At the Gala, My Wife Became a Stranger

The music was too loud, the crowd too thick. Then came the screams, the smell of smoke, the fire. My body moved to save Chloe, a reflex from a past life I shouldn't remember, a life where her disgust and obsession with her childhood crush, Ethan, had led to my suicide. But then the cruel memories flooded back: Chloe, my girlfriend, reaching for Ethan Hayes amidst the chaos, screaming his name. I tried to pull her away, but she shrieked, yanking free, choosing him. I let her go. Her mother publicly shamed me. Chloe and Ethan, now campus heroes, revelled in their 'tragic romance,' while my life became a living hell. Then came the bombshell: Ethan was my estranged father's illegitimate son, and they both waltzed into my exclusive robotics lab, orchestrated by him. They framed me, painted me as the jealous ex, leading to my suspension. Why was history repeating, yet so much worse? I was the villain, they the victims, but I knew their twisted truth. Chloe's calculated manipulation, Ethan's cruel games, my father's puppetry – this wasn't just heartbreak; it was a setup designed to ruin me. My past life's pain was a shield now, a brutal teacher. But they underestimated me. I'd been here before. This time, my eyes were wide open. A discreet security camera, a digital recorder-their every lie, their every malicious move, would be exposed. My life would be different. It had to be. I wouldn't be their fool again.

The final handful of dirt hit my daughter Maya' s small casket. My wife, Jessica, was inexplicably absent from our only child's funeral. But the true horror unravelled when I overheard her voice from the study on a video call, casual and cold: "Maya… her birth was an inconvenience from the start." My stomach twisted. She' d skipped the funeral to go on a date with her college ex, Blake Harrison, who was now at our dinner table later that day. She'd already boxed up all of Maya's cherished belongings, labeled "Donate." My precious girl, labeled disposable. Jessica then threatened to ruin my career and steal my life' s work, Project Beacon, a revolutionary AI I had secretly poured years into. The woman I married wasn't just detached; she was a monster. She had orchestrated Maya's death, presenting it as aggressive treatment, all to clear the way for a reunion with an old flame. How could anyone be so calculating, so devoid of humanity, especially towards their own child? The grief that choked me transformed into pure, calculated fury. "I want a divorce," I told her, my voice steady. But that was just the start. The AI she thought was her leverage, the one she planned to use to destroy me, was already patented under a trust – the "Maya M. Miller Benevolent Trust." This wasn't just about my career; this was about securing Maya' s legacy. And I was just getting started.

My Manhattan penthouse, a testament to my late father-in-law Michael Rossi's empire, felt like a gilded cage. As Michael' s chosen "legacy guardian," I was loyal, a steady presence. But to his daughter, my wife Isabella, I was just background noise, an obstacle to her obsession: rockstar Jules Vance. One day, she swept in, reeking of expensive perfume, ready to jettison for Austin and Jules. I handed her a stack of company papers, including a marital separation agreement Marc and I had subtly slipped in. Without a glance, she scribbled her name, dismissing our anniversary, her father's legacy, and me. Her heels clicked away, the door slamming shut, sealing my fate. She hadn't even noticed the separation. I was bound by a promise to a dead man, meant to protect a woman who saw me as a ghost, a joke to her and her flamboyant lover. Her casual cruelty and constant dismissal had built an insurmountable wall. Years of emotional suffocation, of being the quiet anchor to a woman who resented stability, finally took their toll. How could a marriage, painstakingly built by her visionary father, a man who saw me as a trusted son, be dissolved with such a careless flick of a pen? Her indifference was a brutal symbol of her utter disregard. I was simply exhausted. This time, her ignorance was my liberation. With her signature on that separation agreement, the decision was unequivocally made. I packed a single duffel bag, climbed into my old pickup truck, and drove north. Leaving the glittering city, the endless drama, and the woman who didn't want it, irrevocably behind. My new life had finally begun.

Ava Rodriguez's brilliant brother, Leo, won the acclaimed American Justice Fellowship. His future was supposed to shine, a beacon of hope for their family. Then, he died. They called it suicide, but Leo's last scrawled words to her were: "Don't accept the fellowship." Ava knew they were lying. He was murdered, just like every other fellow who threatened the powerful. For three years, she buried herself in law, watching, waiting, preparing to expose the truth. Now, she's won the fellowship herself, her proposal a direct challenge to the corrupt system. But as she publicly declares her brother was murdered and vows to expose the truth, the trap springs shut around her. Suddenly, she's not the grieving sister seeking justice, but the prime suspect in a series of horrific murders. Evidence - her brother's unique custom pen, her IP address near other "suicide" scenes - mysteriously emerges, painting her as a cold-blooded serial killer. Even her own mother, distraught and masked, appears, "confessing" to the crimes to protect Ava, unknowingly deepening the meticulously planned frame-up. The world spins into a nightmare of accusations and twisted truths. She' s being set up not to shine, but to be destroyed, with her "suicide" in federal custody as the perfect final act. How could they twist everything so perfectly? Why her mother' s desperate, bizarre act? The narrative has been set: Ava Rodriguez, brilliant law graduate, or monstrous serial killer? Refusing to be another silenced victim, Ava stages a high-stakes escape from federal custody. She races to the darkest secret her family holds, the one place she believes the real truth lies-her father's grave. Under the harsh glare of news cameras and the FBI, a shovel in hand, she prepares to dig. What she unearths will either expose a shocking family secret and a vast conspiracy, or bury her forever.

