/1/103397/coverbig.jpg?v=a4689dfa7dab02ec5637728d03d5e6ed)
I spent three years playing the mousy, supportive wife to tech mogul Julian Vanderbilt, fixing his code and hiding my past as an elite special ops captain. Everything shattered at our anniversary gala when I saw my mother's heirloom emerald necklace hanging around the neck of Julian's mistress. When I confronted him, Julian didn't even look up from his drink, telling me to stop being "territorial" because I was too plain to wear such jewelry anyway. The humiliation peaked when he refused to attend my parents' military repatriation the next morning, choosing an investor brunch with his mistress instead. I stood in our penthouse watching him dote on her, realizing I had used my parents' death benefits to build a throne for a man who treated me like disposable trash. I couldn't understand how the man I had quietly saved from a burning yacht years ago could be so blind to the warrior standing right in front of him. He had no idea that the very empire he bragged about was built entirely on my technology and my sacrifice. I didn't argue; I simply went to the safe and pulled out my black beret and my high-level security credentials. As I revoked his admin access and watched his billion-dollar world begin to glitch, I walked out to meet the military honor guard. It was time to remind Julian Vanderbilt exactly who he had married-and exactly how much it was going to cost him to lose me.
Contents
Chapter 1 No.1
The emerald lay against her throat like a bruise.
It was a deep, vibrant green, the color of old moss and envy, suspended on a platinum chain that caught the recessed lighting of the penthouse living room. I knew that stone. I knew the weight of it. I knew the specific imperfection on the back of the setting, a tiny scratch made by my father's pocketknife the day he gave it to my mother before his second deployment.
"It brings out your eyes, Seraphina," Julian said.
His voice was a low hum, a sound that used to vibrate against my own chest in the dark. Now, it was directed entirely at the woman sitting on the velvet ottoman, her chin tilted up, exposing the long, pale column of her neck.
I stood in the shadow of the hallway, my hand gripping the cold plaster of the wall. My fingers were numb. Not the kind of numbness that comes from cold, but the kind that comes from a lack of blood flow, as if my heart had simply decided it was too tired to pump all the way to the extremities.
Seraphina Frost laughed. It was a practiced sound, light and airy, designed to make men feel witty and powerful. She touched the stone with a manicured fingertip.
"It's exquisite, Julian," she cooed. "Are you sure? It looks... heavy with history."
"It was just gathering dust in a safe," Julian said, his back to me. He adjusted the clasp at the nape of her neck, his fingers lingering on her skin. "It deserves to be worn by someone who shines."
My stomach contracted, a violent, physical spasm that nearly bent me double. That necklace wasn't gathering dust. It was the only thing I had brought into this marriage. It was the only thing I had left of Mary Sterling, the woman who had stitched wounds in a burning tent in Aleppo while shrapnel rained down.
I stepped out of the shadows.
"Julian."
The name tasted like ash.
He didn't startle. He turned slowly, his expression shifting from adoration to a weary annoyance that hit me harder than a slap. It was the look one gives a persistent solicitor or a dog that won't stop whining.
"Jade," he said. "I didn't hear you come in. We're busy."
"That necklace," I said. My voice was steady, too steady. It was the voice of a soldier reporting a casualty count. "It's my mother's."
Seraphina turned, her eyes wide with a feigned innocence that made my teeth ache. "Oh! Jade. I didn't know. Julian said it was a family heirloom."
"It is," I said, walking further into the room. The carpet swallowed the sound of my footsteps. "My family. Not the Vanderbilts."
Julian sighed, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair. "Don't start this, Jade. Not tonight. We have the gala tomorrow. Seraphina needs something to wear that matches the brand image. You know you don't wear jewelry like this. You'd just... look awkward."
"Awkward," I repeated.
"It's a statement piece," he explained, as if speaking to a slow child. "It requires a certain... presence. Seraphina is the face of the new campaign. It's a prop, essentially. Don't be so territorial. It's unbecoming."
Territorial.
I looked at the man I had loved for three years. The man whose startup I had quietly funded with the blood money the government sent me after the funeral. The man whose code I had fixed while he slept, whose panic attacks I had breathed him through.
"Tomorrow," I said, ignoring his insult, "is the arrival."
Julian blinked. "Arrival of what?"
The air left the room.
"My parents," I said. "The repatriation. Their remains are landing at JFK at 0800 hours. You promised you would drive me."
Julian checked his watch. He didn't even look at me. "Tomorrow morning? I can't. We have the brunch with the investors, and then Seraphina has fittings for the evening. Send an assistant."
