Johan Gorski

For three years, I was married to a lie. The man I loved, the man whose name I carried, wasn't my husband. He was his identical twin brother. The truth shattered my perfect life on our anniversary. My real husband, Elliot, had swapped places with his volatile twin, Killian, all so he could be with another woman without the mess of a divorce. I was just a placeholder in their cruel game. Elliot stood by as his lover burned my hand, while Killian wore his face, whispering promises he never meant. But the final blow came when I found Killian's phone. In a group chat, he called me a "prize" he'd won from his brother, promising his friends they could have me once he was bored. That's when my heartbreak turned to ice. I filed for divorce, took everything the pre-nup promised, and fled to London. I thought I was free, but now they've followed me, determined to reclaim their favorite toy.

My fiancé has a twin brother. For the past year, the man I' ve shared a bed with wasn't my fiancé at all. I discovered the man I loved was just an actor, a stand-in. My real fiancé, Brandon, was secretly married to his adopted sister, Caryl. But their plan was far more sinister than just swapping places. They were going to let me marry the twin, then stage an "accident" to harvest my corneas for Caryl. When I discovered their plot, Caryl framed me for attacking her. Brandon, the man who swore to protect me, had me whipped until I was bleeding on the floor. Then she murdered his grandfather and blamed me. He didn't hesitate. He threw me into a psychiatric hospital to rot. He never once questioned her lies. He simply discarded me, the woman he claimed to love for five years. But they forgot one thing. I wasn't just Farah Moore, a helpless orphan. I am Aurora Valois, heiress to an empire. After being rescued from that hell, I faked my death and disappeared. Now, I'm back to start a new life, and this time, I'm living for myself.

I was Kennedy Hall, the rebellious journalist of a political dynasty. My only escape was a secret, passionate affair with Elliot Solis, a powerful CEO carved from ice and logic. He called me his "beautiful disaster," a storm contained within the walls of his penthouse. But our affair was built on a lie. I discovered he was only "taming" me as a favor to another woman, Camille-the fragile daughter of my father's chief of staff, to whom he owed an unpayable debt. He publicly chose her over me, wiping her tears with a tenderness he never showed me. He protected her, defended her, and when I was cornered by a predator, he abandoned me to rush to her side. The ultimate betrayal came when he had me thrown in jail and beaten, hissing that I needed to "learn my lesson." The final blow came during a car crash. Without a second's hesitation, he threw himself in front of Camille, shielding her with his body and leaving me to face the impact alone. I wasn't his love; I was a liability he was willing to sacrifice. Lying broken in a hospital bed, I finally understood. I wasn't his beautiful disaster; I was his fool. So I did the only thing I could. I burned his perfect world to the ground, accepted a marriage proposal from a kind billionaire who promised me peace, and walked away to start a new life, leaving the ashes of our love behind.

The day they buried my four-year-old son, Leo, killed by a hit-and-run, the driver, Karyn Morse, showed up at his grave. She smiled, dropped Leo' s favorite toy into his open casket, and called him a "clumsy little thing." My husband, District Attorney David Blair, the city' s pillar of strength, stood by, silent. I, an investigative journalist, knew I' d find justice. I had the evidence, the witness, a Pulitzer-winning track record. But Karyn Morse was different. The judge, beholden to her powerful father, dismissed everything. She walked free. Then, the bailiff called my name. "Eva Benton, you are under arrest." My own husband, Leo' s father, prosecuted me for criminal negligence. He twisted my grief, my frantic search for truth, into a paranoid obsession. My best friend, Cheri, testified against me, claiming I was unstable. The jury found me guilty. Three years in a maximum-security prison. For being a grieving mother. For losing my son. I lost another child in prison, a secret I buried deep. Why? Why did he do it? Why did he betray me? The day I was released, I found him at Leo' s grave, with Karyn and their son. "Daddy, can we go get ice cream now?" Karyn cooed, "We have to say hi to your brother." My world shattered. He hadn' t just framed me; he had replaced me. He had replaced our son. "Worried?" he said, when Karyn asked about me. "Why would I be? She' s nothing to me now." The thread snapped. I called Cheri. "I need your help, Cheri."

