Alfredo Deangelo

My fiancé plunged our SUV into an icy river during a blizzard. He had a choice: save me, or save his childhood sweetheart, Kianna. He didn't hesitate. He left me to drown. This wasn't the first time. In my last life, he' d "saved" me after Kianna drowned, only to trap me in a loveless marriage. He blamed me for her death, his silent accusations a constant torment. My own parents didn't care, forcing the wedding to secure a corporate merger. I was nothing more than a pawn. He married me not for love, but as penance, making me his living scapegoat for the woman he truly lost. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back in the sinking car, the icy water rising around me. This time, I smiled and pushed him toward her. "Save Kianna," I commanded. "She needs you more."

It was my eighteenth birthday, a day that should have been filled with joy, but the silence in the grand dining room was heavy with the ghost of my foster parents, gone too soon. Across from me sat Ethan, my foster uncle and the only family I had left, his serious gray eyes holding a warmth I foolishly mistook for something more, until I finally confessed my love for him. His reaction was swift and brutal; he called me disgusting, shameful, and a burden, his words shattering my heart as he left me to drown in humiliation and pain, only to reappear two years later with a beautiful fiancée. I clung to him, desperate, until one horrifying moment on a plummeting private jet when he ripped the parachute from my back, offering my life to save Tiffany' s, leaving me to fall into the abyss. Against all odds, I survived, pulling his broken body from the wreckage myself, only to wake and hear him praise Tiffany for saving his life, erasing my sacrifice and leaving me utterly broken, a quiet, chilling resolve settling in my soul.

The biting cold was the first thing I felt, deep in the walk-in freezer where Chloe, my wife of five years, had locked me. My punishment for accidentally breaking an outrageously expensive Patek Philippe, a gift not for me, but for Liam O'Connell, her "soulmate" who was returning to the US today. Hours earlier, her face had turned to ice, her voice dangerously quiet, "You clumsy fool! Do you have any idea what you've done?" Her grip like steel, she' d shoved me inside, snarling, "Two hours. Think about what you did," before the heavy door slammed shut. I had loved her, so much so that I' d sold my firm and inheritance to free her from gambling debts, thinking my selfless love had won her heart. A dream shattered by a hidden journal revealing her rage, resentment, and her true love for Liam, whispering to our son, Leo, "This is your real dad." Now, shivering, I heard a muffled thud, then another, against the door, and Leo' s small voice screaming, "Get out! You made Mom unhappy! Get out of here!" A harder kick, "I don't want you as my dad anymore!" My spirit shattered into a million tiny pieces, the cold from the freezer nothing compared to the chill in my soul. Just as consciousness faded, Chloe unlatched the door, the kitchen light blinding me. She found me collapsed, feverish, but her face was a mask of irritation, annoyed she' d been caught, already on the phone with Liam, gushing, "Leo? Oh, he's wonderful. He calls you 'Dad' all the time now. He can't wait to see you." My son looked down at me, his face twisted in disgust, "You're pathetic." That was the moment. The last flicker of hope died. I stumbled to the guest room, my hands shaking. Ignoring calls, I booked a one-way international flight to anywhere, vowing never to return. Two days later, Chloe was seen on the news, chasing my taxi to the airport, screaming my name in a public meltdown no one, least of all me, could have predicted. I still had no idea how deep her betrayal ran.

I pushed my rig across forty-eight states for a year, eating at truck stops and sleeping in the cab, all to save for a home with my wife, Jenny. Returning home, bone-deep tired but finally holding our savings, I found the house too clean, Jenny wasn't there, and a small tag on her car keys led me to a high-end car wash. There, an attendant greeted me by name, confirming Jenny's "Platinum" status and frequent visits, which made no sense given her short commute, and a cold dread started to settle in. The truth exploded when I checked her car's GPS: thousands of miles logged to a luxury hotel, a cocktail lounge, and even a distant casino, all during my brutal year on the road, leaving me reeling in disbelief as I saw a fresh hickey on her neck, and then found a trash bag full of empty men' s cologne boxes and high-end boutique receipts. How could the woman I' d sacrificed everything for betray me so completely, then feign innocence and turn the entire town against me when her lover announced she was pregnant with his child? Humiliated and backed into a corner, I knew I had to fight back.

I was on the cusp of everything, a rising country music star poised for the CMA Horizon Award, making my dying grandfather' s legacy a reality. But then my boyfriend, Ethan, shattered it all, sending me to the wrong venue, watching smugly as my rival, Jennifer Todd, stole my nomination. Later, he casually dismissed my dream, then, at Jennifer' s cruel urging, smashed my hand, destroying my ability to play. As if that wasn' t enough, Jennifer visited my grandfather in hospice, gleefully telling him my career was over, triggering his heart attack. My world crumbled; I lost my music, my future, and my last link to him, only for Ethan to propose I abandon my "white-trash family history" and the media to accuse me of faking my injuries and causing my grandfather's death. Just as I stood broken at his graveside, a dark, powerful figure emerged through the crowd, offering a silent promise of revenge.

