Hiding His Secret Twins From The CEO

"You want a divorce? Fine. Complete an IVF cycle, give me an heir to unlock my trust fund, and I'll sign the papers." In the dim underground garage, my cheating husband gripped my wrist tightly, his face twisted in a mocking sneer. "Stop dreaming, Ellie. Your family is bankrupt! You think if you leave me, some Wall Street billionaire is going to be blind enough to be your knight in shining armor?" Looking at his arrogant face, I felt nothing but pure disgust. For three years of a dead marriage, he paraded his mistress into our marital bed, letting her wear my clothes and carry my bags. When I demanded a divorce, my own vain mother tried to force me back to be his incubator, all for a seven-million-dollar bribe. "I'd rather die than have your child." I looked at him coldly and slammed the "PETITION FOR DISSOLUTION OF MARRIAGE" right into his face. Infuriated, he tightened his grip on my arm, ready to explode. Just then, blinding LED headlights tore through the darkness of the garage. A custom black Bentley Mulsanne glided silently out of the shadows, stopping inches behind us. The tinted window rolled down, revealing a sharp, lethally handsome face. The most ruthless, untouchable billionaire on Wall Street-Cosmo James. He also happened to be my husband's former best friend. Cosmo's ice-blue eyes locked onto the hand gripping my arm. His deep voice cut through the freezing air like a blade: "Take your hands off her." Cosmo leaned slightly forward, radiating sheer, predatory authority. A cold, ruthless smirk touched his lips. "You asked which Wall Street billionaire is going to be her knight in shining armor." "It's me."

Everlee dragged her bleeding body home after barely surviving a brutal kidnapping, only to find her billionaire husband throwing a lavish party. It wasn't to celebrate her survival, but to host a birthday bash for his adopted sister, Ayla, right on their fifth wedding anniversary. Instead of asking about the raw rope burns on her wrists, Jamison looked at her muddy clothes with utter disgust. "Where the hell have you been? Tonight is Ayla's birthday party. Look at what you're wearing. You're embarrassing me." When Everlee finally filed for divorce and went to the equestrian club, Ayla maliciously spurred Everlee's horse during a jump. The stallion bucked, throwing Everlee violently to the ground. As a pool of dark blood spread beneath Everlee from her rupturing womb, Jamison didn't even look at her. He scooped up a lightly bruised Ayla, leaving his miscarrying wife to die in the dirt. Saved by a powerful stranger, Everlee woke up in the hospital after an emergency surgery to remove her dead baby. Through the door, she heard Jamison's impatient voice talking to his mother. "Leave her alone in there. Once she realizes I'm not buying her little performance, she'll crawl back to the penthouse on her own and apologize to Ayla." He didn't even believe his own child had existed, reducing her tragedy to a jealous stunt for attention. Listening to the man she had loved for five years, the last shred of warmth in Everlee's heart turned to ash. She pressed a hand to her empty stomach, her eyes hardening into pure ice. With twenty-nine days left in their divorce cooling-off period, she was going to burn the entire Ingram family to the ground.

In my past life, my family's bankruptcy destroyed everything, and I ended up dying on a cold metal table as a test subject for the Chimera Project. It all started when my father's company was framed for a magical artifact leak, forcing him to pay a ruinous compensation. When we begged for help, his own brothers came to our house. But they didn't come to save us. "Sign the deed to the ancestral home over to me, or you can all starve in the streets," my uncle sneered, picking our bones clean. At the magical academy, I became a bankrupt charity case. Elite girls like Vanessa Sterling framed me for stealing her dragon-hide wallet, turning me into a pariah. "A lowly Human like you doesn't belong here," she mocked, as everyone watched me get humiliated. My parents died in absolute despair, and I was sold off to a dark laboratory, my wrist branded with a jagged, ugly scar. Until the moment the searing agony tore through my nerves, I couldn't accept it. Why did my own blood relatives push my father to suicide? Why did the magical elites get to trample us into the dirt without consequence? Then, the white-hot pain suddenly vanished. I gasped and opened my eyes, finding myself sitting in a bright classroom, ten years in the past. The ugly scar on my wrist was gone, and a strange new ability was awakening in my mind. I could hear their thoughts. This time, I was going to rewrite my fate and make them all pay.

