/1/104375/coverbig.jpg?v=48a1fdc97ccc048290ddf44072f5ed50)
I was the perfect Sterling wife, living in a multi-million dollar Upper East Side townhouse where every hair had to be in place. I thought my only job was to look beautiful at Julian's side and maintain the image of a flawless high-society marriage. But the illusion shattered when Julian came home smelling of a cheap, floral perfume that definitely wasn't mine. I followed him to The Pierre Hotel, the very place we spent our honeymoon, and caught him in a bathrobe with a younger woman who looked at me with pure triumph. When I demanded a divorce, Julian didn't even flinch; he just laughed and showed me his true colors. He revealed he was personally funding the experimental treatment keeping my comatose father alive, and he threatened to pull the plug the moment I walked away. He told me I was nothing more than "breeding stock" needed to secure his inheritance, and I discovered his family was actively plotting to steal my father's billion-dollar medical patent. When I tried to resist, he backhanded me across the face and told me to fix my makeup because we had a gala to attend. I stood in a ballroom full of New York's elite with a bruised jaw hidden under heavy foundation, realizing that every person I trusted had been bought. My own family lawyer turned his back on me, leaving me alone in a den of wolves who were waiting for my father to die so they could strip his legacy bare. The injustice burned through my grief, turning my despair into a cold, sharp rage. I realized that playing by the rules had only made me a target, and if I wanted to survive, I had to become more dangerous than the men trying to destroy me. That was when I ran into Sebastian Sterling, Julian's uncle and the most feared predator on Wall Street. He saw the bruise Julian tried to hide and whispered that he didn't do charity, but he did hate weakness. I looked into the eyes of the man they called "The Reaper" and realized he was the only one powerful enough to help me burn the Sterling empire to the ground. "Help me," I said, stepping into his shadow. "And I'll give you everything they're trying to steal."
Contents
Chapter 1 1
The strap of the emerald evening gown dug into Elena Vance's shoulder, a sharp reminder that perfection required pain. She stood before the floor-to-ceiling window of the master suite in their Upper East Side townhouse, the city lights sprawling below like a spilled jewelry box, but her reflection in the glass was what held her attention. Every hair was in place. Her lipstick was the precise shade of crimson Julian preferred. She was the portrait of a Sterling wife.
The front door slammed downstairs, the sound reverberating up the marble staircase.
Elena didn't flinch, but the muscles in her stomach tightened. Julian was home. She turned, a practiced smile plastering itself onto her face, watching as her husband strode into the room. He didn't look at her. He didn't even pause. He walked straight past her toward the walk-in closet, his fingers already loosening the knot of his silk tie.
"You're late," she said, her voice soft, careful not to sound accusing. "The reservation is in thirty minutes."
"Merger talks ran over," Julian threw over his shoulder, his voice muffled by the closet door. "I need to change. This tie is suffocating."
Elena followed him to the doorway. He was stripping off his shirt, his back muscles tense. She stepped forward, reaching out to help him with the collar, a gesture of intimacy she had performed a thousand times. Her fingers brushed the fabric of his shirt, and then she froze.
It wasn't the texture of the cotton that stopped her. It was the smell.
Clinging to the collar, beneath the scent of his expensive cologne and the stale air of the office, was a floral sweetness. It was heavy, synthetic, and aggressive. Not her perfume. She wore Jo Malone's Wood Sage & Sea Salt, a subtle scent. This was something louder, a cheap, cloying tuberose that screamed for attention.
Her hand hovered in the air, trembling slightly. Julian turned abruptly, flinching away from her touch as if she had burned him.
"I can do it myself, Elena," he snapped, tossing the shirt into the hamper with unnecessary force. "I'm not an invalid. Just let me breathe for a second, will you? The pressure today was insane."
Elena lowered her hand slowly to her side. She clenched her fingers into a fist, hiding the tremor. "Of course. I'll wait in the living room."
She turned to leave, her heart hammering a frantic rhythm against her ribs. On the bedside table, Julian's phone began to buzz. It vibrated violently against the mahogany surface, the screen lighting up the dim room.
Elena's eyes darted to it. The caller ID simply said: Office.
