The Vengeful Ex-Fiancée Returns Strong

My plane landed smoothly, yet my heart churned with a nervous hope. I hadn' t told David I was coming, hoping to bridge the growing chasm in our two-year "convenient" marriage-a partnership built more on family connections than genuine affection. But as I watched David Hayes' s assistant, Sarah Jenkins, casually link arms with him at the airport, her "smooth and practiced" voice oozing familiarity, a cold dread began to set in. She looked like a model, not the efficient helper David had mentioned. Her eyes, bright and confident, scanned me from head to toe, making me feel like a specimen under a microscope, an intruder. "You have to be careful, Chloe. Men can get tired of the same old thing. It' s good you came to check up on him," she purred in the car, a thinly veiled warning coated in false sweetness. My husband, David, just gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white, and offered a weak, dismissive laugh. He didn't defend me; he managed the situation. That night, alone in his hotel suite, scrolling through a torrent of screenshots Sarah had mysteriously sent, my world shattered. "It' s a convenient marriage, Sarah. You know that. It' s not about passion." "You and me? We' re about everything else." The words, his words, tore through me like a physical blow. He had a whole vibrant life here-concerts, dinners, milestones-a life I was excluded from. My once protective, encouraging husband, the boy who called me pretty, was gone, replaced by a stranger who saw me as a "plain," "boring" obligation. The next day, during a forced shopping trip, he picked out a scarf for me. "Sarah has one just like it. She has amazing taste," he said. Then, he bought an identical one for her, right in front of me, using our "fresh start" as a cover for his infidelity. "People might compare," he fretted, not worried about me, but about what Sarah or his circle would think if we wore the same thing. My humiliation turned to ice. Then, Sarah appeared, melting into tears at the sight of the scarf, claiming they had picked it out. David, without a moment's hesitation, bolted after her, leaving me standing alone on a crowded street, holding the symbol of his betrayal. "He chose her," my mind screamed, the realization a stark, brutal clarity.

The relentless buzz of my phone announced another rejection, a common melody in the life of a struggling indie filmmaker. Then, my best friend' s panicked face flashed on screen: "Chloe, have you seen the news? It\'s Ethan. His new exhibition. It\'s everywhere." A cold dread washed over me-Ethan, my estranged artist-husband, whose art had always blurred the lines of our life. But what I saw on that major art blog wasn\'t art; it was a violation: intimate photos of me, twisted into a public spectacle, portraying me as his "tragic muse." The comments section exploded: #JusticeForChloe, #CancelEthanMiller, yet it felt like a new form of torment, a public stripping of my privacy. I stormed to his loft, demanding answers, only for him to shrug, "It\'s art, Chloe. It\'s supposed to tell the truth." He stood there, casually threatening to expose painful, private moments to my traditional grandmother if I didn\'t publicly apologize and collaborate in his twisted narrative. Before I could process his cruelty, the phone rang again-the nursing home. My grandmother had fallen. She died in the hospital, her last words a plea for me to be strong, to not let anyone make me feel small, as my humiliated face was plastered across the news. When I returned to the loft, Ethan was there with his new muse, Ava, who, feigning sympathy, accidentally revealed she knew about my grandmother' s death. Then, a charity gala, a public relations stunt, where Ethan unveiled a new sculpture-encasing my grandmother\'s stolen locket, pulled directly from her grave. Ava tearfully accused me, playing the perfect victim, implying I had desecrated her grave for art. Ethan, without hesitation, believed her, his eyes filled with a cold, performative fury, declaring me a monster and having me dragged away. Trapped, discarded, then brutally beaten by Ethan under Ava' s gleeful gaze, I realized the full depth of their monstrous betrayal. My world was shattered, my body broken, but in the ruins of my spirit, a cold, unwavering resolve began to form: Chloe Davis had to die, so Aria Sinclair could rise and burn his world to the ground.

My life with Ethan was a predictable loop: his phone calls about Olivia, his "friend" who always needed him, my forgotten anniversaries, and our shared savings mysteriously funneling into her latest drama. It was exhausting, yet I' d become numb to it, a quiet resignation my constant companion. Then, a stark notification flashed on my sleek, Agency-issued device: "Covenant Term Conclusion: Operative Maya. Extraction Protocol initiated. T-minus seven days." Five years of this life, defined by his neglect and her endless demands, were about to end. Just like that. A profound, almost liberating indifference washed over me. Later, true to form, Ethan called, cancelling our anniversary dinner again because Olivia was having a crisis. He expected my usual quiet frustration, but all I felt was nothing. Every chipped-away piece of me over the years had finally left me utterly empty. He couldn't comprehend my calm "Okay," only that it wasn't the reaction he was used to. He' d barely noticed how deeply I' d funded his dreams, how I' d been the only one holding onto "our" life. What did it all even mean, this existence where I was merely an afterthought, an ATM? But that notification wasn't just an end; it was a beginning. A countdown to an 'extraction protocol' only I understood. The taste of freedom was intoxicating, and I knew, with utter certainty, that the real assignment was just beginning. And this time, it was for me.

