Too Late, Mr. Winters: I'm No Victim

"Dad, I can break up with Lucas and marry into the most powerful mafia family, the Vittorine family, and wed that brutal heir." Eve's robe hung loosely, and there were kiss marks all over her neck. "But I have one condition. If you agree to it, I'll marry him." Eve's father, Robert Costa, asked her excitedly on the other end of the phone, but Eve abruptly hung up. Lucas got out of the bathroom, wiping droplets from his wet hair. Then he pulled Eve into his arms, and they fell into bed together. Eve buried her face in his chest, but her eyes were cold. She was the daughter of the Costa family and had been secretly in love with Lucas Smith, a district leader in the family, for five years. Three days ago, she was kidnapped. The kidnappers targeted a batch of goods belonging to Lucas. They used Eve as leverage to threaten Lucas. Her phone died after repeatedly trying to call him all night, but Lucas never answered. Eve was pushed off a cliff and was badly injured. She was then saved by the head of her family, so she narrowly escaped death. Lucas was flirting with her father's illegitimate daughter, Alina. Eve utterly realized Lucas's true face and stopped loving him. Lucas proposed to her today, and Eve had prepared a big gift for him. She would give him freedom.

Tonight was supposed to be the happiest night of my life, my engagement party to Alex Turner at the grand St. Regis ballroom. He was handsome, the heir to a fortune, and I had loved him for three years. As he reached for the ring, a woman stumbled in, disheveled and crying. "Alex!" she wailed, claiming she' d been drugged. It was Chloe Hayes, his childhood friend, the one he always called "just like a sister." Without a moment' s hesitation, Alex abandoned me on stage, scooping Chloe into his arms and disappearing into a private lounge. The crowd' s whispers and snickers burned my ears. "Did you see that? He just left her." "On their engagement night, too. How humiliating." My joy curdled into a cold, hard knot. I wanted the floor to swallow me whole. How could he do this to me, after everything? Why was I always the one left behind, the one humiliated? Just as shame threatened to consume me, another figure stepped into the spotlight. It was Daniel Sterling, Alex' s business rival. He picked up the abandoned engagement ring, ascended the stage, and knelt before me. "He can' t even be bothered to give you the ring himself," he said, his eyes surprisingly kind. Then, he held up the ring and asked, "Jane Lim, he doesn' t deserve you. Will you marry me?" My mind went blank. He then pulled out a stunning emerald bracelet. "This is a Sterling family heirloom," he declared. "It belongs to the matriarch of our family. I want you to have it." In that moment, I saw a lifeline, a chance to reclaim my dignity. Looking at Daniel, a man I barely knew, offering more respect than Alex ever had, I took a deep breath. "Yes," I said, my voice shaking but clear. "I will."

Our Maui anniversary trip was set. For years, I' d quietly funded my husband Mark' s tech startup, even his mother' s expensive cancer treatment. He thought I was just "Sarah Miller," unassuming, never guessing my father owned vast vineyards and luxury resorts. Then, at the airport, he canceled our trip. An 'investor crisis,' he claimed. My gut screamed suspicion. I checked Instagram: my au pair' s daughter, Tiffany, wearing my designer dress, passionately kissing Mark in my living room, captioned 'My man knows how to treat his queen!' I drove home to find a raging party. Mark was kissing Tiffany. When confronted, he called me a 'crazy ex.' Tiffany shrieked they' d been 'soulmates for two years.' Her friends mocked, assaulted me, tearing my dress. My au pair (also in my stolen clothes) sneered, calling me 'the help.' They then launched a brutal online campaign, leaking my private photos, twisted to accuse me of infidelity, securing donations. Mark demanded I sign divorce papers, abandoning everything. How could the man whose entire world I secretly built betray me so completely? How could they weaponize my private moments, twisting every truth? The public shaming, the injustice, felt suffocating. But I held a secret they never knew. So, I signed those papers, conceding everything. They believed I was broken, defeated. But they were wrong. My father had always called my true identity a 'trump card.' It was finally time to play it.

I lived a quiet life on the Texas frontier, raised by my kind adoptive parents, Jed and Elara. My childhood sweetheart, Ethan, left for the city with a promise: he' d become a lawyer, make a fortune, and come back for me. He even sealed it with a small, simple ring. I wore it close to my heart, dreaming of our future. Then came the letter. Not from Ethan, but a cold, typewritten announcement of his engagement to Miss Seraphina Thorne, formally dismissing me as a simple frontier girl. That same day, I found Jed and Elara in the smokehouse. Not whole. Brutally, impossibly changed. I stood there, knife in hand, blood on my dress, when the first neighbor screamed. The sheriff arrested me for their murder. My silence earned me the town' s fury; they called me a monster, just as a spiritualist had once warned. Ethan returned, with Seraphina, who watched my public humiliation with a faint, cruel smile. They "found" Ethan' s old engagement letter on me, making it look like a crime of passion. But the real horror came later, in my jail cell. Someone, in the dark, had cut out my tongue. I couldn't speak, couldn't explain the unexplainable. How could I have murdered the only family I knew, the people who sacrificed everything to protect my deepest secret? Their love, their desperate final act, was twisted into my damnation. Who truly took my voice? And how could I, a survivor, explain a sacrifice so profound it defied sanity? But when Ethan, seeing my injuries, finally faced me, I knew I had to break my agonizing silence, even without a voice. With a trembling hand, charcoal on wood, I began to write. This, then, is the truth of Anya Brightwater: a tale not of murder, but of relentless love, ancient blood debts, an American frontier built on lies, and a secret that would shatter everything they thought they knew.

