My Husband Fall In Love With That Sponsored Student

My world revolved around Jax Harding, my older brother's captivating rockstar friend. From sixteen, I adored him; at eighteen, I clung to his casual promise: "When you're 22, maybe I'll settle down." That offhand comment became my life's beacon, guiding every choice, meticulously planning my twenty-second birthday as our destiny. But on that pivotal day in a Lower East Side bar, clutching my gift, my dream exploded. I overheard Jax' s cold voice: "Can't believe Savvy's showing up. She' s still hung up on that stupid thing I said." Then the crushing plot: "We' re gonna tell Savvy I' m engaged to Chloe, maybe even hint she' s pregnant. That should scare her off." My gift, my future, slipped from my numb fingers. I fled into the cold New York rain, devastated by betrayal. Later, Jax introduced Chloe as his "fiancée" while his bandmates mocked my "adorable crush"-he did nothing. As an art installation fell, he saved Chloe, abandoning me to severe injury. In the hospital, he came for "damage control," then shockingly shoved me into a fountain, leaving me to bleed, calling me a "jealous psycho." How could the man I loved, who once saved me, become this cruel and publicly humiliate me? Why was my devotion seen as an annoyance to be brutally extinguished with lies and assault? Was I just a problem, my loyalty met with hatred? I would not be his victim. Injured and betrayed, I made an unshakeable vow: I was done. I blocked his number and everyone connected to him, severing ties. This was not an escape; this was my rebirth. Florence awaited, a new life on my terms, unburdened by broken promises.

Ava Rodriguez clawed for breath, her chest a suffocating vise. Her six-year-old, Leo, watched, his face pale with terror. Anaphylactic shock. Rapidly worsening. She choked out her husband Mark's name, begging him to call 911. “Mommy can't breathe!" Leo cried into the phone. But Mark, busy "networking" with his mistress Chloe, dismissed it casually as a "panic attack." Minutes later, he called back: the ambulance he'd supposedly called for Ava was now diverted to Chloe, who had only "tripped" and twisted her ankle. Ava’s world fractured. Leo, a hero in his small heart, raced out for help, only to be hit by a car. A sickening thud. She watched, a ghost in her own tragedy, as paramedics covered his small, broken body. Her son was gone, because Mark chose Chloe. Devastation. Horror. Guilt. The image of Leo haunted her, a searing brand. How could a father, a husband, be so monstrously selfish? A bitter, consuming regret clawed at her soul. Chloe. Always Chloe. Then, Ava’s eyes snapped open. She was on her living room floor. Leo, alive and well, ran in. It was a terrifying, impossible second chance. That catastrophic future would not happen. She would reclaim her life, protect her son, and make them pay.

The Montauk Highway rain slammed against our windshield, just like my stomach cramped with familiar, sharp pain. Marcus drove, his knuckles white, until his phone flashed 'Izzy.' My husband, always her loyal puppy, was gone in a flash. "Ellie, call an Uber. Izzy needs me," he' d declared, abandoning me sick and alone on that dark road. It was the ninth time Marcus chose his ex-girlfriend over me, his wife. The 'ninth goodbye' in a cruel bet Izzy orchestrated years ago: "Nine times, Ellie. Nine. Then you walk away." Each incident a deeper cut: my anniversary dinner, my emergency surgery, my grandmother' s memorial. I was just his convenient rebound, his 'consolation prize,' a pawn in their twisted game. Days later, after an elevator accident left me shattered and hospitalized, Marcus cradled Izzy, his terror only for her. I finally saw it with chilling clarity: he never truly loved me. My marriage was a meticulously crafted lie, orchestrated by Izzy from college. My love for him, that foolish, stubborn hope, was finally drained, leaving only an aching void. But the game was over. I had already signed the divorce papers he carelessly overlooked, ready for my freedom. When Izzy later set a vicious trap to publicly shame me, accusing me of assault, a mysterious stranger stepped in, changing everything. This was the end of a nightmare, and the beginning of my true life.

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.

The two pink lines on the test stick perfectly embodied five years of quiet hopes and hushed prayers-a dream finally coming true. But that dream shattered when I overheard my husband David, in his study, confessing that she could "never find out," followed by his best friend Liam's horrified reply: "Five years. You' ve been living a double life for five years." Rebecca. The name of the struggling artist my family' s charity had sponsored, the woman David always dismissed with pity, was not only his wife but the mother of his son and heir, Thomas. Not only had my entire marriage been a lie, a performance for his "sweet, trusting" mistress, but I was also carrying the child of a man who secretly plotted: "She can never, ever get pregnant." He had been replacing my birth control pills with placebos for years, orchestrating my pain and feelings of failure, all to protect a life I never knew existed. The final insult came on my birthday, when the Astor sapphire necklace David had "promised" me appeared on Rebecca' s neck, a cruel trophy. And then, she introduced herself: "Thank you… brother-in-law." Something inside me snapped. He thought I was easy. He wanted me to disappear. Fine. I would disappear. I called an old contact, my voice steady, saying: "I need your help. I need to fake my death."