For the nearly five years they had been married, Cory had never stayed in their house long. He would come back once a month and ruthlessly pull Susanna into bed as if it was nothing more than routine and what was his to take! She had spent their entire marriage trying to please him and doing her best to be a good wife. And yet, he would still rather enjoy the company of photos and posters of another woman pasted all over the room. Eventually, her hopes were shattered and her stupidity stopped getting the best of her and she signed the divorce agreement. It was only once she had left that he realized he'd lost a piece of his heart when he lost her.

The following day, Nancy had just been released from prison. On the flight back home, she bumped into a man that was all too familiar, Ryan. Long ago, she ended up in bed with him after a cruel trick played by her stepsister. She ended up pregnant after, giving birth to a beautiful baby girl. She had just barely gotten out of the hospital when she was thrown into prison. Now that she was free, she had no other intention in mind but to get her daughter back. Left with no choice, she would have to do everything in her power to get her daughter back whom Ryan had taken away.

Trigger/Content Warning: This story contains mature themes and explicit content intended for adult audiences(18+). Reader discretion is advised. It includes elements such as BDSM dynamics, explicit sexual content, toxic family relationships, occasional violence and strong language. This is not a fluffy romance. It is intense, raw and messy, and explores the darker side of desire. ***** "Take off your dress, Meadow." "Why?" "Because your ex is watching," he said, leaning back into his seat. "And I want him to see what he lost." ••••*••••*••••* Meadow Russell was supposed to get married to the love of her life in Vegas. Instead, she walked in on her twin sister riding her fiance. One drink at the bar turned to ten. One drunken mistake turned into reality. And one stranger's offer turned into a contract that she signed with shaking hands and a diamond ring. Alaric Ashford is the devil in a tailored Tom Ford suit. Billionaire CEO, brutal, possessive. A man born into an empire of blood and steel. He also suffers from a neurological condition-he can't feel. Not objects, not pain, not even human touch. Until Meadow touches him, and he feels everything. And now he owns her. On paper and in his bed. She wants him to ruin her. Take what no one else could have. He wants control, obedience... revenge. But what starts as a transaction slowly turns into something Meadow never saw coming. Obsession, secrets that were never meant to surface, and a pain from the past that threatens to break everything. Alaric doesn't share what's his. Not his company. Not his wife. And definitely not his vengeance.

Her sister is marrying her ex. So she brings her best friend as her fake fiancé. What could possibly go wrong? Savannah Hart thought she was over Dean Archer-until her sister, Chloe announces she's marrying him. The same man Savannah never stopped loving. The man who left her heartbroken... and now belongs to her sister. A weeklong wedding in New Hope. One mansion full of guests. And a very bitter maid of honor. To survive it, Savannah brings a date-her charming, clean-cut best friend, Roman Blackwood. The one man who's always had her back. He owes her a favor, and pretending to be her fiancé? Easy. Until fake kisses start to feel real. Now Savannah's torn between keeping up the act... or risking everything for the one man she was never supposed to fall for.

After hiding her true identity throughout her three-year marriage to Colton, Allison had committed wholeheartedly, only to find herself neglected and pushed toward divorce. Disheartened, she set out to rediscover her true self-a talented perfumer, the mastermind of a famous intelligence agency, and the heir to a secret hacker network. Realizing his mistakes, Colton expressed his regret. "I know I messed up. Please, give me another chance." Yet, Kellan, a once-disabled tycoon, stood up from his wheelchair, took Allison's hand, and scoffed dismissively, "You think she'll take you back? Dream on."

"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."

Betrayed by her fiancé and stepsister a day before her wedding shattered all Lina's dreams about love. She was heartbroken and in pain. Being drugged and unknowingly loosing her virginity to a stranger is not as painful as being betrayed by her loved ones. She promised to make her pretentious step sister and her unfaithful fiancé pay back hundredfold for what they did to her. On her journey to seek revenge, the stranger she had a one night stand with, came knocking at her door with a marriage contract in hand. Without her knowing he was the one she has that blissful one night stand with, she agreed on the marriage contract for some reasons. Will she find out he was the one she had that blissful one night stand with? Will she fall in love with him after being betrayed? Will she be able to get her revenge on those that betrayed her? Find out in this amazing book "Contracted After Being Betrayed"

For three years, Deanna endured scorn in a one-sided marriage. When Connor forced her to choose between her career and a divorce, she didn't hesitate-she walked away. Determined to reclaim her birthright, Deanna returned as the brilliant heiress to a medical conglomerate. Her ex and his family begged for another chance, but it was too late. With a tycoon father, a legendary healer mother, a CEO brother who adored her, and a showbiz powerhouse sibling, Deanna's life overflowed with power. Even her arrogant rival, heir to billions, only ever had a soft spot for her.