"They are my parents, Julian."
"They've been dead for three years, Jade," he snapped, finally meeting my eyes. His gaze was cold, devoid of the warmth I had starved myself to earn. "They aren't going anywhere. A box of bones doesn't care if I'm there or not. Stop using your tragic backstory to manipulate me into skipping work. It's pathetic."
Seraphina made a small, sympathetic noise. "Julian, maybe you should go. She seems... unstable."
"She's fine," Julian dismissed, turning back to Seraphina. "She just wants attention. Jade, go check on the catering list for the brunch. Make sure they didn't include peanuts; Seraphina is allergic."
I stood there for a long moment.
The pain in my chest had stopped. It hadn't faded; it had simply crystallized into something hard and sharp, lodging itself between my ribs. The hope-that pathetic, whimpering thing that had kept me cooking his meals and fixing his bugs and enduring his mother's sneers-gave a final twitch and died.
"Take it off," I said softly.
Julian stiffened. "Excuse me?"
"The necklace," I said. "Take. It. Off."
"Go to your room, Jade," Julian warned, his voice dropping an octave. "You're embarrassing yourself."
I looked at the emerald one last time. It looked wrong on her. It looked like a lie.
"You're right," I said. The sudden calm in my voice made Seraphina frown. "I have things to prepare."
I turned and walked away. I didn't slam the door. I didn't cry. I walked to the master bedroom, past the framed photos of our wedding day. In the picture, Julian was smiling, looking at me as if I were the only person in the world. It was a perfect performance, I realized now. A mask he had worn until he no longer needed the audience.
I opened the safe in the back of the closet.
Inside, there were no jewels. There was a stack of files. A black beret. And a thick folder stamped with the Department of Defense seal.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. A secure text message.
COMMAND: Bird is inbound. C-130 wheels down at 0800. Honor Guard ready. Welcome home, Ghost.
I looked at the text. Then I looked at the empty side of the bed where Julian hadn't slept in weeks.
"Welcome home," I whispered to the empty room.
View More Comments on App
Other books by Rabbit
More/1/101423/coverbig.jpg?v=46b8ac4ba2161e0b69a9b73304ac43c3)
His Twisted Game, My Dangerous Love
RomanceVesper's marriage to Julian Sterling was a gilded cage. One morning, she woke naked beside Damon Sterling, Julian's terrifying brother, then found a text: Julian's mistress was pregnant. Her world shattered, but the real nightmare had just begun. Julian's abuse escalated, gaslighting Vesper, funding his secret life. Damon, a germaphobic billionaire, became her unsettling anchor amidst his chaos. As "Iris," Vesper exposed Julian's mistress, Serena Sharp, sparking brutal war: poisoned drinks, a broken leg, and the horrifying truth-Julian murdered her parents, trapping Vesper in marriage. The man she married was a killer. Broken and betrayed, Vesper was caught between monstrous brothers, burning with injustice. Refusing victimhood, Vesper reclaimed her identity. Fueled by vengeance, she allied with Damon, who vowed to burn his empire for her. Julian faced justice, but matriarch Eleanor's counterattack forced Vesper's choice as a hitman aimed for her.
/1/101926/coverbig.jpg?v=368e7983714c1a0bd18be7d5ea10f6b7)
My Husband's Blindness, My Sweet Revenge
RomanceThe roasted lamb was cold, a reflection of her marriage. On their third anniversary, Evelyn Vance waited alone in her Manhattan penthouse. Then her phone buzzed: Alexander, her husband, had been spotted leaving the hospital, holding his childhood sweetheart Scarlett Sharp's hand. Alexander arrived hours later, dismissing Evelyn's quiet complaint with a cold reminder: she was Mrs. Vance, not a victim. Her mother's demands reinforced this role, making Evelyn, a brilliant mind, feel like a ghost. A dangerous indifference replaced betrayal. The debt was paid; now, it was her turn. She drafted a divorce settlement, waiving everything. As Alexander's tender voice drifted from his study, speaking to Scarlett, Evelyn placed her wedding ring on his pillow, moved to the guest suite, and locked the door. The dull wife was gone; the Oracle was back.
