The Priceless Wife He Threw Away

For two years, I hid my lethal past as a top-tier Delta Force operator to play the perfect, submissive wife to Kason. But on the eve of the absolute deadline to claim my parents' ashes, he forced me out of our car into a freezing rainstorm. He had received a frantic call from his mistress crying over her missing dog. "Are you seriously using dead people to compete for my attention?" Kason sneered. He slapped my phone away, hurled my bag with my classified military ID into a muddy ditch, and left me stranded on the highway. I knelt in the freezing mud as his luxury car sped away. I had swallowed his mother's insults and secretly saved his company from bankruptcy three times. Yet, to him, my parents' remains were just a box of dust compared to his mistress's pet. The suffocating pain in my chest suddenly evaporated, replaced by a terrifying, absolute zero coldness. The pathetic, submissive wife he thought he owned died on that highway. I walked to a dingy motel, washed the gritty mud from my face, and traced the jagged scar on my collarbone. I picked up the landline and dialed a twelve-digit encrypted number to the Pentagon. It was time to wake up the ghost operator and burn Kason's world to the ground.

Chapters

Chapter 2

The morning air at Joint Base Andrews was crisp and biting.

Allison pulled her rental sedan up to the heavily fortified main gate. She wore a sharply tailored black suit, her hair pulled back into a severe, flawless knot.

Two military police officers, armed with M4 rifles, stepped into the path of the vehicle.

"Identification, ma'am," the taller MP demanded.

Allison rolled down the window. She handed over a solid black card embedded with a holographic watermark.

The MP swiped it through his handheld scanner. The screen instantly flashed a soft, pulsing blue light-the universal Department of Defense signal for ALFA-1 level clearance.

Both officers stiffened. Their boots snapped together as they delivered a razor-sharp salute.

"Clear to proceed, ma'am," the MP said, his voice tight with respect.

The heavy steel barricades rolled back. Allison drove onto the restricted tarmac, parking in the designated VIP zone.

A sleek, unmarked C-37B military VIP transport plane descended from the gray sky. The deafening roar of its engines vibrated through the soles of Allison's shoes as it touched down.

The rear cargo ramp lowered slowly. A fully armed honor guard marched down the ramp in perfect synchronization.

General Vance, a man with two silver stars on his shoulders, walked briskly toward Allison. His face was carved from stone, his eyes heavy with grief.

He stopped two feet in front of her and snapped to attention. In his hands, he held two perfectly folded American flags.

"On behalf of a grateful nation," General Vance said, his voice carrying over the wind.

Allison took the flags. The rough texture of the fabric scraped against her palms. Her throat tightened so painfully she could barely swallow.

Four soldiers stepped out of the aircraft. They carried two black velvet-draped urns with agonizing care.

The base loudspeakers clicked on. The haunting, mournful notes of "Taps" echoed across the empty tarmac.

Allison tilted her head back. She forced her jaw to lock, refusing to let a single tear fall and disrespect the gravity of this moment.

General Vance stepped closer, lowering his voice. "They were the best CIA operatives we had. And you were the best operator Delta ever saw, Ghost. The Pentagon wants you back."

"Ghost died with this marriage, General," Allison replied, her voice flat.

Vance sighed. He pulled a classified transfer manifest from his coat and handed her a pen.

Allison didn't hesitate. She signed her maiden name, Kramer, pressing the ink hard into the paper.

The soldiers carefully secured the urns in the backseat of her rental car.

Allison turned to the General. She delivered a flawless, razor-sharp salute, then opened her car door.

As she slid into the driver's seat, her newly purchased, unregistered temporary phone vibrated violently in her purse.

The screen flashed an unknown local number.

Allison stared at it for three seconds before hitting accept.

"Where the hell are you?" Kason's voice exploded through the speaker. "The caterers are here, and you aren't home to prep the dinner party!"

Allison looked in the rearview mirror at the two velvet-draped urns.

