A Betrayed Wife Left To Die? She Rose As The Tech Empress
Ten years as childhood friends and three as husband and wife ended in her husband's betrayal, and her brothers' indifference. Diagnosed with mid-stage stomach cancer, Roselyn saw the truth of her life.
She walked away from everything, rising from an overlooked office worker to a leading figure in the tech world.
She outplayed her husband into signing divorce papers. When they met again, he begged, "I was wrong... take me back. I'd give you my stomach if I could."
Her once arrogant brothers pleaded too, but she felt nothing. After all, love that arrived too late meant nothing to her now-she simply didn't care anymore.
As they stood desperate, a man stepped forward and wrapped her in his arms. "Why waste time on them? Look at me instead."
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Chapter 4
Looking over Roselyn's choices, Frank couldn't hide his dissatisfaction. "Why are you only eating this? A salad and soup won't do anything for you. You've lost too much weight. Get something proper."
Before Roselyn could respond, Frank reached for the menu and added several warm dishes she used to enjoy.
As the meal went on, Janice kept filling Roselyn's plate, making sure each serving was something she liked.
Despite that, Roselyn barely touched the food. After a few bites, she found it hard to continue.
Janice caught on right away. "Roselyn, what's the matter? Does it not taste good?"
Roselyn gave a small shake of her head. "It's fine, really. I had something earlier, so I'm not very hungry."
In truth, her condition had taken away her appetite, but she kept that to herself to avoid worrying them.
Not long after, a dull discomfort spread through her stomach. Roselyn pushed her chair back and stood. "I'll step out for a bit," she said before heading toward the restroom.
As she passed the smoking lounge, familiar voices reached her ears. They belonged to people who often stayed around Adrian.
"Adrian, you're staying out tonight again? Didn't your wife start calling you already?" one of them said.
"Knowing her, she definitely did. Adrian probably shut her down right away."
"She used to watch his every move. Anyone would get tired of that. No surprise he lost interest. After so long, there's nothing left."
"Come on, Emma's on a different level. Looks, figure, family, everything. Anyone would pick her."
Their careless tone made it clear Adrian had never tried to stop them from speaking like that.
Lowering her head, Roselyn let out a quiet laugh at herself and turned away.
Inside the lounge, Adrian sat with his head lowered, a cigarette between his fingers. Through the drifting smoke, a familiar figure caught his eye.
Without hesitation, he stubbed the cigarette out and stepped outside.
His sudden move made the others follow, each putting out their cigarettes as they went after him.
"Roselyn," Adrian called sharply. "So this is your new move now? Calling wasn't enough, so you decided to trail after me?"
The people around him went still, glancing at one another with unease.
None of them had expected her to appear here.
Roselyn's brother, Cristian Hudson, had specifically chosen a private VIP room to keep Emma's birthday dinner quiet. Roselyn's presence disrupted that sense of control.
No one could tell how much Roselyn had already heard.
Roselyn halted where she stood, and a sudden ache tightened in her chest.
Without warning, a memory came back. There was a time when Adrian had stood in front of her, shielding her without hesitation.
That version of him overlapped with the man in front of her now. He once cared deeply for her.
At some point, that love shifted into irritation and distance.
Taking a slow breath, Roselyn composed herself before turning back with a faint smile. "You're mistaken. I came here to eat. You're not the reason I'm here."
Roselyn moved to leave for the restroom, but Adrian reached out and caught her arm.
Adrian's patience snapped. "Roselyn, do you have to do this here? I'm meeting people for work. You're making things uncomfortable."
Without raising her voice, Roselyn pulled her arm free. "What exactly did I do?"
Even something as simple as walking to the restroom was now considered a problem. The thought almost made her laugh.
When she saw the shift back then, Roselyn held on to Adrian and wouldn't let go.
She knew what it felt like to be loved, so when that feeling disappeared, she recognized it right away.
Trying to force things back to how they used to be had been her mistake.
That wouldn't happen again.
A shift passed over Adrian's face, and his gaze turned even colder.
