The Abandoned Wife's Glamorous Return As A Global Star
For five years, Elyse loved Trevor with everything she had, yet it meant nothing when his former lover returned-pregnant.
Reduced to the city's joke, Elyse chose dignity and handed him divorce papers, walking away with nothing.
But when both women fell into the water, he didn't hesitate-he saved the other.
"I'm sorry... she's pregnant," he said, shattering what remained of her love.
She disappeared without a trace. Three years later, she returned as a world-renowned actress, radiant and untouchable.
When Trevor knelt before her, begging, "Don't leave me..." She only watched, her heart long turned cold.
He pleaded, "Please give me another chance, okay?"
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Chapter 7
Trevor spent the entire night looking for Elyse, dialing her number repeatedly, only to be met with the same result—her phone was switched off. By the time dawn broke, he gave up temporarily, returned home to clean up, and then went straight to the police station.
The moment he stepped into the office, his colleague, Clint Barton, looked at him with disbelief. "Captain Blake, did another department pull you into an operation once more? You look like you didn't sleep at all. Maybe you should head home and get some rest?"
Trevor simply tapped Clint on the shoulder, his voice quiet. "Bring me some coffee."
"Alright. Oh, by the way, a courier dropped something off for you this morning. It's an envelope. I placed it on your desk," Clint replied.
Trevor pinched the bridge of his nose and then gave a quiet nod. As he lowered himself into his chair, the envelope sat waiting at the center of his desk. He picked it up and tore it open.
The words "Divorce Agreement" leapt out at him, jarring enough to make his grip falter. The thin paper suddenly felt impossibly heavy, weighing down his hand.
Clint walked back in with the coffee and immediately noticed Trevor's darkened face. Following Trevor's line of sight, he caught sight of the document, and the bold title on it made him freeze in place. "Is your wife seriously trying to—"
Trevor shot him a chilling look that cut him off mid-sentence. Clint snapped his mouth shut, raising a hand to cover it.
Trevor then slipped the document out of sight.
Regaining some composure, Clint spoke more cautiously. "You wife is upset because of the raid that night? Did you not explain things clearly?"
"It's not like that," Trevor answered flatly.
Clint hesitated. "Then what—"
"Focus on your work. I'll deal with my personal issues myself," Trevor cut in.
Initially, Trevor believed he could resolve everything without much trouble. Elyse had always been easy to soothe. Even though she was asking for a divorce now, he assumed a sincere apology, a few gentle words, and a gift would be enough to win her back. What he hadn't anticipated was that he couldn't reach her at all after the agreement was delivered.
As someone who rarely paid attention to the entertainment industry, he now awkwardly searched online for any updates about Elyse. Throughout their marriage, he had shown little interest in her career. Now, his search turned up quite a few rumors about her supposed relationship with several male celebrities.
Anger surged within him. He couldn't help but suspect that her determination to leave him stemmed from the presence of another man. The instant that thought formed, unease gripped him.
...
A month later, headlines surfaced online reporting that Elyse had collapsed during filming.
As soon as Clint came across the news, he rushed to Trevor's office. Right as he knocked and stepped inside, Trevor's phone began to ring.
"Captain Blake, have you seen the news? Your wife—"
Before Clint could finish speaking, Trevor frowned and answered the call. "Which hospital? I'm coming now."
Clint assumed the call concerned Elyse, so he said nothing further and quietly stepped out.
As the door closed, Trevor's displeased voice echoed inside the office. "Joanna, I promised Shelton Graves I would take care of you until the baby is born. If you don't want to be a bother, then please take care of yourself."
After ending the call, Trevor left his office. Then, recalling Clint's earlier visit, he asked, "You were looking for me?"
Assuming Trevor was out for his wife, Clint shook his head lightly. "Send my regards to your wife."
Trevor paused briefly. It had already been a month since he last saw Elyse, and he wondered how she was doing.
Trevor hurried to the hospital. The moment he stepped out of his car, he spotted Elyse and Anthony in the parking area.
A surge of emotion filled Trevor—an entire month of suppressed longing burst out at once. He quickly walked over and pulled Elyse into his embrace. "Elyse... I've missed you so much!" he said, voice tight with emotions.
Elyse froze for a moment, caught off guard by his sudden appearance. Regaining her senses, she pushed him away firmly. "Trevor, let go! We're in a public place," she warned in a low tone.
Trevor loosened his grip, worry evident on his face. "Why are you here? Are you unwell? Why haven't you picked up my calls?"
The last question carried a subtle trace of complaint.
Elyse let out a bitter laugh at herself. For a brief moment, she actually thought he'd come after seeing the news about her. How naive. "Then what brings you here?" she asked flatly.
Trevor fell silent.
Her expression turned cold. She immediately understood—he was here for Joanna again.
