H.Flower

Framed. Disowned. Forgotten. Thira Calderon lost everything in one night-her reputation, her family, and the man she loved. Five years later, she returns to New York with three secretive little geniuses and a high-powered job at a billionaire's company. What she doesn't know? Her new boss, Riven Dax, might be the man she's spent years trying to forget. What her kids know? He might just be the dad they've been searching for. "He has Kai's eyes." "And Niko's ears." "Let's get proof," Elara whispers. "Real proof." And three kids determined to uncover the truth their mother's too afraid to ask.

Isla Carter's perfect life shattered the day she found her husband in bed with her best friend. Humiliated and discarded, she watched them marry just a month after her divorce, the world calling it true love while she was labeled a gold digger. Broken and betrayed, Isla vowed to rebuild her life-until Damien Blackwood walked in with a proposal she couldn't refuse. Marry me. Help me destroy them. Cold, ruthless, and untouchable, Damien isn't offering love-he's offering revenge. Isla knows she should say no. But when revenge is on the table, how could she resist? What begins as a game of vengeance soon becomes a dangerous dance of power, passion, and betrayal. Lines blur, feelings deepen, and just when Isla thinks she's finally won-she loses everything all over again. Three years later, Isla returns, armed with a secret that will change everything. This time, the war isn't just about revenge. It's about who really owns her heart.

Lyra Daniel, an aspiring fashion designer, is on a mission to save her sick husband, Felix Thomson. Lyra crosses paths with Dante Cooper, a billionaire heir in need of a contract wife to appease his meddling family. "I will give you $500,000 once we get married and $500,000 after the divorce is finalized," Lyra couldn't accept the deal because of her love for Felix. But when Felix finds out about the contract... "I swear to you, Lyra. I will never let you down. If you give me this second chance at life, then I promise you my life because..." Unknown to Lyra, Felix's plea is part of deception to escape their marriage. She soon finds herself trapped in Dante's world, where he and his family view her as nothing but a gold digger. Felix stopped responding to Lyra's call, knowing that there was a high possibility that Dante wouldn't pay the balance of the contract. He then reconciled with his family, leaving Lyra divorced, alone, and depressed. Dante finds out the truth, but it was too late. However, he refuses to give up on finding her. Years later, Lyra has transformed into a powerful, celebrated figure in the fashion industry. She has rebuilt her life, but the scars of betrayal run deep. Fate brings her back into the lives of both ex-husbands. Dante, now living in the same apartment building to escape his grandmother's matchmaking schemes. "That scent... it reminds me of someone I used to know," Meanwhile, Felix, driven by selfish motives, seeks to exploit Lyra again. "Lyra, we had something special. Let's not waste it," Will Lyra seize the opportunity for revenge? Or will the past pull her into deceit once more?

“What did you do to me?” She asked, taking labored breaths. “My injuries. They’re gone. How did you do that?” he asked. "Did I?” “I’m Rolf by the way. What should I call my savior?” She hesitated for a while giving him a hard look over. “Adele. You can call me Adele.” *** Adele woods, a woman with an extraordinary story and destiny she has no idea about until she saves a stranger who happened to be her mate. That led to her protection spell being broken and her long-hidden powers bursting out. Her powers drew the attention of the people of Harmony city and the king sent for her arrest. Rolf was left with no choice but to bring out his secret. To save the life of his mate, he has to show her his true form and escape with her to his pack until she is strong enough to return and uncover the secrets surrounding her birth. What will happen when Adele's best friend gets jealous of their relationship and tells the witch king about Adele's existence?