"If you get your ass back here right now and start cooking," Kason continued, his tone dripping with arrogant charity, "I'll pretend last night didn't happen."

A dark, humorless smile touched the corners of Allison's mouth.

She didn't say a single word. She pressed the red button, powered the phone down, and tossed it into the passenger seat.

She shifted the car into drive and headed toward the Lindsay estate in Long Island.

The scenery blurred past her windows. Her mind flashed with images of the past two years. Ironing his shirts. Swallowing his mother's insults. Hiding her lethal skills to play the perfect, boring wife he claimed he wanted.

Two hours later, the rental car pulled up to the towering wrought-iron gates of the Lindsay estate.

The security guard in the booth frowned at the cheap sedan. He stepped out, ready to shout, until he saw Allison behind the wheel.

His lip curled into a visible sneer as he hit the gate release button.

Allison parked near the massive marble fountain. She turned off the engine and took a slow, deep breath.

She opened the back door, gathered the two heavy urns into her arms, and walked toward the carved oak doors of the mansion.

Continue to next part

Grace, after three years of silence from a crash that stole her voice and family, finally uttered a hoarse syllable. It was her first sound, a breakthrough she desperately wanted to share with Josiah, her childhood protector. Instead, through a slightly ajar door, she heard his careless chuckle, followed by a sharp, entitled voice. Alexandria's voice sliced through the air: "Josiah, are you really planning to bring that little mute to the banquet? She's a walking trailer park tragedy. It's embarrassing." Grace froze, waiting for Josiah to defend her. He didn't. Instead, he sighed, calling her "a responsibility" and "a lifeless ghost," then pulled Alexandria closer. The words were serrated blades. Her silent devotion, her self-erasure for his peace, had made her a punchline. He was relieved she was broken. The bitter realization of his betrayal ignited a cold, white-hot fury. Wiping away tears, Grace met Josiah, feigning her usual submissive smile, and quietly refused his "hush money." As he walked away without a glance, her inner voice was clear, sharp, and resolute: "I'm done playing your game."

Horror Modern Mystery

8.3

Blackwood Academy

8.3

When Eli is forced to enroll at Blackwood Academy, he thinks it is just another remote boarding school. But on his first night, he realizes the terrifying truth. This school is a prison. Trapped in endless, deadly time loops, students are forced to complete cruel, supernatural trials. Ghosts, cursed hallways, hidden rules, and unspeakable creatures hunt them after dark. The only way to stay alive is to solve mysteries, earn credits, and obey the academy's twisted commands. No one remembers how they arrived. No one has ever graduated. No one leaves alive. Eli must team up with other desperate students to uncover the academy's century-old secret. If they fail, they will be trapped in the nightmare forever. At Blackwood Academy, survival is the only exam.

Fantasy Horror Young Adult

9.7

Fated To The Cursed And Tainted Alpha

9.7

Some chains are forged in iron. Others in desire. Sebastian Kol has existed for six centuries. Cursed to burn alive in his own skin every night he transforms into a beast even he cannot control. He wants one thing. Freedom. And after five centuries of searching, a prophecy finally gives it a name. Leilani Ravenwood. She carries the mark of the moon goddess on her skin and a prophecy that brands her as his salvation. Her blood silences his beast, and her touch sets him on fire. In the worst possible way. And in the best possible way. Furious at the hold she has over him, Sebastian takes her, strips her of everything, and bends her world until it breaks, determined to own what the goddess dared to use against him. What follows is dark and consuming. A monster who has never met his match, and a woman who proves to be it. But Leilani Ravenwood does not break easily. And somewhere between the hatred and the hunger, the punishment and the pull, the ancient beast begins to suspect the terrible truth. The woman born to be his salvation may already be his undoing, his poison and cure wearing the same skin. And he is running out of reasons to care.

