Haoyu

Lyra gave her heart to the wrong man and her empire with it. As the founder of a top law firm, she trusted her husband with everything. Her love, her company, and her future. But the man she built her world around betrayed her in the cruelest way: stealing her firm, framing her for fraud, and shattering her life with the woman she once trusted as her friend. Just when she thought things couldn't get worse, Lyra was killed by both of them. But fate wasn't done with her. Lyra wakes up one year before the betrayal. This time, she's not the same woman. She's colder. Sharper. Unforgiving. And she's ready to take back everything that was stolen from her. She won't be doing it alone. Two powerful billionaires step into her life. Vincent, the real estate mogul who's always cared for her from afar. And Louis, a brilliant tech genius with secrets of his own and a personal reason to see her rise again. They don't want to control her. They want to stand beside her. Two allies. Two offers. One woman who refuses to be a victim ever again. Lyra was reborn not for mercy, but for revenge. Now, it's her turn to choose who pays, who falls... and who earns the right to stand by her side.

"You're losing a lot of blood," he said without turning around. "I can sense it through the bond. You won't last till a healer comes." "I said I don't need you," I snapped, clutching the coat tighter. The defiance in my words didn't match the weakness in my legs. He exhaled sharply, finally turning to face me. His blue eyes found mine, cold and steady. "You don't have a choice, Avaline." Something about the way he said my name made my pulse skip. He took a slow step forward, closing the space between us with just a few strides. I stepped back, shaking my head. "Stay away from me." His arm wrapped around me, pulling me towards him again. My breath hitched as my chest landed against his. My eyes shot up to meet his defiantly, my chest heaving as anger flared in me. "We'll tear each other apart until one of us breaks. And Avaline... I will never let you go." Orion whispered. "So stop fighting me and let me heal you." ------------------------------------------ Avaline should have died the night they betrayed her. But she didn't. Three years ago, her mate, Adam Rhineheart, left her to bleed in the dirt so he could claim her best friend, Olivia. Now, they rule the pack like royalty, while Avaline has learned to survive on her own. When fate drags her into the path of Orion Draemount, the ruthless Wolf Lord feared by every Alpha, Avaline makes a dangerous choice. He owns her debt, and she owes him her service. Her task is simple: teach his quiet, intelligent son and stay out of his way. But she has another plan. Use him. Use his name, his power and his wealth until she destroys the two people who once destroyed her. Only Orion is not what she expected. Beneath the cold command lies a man haunted by his own loss, one who watches her as if trying to unravel her soul. And when one night binds them with a mark she never asked for, Avaline finds herself trapped between two enemies, one who ruined her past, and one who could ruin her heart. The closer she gets to vengeance, the more she wonders. Will she destroy him, or will he destroy her?

Michelle thought she had a perfect marriage until she discovered her husband's affair. Fast forward four years, and she's ready to embrace her identity as a wealthy heiress. But just as she's making peace with her past, her ex-husband Jared, the one who broke her heart, reappears in her life. Fueled by pain and anger, Michelle tells a lie that turns her world upside down: she claims that billionaire Tristan Grant is her daughter's father. To protect her company and her daughter, Michelle agrees to marry Tristan, even though she vowed never to marry again. But as things start to look up, Michelle remains haunted by her past and her desire for revenge against her ex-husband. Will her thirst for vengeance ruin her relationship with Tristan? Or will she find a way to forgive her ex and confront the truth that tore them apart?

Betrayed and heartbroken, Lexie seeks revenge on her cheating ex-boyfriend by sharing a passionate tryst with his irresistible twin brother, King. But their encounters were meant to be a one-time affair...until fate intervenes. Lexie finds herself face-to-face with King in the very hospital where she gives birth to his child. Determined to deny the truth, she challenges his claim of fatherhood. But King is no fool and reveals an airtight DNA test. Refusing to back down, Lexie dares to suggest the baby could be her ex's brother's child—a risky move that only fuels King's resolve. With a smile as enigmatic as it is alluring, King presents Lexie with two choices: enter into a contract marriage with him for three years or risk losing her precious child forever. Left with no alternatives, Lexie bravely accepts her fateful destiny—to marry the twin brother of her ex-lover. Now with the power to turn her life into a blissful dream or a relentless nightmare, Lexie embarks on a journey of self-discovery and love, uncertain if she will ever find acceptance within King's family or if she will endure the same pain she once experienced as his brother's girlfriend. Prepare to be captivated by this gripping tale of love, secrets, and redemption, as Lexie navigates the treacherous waters of her newly entangled life. Embrace the uncertainties this heartfelt story offers, and discover the power of forgiveness, resilience, and the unexpected connections that can heal even the deepest wounds.

