The Sterling Scandal: Married To The Uncle

For seven years, I was the architect of my fiancé's criminal empire and the strategist behind his every move. I was Dante Gallo’s unofficial Consigliere, his partner in everything but name. Tomorrow, I was finally supposed to marry him and take my place as the queen to his throne. But on the eve of our wedding, a single text message sent by mistake detonated my life. It was a photo from Dante, showing a platinum wedding band on his hand. The message read: “Married this morning. She’s safe now.” My gaze fell to the engagement ring on my own finger. It was the identical band, just smaller. The engraved initials ‘D.I.’ didn’t stand for Dante and I. They stood for Dante and Isabella—his childhood sweetheart. My entire relationship was a lie; I was just a shield to protect his one true love. He dismissed my discovery as a "tantrum." Then, his new bride began taunting me, sending a picture of them tangled in bedsheets with the caption: "Loser." They expected me to break. They thought I would shatter. They were about to find out just how wrong they were. I forwarded the picture to Isabella’s fiancé, a man far more dangerous than Dante. "Your fiancée is in Suite 8808 at the Grand Hyatt," I told him. "I'll meet you downstairs. We're going to crash their party."

For six months, I clung to the belief my wife, Sophia, was in Europe saving her family's struggling hospital-the one I' d poured my career into. Then she came home, stepping out of the car beaming, but not alone; her personal assistant, Mark, was with her, pulling her luggage. "I have something wonderful to tell you," she chirped, taking my hand, her eyes betraying a nervous flutter. "I'm pregnant," she announced, placing a protective hand on her stomach. My heart soared until her gaze shifted to Mark, and she added, "It's not yours." The world spun. My wife, pregnant with another man's child, stood before me in my home. "I'm three months along," she offered, clinically. Before the shock could fully register, she brazenly declared, "I need you. The baby has a congenital heart defect. A procedure only you perfected." She wanted me to save her lover's child. I was a surgeon, not a pawn. "No," I choked out, but her mask crumbled, revealing a ruthless stranger. "You will. Or I'll divorce you, tell the world you refused to save an innocent child, ruin your reputation, and destroy the hospital you built." Then, a chilling memory resurfaced: our miscarriage, years ago. Sophia had been oddly dismissive then, saying, "It was just a bunch of cells. Don't be so dramatic." Now, overhearing her on the phone with Mark, it clicked: "I'm not going to do something stupid like go jet-skiing just to show off for you again. We learned our lesson, didn't we?" Jet-skiing. She' d been eight weeks pregnant with our child then. She' d risked our baby' s life to impress him. My child hadn't been an accident; it had been a calculated choice. The love I felt for her vanished, replaced by a cold, hard resolve. I would do the surgery. But the moment that child was stable, I would burn our lives to the ground and walk away.

For ten years, Liam was my world. I was the silent force behind Aegis, his tech empire, turning a garage startup into a titan on the brink of its IPO. Every all-nighter, every neutralized threat, every high-stakes deal – I was there, a ghost in the shadows, believing his promise: "Once Aegis goes public, Ava… I' ll make you my wife." But tonight, at the pre-IPO celebration, I overheard him. He called me a "loyal old dog," suitable only for a "generous severance package," while declaring his intention to marry "pure, clean" Chloe. My world shattered. The man I loved, the man I sacrificed everything for, saw me as something disposable, a liability from a past he wanted to bury. He said Chloe was the "prize at the top," and I was merely a "partner for the climb." The ultimate betrayal, a decade of my life reduced to a job, my loyalty deemed an investment he' d now pay out with calculated interest. I walked through hell for him, taking bullets and doing his dirty work so his hands could stay "clean," only to be cast aside for being "unclean" myself. Then, he was kidnapped. And even after he threw me away like trash, I walked into a den of armed killers, taking two bullets for him, just to cut the final ties. He ran straight to his new love, leaving me bleeding on the cold concrete. Now, he' s back, crawling, begging for forgiveness and offering me everything-his company, his name, his future-because his "prize" betrayed him. But I'm not a trophy to be won back. He shattered me, and I refuse to be pieced back together for his convenience. My past is a battlefield, my scars are my resume, and this time, I choose myself.

