ABBYO

One stolen keycard. One midnight break-in. One mistake that blows everything up. Clara knows her brother's staring down a ten-million-dollar fraud charge and it's all on her to fix it. So she sneaks into the lion's den: Sebastian Vance's penthouse, smack in the heart of Wall Street. He's brutal. Untouchable. Her only shot is to find the evidence and get out fast. She doesn't even make it ten feet before Sebastian catches her in the act. But he doesn't call the cops. He's got something else in mind a twisted deal she can't refuse. Turns out, his board wants him married off to someone squeaky clean. Clara is basically perfect: no high-profile family, nothing to lose, and apparently she looks just right on his arm. Here's the bargain: Clara pretends to be hopelessly in love with Sebastian, wears his ring, sells their engagement to the world and in exchange, her brother walks free. Slip up, and she's facing federal prison, no questions asked. Now she's trapped in a world dripping with money and dread caught between his ice-cold demands and the heat that's growing between them. Every move feels like walking a tightrope. And as danger closes in from all sides, Clara starts to realize the real threat isn't the criminals closing in... It's the man she's supposed to hate but can't stop wanting.

He's a killer with ice in his veins. She's a tech genius who brings chaos wherever she goes. Their marriage? It started as a complete sham but the danger they're in is suddenly very real. Vespera Vance is a billionaire tech heiress, but when her family tries to marry her off to a ninety year-old tycoon, she does what anyone desperate would: she fakes who she is, disappears in baggy sweaters, and takes the most anonymous job she can find a graveyard-shift nobody. Everything goes smooth until one night, she ends up in the basement and spots the new night security guard calmly taking down two armed attackers, all while munching on a turkey sandwich. Lysander Thorne is no guard. He's the legendary Don of the Thorne Syndicate, lying low in his own company to hunt a traitor. He's used to people freezing in fear. What he isn't used to is Vespera: a whirlwind in crooked glasses who barges into his sting operation, flails a plastic broom, trips over her shoes, and knocks herself out right against his chest. Vespera needs a new, clean legal identity to keep her greedy family from touching her fortune. She makes Lysander (who she believes is a broke rent-a-cop drowning in debt) an offer: marry her for six months, she'll clear what he "owes," and he'll never buy a deli sandwich again. Lysander, oddly entertained and in need of a solid civilian disguise, agrees and signs on. Now Vespera's out here leaving receipts for eighty-dollar honey like a sugar mom in their shoebox apartment. Lysander, meanwhile, is secretly sending his massive, terrifying underboss to deliver luxury espresso machines under the excuse of being a local bookie. But things get ugly. Her family finds her, and this time, they're not sending lawyers they're sending elite mercenaries ready to drag her home by force. The silly game's over, and Lysander drops the act. Vespera is about to learn her bumbling roommate doesn't just keep the night shift safe. He rules the shadows and letting his wild, unpredictable wife go isn't on the table. Not now, not ever.

Terminally ill. Betrayed by her husband. Abandoned by the only family she had. Ariel died with nothing... and no one. But fate gives her a second chance. Reborn three years before her death, she walks away from the man who ruined her life-and takes back everything they stole. Her love. Her identity. Her power. Now, the cold billionaire who once ignored her can't take his eyes off her. The brother who abandoned her starts to regret. Too late. Because this time, Ariel isn't the woman who begs. She's the one who makes them kneel.

He married her to control her. To break her. To own her. Seraphina let him believe it. She plays the quiet wife- soft voice, lowered eyes, perfect obedience. But behind every smile... is a plan he was never meant to survive. Because this marriage was never about love. Not even power. It was revenge. And when Lucien finally uncovers the truth- when he realizes who she really is... he won't be fighting to keep her. He'll be begging to escape her.

"I married him to save my mother... but my husband already owned my past." Cold. Ruthless. Untouchable. He gave me three rules: No emotions. No questions. Stay out of his private wing. I should have listened. Because nothing about this marriage is normal. The staff whisper when I pass. My name makes people freeze. And my husband watches me like I'm a problem he hasn't solved yet. Like he's waiting... For me to remember. I thought I was trapped in a contract. But the truth? I was chosen. And when I finally break his rules, I find a photo that changes everything Me. From years ago. In his possession. "You knew me... before you married me." And the way he looks at me tells me one thing This isn't where my story begins. It's where it comes back to life.