Trigger/Content Warning: This story contains mature themes and explicit content intended for adult audiences(18+). Reader discretion is advised. It includes elements such as BDSM dynamics, explicit sexual content, toxic family relationships, occasional violence and strong language. This is not a fluffy romance. It is intense, raw and messy, and explores the darker side of desire. ***** "Take off your dress, Meadow." "Why?" "Because your ex is watching," he said, leaning back into his seat. "And I want him to see what he lost." ••••*••••*••••* Meadow Russell was supposed to get married to the love of her life in Vegas. Instead, she walked in on her twin sister riding her fiance. One drink at the bar turned to ten. One drunken mistake turned into reality. And one stranger's offer turned into a contract that she signed with shaking hands and a diamond ring. Alaric Ashford is the devil in a tailored Tom Ford suit. Billionaire CEO, brutal, possessive. A man born into an empire of blood and steel. He also suffers from a neurological condition-he can't feel. Not objects, not pain, not even human touch. Until Meadow touches him, and he feels everything. And now he owns her. On paper and in his bed. She wants him to ruin her. Take what no one else could have. He wants control, obedience... revenge. But what starts as a transaction slowly turns into something Meadow never saw coming. Obsession, secrets that were never meant to surface, and a pain from the past that threatens to break everything. Alaric doesn't share what's his. Not his company. Not his wife. And definitely not his vengeance.

Vesper's marriage to Julian Sterling was a gilded cage. One morning, she woke naked beside Damon Sterling, Julian's terrifying brother, then found a text: Julian's mistress was pregnant. Her world shattered, but the real nightmare had just begun. Julian's abuse escalated, gaslighting Vesper, funding his secret life. Damon, a germaphobic billionaire, became her unsettling anchor amidst his chaos. As "Iris," Vesper exposed Julian's mistress, Serena Sharp, sparking brutal war: poisoned drinks, a broken leg, and the horrifying truth-Julian murdered her parents, trapping Vesper in marriage. The man she married was a killer. Broken and betrayed, Vesper was caught between monstrous brothers, burning with injustice. Refusing victimhood, Vesper reclaimed her identity. Fueled by vengeance, she allied with Damon, who vowed to burn his empire for her. Julian faced justice, but matriarch Eleanor's counterattack forced Vesper's choice as a hitman aimed for her.

The thunder cracked over the Hamptons, but it was nothing compared to Elena Sharp's scream. She lay twisted on the marble foyer, accusing me of trying to kill her baby. My husband, Julian, walked in, saw the scene, and his eyes froze me out of his life forever. He didn't listen, shoving a separation agreement across the desk, accusing me of murder. Stripped of my name and home, I was thrown out, left with nothing but my clothes and a terrifying secret growing inside me. My accounts frozen, I ended up in a crumbling Philadelphia row house, forced to pawn heirlooms. During a fire, my water broke, and I delivered our premature daughter, June, whose lungs were damaged. I stole formula to feed her, facing massive medical bills. Accused of destroying an heir, I was exiled while carrying his true legacy, fighting for every breath. The injustice burned, but June's life was my only fight. Three years later, June needed life-saving surgery. Julian's dying grandmother called me back with the funds, forcing a cruel charade with the man who hated me, a man still oblivious to his daughter.

Vivian clutched her Hermès bag, her doctor's words echoing: "Extremely high-risk pregnancy." She hoped the baby would save her cold marriage, but Julian wasn't in London as his schedule claimed. Instead, a paparazzi photo revealed his early return-with a blonde woman, not his wife, at the private airport exit. The next morning, Julian served divorce papers, callously ending their "duty" marriage for his ex, Serena. A horrifying contract clause gave him the right to terminate her pregnancy or seize their child. Humiliated, demoted, and forced to fake an ulcer, Vivian watched him parade his affair, openly discarding her while celebrating Serena. This was a calculated erasure, not heartbreak. He cared only for his image, confirming he would "handle" the baby himself. A primal rage ignited her. "Just us," she whispered to her stomach, vowing to sign the divorce on her terms, keep her secret safe, and walk away from Sterling Corp for good, ready to protect her child alone.

The silence in St. Patrick's Cathedral wasn't peaceful; it was a physical weight on Stella's shoulders, heavier than her wedding dress. She stood alone at the altar, ready for her perfect life, when her phone vibrated with a text that shattered everything. Her fiancé, Bryce, messaged just moments before the vows: "I can't do this. Monica needs me. I'm sorry." Monica, her maid of honor, was the reason he fled. Bryce's mother then publicly shamed Stella, implying her career ambition drove him away. The betrayal of her sacrifices, her future, and her dignity ignited a white-hot rage. Stella ripped off her veil, grabbed the microphone, and exposed the groom and maid of honor's affair to the stunned guests before storming out. A furious wreck in her ruined gown, she stumbled on the cathedral steps, meeting Julian Sterling, the "Cursed Son" in a wheelchair. He offered no pity, only a detached assessment. In a defiant, adrenaline-fueled moment, Stella crouched and asked, "Are you single?" Julian, needing a strategic alliance against his family, agreed to a cold, transactional marriage of convenience. With the City Clerk's office hours ticking down, Stella tore her dress, determined to forge a new path of vengeance and desperate necessity.