Fresh out of prison and facing a parole violation, Candace Price was kicked onto the streets by her abusive aunt. To avoid going back to a cell, she accepted a desperate lifeline: marrying her former mentor's son, a supposedly ordinary supermarket manager named Gauge Bailey. But right after they signed the papers, this "simple" manager handed her the keys to a multi-million-dollar penthouse at The Elysian Towers. Before she could even question his bizarre wealth, her new mother-in-law faked a medical emergency. From her hospital bed, the older woman slapped a priceless heirloom jade bracelet on Candace's wrist. "I need to know the family line is secure. You have three months to get pregnant." Suffocating under the pressure of being treated like a mere breeding vessel, Candace tried to reach out to her new husband. Instead, she discovered he had deliberately declined her contact request and completely erased her number from his phone. The humiliation hit her like a physical blow. Why agree to this marriage if he held her in such utter contempt? And who exactly was this cold, imposing stranger who lived in a billionaire's playground while claiming to stock grocery shelves? Staring at the rejected notification on her screen, a cold, hard resolve settled in Candace's chest. She slid the heavy jade bracelet off her wrist and locked it away in a dark drawer. If he wanted a sham marriage, she would play along. She would use his penthouse and his name to build her own independence, and when the time came, she would be the one to walk away.

I survived three years in a hellish military facility, enduring shrapnel wounds and nerve damage just to finally return home to my wealthy family. But the moment I stepped out into the sun, my ex-fiancé looked at my scarred body with pure disgust, coldly asking if I had "learned my lesson" for stressing out my fragile sister, Cassie. At the family estate, my mother had already given my bedroom to Cassie. My brother shielded her from me like I was a wild animal, and my father publicly called me an ungrateful wretch just because Cassie accidentally splashed a drop of coffee on her own hand. They ignored my life-threatening, jagged scars, casually offering me Cassie's leftover burn cream for my "old marks." I couldn't understand how three years of my blood and agony meant absolutely nothing to the people who were supposed to love me. They had willingly sent me to hell just to keep their precious, manipulative darling happy, systematically erasing my existence from their lives. When they shamelessly handed me the annulment papers and demanded I graciously bless Conrad and Cassie's new engagement to protect the Beaumont family brand, the last flicker of my affection turned to ash. I calmly agreed to step aside, but as my mother smiled in triumph, I looked at them with ice in my eyes. "You want me to be the sacrificial lamb for your perfect little family? Fine. But it will cost you."

I was dragged back to the wealthy Hayes family years after they threw me out like garbage. The matriarch ordered me to take my sister's place and marry Alaric Montgomery, a ruthless CEO rumored to be on his deathbed. "If you refuse, I will have your mother's grave dug up by tomorrow morning." They wanted to use me as a superstitious blood sacrifice so their precious golden child wouldn't have to become a young widow. My stepmother and sister mocked my cheap clothes and sprayed toxic chemicals in my face, treating me like a disposable pawn meant to die quietly in the Montgomery estate. But while they were laughing, I hacked into the top-tier medical network and discovered the truth. Alaric wasn't dying of a terminal illness; he was suffering from a highly lethal neurotoxin. Worse, I found out the Montgomery family was deeply involved in the orchestrated car crash that murdered my mother, and they were currently hunting down her sacred healing pendant. My family thinks I am just a weak, illiterate country bumpkin who will cry and accept her miserable fate. They have no idea that I am actually "The Surgeon," the legendary underground doctor that Alaric is burning billions of dollars to find. Wearing my faded hoodie and worn combat boots, I calmly stepped into the Montgomery family's fleet of Rolls-Royces. They think they are sending a helpless lamb to the slaughter. They don't realize they just invited an apex predator into the lion's den.