She was taken. He was never supposed to need her. Freya's world shatters the night she is thrust into a life she doesn't understand. A life ruled by power, by silence... and by a man who doesn't believe in mercy. Torren is cold. Untouchable. Dangerous. A man who breaks without trying. But Freya doesn't break. She watches. She learns. She fights in ways he doesn't see coming. And that's when it all changes. What begins as control becomes something darker- obsession, tension, a pull they can't ignore. But the more Freya digs, the more horrifying the truth becomes. Her past isn't missing... It was erased. And the man who has her captive? He knows so much more than he's ever let on. As secrets unravel, and betrayal looms, Freya realizes she was never a pawn in his game- She was the catalyst for its beginning. And when the truth finally breaks her... She will not run. She will rise. Because the most dangerous entity in this world isn't the man who owns it... It's the woman who was born to claim it.

She was betrayed. Forsaken. Branded a scorned wife. Lola Hart's world shattered the day her husband turned his back on her, leaving her to face heartbreak, deceit, and a life she never imagined. But pain became power. Betrayal became strategy. And the woman they thought broken is now a force they can't control. Rising from the ashes, Lola fights to reclaim her empire, protect the people she loves, and destroy the enemies who think they can stand in her way. From the glittering boardrooms to shadowed streets, from secret alliances to explosive betrayals, every move Lola makes is calculated-and every heartbeat brings her closer to the love she never dared to hope for. Adrian, her protector, her ally, and the man who refuses to let her fall, stands by her side. But in a world of wealth, power, and vengeance, can love survive when danger lurks in every corner? Secrets. Lies. Revenge. Passion. This is her story. This is the rise of the wife he regretted losing.

For three years, Avery Woods lived a lie. Trapped in a high-stakes psychological "simulation" designed by her own father, she was forced to endure the life of a discarded trophy wife, scrubbing floors and suffering in silence to temper her mind into a weapon. When the simulation shattered, Avery emerged as the Sovereign-the most experienced CEO in human history, having lived twenty years of strategic warfare in a matter of months. She tore down her father's global conglomerate, erased the world's digital memories, and sought a quiet life in the shadows. But you cannot delete a god. Now, a year after the "Great Erasure," the world has gone dark, but the connection remains. Four hundred million people are syncing up through a biological "Chorus," using their own neural pathways to rebuild a decentralized, inescapable Hive Mind. At its center is Mila, a child who is more code than flesh, and the only anchor strong enough to stabilize a new reality. From the high-tech bunkers of Moscow to the hallucination-filled "Dead Zone" of the Sahara, Avery and her protector-assassin, Julian Vane, must race to stop the Chorus before it rewrites the physical world. The satellites are dead. The servers are gone. But the Silence is screaming.

I was the President's Old Lady - and the only reason his MC was still breathing. For three years, I ran every legal business the Serpents of Redemption owned. While Craig chased road glory across state lines, I turned a failing auto shop and a tattoo parlor into the money that kept the brothers fed, the bikes fueled, and the clubhouse lights on. Then he rode home from a two-month run with a sweetbutt on the back of his Harley - and her son. Ginger, he said, had saved his life on the road. So he put her in the main residence, in the room directly across from our bed. He handed her my ledgers and called it repayment. When her son dumped a cup of scalding coffee over my hand, Craig never checked my burns. He scooped up the boy and blamed me. His grandmother - the club's Matriarch - stood before every patched brother and accused me of hurting "family." That night, Craig told me Ginger held a place in his heart I could never reach. A debt of blood he'd honor above me. Three years. My family's fortune. My scarred hand. All of it - worthless next to his roadside savior. So I did the one thing a President never expects his Old Lady to do. I gave back his patch. Now they can keep their empty ledgers. They can play happy family in a clubhouse I built. And when this motorcycle club burns - I'll be the one holding the match.

Chloe had just given birth to twins, lying exhausted in a cramped, bustling hospital ward. When she called her husband, Julian, he was busy partying with his actress mistress. He coldly hung up on her, having already drafted a brutal divorce agreement that would leave her with a pittance. Strangers in the next bed loudly mocked her pitiful state, gossiping about how Julian was dumping her. For years, Chloe had erased her own identity to fit into his elite world, only to be thrown away like garbage. She was completely alone, clutching her helpless babies, bracing herself to sign the cruel papers just to survive. She couldn't understand why her absolute devotion was met with such chilling indifference. Why did she have to suffer this ultimate humiliation while he celebrated with the woman who ruined her life? But then, a senior doctor noticed a unique mole on her wrist and ran a secret DNA test. The results were staggering: Chloe was the long-lost daughter of the billionaire Beaumont family. With her fiercely protective parents and three powerful brothers suddenly forming an impenetrable fortress around her, Chloe picked up her phone and texted her arrogant husband. "City Hall tomorrow at 10 AM. If you don't show up, my lawyer will handle everything. And trust me, you won't like their terms."