But the preview message below it was visible for a split second before the screen went dark. Three words.
I miss you.
The air left the room. Elena felt as if the floor had tilted beneath her feet. "Office" didn't miss people. "Office" didn't send texts at 7:30 PM on a Friday with emotional declarations.
Julian lunged past her. He snatched the phone from the nightstand with the reflexes of a cornered animal. He glanced at the screen, his jaw tightening, before shoving it into his pocket.
"Just the legal team," he said, his voice too high, too quick. "They sent a draft to the wrong number. Idiots. I'll fire them on Monday."
"Right," Elena said. Her throat felt dry, like she had swallowed sand. "Legal team."
She didn't argue. She didn't scream. She had learned long ago that screaming at Julian only made him retreat behind walls of ice. Instead, she swallowed the bile rising in her throat and walked out to the foyer.
The ride to the restaurant was a study in silence. The interior of the Rolls Royce was hermetically sealed against the noise of New York, leaving them trapped in a quiet so thick it felt heavy. The driver kept the partition up. The radio hummed with a recap of the week's closing figures-the NASDAQ had closed down significantly, while oil futures were rallying.
Elena stared out the window. Her reflection in the dark glass looked ghostly. She wondered if the woman in the glass knew her marriage was over, or if she was just as blind as Elena had been until ten minutes ago.
Dinner was worse. Per Se was elegant, expensive, and suffocating. Julian spent the entire meal checking his watch or tapping furiously under the table on his phone. He barely touched his wine. He didn't touch her.
"I need to use the restroom," Julian said abruptly, standing up before the appetizers had even been cleared.
Elena watched him go. He didn't head toward the restrooms. He walked toward the corridor that led to the private call booths and the back exit.
She waited ten seconds. Then she stood up, smoothing her napkin over the table. "Excuse me," she murmured to the empty air.
She followed him. Her heels made no sound on the plush carpet. She reached the corner of the corridor and stopped, pressing her back against the cool velvet wallpaper.
Julian's voice drifted around the corner. It was low, intimate, a tone he hadn't used with her in years.
"Don't be impatient, baby," he murmured. A pause. Then a laugh-a low, throaty sound that made Elena's stomach lurch. "I know. It's unbearable sitting here looking at her. It'll be over soon. I just have to drop her off."
Elena pressed a hand over her mouth. The physical sensation of heartbreak was not a crack, but a collapse. It felt like her internal organs were liquefying. She turned and walked back to the table, her legs moving on autopilot. She sat down. She took a sip of water. Her hand was shaking so badly the ice cubes clinked against the glass.
When Julian returned five minutes later, he looked energized.
"Something came up," he said, signaling for the check. "Emergency acquisition meeting. I have to go back to the office tonight. I'll drop you at home first."
"Okay," Elena said. Her voice sounded like it was coming from underwater.
He dropped her at the curb of their townhouse on the Upper East Side. He didn't even wait for her to unlock the heavy oak front door before the Rolls Royce pulled away, disappearing into the traffic.
Elena walked into the empty house. It was cold. It always felt cold now. She kicked off her heels, leaving them in the middle of the foyer, and walked barefoot across the marble floor. The cold stone bit into her skin.
She went to the study. She opened the drawer where they kept the household electronics. Julian was careless with technology because he was arrogant; he assumed she was too stupid or too obedient to check. She found his old iPhone 8, the one he kept for international travel sims.
She opened the "Find My" app.
Password Required.
He had changed the iCloud password. The sync was broken.
A laugh bubbled up in her throat, sounding more like a sob. He had cut the digital leash. But Julian Sterling was a creature of habit, and his arrogance was his blind spot. He hadn't wiped the biometric login on the banking apps on this older device.
She pressed her thumb to the home button. It failed. She tried the passcode-his birthday. Incorrect. She tried the passcode he used for everything else: the date he took over as CEO.
Access Granted.
She opened the banking app for the American Express Centurion card. He had removed her notification alerts, but he couldn't block the authorized user history on the master account view.
She refreshed the 'Pending Transactions' tab.
The Pierre Hotel. Room Service. $450.00. 10 minutes ago.
Elena stared at the screen. The Pierre. They had spent their honeymoon there. He had taken her there for their first anniversary. It was their place.
