My Billionaire Roommate's Secret

I was Caroline Devereaux, New Orleans' formidable state senator, and my life was a calculated masterpiece of power and prestige. My marriage to Julian Boudreaux, though arranged, was merely another conquest, and I treated my sickly husband with the disdain he deserved for his family's past sins. I watched his cough worsen, dismissed his pleas, stripped him of his inheritance, and systematically dismantled his family, reveling in their ruin. When he knelt in the rain for his dying grandfather, begging for life-saving medicine, I had Leo smash it before his eyes. I broke him, watched his grandfather and sister die, and finally, saw him take his own life in despair, fleeing me even in death. Then, the world shattered. I woke to the sound of jazz, the smell of wilting flowers, and the chilling realization that it was my wedding day-four years ago. I was given a second chance, thrown back into the life I had so utterly destroyed. Now, with the memory of his death haunting me, and Julian's cold, knowing eyes meeting mine, I know I must undo everything. This time, I will not only save him but protect my heart and the man I never knew I loved.

I woke with the violent jolt of the plane landing, but it wasn't the impact that shocked me deeply; it was the chilling, immediate memory of icy black water filling my lungs as an anchor dragged me down. My husband, Captain Mark Vance, watched from the boat with eyes as blank as a winter sky-the last sight before my first life ended ten years ago. Miraculously, incomprehensibly, I was alive, but the life I' d returned to was a meticulously crafted lie built on my erased existence. My husband and best friend, Ashley Barnes, had stolen my identity, swindled my parents, and even sent my brilliant young daughter, Chloe, to a brutal camp, twisting her trauma into a story of her mother's "psychotic break." Now, they flaunted a lavish life built on my ruin, with my very own child reduced to a bruised, silent servant in her own home, while guests used my family heirlooms for cheap hors d'oeuvres. The betrayal was a deep, burning wound, but the sight of Chloe' s thin, bruised arms ignited a pure, glacial rage within me, a fury that promised a reckoning far colder than any Alaskan winter. How could they stand so proudly, so shamelessly, after committing such unspeakable atrocities against me and my child? This was no longer a scientist returning home; it was a ghost resurrected, armored by ten years of accumulated savings and a thirst for justice. I walked into their opulent party, not for revenge, but to reclaim what was mine, armed with the truth and a fury that would shatter their carefully constructed world. Tonight, the perfect facade they' d built would be exposed, and they would finally face the woman they thought they' d killed.

Fifty million dollars. My cracked phone screen showed the winning Powerball numbers, confirming an impossible match. Twenty years a ghost, living paycheck to paycheck in a tiny Brooklyn apartment, and now, I held the key to a new life. But the buzz of my phone pulled me back to a familiar nightmare. It was Brenda, my "adoptive" mother, calling with fake sympathy, quickly turning to thinly veiled greed for money for my "father's" liver transplant. When I calmly told her I had won the lottery, her manufactured panic vanished, replaced by an ugly, avaricious gasp. My refusal to hand over a single cent unleashed a public tirade; soon, I was plastered across every news channel, dubbed the "Powerball Parasite," buying Birkin bags while my "dying dad" lay in a hospital bed. The world hated me, calling me a monster. Every comment was a venomous stab, every headline a condemnation. They didn't understand the icy calm behind my eyes, the cold precision of my actions. They saw heartless cruelty; I saw the meticulously laid foundation for a justice long overdue. Why would I invite such public scorn? Why play the villain? Because this wasn't some selfish whim. This was a calculated strike. And when the invitation came from 'The Dr. Grant Show' – Brenda's last desperate plea – I knew it was time for the world to see the truth. Not just my truth, but their truth.