Five years ago, I stood in the freezing rain at my mother's funeral, waiting for my husband. Blake Knight, the billionaire NHL superstar, was two hours late. When he finally showed up, he brought his rumored girlfriend, the woman he had just rented a hotel rooftop for to celebrate her birthday. Watching him defend her fake tears, my heart completely died. I took off my diamond wedding ring, placed it on my mother's headstone, and walked away from my marriage forever. I fled to London, changed my name to Ava, and secretly raised the triplets he never knew existed. I thought I was finally safe from him. But today, my kids vandalized a silver Aston Martin in our apartment's parking garage, and the owner caught my youngest daughter. My phone rang. The voice on the other end was Blake's. He had moved into my building, and he was holding my little girl in his penthouse, demanding her mother come get her immediately. Panic suffocated me. If I walked through that door, my five years of hiding would be instantly destroyed. He would recognize me, realize I didn't get rid of our child like everyone thought, and he would use all his power to take my babies away. I couldn't let him ruin my life again. "I'm just her nanny," I lied through my teeth. I frantically begged my best friend to go upstairs and rescue my daughter in my place. He bought the disguise, but now, the King of the Ice is dangerously obsessed with investigating my new identity.

My controlling mother forced me on another blind date with an arrogant lawyer, but an emergency call from my clinic saved me. I rushed back to find the waiting room filled with massive, tattooed men in leather cuts. They were the Serpents of Retribution MC, and their ruthless President, Knight, locked his ice-blue eyes on me, ordering me to be the sole nurse for his injured man. Trouble quickly followed. A fake doctor took me hostage at gunpoint, trying to get revenge on Knight. We tumbled down a concrete stairwell, and Knight used his own body as a human shield to save my life. But the aftermath destroyed my world. My boss threatened to fire me. My mother screamed at me for walking out on the lawyer, caring more about my "stable future" than the fact I almost died. I thought I had hit rock bottom, until Knight tracked me down. He didn't ask for my consent. He dragged me to his clubhouse, pinned me down, and had his club's serpent emblem permanently tattooed onto my shoulder blade. "From now on, you're my Old Lady." He marked me as his property, leaving me trapped between a suffocating family and a dangerous biker boss. Staring at the black brand in the mirror, I realized I couldn't be a passive victim anymore. I drove to my parents' house, pulled down my collar to show them the serpent, and finally severed ties with my past.

My stepmother’s bodyguards were seconds away from dragging me back to a life that was essentially a prison cell wrapped in silk. I couldn't even scream for help because the words always died in my throat—a clinical condition called selective mutism that felt like drowning on dry land. I had just discovered the sickening truth: my father was planning to sell me to a sleazy investor named Sterling to cover his company’s bankruptcy. They were going to drug me, ship me off to a private island, and strip away the only thing I had left—my late mother’s multimillion-dollar art trust. When I arrived at the manor, my stepmother Lydia handed me a glass of wine laced with bitter sedatives, her smile sharp as a razor. "Drink up, darling. It’ll make the transition to Mr. Sterling much easier." My stepsister Harper stood in the corner, wearing a dress bought with my mother’s stolen money, mocking my inability to speak. My father didn't even look me in the eye as he calculated my price tag, treating his own daughter like a piece of damaged, mute inventory. They thought because I didn't speak, I didn't hear them laughing about the "accident" that killed my mother or how they planned to burn her final restoration work. They assumed my silence was a sign of surrender, a white flag waved by a broken girl who would never fight back. How could the people who were supposed to be my family treat me like a commodity to be traded? Did they really think my silence meant I was weak, or that I didn't know every dirty secret they were hiding in their ledgers? I didn't drink the wine. Instead, I burst into the VIP suite of Carlisle Pierce, the most cold-blooded billionaire in New York, and slammed a crumpled napkin on his table with a desperate, last-second gambit. "MARRY ME. NOW. $1 MILLION."

She married him out of desperation, becoming the perfect docile wife while he treated her like dirt beneath his shoes. But everything shattered the night she overheard him mocking her with his friends-and discovered the necklace she'd cherished, her only link to the boy who once saved her life, didn't even belong to him. It was all a lie. No longer the doormat he married, she discards her fake identity and reclaims her birthright as the hidden heiress of Salvadore City. Now she's on a mission: find the necklace's true owner among his circle of friends, no matter how many hearts she has to break along the way. But her husband isn't ready to let go. Convinced she's playing games to make him jealous, he's blindsided when divorce papers land in his hands. By the time he realizes the woman he dismissed was never who he thought she was, she's already moved on-living her truth, chasing her destiny, and leaving him choking on regret. Some cages, once opened, can never be closed again.