Serena Vance, an unloved wife, clutched a custom-made red velvet cake to her chest, enduring the cold rain outside an exclusive Upper East Side club. She hoped this small gesture for her husband, Julian, would bridge the growing chasm between them on their third anniversary. But as she neared the VIP suite, her world shattered. Julian's cold, detached voice sliced through the laughter, revealing he considered her nothing more than a "signature on a piece of paper" for a trust fund, mocking her changed appearance and respecting only another woman, Elena. The indifference in his tone was a physical blow, a brutal severance, not heartbreak. She gently placed the forgotten cake on the floor, leaving her wedding ring and a diamond necklace as she prepared to abandon a marriage built on lies. Her old life, once a prison of quiet suffering and constant humiliation, now lay in ruins around her. Three years of trying to be seen, to be loved, were erased by a few cruel words. Why had she clung to a man who saw her as a clause in a will, a "creature," not a wife? The shame and rage hardened her heart, freezing her tears. Returning to an empty penthouse, she packed a single battered suitcase, leaving behind every symbol of her failed marriage. With a burner phone, she dialed a number she hadn't touched in a decade, whispering, "Godfather, I'm ready to come home."

For three years, I documented the slow death of my marriage in a black journal. It was my 100-point divorce plan: for every time my husband, Blake, chose his first love, Ariana, over me, I deducted points. When the score hit zero, I would leave. The final points vanished the night he left me bleeding out from a car crash. I was eight weeks pregnant with the child we had prayed for. In the ER, the nurses frantically called him-the star surgeon of the very hospital I was dying in. "Dr. Santos, we have a Jane Doe, O-negative, bleeding out. She's pregnant, and we're about to lose them both. We need you to authorize an emergency blood transfer." His voice came over the speaker, cold and impatient. "I can't. My priority is Miss Whitfield. Do what you can for the patient, but I can't divert anything right now." He hung up. He condemned his own child to death to ensure his ex-girlfriend had resources on standby after a minor procedure.

My husband promised me forever, but gave me endless lies. On our anniversary, I found his secrets on social media, exposed by his mistress. He didn't just break my heart; he broke my entire world. Seraphina sat alone in her opulent mansion, preparing their anniversary dinner, feeling the suffocating weight of her cold, hollow marriage. An Instagram post from Tiffany Sloan then brazenly revealed Harrison's hand at a romantic dinner, shattering his flimsy excuses and exposing his blatant infidelity. The betrayal turned Seraphina's despair into cold resolve. He gaslighted her, dismissed her pain, and reminded her she was "nothing." He chose his mistress over her dying brother, caused her to break an ankle, and finally abandoned her on a desolate street corner, stripped of dignity. How could she have sacrificed her entire violin career for a man who so casually discarded her? Under that bridge, her foolish love died, leaving only a fierce desire for reclamation. Shivering and alone, a faded flyer for a violin teacher caught her eye. It was a defiant whisper of her old self, a promise: Seraphina Vanderbilt was gone, and a new Seraphina was finally free.

Sera stood at the altar, ready to renew vows with Lucas Sterling, a public declaration of their solid marriage. But in that holy silence, Lucas answered his phone, his voice booming, "Naomi? I'm coming." He then turned, eyes cold, declaring, "It's over," abandoning her mid-ceremony. The crowd gasped. His family humiliated her, calling her "trash." He then cut off all her money, stranding her in a downpour. The cruelest blow: his sister revealed Lucas had gossiped about Sera's deepest trauma-a past kidnapping-mocking her belief he was her savior. This betrayal shattered Sera's loyalty, replacing pain with cold rage. How could he expose that secret? And why did powerful Julian Thorne appear, whispering, "I've known who you are for a long time," as if privy to her past? With her last attachment severed, Sera pulled out her encrypted phone. Her voice chilling, she commanded, "Target Sterling Supply Chain. Initiate Phase One: Disruption." Her counterattack had begun.

My wealthy husband, Nathaniel, stormed in, demanding a divorce to be with his "dying" first love, Julia. He expected tears, pleas, even hysteria. Instead, I calmly reached for a pen, ready to sign away our life for a fortune. For two years, I played the devoted wife in our sterile penthouse. That night, Nathaniel shattered the facade, tossing divorce papers. "Julia's back," he stated, "she needs me." He expected me to crumble. But my calm "Okay" shocked him. I coolly demanded his penthouse, shares, and a doubled stipend, letting him believe I was a greedy gold digger. He watched, disgusted, convinced I was a monster. He couldn't fathom my indifference or ruthless demands. He saw avarice, not a carefully constructed facade. His betrayal had awakened something far more dangerous. The second the door closed, the dutiful wife vanished. I retrieved a burner phone and a Glock, ready to expose the elaborate lie he and Julia had built.