I am Echo, born of forgotten children's whispers, and for centuries, I've seen only the transactional nature of human love. A chance at freedom from Purgatory appeared: assume the form of five-year-old Lily for three days. If her brother or mother truly recognized me, I could stay, finally knowing what true connection felt like. But stepping into the vibrant human world as Lily, I became an immediate pawn. Her wealthy brother, Ethan, saw not his sister, but a medical solution-a bone marrow donor for his "real sunflower." He locked me away, labeling me "the donor" and "secured," completely devoid of familial affection. Later, her politically calculating mother, Katherine, eyed me with suspicion, dismissing me as a cruel stunt arranged by her rivals. My every attempt to rekindle their memories-a shared friendship bracelet, a secret four-leaf clover-was met with cold accusations. I was imprisoned, treated as a tool, and nearly forced into a painful medical procedure. During a terrifying earthquake, Ethan abandoned me without a glance; my mother violently shoved me away, convinced I was a political weapon. How could they know all Lily's secrets, her cherished tokens, yet gaze through me as if I were nothing more than an empty shell? The love I craved, the recognition I desperately pursued, seemed to vanish the moment it flickered. My cynicism, once a shield, became a crushing weight; they recognized the symbols, but utterly failed to see the soul. At the stroke of midnight, as my test hung on a thread of their persistent doubt, the true Lily' s spirit appeared. And in that instant, without a single question or a need for proof, Ethan and Katherine recognized her, unconditionally. This pure, undeniable love, transcending physical form, shattered my entire understanding of existence. Now, faced with this profound truth and an unimaginable choice, my story-and theirs-was destined for a miraculous, unforeseen path.

The last thing I saw was Maverick' s powerful hooves, descending on me. I was back, gasping, the thick scent of magnolias filling my lungs at the Claiming Ceremony – the day my life fell apart. Maverick, the champion I had raised from a foal, trotted straight to Charlotte, nuzzling her hand in a blatant act of public rejection. My father, Richard, placed a hand on my shoulder, his grip tight, announcing, "Charlotte has a special connection. You're the older sister, let her have him. It' s for the good of the family's reputation." The jockey I' d helped sneered, "A champion horse needs a champion rider." Charlotte's friends chimed in with fake sympathy, insisting I was never strong enough, that I would have held him back. The humiliation was a physical weight, but this time, in my second chance, I felt only a cold resolve. My father pushed, trying to salvage his scheme, offering me the sickly, seemingly worthless colt, Ash, in exchange. Everyone pitied the broken girl being cast aside, agreeing I was walking away empty-handed. But kneeling beside Ash, I felt a faint, familiar warmth, a deep connection confirming what I suspected: he was my mother' s true legacy, the horse she had left for me. Charlotte, arrogant in her victory, declared, "Let' s perform the bonding ritual now, so everyone can see the true bond between a rider and her horse." I stood, a slow smile spreading across my face. "I agree."

The Fourth of July weekend at our family lake house was supposed to be a peaceful escape with my daughter, Chloe, away from work, calls, and my husband, Mike. It was our sanctuary, smelling of pine and quietude. But then, a vulgar luxury boat cut through the calm, bringing Mike' s flashy mistress, Tiffany Vance, and his crude, new-money investor, "Big Rick" Santoro, directly to our private dock. They trespassed, shattering our peace with their loud music and condescending stares. Tiffany insulted my "rustic" appearance, implying I was merely Mike' s property. Big Rick' s predatory gaze lingered on my eight-year-old daughter, Chloe, who was swimming. Then, Tiffany dared Chloe to perform a dangerous, fifteen-foot dive for his amusement. When I tried to intervene, silent security guards blocked me, and Mike arrived, not to help, but to scold me for "making a scene." Worse, he then pressured Chloe himself, viewing his own terrified child as a mere pawn for "his business deal." My heart didn't break; it turned to ice. The man I had secretly built felt no loyalty, only contempt, for his family. How could the man I loved betray us so casually, willing to trade his daughter' s fear for a business deal? This wasn't just a marriage; it was a grotesque parody orchestrated by him. That was the moment. With a hand steady as stone, I reached into my sundress pocket for the simple device that would reclaim everything. Mike had no idea whose world he was truly living in.