The world slammed back into me in a dizzying rush. One moment, oblivion. The next, I was back in a familiar bed, the sun warm, the scent of roses faint. My heart seized at the June 12th calendar-the day it all began to unravel in my first life, the day before Richard announced he was funneling our savings into his first love' s art gallery. Then he walked in, handsome and dismissive, still my husband, yet a stranger. The sight of him brought nothing but a hollow echo. I stood by the fireplace, a silent observer as Vivian Hayes, ethereal and artfully fragile, entered the room, captivating Richard with a tenderness he' d never shown me. Later, the final piece of the puzzle clicked into place: a beautifully wrapped gift, a silver hairpin "Heart' s Sorrow," a sketch Vivian had made, fumbled into my hands by a clearly distracted Richard. My husband had handed me a gift meant for his artistic mistress, the one he had always loved more. The bitter taste of betrayal choked me. This time, I closed the box and pushed it back across the table. "I think you' ve made a mistake," I said, my voice clear as a bell, shattering the forced cheer of the family dinner. The silence was deafening, Margaret' s smile frozen, Richard' s jaw tight, Vivian' s face a mask of shock. I placed my napkin on the table, the desire for divorce no longer a desperate plea, but a cold, final business decision. "If you'll excuse me," I said, walking away from the stunned table, leaving behind the wreckage of a life I was no longer willing to live. I was alive, I was back, and this time, I was going to rewrite my own story.

I used my bayou magic, a forbidden art that deals with life and death, to save Julian Thorne, a rising politician, sacrificing a piece of my own life force for his. I poured everything into him, funding his comeback, turning my folk wisdom into his sharpest political instincts, enduring cheap noodles so he could dine with the powerful. I thought I loved the man he could be, a man who was initially kind even to my disabled brother, Leo. But when his political future was threatened, Julian ruthlessly betrayed us. He framed Leo and me for drug dealing, sacrificing us to save his career and becoming a U.S. Senator. Imprisoned, Leo suffered brutal injury from guards, losing his mind forever, leaving him with the cognitive function of a small child. Julian then moved us into a gilded cage on his D.C. estate, marrying a socialite for power, always assuring me he was protecting us. Years blurred until his cruel stepson, Thomas, brutally beat Leo to death for a trivial lie. Julian and his wife, Isabelle, watched, then arranged for Leo' s small body to be disposed of like trash, covering up the murder without a thought. The ultimate betrayal came when I overheard Julian' s security calling Leo' s death a "blessing in disguise," "one less loose end." Every sacrifice, every drop of love, shattered into an icy shard. The man I saved, the man I loved, saw my brother and me only as liabilities, disposable. My heart, once full, turned to stone, not in grief, but in a cold, hard rage. I was no longer a victim; I was a reckoning. That night, at his grand political gala, I unleashed the full, untamed power of the bayou, plunging his world into chaos. I secured Leo' s body, started a truck, and left, the gris-gris bag containing Julian' s life pulsing in my pocket. The debt had begun to be repaid.

I, Ethan, had one rule: make it on my own merits, no family help, despite my parents being Silicon Valley legends. For three years, I poured my soul into "Project Prometheus," a project meant to launch my career to new heights, all while planning a future with my fiancée, Chloe. Then, a single LinkedIn notification shattered my world: Chloe's smirking intern, Leo, was taking credit for my project, my invaluable work. When I confronted Chloe, she looked at me with tired annoyance, not guilt, casually dismissing it as "just a title" for Leo's career, before brazenly asking me to endorse his fake "contribution." My furious refusal only made things worse; suddenly, I was the subject of office whispers and Marcus, my director, inexplicably sided with Chloe, burying my name on the project and putting me on a death-sentence Performance Improvement Plan. Chloe publicly smeared me as "non-collaborative," then privately texted: "You lost." How could the woman I planned to marry so casually steal my life's work, mock my integrity, and try to make me an accomplice in my own professional execution? The unfairness was a physical weight, suffocating me, watching them twist the truth while my irrefutable evidence was ignored. My integrity was utterly worthless against her malicious lies. Backed into a corner, my reputation destroyed and career hanging by a thread, I finally made the call I swore I never would: "Mom, Dad," I choked out, "I tried to handle this myself, but I can't anymore. I need your help."