The cruelty of it took her breath away. He wasn't just cheating; he was defiling their history.
Her phone chimed in her hand. A notification from Instagram. A direct message request from a user named "Quinn_L". No profile picture.
Elena's thumb hovered over the screen. A primal instinct screamed at her to throw the phone away, to not look, to live in the ignorance for just one more hour.
She tapped Accept.
A photo loaded.
It was a close-up. A man's hand resting on a thigh covered in black lace. The hand was unmistakable. Long fingers, manicured nails. But it was the watch that made Elena run to the bathroom and dry heave over the sink.
It was a Patek Philippe Nautilus with a custom blue dial. She had bought it for him. She had spent six months hunting it down for his thirtieth birthday.
She gripped the porcelain sink, staring at her reflection. Mascara ran down her cheeks like black tears. She looked wrecked. She looked pathetic.
"No," she whispered to the empty room.
The sadness evaporated, replaced by a heat that started in her chest and spread to her fingertips. It was a burning, purifying rage.
She wiped her face with the back of her hand, smearing the makeup further. She grabbed her car keys from the console table. Not the keys to the sedan she usually drove. The keys to the Porsche 911 Targa that sat under a tarp in the garage.
She marched to the garage, the heels of her bare feet slapping against the concrete. She ripped the tarp off. The engine roared to life, a guttural growl that echoed off the walls.
She punched the GPS. The Pierre Hotel. 15 minutes.
She held down the record button on WhatsApp, sending a voice note to Sierra. Her voice was steady, terrifyingly calm.
"He's at The Pierre. I'm going to catch him."
She slammed the car into gear. The tires screeched as she shot out of the garage, merging into the stream of yellow taxis and black sedans, a red blur cutting through the veins of the city.
View More Comments on App
Other books by Dolores
More/1/103128/coverbig.jpg?v=20260106222938)
My Birthday, His Cruel Betrayal
ModernOn my 28th birthday, my superstar boyfriend, Jarrett, stood me up. He had to comfort his co-star, Kisha. A few hours later, I saw the paparazzi photo that ended our seven-year relationship. Jarrett was in a dimly lit bar, his arm wrapped around a tear-streaked Kisha, her head on his shoulder. The next morning, I confronted him. He insisted it was just "method acting." "She was just drunk," he said, running a hand through his hair. "Confessing her feelings for her character." He called me dramatic and paranoid for questioning him. He said I was throwing away seven years over a "stupid photo." It was the same gaslighting he'd used for years, wrapping his emotional infidelity in a pretty little "method acting" bow. But this time, I didn't cry. I felt a sudden, chilling calm. "I regret every second I wasted loving you," I told him. "We are over."
/0/97552/coverbig.jpg?v=31e9076a432ed4233291448de0ac2dbc)
He Loved Her, Not His Wife
BillionairesFor five years, I was the ghost in my billionaire husband's mansion. I accepted his coldness, believing the ruthless tech mogul was simply incapable of love. That lie shattered when I saw him abandon a ten-billion-dollar merger to kneel on a dirty police station floor and tie his mistress's shoelace. His cruelty escalated. He had me dragged from a surgical table to cook for her. He let her destroy my life's work, then held me down as she sliced my hands with the broken marble. To appease her, he forced me to pick up broken glass from a pool with my bare hands, my blood clouding the water as the party guests watched in silence. He wasn't incapable of love. He was just incapable of loving me. But in her final act of humiliation, his mistress made a fatal mistake. Thinking she was signing a document to get rid of me, she used his legally binding personal seal and stamped our divorce papers. She thought she was ending me; instead, she set me free.