For five years, I abandoned my status as the heiress of the powerful Montgomery family to play the role of a poor, submissive housewife for Barrett. Then, a bank notification popped up on my phone. Barrett had forged my digital signature and transferred our entire $50 million joint trust fund to a woman named Crista Reid. When I called his boardroom to confront him, he humiliated me in front of a dozen Wall Street executives. "Stop acting like a hysterical housewife. You're living in a penthouse I pay for, so don't embarrass yourself." I broke into his encrypted laptop and uncovered the sickening truth. Crista was his mistress, and they had a five-year-old son together. Barrett hadn't just stolen my money; he had spent years painting me as a helpless charity case he rescued, completely erasing the fact that my financial models built his entire company. He thought I was just a discarded peasant he could manipulate, cheat on, and replace. He truly believed he held absolute power over my life. He had no idea that I still possessed the highest security clearance of the Montgomery empire. I pulled an old BlackBerry from a hidden wall compartment, plugged it in, and dialed my family's lawyer. "Draft the prenup for Commodore Clayton IV," I ordered, choosing to marry Wall Street's most ruthless predator. "I'm done playing the peasant."

For ten years, I was the perfect, obedient wife to my wealthy husband, managing his severe OCD and hosting flawless high-society parties. But on our tenth anniversary, when I brought him his special hangover soup, I caught him sleeping with my younger sister in our master bedroom. Instead of panicking, he coldly handed me divorce papers with zero assets. He told me I was just a "placeholder" until my sister finished her degree and was ready to take my spot. Desperate, I called my mother for help, only to find out she had known about their affair for years. "You don't have Jana's drive or her looks. You clean house and you cook. That's not a wife, that's a domestic." My own mother sneered at me, telling me to walk away quietly because our family needed his financial support. They kicked me out of the penthouse with nothing but a suitcase, laughing that a woman who hadn't worked in a decade would end up begging on the streets. I bled for this family for ten years, only to be thrown away like garbage when my sister wanted my life. But they didn't know that while I was playing the boring housewife, I had secretly earned a Cordon Bleu diploma, a Cornell nutrition certification, and a Columbia master's degree. Using a hidden photo to blackmail a property out of him, I packed my elite credentials and landed a $300,000-a-year job managing a billionaire's estate. When my ex-husband drunkenly called days later demanding I come back to serve him, I calmly hit block.

For two years, Clementine played the perfectly obedient wife to billionaire Donovan Bray, wearing his heavy diamonds and enduring his cold indifference. Until she accidentally saw his tablet and discovered she was just a "collateral asset"—a cheap lookalike prop hired to make his ex-girlfriend, Gisela, jealous. When Gisela returned to New York, Donovan's mask completely slipped. During a vicious argument where he mocked Clementine as a pathetic shadow, he grabbed her, causing her to fall down a flight of marble stairs. Waking up in the hospital, Clementine learned she had miscarried a six-week-old baby she didn't even know she had. But what truly shattered her was hearing Donovan's voice through the cracked hospital door. "It changes nothing." He coldly lied to his friend that the fall had caused permanent infertility. "It was probably for the best." He had killed her unborn child and casually dismissed her worth, truly believing she was a penniless nobody who would suffer his abuse in silence. He thought he held all the power, leaving her broken and discarded for his true love. What Donovan didn't know was that his fragile, dependent wife was secretly "C.", the billionaire genius behind Aurelian, the world's most exclusive luxury jewelry empire. Lying in the sterile room, Clementine dried her tears, filed for a ruthless divorce, and permanently froze his supplementary black card. It was time to show him who really held the strings.

To revenge herself on her unfaithful fiancé Kevin, Isidora hides her striking beauty behind a plain disguise, and targets his uncle - the most formidable man Kevin fears. After one reckless night, Isidora leaves cash as payment and says lightly, "You were good last night." She tries to leave quietly, but is pulled into his arms. "You think you can walk away after this?" he says, his tone low and possessive. Cedrick is a feared, untouchable titan on Wall Street - elegant, aloof, and completely uninterested in women. Not even the most beautiful socialites in the city can catch his eye. When gossip spreads that he was seen pressing a woman against a wall and kissing her fiercely, no one believes it. When the rumors name Isidora, the crowd scoffs. He rejects even the most beautiful women, so why would he notice a plain girl like her? All doubt disappears when they see the dignified Cedrick drop to one knee to help Isidora with her shoe, pleading softly for just one kiss. When Kevin finally sees Isidora's true beauty and begs for forgiveness. But Cedrick kicks him out at once, slams a marriage certificate on the table, and says sharply. "Call her Aunt."