The call came at 7:05 PM on our tenth wedding anniversary. My husband, David, was in an accident. At the hospital, he was awake, but a young woman, his assistant Chloe, was holding his hand, acting like his wife. When I walked in, he looked at me, a blank stranger' s stare, then asked, "Who are you?" He laughed when I said I was his wife, then demanded security remove me, while Chloe, smiling, pretended to cry. It wasn't just memory loss; it was a cruel, targeted erasure. I tried proof, the marriage certificate, but he pushed it away as "just a piece of paper." Then Chloe waltzed in with his favorite soup, and he defended her when I confronted her. "She' s the only one who' s been here for me!" he screamed. He snarled that I was "exhausted, haggard," compared to Chloe, who was "kind and gentle." My wedding ring, a symbol of our forever, flew from my hand as he slapped it away, clinking under the bed. "Don' t come back," he said, turning his back on me to comfort Chloe. Later, I learned why: he had been having an affair with Chloe, his mother's 65th birthday ruined by his absence and her answering his phone. My world shattered when Mark Johnson, David's estranged best friend, told me what David said: "The fake amnesia was a stroke of genius, right? A clean break." My husband had faked a brain injury to throw me away. A car hit me, sending me to the hospital, and I knew what I had to do. When Mark came in, I looked at him, my face blank, then asked, "Are you… my husband?"

I knelt on one knee, velvet box in hand, ready to propose to the woman I loved, a rising star in the theater world. But instead of a yes, her cold voice cut through the silence: "I'm in love with someone else." Instantly, her aunt, Nicole Johns, stepped from the wings, claiming she'd harbored a crush on me for years, and married me within a month. Five years later, severely burned in a pyrotechnics "accident," I overheard Nicole, my wife, discussing my fate with the doctor. She ordered my healthy skin be given to her lover, the very man my ex-fiancée left me for, Matthew Blakely, for a cosmetic procedure. "For Ethan," she hissed, "use the experimental synthetic skin. It's cheaper." Then, unbelievably, she tried to have me sterilized while I was unconscious, revealing she'd aborted our children because they were an "inconvenient" distraction from her affair with Matthew. The "accident" and their fabricated story of my jealousy were all a setup. I later learned the deepest horror: she had staged Matthew's "attack" to steal my kidney, which he openly gloated about right after receiving it. They had a secret, sinister plan for my body. My world shattered beyond repair. I finally called my family' s ranch in Texas, ready to fight for my life.

I was just a 20-year-old NYU art history student, interning at my dad’s real estate firm. But my world privately revolved around Marcus Thorne—my father’s handsome, brilliant business partner. My crush on him was pure, all-consuming, utterly naive. He’d always been so kind, a true gentleman. At a charity gala, I watched Izzy Vance, Marcus’s associate, subtly ply him with drinks. When I tried to help him to his suite, Izzy "found" us, her perfectly timed gasp and a discreet phone flash sealing my fate. The next morning, headlines screamed: "NYU Intern Olivia Chen Caught in Compromising Position with Marcus Thorne." Blurry, damning photos accompanied them. Marcus’s icy call followed: "Izzy found you taking advantage of me! My reputation is in shreds because of your childish stunt!" He believed her. Completely. Whispers and hostile stares at my father’s office became unbearable. The kind man I’d adored now looked at me with absolute disgust. My dreams shattered. How could he be so blind? So cruel? This wasn't the Marcus I knew. This felt brutally unfair. That week, the naive girl who worshipped him died. In her place, a colder awareness dawned: the world was not kind, people not what they seemed. He thought I was playing games, but I was done. This was my turning point.

I posted my beautiful photos online. Someone commented below calling me a scammer. I thought it was a joke to get my attention, but when I came back, my social media was exploding. Hundreds of people were mentioning and messaging me to return their money. I was confused and when I checked the comments, there were already hundreds of them calling me a scammer. Someone even explained the situation and got a lot of likes: "This handsome guy and beautiful girl were in an online relationship and got scammed for 8500 yuan."

Elliana, the unfavored "ugly duckling" of her family, was humiliated by her stepsister, Paige, who everyone admired. Paige, engaged to the CEO Cole, was the perfect woman-until Cole married Elliana on the day of the wedding. Shocked, everyone wondered why he chose the "ugly" woman. As they waited for her to be cast aside, Elliana stunned everyone by revealing her true identity: a miracle healer, financial mogul, appraisal prodigy, and AI genius. When her mistreatment became known, Cole revealed Elliana's stunning, makeup-free photo, sending shockwaves through the media. "My wife doesn't need anyone's approval."