I once thought my love for Julian Croft was everything, willingly sacrificing my entire identity and unique art to fit his "pious" world. I even became pregnant, convinced his child would finally make me permanent in his life. But his sister, Claire, violently attacked me, kicking my stomach and causing a horrifying miscarriage. Julian, the man I loved, rushed in and only saw Claire, frantically asking if her hand was hurt, completely oblivious to my bleeding body on the floor. When I awoke in the hospital, stripped of my baby and hope, Julian appeared desperate – not for me, but to demand my blood for Claire, who' d been in a car crash. He begged the doctors to save "his Elle," using the same pet name he once whispered to me. In that shattering instant, I realized the ultimate horror: I was never "his Elle"; I was merely a substitute, a stand-in for his twisted, suffocating obsession with his sister. Used and utterly destroyed, forced to save the very woman who had killed my child, I found a cold, clear resolve in the void of my being. I walked out of that hospital, leaving everything behind, vowing to forge a new life far from the wreckage he left. Now, six years later, I'm back in glittering Manhattan, not the broken girl he thought he knew, but Elara, a celebrated artist, a loving wife to Kael, and a proud mother to our son. And Julian Croft is about to learn that the woman he betrayed is no longer picking up discarded rings, but building an empire of her own.

My app, GatherGround, was a hit, and my launch party was buzzing. It was also my birthday, a night meant for celebration. Then, my best friend Jess and charming boyfriend Ethan gave me a "special" gift: a vintage instant camera. What followed was a nightmare. My mother died in a freak accident, my dad suffered a debilitating stroke, my company was cyber-attacked and destroyed, and Ethan coldly abandoned me. As I stared death in the face, a horrifying truth flashed before my eyes: the camera wasn' t a gift-it was draining everything from me, giving it to them, to Jess and Ethan, who flourished as I withered. But then, I gasped, the party music pounding again, and saw Jess walking towards me with that same cursed box, moments before it all began. I was back, and this time, armed with knowledge and burning rage, I would rewrite my fate.

After my family was exterminated, Dayna remained calm and indifferent, like a chrysanthemum. Fortunately, she was accepted into the Divine Mountainhead of the sect as a disciple and refused to disrespect my parents. However, the head of the sect judged me as disrespectful and Dayna was accepted as a closed-door disciple due to her loyalty and righteousness. After three years of mourning, we both fell into the Demon Clan during the ceremony of apprenticeship. While I struggled to find food and water, Dayna refused to eat anything that was not dignified. She criticized me for being subservient to the Demon Clan and lacking integrity. In the end, I died of starvation while Dayna gained favor with the Demon Sovereign and became her loyal servant. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my family was exterminated.

Elliana, the unfavored "ugly duckling" of her family, was humiliated by her stepsister, Paige, who everyone admired. Paige, engaged to the CEO Cole, was the perfect woman-until Cole married Elliana on the day of the wedding. Shocked, everyone wondered why he chose the "ugly" woman. As they waited for her to be cast aside, Elliana stunned everyone by revealing her true identity: a miracle healer, financial mogul, appraisal prodigy, and AI genius. When her mistreatment became known, Cole revealed Elliana's stunning, makeup-free photo, sending shockwaves through the media. "My wife doesn't need anyone's approval."

For three quiet, patient years, Christina kept house, only to be coldly discarded by the man she once trusted. Instead, he paraded a new lover, making her the punchline of every town joke. Liberated, she honed her long-ignored gifts, astonishing the town with triumph after gleaming triumph. Upon discovering she'd been a treasure all along, her ex-husband's regret drove him to pursue her. "Honey, let's get back together!" With a cold smirk, Christina spat, "Fuck off." A silken-suited mogul slipped an arm around her waist. "She's married to me now. Guards, get him the hell out of here!"

"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."

Linsey was stood up by her groom to run off with another woman. Furious, she grabbed a random stranger and declared, "Let's get married!" She had acted on impulse, realizing too late that her new husband was the notorious rascal, Collin. The public laughed at her, and even her runaway ex offered to reconcile. But Linsey scoffed at him. "My husband and I are very much in love!" Everyone thought she was delusional. Then Collin was revealed to be the richest man in the world. In front of everyone, he got down on one knee and held up a stunning diamond ring. "I look forward to our forever, honey."

After five years of playing the perfect daughter, Rylie was exposed as a stand-in. Her fiancé bolted, friends scattered, and her adoptive brothers shoved her out, telling her to grovel back to her real family. Done with humiliation, she swore to claw back what was hers. Shock followed: her birth family ruled the town's wealth. Overnight, she became their precious girl. The boardroom brother canceled meetings, the genius brother ditched his lab, the musician brother postponed a tour. As those who spurned her begged forgiveness, Admiral Brad Morgan calmly declared, "She's already taken."

