Too Late, Mr. Vanderbilt

Seven years. That's how long I'd been with Sarah, building a future, planning our wedding. Meeting her parents formally was supposed to be a joyous step, a celebration of us. But at dinner, Sarah casually suggested a terrifying plan: mortgaging or selling the townhouse-the one I paid for-to fund her deceased brother's friend's dubious startup. Her parents enthusiastically agreed, openly admiring the 'visionary' friend, David. They dismissed my shock as "selfishness," accusing me of caring "always about money." Sarah herself rolled her eyes, questioning my "support." Then, they ambushed me at my college, publicly humiliating me with baseless accusations of emotional abuse and fraud. My career, built on years of hard work as an adjunct professor, hung by a thread. How could the woman I loved betray me so utterly for mere convenience and blind family loyalty? Were my life savings, my future, so easily disposable to them? The injustice burned, revealing a deep-seated contempt I never truly saw. I cancelled the wedding, ready to fight for what was mine. But just as her CEO prepared to reprimand me, a sleek black car pulled up, and a quiet man stepped out, about to expose a secret that would shake their world to its core. They had no idea who they were really dealing with.

My marriage to Mark seemed solid, our life comfortable, until his college reunion. I was there as the supportive wife, trying to ignore a growing unease. Then I saw him, too close to Jessica, his high school sweetheart and now his sister-in-law. The "Ten-Year Love Blueprint" he' d detailed for her-not me-was just the first blow. That night, I found Jessica kissing my drunk husband in our home, then overheard the devastating truth: her son, Kevin, was Mark' s, not his brother' s. My perfectly constructed life imploded as Mark dismissed my pain and his mother furiously defended his affair. A reckless car crash, caused by Jessica, led to my miscarriage; Mark, shockingly, blamed me, then his mother coldly announced, "You weren't strong enough." Even my own parents, dependent on Mark's generous support, disowned me for daring to expose his betrayal. Abandoned and broken, the injustice was crushing: how could everyone I loved betray me so completely, leaving me a disposable substitute in a life that was never truly mine? The agony of losing everything, especially my baby, felt unbearable. But a fateful accident unexpectedly offered a dark opportunity for ultimate escape and rebirth, transforming me into a vengeful phantom armed with a meticulous plan for absolute justice.

My life was perfect. I was Sarah, a loving mom, taking my sweet six-year-old Lily to Kids' Kraft Korner, all smiles and glitter castles. In an instant, my world shattered. A bloodcurdling scream. I raced back inside to find Lily' s lifeless body, her head gone, crafting shears beside her. My heart died. The real nightmare began. My best friend, Jessica, shrieked, pointing at me. Detective Harding arrested me. My own husband, David, abandoned me, highlighting my past postpartum depression. The media branded me a monster; "Suburban Mother Snaps, Murders Daughter" screamed headlines, bolstered by manipulated footage and a janitor's twisted testimony. Under relentless accusations, I plunged into a torturous haze. Dr. Peterson, a psychologist David suggested, hypnotized me. Horrifying images flooded my mind: me, holding the shears, filled with rage, striking Lily. I confessed, truly believing the implanted memory, convinced I was a child killer. The "recalled" physical evidence-Lily' s head, found exactly where I "remembered" it-seemed to seal my monstrous fate. I was lost in self-loathing. Still, even through the despair, a tiny flicker of inner doubt persisted. Could I really have done this? Then, as I was dragged to court, I saw Jessica in the crowd. She wasn't yelling. She was smiling. A small, smug, triumphant smile. It wasn't my madness. That hateful smile ignited something raw. "You did this, Jessica! You set me up!" I screamed, tearing at my restraints. "She's having an affair with my husband! David is the father of her son!" My desperate accusation, fueled by rage, finally started to unravel the terrifying conspiracy, pulling me from the abyss of my false memory.

Just a week after my son Leo was born, as I navigated the raw grief of losing my parents and the overwhelming exhaustion of new motherhood, a seemingly innocuous email landed in my inbox, poised to shatter the quiet sanctuary of my inherited Boston home. Addressed to "Ms. Sarah Connelly, parent of Maya," it was a welcome message from the city's most prestigious charter school-for a child I didn't know, shockingly enrolled using my name and my address, a stunt orchestrated by none other than my own husband, Mark, for his colleague Brenda's daughter. His casual dismissals-"She' s a struggling single mom," "She' s vital to my team," said with infuriating nonchalance-masked outright gaslighting, culminating in a public display of affection where Brenda flaunted the custom anniversary watch I'd bought him, proving his betrayal went deeper than I could have imagined. How could the man I loved, the partner who once climbed an icy fire escape to comfort me in my darkest hour, betray me so audaciously, choosing a manipulative colleague over his wife and newborn son, then abandon us when she needed him again? But betrayal cannot break what is truly yours. My house, my name, my son. The first call was to my lawyer. This was no longer just about anger; it was about reclaiming my life, exposing their manipulative scheme, and building a new future on my terms, brick by painful brick.

