Luoye Fenfei

I gave my boyfriend, Blake, eight years of my life. I was his loyal paralegal and devoted partner, sacrificing a promotion and even a child for the future he promised us. Then I overheard the truth from outside his office. He called me "damaged goods," laughing with the woman he gave my job to. His cruelty escalated. He publicly humiliated me, then banished me to the firm's basement archives. When intruders attacked me there, I called him, bleeding and begging for help. "You're being dramatic," he said, and hung up. He left me to die. The trauma caused me to miscarry the baby I never knew I was carrying. Lying in a hospital bed, I saw his social media post: a smiling selfie with her, captioned #Blessed. That was the moment I decided to disappear. He thought he had broken me. He was wrong. He had just set me free.

I was Grayson Deleon' s secret weapon and his lover. I took a bullet for him, saved him from a cartel, and in return, he promised me a secret marriage, a life where it would always be us. But on the night of my secret Juilliard graduation, I watched from the wings as he got down on one knee for my best friend, Camilla. He called her "pure," a word he used to contrast with my "taint" from the cartel rescue. A leaked video later proved this wasn't just a betrayal; it was a conspiracy. I heard them laughing about their "perfectly executed plan" to get rid of me, the "distraction." The man whose life I had saved had orchestrated my public humiliation, discarding me because of the very scars I earned for him. My world was ashes, but from them, something cold and hard formed. I made a single call to a heritage network I'd been using to find my lost family. It was time to disappear and never be his secret again.

Three years of marriage, three years of silent fury with Blake Harrison. Then, a nightmare: kidnapped, tortured, and brutally murdered by thugs. But instead of the afterlife, I woke up to my own funeral party, where my loving husband was celebrating his freedom with my sister, Amelia, accusing me of faking my own death. My family, the Millers, the very people who had once claimed to love me, stood by, silent witnesses to my humiliation, only to later join Blake in discrediting me, sending me to a mental institution. It broke me, but in that shattering, a new strength forged; I embraced my "death," watching my essence vanish in a golden glow, ready to finally be free. Three years later, I returned, a princess with no memory, only to be dragged back into his twisted obsession, discovering he had preserved my supposed corpse and turned my suffering into a perverse play. He confessed his sick love, his manipulations, even admitting he' d let me be tortured to "test" my affection. I tried to fight, to turn his own dagger against him, but he only reveled in the pain, until General Alex Vance, a man connected to my forgotten past, burst in and rescued me. Now, between Blake's renewed tyranny and Alex's baffling devotion, I'm finding pieces of a life I never knew, a history of longing and betrayal that demands to be explored and avenged.

The smell of gasoline and burning flesh clung to my last breath, a horrific perfume of my own end. My wife, Olivia, and her grandmother, the woman I' d sacrificed everything to save, celebrated my agonizing death. "You staged the kidnapping, you killed my lover and my son, how dare you still be alive!" Olivia shrieked, as flames licked at the cage they' d locked me in. Her grandmother, my supposed savior, added, "You couldn' t give me a child, so you targeted my grandson, I' ll teach you a lesson you\'ll never forget!" I died watching them smile, consumed by fire, bewildered by their monstrous accusations. I had given my family' s entire fortune to rescue her grandmother, even taken multiple stab wounds in the process. The media had hailed me as a hero, "the ultimate proof of our love," but it meant nothing to them. Olivia' s lover, Ethan Hayes, jealous of the attention, had tragically drowned with their son, Lucas, and they blamed me. They smiled as I burned alive, a fool who gave everything and received only contempt. Then, a frantic, insistent ringing pierced the fiery memory. My eyes snapped open. I wasn't in a burning cage; I was in my bed, the one I shared with Olivia. The calendar on my phone screamed a terrifying truth: it was the fifth anniversary of my marriage, the very day her grandmother was kidnapped. I was back, forced to relive the nightmare. But this time, I wouldn't be the fuel for their fire. I silenced the phone, the urgent ringing of the kidnappers cut short. This time, their fate was their own.

