Wreckage of a Marriage

The antiseptic smell of the hospital clung to me as I watched my brother, Leo, fight for every shallow breath-his life fading, his only hope an experimental surgery with an impossible price tag. My art, once my passion, gathered dust, while my father' s legacy, his architectural masterpiece, was brazenly stolen. Julian Vance, my father' s apprentice, stood before the towering Skyline Spire, a perfect replica of my dad' s unpatented dream, "Helios." He smiled, sharp and confident, taking all the credit at its grand unveiling. Rage, hot and sharp, coursed through me. He had stolen my dying father's masterpiece, building an empire while Leo lay dying. I confronted him, shouting the truth amidst flashing cameras. He dismissed me as distraught, a hysterical girl consumed by grief, his hand on my shoulder a public brand of instability. The crowd believed him, the powerful mogul, not the desperate girl in frayed denim. His eyes, though, flickered with a fleeting, inner turmoil that I inexplicably heard, a frantic whisper of guilt and terror. Humiliated, abandoned by my own family who valued Julian' s influence over my truth, I stumbled into the cold night. A sharp pain seized my chest, and blood stained my palm. It wasn't just Leo who was sick; I was too, and time was running out. He bought my silence, evicted me, and forced me into his gilded cage. I was now his servant, subjected to endless degradation by his cruel lover, Isabella, and Julian himself, whose every action, though outwardly cold, seemed driven by a terrifying internal war. I found myself trapped, desperately trying to survive, with a new life unexpectedly growing inside me, a secret I couldn't keep.

The plane ride felt endless, but a rush of excitement washed over me, eager to see my Uncle Julian, the man who' d raised me since my parents died. I pictured his welcoming smile, the scent of turpentine, the way he' d call me his "little artist." But the grand foyer greeted me with an unsettling silence instead of his usual classical music. Then I saw them: Julian, his hands covering a woman' s visibly pregnant stomach, his head bent, whispering, before a slow, tender kiss that shattered my world. My suitcase, filled with paintings for him, crashed to the marble floor, but the expected scream or tears never came. Instead, a chilling calm settled over me as I simply nodded, congratulating them both, while Julian stared, expecting a scene I' d given him countless times in another life. That vivid phantom memory, a brutal replay of past heartbreak where I' d screamed, pleaded, and ultimately lost everything – my art, my self-respect, my will to live – became my shield. It was a ghost, a warning. This time, I wouldn' t make the same mistake. This time, I chose to let go and disappear from a life that was never truly mine.

The cold floor bit into Chloe' s cheek as rough hands pulled at her, accusations screaming in her ears – accusations of ruining lives, of being a disgrace. Suddenly, her eyes snapped open to sunlight streaming through her window, the familiar comfort of her own bed; she was back. But the relief was fleeting as the news anchor's voice cut through the quiet night, detailing a scandalous video of her, filmed at the prestigious Hawthorne Hotel, showing illicit activities that had gone viral. Her phone exploded with a torrent of hate, each comment a sharp object piercing her, while her fiancé, Mark, stormed in, his eyes blazing, demanding answers and throwing his phone down to reveal the damning video, accusing her of everything. Even as police detailed irrefutable evidence of her presence with DNA, timestamps, and surveillance footage, she knew it was impossible-she had been home all day-and a chilling impossibility settled over her as a desperate thought began to form: how could it be her, yet not be her?

Seven years ago, I was Jocelyn Fuller, a girl desperate for love, standing in front of Ethan Lester' s apartment, begging him not to leave. He looked down at me, his face cold, and uttered words that shattered my world: "Don't be naive, Jocelyn. We're from different worlds." He took the money my father offered and vanished, leaving me so broken I tried to end my life twice. The devastation didn't just fade; it festered, hardening me into the CEO of Fuller Properties, a name synonymous with power in New York real estate. Now, Ethan Lester stands outside my skyscraper, looking up with desperate hope, roles agonizingly reversed. I made him wait for five hours in the freezing wind, just as I had waited for him, relishing the chilling echo of my past pain. I wanted to know why he had abandoned me, why he chose money over our love, and why he looked so utterly defeated now. This time, the game was on my terms, and his payment was just beginning in a meticulously cruel revenge.