At that moment, Anthony spoke with restraint. "Captain Blake, the news about Elyse collapsing on set is everywhere. It seems you're clueless about her fainting. Are you here for someone else? Do you have any idea that Elyse is already—"
"Anthony!" Elyse interrupted sharply.
Anthony's words struck Trevor hard. He genuinely didn't know about Elyse's collapse, and although he was here for Joanna, there was nothing inappropriate between them.
"Elyse..." Trevor reached for her hand, but she immediately avoided his touch.
"You got the divorce papers, didn't you?" Elyse said coolly. "Just sign them quickly so we can end this."
"I don't want a divorce. I swear there's nothing between Joanna and me. Please... trust me just this once," Trevor pleaded.
Seeing the sincerity in his eyes, Elyse almost wavered. But she couldn't ignore the contradictions. If there was nothing going on between them, why would he be helping Joanna shop for baby essentials and a maternity bag? And why had he looked so unsettled when she mentioned bumping into Joanna at the hospital? How was she supposed to trust him after all of this? His behavior clearly crossed lines, and Joanna's provocations were just as undeniable.
"Trevor, let's end this neatly," Elyse said, her tone flat.
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9.1
Waking up with a cold, scaly hand wrapped around my throat wasn't the worst part.
The worst part was realizing I'd transmigrated into the body of Terra Mason—the most despised woman in the entire Enclave. She drugged high-level beast-men and forced them into life-binding bio-contracts. She locked an aquatic warrior in a dry basement until his organs failed. She treated the most lethal males in the city like broken toys.
Zev, the Level 6 serpent who's currently choking me, would rather blow up his own heart than spend another day as my slave. His affection metric? Negative ninety. His trust? Zero.
Then my system activates: the Kore AI. It gives me exactly 500 credits, a medical nano-gel, and a recipe for neutralizing the radioactive poison in mutant meat. Real food. In this world, that's worth more than gold.
I save Rhys, the dying aquatic male everyone left for dead. I season a slab of purple mutant steak until Sam, a battle-scarred grizzly shifter, groans at the taste—and his trust points finally tick above zero. When my backstabbing ex-best friend tries to steal my males and destroy me, I don't scream or throw a tantrum like the old Terra. I dismantle her with the truth.
But earning their trust means more than grilling meat. A scorpion swarm ambushes us at midnight. Sam throws himself between me and a stinger the size of my arm. As he stands over the corpse, fur receding from his claws, he stares at me and whispers, "You were testing me."
Yes. I was. Because in this world, the weak don't survive. And I refuse to be weak again.
Four beast-men. Four contracts. One system. And a whole lot of steak. Let this dystopian wasteland know—I'm not the monster they remember. I'm worse. I'm the one who's going to feed them until they'd kill for me.
9.4
Michael Carter is an undercover FBI agent on a mission to take down ruthless mafia king Fernando Ramírez-the man he believes killed his sister. But getting close to Fernando means playing a dangerous game, one where seduction and power blur the lines between enemy and lover.
When Michael uncovers a shocking truth, his thirst for revenge turns into a fight for something far more dangerous-his own heart. Now, torn between duty and desire, he must decide: destroy the man he swore to take down or surrender to the one thing he never saw coming.
Love has never been more lethal.
7.5
I was the adopted daughter of the wealthy Ruiz family, but the moment their true heir appeared, I was thrown away like trash.
Not long after being kicked out, my adoptive father and uncle hired a hitman to stage a fatal car crash on Mulholland Drive.
Pinned under an overturned Porsche with a shattered leg, I watched the hitman point a suppressed pistol between my eyes.
"The Ruiz family sends their regards."
Before this, my reputation had already been completely destroyed by a director, a pop idol, and a reality TV star, leaving me blacklisted and universally hated.
My adoptive family didn't just want me ruined; they wanted me permanently silenced to tie up loose ends.
The hitman pulled the trigger, and the original Alicia died in despair, tasting only rain and blood.
Until her last breath, she didn't understand.
Why did the family she loved treat her like a disposable object? Why did those three men maliciously frame her and turn the world against her?
Opening my eyes again, the fear was gone, replaced by an ancient, cosmic indifference.
I, the Arbiter, had taken over this deceased vessel.
Moving faster than the human eye, I crushed the hitman's steel gun with my bare hand and turned his soul into dust.
Looking at the memories of those who wronged this girl, I signed a contract for the very reality show they were starring in.
Since I borrowed this body, taking out the trash is a required courtesy.
8.7
"You're leaving," Lorenzo said softly.
Ivy straightened her spine and raised her chin. "I am. I'm getting out of this place even if it means climbing over the front gates. I can't stay here anymore. I'm leaving!"
"You can't," Lorenzo said flatly. "Not now."
