STIGMA

Phoenix Rising: The Scarred Heiress's Revenge

Xiao Hong Mao

I lived as the "scarred ghost" of the Stephens penthouse, a wife kept in the shadows because my facial burns offended my billionaire husband's aesthetic. For years, I endured Kason's coldness and my family's abuse, a submissive puppet who believed she had nowhere else to go. The end came with a blue folder tossed onto my silk sheets. Kason's mistress was back, and he wanted me out by sunset, offering a five-million-dollar "silence fee" to go hide my face in the countryside. The betrayal cut deep when I discovered my father had already traded my divorce for a corporate bailout. My step-sister mocked my "trashy" appearance at a high-end boutique, while the sales staff treated me like a common thief. At home, my father threatened to cut off my mother's life-saving medicine unless I crawled back to Kason to beg for a better deal. I was the girl who took the blame for a fire she didn't start, the wife who worshipped a man who never looked her in the eye, and the daughter used as a human bargaining chip. I was supposed to be broken, penniless, and desperate. But the woman who stood up wasn't the weak Elease Finch anymore; she was Phoenix, a tactical predator with a $500 million secret. I signed the divorce papers without a single tear, walked past my stunned husband, and wiped the Finch family's bank accounts clean with a few taps on my phone. "Your money is dirty," I told Kason with a cold smile. "I prefer clean hands." The cage is open, the hunt has begun, and I'm starting with the people who thought a scar made me weak.

Modern Revenge

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Maggie Johnson took pains to steer her wheelchair to the bedroom door with a gift in her hand. It was a mug she made by herself. In her mind, a DIY gift was the best, and the mug represented her sincerity.

It was Kevin Brown's birthday today, and she prepared a surprise for him.

He worked so hard every day and should still be asleep now. She wanted to see him in sleep. It had been half a month since she saw him last time.

When she reached the bedroom door, a woman's voice suddenly came out, "Kevin, are you really going to marry Maggie? She only has one leg left..."

Stunned, Maggie saw through a crevice that her fiancé, Kevin, and her stepsister, Tami Johnson cuddling each other on the bed...

"Yes, of course. Only through marriage would she give me the ring passed down from her mother." Sneered Kevin.

"Well, could you divorce her after getting what you want?" Tami looked up at him expectantly.

Kevin sneered, "Rather than a divorced wife, I only have a dead wife."

Tami giggled, "You are bad."

"Don't you like it?" He asked in a hoarse voice.

"No..." There was another round of passion.

Crack.

The mug slipped from Maggie's hand and smashed on the floor. In a fluster, she steered the wheelchair, but it was stuck and wouldn't move.

"Who's there?" In the room, Kevin asked suddenly, jumped off the bed, wrapped a towel around his lower body, ran out, and stiffened at the sight of Maggie.

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