/1/126942/coverbig.jpg?v=9508e59fb13da815f4e2f6aea31376ca)
I thought I was going to marry Jayson, a patched member of the Iron Lizards MC, until my phone buzzed on the damp bar counter. It was a text from an unknown number: "You should see what your man is really up to." Below the words was a stark picture of Jayson in the alley outside, his hands all over a blonde club sweetbutt, crushing his mouth to hers. I confronted him in front of the entire clubhouse, threw my engagement bracelet on his table, and walked out into the freezing night. Jayson chased after me, reeking of alcohol and cheap perfume, screaming that I had absolutely nothing without him. His cruel mother, Marlene, even tried to threaten me into silence to protect their precious family reputation, leaving me entirely isolated and homeless. I had nowhere to go, no one to call, and my entire world had just collapsed into a dead end. But then, the most terrifying man in the state pulled up beside me on a massive Harley. Braxton "Brute" Wood, the ruthless President of the rival Serpents of Redemption MC-a man even Jayson feared. Why would a man who treated everyone else like dirt suddenly offer me a ride and a way out? He didn't just rescue me; he brought me to his fortress, handed me an unlimited black card, and demanded a one-year contract marriage. "Because Jayson Trujillo made you a laughingstock, and you're going to be my Old Lady." As he slid a massive diamond onto my finger at the courthouse, I realized the chilling truth. Braxton was the one who sent me that picture, and I had just signed my life away to a predator who had been hunting me all along.
Contents
Jilted Bride: Marrying The Biker King Chapter 1
Kendal POV:
"Jayson's little prize," someone slurred, sloshing cheap beer over his knuckles.
I forced a tight, plastic smile. The annual Serpents of Redemption MC rally was a deafening storm of grinding metal, stale exhaust, and rank sweat. As the fiancée of an Iron Lizard, I was walking on enemy territory. Property on display.
My phone gave a sharp, persistent buzz in my back pocket. I ignored it. Probably another reminder from the diner about covering the midnight shift. Every extra dollar was a nail in the coffin of my past, a step closer to getting out from under my adoptive parents' thumb.
The suffocating press of leather and testosterone closed in. I needed air. I turned toward the makeshift bar.
Buzz.
Annoyed, I slid the phone out. Unknown number. An MMS.
I tapped the screen.
The world stopped. The thunder of the speakers, the roaring Harleys, the drunken brawling-everything went dead, muted underwater.
My chest caved in.
It was Jayson. My Jayson. The man who had sworn on his club patch that I was his only one.
He had a blonde pinned hard against the damp drywall of a back stockroom. One heavy hand was shoved down the front of her leather pants, his hips hammering into her in a filthy, desperate rhythm.
In the bottom corner of the image, the surveillance timestamp glowed: 9:13 PM.
My wrist watch read 9:15 PM.
A second photo downloaded. A tight close-up. Brandi Hicks. The club groupie who wore next to nothing and laughed too loud. Her head was thrown back, mouth open in a wrecked moan, her knuckles white as she gripped Jayson's belt buckle like she was terrified he'd pull out.
I didn't cry. I didn't scream.
A dry, hollow laugh scraped my throat.
This? This was what he traded three years of my loyalty for? A dirty stockroom wall and a woman who couldn't spell his last name? It wasn't heartbreak slicing through me-it was disgust. Searing, acidic self-loathing for ever believing he was worth keeping.
"Baby, I've been looking all over for you."
Jayson's voice cut through my haze. He swaggered toward me, holding two plastic cups of draft beer, that golden-boy smirk plastered on his face. The same mouth that had been all over her skin two minutes ago.
Nausea flared, hot and violent, straight up my spine.
"What's wrong?" he asked, reaching for my waist.
I stepped back, dodging his touch like he was coated in poison. His smile twitched.
Without a word, I turned on my heel and walked straight toward the wooden stage in the center of the fairgrounds.
"Kendal? Where are you going?" he barked behind me.
I ignored him. I climbed the splintered steps, brushed past the startled rhythm guitarist, and yanked the microphone off its stand.
A high-pitched squeal of feedback tore through the amps.
The entire rally froze. Hundreds of bikers-including the heavy hitters up front wearing the three-piece Serpents of Redemption patch-turned their heads. Every eye locked on me.
"Sorry to kill the buzz, boys," I said. My voice was pure, chilling steel. It startled even me. "I just have one small announcement to make."
Jayson's face paled as he started shoving through the crowd. "Kendal! Get down from there!"
"Jayson Trujillo," I said, locking eyes with him as the color drained from his skin. "You came over here looking for me. But I think your time is better spent back in the stockroom with Brandi Hicks."