The afternoon sun warmed my art studio, a sanctuary I' d built for myself, far from my chaotic family. Life was good, my canvas humming with color, ready for final touches. Then, the phone rang, a cold dread seizing me as Leo' s name flashed across the screen. He demanded money, as always, his voice a familiar, entitled growl. Our conversation was sharp, escalating quickly, ending with his chilling threat: "I'm outside your building. Come down here right now, or I'm coming up." A cold fear snaked down my spine; this was my sanctuary, not his to invade. He was waiting, his face thin and angry. When I refused him, he sneered, calling me "little miss perfect artist," shoving me. I stumbled, caught off balance, and then he shoved me again, harder. I fell backward, right into the street. Everything happened at once: the screech of tires, a blaring horn, blinding headlights. A massive force slammed into me, pain exploding through every nerve. Then, only darkness. I died. But then I opened my eyes. Confined to a tiny, unfamiliar body, in my old childhood bedroom, the calendar on the wall screamed 2007. I was seven years old again. It wasn't a dream. It was a second chance. A chance to change everything. A chance to stop Leo from becoming the monster who would one day cause my death.

I had given ten years of my life to Scott & Associates, a law firm I built from the ground up, making myself indispensable as their senior paralegal and handling everything from client intake to IT. My boss, Mr. Scott, had promised me a partnership for years, a dream I clung to, along with my significant five-figure Christmas bonus that barely acknowledged my worth. Then, his newly-graduated niece, Madisyn, arrived as "Operations Manager" and immediately announced a drastic, public pay cut, effective immediately. The harassment began almost instantly-forced to clean toilets, fix jammed copiers, and endure petty humiliations while Mr. Scott watched and approved. But the real blow came when I learned Madisyn had slashed my bonus from five figures to a mere thousand dollars, falsely accusing me of laziness to justify her actions. Every shred of loyalty I had withered, replaced by a cold fury at their betrayal and utter disregard for my dedication. They had no idea what they had just unleashed. I didn't just quit; I walked out, knowing my meticulous records would soon expose their financial crimes and tear their entire empire down.

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?

Darya spent three years loving Micah, worshipping the ground he walked on. Until his neglect and his family's abuse finally woke her up to the ugly truth-he doesn't love her. Never did, never will. To her, he is a hero, her knight in shining armour. To him, she is an opportunist, a gold digger who schemed her way into his life. Darya accepts the harsh reality, gathers the shattered pieces of her dignity, divorces him, takes back her real name, reclaims her title as the country's youngest billionaire heiress. Their paths cross again at a party. Micah watches his ex-wife sing like an angel, tear up the dance floor, then thwart a lecher with a roundhouse kick. He realises, belatedly, that she's exactly the kind of woman he'd want to marry, if only he had taken the trouble to get to know her. Micah acts promptly to win her back, but discovers she's now surrounded by eligible bachelors: high-powered CEO, genius biochemist, award-winning singer, reformed playboy. Worse, she makes it pretty clear that she's done with him. Micah gears up for an uphill battle. He must prove to her he's still worthy of her love before she falls for someone else. And time is running out.

It was supposed to be a marriage of convenience, but Carrie made the mistake of falling in love with Kristopher. When the time came that she needed him the most, her husband was in the company of another woman. Enough was enough. Carrie chose to divorce Kristopher and move on with her life. Only when she left did Kristopher realize how important she was to him. In the face of his ex-wife’s countless admirers, Kristopher offered her 20 million dollars and proposed a new deal. “Let’s get married again.”

After hiding her true identity throughout her three-year marriage to Colton, Allison had committed wholeheartedly, only to find herself neglected and pushed toward divorce. Disheartened, she set out to rediscover her true self-a talented perfumer, the mastermind of a famous intelligence agency, and the heir to a secret hacker network. Realizing his mistakes, Colton expressed his regret. "I know I messed up. Please, give me another chance." Yet, Kellan, a once-disabled tycoon, stood up from his wheelchair, took Allison's hand, and scoffed dismissively, "You think she'll take you back? Dream on."

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!"

After two years of marriage, Sadie was finally pregnant. Filled with hope and joy, she was blindsided when Noah asked for a divorce. During a failed attempt on her life, Sadie found herself lying in a pool of blood, desperately calling Noah to ask him to save her and the baby. But her calls went unanswered. Shattered by his betrayal, she left the country. Time passed, and Sadie was about to be wed for a second time. Noah appeared in a frenzy and fell to his knees. "How dare you marry someone else after bearing my child?"