Jennifer enad

She came here to clear her chaotic mind after witnessing her husband and his mistress having sex in their bedroom. She was furious, because even though she didn't love him, she remained loyal. She didn't want to destroy the family they had built, even if their marriage was just a business arrangement. She tried to love her husband and even wanted to have a child with him, but something always felt missing. It was as if he was searching for something more, and she could feel it too. But that didn't justify what he did. She had every right to file charges against them, but she didn't. Her husband begged her not to and promised he would never do it again. To cool her head, she decided to go to Elite Bar for the first time and have a vodka. Thankfully, their daughter was asleep when it happened, because if she hadn't been, she would have definitely filed for adultery and concubinage. "Hey there, beautiful lady. Why are you here alone? No friends with you or a boyfriend Wait, you're married?" the man commented in shock as he noticed the ring on her finger. She was mesmerized by his looks. He had amber eyes like copper, making her lose her senses. His aristocratic nose was striking from every angle, with thick lashes and brows that any woman would envy. A sharp jawline accentuated his masculinity, and his perfect white teeth and red lips looked irresistibly tempting. His top-knot hairstyle only added to his Adonis-like face. "What's your name?" he asked, surprising even himself with the boldness, considering she was clearly already taken. He grinned widely. "Damn, women who belong to others always seem drawn to me. But anyway..." He extended his hand. "I'm Erin De'Lucas. Single." His gaze deepened. Ember couldn't help but trace her eyes over his body, stunned by how sexy and hot he was. He wore a black shirt and black pants, and he had a piercing in his left eyebrow. She took his hand almost involuntarily, feeling his grip tighten. "I-I'm Ember Vernon. Nice to meet you." "You're beautiful," he gasped, caressing her face. "T-Thank you," she stammered, her voice weak. She wasn't sure if it was the vodka or just a natural reaction to him. He tilted his head, looking deeply into her eyes. "I don't normally interfere with other people's relationships, but seeing you right now, looking so stunning, makes me want to break my own rules. I want you to be mine." His breath was hot against her ear, sending shivers through her body. "Huh?" She was stunned by his words. He chuckled seductively and held her hand, staring at the ring darkly. "Will you give me the honor of being your other man, mi hermosa?" His gaze seemed to pierce her very soul. His aura screamed danger, yet she found herself drawn to it. She was married to Tyson, after all, and they had a daughter, Easter. But they didn't love each other-what was holding her back? Her daughter. "I-I don't-" Before she could finish, he covered her mouth with his large hand, her eyes widening in shock. His jaw tightened. "I don't accept rejection. I've had enough of it. Whether you like it or not, I'm already your other man. I don't care if you're married. I like you, and I want you to be mine. That's final, and you can't stop me from claiming you, starting tonight, mi reina." His voice was cold and dangerous. "Even your husband won't be able to stop me from having an affair with someone like you. This is your fault-you've captured my attention and my heart. Now face the consequences of being too irresistible." Without knowing how, she found herself agreeing as they sealed it with a torrid kiss that lasted all night. "I'm officially your forbidden love affair now, Mi Reina." Maybe it was time for her husband to taste his own medicine.