A year into the marriage, Thea rushed home with radiant happiness-she was pregnant. Jerred barely glanced up. "She's back." The woman he'd never let go had returned, and he forgot he was a husband, spending every night at her hospital bed. Thea forced a smile. "Let's divorce." He snapped, "You're jealous of someone who's dying?" Because the woman was terminal, he excused every jab and made Thea endure. When love went cold, she left the papers and stormed off. He locked down the city and caught her at the airport, eyes red, dropping to his knees. "Honey, where are you going with our child?"

Eliana reunited with her family, now ruined by fate: Dad jailed, Mom deathly ill, six crushed brothers, and a fake daughter who'd fled for richer prey. Everyone sneered. But at her command, Eliana summoned the Onyx Syndicate. Bars opened, sickness vanished, and her brothers rose-one walking again, others soaring in business, tech, and art. When society mocked the "country girl," she unmasked herself: miracle doctor, famed painter, genius hacker, shadow queen. A powerful tycoon held her close. "Country girl? She's my fiancée!" Eliana glared at him. "Dream on." Resolutely, he vowed never to let go.

Life was a bed of roses for Debra, the daughter of Alpha. That was until she had a one-night stand with Caleb. She was sure he was her mate as determined by Moon Goddess. But this hateful man refused to accept her. Weeks passed before Debra discovered that she was pregnant. Her pregnancy brought shame to her and everyone she loved. Not only was she driven out, but her father was also hunted down by usurpers. Fortunately, she survived with the help of the mysterious Thorn Edge Pack. Five years passed and Debra didn't hear anything from Caleb. One day, their paths crossed again. They were both on the same mission-carrying out secret investigations in the dangerous Roz Town for the safety and posterity of their respective packs. Caleb was still cold toward her. But as time went on, he fell head over heels in love with her. He tried to make up for abandoning her, but Debra wasn't having any of it. She was hell-bent on hiding her daughter from him and also making a clean break. What did the future hold for the two as they journeyed in Roz Town? What kind of secrets would they find? Would Caleb win Debra's heart and get to know his lovely daughter? Find out!

Kallie, a mute who had been ignored by her husband for five years since their wedding, also suffered the loss of her pregnancy due to her cruel mother-in-law. After the divorce, she learned that her ex-husband had quickly gotten engaged to the woman he truly loved. Holding her slightly rounded belly, she realized that he had never really cared for her. Determined, she left him behind, treating him as a stranger. Yet, after she left, he scoured the globe in search of her. When their paths crossed once more, Kallie had already found new happiness. For the first time, he pleaded humbly, "Please don't leave me..."  But Kallie's response was firm and dismissive, cutting through any lingering ties. "Get lost!"

The roasted lamb was cold, a reflection of her marriage. On their third anniversary, Evelyn Vance waited alone in her Manhattan penthouse. Then her phone buzzed: Alexander, her husband, had been spotted leaving the hospital, holding his childhood sweetheart Scarlett Sharp's hand. Alexander arrived hours later, dismissing Evelyn's quiet complaint with a cold reminder: she was Mrs. Vance, not a victim. Her mother's demands reinforced this role, making Evelyn, a brilliant mind, feel like a ghost. A dangerous indifference replaced betrayal. The debt was paid; now, it was her turn. She drafted a divorce settlement, waiving everything. As Alexander's tender voice drifted from his study, speaking to Scarlett, Evelyn placed her wedding ring on his pillow, moved to the guest suite, and locked the door. The dull wife was gone; the Oracle was back.

For eight years, Cecilia Moore was the perfect Luna, loyal, and unmarked. Until the day she found her Alpha mate with a younger, purebred she-wolf in his bed. In a world ruled by bloodlines and mating bonds, Cecilia was always the outsider. But now, she's done playing by wolf rules. She smiles as she hands Xavier the quarterly financials-divorce papers clipped neatly beneath the final page. "You're angry?" he growls. "Angry enough to commit murder," she replies, voice cold as frost. A silent war brews under the roof they once called home. Xavier thinks he still holds the power-but Cecilia has already begun her quiet rebellion. With every cold glance and calculated step, she's preparing to disappear from his world-as the mate he never deserved. And when he finally understands the strength of the heart he broke... It may be far too late to win it back.