The Jilted Bride's Billion Dollar Revenge
On our wedding night, celebrating a billion-dollar family merger, my new husband Coleton stepped out of the shower.
Suddenly, his phone rang. It was his dead brother's widow, Hana, crying that her five-year-old had a fever.
Without hesitation, Coleton shoved me hard into the wall to get out the door.
"Are you seriously jealous of a sick five-year-old kid?" he spat.
He abandoned me in the bridal suite. I immediately filed for divorce and leaked it to the press.
To save the merger and their stock prices, both our families rushed in to force me to back down.
My own father raised his hand to slap me for my "petty female jealousy."
Coleton's grandfather brutally beat him with a heavy wooden cane right in front of me, trying to use a twisted debt of honor to guilt-trip me into staying.
Through a hidden dumbwaiter shaft, I overheard their secret meeting. They were plotting to use Coleton's bloody photos to paint me as a cold-hearted villain to the media, trapping me in the marriage through public shame.
My own brother nodded along to this plot just to secure his CEO bonus.
Coleton only begged for my forgiveness because he was terrified of losing his trust fund to an illegitimate heir.
In their eyes, my dignity was just a cheap commodity with a price tag.
But I am a Pennington, raised in a world where trust is a liability.
I calmly saved the audio recording of their plot, packed my Hermes suitcase, and emailed the most ruthless divorce litigator in Manhattan.
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Chapter 7
Coleton's body convulsed on the floor. He was gasping for air, his forehead pressed against the rug, sweat soaking his hair.
The heavy thwack of the blackwood cane echoed in the silent room, vibrating against the walls.
Jovani scrambled away from Katrina and crawled toward Adelbert. He grabbed his grandfather's pant leg. "Grandpa, stop! Please! He's had enough!"
Adelbert kicked Jovani away with a swift jerk of his leg. His cloudy eyes remained locked on Katrina, trying to force her to break.
Katrina sat in the velvet chair, her expression completely unreadable.
Delmus watched Coleton's breathing turn shallow. He realized the situation was spiraling out of control. If the Meyer heir was permanently crippled, the billion-dollar merger would collapse entirely.
Delmus stepped forward quickly. As Adelbert raised the cane for a sixth strike, Delmus reached out and grabbed the brass tip mid-air.
"That's enough, Adelbert," Delmus said, his voice heavy and serious. "Blood has been spilled. The insult is answered. If you break him, we both lose."
Adelbert let out a long, tense breath. He had been looking for a way out of the standoff. He slowly lowered the cane, pretending he was still furious.
He pointed the tip of the cane at Coleton's bleeding back. "You should thank your father-in-law for his mercy. I would have broken your legs."
Katrina let out a sharp, dismissive laugh. She stood up from the velvet chair, smoothing the non-existent wrinkles from her skirt.
"Delmus showed mercy," Katrina announced, her voice ringing clear and cold. "I didn't offer a single drop of pity."
She looked at her father. "You can stay here and play your fake family games with them. I am leaving."
She grabbed the handle of her suitcase and walked toward the double doors.
Brandin stepped in front of the doorway, blocking her path with his broad shoulders.
"You can't leave," Brandin warned, his voice dropping low. "Look out the window. The paparazzi are swarming the main gates."
Katrina frowned. She turned her head toward the large bay windows. In the distance, past the manicured lawns, she could see the rapid, blinding flashes of cameras lighting up the iron gates.
She quickly weighed her options. Walking out there alone with a suitcase at 3:00 AM would give the media the exact narrative Brandin wanted. She was physically trapped on the estate.
Katrina turned back around. She looked at the head butler. "Alistair. Prepare the guest room in the West Wing. The one furthest from here."
Alistair wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. He glanced at Adelbert, who gave a nearly invisible nod. "Right away, ma'am."
Katrina dragged her suitcase behind her. Her heels clicked sharply against the hardwood floor as she walked down the long, empty corridor. Her back was straight, her posture unyielding.
When she reached the West Wing room, she stepped inside, slammed the door in Alistair's face, and threw the heavy brass deadbolt with a loud click.
Back in the bridal suite, the suffocating tension broke the moment Katrina left.
The estate's private medical team rushed in. They began cutting away Coleton's ruined shirt to clean the bloody welts. The sharp smell of antiseptic filled the air.
Adelbert leaned on his cane. He scanned the room with cold eyes. He caught Rocco's attention and gestured toward the dark corner of the room.
Rocco stepped into the shadows, leaning down to hear the old man.
Adelbert lowered his voice to a harsh whisper. "Once the doctors patch him up, drag him down to the basement."
Rocco's eyes widened in shock. "Sir?"
"Take a leather whip," Adelbert ordered, his voice devoid of any human emotion. "Keep hitting him. Avoid the face and organs. Just break the skin."
Rocco swallowed hard. "But the girl left. The punishment is over."
"The injuries aren't severe enough," Adelbert hissed. "When the press takes his photo tomorrow, he needs to look like he barely survived. I will build a cage of public sympathy so strong, she will never be able to file those divorce papers."
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7.2
Betrayed by her sister. Killed by her husband.
Reborn, Sarah returns with one goal-revenge.
This time, she won't be the fool.
And with the Knox, the most dangerous man by her side...
she'll ruin them all, and take back everything that belongs to her.
Promotional line: They killed me once. This time, I'll destroy them first.