A collective gasp swept through the yard, followed by sharp snickers.
"After all," I paused, letting the silence bleed, "you were working so hard inside her pants two minutes ago, you probably need that cold beer to keep your dick from catching fire."
Raucous laughter and crude whistles exploded across the field. Jayson went from sheet-white to a suffocating, violent purple. His jaw worked like a hooked fish, nothing coming out.
Slowly, deliberately, I raised my left hand. I slid off the diamond engagement ring he'd bragged about buying with three months of club earnings.
"So, consider this official," I said, every word hitting like a hollow-point round. "We're done."
I flicked my wrist.
The ring bounced off the wooden stage with a faint, pathetic clink.
"Keep it, Jayson. Save it for the next whore willing to swallow your scraps."
I shoved the mic back into the guitarist's chest, turned, and walked off the platform.
The crowd parted like black leather waves before the Red Sea. No one spoke. No one reached out.
I pushed through the chain-link gates, hit the gravel road, and let the pitch-black night swallow me whole.
View More Comments on App
Other books by Luo Ye
More/1/106609/coverbig.jpg?v=5e9e182824bef37bb03be668963bc105)
The Placeholder Bride's Secret Billionaire Revenge
ModernFor two years, I was the invisible force behind tech billionaire Kieran Douglas, convinced that our "private" romance was his way of protecting us from the tabloid spotlight. I managed his mergers, warmed his bed, and waited for a future that didn't exist. The illusion shattered at 6:00 AM when a Page Six alert debuted Kieran's "real" romance with socialite Aspen Schneider. Before I could even process the betrayal, Kieran sent me a cold, professional text: "Order flowers for Aspen. Pink peonies. Her favorite." When I tried to walk away, my own mother called me a disgrace and threatened to lock my inheritance forever unless I married a sixty-year-old businessman to save her failing estate. At a high-society gala that same night, Aspen intentionally crushed my burned hand in front of the cameras, while Kieran stood by and dismissed me as a "mediocre assistant" who had overstayed her welcome. I stood in the cold New York rain, drenched in champagne and humiliation, realizing that every sacrifice I made for Kieran was a joke. I was a ghost in a penthouse that was never mine, discarded the moment his "soulmate" returned. To the world, I was just a placeholder whose time had run out. But Kieran forgot one thing: my father's multi-million dollar trust fund unlocks the moment I legally marry. I didn't need love; I needed a signature and a shield. I walked into a discreet law firm and signed a marriage contract with a man I believed was the city's most notorious, scandal-ridden playboy. I thought I was marrying a degenerate "beard" to buy my freedom and secure my revenge. I didn't realize the man who signed that paper wasn't a playboy at all, but Gaston Collins-the most powerful and dangerous man on Wall Street-and he had no intention of letting our fake marriage stay fake.
/1/123805/coverbig.jpg?v=819befd38af265dc1051a885b24d891c)
The Wife He Abandoned Was a Billionaire Heiress
ModernFor three years, Chloe White endured daily humiliation from her mother-in-law, desperately trying to be the perfect wife to warm her cold husband, Julian. But when Julian finally came home today, he didn't even look at her. He coldly ordered her to pack her things and move out of their master bedroom. He was giving their marital room to Scarlett, his fragile old flame who was returning from abroad. His mother gleefully watched Chloe's color drain, mocking her lowly birth and praising Scarlett's arrival. When Chloe softly reminded him she was his wife, Julian stepped close and sneered, accusing her of using dirty tricks to force their marriage. He treated her like disposable trash, evicting her from her own home to make way for his true love. Looking at the man she had loved so deeply, Chloe's heart completely turned to ashes. She had buried her own brilliance just to be his shadow. Why did her three years of absolute devotion mean nothing against Scarlett's fake tears? Without a single tear, she packed her bags, walked out of the gilded cage, and slapped a divorce agreement flat against Julian's chest at the airport. "Sign it. And we're even." Stepping into a waiting sports car, Chloe returned to her hidden billionaire grandmother and uncovered the bloody truth behind her father's death. This time, she was going to make the Montgomerys and the Finches pay with everything they had.