I married Liam Thorne, the love of my life, wearing a five-dollar thrift store dress. We ate pizza on museum steps, dreaming of a future where our shared music would change the world, just "us against everyone." I sacrificed everything for him: giving up my band's breakthrough gig, draining our meager savings for his mother's emergency surgery, and enduring ugly rumors and public scorn, all to pave the way for Liam's glittering career. My dreams faded, but his soared. As Liam transformed into a global rock superstar, my own life became a carefully constructed demolition. I was manipulated into a humiliating, sexualized music video, publicly branded a "desperate sellout," and then mercilessly blacklisted by the same industry that elevated him. When I was sick and broken, consumed by an autoimmune illness, the man I loved abandoned me, choosing manufactured fame and a new "power couple" over everything we'd built. I died alone, my life dismissed by the media as a tragic "trainwreck," just a footnote in his triumphant story. How could Liam Thorne, the boy who once held my hand and vowed "forever," so casually dismiss me as "unstable" while building his empire on my shattered dreams? Why was my truth buried with me, unheard, while his carefully crafted narrative reigned supreme? But now, my private journals—the raw, unfiltered record of every painful sacrifice, every calculated betrayal—have fallen into the hands of a fearless podcaster. The world is about to hear my voice, finally ready to uncover the shocking truth hidden beneath Liam Thorne's polished facade.

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."

For three years, Natalie gave everything to be the perfect wife and mother, believing her love and effort could finally earn her a place in their hearts. Yet her sacrifices were met with betrayal from her husband and cold rejection from her son. In their eyes, she was nothing but a manipulator, using vulnerability to get her way. Her husband turned his back, her son misunderstood her, and she never truly belonged. Heartbroken yet determined, Natalie left her old life behind. When her family finally begged for a second chance, she looked at them and said, "It's too late."

Brenna lived with her adoptive parents for twenty years, enduring their exploitation. When their real daughter appeared, they sent Brenna back to her true parents, thinking they were broke. In reality, her birth parents belonged to a top circle that her adoptive family could never reach. Hoping Brenna would fail, they gasped at her status: a global finance expert, a gifted engineer, the fastest racer... Was there any end to the identities she kept hidden? After her fiancé ended their engagement, Brenna met his twin brother. Unexpectedly, her ex-fiancé showed up, confessing his love...

Since she was ten, Noreen had been by Caiden's side, watching him rise from a young boy into a respected CEO. After two years of marriage, though, his visits home grew rare. Gossip among the wealthy said he despised her. Even his beloved mocked her hopes, and his circle treated her with scorn. People forgot about her decade of loyalty. She clung to memories and became a figure of ridicule, worn out from trying. They thought he'd won his freedom, but he dropped to his knees and begged, "Noreen, you're the only one I love." Leaving behind the divorce papers, she walked away.

Being second best is practically in my DNA. My sister got the love, the attention, the spotlight. And now, even her damn fiancé. Technically, Rhys Granger was my fiancé now-billionaire, devastatingly hot, and a walking Wall Street wet dream. My parents shoved me into the engagement after Catherine disappeared, and honestly? I didn't mind. I'd crushed on Rhys for years. This was my chance, right? My turn to be the chosen one? Wrong. One night, he slapped me. Over a mug. A stupid, chipped, ugly mug my sister gave him years ago. That's when it hit me-he didn't love me. He didn't even see me. I was just a warm-bodied placeholder for the woman he actually wanted. And apparently, I wasn't even worth as much as a glorified coffee cup. So I slapped him right back, dumped his ass, and prepared for disaster-my parents losing their minds, Rhys throwing a billionaire tantrum, his terrifying family plotting my untimely demise. Obviously, I needed alcohol. A lot of alcohol. Enter him. Tall, dangerous, unfairly hot. The kind of man who makes you want to sin just by existing. I'd met him only once before, and that night, he just happened to be at the same bar as my drunk, self-pitying self. So I did the only logical thing: I dragged him into a hotel room and ripped off his clothes. It was reckless. It was stupid. It was completely ill-advised. But it was also: Best. Sex. Of. My. Life. And, as it turned out, the best decision I'd ever made. Because my one-night stand isn't just some random guy. He's richer than Rhys, more powerful than my entire family, and definitely more dangerous than I should be playing with. And now, he's not letting me go.

I just got my billionaire husband to sign our divorce papers. He thinks it's another business document. Our marriage was a business transaction. I was his secretary by day, his invisible wife by night. He got a CEO title and a rebellion against his mother; I got the money to save mine. The only rule? Don't fall in love. I broke it. He didn't. So I'm cashing out. Thirty days from now, I'm gone. But now he's noticing me. Touching me. Claiming me. The same man who flaunts his mistresses is suddenly burning down a nightclub because another man insulted me. He says he'll never let me go. But he has no idea I'm already halfway out the door. How far will a billionaire go to keep a wife he never wanted until she tried to leave?