Sensing the tension, Adrian's friends quickly stepped in, trying to ease the situation.
"Roselyn, don't take it the wrong way. We're really just here for work."
Roselyn gave a small nod. "Alright. Then go ahead and continue."
Without waiting for anything else, Roselyn turned and walked off.
Once she faced away from them, a faint, mocking smile appeared on her lips.
Whether he was talking business or sharing something more personal with another woman no longer held any weight for her.
After one month, Adrian would simply become someone from her past.
As she disappeared from view, the group stood there, still unsettled.
"Adrian, she's always watching you closely."
"You might want to follow her and fix this before it gets worse."
Adrian looked toward where Roselyn had left, his irritation building. He took another cigarette from the pack, and someone stepped in to light it.
Taking a deep drag, he exhaled sharply. "Enough. Drop it."
After a few moments, the tension eased. Adrian turned around and headed back into the private room as though nothing had happened.
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7.7
BAD REPUTATION
7.7
It was her hair that fascinated him. The reddish-brown mass was parted high to one side, windswept almost. And then there was her make-up, neutral save for the liner around her eyes and the bold lip colour... was that purple?
His gaze narrowed over it and she must have sensed his attention, her eyes flickering in his direction. "You know, it's rude to stare."
Her voice was husky, a crisp edge that rasped along his spine and sealed her appeal. Derek was hooked. Her eyes were back on the doors, her lack of interest obvious.
He should've taken it as a sign, but since when had he backed off from anything he fancied?
8.4
I worked three double shifts at the garage just to buy a velvet-boxed cake for my wealthy girlfriend, Arleen.
But when I pushed open the VIP room door, I saw her lover kissing her bare leg.
She didn't push him away. Instead, she laughed and swirled her martini.
"I only forgot Finn because I knew he would stay. He is a poor boy from Queens who follows me around like a loyal dog."
Later that night, her lover intentionally crashed a Porsche to scare me, sending a piece of jagged metal into my skull.
Lying in a growing pool of my own blood, I watched Arleen crawl out of the wreckage.
She didn't even look at me. She threw herself at her uninjured lover, screaming for a medic.
"He just got scraped by a piece of plastic. He is faking it. Deal with Jaquez first!"
When I woke up, I wasn't free. Arleen had locked me in a private hospital wing with 24-hour security, planning to isolate me and keep me as her broken, captive toy forever.
My blind, pathetic devotion finally froze into absolute disgust.
I looked at the heart monitor next to my bed and grabbed an IV needle.
I severed the sensor wire to trigger a flatline, slipped out the fire stairs while the nurses panicked, and burned my identity to ashes.
This time, I was going to disappear to London, build my own empire, and watch hers burn.
9.5
Elsie was the Sutton family's perfect puppet, a sickly heiress locked away in a pristine manor and treated like fragile porcelain. Her only purpose was to be a pawn in her mother's corporate games.
Without warning, her mother ordered her to marry Duke Blake, a ruthless, cold-blooded billionaire known for destroying his rivals. Worse, her mother immediately handed over total control of Elsie's life to him, declaring she couldn't even step outside the gates without his explicit permission.
Desperate, Elsie met him and asked if she would be expected to perform wifely duties, praying for a marriage in name only.
"I have a very high sex drive."
He stated it bluntly, shattering her illusions. Yet, when he drove her into the city days later, a sudden swerve sent her tumbling directly into his lap. Instead of the desire he claimed to possess, his body went completely rigid. He violently shoved her away, slamming her hard against the passenger seat. His face was pale, his knuckles white, and he stared straight ahead with a look of absolute, terrifying revulsion.
Humiliation and sharp pain coiled in her chest. She couldn't understand. Why did he demand absolute control over her and boast about his desires, only to treat her accidental touch like a repulsive disease? Why did this all-powerful man secretly smell of hospital antiseptics? What exactly was the Sutton family forcing her to marry?
