Escaping My Coldhearted Billionaire Husband
Ada was eight months pregnant, sitting peacefully in her husband's Manhattan estate, looking at a baby nursery catalog.
Suddenly, her husband's mistress, Jacklyn, walked in, threw an ultrasound photo on the table, and locked the door.
Before Ada could process the betrayal, Jacklyn dragged her to the top of the marble staircase and threw herself backward just as Desmond walked through the front doors.
"She pushed me, Desmond! She tried to kill our baby!"
Desmond looked at Ada with absolute hatred.
He ignored Ada's breaking water and her agonizing screams for help, leaving her to miscarry on the freezing floor while he rushed Jacklyn to the hospital.
He sent Ada to a brutal federal prison for three years, where she was tortured and left with a body covered in horrific scars, mourning the baby she was told died at birth.
When Ada was finally released, Desmond destroyed her cousin's company to force her back to his estate as a lowly maid.
But when Ada saw Jacklyn's three-year-old son, her world stopped.
Right in the center of the little boy's palm was a faint crescent moon birthmark.
It was the exact same mark Ada had kissed on her own lifeless baby's tiny hand before the doctors took his body away.
How did her dead child become Jacklyn's little prince?
Looking at the woman who stole her life and the husband who threw her in hell, Ada clenched her scarred hands and swore she would tear their world apart to get her son back.
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Chapter 2
Jacklyn unlocked the bedroom door and dragged Ada out into the expansive second-floor hallway.
They reached the edge of the grand marble staircase. Jacklyn's fingernails dug into Ada's wrist, breaking the skin.
"Jacklyn, stop! You're hurting me!" Ada cried out, trying to pry the woman's fingers off. Her eight-month pregnant body was heavy and clumsy, making it impossible to fight back with any real force.
Downstairs, the heavy, muffled sound of a car engine shutting off echoed through the front doors. Desmond was home.
Jacklyn heard it. The vicious smirk on her face morphed into something entirely unhinged.
She suddenly let go of Ada's wrist.
Jacklyn grabbed her own flat stomach with both hands. She let out a blood-curdling, agonizing scream.
Before Ada could process what was happening, Jacklyn threw her upper body backward.
"No!" Ada's eyes widened in pure terror. She lunged forward, her hand reaching out to grab Jacklyn's dress.
Her fingers closed around empty air.
Jacklyn's body tumbled backward down the long, steep flight of marble stairs. The sickening sound of bone hitting stone echoed through the cavernous foyer.
She hit the bottom and rolled onto the massive Persian rug, coming to a dead stop.
At that exact second, the heavy carved oak front doors pushed open.
Desmond strode into the foyer, bringing the freezing winter air with him. He froze.
Jacklyn lay curled in a fetal position on the floor. A pool of dark red blood was already seeping from between her thighs, staining the expensive rug.
Desmond's head snapped up.
His eyes locked onto Ada, who was standing at the very top of the stairs, her hand still outstretched in the air.
The look in his eyes made Ada's blood turn to ice. It was the look of a man staring at a murderer.
"Desmond, I didn't-" Ada started, her voice shaking violently.
Desmond didn't hear her. He sprinted across the foyer and dropped to his knees beside Jacklyn. He pulled her bleeding body into his arms.
"Desmond," Jacklyn whimpered, her voice weak and trembling. She clutched his lapel. "She pushed me. She wanted to kill our baby."
Ada gripped the wooden banister. She forced her heavy legs to move, slowly descending the stairs. "She's lying! Desmond, it's a trap! She threw herself down!"
"Shut your mouth!" Desmond roared. His voice shook the chandelier above them. "You are just as vicious as you were when you killed Carmen!"
The sheer hatred in his voice felt like a knife twisting in Ada's gut.
Suddenly, a massive, tearing pain ripped through Ada's lower back and abdomen. It was so intense her vision went black for a second.
She doubled over, clutching her stomach, and collapsed onto her knees on the marble steps. Warm fluid gushed down her legs. Her water had broken.