I drew a thick red circle around the date, marking my escape from eight years of crushing dedication to an architectural firm-and to David Chen, the untouchable senior partner I' d foolishly adored since day one. But my whispered plans for freedom were abruptly shattered when David, in a bizarre twist of fate, started showing a new intern, Emily White, the unguarded warmth I'd always yearned for, culminating in the gut-wrenching discovery that he was buying her an engagement ring. Reeling from this brutal blow, I gave my notice only to be immediately thrust into a crisis at a flooding construction site-one where David, the project lead, was inexplicably unreachable and then, upon his sudden arrival, inexplicably threw me under the bus, suspending me for my "recklessness." I couldn't fathom his sudden, public betrayal, leaving me utterly bewildered and heartbroken; why, after my desperate attempt to save his project, would he punish me so severely, especially when he'd hugged me moments before, a gesture that defied his usual coldness? With no other choice, and my career destroyed, I found myself accepting a forced transfer to a new city, unwittingly walking into the dangerous heart of a DEA task force, where the only thing more shocking than my unexpected new life was discovering David Chen standing there, my new boss, ready to lead the charge.

My body was a battlefield of pain, every nerve screaming as I grasped for control. A chilling, mechanical voice echoed in my mind, a death sentence: "Mission failed. Countdown initiated: 30 days." I was Olivia, or rather, the soul inhabiting her body, given a second chance by a mysterious System to mend fractured relationships with Daniel and Ethan. I' d poured my heart into earning their affection, and for a time, I succeeded. We laughed, we shared meals, we were a family once more. My life extended, filled with a joy I' d never known. But then Clara arrived. Introduced as a long-lost cousin, she systematically dismantled everything. Charming, fragile, and a master manipulator, she twisted their love, turning their protective instincts to her, casting me as the jealous villain. My carefully earned affection points plummeted, and with them, my health. The pain began, a constant, gnawing reminder of their betrayal. Every attempt to remind them of our bond was met with accusation, and every tear from Clara sealed my fate. How could they be so blind? So utterly consumed by her act that they couldn' t see the real me, dying before their eyes? Was the past we shared, the love we'd built, truly so easily erased? As the countdown relentlessly ticked, a grim acceptance settled upon me. I was losing everything, abandoned by the very people I was fighting to live for. The fight was gone. But then, a cruel knock at the door – Daniel' s voice, impatient and cold. It was time for my final act.

My funeral was just weeks ago, but as a ghost, I, Elara, the Governor's wife, was forced to watch the wake from the corner of my own grand ballroom. My husband, Governor Marcus Thorne, a man whose entire career was built on my family's name and money, wasn't grieving; he was seething, convinced I had faked my death. He believed I was hiding somewhere in our sprawling estate, playing a cruel game to deny his trusted chief of staff, Izzy, a life-saving bone marrow transplant. But Izzy, a woman I had once taken under my wing, was lying. Her supposed illness was a meticulously orchestrated ruse designed to deceive Marcus, fueling his obsession to find me. As an invisible spirit, I agonizingly witnessed Marcus' s escalating madness: he systematically destroyed my family' s legacy, fired loyal staff, and brutally tormented my ten-year-old brother, Leo, all to force me out of a hiding place that didn't exist. His depravity culminated in the desecration of my grave, only for my true, decomposing body to be dismissed by his paid medical examiner as a "random corpse." How could my brilliant, ambitious husband be so utterly blind, a puppet in a macabre performance designed to destroy everything I held dear? What sinister motive drove Izzy to such extreme lengths, and why was I, even in death, still the target of this malicious charade? It wasn't until Leo, with a final, heartbreaking act of defiance, revealed the unique surgical pin embedded in my desecrated remains that Marcus's world shattered, finally exposing the horrifying truth of his own monstrous actions and setting the stage for Izzy' s chilling, triumphant reveal of her decades-long revenge and the complete collapse of his empire.