Sunlit hours found their affection glimmering, while moonlit nights ignited reckless desire. But when Brandon learned his beloved might last only half a year, he coolly handed Millie divorce papers, murmuring, "This is all for appearances; we'll get married again once she's calmed down." Millie, spine straight and cheeks dry, felt her pulse go hollow. The sham split grew permanent; she quietly ended their unborn child and stepped into a new beginning. Brandon unraveled, his car tearing down the street, unwilling to let go of the woman he'd discarded, pleading for her to look back just once.

Rain hammered against the asphalt as my sedan spun violently into the guardrail on the I-95. Blood trickled down my temple, stinging my eyes, while the rhythmic slap of the windshield wipers mocked my panic. Trembling, I dialed my husband, Clive. His executive assistant answered instead, his voice professional and utterly cold. "Mr. Wilson says to stop the theatrics. He said, and I quote, 'Hang up. Tell her I don’t have time for her emotional blackmail tonight.'" The line went dead while I was still trapped in the wreckage. At the hospital, I watched the news footage of Clive wrapping his jacket around his "fragile" ex-girlfriend, Angelena, shielding her from the storm I was currently bleeding in. When I returned to our penthouse, I found a prenatal ultrasound in his suit pocket, dated the day he claimed to be on a business trip. Instead of an apology, Clive met me with a sneer. He told me I was nothing but an "expensive decoration" his father bought to make him look stable. He froze my bank accounts and cut off my cards, waiting for the hunger to drive me back to his feet. I stared at the man I had loved for four years, realizing he didn't just want a wife; he wanted a prop he could switch off. He thought he could starve me into submission while he played father to another woman's child. But Clive forgot one thing. Before I was his trophy wife, I was Starfall—the legendary voice actress who vanished at the height of her fame. "I'm not jealous, Clive. I'm done." I grabbed my old microphone and walked out. I’m not just leaving him; I’m taking the lead role in the biggest saga in Hollywood—the one Angelena is desperate for. This time, the "decoration" is going to burn his world down.

Maia grew up a pampered heiress-until the real daughter returned and framed her, sending Maia to prison with help from her fiancé and family. Four years later, free and married to Chris, a notorious outcast, everyone assumed Maia was finished. They soon discovered she was secretly a famed jeweler, elite hacker, celebrity chef, and top game designer. As her former family begged for help, Chris smiled calmly. "Honey, let's go home." Only then did Maia realize her "useless" husband was a legendary tycoon who'd adored her from the start.

Today is October 14th, my birthday. I returned to New York after months away, dragging my suitcase through the biting wind, but the VIP pickup zone where my husband’s Maybach usually idled was empty. When I finally let myself into our Upper East Side penthouse, I didn’t find a cake or a "welcome home" banner. Instead, I found my husband, Caden, kneeling on the floor, helping our five-year-old daughter wrap a massive gift for my half-sister, Adalynn. Caden didn’t even look up when I walked in; he was too busy laughing with the girl who had already stolen my father’s legacy and was now moving in on my family. "Auntie Addie is a million times better than Mommy," my daughter Elara chirped, clutching a plush toy Caden had once forbidden me from buying for her. "Mommy is mean," she whispered loudly, while Caden just smirked, calling me a "drill sergeant" before whisking her off to Adalynn’s party without a second glance. Later that night, I saw a video Adalynn posted online where my husband and child laughed while mocking my "sensitive" nature, treating me like an inconvenient ghost in my own home. I had spent five years researching nutrition for Elara’s health and managing every detail of Caden’s empire, only to be discarded the moment I wasn't in the room. How could the man who set his safe combination to my birthday completely forget I even existed? The realization didn't break me; it turned me into ice. I didn't scream or beg for an explanation. I simply walked into the study, pulled out the divorce papers I’d drafted months ago, and took a black marker to the terms. I crossed out the alimony, the mansion, and even the custody clause—if they wanted a life without me, I would give them exactly what they asked for. I left my four-carat diamond ring on the console table and walked out into the rain with nothing but a heavily encrypted hard drive. The submissive Mrs. Holloway was gone, and "Ghost," the most lethal architect in the tech world, was finally back online to take back everything they thought I’d forgotten.

Sophie stepped in for her sister and married a man known for his disfigured looks and reckless past. On their wedding day, his family turned their backs on him, and the town laughed behind their hands, certain the marriage would collapse. But Sophie's career soared, and their love only deepened. Later, during a high-profile event, the CEO of some conglomerate took off his mask, revealing Sophie's husband to be a global sensation. *** Adrian had no interest in his arranged wife and had disguised himself in hopes she would bail. But when Sophie tried to walk away, Adrian broke down and whispered, "Please, Sophie, don't go. One kiss, and I'll give you the world."