"Desmond," Ada begged, gasping for air as another contraction hit her. "Please. The baby. Help me."
Desmond looked up at her. His face was a mask of absolute, terrifying indifference. He thought she was acting.
He pulled out his phone. He didn't call an ambulance for her. He dialed his private medical team and his lawyers.
"Hold her," Desmond commanded the two massive bodyguards standing by the door. "Do not let her leave this hall."
The bodyguards marched up the stairs. They grabbed Ada's shoulders roughly, pinning her to the freezing marble.
Ada screamed as another contraction tore through her body. She lay in her own amniotic fluid, watching through blurred vision as the private paramedics rushed in.
Desmond picked Jacklyn up in his arms and carried her out the front doors toward the waiting ambulance. He never looked back at Ada.
Ten minutes later, the estate manager walked into the foyer. Two federal police officers flanked him.
One of the officers pulled out a piece of paper. "Ada Thomas, you are under arrest for attempted murder."
The words sounded like they were coming from underwater. The physical pain in Ada's body finally overwhelmed her brain. Her eyes rolled back, and she slumped against the cold stone, losing consciousness completely.
The officers dragged her limp body out into the freezing night, the wail of police sirens cutting through the dark sky.
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8.9
I was tossed into a dark alley like rotting garbage, bleeding and grieving the child I had just lost.
When I was finally brought back to my fiancé Angelo's penthouse, instead of comfort, I was met with absolute disgust.
His family declared me "unclean" after the kidnapping. Angelo coldly announced he was burying the scandal by marrying my sweet, innocent cousin, Carissa.
When we were alone, Carissa stood over my bed, her voice dripping with venomous delight.
"My father arranged the kidnapping. And now, Angelo and I can finally be together."
Before I could react, she forced a silver letter opener into my hand, deliberately stabbed her own shoulder, and let out a bloodcurdling scream.
Angelo stormed in, struck me across the face, and gathered a sobbing Carissa into his arms, looking at me with absolute revulsion.
The family matriarch appeared at the door, her cold eyes sweeping over the scene before she gave a chilling order to the maids.
"Clean this up."
They pinned me down and brutally drove the blade directly into my chest.
I choked on my own blood, staring at the man who had promised me the world as he turned his back, calling my murder a "mercy."
As my heart beat its final agonizing rhythm, I made a silent vow to the shadows that if there was a next life, I would have my vendetta.
When I opened my eyes again, there was no blood, only the soft silk of my nightgown.
I had returned to the day before my eighteenth birthday.
This time, I wouldn't play the desperate victim. I was going to ally with the Devil of Chicago and burn them all to the ground.
7.0
On her wedding night, Liora Vale expected passion from her wealthy husband. Instead, she got rejection and humiliation.
When his dangerously seductive best friend, Kael Draven, corners her on the balcony and claims her virgin body with raw, unprotected fury, Liora discovers a pleasure she never knew existed.
Now addicted to Kael's brutal touch and filthy promises, the once-innocent bride becomes his secret slut, sneaking creampies in limos, riding him at galas, and begging to be bred while her husband sleeps nearby.
Kael won't stop until he destroys Silas and fills Liora's womb with his child.
She was supposed to be the perfect wife... now she's the shameless breeding whore who belongs only to him.
9.4
Six years ago, Breanna was shoved into a pitch-black hotel suite by her own uncle.
She was forced to endure a brutal night with a drugged stranger just to keep her grandmother's ventilator running.
Nine months later, she gave birth in a cold underground clinic.
But her uncle immediately snatched the crying newborn from her trembling hands, coldly announcing the baby had died.
For six years, Breanna lived in agonizing grief, working as a lowly hotel cleaner just to survive.
But a cruel setup threw her directly into the path of Elliot Finch, the arrogant billionaire from that dark night.
He did not recognize the woman whose life he had completely ruined.
Instead, he looked at her like she was rotting garbage, had his guards drag her into a wet alley, and mercilessly got her fired.
"If I ever see your face again, I will make sure you cannot get a job cleaning toilets."