I was Landon Mercer's secret girlfriend and loyal assistant for four years. I thought my absolute devotion would eventually win his heart. But he casually announced his engagement to a wealthy heiress, reminding me I was just a convenient nobody from an orphanage. When I got trapped in a horrific car crash and begged him to call an ambulance, he just hung up on me, annoyed that my bleeding was ruining his romantic getaway. He even blackmailed me with my orphanage's land lease, forcing me to attend his engagement party as a prop. At the party, his elite family and friends brutally humiliated me. They deliberately crushed my broken arm, poured red wine over my head, and kicked me into a freezing pond. When Landon finally pulled me out, he didn't care that I was suffocating and turning blue. "Are you out of your mind? You come out here and cause a scene during my engagement party?" He threw a stack of cash at my shivering body, furious that I had embarrassed him in front of his wealthy guests. Looking at the hundred-dollar bills floating in the muddy water, my four years of foolish love completely died. To him, I wasn't even human; I was just a cheap toy he could abuse and pass around. I didn't cry, and I didn't beg. I dragged my soaked, battered body into a car and headed straight to the penthouse of his biggest billionaire rival. It was time to burn Landon Mercer's world to the ground.

Kenzie, the former leader of the Aegis Alliance, opened her eyes to find herself reincarnated as a freezing, abandoned infant in a wet cardboard box. She was rescued from the rain by Devin Ayers, a ruthless billionaire, and rushed to a private hospital, but a deadly threat was already waiting for her. The ER doctor, Desiree Dillon, approached her with a syringe. Through a sudden burst of telepathy, Kenzie read the doctor's dark thoughts. Desiree wasn't trying to cure her fever. She deliberately ignored the safe dosage, drawing a lethal amount of Diazepam to permanently silence the crying baby and disguise it as sudden infant death. "This will make it all go away," Desiree smiled gently, the needle glinting as it moved inches from Kenzie's arm. Trapped in a weak, paralyzed three-month-old body, Kenzie couldn't run, fight, or even speak. She could only watch the poison inch closer. How could she survive death only to be assassinated in a hospital bed by a corrupt doctor? She used to command armies. The sheer injustice and terror of dying completely helpless in this tiny body ignited a blinding rage inside her. Refusing to be a victim again, Kenzie pushed her newborn brain to its absolute limit and unleashed a desperate telepathic scream directly into the billionaire's mind. "Poison! She's trying to kill me!" Devin, who had been looking away, suddenly froze, his icy gray eyes locking onto the doctor's wrist.

For three years, Ciara played the perfect, invisible protocol wife to billionaire Jordon Webb. But on the day she finally held a positive pregnancy test, he abandoned her mid-sentence to rush to the side of his ex-lover, Jasmine. Seeking answers, Ciara went to his Wall Street office, only to be publicly humiliated by his family. His cousin intentionally poured scalding espresso over her hand, leaving her skin blistered and raw. "She's a protocol wife. She knows her place. She's replaceable." Hearing Jordon's cold words to his friends shattered her. When he finally appeared, instead of defending his injured wife, he furiously scolded her for causing a scene and ruining his company's image. That night, while Jordon stayed at the hospital holding a perfectly fine Jasmine in his arms, Ciara was left completely alone in their dark, empty penthouse. A sudden, agonizing cramp ripped through her abdomen. She suffered a devastating miscarriage, bleeding out on the cold marble floor with no one to answer her cries. A decade of loving him had left her with a dead baby, a ruined hand, and absolute despair. Why did she have to lose her child while he fiercely protected the woman who mocked her existence? The next morning, her sorrow burned away into cold, hardened ash. Ciara signed the divorce papers, waiving all alimony, and left them behind. Jordon had no idea that his docile, charity-case wife was actually LUNA, the world-famous anonymous couture designer. She packed her bags, walked out of the penthouse, and prepared to take her life back.