For centuries, I, Elara, the ancient Guardian of Redwood Creek, tied my very soul to the immense Patriarch redwood, silently protecting the Harrison family through a pact they barely understood. James Harrison, the family heir, once seemed to respect my beloved tree and me, showing a youthful kindness that warmed my ancient heart. But when his fiancée, Brenda Van Doren, saw nothing but lumber and obstacles in the ancient redwoods, James, once reverent, coldly ordered my life tree cut down. Each scream of the chainsaw ripped through my essence, forcing me to watch as my centuries of life and power drained away with the felled Patriarch. James, with Brenda by his side, mocked my agonizing pain, then further humiliated me, treating me as a mere servant and even trying to extract my very life force for Brenda' s fleeting vanity. The centuries of silent devotion and sacrifice I'd poured into his family felt utterly wasted, reduced to a performance for their twisted entertainment. How could the boy I had subtly guided, whose prosperity I had secretly ensured, turn to such heartless cruelty, dismissing my existence as mere superstition? The betrayal didn't just break my pact; it shattered my being, leaving me on the brink of utter dissolution, wondering if any of his supposed care was ever real. However, just as my fragile form began to dissipate, an ancient call from the true heart of the forest beckoned, igniting a powerful transformation within me as I ascended into a true Forest Guardian. Now reborn, I will reclaim what was stolen and bring a reckoning to those who dared to desecrate the sacred.

My life was a picture-perfect dream. At 21, married to the successful real estate titan Marcus Thorne, I lived in a Manhattan penthouse fit for royalty. He adored me, called me his "Muse," showering me with exquisite art and personal gestures. I was pregnant, and our future, with its "little masterpiece" on the way, felt utterly secure. Then I found a hidden compartment in Marcus’s antique desk, revealing a chilling secret. Inside, a leather-bound scrapbook held dozens of photos of a woman strikingly similar to me—Isabelle Vance. A faded concert ticket, inscribed "For Izzy, my only dream, my eternal muse," confirmed my worst fear. My entire relationship, every tender word, every grand gesture, was a meticulously crafted lie, a painful echo of his past love. Humiliation and devastation washed over me, a physical blow to my gut. I, his beloved "Muse," was merely a stand-in. Our unborn child, conceived in this grand deception, twisted my insides. Brad, Marcus’s best friend, accidentally revealed the truth: "Izzy’s back! Thorne’s already ditching the pregnant kid-bride!" Isabelle herself then flooded my phone with gloating photos and videos of her and Marcus, reliving their old haunts. Every cherished gift, every thoughtful act, was revealed to be a cruel mimicry of his love for her. I was trapped in a gilded cage built on a lie. How could I possibly live with this soul-crushing betrayal? Who was I, truly, if my entire existence within this marriage had been a substitute? The raw despair was unbearable, eclipsing everything. My resolve hardened, brutal and swift. I walked out of my illusionary life, leaving New York and Marcus Thorne, and began the painful process of reclaiming my own future.

His feelings for her oscillated between love and hatred. He wanted her, but he couldn’t get erase the feelings of resentment for her family. After all, Celia was the daughter of the man who had destroyed Hans’s family. And so began their story fueled by his thirst for vengeance. It was not until the day he saw her lying in the pool of blood did he finally realize that he couldn't live without her. Now she had given him a naughty son and it was his turn to pay back the debt of love. Find out how their story unfolds in Naughty Boy: Pay For Love, Daddy.

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."

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.

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."

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.

Two years of marriage left Brinley questioning everything, her supposed happiness revealed as nothing but sham. Abandoning her past for Colin, she discovered only betrayal and a counterfeit wedding. Accepting his heart would stay frozen, she called her estranged father, agreeing to the match he proposed. Laughter followed her, with whispers of Colin's power to toss her aside. Yet, she reinvented herself-legendary racer, casino mastermind, and acclaimed designer. When Colin tried to reclaim her, another man pulled Brinley close. "She's already carrying my child. You can't move on?"