Fantasy Horror Werewolf

8.8

His World Crumbling To Dust

8.8

My husband thought I was just a docile wife, easily controlled. He didn't know I'd spent five years meticulously dismantling his life. Tonight, his world would finally crumble into dust. For five years, I endured Jackson's entitled demands and his family's greed, silently funding their lavish life in our Beverly Hills mansion. My illusion shattered finding his mistress Amber's lingerie in his suitcase. My attorney just severed all financial ties, making Jackson's arrogant demands hollow. I tossed my diamond ring into the trash, summoning an industrial compactor. Jackson, his mother, and mistress watched in horror as their designer luggage, bought with my money, was crushed, turning their lavish trip into garbage. A cold, dead smile marked my cathartic release from five years of betrayal. How could they be so blind to the woman they dismissed? Stepping into an armored Maybach, I left them in chaos. My iPad confirmed Jackson's credit cards freezing. This wasn't just divorce; it was a calculated demolition, making their pampered lives very real.

Horror Modern Romance

9.2

Reborn As The Cold Villain's Daughter

9.2

I woke up suffocating in the dark, only to find my mind trapped inside a tiny, plump, and entirely uncoordinated body. A cold, mechanical voice echoed in my brain, announcing that I was dead in my original world and had transmigrated into a corporate revenge novel as the six-month-old illegitimate daughter of Edward McClure, the story's ruthless villain. The system mercilessly outlined my doomed fate. Tonight, my cold-blooded father would abandon me to a state orphanage. By age two, he would officially sign my rights away, leaving me to die miserably at the hands of human traffickers. Outside my nursery, I could hear his terrifying footsteps approaching, his voice devoid of any human warmth as he debated throwing me out like garbage. I was completely helpless, trapped in a baby's body, staring up at a man who looked at me with pure, visceral disgust. Why did I have to be reborn as the tragic cannon fodder of a tyrant destined to put a bullet in his own head? How was I supposed to win over a severe germaphobe when my unequipped infant reflexes made me literally pee and vomit all over his pristine Tom Ford suits? "Your ultimate mission is to prevent Edward McClure's self-destruction. Step one: Survive tonight's abandonment crisis." Hearing the system's terrifying ultimatum, I swallowed my adult panic, forced a pool of pitiful tears into my large eyes, and reached my chubby little hands toward the monster.

Adventure Fantasy Horror

7.6

Sheltered By The Coldhearted Billionaire Boss

7.6

Overnight, Ella lost her family, her home, and her entire life. Discarded by the foster system, she was left shivering in the freezing mud outside her ruined estate. That was when Javier Shepherd appeared. The terrifyingly cold, powerful billionaire pulled her from the dirt, threw her into a massive glass penthouse, handed her an unlimited black card, and vanished overseas, leaving her in the hands of a cruel caretaker. The caretaker treated Ella like garbage, feeding her cheap, processed meals while using the black card to buy designer bags. The toxic food triggered a severe allergic reaction. Ella collapsed in the dark hallway, her throat swelling shut, gasping for air while the caretaker locked the door and turned up the TV. She almost died on that cold hardwood floor. When Javier found out, he ruthlessly destroyed the caretaker and sent her to prison. He guarded Ella's hospital bed with terrifying intensity and even moved into her apartment to stop her panic attacks. Yet, when Ella finally broke down crying over her dead parents, his eyes turned to ice. "Losing emotional control over a juvenile past is an inefficient waste of energy." He sneered, treating her grief like a bad financial investment. Ella was completely bewildered. Why did this dangerous man protect her so fiercely, yet hate her past so deeply? It wasn't until his cousin visited the hospital that the cruel truth was revealed. Javier wasn't saving her out of kindness. He had been obsessed with Ella's mother—his family's adopted daughter who ran away years ago. To him, Ella wasn't a person to be loved. She was just a replacement asset, a ghost of the woman he never got over.

Billionaire Horror Modern

The Priceless Wife He Threw Away

Chapter 2

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