Tricked the Billionaire into Divorcing Me

For two years, I was Alpha Jase Davenport's loyal assistant and secret bed-warmer. Because I was a wolfless Omega, I trusted his empty promises instead of instincts I didn't possess. Then, a push notification from a notorious gossip blog shattered my world. Jase was pictured in Paris, his hand intimately resting on the waist of my cruel stepsister, Kira. The headline screamed that he was finally claiming his fated Luna. Before I could even process the betrayal, Jase texted me a cold command to update his schedule, treating me like a soulless employee. Immediately after, my mother called to gloat. "Did you honestly believe an Alpha like Jase would settle for a defective creature like you?" She threatened to freeze my late father's Pack trust fund unless I agreed to marry an abusive, elderly Alpha to be his breeding mare. If I refused, I would be cast out as a penniless stray, easy prey for any Rogue. I was nothing but a convenient placeholder to Jase, and a piece of livestock to my own family. They thought they had me completely cornered, ready to steal my inheritance and leave me to die. But as the panic subsided, a cold clarity took its place. My father's will only required a legal mating bond to unlock my millions; it never said my family had to approve of the groom. I wiped my tears, opened my laptop, and searched for a disgraced, debt-ridden Rogue named Babe Vincent. If I needed a husband on paper to secure my freedom, I was going to buy one.

I was an Omega with the sacred face of the Moon Goddess, betrothed to Alpha Prince Rowan to unite our ancient bloodlines. But on my coming-of-age night, he spiked my wine with a heat-inducing poison and gifted me to a Beta Judge named Silas. He did it just to prove a cruel point and steal Silas's lover, Selene. Ruined and discarded, I was forced into Silas's estate. When Selene jealously pushed me into a pool of burning silver, Silas cowardly let her take my only healing medicine. Worse, to protect Selene's crimes from the royal court, Silas framed my innocent brother and threw him in the underground dungeon. I was left covered in agonizing burns, my family destroyed, while these men traded our lives like cheap currency. When Rowan finally realized I was his true Fated Mate, he didn't apologize for the torture he put me through. Instead, he used my brother's execution warrant to force me back into his royal cage. "I do not care if history remembers me as a tyrant, I care only that you are mine." So, I smiled and played the perfect, broken Luna. But in the shadows, I slipped a cursed, treasonous blade into his private safe. I was going to strip the Alpha of his crown and leave this wretched pack forever.

Elena Bailey’s marriage to billionaire heir Barrett Harding had never been a love story. It was a cold arrangement wrapped in diamonds, a beautiful ceremony with no marriage inside it. After months abroad, Barrett returned to New York with a lavish yacht party, champagne, cameras, and socialites hanging on his arm. Everyone knew the Harding heir was back. Everyone except his wife. When Barrett finally came home, he treated Elena like an unwanted inconvenience. At a formal family dinner, he humiliated her in front of his parents, and they watched with cold approval, as if his wife were worth less than the servants who whispered about her behind her back. Then, later that night, he pulled over beside a dark highway exit, unclipped her seatbelt, and ordered her out of his car so he could go meet another woman. That was when Elena finally stopped begging for a marriage that had never existed. But one question refused to leave her alone. If the Hardings despised her so much, why had they insisted Barrett marry her in the first place? When Elena confronted her mother-in-law, the always-composed Eleanor Harding finally cracked. “Name your price, Elena. How much will it take for you to sign the NDA and disappear quietly?” Then Eleanor pushed an eight-figure check across the table. Elena looked at the money and understood the truth. She had never been the lucky orphan who married into power. She had been chosen. Used. Buried inside a secret rotten enough to terrify one of New York’s most untouchable families. So Elena walked away from the money, ordered her lawyer to serve the divorce papers, and made herself a promise. She would uncover the truth. And when she was done, the Harding empire would burn.

For five years, Chloe's only goal was to build a family with her billionaire husband, Julian. But at the fertility clinic, a nurse accidentally handed her the wrong clipboard. The pregnant patient's name was Isabelle, and the emergency contact was Julian Sterling, complete with his unmistakable signature. Tracking his car to a private club, Chloe peered through a cracked door and saw Julian lounging with a pregnant woman. "Don't worry about Chloe," Julian laughed to his friends. "That fake marriage certificate is all it takes to keep her happy. She's just a free, live-in caretaker." A trip to the city archives confirmed the brutal truth: there was no record of their wedding. She was legally single. Her entire life was a carefully constructed fraud. The billion-dollar company she helped build with her genius patents was entirely in his name. He even moved the pregnant mistress into their penthouse, claiming she had a stalker. Worse, Chloe found hidden Ambien pills in his nightstand. He had been secretly drugging her every night just so he could sneak into the guest room to sleep with Isabelle. Five years of absolute devotion, rewarded with a fake marriage, stolen life's work, and chemical assault. How could the man she loved be such a calculating monster? Sitting in the dark, the last ember of her love turned to ash. Chloe wiped her tears, transferred her assets, and put on her sharpest power suit. She wasn't going to just leave; she was going to tear his empire to the ground.

For three years, Aria Beaumont lived as a ghost, sacrificing her identity as a bestselling author to be the secret wife of billionaire Julian Vanderbilt. On their third anniversary, instead of a celebration, Julian handed her a cold, legal document. "I want to end our marriage. I am in love with someone else." He was leaving her for Isabelle Vance, Hollywood's reigning sweetheart. Aria didn't beg or cry. She signed the divorce papers, threw her platinum wedding band into a koi pond, and walked away to rebuild her life. But her quiet surrender wasn't enough for the new couple. Isabelle orchestrated a paparazzi ambush, lured Aria to a secluded resort under the guise of a peace offering, and drugged her tea. As the heavy sedative pulled Aria under, Isabelle smiled and let two hired thugs into the room. She planned to film a sordid, drug-fueled assault to utterly destroy Aria's reputation and frame her as an unstable ex-wife. Fighting through the haze, Aria slashed her way out with a shard of broken glass and barely escaped with her life. Waking up in a sterile hospital bed, Aria was consumed by a chilling confusion. She had given up the marriage without a single fight. Why were they still trying to push her to the brink of death? Before she could process the trauma, her cousin rushed into the room with a pale face. "Aria, no one has heard from your brother in forty-eight hours. He's missing." The divorce wasn't just a betrayal. It was a calculated hunt, and Aria was finally ready to strike back.

I woke up in a squalid apartment with a splitting headache, realizing I had lost an entire year of my life. For twelve months, my body had been piloted by someone else. Before I could even process the agony in my brain, the family butler dragged me back to my wealthy, toxic home. That's when I found out my "other self" had publicly drugged Clay Tate, a prominent heir, turning me into a desperate, unhinged laughingstock. My father didn't care about my blackouts or the blinding pain in my head. He froze all my accounts and threatened me. "You will get on your knees, and you will apologize to their son." My stepmother fanned the flames of his rage, while my stepsister Blair played the perfect, concerned angel, secretly ensuring the whole school gossiped about how pathetic I was. When I went to school, everyone looked at me with pure disgust, treating me like a diseased pariah. I didn't even remember doing any of it. Why had the other me targeted Clay so obsessively? And to make matters worse, the only cure for my neurological torture—a rare Ghost Orchid—was snatched right in front of me by my cold-blooded arranged fiancé, Julian Astor-Vance. I refused to be their helpless scapegoat for another second. I tracked the billionaire down to a dingy convenience store and blocked his wheelchair. "Give it back to me." This time, I was taking control of my own life.