Three years. Three years of marriage to Olivia Reed, the woman who redefined my world. On our anniversary, I went to sign the final papers for our joint asset trust, a mere formality. But the city clerk told me words that shattered my reality: "According to our records, you are not legally married to Olivia Reed." My laughter died in my throat when she added, "There is a record of a marriage for Ms. Olivia Reed... to Alex Thorne. It was filed two years ago." Alex Thorne. My protégé. The talented young architect I'd mentored, the man I trusted after our ceremony. The wedding certificate, the grand gestures, the vows-all lies. Every single one. I pieced it together: Olivia's sad eyes, her whispers of a "replacement" while I was overseas, her tears and apologies for being "paranoid" about Alex when I returned. Now, I heard her cooing to him on the phone, "To him, I'm his devoted wife. To the world, you' re my husband. It' s a perfect arrangement. I have his love and your legal status. I have everything." Everything. And I had nothing. I was a sham. A joke. The love I felt, a towering structure, crumbled to dust. There was no rage. Just a cold, empty void. Then, the sculpture crashed. Olivia chose him, shielding him, letting the heavy steel frame slam into me, crushing bones. Lying broken in the hospital, I watched her dote on him while ignoring me. I realized she had intended to erase me. This wasn't a mistake. This wasn't an accident. This was a brutal choice, a calculated punishment. Ethan Miller, the trusting fool, was dead. I decided then. I wasn' t confronting her. I was disappearing. And then, when she least expected it, I would take it all away.

Janice, the long-forgotten legitimate heiress, made her way back to her family, pouring her heart into winning their hearts. Yet, she had to relinquish her very identity, her academic credentials, and her creative works to her foster sister. In return for her sacrifices, she found no warmth, only deeper neglect. Resolute, Janice vowed to cut off all emotional bonds. Transformed, she now stood as a master of martial arts, adept in eight languages, an esteemed medical expert, and a celebrated designer. With newfound resolve, she declared, "From this day forward, no one in this family shall cross me."

Dear readers, this book has resumed daily updates. It took Sabrina three whole years to realize that her husband, Tyrone didn't have a heart. He was the coldest and most indifferent man she had ever met. He never smiled at her, let alone treated her like his wife. To make matters worse, the return of the woman he had eyes for brought Sabrina nothing but divorce papers. Sabrina's heart broke. Hoping that there was still a chance for them to work on their marriage, she asked, "Quick question,Tyrone. Would you still divorce me if I told you that I was pregnant?" "Absolutely!" he responded. Realizing that she didn't mean shit to him, Sabrina decided to let go. She signed the divorce agreement while lying on her sickbed with a broken heart. Surprisingly, that wasn't the end for the couple. It was as if scales fell off Tyrone's eyes after she signed the divorce agreement. The once so heartless man groveled at her bedside and pleaded, "Sabrina, I made a big mistake. Please don't divorce me. I promise to change." Sabrina smiled weakly, not knowing what to do...

Rosalynn's marriage to Brian wasn't what she envisioned it to be. Her husband, Brian, barely came home. He avoided her like a plague. Worse still, he was always in the news for dating numerous celebrities. Rosalynn persevered until she couldn't take it anymore. She upped and left after filing for a divorce. Everything changed days later. Brian took interest in a designer that worked for his company anonymously. From her profile, he could tell that she was brilliant and dazzling. He pulled the stops to find out her true identity. Little did he know that he was going to receive the greatest shocker of his life. Brian bit his finger with regret when he recalled his past actions and the woman he foolishly let go.

Season 1: Vanessa Saxon was once married to Luca Kensington, the cold and distant CEO of K Group. But when she was seven months pregnant, her adopted sister, Beatriz Langley, falsely accused her of having an affair with her best friend, Daxton Radcliffe, and carrying his child. The worst part? Luca believed Beatriz. In a fit of rage, Luca demanded their baby be removed prematurely, leading to a tragic event where Vanessa nearly died from the ordeal. Saved by Daxton, Vanessa disappeared. Now, five years later, she returns-stronger and determined-alongside her daughter, Isla Saxon, to exact her revenge on those who wronged her. SEASON 2: Framed for a crime she didn't commit, Senna Thorne lost everything-her family, her freedom, and the man she once loved. Betrayed and abandoned, she was sentenced to a fate worse than death. Magnus Voss, the ruthless billionaire who once held her heart, now sees her as nothing more than a murderer, a woman unworthy of mercy. But when fate grants her a second chance, she returns under a new name, Zara Skye-no longer the broken woman he cast aside. Yet Magnus refuses to let go. He sees her, he feels her, and deep down, he knows-she is the ghost that haunts him, the love he once destroyed. But this time, Senna isn't here for love. She's here for vengeance. When their paths collide once more, will he uncover the truth before it's too late? Or will her revenge burn them both to ashes?

"Stella once savored Marc's devotion, yet his covert cruelty cut deep. She torched their wedding portrait at his feet while he sent flirty messages to his mistress. With her chest tight and eyes blazing, Stella delivered a sharp slap. Then she deleted her identity, signed onto a classified research mission, vanished without a trace, and left him a hidden bombshell. On launch day she vanished; that same dawn Marc's empire crumbled. All he unearthed was her death certificate, and he shattered. When they met again, a gala spotlighted Stella beside a tycoon. Marc begged. With a smirk, she said, ""Out of your league, darling."

After three secretive years of marriage, Eliana never met her enigmatic husband until she was served with divorce papers and learned of his extravagant pursuit of another. She snapped back to reality and secured a divorce. Thereafter, Eliana unveiled her various personas: an esteemed doctor, legendary secret agent, master hacker, celebrated designer, adept race car driver, and distinguished scientist. As her diverse talents became known, her ex-husband was consumed by remorse. Desperately, he pleaded, "Eliana, give me another chance! All my properties, even my life, are yours."