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 5
The Maybach screeched to a halt in front of the Ortiz Manor.
Desmond dragged Ada out of the car by her wrist. He hauled her up the stone steps and threw her through the front doors.
Ada tripped over the edge of the Persian rug and crashed to the marble floor. Her elbow slammed into the sharp corner of a glass coffee table. She gasped, clutching her arm as a sharp, sickening pain radiated up to her shoulder.
Desmond stood over her. He reached into his jacket and threw a piece of paper onto the floor beside her face.
It was a medical transfer log from the California State Prison.
"Your brother Caleb was stabbed in the yard yesterday," Desmond said, his voice devoid of any human emotion. "He needs emergency surgery. If you ever try to run from me again, the warden will make sure the doctors never arrive."
Ada stared at the paper. The letters blurred as tears filled her eyes. Her brother was bleeding out in a prison yard because of her.
The last pillar of her resistance snapped. She lowered her head until her forehead touched the cold marble floor. "Please," she whispered brokenly. "I'll do whatever you want. Just save him."
Before Desmond could answer, the sound of light, rapid footsteps echoed from the top of the stairs.
"Desmond!" Jacklyn's voice was sweet and melodic.
She walked down the stairs, holding the hand of a little boy. He looked about three years old. He wore a tailored navy blue suit. He had dark hair and eyes that looked strikingly like Desmond's.
Jacklyn walked over and linked her arm through Desmond's. She looked down at Ada on the floor and let out a soft, mocking laugh. "Oh, is this the new maid? She looks a bit dirty."
The little boy, Jakob, let go of Jacklyn's hand. He walked curiously toward Ada, his big eyes staring at the scars on her face.
As the boy stepped closer, a strange, violent jolt hit Ada's chest. Her heart started beating in a frantic, irregular rhythm. A bizarre, magnetic pull drew her eyes to the child, a phantom ache blooming in her empty womb. She didn't know why, but looking at his small face, a wave of desperate, suffocating maternal instinct washed over her. Every cell in her body screamed that she knew this child. The memory of the delivery room hit her like a physical blow-the brief second she had felt her newborn's warmth before they told her he was dead.
"No..." Ada muttered. Her mind fractured under the weight of the impossible connection. She lunged forward and grabbed Jakob's small arm, pulling him closer to her face, her eyes frantically searching his terrified features. "What is your name? Who are you?"
Jakob screamed in terror, trying to pull his arm away. "Mommy!"
Smack!
Jacklyn's hand cracked across Ada's face with brutal force. The slap threw Ada sideways, her cheek burning with fire. Jacklyn snatched Jakob and hid him behind her legs.
Desmond grabbed Ada by the collar of her coat and hauled her to her feet, his face twisted in absolute fury. "Don't you ever touch my son again!"
Ada didn't feel the pain in her cheek. She pointed a shaking finger at the boy. "He's mine! Desmond, I can feel it! He's my baby! You stole him from me!"
Jacklyn's face paled for a fraction of a second, but she quickly masked it with a look of disgusted pity. "She's insane, Desmond. Prison made her lose her mind. She's projecting her dead bastard onto Jakob."
Desmond's grip on Ada's collar tightened until she choked. He looked at her with pure revulsion. "You disgust me. Using your dead affair baby to insult my heir."
He threw her back onto the floor. He looked at the head butler. "Take her to the servant's quarters. Put her in a uniform. She starts scrubbing the floors today."
Two guards grabbed Ada by the arms and dragged her away. She fought them, twisting her neck to keep her eyes locked on Jakob until the heavy oak doors slammed shut, cutting off her view.
In the cramped, windowless servant's room, the butler threw a scratchy gray uniform at her feet.
Ada collapsed onto the narrow cot. She pressed her hands against her mouth to muffle her sobs. Her mind was spinning. The birthmark. The timing. Jacklyn's fake pregnancy.
She bit down on her lip until she tasted blood. A tiny, dangerous spark of hope ignited in the ashes of her soul. She had to find out the truth. Even if it killed her.
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9.5
The disgraced daughter of the Patton family is back from the countryside.At the news, everyone spurned her with contempt!
A good-for-nothing young lady, a crude village wench, a vicious devil...
Until one day--The world-famous life-saving medical sovereign is her.The enigmatic top forensic specialist is her.The grandmaster hacker hunted across the globe is also her.
One hidden identity of the young miss came to light after another.Shocked and dumbfounded, the crowd fell to their knees to beg for forgiveness.
In an instant, Evie was cornered by the mysterious powerhouse.Hartwell's voice lured and mesmerized:"Darling, you have countless secret identities. Would you mind taking on one more, being my wife!"
8.6
As the eldest daughter of the Sharp family, I was treated worse than a stray dog, while my younger sister Seraphina was their precious princess.
When the family needed someone to marry a dying billionaire heir, they naturally chose me to take her place.
To force my consent, my brothers held a peanut butter sandwich to my face—knowing it was a lethal allergy—while dangling my EpiPen just out of reach.
On speakerphone, my own mother sighed in annoyance.
"Let her die. It might be for the best."
I choked out an agreement just as my throat closed up. But the forced engagement broke my sacred mystical vow, causing me to violently cough up my own lifeblood.
Seeing the blood, Seraphina dramatically fainted. My brothers instantly carried her to the hospital, stepping over my dying body and leaving me to bleed out on the cold marble floor.
I had to use a forbidden blood rune, draining my last ounce of strength, just to survive the night.