/1/101923/coverbig.jpg?v=e39c3414725524d940dc167ac21cf8b0)
From Trophy Wife to Scientific Queen
RomanceMy husband Julian celebrated our five-year anniversary by sleeping with his mistress. He thought I was a clueless trophy wife, too dim to notice the vanilla and tuberose scent on his expensive suits. He was wrong. For years, I played Mrs. Vance, hiding my brilliance while Julian claimed my patents. An anonymous email confirmed his ultimate betrayal: photos of him and Scarlett Kensington in ecstasy. My heart didn't break; it solidified into ice at five years wasted. I activated "The Protocol" for a new identity and escape countdown. Playing the doting wife, I plotted his downfall, catching him with his mistress selling my work, and publicly snapping his credit card. His betrayals and stolen work ignited a cold, calculated fury. He had no idea the monster he'd created. I was dismantling his empire. I shredded his patent papers, stripping him of his ill-gotten gains. With a final tap, I initiated "Identity Erasure." Mrs. Vance was dead. Dr. Evelyn Thorne had just begun her counterattack.
/1/102860/coverbig.jpg?v=fd4279179a94dd229627ce7640bf190d)
He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him
RomanceThe sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her. Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. ""Mr. Kensington,"" the nurse's voice cracked, ""your wife... she's critical."" A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. ""Liam is in the shower,"" Seraphina's voice purred. ""Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low."" Then, Liam's bored voice: ""If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning."" Click. The line went dead. A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living. Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body. Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back.
/1/102856/coverbig.jpg?v=ab447bb3dfea8a92331d6f2abd61bff7)
After Divorce: My Arrogant Ex Regrets Calling Me Trash
RomanceAurora woke up to the sterile chill of her king-sized bed in Sterling Thorne's penthouse. Today was the day her husband would finally throw her out like garbage. Sterling walked in, tossed divorce papers at her, and demanded her signature, eager to announce his ""eligible bachelor"" status to the world. In her past life, the sight of those papers had broken her, leaving her begging for a second chance. Sterling's sneering voice, calling her a ""trailer park girl"" undeserving of his name, had once cut deeper than any blade. He had always used her humble beginnings to keep her small, to make her grateful for the crumbs of his attention. She had lived a gilded cage, believing she was nothing without him, until her life flatlined in a hospital bed, watching him give a press conference about his ""grief."" But this time, she felt no sting, no tears. Only a cold, clear understanding of the mediocre man who stood on a pedestal she had painstakingly built with her own genius. Aurora signed the papers, her name a declaration of independence. She grabbed her old, phoenix-stickered laptop, ready to walk out. Sterling Thorne was about to find out exactly how expensive ""free"" could be.
/1/102857/coverbig.jpg?v=5276123ce725745b44ab39f7aa4668f4)
After My Husband Cheated, I Married His Greatest Rival
RomanceThe rain assaulted the glass, mirroring the storm inside me. For three years, I, Vivian Sterling, played the perfect wife to Julian Kensington, draining my life. The antique clock ticked, a reminder of time lost. Then, I found it: a blonde hair on Julian's suit, reeking of Midnight Rose, and a text, ""Candy: You left your cufflinks on my nightstand. I'm already missing you."" My world shattered, revealing his betrayal. This was just the beginning. I exposed Julian's fraud and his family's violent plots, surviving assassination. But their malice stole my past. Then Alexander Vance, my protector, uncovered a terrifying truth: my birth mother was alive, held captive by a shadowy order. My life was a lie, built to shield me from my dangerous bloodline. I found strength and love with Alexander, the man who walked into fire for me. Yet, as I prepared to rescue my mother, a new life stirred within me, a secret threatening to complicate the impending war.
You'll also like
/0/93632/coverbig.jpg?v=323632e4ac024375de5ec954ffd77667)
The Forgotten Mother's Vow: Taking Back What's Hers
Beckett GreyIsabelle's love for Kolton held flawless for fifteen years-until the day she delivered their children and slipped into a coma. He leaned to her ear and whispered, "Don't wake up. You're worthless to me now." The twins later clutched another woman's hand and chirped, "Mommy," splintering Isabelle's heart. She woke, filed for divorce, and disappeared. Only then did Kolton notice her fingerprints on every habit. They met again: she emerged as the lead medical specialist, radiant and unmoved. But at her engagement gala, she leapt into a tycoon's arms. Jealous, he crushed a glass, blood wetting his palm. He believed as soon as he made a move, Isabelle would return to him. After all, she had loved him deeply.