"Watch me," Ivy hissed, brushing past him.
Lorenzo stepped in her way and grabbed her by the arms-not roughly, but firmly.
"I mean it, Ivy. You can't leave," he said tightly.
She struggled against his grip, her bag falling to the floor with a thud.
"Let me go, Lorenzo! I don't belong here. This place is insane. Your family is insane!"
"You belong to me," he said sharply, eyes burning into hers. "And it's my job to protect what's mine."
"I don't want to be yours," Ivy cried. "I want to be free! I want to live!"
Something shifted in Lorenzo's face. He looked at her then, not as an obligation, not as a pawn, but as a person. A frightened, strong, beautiful woman who had been caught in a storm she never asked for. And something in him cracked.
Lorenzo reached down and cupped her face with both hands. Ivy flinched at first but didn't pull away. His thumbs wiped away the tears rolling down her cheeks.
"I never wanted to hurt you," he said quietly.
Her lower lip trembled. "Then let me go..."
"I can't," he whispered.
And then, without thinking, he leaned in and kissed her.
***************
Ivy Wesley believed that marrying a wealthy stranger would be her golden escape from a life of struggle. Lorenzo Martinelli was supposed to be her way out: her fresh start, her answer to every prayer whispered in the dark.
But the moment the mansion doors shut behind her, Ivy understood the truth. She hadn't stepped into a fairy tale. She had walked straight into the lion's den.
The whispers about the Martinelli family's ties to the Mafia aren't just rumors; they're real, and now Ivy is bound to them by a ring on her finger and secrets she can never unlearn. There is no undoing this choice. No clean exit. Not after what she's seen. Not after what she knows.
Surrounded by dangerous alliances, ruthless power plays, and truths sharp enough to draw blood, Ivy finds herself caught in a world where trust is a luxury and loyalty can be lethal. Yet in the middle of the chaos, something even more unexpected takes root: a love she never planned for, never prepared for, and may not survive.
Now Ivy faces an impossible choice: run while she still can, or stand her ground beside the man who could destroy her as easily as he protects her. In a world where betrayal lurks behind every polished smile and devotion can cost a life, can their love endure... or will it be the very thing that brings everything crashing down?
7.4
I was only fifteen when my venomous family orchestrated my doom by forcing me into an arranged marriage with mafia heir Javier Velasquez.
On our wedding night, Javier paraded strippers into our suite to show his absolute contempt, turning me into the ultimate joke of the underworld overnight.
But being a joke was a luxury compared to what came next.
Three years later, Javier needed to be a widower to marry into a heavily armed family and secure their backing for a coup.
He didn't grant me the mercy of a bullet.
Instead, he dragged me to an abandoned underground safehouse, locked me in the damp, rotting dark, and told the world I had been assassinated.
For six months, I starved in that dungeon, surviving only on the desperate hope that my family was safe.
Then, on the day of his lavish new wedding, a cruel maid kicked a plate of spoiled food onto my floor and delivered the final, fatal blow.
"Annabel is dead. Pined away and died of a broken heart two weeks ago."
My gentle mother was dead, all because she actually believed his lie about my tragic murder.
Driven by pure agony and an all-consuming hatred, I shattered crates of smuggled chemical solvents and struck a match, letting the roaring inferno turn their bloody wedding into my funeral pyre.
I thought the fire was the end.
But when I opened my eyes, the suffocating smoke vanished, replaced by the biting chill of a Long Island winter.
I was standing in the snow, back on the exact day my descent into hell began.
This time, the terrified girl was dead, and I would use their own ruthless rules to tear their empire apart.
9.0
I spent a year scrubbing floors in my fiancé’s club, hiding my identity as the daughter of the Capo dei Capi.
I needed to know if Connor Bishop was a King worth merging empires with, or just a puppet.
The answer came walking in wearing a neon pink dress.
Jaden Juarez, a civilian he was infatuated with, didn't just treat me like a servant; she deliberately poured scalding espresso over my hand because I refused to be her valet.
The pain was blinding, my skin blistering instantly.
I video-called Connor, showing him the burn, expecting him to enforce the code of our world.
Instead, seeing his investors watching, he panicked.
He chose to sacrifice me to save face.
"Get on your knees," he roared through the speaker. "Beg her pardon. Show her the respect she deserves."
He wanted the daughter of the most dangerous man on the East Coast to kneel to his mistress.
He thought he was showing strength.
He didn't realize he was looking at a woman who could burn his entire world to ash with a single phone call.
I didn't cry. I didn't beg.
I simply hung up the phone and locked the kitchen doors.
Then, I dialed the one number everyone in the underworld feared.
"Dad," I said, my voice cold as steel. "Code Black. Bring the papers."
"And send the wolves."