Rising From Ashes: The Divorced Heiress

Ava worked three grueling jobs just to cover her grandmother's medical bills. The only bright spot in her exhausting life was her wealthy, loving boyfriend, Spencer. That was until a high-paying delivery order led her straight to his penthouse. Standing outside the ajar door, she heard his friends laughing. "It was just a hundred-dollar bet to see how fast the charity case would fall for me." Spencer's cruel chuckle shattered her world. After Ava dumped her delivery order of spaghetti and wine over him and his snobby friends, their retaliation was swift. They filed a fake complaint and got her fired from her only remaining job. That same night, the hospital called. Her grandmother was in acute heart failure, needing an emergency surgery that cost more money than Ava could ever imagine. Cornered, jobless, and watching her grandmother slip away, Ava had no choice but to dig through an alley dumpster. She frantically retrieved the bizarre contract she had thrown away yesterday: an offer from Spencer's billionaire grandfather to marry his comatose heir in exchange for two million dollars and her grandmother's life. She signed her life away to the Carlisle dynasty to save the only family she had left. But when her recovering grandmother eagerly asked to meet her new fiancé, the grandfather needed a stand-in. "You will pretend to be her loving fiancé, or you are cut off from this family forever." The man forced to stand by Ava's side and pretend to be desperately in love with her was Spencer.

Angelena was the proud heiress of the wealthy Beasley family, until a single drink shattered her life. Drugged by her jealous cousin and best friend, she stumbled into the wrong hotel suite and lost her innocence to a terrifying, authoritative stranger. The next morning, reporters burst through the door, their camera flashes blinding her. "Look at this mess! You were so desperate for money you'd sleep with some old man?" Her cousin orchestrated the entire scandal to steal her inheritance. Her grandmother publicly disowned her, stripped her of her trust fund, and banished her from New York in absolute disgrace. Seven months later, bleeding out in a freezing off-the-grid cabin, Angelena gave birth to quadruplets. But as she slipped into unconsciousness, a corrupt black-market midwife stole her two newborn sons and sold them into the blizzard, leaving Angelena with only her twin daughters. She clutched the single platinum cufflink the stranger had left behind, her heart shattered. She couldn't understand why her own blood relatives would destroy her so viciously, or who the monster was that took her innocence. But the agonizing betrayal ignited a white-hot, burning vow for revenge. Five years later, she returned to the city not as a broken outcast, but as a legendary underground doctor and a ruthless biotech CEO. And the very first billionaire she clashed with was Fabian Richmond, a paranoid tyrant who unknowingly possessed her stolen sons—and the exact same platinum crest.

For three years, I documented the slow death of my marriage in a black journal. It was my 100-point divorce plan: for every time my husband, Blake, chose his first love, Ariana, over me, I deducted points. When the score hit zero, I would leave. The final points vanished the night he left me bleeding out from a car crash. I was eight weeks pregnant with the child we had prayed for. In the ER, the nurses frantically called him-the star surgeon of the very hospital I was dying in. "Dr. Santos, we have a Jane Doe, O-negative, bleeding out. She's pregnant, and we're about to lose them both. We need you to authorize an emergency blood transfer." His voice came over the speaker, cold and impatient. "I can't. My priority is Miss Whitfield. Do what you can for the patient, but I can't divert anything right now." He hung up. He condemned his own child to death to ensure his ex-girlfriend had resources on standby after a minor procedure.

I woke up ten days after being reborn, right on the day of my engagement to the ambitious prosecutor, Barrett. Before the ceremony, my illegitimate half-sister, Karly, intercepted my heirloom brooch. Also reborn, she smugly stole my fiancé, desperate for the glorious future of a powerful politician's wife. "He needs a wife who can help him rise, not an empty porcelain doll." She didn't know that in our past life, Barrett had ruthlessly traded me to a terrifying Mafia Don just to secure his political future. I happily let her take my nightmare, but my brief taste of freedom shattered instantly. To maintain power, my family's Matriarch ruthlessly married me off to the notorious Carney mafia family instead. On my wedding night, my playboy husband abandoned me for his screaming mistress, leaving me completely humiliated in front of the entire estate. The next morning, my vicious mother-in-law tried to hand me the family's financial ledgers. It looked like the ultimate power, but I knew it was a gilded trap meant to make me the scapegoat for their rotting, bankrupt syndicate. Karly paraded her perfect new life, waiting for me to be devoured by the underworld. My new in-laws laid deadly traps at every turn, expecting me to quietly drown with their sinking ship. Even the Dark Don of Chicago was stalking me from the shadows, furious that I had been given to another man. Everyone thought I was just a helpless pawn trapped in a monster's cage. But I was no longer the naive girl from my past life. Since they decided to throw me to the wolves, I would make sure I had the teeth to tear this whole world down.

My husband, Dalton, publicly humiliated me for the tenth time, flaunting his pregnant mistress, Justine, at a conference for the company I built. I was trapped, paying for my mother' s endless medical bills. But then Justine took it a step further. She went to my mother' s hospital and cruelly told her everything-all the affairs, all my sacrifices. My mother, in her despair, jumped from the rooftop. At the funeral, Justine crashed the service with a brass band, showering my mother' s casket with confetti. "She's just trying to be thoughtful!" Dalton yelled, shielding her as I lunged forward in a blind rage. He shoved me back, his eyes blazing. "Don't you dare touch her! She's carrying my child!" He raised his hand to strike me, and I braced for the impact, my world completely shattered. But the blow never landed. A chillingly calm, powerful voice cut through the chaos. "I wouldn't advise that, Dalton." My estranged, billionaire father had just arrived.

I flew to London with a custom engagement ring, ready to surprise my boyfriend for our anniversary. Instead, I found him wearing a matching "couple's bracelet" with his "anxious" female best friend, Britney. He even ditched our anniversary dinner because she had a "panic attack" over a chipped nail. Realizing I was the third wheel in my own relationship, I quietly transferred to a university in Berlin to escape. But Graham wouldn't let go. He followed me across the continent, dragging my mother along to guilt-trip me into coming back. When that didn't work, he handed me a "farewell gift." As I opened the box, a sickly sweet smell hit me-he was trying to drug me to kidnap me back to New York. My legs gave out, but I didn't hit the floor. I fell into the arms of Harrison McKee-Britney's terrifyingly powerful uncle and my new professor. "Find another side chick, Graham," Harrison growled, pulling me close. "This one is taken."