In front of the mirror, my reflection looks calm and composed. But inside, I'm filled with nerves. It’s a big night. I observed myself, wearing a simple black dress with my long hair down, as if I were going to a wake. KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK! “Can I come in?” It was Brother Enzo’s voice, so I immediately turned around and saw him peeking in with a smile on his lips. “You know you’re always welcome, Brother Enzo. I’m just checking my look before I make my grand entrance,” I said, and Brother chuckled softly before giving my outfit a once-over. “Yeah, I see. It looks like you’ve really prepared for your first meeting with your fiance,” he teased, but I knew he was also worried about me, which is why he came here. I’ve been ready for a while now, yet I’m still up here and haven’t gone downstairs. He knows I’m just hiding out in my room. He took a deep breath as I lowered my head, and I felt his hand on my shoulder, so I turned to look at him as he sat down in front of me. “You’re stalling, Chiara. It’s okay; you don’t have to pretend with me. I don’t like this arranged marriage either,” he said, so I looked at him. “There must be a way to stop this, right?” I asked, my eyes brimming with tears. “He’s not serious about marrying me, is he?” I asked. “And it’s not just any Montello, Brother. We’re talking about Ethan Harris Montello. He’s a monster!” I exclaimed, and he let out a harsh breath at my words. “But father is a man of his word. He made the deal with the Montello elders, and he won’t back out of it now,” he said, and I shook my head. Why is this happening to me? I felt him hug me, so I just closed my eyes. brother Enzo may be hotheaded, but he’s always been gentle with me. This family is incredibly important to him. “Hey, I’m worried about you too. If this truce doesn’t hold, who knows what could happen to you? Our family has been at war with the Montello family for decades. We may be at peace for now, but I doubt it will last,” he said. “Do you think there will be another war between our family and theirs?” I asked, and he took a deep breath. “I don’t know. This hatred is in our blood. It won’t disappear just because we’ve been promised peace. Keep your wits about you, Chiara. Stay guarded around Ethan. He may be your husband soon, but he’ll always be our sworn enemy,” Brother reminded me firmly. Married to my sworn enemy. Fate sure has a strong sense of humor when it comes to shaping your destiny. Fine, I’ll do my best. No matter who I marry, in my heart, I’ll always be a Bianchi. I looked at Brother. “Come on. I should join the party before father sends out a search party,” I said, and he offered his hand to me, which I accepted. I was incredibly nervous about making my entrance, knowing that I’d see Ethan there. I can’t believe this is happening. This engagement feels like a bad dream...

"Stop running around! I'm exhausted chasing after you, Quiy!" I scolded my child. Seriously, he's so hyperactive. It's like he's a worm sprinkled with salt. He's only three years old, but I feel like I won't even make it to his college years because right now, I already feel like giving up. I wanted this, so I guess all I can say is... just bear with it! Instead of listening to me, he became even more aggressive. I might as well carry him in a basket just to keep him quiet. "I'll leave you here, you’ll see," I threatened, but it seemed to have no effect on this little rascal. "If you weren't so heavy, I'd carry you, but you’re heavier than a sack of rice!" I complained, knowing I’d end up doing it anyway. Even though Quiy is a headache, I still love him, of course! Even if I were offered ten million, I’d still choose my child. We always playfully bicker, but of course, it's all for fun. It would be boring if we didn’t talk, right? There are only two of us, so we’d be wasting our words if we stayed silent. If he inherited anything from me, it's my quick tongue. But his seems to be on overdrive. Mine is still manageable... but his? It’s overflowing. "You're too slow, Mommy. I'm speeding up so we don't miss out," he said, rolling his eyes at me. If this kid wasn't just three years old, I might have done something drastic. "How can you miss out? We're in a grocery store. There’s plenty to buy, so you won’t run out," I explained. He let out a heavy sigh, raised an eyebrow, and crossed his arms. "Then why haven’t you found my diapers yet?" he argued, his eyebrow arching even higher. "They said there's no more stock of your diapers, ma'am!" I sarcastically replied. "See, Mommy? We're out of stock because you're too slow. You're like a pregnant lady. I saw earlier that another mom grabbed the last one of my diaper type. I was going to snatch it, but then I saw her husband. He’s so big, so I kept quiet," the little one shrugged. Why does he know so much? Sometimes I think maybe I’m just a joke to the world, that he’s actually the mommy and I’m the child because he knows more than I do. "I'm not pregnant. Where do you get these ideas? You look like a penguin—did you hear me say anything?" I raised an eyebrow at him. "Yes, you just did," he replied. Sometimes, I just want to put him in my pocket. He’s so annoying! He always has something to say! "Quiyana Louise," I called out his full name. Whenever I do that, he usually behaves because he knows I’m about to scold him. "I won't run anymore, Mommy," he said, pressing his lips together tightly. I nodded in relief. Thank goodness. I'm only twenty-four, but I feel like I’m sixty. It’s exhausting taking care of a mischievous child, especially one who’s always cheeky. If I didn’t love him... Even though he's the most mischievous, headache-inducing, and expensive child, I’d still do anything to give him the good life he deserves. I never experienced these things when I was a child because I wasn't born rich. There were even times when my parents couldn’t afford to buy even a kilo of rice, so the solution was to borrow from the neighbors. For me, there’s no shame in coming from such a life. Even now, I sometimes find myself needing to borrow money, but at least I know how to pay it back. I’ll work even harder to give my child a good life. "You’re smiling again, Mommy. I’m not being naughty anymore," I heard him say. That’s why I love this kid. At least he’s affectionate too. A smile slowly formed on my lips. He even clapped when I did. "My mommy is so beautiful..." he praised, something that probably only happens once a month. Most of the time, I just get insults from him. I don’t even know where he got that attitude from—I’m kind... and so are my parents. "Enough with the compliments, Quiy. I already knew that. Do you think complimenting me will make me buy you chocolate?" I looked down at him. "No. Your teeth will fall out," I added, causing his shoulders to droop in disappointment while pouting. He’s already missing teeth, yet he still wants sweets. Of course, I don’t want him wearing dentures at such a young age! Besides, I can’t afford such things. He stayed quiet, so I focused on the shopping list I had written. I’m the type who thinks of many things to buy while at home, but when I’m actually at the store... I forget. So young and already forgetful. I’d almost bought everything. Only Quiy’s diapers and milk were left. I was about to call him when my heart pounded loudly—I didn’t see him in the aisle where I was. I quickly put down the basket I was holding and took quick steps to search for Quiy. My heart raced even faster with every aisle I passed where I didn’t see him. Where could that child have gone?! "Quiy?" I called, but still no response. I had passed several aisles, but still no sign of Quiy. I must have called out every saint I knew, but still nothing. "Quiy, my child?!" I called out agai