/0/91373/coverbig.jpg?v=148cd4ab8e6c7da84be0f1c556aa9948)
She Was The Joke, Now She's The Queen
Lila WrenTwo years of marriage left Brinley questioning everything, her supposed happiness revealed as nothing but sham. Abandoning her past for Colin, she discovered only betrayal and a counterfeit wedding. Accepting his heart would stay frozen, she called her estranged father, agreeing to the match he proposed. Laughter followed her, with whispers of Colin's power to toss her aside. Yet, she reinvented herself-legendary racer, casino mastermind, and acclaimed designer. When Colin tried to reclaim her, another man pulled Brinley close. "She's already carrying my child. You can't move on?"
/1/100385/coverbig.jpg?v=d2377f2e89744f564e672d62cce9c375)
Marrying The Rival: My Ex-Husband's Despair
GavinI stood outside my husband's study, the perfect mafia wife, only to hear him mocking me as an "ice sculpture" while he entertained his mistress, Aria. But the betrayal went deeper than infidelity. A week later, my saddle snapped mid-jump, leaving me with a shattered leg. Lying in the hospital bed, I overheard the conversation that killed the last of my love. My husband, Alessandro, knew Aria had sabotaged my gear. He knew she could have killed me. Yet, he told his men to let it go. He called my near-death experience a "lesson" because I had bruised his mistress's ego. He humiliated me publicly, freezing my accounts to buy family heirlooms for her. He stood by while she threatened to leak our private tapes to the press. He destroyed my dignity to play the hero for a woman he thought was a helpless orphan. He had no idea she was a fraud. He didn't know I had installed micro-cameras throughout the estate while he was busy pampering her. He didn't know I had hours of footage showing his "innocent" Aria sleeping with his guards, his rivals, and even his staff, laughing about how easy he was to manipulate. At the annual charity gala, in front of the entire crime family, Alessandro demanded I apologize to her. I didn't beg. I didn't cry. I simply connected my drive to the main projector and pressed play.
/0/65655/coverbig.jpg?v=f3421ab9cd92c9bb209515359c435991)
His Unwanted Wife, The World's Coveted Genius
Derk BlaylockRumors said that Lucas married an unattractive woman with no background. In the three years they were together, he remained cold and distant to Belinda, who endured in silence. Her love for him forced her to sacrifice her self-worth and her dreams. When Lucas' true love reappeared, Belinda realized that their marriage was a sham from the start, a ploy to save another woman's life. She signed the divorce papers and left. Three years later, Belinda returned as a surgical prodigy and a maestro of the piano. Lost in regret, Lucas chased her in the rain and held her tightly. "You are mine, Belinda."
/0/93319/coverbig.jpg?v=36d980fcebaa7d27d48a0b7d3af7b1da)
Reborn Vengeful Heiress: Married to the Cold Tycoon
PageProfit StudioShe gave him her heart, her trust, and even her family's company. In return, he took her father's life - and tried to steal her kidney for her cousin. When Freya dies on the cold operating table, she wakes up... reborn - in another so-called useless orphan girl's body. But death left her with more than scars- Now, whispers of the future echo in her mind, guiding her revenge... Surrounded by greedy relatives and deadly schemes, she's ready to fight back. What she didn't expect? To accidentally fall into the bed of Leander-the nation's most feared, most unattainable billionaire. He's cold, ruthless, untouchable. But after that one night... he wants her. Her body. Her revenge. Her hand in marriage. Now, they're not just husband and wife by contract. They're partners in revenge.
His Twisted Game, My Dangerous Love
RabbitVesper's marriage to Julian Sterling was a gilded cage. One morning, she woke naked beside Damon Sterling, Julian's terrifying brother, then found a text: Julian's mistress was pregnant. Her world shattered, but the real nightmare had just begun. Julian's abuse escalated, gaslighting Vesper, funding his secret life. Damon, a germaphobic billionaire, became her unsettling anchor amidst his chaos. As "Iris," Vesper exposed Julian's mistress, Serena Sharp, sparking brutal war: poisoned drinks, a broken leg, and the horrifying truth-Julian murdered her parents, trapping Vesper in marriage. The man she married was a killer. Broken and betrayed, Vesper was caught between monstrous brothers, burning with injustice. Refusing victimhood, Vesper reclaimed her identity. Fueled by vengeance, she allied with Damon, who vowed to burn his empire for her. Julian faced justice, but matriarch Eleanor's counterattack forced Vesper's choice as a hitman aimed for her.
© 2018-now CHANGDU (HK) TECHNOLOGY LIMITED
6/F MANULIFE PLACE 348 KWUN TONG ROAD KL
Referrals
TOP
APP STORE
GOOGLE PLAY