/0/94013/coverbig.jpg?v=5e5ee5fcda63fe35a953bd47de914707)
Betrayed Love, A Secret Heiress Rises
BillionairesFor five years, I put my life on hold to help my boyfriend, Jace, build our dream hotel. I hid my identity as the sole heiress to a culinary empire, pretending to be ordinary just to protect his fragile ego. Tonight was supposed to be the night we finally signed the papers and made it all real. But he showed up late with his junior colleague, Kathie, on his arm. For the twelfth time, he canceled everything for one of her manufactured crises, leaving me standing alone with our investors. The next day, in front of our entire office, he gifted Kathie a diamond tennis bracelet-the exact one I' d once admired, only for him to call it a waste of money. He looked at my stunned silence and had the nerve to ask, "Can't you just be happy for your colleague?" That night, he tried to make it up to me by ordering my "favorite" dish at dinner. It was a seafood stew I'm deathly allergic to, a fact he swore on our third date he'd never forget. He hadn't forgotten me; he had simply replaced my memory with hers. He thought he was trading up for a cheap diamond. He had no idea he was throwing away a kingdom. So I smashed the model of our shared dream to pieces, booked a one-way ticket home to Napa Valley, and blocked his number. It was time to show him exactly what he had lost.
/0/86832/coverbig.jpg?v=c6a4938ac3f335e916c0e1138d997e9f)
The Wife He Sacrificed
ModernFive times, I had felt the flutter of life inside me, only to have it stolen away. Five times, I bled and cried. This sixth time, pregnant again, I held the secret tight, terrified Emily would find a way to blow it out. Then, the storm hit: Emily was sick, leukemia, and I was the only perfect bone marrow match. David, my husband, the man who' d seen me through five losses, told me it was just "a collection of cells" and forced me to terminate our baby. He had it all planned out: my body, my child, my future, all sacrificed for Emily. He called it a "medical necessity," even as he destroyed the one locket I kept, a memento for our lost daughter, because Emily "needed symbols of hope." I laid on my hospital bed, having survived severe anaphylaxis after he forced me to consume shellfish I was deathly allergic to, a soup Emily had deliberately requested. I realized he had tried to kill me, for her. The man I married, who promised to protect me, had systematically dismantled me. He saw my pain as an inconvenience, my children as obstacles. I was trapped, isolated, with nowhere to go. But in that moment of absolute devastation, a cold, hard certainty was born. While he was planning how to use my body to save his sister, I was planning my escape. Olivia Clark was gone for good, and Ava Miller was about to be reborn.
/0/85474/coverbig.jpg?v=22a024daefd930ea8dabb5adda30ba5d)
The Woman I Loved, My Ruin
Sci-fiThe static hiss was the sound of silence, of 108 voices gone. My men, Seal Team Seven, gone. It was supposed to be a routine urban mission, but then a dazzling drone light show filled the sky, communications died, and a single, gasping voice whispered: "...they' re all gone…" The gut-wrenching truth unfolded: a tech mogul' s "future city" launch, Liam Vance, had inadvertently jammed our encrypted channels. But the deepest cut? This mogul was Liam Vance, my wife Dr. Seraphina Vance' s brother. And the technology powering his show, the very tech that sealed my men' s fate, was experimental military gear from my unit's field hospital, requisitioned by Sera herself. When I confronted her, still reeling from the horrific casualty report, she coolly declared them "collateral damage," a necessary sacrifice for "a much greater good." My wife, the woman I loved, stood there with champagne in hand, defending the man who murdered my men. How could she betray not just me, but the very lives I swore to protect, for some twisted vision of progress? The love I felt curdled into a cold, hard resolve. She wanted a future built on the graves of my soldiers? Fine. I would dismantle their empire brick by bloody brick, starting now.
/0/84873/coverbig.jpg?v=bf6476f40b9da534d50eaa91089c092a)
Framed Father's Fierce Flight
ModernThe laughter from my living room, once a cherished sound, now felt like a constant reminder of my invisibility. My wife, Sophia, and our children, Lucas and Mia, hung on every word of my charming brother, Ethan, on screen-a level of admiration they never afforded me, the stay-at-home dad who managed their entire lives. Then, Mia' s innocent question hit like a physical blow: "Does that mean Uncle Ethan can come live with us? He could be our new dad!" Lucas eagerly agreed, "He's way more fun than Dad." Their words, fueled by Sophia' s constant undermining and Ethan' s manipulation, confirmed they had already replaced me. When I tried to leave, they escalated. Lucas and Mia trashed my belongings, writing "LOSER DAD" on my pillow. Despite my calm, Lucas shoved me, sending my head crashing against a dresser. As I lay bleeding and disoriented, Sophia, seeing a convenient escape, called 911, accusing me of "trashing the room" and "scaring the children." The injustice was crushing. How could the family I sacrificed everything for not only betray me but then frame me as the villain? The children I raised, now strangers, were echoing their mother' s twisted narrative. Their combined cruelty and her calculated performance left me speechless, but a quiet resolve began to harden. I would leave this place, this life built on my sacrifice and their ingratitude. I would fight for my freedom, even if it meant dismantling the image of the perfect family they so readily discarded.