But she was no longer willing to be a lamb led to the slaughter. Thinking of the provocative black lace hidden behind her wardrobe's false wall, Elsie smiled coldly. She was going to find the fatal flaw in this ruthless billionaire's code, and use it to completely shatter her cage.
7.9
I woke up in a burning warehouse, twelve years after my supposed death. My body had been reset to its physical prime, the deep burn scar on my wrist completely gone.
Through the smoke, my eldest son, Kennard, rushed blindly into the flames. He was screaming the name of the very woman who had orchestrated this trap—Brittnie.
When I tackled him out of the way of a falling steel beam, he didn't recognize my youthful face. Instead, he pinned me to the concrete and nearly crushed my windpipe.
"How much did she pay you to carve up your face to look like a dead woman?"
He hissed the words at me, treating me like a sick corporate spy. For a decade, a bizarre narrative "script" had brainwashed my son, forcing him into pathetic devotion to Brittnie. She had drained his wealth, turned my daughter against him, and hollowed out our family empire.
Whenever Kennard tried to resist her, the mind control punished him with agonizing migraines, driving him to smash his own hands against the wall just to cope with the pain.
Hearing him quietly sobbing outside my locked door, my heart shattered. How could this invisible force torture my brilliant son and turn my family into puppets for a D-list actress?
I dragged him to the hospital for a DNA test.
When the results confirmed my maternity at 99.999%, the cold billionaire collapsed to the floor, weeping in my arms like a lost child.
I wiped his tears and smiled ruthlessly. It was time to take back my empire and burn Brittnie's life to the ground.
9.8
I was an unwanted foster kid taken in by the Goodwin family, about to marry into the wealthy Cantu family to secure my adoptive father's power.
But at my rehearsal dinner, my adoptive mother drugged my champagne, intending to have me assaulted and ruined.
The next morning, my fiancé and my sister burst into my hotel room with a swarm of reporters, pointing fingers in manufactured horror.
"You filthy whore! The engagement is over!"
My fiancé roared for the cameras, while my sister sobbed about my betrayal. They had brought the press to publicly slaughter me, justifying their own secret affair while my adoptive family cursed me as a disgusting stray.
For years, I had endured their toxic abuse, only to be thrown to the wolves so my sister could steal my life. They truly believed I was just a helpless pawn they could crush and discard.
But they didn't know I had anticipated their trap and deliberately walked into the bed of Dorian Underwood—the ruthless billionaire and the only man the Cantu family actually feared.
As I calmly hit 'send' to broadcast my fiancé's explicit sex tape to every reporter in the hallway, I met Dorian's dark, predatory gaze.
I wasn't just surviving anymore; I was going to tear both their empires to the ground.
8.0
Madeline slammed the prenuptial agreement onto the table, forcing Danielle to sign herself away as a "blood bag" bride.
To secure her mother's safety, Danielle was sold to the ruthless, comatose billionaire Deforest Stuart. She kept her head down, perfectly playing the role of a terrified, broken mute.
But on her wedding night, Deforest's sister set a vicious trap, dragging Danielle to a hotel to be ruined by a sleazy investor.
Danielle was prepared to escape, but the hotel door was suddenly smashed open by a massive figure.
It wasn't the investor. It was her comatose husband, Deforest, temporarily awakened by a violent, drug-induced rage.
In the pitch-black room, he pinned her down, mistaking her scent for a ghost from his past, and violently claimed her.
She fled before dawn, only to be blinded by camera flashes.
His sister dragged her back to the Stuart manor, ripping her collar open under the chandelier to expose the dark hickeys on her neck.
"Throw this shameless whore out into the street!" the matriarch ordered.
Danielle's eyes grew cold. If they kicked her out now, her years of planning to tear this rotten family apart would be completely destroyed.
No one believed that the monster who assaulted her was the very man lying perfectly still in the medical wing.
Playing the frantic mute, Danielle dragged the family to his bedroom.
Right as the guards reached for her, she launched herself onto the bed, crushing her weight directly onto Deforest's chest.
A second later, the "comatose" tyrant's eyes snapped open with murderous rage, and her real game of revenge finally began.