The scent of woodsmoke and damp earth was the first sensation I knew. Then, memory, sharp and cruel, flooded back: Sadie' s smile, Beau' s laugh, and my wagon, piled with preserves, tipping violently. I sat bolt upright in my Havenwood bed, not the ravine, bathed in spring sunlight. My nightmare first life was over; I was reborn. My childhood friend, Sadie, had always eyed my jam-making skill with dark envy. I simply created art from local flora using family recipes. Sadie desperately coveted the Harvest Festival Championship, town admiration, and shallow Beau Sterling. I innocently revealed the legend that the champion marries Beau, which Sadie ruthlessly exploited. Sadie, manipulative and ambitious, conspired with Beau to sabotage my wagon, staging an "accident." They left me for dead, shattering my dreams and existence for hollow prestige and a fleeting title. The betrayal, from my best friend and the admired man, was a venomous sting, worse than any physical pain. How could they be so cruel, so consumed by ambition, just to destroy my life? Now, breathing crisp Vermont air, I was alive and remembered everything. My former kindness was gone, replaced by cunning forged in betrayal's fire. This time, I would protect myself and Havenwood from such insidious people. My first move was clear: Sadie.

The searing pain slammed into me, horrifyingly familiar, as I gasped awake in the birthing suite of my sprawling Texas estate. This was it: the day my first child was due, the very day my entire world spiraled into a nightmare in my last life. I remembered every agonizing detail: my mother, Eleanor, abandoning me in labor, leaving for my stepsister Brittany's lavish birthday party, then her monstrous rage, blaming me for Brittany's death. I remembered the poisoned christening, my husband Ethan collapsing, our baby lifeless, then Eleanor dragging me to Brittany's grave, her hands tightening around my throat, murdering me. Now, reborn, I realized the chilling truth: Eleanor was reborn too, and already, her creature, Nurse Gretchen, stood over me, determined to repeat history, actively trying to force my crowning baby back inside me. The pain was unbearable, the betrayal absolute, as I screamed, knowing she meant to murder my child before its first breath, just like before, all for a twisted obsession with her adopted daughter. How could my own mother be so utterly, undeniably evil, to repeat such a heinous act against her own flesh and blood, attempting to erase my family once more? Just as despair threatened to consume me, a familiar, powerful presence erupted into the room: Ethan, my husband, his eyes blazing with a fierce, knowing protectiveness that mirrored my own reborn memories. He remembered too. With him by my side, we would no longer be victims; we would confront the depths of Eleanor's cruelty, unravel her darkest secrets, and wage a battle not just for our baby's life, but for the justice denied in a past life.

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."

Sandra Hill, the long-lost real heiress of the Hill family, was shunned by her own kin. Instead of embracing her, they bestowed their affection upon an impostor. They even arranged her to marry a vegetative man in place of her so-called “sister”. Sandra sneered, refusing to put up with this humiliation, cut off ties with the Hill family immediately and ran into the flash marriage with Wesley Cooper, her unconscious billionaire husband. With her incredible medical skills, she defied the odds and revived him. Little did she expect that her husband spoiled her with all his love... A medical genius, a computer prodigy, a national treasure in painting, and a racing legend... Her husband revealed her various identities, leaving the Hill family regretful. Her father came pleading, "It's Dad's fault. Please come back." Her mother wept, "Mom will protect you from now on. Please come back." Even her five brothers knelt before he, begging for forgiveness. Yet, Sandra's smile held a hint of mockery as she vowed, “Never!”

After being kicked out of her home, Harlee learned she wasn't the biological daughter of her family. Rumors had it that her impoverished biological family favored sons and planned to profit from her return. Unexpectedly, her real father was a zillionaire, catapulting her into immense wealth and making her the most cherished member of the family. While they anticipated her disgrace, Harlee secretly held design patents worth billions. Celebrated for her brilliance, she was invited to mentor in a national astronomy group, drew interest from wealthy suitors, and caught the eye of a mysterious figure, ascending to legendary status.

For ten years, Daniela showered her ex-husband with unwavering devotion, only to discover she was just his biggest joke. Feeling humiliated yet determined, she finally divorced him. Three months later, Daniela returned in grand style. She was now the hidden CEO of a leading brand, a sought-after designer, and a wealthy mining mogul—her success unveiled at her triumphant comeback. Her ex-husband’s entire family rushed over, desperate to beg for forgiveness and plead for another chance. Yet Daniela, now cherished by the famed Mr. Phillips, regarded them with icy disdain. "I’m out of your league."

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."

After two years of marriage, Kristian dropped a bombshell. "She's back. Let's get divorced. Name your price." Freya didn't argue. She just smiled and made her demands. "I want your most expensive supercar." "Okay." "The villa on the outskirts." "Sure." "And half of the billions we made together." Kristian froze. "Come again?" He thought she was ordinary—but Freya was the genius behind their fortune. And now that she'd gone, he'd do anything to win her back.