His Unwanted Wife Is A Genius Healer
Elizbeth married the wealthy heir Carlton Wilkinson to save her grandfather's life's work.
But on their wedding night, instead of a loving husband, she faced a cold tyrant. He forced her to sign a brutal prenup, stripped her of all family rights, and banished her to a dingy guest room.
He was convinced she was just a pathetic, gold-digging liar.
When a catastrophic pain attack drove Carlton to smash his own head against the wall, Elizbeth rushed in to save him using her specialized acupuncture. She risked her life to calm his spasming nerves.
But the moment he woke up, he nearly choked her to death. He threw her against the wall, bleeding and bruised, accusing her of using cheap parlor tricks to poison him.
The next morning, his greedy relatives openly mocked her cheap clothes, waiting like vultures for Carlton to drop dead so they could steal his fortune.
Elizbeth was humiliated and terrified, but she soon discovered a classified secret.
Carlton was a former Delta Force operator slowly going mad from an undetectable weaponized biotoxin. The poison made him paranoid and violent. He would rather die in agony than accept help from a woman he despised.
Begged by his desperate grandfather, Elizbeth knew she had to cure him in the shadows.
At 1:00 AM, she slipped a heavy, odorless sedative into his water and sneaked into his pitch-black bedroom to begin the detox.
But as her silver needle hovered over his skin, a massive hand shot out and pinned her violently to the mattress.
"How much did they pay you to poison me?" he hissed in the dark, his eyes wide awake and blazing with murderous fury.
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Chapter 6
Elizbeth's toes barely brushed the floor. The back of her head throbbed from hitting the wall. She gripped Carlton's iron wrist with both hands, trying to pry his fingers apart.
"I... was... saving you," she forced out, the words scraping painfully through her crushed windpipe.
Carlton let out a dark, mocking laugh. His eyes were filled with absolute contempt. He squeezed his fingers tighter.
Elizbeth's face turned from red to a sickly shade of purple. The lack of oxygen forced hot, physiological tears out of the corners of her eyes. They tracked down her cheeks, dropping onto his knuckles.
Suddenly, Carlton froze. His jaw went slack, and he blinked in confusion.
The agonizing, brain-splitting pain that had been torturing him for months-the pain that usually took hours of heavy sedation to even dull-was completely gone. His head felt incredibly clear.
Shock flashed across his face. His grip on her throat involuntarily loosened.
Elizbeth seized the moment. She ripped his fingers away from her neck and slid down the wall, collapsing onto the floor.
She clutched her throat, coughing violently. She sucked in huge, greedy gulps of air, her chest heaving.
Carlton stood over her, his expression a chaotic mix of suspicion and disbelief. "Explain," he commanded coldly.
Elizbeth swallowed hard, soothing her raw throat. She tilted her head up and met his gaze without flinching.
"Let me take your pulse," she demanded.
Carlton's brow furrowed. His entire body rejected the idea of this mystical nonsense. He didn't move an inch.
But the unprecedented clarity in his head made him hesitate. Slowly, his face hardening into a scowl, he extended his thick wrist toward her.
Elizbeth pushed herself up onto her knees. She reached out and pressed her three middle fingers against his strong, steady pulse point.
She closed her eyes, tuning out the room. She focused entirely on the rhythm of his blood.
Within seconds, her eyebrows pulled together in a tight frown. His pulse was chaotic, violent, and highly aggressive.
This wasn't a natural neurological disease. It felt like a severe rejection response caused by a foreign, synthetic substance.
Elizbeth opened her eyes and pulled her hand back. Her expression was grave.
"Your pulse isn't from an illness," she said, her voice steady and laced with absolute clinical certainty. "It's the chaotic signature of a complex synthetic biotoxin attacking your nervous system. Standard medicine can't even detect it, let alone treat it."
The moment the word "biotoxin" left her mouth, the tiny flicker of confusion in Carlton's eyes twisted into immediate, dark suspicion.