My mother called me a defective product and insisted I marry Preston Finch, a man who treated our first date like a corporate merger. During our lunch, Preston demanded I clean his car like a servant, his arrogance snapping the last thread of my patience. I threw my iced coffee right into his lap, sending the cafe into a stunned silence as he screamed insults about my background and the cost of his designer pants. My mother didn't care about the abuse; she only cared that I had lost a "catch," calling me an embarrassment and threatening my future while my flower shop faced imminent foreclosure. Trapped by debt and my family’s relentless cruelty, I felt like a drowning woman with nowhere left to turn. Just as I hit rock bottom, Connor Powers—my brother's old roommate—stepped in, his icy gaze promising a brutal end to my misery. "Let's get married," he said, offering a cold, calculated contract that would shield me from my family forever. I signed the papers, unaware that I had just tethered my life to a man whose world was far more dangerous than I could have ever imagined.

To revenge herself on her unfaithful fiancé Kevin, Isidora hides her striking beauty behind a plain disguise, and targets his uncle — the most formidable man Kevin fears. After one reckless night, Isidora leaves cash as payment and says lightly, "You were good last night." She tries to leave quietly, but is pulled into his arms. "You think you can walk away after this?" he says, his tone low and possessive. Cedrick is a feared, untouchable titan on Wall Street — elegant, aloof, and completely uninterested in women. Not even the most beautiful socialites in the city can catch his eye. When gossip spreads that he was seen pressing a woman against a wall and kissing her fiercely, no one believes it. When the rumors name Isidora, the crowd scoffs. He rejects even the most beautiful women, so why would he notice a plain girl like her? All doubt disappears when they see the dignified Cedrick drop to one knee to help Isidora with her shoe, pleading softly for just one kiss. When Kevin finally sees Isidora's true beauty and begs for forgiveness. But Cedrick kicks him out at once, slams a marriage certificate on the table, and says sharply. “Call her Aunt.”

"Sign it. Save her, and I'll give you anything." For four years, I was Damian Wright's 'invisible wife'. While I played the pauper, he poured his soul into his dying first love. Desperate, he blindly signed a stack of papers to buy the 'Gifted Doctor's' time. He didn't read the fine print. Buried inside was our Divorce Decree. "Congratulations, Damian," I said, stripping off my surgical mask to reveal the wife he never truly knew. "You're free." The submissive Amelia is dead. The legendary 'Ghost Surgeon'? That's me. The blindfolded racing queen 'Raven'? Also me. The shadow behind the global intelligence network V-Null? Still me. I was ready to vanish, but Lucas Sullivan-the titan who makes the Wrights look like peasants-blocked my path. When Damian tried to reclaim me, Lucas didn't just stop him; he brought an empire to its knees. "They don't deserve to look at you," Lucas whispered, his touch a lethal mix of protection and obsession. "But if you crave the world, Amelia, I'll burn it down just to hear you say my name."

