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 3
Three years later.
The heavy iron gates of the Upstate New York Federal Women's Correctional Facility slid open with a deafening, metallic screech.
Ada walked out of the dark concrete tunnel. She wore a cheap, faded gray trench coat that hung loosely on her emaciated frame.
The bright afternoon sunlight hit her face. She flinched, raising her hand to shield her eyes. The back of her hand was covered in raised, purple scars from severe frostbite. She remembered the brutal winter when the guards, bribed by Jacklyn, had stripped her of her coat and locked her in an unheated solitary cell for three days. The agonizing burn of the ice eating into her flesh was a nightmare she would never forget.
She took a deep breath of free air, but the sudden intake of oxygen irritated her lungs, which had been damaged by three years of damp, freezing cells. A violent fit of coughing shook her fragile shoulders.
A black Ford sedan idled by the side of the road. The driver's door opened, and her cousin, Gary Fowler, hurried out.
"Ada," Gary said, his eyes filled with pity. He wrapped his arms around her thin body.
Ada leaned her forehead against his shoulder. It was the first time in three years she had felt human warmth.
Gary took the plastic bag holding her few belongings and opened the passenger door for her.
Ada slid into the seat. The car pulled away, leaving behind the concrete hell that had buried her youth and the memory of the baby they told her was stillborn.
Gary handed her a paper cup of hot coffee from the cup holder, his fingers pressing a small, cheap burner phone into her palm along with it. "Hide this," he whispered quickly, his eyes darting to the rearview mirror. "Use it only when absolutely necessary."
"It's over, Ada. Everything is going to be okay now," Gary continued, his tone shifting back to a comforting pitch. "Although... do you still remember Kael? It's a pity what happened to him after you went inside. He disappeared completely."
Ada's fingers tightened around the phone, slipping it deep into her coat pocket. The mention of Kael sent a dull ache through her chest, a ghost from a past she was too broken to mourn. She held the warm cup with both hands. Her eyes were dead and hollow as she stared at the passing trees. "How is Caleb?" she asked, her voice raspy from disuse, pivoting to the only blood relative she had left.
Gary shifted in his seat, avoiding her eyes. "Your brother is still in the state prison in California. He's... stable."
Before Ada could ask more, the screech of heavy tires ripped through the air.
Three massive, black Cadillac Escalades swerved out from a dirt crossroad. They formed a solid wall of steel across the highway, forcing Gary to slam on the brakes.
The Ford jerked violently. The hot coffee spilled over Ada's hands and her gray coat.
She looked up, her heart suddenly pounding against her ribs like a trapped bird.
The door of the center Escalade opened. A polished black leather dress shoe stepped onto the dusty asphalt.
Desmond Ortiz stepped out. He wore a perfectly tailored dark suit, looking like a king descending to inspect a slaughter.
Seeing the face that had haunted her nightmares for a thousand nights, Ada's lungs forgot how to expand. Her entire body began to shake uncontrollably.
"Hey! What the hell are you doing?" Gary yelled, unbuckling his seatbelt and jumping out of the car.
Desmond didn't even glance at him. He gave a slight nod. Two bodyguards rushed forward, grabbed Gary by the neck, and slammed his face hard against the hood of the Ford.
Desmond walked slowly to the passenger side window. He raised his hand and tapped his knuckles against the glass.
Get out.
Ada bit down on her lower lip so hard she tasted copper. She shook her head frantically, pressing her back against the seat.
Desmond's jaw tightened. He reached into his suit jacket, pulled out a thick stack of legal documents, and slapped them flat against the glass.
"Gary's company was liquidated yesterday," Desmond's voice was muffled but dangerously clear through the window. "I bought his debt. If you don't step out of this car right now, your cousin is going to federal prison for commercial fraud."
The words hit Ada like a physical blow to the stomach. Her family was already destroyed. She couldn't let Gary go down because of her.
Her psychological defenses crumbled into dust.
With trembling fingers, she pulled the door handle. The door swung open. She stepped out, immediately swallowed by Desmond's tall shadow.
Desmond reached out and pinched her chin between his thumb and forefinger. He forced her head up, his dark eyes scanning her hollow cheeks and scarred skin.
"Look at you," he sneered, his voice dripping with disgust. "You look exactly like the trash you are."
He let go of her face. He gestured to his bodyguards.
A hand shoved Ada roughly between the shoulder blades. She stumbled forward and was thrown into the back seat of his waiting Maybach.
The heavy door slammed shut behind her, sealing her fate.
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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.