Breanna was suffocating from the injustice, stripped of her dignity and her family's only lifeline.
Yet, when she instinctively protected a traumatized little boy from bullies, she discovered he was Elliot's son.
The boy clung to her neck, crying and desperately begging his father to let her stay.
But Elliot just threw a massive check at her chest, violently accusing her of brainwashing a sick child for a meal ticket.
Looking at the toxic disgust in his eyes, something inside Breanna finally broke.
She picked up the check, ripped the millions into tiny shreds, and let them rain down on his expensive shoes.
"Keep your dirty money."
She turned her back on the crying boy and the stunned billionaire, deciding she would no longer be their victim.
9.7
For three years, I was the dutiful wife of billionaire Ervin Valdez.
On our third wedding anniversary, he came home smelling of his mistress's perfume, pinned me down, and brutally mocked me.
His mistress, Sylvia, had even sent me a fake ultrasound report to force me out of the picture.
In Ervin's eyes, I was just a vicious, calculating liar who used a pregnancy to trap him into marriage.
He didn't care that I had actually lost that baby, nor did he know the trauma of my gambling father selling me to a dark club where I was assaulted by a stranger.
When I finally handed him the signed divorce papers, giving up all assets, and left the penthouse with nothing but an old suitcase, he just sneered.
"She is playing a game of hard to get. She won't last three days before she comes crying back."
He froze all my bank accounts, let his mistress humiliate me in public, and waited coldly for me to starve and beg.
He thought my entire existence relied on his wealth, completely confident that I would inevitably surrender to his control.
But he was wrong.
I calmly opened my old laptop, bypassed the complex encryptions, and looked at the dozens of unread emails from top-tier global brands begging for my return.
I resurrected my hidden identity as the legendary jewelry designer "R," and walked straight into the top design firm in Manhattan.
"It is time to find myself again."
7.6
My father raised seven brilliant orphans to be my potential husbands. For years, I only had eyes for one of them, the cold and distant Damien Paul, believing his distance was a wall I just had to break through.
That belief shattered last night when I found him in the garden, kissing his foster sister, Eve—the fragile girl my family took in at his request, the one I had treated like my own sister.
But the true horror came when I overheard the other six Fellows talking in the library.
They weren't competing for me. They were working together, orchestrating "accidents" and mocking my "stupid, blind" devotion to keep me away from Damien.
Their loyalty wasn't to me, the heiress who held their futures in her hands. It was to Eve.
I wasn't a woman to be won. I was a foolish burden to be managed. The seven men I grew up with, the men who owed my family everything, were a cult, and she was their queen.
This morning, I walked into my father's study to make a decision that would burn their world to the ground. He smiled, asking if I'd finally won Damien over.
"No, Dad," I said, my voice firm. "I'm marrying Hunter Beach."
9.0
Carli followed an anonymous text to a dark garage, only to find her fiancé of seven years tangled with another woman in his Porsche.
She smashed his window, threw her engagement ring at his face, and walked away.
But the betrayal didn't stop there. Her own family sided with the cheater. Her father slapped her across the face so hard she bled, demanding she hand over her late aunt's trust fund.
"If you don't do exactly as you're told tonight, I will freeze every credit card in your name," her father roared.
Forced to attend the exclusive Gutierrez family gala, Carli watched her ex-fiancé parade his cheap mistress to humiliate her, while her stepsister tried to publicly ruin her.
Suddenly, a violent screech echoed as the massive crystal chandelier above them snapped from the ceiling.
In a split second of pure instinct, Vaughn shoved his mistress to safety and threw himself to the ground, completely abandoning Carli to be crushed.
Staring up at the plummeting glass, Carli felt the crushing reality that her entire life had been surrounded by monsters.
But the fatal impact never came.
A massive force yanked her into a hard chest, shielding her body entirely from the explosive shrapnel.
Carli opened her eyes to find Fletcher Gutierrez—the ruthless billionaire king of Wall Street and the masked stranger from her reckless one-night stand—bleeding heavily over her.
Feeling his warm blood on her hands, Carli knew the game had just changed.