I was an intern nurse working exhausting shifts, yet my mother constantly forced me into blind dates with wealthy, arrogant men to secure our family's social standing. During a terrifying hospital lockdown, an assassin disguised as a doctor held a scalpel to my throat. I was almost killed, but a high-ranking military colonel threw his own body down a flight of concrete stairs to shield me. I survived with cuts and bruises, but when I went home, my mother didn't care about my near-death experience. She was only furious that I had rushed out on my blind date with Preston, a rich financial analyst. She forced me to meet him to apologize. When Preston grabbed my arm, bruised me, and mocked my attack as a pathetic lie, my mother still took his side. "Men get angry," she told me coldly. "It's your job not to provoke them. You will beg for his forgiveness, or you are no longer welcome in this house." I had narrowly escaped an assassin, yet my own family was willing to feed me to a monster just for a fat paycheck and neighborhood gossip. My heart went completely dead. So, when the intimidating Colonel appeared, offering me maximum military protection through a sudden marriage, I didn't hesitate. I walked back into my parents' house and calmly slapped a crisp marriage certificate onto the coffee table. "I won't be apologizing to Preston. I got married today."

After six years away, I returned to my hometown with a single suitcase and a picture of my fiancé tangled up with my stepsister. I thought it was just a simple, disgusting betrayal, but when I planted a bug in their private suite to get a confession, I heard a truth that froze my blood. My fiancé, Leo, laughed about how my own father had already signed over my mother's legacy—The Nightingale Ranch—as collateral to his powerful family. "Once this is all done, Claire will have nothing. And the woman you marry will be me," my stepsister Jenna cheered. Leo cooed back, calling me a stray dog he'd kick to the curb once he was bored, a worthless woman who couldn't even hold onto her family's land. My family had sold me out, and the man I loved was planning to leave me with absolutely nothing. I didn't cry. The pain burned away into a cold, hard hate. How could my own father conspire with them to destroy the only thing I had left of my mother? I crashed their prestigious charity auction and played their filthy recording over the speakers for the entire town to hear. But when Leo charged at me in a murderous rage, a wall of leather and muscle stepped in front of me. Kade "Chaos" Peterson, the terrifying President of the rival motorcycle club, crushed Leo's wrist and announced to the stunned room, "She's with me now."

I was in the hospital, enduring the agonizing pain of labor, while my husband, a famous hockey captain, refused to show up. When I called him for the twelfth time, begging for him, he lost his patience. "Giving birth is a woman's job, don't bother me with this stuff." Then, I heard my stepsister's sweet voice offering him a drink, and he immediately softened before hanging up on me. I gave birth to twins all by myself. The nurses treated me with cold indifference, and the family in the next bed loudly mocked me as a pathetic "Puck Bunny" who was just an adopted orphan about to be dumped. They were right. A month ago, my husband had thrown divorce papers at me, demanding I make way because my stepsister was pregnant with his child. I thought my life was a joke. I was just a discarded prop he married to satisfy his grandfather, a fake daughter my adoptive parents only used to elevate my stepsister. I was completely alone, ready to sign the papers just to protect my two babies. But then, the head of the hospital rushed in, transferred me to the top-floor VIP suite, and handed me a DNA test. It turned out I wasn't an unwanted orphan, but the long-lost daughter of the ultra-wealthy Sinclair family who had been searching for me for twenty years. Looking at my billionaire parents and three powerful brothers who just flew in on their private jets to protect me, I picked up my phone to call my arrogant husband. This time, I was going to make him leave with nothing.

As I lay on the floor of our manor, bleeding out from a ruptured ectopic pregnancy, I used my last ounce of strength to call my husband, Cole. I begged him for help, my vision blurring. But the only thing I heard was the clinking of champagne glasses and his mistress's giggle in the background. "Stop the drama, June," Cole snapped, his voice cold. "We're about to go on stage. Don't call again." He hung up, leaving me to die alone on the Persian rug while he accepted an award with another woman on his arm. I woke up in the hospital days later. My baby was gone. They had removed my fallopian tube. Cole finally arrived, smelling of expensive scotch and his mistress's perfume. He didn't hug me. He didn't cry. Instead, he leaned over my hospital bed, pressing his knee into the mattress until my fresh stitches tore open and bled. "You embarrassed me by calling an ambulance," he hissed. "My mistress, Alycia, says you're faking it. Clean yourself up." He left me bleeding again to go announce a $10 million donation to Alycia's "groundbreaking" medical research. I stared at the TV screen, numb. The research Alycia was taking credit for? It was mine. I wrote that patent years ago under a pseudonym. They thought I was just a poor, orphan housewife who needed Cole's money to survive. They had no idea I was actually a billionaire scientist hiding my identity. I pulled the IV needle out of my arm. A drop of blood fell onto the divorce papers I had been hiding. I didn't wipe it off. I signed my name right over it. Then I walked into the bank, reactivated my dormant account with $128 million, and bought the penthouse directly overlooking Cole's house. The mourning widow is dead. The avenger is born.