Reborn Heiress: Divorcing My Ruthless Husband

She loved him until she lost herself. Now, behind locked doors and shattered glass, she must learn to breathe again. When she first met Lloyd, he was magnetic and intoxicating. The kind of man who turned every head when he entered a room, who spoke in promises sweet enough to taste. With him, she felt chosen, cherished, and safe. But safety was an illusion, and love became a weapon. And slowly, piece by piece, he dismantled her until nothing of the woman she once was remained. Now institutionalized after a breakdown, she begins to piece together the brutal truth of what really happened in the shadows of their love story. Memories sting like open wounds: the manipulation disguised as tenderness, the apologies that blurred into threats, the desperate hope that tomorrow he'd be the man she fell for again. Yet beneath the grief and the shame, a quiet rebellion stirs, a vow to reclaim her voice, her freedom, and her life. Because this is not just a story of how she fell apart. It is a story of how she rises. Haunting, raw, and achingly intimate, Boys like him peels back the glittering mask of a toxic love affair to reveal the kind of darkness that hides in plain sight, and the unbreakable strength it takes to escape it.

Helen was finally brought back to the luxurious Gallagher estate as their long-lost blood relative. But her new family didn't welcome her; they looked at her with undisguised disgust. The matriarch mocked her stench of poverty, while her step-sister Candice treated her like a feral animal. The patriarch, Fredy—who had built his empire by betraying Helen's mother—tried to break her spirit. He blackmailed Helen into attending a high-society gala by threatening to cut off her grandmother's medical funds. At the gala, Candice squeezed into a diamond-encrusted gown, desperate to seduce the guest of honor, Damian Montgomery. Damian was the most powerful man in New York, and he was currently tearing the city apart looking for a mysterious woman named Jane. Overhearing this, a sick, greedy smile spread across Candice's face. She planned to impersonate Jane to claim Damian's wealth and completely crush Helen under her heel. "Hide in the corner tonight. Don't you dare try to speak to anyone important!" They all thought Helen was just a helpless, uncultured country girl they could easily manipulate and step on to secure their stolen legacy. What they didn't know was that Helen was the real Jane. She was the lethal shadow who had saved Damian in the woods, shattered his grip, and robbed his highly guarded vault just the night before. Helen calmly adjusted her simple black dress and stepped into the ballroom, ready to tear their stolen world apart.

I was eight months pregnant, waiting on the sofa for my billionaire husband to come home. But when the heavy oak doors opened, Cayden threw a fake DNA test on the glass table, showing a zero percent probability of paternity. He accused me of carrying another man's bastard. I cried and begged, swearing I was framed by his childhood friend, Carmella. He didn't listen. Instead, he ordered his massive bodyguards to pin me down while a private doctor forced an abortion pill down my throat. "The Merritt family does not raise bastards. Get rid of it." He forced me to sign divorce papers and ordered his men to throw me out into the freezing storm. Before I was dragged away, I desperately told him the truth: I was the anonymous donor who gave him a kidney to save his life three years ago. He just sneered, saying Carmella had the surgical scar to prove she was the donor, and kicked me out to die. Lying in the freezing rain, vomiting up the half-dissolved poison to save my baby, I didn't understand how the man I loved could be so completely blind. How could he let that woman steal my kidney, my marriage, and murder his own flesh and blood? Five years later, I returned to New York not as his pathetic discarded wife, but as a top-tier medical fixer for the global elite. And my genius five-year-old son has already infiltrated his mansion, ready to tear his empire apart from the inside.

On Valentine's Day, love is in the air-but so is danger. At 30,000 feet, trainee captain Jane Harley proves she's more than just a rising pilot when she navigates a terrifying turbulence that leaves passengers shaken and lives hanging by a thread. Calm under pressurej and fiercely capable, Jane becomes the unexpected hero of Flight 423. But while she's saving lives in the sky, fate is already setting something far more complicated in motion. Among the passengers is the powerful and ambitious mother of Jayden-Aurelia Air's largest shareholder-whose midair health crisis is only the beginning of a chain of events. Grateful and intrigued, she sets her sights on Jane... not just as a hero, but as a future daughter-in-law. Jayden, a grounded pilot with a sharp mind and guarded heart, has no interest in his mother's schemes-until one unexpected name changes everything. In a world of wealth, expectations, and high-altitude emotions, two lives are about to collide. Love, ambition, and fate take flight in Falling at 30,000 Feet.

Years ago, when I was very small, we lived in a great house in a long, straight, brown-coloured street, in the east end of London. It was a noisy, crowded street in the daytime; but a silent, lonesome street at night, when the gas-lights, few and far between, partook of the character of lighthouses rather than of illuminants, and the tramp, tramp of the policeman on his long beat seemed to be ever drawing nearer, or fading away, except for brief moments when the footsteps ceased, as he paused to rattle a door or window, or to flash his lantern into some dark passage leading down towards the river.

Charlene was locked in a Swiss asylum by the wealthy Gay family, force-fed antipsychotics until her hands shook violently. Her adoptive brother, Columbus, dragged her out of the psych ward merely to parade her as a prop for the paparazzi. He had locked her up to get a psychiatric evaluation, ensuring she was declared legally insane and unable to claim her massive trust fund. The moment she returned to the estate, the torment worsened. Her other brother, Antwan, kicked her to the ground and shattered her wrist on the gravel. "You lost your legal rights, you stupid bitch," he sneered, while the staff blindly ignored her agony. Her childhood bedroom was completely gutted and given to a distant cousin. Worse, she discovered Columbus was secretly sleeping with Isabela—the fake heiress who had framed Charlene in the first place. Every trace of her existence in the family was being violently scrubbed away. She had lost her dignity, her health, and the baby the doctors claimed had died in the delivery room. She couldn't understand why the family she loved hated her so viciously, stripping away everything she had. That was until she saw a little boy in the hospital hallway, a perfect, miniature replica of her own face. Clutching the gold-crested cufflink he dropped, she realized the asylum's doctor had stolen him. Her baby was alive. With her heart turned to stone, Charlene made a silent vow to crawl out of hell and burn the Gay family to the ground.