He felt like an absolute idiot for letting a gold-digging woman trick him for even a second. A hot wave of fury washed over him.
Carlton snatched his wrist back. A cruel, mocking smirk twisted his lips. He was convinced she was just a con artist playing for time.
He pointed a rigid finger at the open door. "Get out!" he roared, his voice shaking the walls. "Don't ever bring your pathetic parlor tricks near me again!"
Elizbeth stood up, taking a step toward him. "Carlton, you have to listen to me, the acupuncture principle-"
Carlton grabbed the heavy crystal ashtray off the side table and hurled it at the doorframe next to her head.
The crystal shattered into a hundred pieces. A sharp shard of glass flew back and sliced across Elizbeth's cheek.
A thin line of bright red blood welled up on her pale skin.
Elizbeth stared at him, the sheer violence of his rejection stabbing her in the chest. The light in her eyes dimmed.
She didn't say another word. She crouched down, her hands trembling slightly as she picked up her scattered silver needles from the carpet. She slid them back into the leather roll.
She stood up, gave him one last, hollow look, and walked out of the hostile room.
Carlton watched her thin back disappear down the dark hallway. He slammed his fist into the wall, a sudden, inexplicable irritation clawing at his chest.
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8.1
Elinor's frail daughter, Cece, died in a sterile hospital room while waiting for her father to take her to Disney World.
But her billionaire husband, Derick, never showed up. At the exact moment Cece's heart monitor flatlined, the hospital TV broadcasted Derick affectionately holding the hand of his mistress and he has booked a clearance of the entire Disneyland to celebrate mistress's daughter's birthday!.
When Elinor confronted Derick with their daughter's ashes, he sneered and accused her of hiding the child just to get his attention. Elinor's heart was torn to shreds. How could a father be so blind and ruthless? Did Kamryn use his power to steal the very kidney that belonged to Cece? Why did her innocent baby have to die for their sick affair?
The suffocating grief inside Elinor finally crystallized into a sharp blade. She wiped the blood from her lips, canceled the simple divorce, and began her ruthless revenge.
9.7
Clarissa rushed into a crowded nightclub for one simple reason: to save her wildly drunk best friend.
But her ruthless billionaire husband, Giovanny, was watching from the VIP room. After effortlessly ruining a man just for grabbing her wrist, Giovanny punished Clarissa for breaching their public image contract with an impossible curfew.
When she inevitably arrived back at his penthouse late, he didn't just yell. He forced her to her knees by his bathtub to wash his back, making her watch an explicit, humiliating video as punishment.
A sudden family medical emergency dragged them to his parents' estate. Still in her soaked, transparent dress and his misbuttoned shirt, Giovanny's mother caught them. She joyfully assumed they had been passionately intimate.
Instead of clearing her name, Giovanny pulled Clarissa close and lied to his mother's face.
"We are working very hard on the family's future, Mother."
He locked her in the guest suite, tossed a sheer silk nightgown on the bed, and literally shattered the tablet holding their "no-contact" prenuptial agreement. He then slapped a file against the window—he had secretly bought all her father's toxic debt.
Clarissa was terrified. They were supposed to be business allies bound by a strict contract. Why was he suddenly acting like a predator determined to own her body and soul?
"Give me an heir, or your father goes to federal prison," he whispered.
Stripped of all choices, Clarissa picked up the white silk. She would surrender tonight to save her family, but as his shadow swallowed her, she made a silent vow to survive this monster, and one day, tear his empire to the ground.
7.5
Five years of a fake marriage to a billionaire.
Christi thought she was a wealthy wife-until City Hall told her the truth.
No marriage license. No legal rights. Nothing but a lie.
Her husband cheated on her for four years.
His entire family mocked her, used her, and planned to trap her with a baby.
She was ready to ruin them all.
Then a secret changed everything:
Her late parents were DARPA elites. She is the sole heir to $50 billion.