I just closed a fifty-million-dollar deal for Innovatech Solutions, the company I co-founded with my wife, Jess. My team, the Trailblazers, cheered as Jess, our CEO, hugged me, promising a "really special bonus." That bonus was a crudely drawn Sharpie watch on my wrist and a flimsy "next year" promise. Later, my blood froze seeing Liam Walker, her incompetent "Executive Assistant," beaming with keys to a company-leased Porsche, courtesy of Jess. His Instagram: "Real love means exclusive pampering. #BestBoss." Humiliation burned as Jess frantically spun excuses, then offered me the baby I' d always wanted if I' d "unlike" the post. When I refused, she retaliated, punishing my loyal team while Liam' s cronies went untouched. "You'll get over it," she snapped, hanging up. The Porsche was just the latest, undeniable symbol of her two-faced hypocrisy and a years-long affair. My love for the woman I married had completely evaporated, replaced by a profound, weary exhaustion. I was done enabling her narcissism, done absorbing her endless betrayals. "Let's just get a divorce," I told her, my voice flat and final. Then, I called Innovatech' s biggest competitor, ready to secure not just my future, but my entire team's, forcing her to finally face the consequences.

My world with Chloe revolved around our eagerly awaited baby, our future taking happy shape with every nursery plan. An Instagram tag from her popped up then, a seemingly innocent ping. I opened it, and the image delivered a brutal, physical blow, vaporizing my reality. Chloe lay pale but smiling in a hospital bed, holding hands with her ex-husband Mark, in the bed beside her. The caption read: "This time, I'm choosing to be brave for love." My mind reeled: a bone marrow donor? Where was our baby? Comments hailed her a hero, oblivious to the life she'd just ended, never telling me. She returned, demanding comfort, yet casually dismissed my silent agony over our lost child. Her shocking nonchalance toward our baby' s life ignited a silent, seething rage deep inside me. I finally grasped that my unwavering kindness had enabled her, teaching her that monumental betrayals carried no real consequences. How could she expect recovery meals after such a horrific, selfish act? Staring at the stranger in my wife's eyes, the illusion shattered. "I want a divorce," I declared, beginning my fight to reclaim my shattered life.

Life was perfect until she met her boyfriend's big brother. There was a forbidden law in the Night Shade Pack that if the head Alpha rejected his mate, he would be stripped of his position. Sophia's life would get connected with the law. She was an Omega who was dating the head Alpha's younger brother. Bryan Morrison, the head Alpha, was not only a cold-blooded man but also a charming business tycoon. His name was enough to cause other packs to tremble. He was known as a ruthless man. What if, by some twist of destiny, Sophia's path were to intertwine with his?

Madisyn was stunned to discover that she was not her parents' biological child. Due to the real daughter's scheming, she was kicked out and became a laughingstock. Thought to be born to peasants, Madisyn was shocked to find that her real father was the richest man in the city, and her brothers were renowned figures in their respective fields. They showered her with love, only to learn that Madisyn had a thriving business of her own. "Stop pestering me!" said her ex-boyfriend. "My heart only belongs to Jenna." "How dare you think that my woman has feelings for you?" claimed a mysterious bigwig.

She spent ten years chasing after the right brother, only to fall for the wrong one in one weekend. ~~~ Sloane Mercer has been hopelessly in love with her best friend, Finn Hartley, since college. For ten long years, she's stood by him, stitching him back together every time Delilah Crestfield-his toxic on-and-off girlfriend-shattered his heart. But when Delilah gets engaged to another man, Sloane thinks this might finally be her chance to have Finn for herself. She couldn't be more wrong. Heartbroken and desperate, Finn decides to crash Delilah's wedding and fight for her one last time. And he wants Sloane by his side. Reluctantly, Sloane follows him to Asheville, hoping that being close to Finn will somehow make him see her the way she's always seen him. Everything changes when she meets Knox Hartley, Finn's older brother-a man who couldn't be more different from Finn. He's dangerously magnetic. Knox sees right through Sloane and makes it his mission to pull her into his world. What starts as a game-a twisted bet between them-soon turns into something deeper. Sloane is trapped between two brothers: one who's always broken her heart and another who seems hell-bent on claiming it... no matter the cost. CONTENT WARNING: This story is strongly 18+. It delves into dark romance themes such as obsession and lust with morally complex characters. While this is a love story, reader discretion is advised.  

Rumors claimed that Fernanda, newly back with her family, was nothing more than a violent country bumpkin. Fernanda just flashed a casual, dismissive grin in response. Another rumor suggested that the usually rational Cristian had lost all sense, madly in love with Fernanda. This frustrated her. She could tolerate gossip about herself, but slander against her beloved crossed the line! Gradually, as Fernanda's multiple identities as a celebrated designer, a savvy gamer, an acclaimed painter, and a successful business magnate came to light, everyone realized they were the ones who had been fooled.

Sawyer, the world's top arms dealer, stunned everyone by falling for Maren—the worthless girl no one respected. People scoffed. Why chase a useless pretty face? But when powerful elites began gathering around her, jaws dropped. "She's not even married to him yet—already cashing in on his power?" they assumed. Curious eyes dug into Maren's past... only to find she was a scientific genius, a world-renowned medical expert, and heiress to a mafia empire. Later, Sawyer posted online. "My wife treats me like the enemy. Any advice?"

Forced out of a mental hospital by her family, Nicole was made to marry Aidan-reputed to be disabled-in her sister's place. The public ridiculed their union: a so-called lunatic and a cripple. What they didn't know was that Nicole had a sharp mind, countless talents, and secret identities. High society sneered at her unruly behavior, but Aidan always took her side. "My wife is too fragile to hurt anyone," he'd say. But soon- "Sir, your wife destroyed someone's house!" "Let her." "Sir, your wife ran away!" He arrived at the airport with two adorable kids in tow, pleading, "Sweetheart, come back. You can punish me however you want." Nicole froze. Wait-where did these two adorable little troublemakers come from?