From Stand-In to Sterling

They called my family's gift the "Midas touch," uncanny luck ensuring prosperity for those in our orbit. Julian Thorne, from a lineage cursed with men dying before thirty, desperately needed it for his survival. His mother, Victoria, proposed a lucrative partnership to save her son. In my first life, I accepted, pouring my essence into his success, helping him defy fate, celebrating his 30th birthday. But he paraded his new love, Isabelle, and publicly denounced me as a fraud, shattering my reputation. My assets frozen, my name disgraced, everything I had vanished by morning. He then abandoned me at a desolate, chemical waste site, where I died alone and terrified, my hometown withering under his cruel hand. The metallic tang of chemicals, the stench of decay – that memory seared into my soul, a cold reality of his ultimate betrayal. How could the man I saved condemn me to such a horrifying end? Then, I blinked. I was back. Reborn, on the very day Victoria Thorne first offered that cursed contract. My hands steady, I pushed it back. "No," I said, my voice quiet but cutting, shattering the chains of my past and forging a new destiny.

My life as a pastry chef with dreams as sweet as my confections was shattered in an instant. The doctor' s words echoed: "Acute myeloid leukemia." But that diagnosis was only the first blow. Numbly, I returned home, only to discover a hidden folder on my longtime boyfriend Liam' s tablet: "Walker_Harrington_Private." Inside were marriage certificates and photos of Liam, beaming, with his wife, Bella-dated three years ago. My heart didn't just break; it stopped. The man I loved, the one I' d been sketching wedding cakes for, had a secret wife. Then, the true horror unfolded: I overheard Liam casually discussing "the Ava project" with a colleague. His plan? Use me as an incubator for a child for him and Bella, who was barren. He' d meticulously crafted my world, ensuring I had no one but him, even starting malicious rumors during our college days to isolate me. Eight years. My entire future, my security, was a meticulously woven lie. The sickness eating my body felt less painful than the absolute, soul-crushing betrayal. How could I have been so utterly blind? So stupidly devoted to a monster? But in that abyss, a flicker of cold defiance sparked. A brochure for experimental CAR T-cell therapy in Boston. I would fight for my life, but on my own terms. My only path forward: survive the leukemia, and completely disappear from Liam' s monstrous game.

At seven, my mother married a rich man, throwing me into their opulent world. I was supposed to call him "Dad," and get a new life. Instead, I met Ethan, my new stepbrother, a teenager with eyes like ice chips. That very day, he shoved me into an infinity pool, sneering, "Know your place." My own mother, too busy solidifying her new status, hissed, "Don't embarrass me," and locked me in a utility closet. For the next decade, the Sterling mansion became my gilded cage. Ethan systematically made my life hell: torn homework, pushes downstairs, humiliating chores like cleaning his muddy shoes. I became a ghost in the vast house. When my mother was brutally discarded, I lost everything, plummeting into poverty. But Ethan' s torment didn't stop; it followed me, escalating from cyberbullying to physical threats that nearly cost me my life. Just when I thought a scholarship offered escape, he appeared, deliberately sabotaging my university dreams. Desperate, I was forced into his dark, dangerous world. I woke up stark naked in his penthouse, branded his "plaything," his "kept woman." He placed me in the very same condo where his mother had died by suicide. What twisted game was he playing? Did he want me to follow her tragic path? Trapped and pregnant with his child, I made a desperate bid for freedom, attempting to jump from a window, only to miscarry. But from that rock-bottom despair, a flicker ignited. I would not be his victim. I would reclaim my life. This is the story of how I clawed my way out of his personal hell, leaving the tormentor-and his twisted obsession-behind for good.

The music throbbed at my sister Claire' s engagement party. Ethan Prescott, the man I was supposed to marry, stood beside her, glowing. I watched from the sidelines, a polite smile glued to my face, my family' s legendary Aegis Locket cool against my skin. Then Claire screamed. Stumbling into the ballroom, her dress torn, a bruise blooming on her cheek, she pointed directly at me, her voice cracking. "She did this! Rory attacked me! She said I stole Ethan, that I' d pay!" My fiancé, my brother Sam, and even my own mother, instantly believed her lies. They called me a monster. Without a second thought, Ethan ripped the Aegis Locket from my neck, banishing me to "The Hollows," a desolate commune in Maine, for "rehabilitation." Five years I endured there: systematic torture, starvation, brutal beatings, and the ultimate degradation – a searing brand announcing "Property of The Hollows." My once-sharp mind shattered, my identity erased. I became a feral, cowering creature, unable to comprehend the monstrous injustice. How could my family, my beloved Ethan, mistake my horrific abuse for madness, my broken pleas for manipulative acts? Why did they choose to believe the twisted narrative of my venomous sister? When Ethan and Sam finally came to retrieve me, repulsed by the shattered woman before them, my raw, branded body was exposed during a cruel "penance" ritual. With nothing left but shame and despair, I lunged towards the cliff's edge, escaping their judgment, escaping everything, by throwing myself into the raging abyss below.