You'll also like
/0/86394/coverbig.jpg?v=6c717af0cf3e2e392924cb63e04f2a1b)
Irresistible Seduction: Married For Deception, Loved For Real
Chickie KertisFive years into marriage, Hannah caught Vincent slipping into a hotel with his first love-the woman he never forgot. The sight told her everything-he'd married her only for her resemblance to his true love. Hurt, she conned him into signing the divorce papers and, a month later, said, "Vincent, I'm done. May you two stay chained together." Red-eyed, he hugged her. "You came after me first." Her firm soon rocketed toward an IPO. At the launch, Vincent watched her clasp another man's hand. In the fitting room, he cornered her, tears burning in his eyes. "Is he really that perfect? Hannah, I'm sorry... marry me again."
/0/98478/coverbig.jpg?v=927d35927a69a3203fdac828619f8bd6)
The Bride He Cast Away on Their Wedding Night
PageProfit StudioIn the glittering world of high society and cutthroat ambition, a single sentence shatters a marriage: "Let's get a divorce." For three years, Claire Thompson has lived in exile, her marriage to the powerful Nelson Cooper a hollow shell existing only on paper. Shipped abroad on her wedding day and utterly forgotten, she returns only to be handed divorce papers. But Claire is no longer the timid, heartbroken girl she once was. Behind her quiet facade lies a woman transformed, secretly rejoicing at her newfound freedom. However, freedom comes with a price. As Claire signs the papers with relief, a chilling phone call reveals a dark truth: the threats she faced overseas were no accident, and the trail leads shockingly close to home-to the family that raised her and the husband who discarded her. Just as she prepares to sever all ties, a twist of fate pulls her back into the gilded cage. Nelson, for reasons unknown, suddenly stalls the divorce. Meanwhile, the family that disowned her and the fragile, manipulative sister who stole her life are determined to ruin her reputation and drive her out for good. But Claire is playing a different game now. With a mysterious new identity, powerful allies, and secrets of her own, she is no one's pawn. As hidden truths unravel and loyalties are tested, a stunning question emerges: In this high-stakes battle of love, betrayal, and revenge, who is truly trapping whom?
/1/101068/coverbig.jpg?v=f6ab5c1b8c897b9c5868c7166ea93748)
After Leaving, Her Three Brothers Beg For Forgiveness
Elara QuinnKathryn was the true daughter, but Jolene stole her life and set her up for ruin. After a brutal kidnapping scheme, Kathryn's loyalty to her brothers and fiancé was met with cruel betrayal. Narrowly escaping, she chose to cut all ties and never forgive them. Then she shocked the world: the miracle doctor for the elite, a top-tier hacker, a financial mastermind, and now the untouchable star her family could only watch from afar. Her brothers begged, her parents pleaded, her ex wanted her back-Kathryn exposed them all. The world gasped as the richest man confessed his love for her.
/0/71279/coverbig.jpg?v=9e49a76b6b5eef1f9b662f77b9729717)
Marrying A Secret Zillionaire: Happy Ever After
Hamid BawdekarLinsey 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."
/0/75796/coverbig.jpg?v=7fa49608a32ed5c0cfde642b9545384e)
Rising From Ashes: The Heiress They Tried To Erase
Sarene VosgerchianMaia 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.
/0/92811/coverbig.jpg?v=e6a58467c814dabe499538a9b77737c3)
Destiny's Choice: Married The Man They Called Unlovable
Lila RiversSophie 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."
© 2018-now CHANGDU (HK) TECHNOLOGY LIMITED
6/F MANULIFE PLACE 348 KWUN TONG ROAD KL
Referrals
TOP
APP STORE
GOOGLE PLAY