/1/119596/coverbig.jpg?v=2e10e92dad2825e91b382e544f270661)
Reborn To Love My Billionaire Husband
RomanceJuliana Hunt believed her marriage to billionaire Cole Mcintyre was nothing but a cold business transaction. Texting her lover, Aidan, she got into her luxury sedan, eager to elope and start a new life orchestrated by her best friend, Paige. But she never made it. On a slick country road, the car's tampered brakes failed, sending her crashing head-on into a massive semi-truck. Floating as a helpless ghost above her own mangled corpse, the brutal truth was soon revealed when Cole's assistant delivered the investigation results. "The brake lines were cut clean through. Aidan and Paige planned to elope with her trust fund." Her "true love" and "best friend" had conspired to murder her for money. Meanwhile, Cole—the husband she thought was a statue carved from ice—completely shattered. He roared in pure agony, smashed his bleeding fists into his mahogany desk, and wept brokenly over their wedding portrait. A suffocating wave of regret and fury consumed her spectral form. How could she have been so blindly stupid? She had thrown away the profound, desperate love of her husband for a pair of ruthless traitors who plotted her gruesome death. The all-consuming desire for revenge became a fire in her soul, pulling her violently into a roaring darkness. When Juliana forced her heavy eyelids open, she was back in her own bed, alive, with Cole's exhausted arms wrapped tightly around her waist. This time, she would tear their lives apart.
/1/118862/coverbig.jpg?v=0915bb5ddd92e4a758a3b50603116993)
His Regret, My Forgotten Ten Years
ModernMy ten-year marriage to Jordan was over. I went back to our old college campus to dig up the time capsule we buried, ready to erase every memory of the man who broke me. But inside, an old Nokia phone suddenly rang. The voice on the other end was bright, hopeful, and unmistakably my own from ten years ago. "Are we married to Jordan? Are we happy?" she chirped. I had to tell her the brutal truth. "We're getting divorced." I told her how he cheated with his assistant, Bristol. I told her how, in the car crash that cost us our baby, his first instinct was to shield her, not his pregnant wife. Her heartbroken sobs echoed the pain I no longer had the strength to feel. The final humiliation came when he forced me to apologize to Bristol after she faked a suicide attempt on a cliff. He chose her, again and again, destroying the woman I used to be. "I won't marry him," my past self finally said, her voice firm through the phone. "I'm taking the scholarship to London." As she made the choice that would erase my entire life with him, my vision faded to black.
/1/118351/coverbig.jpg?v=96f570952562707ab6a0da70c565d061)
The Unwanted Wife's Final Silent Escape
RomanceFor five years, Daphne played the perfect, invisible wife to billionaire Damian Sterling. But on their fifth anniversary, her only gift was a divorce petition. Damian wanted to officially replace her with the woman he kept tucked away, Isabelle. To speed up the process, Isabelle deliberately plunged her own hand into scalding soup and framed Daphne for the burn. Damian didn't hesitate to violently shove Daphne to the floor. "How can you be so cruel? You're a vicious, pathetic woman!" He rushed his mistress to a VIP hospital suite, while Daphne collapsed from sheer exhaustion and was dumped in a noisy public ward. He only visited to demand she apologize to Isabelle and sign the papers. Later, Damian found Daphne's old locket and accused her of cheating with his cousin. He had no idea she had actually spent years bound by a non-disclosure agreement, secretly protecting his family from a devastating scandal. She had endured his coldness, hoping he would one day love her and the two secret children he didn't even know existed. But as Isabelle mocked her, revealing that even Daphne's custom designer gown was just Isabelle's rejected leftover, Daphne finally understood. Her entire marriage was a second-hand life. The last spark of hope died, replaced by a vast, terrifying peace. Daphne calmly signed the divorce papers using her maiden name, packed a small suitcase, and walked out of the penthouse forever.
/1/118228/coverbig.jpg?v=07f2b80346d543a519e1739cc1eabe21)
Rejected by the Alpha, Claimed by the Alpha King
WerewolfI was a wolfless Rogue, cast out and humiliated when my childhood sweetheart abandoned me to mate with a powerful Alpha's daughter. To get revenge, I willingly walked into the bed of Graham Rogers, the ruthless Alpha King of New York. I thought I could use his power, but I traded one monster for an even worse one. He forced me to sign a suffocating contract, trapping me as his personal assistant and absolute property. When he found the empty box of the morning-after pill I took, his eyes turned black with terrifying rage. "Did you really think a filthy rogue bloodline like yours was worthy of carrying my child?" His brutal fury left me with severe internal injuries that a doctor warned could permanently destroy my body. While I was trapped in this living hell, my ex and his family, now facing bankruptcy, suddenly came crawling back. They begged for my forgiveness, hoping to use my new connection to the Alpha King to save their dying pack. They thought I was still the weak, pathetic girl they could easily manipulate and discard. But they didn't know I had just discovered they were likely the ones who murdered my parents fourteen years ago. Looking at my ex's desperate, pleading face, I calmly answered a call from the very devil who held me captive. I was done being a victim, and I would borrow the beast's power to burn their entire world to the ground.
