REGINA SIMONDS

I was the "fallen princess" of New York, living in a charcoal silk cage while paying off my father’s millions in debt with my own body. My owner was Braxton Kensington, a man who looked at me with the same cold interest he gave a fluctuating stock graph. One morning, a New York Times alert shattered the silence: Braxton was getting engaged to a billionaire socialite in the merger of the decade. When I demanded my freedom and the five-million-dollar severance promised in our contract, he just smirked and pointed to the fine print. "In a court of law, an engagement is just an intention," he whispered, gripping my chin until it bruised. "Until I sign that marriage license, you belong to me." He flicked a black AmEx at my feet like I was a tragic charity case, ordering me to buy a dress for his engagement gala. To save my dying mother from eviction, I took a secret translation job, only to realize my client was his new fiancée, Caroline. She dragged me to Braxton’s office to humiliate me, and after he hid me in a secret room to avoid a scandal, he branded me a "security risk" and froze every cent I had. I stood in a CVS with my last sixty dollars, swallowing a Plan B pill dry while watching a news report about Braxton demolishing my family’s last legacy. He didn't just want my body; he wanted to erase my entire existence and leave me with nothing. The cruelty was breathtaking, but Braxton forgot that a woman with nothing left to lose is the most dangerous player in the game. I reached out to the only man he truly feared—his billionaire half-brother and the boy whose heart I broke years ago, Ansel Neal. "Coffee isn't enough," Ansel replied to my message in seconds. "Dinner. Our old spot. 8 PM." As I walked into the club to meet Braxton's greatest rival, I knew the game wasn't over. I was just changing the rules.

On the day I was supposed to marry Giovanni Moretti, he publicly declared I was his brother’s girl. He called off our wedding at the last minute. His ex, Sofia, had amnesia after a car crash, her memory reset to a time when they were still deeply in love. So he cast me aside in my wedding dress to play the part of her devoted boyfriend. For a month, I was forced to live as a "guest" in the Moretti estate, watching him dote on her and rebuild their past, all while promising he would marry me as soon as she recovered. Then I overheard the truth. Giovanni had the cure for her amnesia locked away in his safe. He wasn't trapped. He was indulging, savoring a second chance with the love of his life. He was confident I was his property, that I would simply wait until he was done. He told his men he could have us both. He used his brother's name to humiliate me. Fine. I would use his brother's name to destroy him. I walked into the office of the true power in the family, Don Domenico Moretti. "Your brother said I am your companion," I told him. "Let's make it real. Marry me."

Something was wrong with Olivia. Small things at first: a new perfume, hidden texts, glossy shopping bags from stores we couldn' t afford. Then, during a video call from my business trip, the camera shifted, and I saw a men' s watch on her nightstand. A big, silver one. It wasn' t mine. Her smile snapped, her eyes darted away, and she stammered, calling it a "surprise" before disconnecting. When she texted an hour later, full of false cheer, I noticed new, expensive diamond earrings that I hadn' t bought. She claimed my sister, Sarah, had given them to her "ages ago." Her stories fell apart under the slightest probe. She was a terrible liar, her panic barely concealed by forced smiles. My gut screamed, but I clung to hope. But the cheap, plastic keychain she gave me as her "surprise" upon my return, while her brand-new designer handbag sat on the counter, next to the memory of that expensive watch, shattered any illusions. I became withdrawn, playing the broken husband. Yet, when I "forgot" my wallet and returned home, I heard Olivia whisper to Sarah about "Mr. Davies" and a deal. My sister, my own flesh and blood, had sold my wife to her boss for a promotion. The realization was a physical blow. My wife, my sister-they had betrayed me in the most heinous way imaginable. They thought I was an idiot, a clueless fool. But the game had just begun.

I thought our 10th anniversary party was the night Ethan, my musician boyfriend of ten years, would finally propose. Ten years I'd dedicated to supporting his dreams, putting his ambitions above my own, quietly funding our life. But instead of a ring, he abandoned the party for his ex-girlfriend, Molly, only to post a cringeworthy picture later that night on Instagram. It was him and Molly, her head on his shoulder, holding up a sonogram with a caption: "Starting a new chapter. Sometimes the most beautiful songs are the ones you come back to." The humiliation was instant, public, and absolute. The next morning, Molly called me from HIS phone, chirping about him making her breakfast, and Ethan scoffed at my pain, calling me "needy" for being upset he announced a baby with his ex on our anniversary. He even had the audacity to keep Molly hidden in my luxury downtown condo, the one he deemed "blood money" unfit for his artistic integrity, demanding I cook for them when I confronted him there. How could the man I loved, the partner I had built a life with, treat me with such utter contempt and cruelty, forcing me into this grotesque spectacle in my own home? That's when I picked up the phone, not to argue, not to beg, but to call my father's legal team and serve them both with an immediate eviction.