"Lucien, let's get a divorce," I said in a peremptory tone that was long overdue, the most decisive farewell to this absurd marriage. We had been married for exactly three years-three years that, for me, were filled with nothing but endless loneliness and torment. For three years, the husband who should have stood by my side through every storm, Lucien Sullivan, had completely disappeared from my life as if he had never existed. He vanished without a trace, leaving me alone to endure this empty, desolate marriage. Today, I finally received his message: "I'm back. Come pick me up at the airport." When I read his words, my heart leapt with joy, and I raced to the airport, thinking that he finally understood my love and was coming back to me. But his cruelty was far worse than I could have ever imagined-he was accompanied by a pregnant woman, and that woman was Carla, my closest and most trusted friend. In that moment, all of my previous excitement, all my hope, and all of our shared laughter and tears turned into the sharpest of daggers, stabbing into my heart and leaving me gasping for air. Now, all I want is to escape from this place that has left me so broken-to lick my wounds in solitude. Even if these wounds will remain with me for the rest of my life, I refuse to have anything to do with him ever again. He should know that it was his own hand that trampled our love underfoot, that his coldness and betrayal created this irreparable situation. But when he heard those words, he desperately clung to this broken, crumbling marriage, unwilling to let it end-almost as though doing so could rewind time and return everything to how it used to be. "Aurora, come back. I regret everything!" Regret? Those simple words stirred no emotion in me-only endless sadness and fury. My heart let out a frantic, desperate scream: It's too late for any of this!

Lyric had spent her life being hated. Bullied for her scarred face and hated by everyone-including her own mate-she was always told she was ugly. Her mate only kept her around to gain territory, and the moment he got what he wanted, he rejected her, leaving her broken and alone. Then, she met him. The first man to call her beautiful. The first man to show her what it felt like to be loved. It was only one night, but it changed everything. For Lyric, he was a saint, a savior. For him, she was the only woman that had ever made him cum in bed-a problem he had been battling for years. Lyric thought her life would finally be different, but like everyone else in her life, he lied. And when she found out who he really was, she realized he wasn't just dangerous-he was the kind of man you don't escape from. Lyric wanted to run. She wanted freedom. But she desired to navigate her way and take back her respect, to rise above the ashes. Eventually, she was forced into a dark world she didn't wish to get involved with.

Allison fell in love with Ethan Iversen, the soon-to-be Alpha of the Moonlight Crown pack. She always wanted him to notice her. Meanwhile, Ethan was an arrogant Alpha who thought a weak Omega could not be his companion.  Ethan's cousin, Ryan Iversen, who came back from abroad and was the actual heir of the pack, never tried to get the position nor did he show any interest in it. He was a popular playboy Alpha but when he came back to the pack, one thing captured his eyes and that was Allison.

My wedding to Ethan Reed was just weeks away. After seven years, I was certain of our perfect future. Then, Ethan claimed "selective amnesia" from a head injury, forgetting only me. I tried to make him remember, until I overheard his video call. "Total genius move," he boasted to friends. His amnesia was a fake "hall pass" to pursue influencer Chloe Vance before our wedding. Heartbroken, I feigned belief. I endured his open flirting with Chloe and their taunting selfies. He mocked my distress, prioritizing Chloe's fake emergency. After an accident he caused, he abandoned me, injured, choosing to send Chloe to the hospital first. He even tried to cut me off financially. How could my fiancé be this cruel, calculating monster? His betrayal poisoned every memory. I felt like a fool for trusting such boundless cruelty. His audacity left me reeling. But I wouldn’t be his victim. Instead of breaking, a cold plan formed. I would shed my identity, become Olivia Carter. I would disappear, leaving him, my past, and his engagement ring behind forever, claiming my freedom.

At their wedding night, Kayla caught her brand-new husband cheating. Reeling and half-drunk, she staggered into the wrong suite and collapsed into a stranger's arms. Sunrise brought a pounding head-and the discovery she was pregnant. The father? A supremely powerful tycoon who happened to be her husband's ruthless uncle. Panicked, she tried to run, but he barred the door with a faint, dangerous smile. When the cheating ex begged, Kayla lifted her chin and declared, "Want a second chance at us? Ask your uncle." The tycoon pulled her close. "She's my wife now." The ex gasped, "What!?"

PERMISSION IS TAKEN FRIM THE ORIGINAL, BE WARNED!! Do you believe in Myths? Just when she thinks it can't get any worse, it does. Lucy lost everything four years ago in a rogue attack. She's been abused, starved, rejected, and broken. As her eighteenth birthday approaches, strange things start to happen, things that only happen once every century. She finds friendship in the most unlikely place and escapes to find her true self with the help of the most dangerous Alpha. Warning: This werewolf trilogy is not intended for anyone under the age of 18 or anyone who doesn't enjoy a good spanking. It will take you on adventures around the world, make you laugh, fall in love, crush your heart and possibly leave you drooling.