"Stella once savored Marc's devotion, yet his covert cruelty cut deep. She torched their wedding portrait at his feet while he sent flirty messages to his mistress. With her chest tight and eyes blazing, Stella delivered a sharp slap. Then she deleted her identity, signed onto a classified research mission, vanished without a trace, and left him a hidden bombshell. On launch day she vanished; that same dawn Marc's empire crumbled. All he unearthed was her death certificate, and he shattered. When they met again, a gala spotlighted Stella beside a tycoon. Marc begged. With a smirk, she said, ""Out of your league, darling."

For three quiet, patient years, Christina kept house, only to be coldly discarded by the man she once trusted. Instead, he paraded a new lover, making her the punchline of every town joke. Liberated, she honed her long-ignored gifts, astonishing the town with triumph after gleaming triumph. Upon discovering she'd been a treasure all along, her ex-husband's regret drove him to pursue her. "Honey, let's get back together!" With a cold smirk, Christina spat, "Fuck off." A silken-suited mogul slipped an arm around her waist. "She's married to me now. Guards, get him the hell out of here!"

Sunlit hours found their affection glimmering, while moonlit nights ignited reckless desire. But when Brandon learned his beloved might last only half a year, he coolly handed Millie divorce papers, murmuring, "This is all for appearances; we'll get married again once she's calmed down." Millie, spine straight and cheeks dry, felt her pulse go hollow. The sham split grew permanent; she quietly ended their unborn child and stepped into a new beginning. Brandon unraveled, his car tearing down the street, unwilling to let go of the woman he'd discarded, pleading for her to look back just once.

After five years of playing the perfect daughter, Rylie was exposed as a stand-in. Her fiancé bolted, friends scattered, and her adoptive brothers shoved her out, telling her to grovel back to her real family. Done with humiliation, she swore to claw back what was hers. Shock followed: her birth family ruled the town's wealth. Overnight, she became their precious girl. The boardroom brother canceled meetings, the genius brother ditched his lab, the musician brother postponed a tour. As those who spurned her begged forgiveness, Admiral Brad Morgan calmly declared, "She's already taken."

In their previous lives, Gracie married Theo. Outwardly, they were the perfect academic couple, but privately, she became nothing more than a stepping stone for his ambition, and met a tragic end. Her younger sister Ellie wed Brayden, only to be abandoned for his true love, left alone and disgraced. This time, both sisters were reborn. Ellie rushed to marry Theo, chasing the success Gracie once had-unaware she was repeating the same heartbreak. Gracie instead entered a contract marriage with Brayden. But when danger struck, he defended her fiercely. Could fate finally rewrite their tragic endings?

Maia grew up a pampered heiress-until the real daughter returned and framed her, sending Maia to prison with help from her fiancé and family. Four years later, free and married to Chris, a notorious outcast, everyone assumed Maia was finished. They soon discovered she was secretly a famed jeweler, elite hacker, celebrity chef, and top game designer. As her former family begged for help, Chris smiled calmly. "Honey, let's go home." Only then did Maia realize her "useless" husband was a legendary tycoon who'd adored her from the start.

Linsey was stood up by her groom to run off with another woman. Furious, she grabbed a random stranger and declared, "Let's get married!" She had acted on impulse, realizing too late that her new husband was the notorious rascal, Collin. The public laughed at her, and even her runaway ex offered to reconcile. But Linsey scoffed at him. "My husband and I are very much in love!" Everyone thought she was delusional. Then Collin was revealed to be the richest man in the world. In front of everyone, he got down on one knee and held up a stunning diamond ring. "I look forward to our forever, honey."

The whispers said that out of bitter jealousy, Hadley shoved Eric's beloved down the stairs, robbing the unborn child of life. To avenge, Eric forced Hadley abroad and completely cut her off. Years later, she reemerged, and they felt like strangers. When they met again, she was the nightclub's star, with men ready to pay fortunes just to glimpse her elusive performance. Unable to contain himself, Eric blocked her path, asking, "Is this truly how you earn a living now? Why not come back to me?" Hadley's lips curved faintly. "If you’re eager to see me, you’d better join the queue, darling."

Blinded in a crash, Cary was rejected by every socialite—except Evelina, who married him without hesitation. Three years later, he regained his sight and ended their marriage. "We’ve already lost so many years. I won’t let her waste another one on me." Evelina signed the divorce papers without a word. Everyone mocked her fall—until they discovered that the miracle doctor, jewelry mogul, stock genius, top hacker, and the President's true daughter… were all her. When Cary came crawling back, a ruthless tycoon had him kicked out. "She's my wife now. Get lost."