The Wellington beef sat cold on the mahogany table, a graying monument to three years of wasted devotion. It was my birthday and our anniversary, but my husband, Hamilton McKee, didn't even look at the gift I’d spent months knitting. "Our marriage is a transaction," he said, his voice cutting like a scalpel. "Stop trying to make it a romance novel. I just need you to stop existing in my space for five minutes." Then his phone buzzed with a call from Cuba, the ex-girlfriend he never truly left. His cold mask shattered into frantic concern, a look he had never once given me. "I'm coming," he whispered to her, sprinting for the door without a backward glance at the wife he was leaving behind. I chased him into the freezing Boston night, only to be swarmed by predatory paparazzi. As Hamilton’s Maybach roared away, a heavy camera bag slammed into my shoulder. I slipped on the black ice, my skull hitting a granite gate pillar with a sickening crack. Warm blood trickled down my neck, and as the world tilted, the fog in my brain finally cleared. I wasn't the penniless orphan from Southie he thought I was. Images of sterile operating rooms, complex sutures, and a billion-dollar inheritance flooded back—along with the memory of the car wreck three years ago where I was the one who pulled Hamilton from the flames, not Cuba. How could I have spent three years begging for scraps of affection from a man who didn't even recognize his own savior? Why did I let a fraud steal my life while I played the role of a submissive shadow? When I woke up in the hospital, the trembling girl was gone. I ripped the IV from my arm and stared at the man who had come back only to demand I stay out of his way. I didn't cry. I didn't beg. I simply handed him a piece of paper with one word written in the sharp, confident script of a woman who owned half the city: DIVORCE. "Sign it, Hamilton," I said, my voice like ice. "Because by tomorrow, I’m not just leaving you—I’m taking the McKee empire with me."

They say what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, mine didn't. I came back with a marriage certificate bearing a stranger's name, a ring worth more than my parents' love ever was, and a son whose father I've never seen, never known, never remembered. I went to Vegas for a racing competition. I won. I celebrated. And somewhere between the victory and the sunrise, my life changed forever. For six years, I've lived with the consequences of one reckless night. I built an empire. I raised my son. And I searched for the man who changed my life without even knowing it. Then fate laughed in my face. My sister married my ex-fiancé-the man I was promised to since childhood. The man I was supposed to become Mrs. Windsor for. The man who now wears my family name... and looks far too much like my child. Every time I'm near him, the past presses closer. Every glance feels like a question I'm terrified to ask. I shouldn't notice him. I shouldn't feel anything. He is my sister's husband. But some secrets refuse to stay buried. Because the truth about Vegas isn't just in the ring on my finger or the child in my arms. It's standing right in front of me. And when it finally comes out, it won't just destroy a marriage, it will burn an empire to the ground.

For fourteen years, Faith was the perfect Jarvis trophy wife. Plucked from her parents' funeral at seventeen, she was molded into an obedient, quiet accessory for Branson's billionaire empire. But while she managed his charities and smiled at galas until her face ached, he was busy humiliating her. She found another woman's gold bracelet in his desk, and today, his affair with a 23-year-old actress was broadcast on a massive electronic billboard right above his own Wall Street headquarters. For years, Faith had endured his coldness. He stopped touching her after the second miscarriage. He left her alone to cry in the back of his chauffeured cars at 3 AM. He thought her silence meant she was too weak, too poor, and too grateful to ever walk away. He called her a "cheap pet" who couldn't survive without his credit cards and mansions. He truly believed she needed someone else to want her before she could leave him. He never understood that wanting herself was enough. Did he really think she spent all those lonely nights just crying in her gilded cage? He was dead wrong. Faith didn't just pack a cheap duffel bag to run away. She walked right into his seventy-third-floor corner office, slammed down a zero-compensation divorce agreement, and tossed a highly encrypted USB drive onto his desk. "Sign the papers today, Branson. Or I hand your company's deepest secrets to a short-seller, and we watch your empire burn."