Six years ago, my best friend Chloe and I made a pact: escape our dead-end town and conquer the world. We thrived. My husband, Alex, was Governor, and Chloe, pregnant and radiating joy, celebrated at his inaugural ball. This was our victory, our grand triumph. Then, a gunman appeared. Chloe, without a second' s thought, shielded me, taking the bullet meant for my chest. She collapsed, a crimson stain blooming on her white gown. As my world narrowed to her fading life, I saw my husband, Alex, not looking at us, but instinctively shielding another woman: Jessica Davenport, his high school sweetheart. He chose her. In that moment of terror, he protected his ghost from the past, not his wife. Chloe whispered of a "reset" clause, a way back she'd hidden, before taking her last breath. My sister, my other half, gone because she protected me, while my husband protected someone else. Rage, cold and hard, festered inside me. But then, a cryptic message arrived: Failsafe activated. Chloe' s final directive. It led to a vast, hidden network – private investigators, data miners, offshore accounts. Chloe had given me a weapon. She wanted a reset, to go back to a forgotten past. But going back meant they would all get away with it. Alex. Ethan. Jessica. Instead, I decided to burn their entire world to the ground.

I spent forty years as Amelia Dubois, the devoted wife to Senator Julian Vance, raising our twins and smiling for the cameras. I truly believed I had it all. Then, on my deathbed at sixty, a devastating truth shattered my world: a secret prenuptial agreement with another woman, a hidden family, and my children declared illegitimate heirs. My devoted life was nothing but a convenient cover story, dismissed by Julian as an "unfortunate loose end" as I slipped away. Rage burned through my fading spirit, a fire so hot it could tear the world apart. And then, I woke up, sticky and disgusted, twenty years old, beside the man who would ruin my life. Not this time.

My lake trip with Ethan, my fiancé and a rising finance star, was supposed to be our last pre-wedding hurrah. I' d meticulously packed for two, my suitcase sitting beside his, ready for our perfect getaway. Then Chloe, the estate manager's daughter my family oddly favored, pulled up with her child, claiming Ethan had invited them. Without a glance, Ethan shooed me out of the car, promising to return after dropping them off at the resort an hour away. The humiliation burned as I watched him drive away, Chloe smugly waving from the passenger seat. Hours later, my phone buzzed with Chloe' s Instagram stories: Ethan laughing, steering a speedboat, his arm casually around her shoulder in a sunset photo. They were celebrating lake life while I was abandoned. When I confronted him, my own mother and brother, Liam, sided with Chloe, accusing me of just being "jealous" and "dramatic." The final blow came on my birthday. Ethan gifted me a beautiful diamond necklace, only for Chloe to reveal she had an identical one, saying Ethan got it for her as a "thank you" for helping him choose mine. It wasn't just betrayal; it was a brazen insult, confirming I was nothing but an afterthought, discarded by my fiancé and dismissed by my family. But in that moment, pain sharpened into an unyielding clarity. I wouldn't wait anymore, not for anyone. I blocked Ethan, then secretly packed a single bag, leaving my engagement ring and the mocking necklace behind. My gilded cage was about to open as I boarded a bus, bound for a new life, far from the Hawthornes and their suffocating expectations.

For eight long years, a dull ache lived in my heart. I' d endured six stillbirths, each a crushing blow. My husband, Mark, always seemed supportive, telling me we' d get through it. Desperate for him to be a father, I even hired his ex, Chloe, as a surrogate. Their son, Miles, had just been born. Then, at the hospital, a simple blood donation for my niece Amelia shattered my world. My brother-in-law, Robert, panicked. Trembling, he confessed: "Lily is your first baby, Sarah. The one you were told was stillborn eight years ago. Mark… Mark gave her to us." My first daughter, alive. Stolen. When I confronted Mark, he gaslit me, calling it "compassion" for his childless siblings. His family begged me not to "destroy" Lily' s life. Chloe, now living with Mark, subtly undermined me. Mark dismissed my pain, giving me an ultimatum: leave if I couldn't be "reasonable." He watched me grieve through six "stillbirths." His family systematically stole every single one of our babies. The man I loved betrayed me in the most monstrous way. My entire life, built on his lies, disintegrated. A cold, burning rage ignited within me. His cruel ultimatum didn't break me; it forged me. I wouldn't be reasonable. I wouldn't calm down. I grabbed my phone, dialing my lawyer. I was going to fight for my children – plural.