8.3
My husband watched as my skin melted, scalded by boiling soup, yet his hands were busy comforting my attacker. Five years of marriage, built on a foundation of my family's power, crumbled with a single, brutal act of betrayal. He bought me off with a penthouse and a trust fund, but I tore out my IV and threw his charity back in his face.
It was our fifth anniversary, but my husband, Ethan, remained distant, avoiding any talk of Chicago or the mafia protection my family once offered him. He then pushed a black velvet box across the table.
Inside was a Separation and Property Division Agreement, not a diamond. He told me to sign for Ilene's security, offering millions. When I refused, Ilene hurled boiling soup. Ethan shielded her, not me, as the scalding liquid melted my dress.
With second-degree burns, he blamed me, ordering me from our home for Ilene’s comfort. My family saved him, yet he sacrificed my body and marriage for another woman.
The love I felt turned to ash. What kind of debt demanded my flesh and marriage?
I ripped the IV from my arm, hurling his "charity" keys back. My diamond ring placed on the agreement, I walked away. From today on, Ethan, you and I are dead to each other.
9.2
Clara was drowning in student debt and barely making rent when she downloaded a fantasy mobile game to escape reality.
Inside the game, an exiled prince named Alex was freezing to death. Pitying him, she spent her last few dollars on microtransactions to fix his shelter and cure his poison.
But the game was far too real.
Every time she paid, the prince reacted. When she complained aloud about going broke, the in-game army suddenly halted, as if the prince had heard her voice.
Then, the terrifying real-world consequences hit.
Clara woke up to find her water glass and a box of Kleenex had vanished from her locked bedroom overnight.
She frantically searched the tiny apartment, her heart pounding in her chest.
She thought she was losing her mind. Had she thrown them out in her sleep? Was there a stalker hiding in her home?
How could physical objects just disappear into thin air behind a deadbolted door?
Until she looked at her nightstand.
Sitting exactly where her missing items used to be was a glowing, weightless crystal cup that defied all logic.
And on her laptop screen, the exiled prince was carefully holding her Kleenex box, offering a mountain of real gold on an altar.
She hadn't just downloaded a mobile game; she had opened a cross-dimensional trade route with a desperate future king.
8.3
EDEN
8.3
Elianila, an AI Architect, is part of an elite team tasked with designing a global system meant to prevent threats, manage disasters, and distribute resources to vulnerable regions. After five years of tireless work with her colleagues, she uncovers disturbing anomalies, code-named, X-variables, that flag individuals according to criteria she never programmed.
As Elianila digs deeper to understand what the X-variables measure and where their origin, she finds herself in direct conflict with the authorities. Soon, the System marks her and her daughter as threats - targets to be eliminated.
With a small band of colleagues and dissidents, Elianila goes on the run, hiding in places beyond the Systems reach. As they evade surveillance, they race against time to warn others, expose the truth, and fight back against the omnipresent authority of the System.
8.6
Today was my father's grand second wedding, but for me, it was the anniversary of my mother's death.
My new stepmother, Marley, who was only four years older than me, cornered me. To establish her dominance as the new Luna, she ordered her servants to force me to my knees and violently ripped my late mother's necklace from my neck.
It was the only memento my mother had left me. Marley sneered, threw it to the ground, and shattered the gems. When I scrambled to pick up the broken pieces, she dug her high-heeled shoe into the back of my hand, mocking me as dirty trash. No one stepped in to help. My father was too busy celebrating his new marriage under the dazzling lights, completely erasing my mother's memory and leaving me to be abused in my own pack.
My heart was full of grievance and despair. Why did my mother's lifelong devotion end with her grave desolate and her daughter humiliated? I swore I would never become a weak, discarded she-wolf whose life depended on a man.
Desperate to escape the suffocating wedding, I ran outside and stumbled right into the chest of a terrifying stranger.
"No one should ever touch what is precious to you."
His golden eyes blazed with fury as sparks instantly shot through my veins. He was Kade Blackwood, the ruthless Alpha of the feared Blood Moon Pack—and my fated mate.
9.7
Gemma expected the tearing agony of the bullet wound that had just ended her life.
Instead, her trembling fingers met the cool, smooth friction of heavy silk.
She stared into the mirror. Her face was flawless, completely devoid of the jagged scar that had marred her cheek for the last five years.
It was exactly ten years ago. The day of her engagement party to the ruthless billionaire, Brion Hubbard.
In her past life, her "best friend" Katelyn convinced her to run away with a scheming scumbag.
Katelyn claimed Brion was a heartless tyrant who would ruin her. Gemma had foolishly believed those fake tears.
That choice led to her family's bankruptcy, her brutal disfigurement, and ultimately, a fatal bomb explosion.
The only person who tried to save her was Brion, his blood-soaked body shielding hers from the blast.
She even realized too late that the strawberry cream cakes she always made for him were full of dairy.
He wasn't leaving to cheat on her. He was locking himself in a medical bay, fighting fatal allergic shock, just to accept a tiny scrap of her affection.
Gemma had been so incredibly blind. Why did she trust the venomous snakes who destroyed her, while hating the man who died for her?
Hearing Katelyn frantically knocking on the dressing room door, urging her to run away again, a towering hatred surged through Gemma's veins.
This time, she wasn't going to run.
She was going to expose the traitors, take back her family's wealth, and claim the tyrant for herself.