I spent five years acting as the perfect, invisible caretaker for my wealthy family, meticulously managing their health and social standing while they treated me like a ghost. Then, my nightmare became reality when my brother Alon shoved me out of bed, forcing me to apologize to our adopted sister, Fallon, for a jealousy I never felt. My parents and brother stood over me, their eyes filled with unfiltered disgust, demanding I play the servant to a girl who was actively plotting my social destruction. They froze my accounts, stripped me of my dignity, and mocked my existence, fully expecting me to crawl back to them in tears like I did in my other, broken life. I stared at their entitled faces, feeling a cold, sharp clarity wash over me; they were so obsessed with status that they didn't realize they had just handed the keys to their own ruin to a complete amateur. Why was I still playing the martyr for people who would watch me burn without blinking? I stood up, walked away from their chaos, and cut the final tie, leaving them to face the ruthless social elite with a liability they couldn't control.

I was the "perfect" fiancée for Harrison Vincent—regal, silent, and low-maintenance. For two years, I suppressed my career as a forensic accountant to be the "safe" choice that polled well with his family’s shareholders. But at a high-society gala, I found him in a VIP lounge with a socialite wrapped around him. He told her I was just a "boring art piece display stand" he had to drag around until his trust fund was unlocked. I didn't scream or make a scene. I mentally filed a "bad debt" report, tossed my emerald engagement ring into a glass of stale champagne, and walked out of his life. That same night, I found myself in a dark jazz club bathroom, using a strip of my velvet dress to stop the bleeding of a mysterious man with a gunshot wound and eyes like grey flint. The fallout was immediate. Harrison blocked my credit cards, assuming I’d crawl back once I couldn't afford rent. His mother called me a "nobody" while simultaneously begging me to handle the family's medical emergencies because they were too panicked to function. They treated me like a tool they could discard and pick up at will, never realizing I had already moved my things into a cramped Brooklyn apartment. I couldn't understand why they thought I was still their puppet, or why a black Maybach began following me through the city streets. I had saved a stranger's life and ended a toxic engagement, yet the air around me felt heavier and more dangerous than ever. The truth came out at the hospital when the most feared man in the city stepped out of the shadows. It was the man from the bathroom—Collis Vincent, the ruthless head of the family. He didn't just humiliate Harrison; he took my hand in front of everyone and made a chilling declaration. "Harrison is a fool to have let you go, Helena. Your arrangement with him is terminated. From now on, you'll be working with me."

They ruined her face. Stole her child. Now she's back-and nothing will stop her. Five years ago, Raina Carrington lost everything: her beauty, her family, and her newborn baby. Now she's returned-unrecognizable, unbreakable, and with one goal in mind: to find her son and make them pay. But revenge is never simple, especially when it draws the attention of Leif Vexley-the most powerful and dangerous man in the city-who just might hold the key to her child's past. Yet she's not the victim anymore. She's the storm-and she's ready to strike.

Being second best is practically in my DNA. My sister got the love, the attention, the spotlight. And now, even her damn fiancé. Technically, Rhys Granger was my fiancé now-billionaire, devastatingly hot, and a walking Wall Street wet dream. My parents shoved me into the engagement after Catherine disappeared, and honestly? I didn't mind. I'd crushed on Rhys for years. This was my chance, right? My turn to be the chosen one? Wrong. One night, he slapped me. Over a mug. A stupid, chipped, ugly mug my sister gave him years ago. That's when it hit me-he didn't love me. He didn't even see me. I was just a warm-bodied placeholder for the woman he actually wanted. And apparently, I wasn't even worth as much as a glorified coffee cup. So I slapped him right back, dumped his ass, and prepared for disaster-my parents losing their minds, Rhys throwing a billionaire tantrum, his terrifying family plotting my untimely demise. Obviously, I needed alcohol. A lot of alcohol. Enter him. Tall, dangerous, unfairly hot. The kind of man who makes you want to sin just by existing. I'd met him only once before, and that night, he just happened to be at the same bar as my drunk, self-pitying self. So I did the only logical thing: I dragged him into a hotel room and ripped off his clothes. It was reckless. It was stupid. It was completely ill-advised. But it was also: Best. Sex. Of. My. Life. And, as it turned out, the best decision I'd ever made. Because my one-night stand isn't just some random guy. He's richer than Rhys, more powerful than my entire family, and definitely more dangerous than I should be playing with. And now, he's not letting me go.