There's only one catch-marry Cornelius Gregory, Wall Street's ruthless paralyzed tycoon.
She signs the contract in an instant.
Freeze their accounts. Destroy the Rivera family.
The game is over for them.
And the queen has just arrived.
9.7
Emaline Finley was drowning in massive debt to keep her dying father alive, even enduring a humiliating blind date with an arrogant man just to find a financial lifeline.
But the fatal blow came from her former best friend, Kitty. Kitty, who was already engaged to Emaline's ex-boyfriend, deliberately told Emaline's father that his expensive treatments were bleeding his daughter dry.
Out of extreme guilt, her father threw away his life-saving medication and checked himself out of the hospital to die at home. When Emaline found him, he was coughing up pools of bright red blood, his lungs rapidly collapsing. As the paramedics rushed him away, Kitty called to gloat, mocking Emaline's poverty and telling her to go watch her father die.
Emaline was completely shattered, suffocating under the sheer injustice of it all. She had been betrayed, stripped of her dignity, and was now forced to watch her only parent slip away because of a cruel, spiteful lie.
Just as her world went dark, a wildly wealthy stranger stepped in. Cullen Preston, the mysterious man who had witnessed her humiliating date, paid the astronomical medical bills and brought in the city's top surgeon to pull her father back from death. But his salvation wasn't charity.
"Consider it a dowry."
He bought her father's life, and in exchange, he demanded Emaline as his wife.
9.7
I secured the lifeline investment for my fiancé's company and went to his office to surprise him.
Instead, I caught Preston sleeping with his top actress—the woman he publicly claimed as his stepsister.
Through the cracked door, I heard him call me his "scarred, ugly bitch shield" to hide their sickening affair.
I didn't cry. I hacked the live broadcast of the Star Awards and played their sex tape to two thousand people.
But that night, drunk and reeling from the agonizing nerve pain in my facial scar, I stumbled into the wrong hotel penthouse.
I was pinned down by a drugged billionaire, Josephus Hodges.
The next morning, he left me a million-dollar check and a Plan B pill.
When he later tracked me down to offer a cold, calculated fake marriage just to absorb Preston's ruined empire, I threw the contract at his chest and told him to go to hell.
But when I got home and looked in the mirror, the chronic, burning torture in my scar was completely gone.
His touch during that terrifying night had somehow cured the agony that had ruined my life.
I had just declared war on the only man on earth who could heal me.
Just then, my ruined ex-fiancé called, begging me to save him with a PR press conference.
"I'll do it, but I control the venue."
I booked it at Josephus's heavily guarded hotel. I was going to slaughter my ex on live television, and force the apex predator to look at me again.
7.1
The night before her wedding to Wall Street billionaire Everette Baird, Deliah Quinn stood happily in her haute couture gown.
Then, her younger sister Arvilla walked in, handed her a drugged glass of champagne, and slammed an ultrasound on the vanity.
"I'm pregnant with Everette's child," Arvilla sneered.
Before Deliah's paralyzed body could react, Arvilla dragged in a canister of industrial gasoline, soaked the bridal suite, tossed a lighter, and locked the heavy oak doors from the outside.
To escape the roaring inferno, Deliah smashed the glass balcony and threw herself into the freezing, violent waters of the Atlantic Ocean.
For five agonizing years, everyone believed the Quinn heiress was dead.
Deliah returned to New York entirely reborn—a top architectural designer and a single mother, having scrubbed her past clean and forgotten the people who destroyed her.
She only wanted a peaceful life with her five-year-old genius son, Leo.
But she had no idea her son was secretly hacking airport security cameras to find himself a wealthy stepdad.
Leo deliberately bumped into a terrifying, cold-blooded tycoon, spilling scalding coffee on his custom suit to get his attention.
When Deliah frantically rushed over to protect her son and apologize, the air in the terminal vanished.
Everette Baird stared at the exact face he had obsessively mourned for five years, his eyes turning pitch black as he crushed his phone in his bare hand.