My life with Ethan seemed perfect, a carefully constructed dream built over years of quiet happiness. I believed in our future, our unwavering love. But then, his high school sweetheart, Jessica, died in a tragic accident. Weeks later, the chilling discovery of Ethan's suicide note: "Jessica was the only one. I can't live without her." My world didn't just crumble; it exploded into a million shards of brutal betrayal. Our entire marriage was a meticulously crafted lie, a painful performance. I was nothing but a stand-in, a convenient placeholder for the woman he truly loved. Every shared smile, every whispered promise, now felt like a cruel deception. The agony of that realization was a physical blow. Eight years, wasted. My heart was ripped open, not just by loss, but by the acidic burn of profound humiliation and the sickening injustice of being so utterly used and discarded. How could I have been so tragically wrong about everything? Then I woke up, gasping, back in my college dorm room, feeling the same nausea, seeing the same too-bright sunshine. My phone buzzed. A text from Ethan: "Sarah, we need to talk. It's about Jessica. I think I'm still in love with her. We can't do this anymore." The exact same words. But this time, my tears were gone. This time, I finally knew how to change my story.

Our podcast, "City Girls Hustle," was finally hitting its stride, a dream built with my best friend, Sarah. We celebrated big deals, our chemistry charming listeners. Then, Kevin entered. My new, ambitious boyfriend, immediately eyeing our success, suggested he could "take us to the next level" – with him in control. Sarah felt an instant unease. His charm turned venomous. He isolated me, whispering doubts about Sarah, orchestrating a humiliating public stunt, then meticulously destroying our podcast. Numb, I watched Sarah, my rock, forced out, leaving me burdened and hollow. Kevin’s grip tightened, his emotional and financial abuse escalating until one night, his rage, his shove, led to an agonizing loss: our baby. Yet, his cruelty knew no bounds. Kevin posted a tearful video, blaming Sarah for my miscarriage and suing me for emotional distress! He twisted his monstrous actions into my crime. How could a person be so utterly depraved? That video, however, shattered my numbness. A cold, clear rage ignited. He had taken everything. Now he wanted my truth. No more. My hands shaking, I opened my laptop, ready to expose him. Then, I called Sarah. The real story was about to drop.

Era spent her eighteenth birthday on a night out drinking with a perfect stranger. What she woke up to the following morning, however, was a sharp knife pointed at her. Fortunately, she managed to run away in one piece. But just when she thought she could finally breathe a sigh of relief, she was kicked out of the house by her own father. Now, without a family she could turn to, she made such a bold decision—have a baby of her own. She hoped to have a fancy chance encounter at a party to turn her dream into reality. Yet, by some twist of fate, she came across that strange man once more. And this time, she had no way to run away from him.

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!"

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."

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.

For seventeen years, I was the pride of the Carlisle family, the perfect daughter destined to inherit an empire. But that life ended the moment a DNA report slid across my father’s mahogany desk. The paper proved I was a stranger. Vanessa, the girl sobbing in the corner, was the real biological daughter they had been searching for. "You need to leave. Tonight. Before the press gets wind of this. Before the stock prices dip." My father’s voice was as cold as flint. My mother wouldn't even look at me, staring out the window at the gardens as if I were already a ghost. Just like that, I was erased. I left behind the Birkin bags and the diamonds, throwing my Centurion Card into a crystal bowl with a clatter that echoed like a gunshot. I walked out into the cold night and climbed into a rusted Ford Taurus driven by a man I had never met—my biological father. I went from a mansion to a fourth-floor walk-up in Queens that smelled of laundry detergent and struggle. My new siblings looked at me with a mix of fear and disgust, waiting for the "fallen princess" to break. They expected me to beg for my old life back, to crumble without the luxury I’d known since birth. But they didn't know the truth. I had spent years training in a shark tank, honing survival skills they couldn't imagine. While Richard Carlisle froze my trust funds to starve me out, my net worth was climbing by millions on an encrypted trading app. They thought they were throwing me to the wolves. They didn't realize they were just letting me off my leash. As the Carlisles prepared to debut Vanessa at the Manhattan Arts Gala, I was already making my move. "Get dressed. We're going to a party."

Kathryn was the true daughter, but Jolene stole her life and set her up for ruin. After a brutal kidnapping scheme, Kathryn's loyalty to her brothers and fiancé was met with cruel betrayal. Narrowly escaping, she chose to cut all ties and never forgive them. Then she shocked the world: the miracle doctor for the elite, a top-tier hacker, a financial mastermind, and now the untouchable star her family could only watch from afar. Her brothers begged, her parents pleaded, her ex wanted her back-Kathryn exposed them all. The world gasped as the richest man confessed his love for her.