Keely returned to her Manhattan penthouse a day early, expecting the loving billionaire husband who had just told her how much he missed her. Instead, the scent of cheap vanilla perfume led her to the guest room, where she found Haden tangled in the sheets with his timid, soft-spoken secretary. To the world, Haden was the flawless, devoted partner. He would even beat a man to a bloody pulp at a high-society gala just for insulting her, violently claiming he was protecting his wife. But behind his golden-retriever facade lay a narcissistic monster. While begging for her affection and making her breakfast, he was secretly draining their marital assets into offshore accounts in the Cayman Islands. Keely had to swallow her disgust, forcing a perfect smile as she played the clueless, dependent trophy wife he wanted her to be. It made her physically sick. She couldn't understand how the man who looked into the camera with eyes full of love just last night could be the same thief plotting to leave her with nothing. Was his violent, suffocating obsession with her just a sick cover for his betrayal? But Haden didn't know his "helpless" wife was actually the ruthless CTO of a tech empire. She had already hacked the home surveillance and traced the missing funds, ready to make him bleed. Then, her private investigator called with a medical report that pushed her revenge to the edge. "Mrs. Jones, Darlene Sutton is six weeks pregnant."

Cecile jolted awake from months of prescription haze, only to realize she was trapped in a live reality show designed to destroy her. Her billionaire husband had orchestrated the broadcast to publicly humiliate her and elevate his own PR image. He ordered her to follow a degrading script. What was worse, her five-year-old son, Damien, was genuinely terrified of her. When an empty wine bottle rolled across the floor, the tiny boy instantly threw his arms over his head, bracing for a hit. The production crew shoved microphones into the trembling child's face, trying to trigger his trauma for ratings. The live chat cursed Cecile as a toxic abuser. The show's golden girl maliciously tried to poach Damien on camera to prove Cecile was an unfit mother. The crew even rigged the game, forcing Cecile and her son into a freezing, rotting mud shack with a collapsed roof. They were all just waiting for her to break down and beg. "A toxic woman like you doesn't deserve to be a mother." The crew read the hateful comments aloud, expecting a hysterical meltdown. The realization that she had been manipulated into destroying her own child hit Cecile like a physical blow. How could a father subject his own son to this public cruelty? The weak, easily manipulated Cecile was dead. She threw the PR script away, rolled up her sleeves, and picked up a rusted hammer. This time, she would protect her son and tear down anyone who stood in her way.

For six years, I was the perfect, obedient wife to billionaire Hartwell Ware, enduring his coldness because I thought my love could eventually thaw his heart. Then, my friend sent me a photo. Hartwell was at the airport, tenderly holding the waist of his first love, Eveline Craig. He came home smelling of her synthetic rose perfume, accused me of stalking him, and coldly demanded a divorce. His lawyer handed me a thick settlement agreement. It offered astronomical alimony and luxury properties, but it came with a humiliating ten-page non-disclosure agreement. He wanted to buy my silence. He wanted to strip me of my rights to our son and gag me permanently, just so he could parade his new life with Eveline without any PR backlash. Even now, he still thought I was a gold digger who had orchestrated a media scandal to trap him into marriage. I stared at the man I had worshipped for two thousand days. My six years of desperate devotion had been nothing but a humiliating, one-sided delusion. Hope was finally dead, and with it, my tears had completely dried up. He expected me to cry, to beg, to negotiate for more millions. Instead, I snatched the pen, crossed out the massive alimony, and signed my name on the dotted line. "I am taking the basic child support, and not a single red cent more." Leaving my five-carat diamond ring on the marble table, I walked out the door with nothing but my old suitcase.