I woke up in a hospital, my past a blank beyond my 18th year. The doctor said I was 27, even a talented architect, and married. But the woman they introduced as my wife, Sophia, was a cold, stunning stranger. She looked at me with thinly veiled contempt. She spoke of my nine lost years as a descent into breakdowns and "pathetic" dependence. My supposed best friend, Ethan Vance, was her true confidante, a smirking rival. Disgust curdled in my gut. This wasn't me. My 18-year-old self, full of ambition and drive, recoiled from this emasculated shadow of a man they described. How could I have become a "kept man," constantly ridiculed, chasing the approval of an ice queen? The humiliation was palpable, preserved in flashed cameras and casual insults. But this amnesia, this blank slate, felt like a gift. It stripped away the years of self-erasure, leaving behind only the core of who I was. And that core wanted nothing to do with this suffocating, demeaning life. "I want a divorce," I told her, my voice surprisingly firm. "The me I know wouldn't be married to someone who calls him pathetic." This was no act, no episode. This was me, fighting to reclaim a life I didn't remember. A life free from the woman who claimed to be my wife and the rival who wanted me utterly destroyed. Little did I know, the fight for my true identity would lead to a bloody confrontation and a shocking revelation that would change everything.

The heavy scent of grilled meat and expensive cologne filled the private room at Harris' Steakhouse. My tech CEO husband, Mark, called it a "boys' night out," but I was there, a silent fixture at the dark wood table, habitually ignored. His tech bro friends, Kevin and Josh, flanked him, their laughter growing too loud. Then, in a momentary lull, I calmly stated, "I' m thinking about it too," referring to getting a divorce. The entire table erupted, not in surprise, but in loud, condescending laughter, Mark' s the loudest of all. He wiped a tear from his eye and sneered, "You? Divorce me? What do you have without me, Sarah? You dropped out of Vassar, remember? For me. You think you can survive for a week without my money?" His friend Kevin, already flushed from too much wine, then slurred a public dare, "If you actually divorce Mark, I swear, I' ll live-stream chugging a blended concoction of the grossest things!" They truly believed I was a fragile, dependent ornament, easily controlled. They saw only a trophy wife, utterly incapable of independent thought or action. They didn't see the cold, hard knot of pure resolve tightening inside my gut. They certainly didn't know about the countless hours I'd spent in our Atherton mansion's library, diligently studying California community property law. A tiny, almost imperceptible smile touched my lips as I met their gazes. "No, Mark," I said, standing slowly, my voice cool and even, "I don' t think I will apologize; in fact, I've already had divorce papers drawn up." My lawyer would be in touch with his. Weeks later, when his young intern, Tiffany, smugly tried to announce her fake pregnancy at a family dinner, I exposed Mark's zero sperm count to his horrified mother and everyone present. They had utterly underestimated me, and my meticulously researched plan to reclaim my life had just begun.

Lucille was one of the most skilled female assassins, and on the previous night, she embarked on a top-secret mission. However, the mission's details were leaked, leading to her untimely demise at the hands of a traitorous companion. She never discovered the identity of the person who betrayed her before her death. But by some miracle, she was granted a new life, and was reborn as a girl with the same name. Determined to uncover the truth and seek revenge for her family, Lucille seized her second chance at life. She planned to avenge her loved ones. However, her plans were complicated by Joseph, an apparently frail man who was actually skilled in martial arts. And he seemed to fall for her deeply, now this newfound knowledge only added to the complications of Lucille's revenge plan...

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.

"I heard you're going to marry Marcelo. Is this perhaps your revenge against me? It's very laughable, Renee. That man can barely function." Her foster family, her cheating ex, everyone thought Renee was going to live in pure hell after getting married to a disabled and cruel man. She didn't know if anything good would ever come out of it after all, she had always thought it would be hard for anyone to love her but this cruel man with dark secrets is never going to grant her a divorce because she makes him forget how to breathe.

Madison had always believed that she would marry Colten. She spent her youth admiring him from afar, dreaming of their future life together. But Colten was always indifferent to her, and when he abandoned her at a time when she needed him most, she finally realized that he never loved her. With renewed resolve and a thirst for revenge, Madison left. Endless possibilities lay ahead, but Colten was no longer part of her plans. Colten rushed to her place in a panic. "Madison, please come back to me. I’ll give you everything!" It was his powerful uncle who answered the door. "She's my woman now."

The whispers said that out of bitter jealousy, Hadley shoved Eric's beloved down the stairs, robbing the unborn child of life. To avenge, Eric forced Hadley abroad and completely cut her off. Years later, she reemerged, and they felt like strangers. When they met again, she was the nightclub's star, with men ready to pay fortunes just to glimpse her elusive performance. Unable to contain himself, Eric blocked her path, asking, "Is this truly how you earn a living now? Why not come back to me?" Hadley's lips curved faintly. "If you’re eager to see me, you’d better join the queue, darling."

To the public, she was the CEO's executive secretary. Behind closed doors, she was the wife he never officially acknowledged. Jenessa was elated when she learned that she was pregnant. But that joy was replaced with dread as her husband, Ryan, showered his affections on his first love. With a heavy heart, she chose to set him free and leave. When they met again, Ryan's attention was caught by Jenessa's protruding belly. "Whose child are you carrying?!" he demanded. But she only scoffed. "It's none of your business, my dear ex-husband!"