Even the mystical Order I served offered no comfort, calling only to demand I secure ten billion dollars for them or forfeit my soul for eternity.
Abandoned by my blood family and my spiritual master, I was completely alone, left with nothing but a broken body and a ticking clock.
But they made one fatal mistake: they let me live.
I turned to the dying heir they forced me to marry, a man plagued by a dark curse only I could cure.
"I will be your wife, and I will save your life," I told him.
In exchange, I would use his unimaginable wealth and power to make everyone who threw me away pay the ultimate price.
7.7
Alondra spent three hours making soup for her husband, only to find him at the hospital tenderly holding another woman's hand.
"I'm four weeks pregnant, Gerard," the woman said softly.
Gerard coldly handed Alondra a divorce agreement, claiming their three-year marriage was just a placeholder because this woman had once saved his life.
Heartbroken, Alondra fled in her car, only to realize her brakes had been completely disabled.
She spun out of control and crashed head-on into a massive delivery truck.
As she lay trapped in the mangled wreckage with her ribs crushed and blood filling her mouth, Gerard's black Maybach pulled up to the curb.
He stared at her dying body through the window with a completely blank expression.
He didn't call an ambulance or even open his door.
He simply rolled up his tinted window and drove away into the rain.
A raw, suffocating hatred burned in her chest, hotter than the pain in her shattered bones.
She couldn't understand how the man she had loved and served so devotedly could just coldly watch her die like a piece of trash.
Opening her eyes again, Alondra gasped for air.
She had returned to the exact morning two years ago, right before she was supposed to deliver that pathetic soup.
When Gerard walked in and threatened her with divorce, she didn't cry or beg.
"I agree. Let's divorce," she said calmly, packing her bags to reclaim her true identity as a billionaire heiress.
7.5
Julianna was drowning in a corporate warzone, fighting a massive department deficit while fending off her mother’s relentless matchmaking.
Then, a ghost from her past returned to shatter her reality.
Eight years ago, Aidan Caldwell walked out of her life without a word. Now, he was back in New York as a ruthless billionaire, and a pitch-black Maybach started stalking her in the dim underground garage.
She had no idea the driver hiding behind the obsidian-tinted glass was Aidan.
She didn't know he had just choked a confession out of an executive, discovering that her "betrayal" eight years ago was a complete lie.
"Stay away from her. The rules are mine now."
Aidan had warned his rivals, his sanity tearing at the seams as he watched from the shadows while a creepy coworker put an arm around her shoulder.
He shattered glasses and crushed her favorite white flowers in his penthouse, driven by a lethal, obsessive jealousy seeing other men touch what belonged to him.
Julianna was completely in the dark, feeling only a heavy, predatory stare pinning her to the cold concrete.
When a sudden, heartbreaking scent of cedarwood rolled out of the cracked car window, her brain short-circuited.
Why was this terrifying stranger stalking her in the shadows?
Desperate to save her career, Julianna recklessly agreed to fake an engagement with a wealthy heir this weekend.
But she had no idea Aidan had already rigged her company's crisis, and the predator was about to tear her world apart to claim her back.
8.0
I am the sole heir to the Beaumont empire, engaged to Julian for three years to secure our families' alliance.
But on the night of my 24th birthday, he left me waiting at a crowded bar for three hours. I called him twelve times, and he ignored every single one.
The next day, he claimed he was busy saving his ex-girlfriend, Abby, from an eviction. He promised to make it up to me at my wedding dress fitting. Yet, right before I stepped out in my gown, he ran off again. He even outsourced accompanying me to buy our wedding rings to my father's imposing Chief Operating Officer, Alex.
When my friend sent me a live video from a nightclub, I realized the humiliating truth. Julian had abandoned me at the bridal shop to get into a bloody street brawl over Abby. Even after I rushed to the club and used my family name to save him from being arrested, he still hesitated when his ex-girlfriend grabbed his arm.
"Julian, please don't leave me."
Hearing Abby's manufactured cries, he chose to stay by her side instead of following me. I stared at his bloody knuckles in pure, unfiltered disgust. Why was I ruining my pride for a man who constantly put another woman first?
Without looking back, I walked out of the club and got straight into Alex's waiting car. This time, I am canceling the wedding.
9.5
For ten years, I was the perfect, obedient wife to my wealthy husband, managing his severe OCD and hosting flawless high-society parties.
But on our tenth anniversary, when I brought him his special hangover soup, I caught him sleeping with my younger sister in our master bedroom.
Instead of panicking, he coldly handed me divorce papers with zero assets. He told me I was just a "placeholder" until my sister finished her degree and was ready to take my spot.
Desperate, I called my mother for help, only to find out she had known about their affair for years.
"You don't have Jana's drive or her looks. You clean house and you cook. That's not a wife, that's a domestic."
My own mother sneered at me, telling me to walk away quietly because our family needed his financial support.
They kicked me out of the penthouse with nothing but a suitcase, laughing that a woman who hadn't worked in a decade would end up begging on the streets.
I bled for this family for ten years, only to be thrown away like garbage when my sister wanted my life.
But they didn't know that while I was playing the boring housewife, I had secretly earned a Cordon Bleu diploma, a Cornell nutrition certification, and a Columbia master's degree.
Using a hidden photo to blackmail a property out of him, I packed my elite credentials and landed a $300,000-a-year job managing a billionaire's estate.
When my ex-husband drunkenly called days later demanding I come back to serve him, I calmly hit block.