When His Past Met Present

They called my family's gift the "Midas touch," uncanny luck ensuring prosperity for those in our orbit. Julian Thorne, from a lineage cursed with men dying before thirty, desperately needed it for his survival. His mother, Victoria, proposed a lucrative partnership to save her son. In my first life, I accepted, pouring my essence into his success, helping him defy fate, celebrating his 30th birthday. But he paraded his new love, Isabelle, and publicly denounced me as a fraud, shattering my reputation. My assets frozen, my name disgraced, everything I had vanished by morning. He then abandoned me at a desolate, chemical waste site, where I died alone and terrified, my hometown withering under his cruel hand. The metallic tang of chemicals, the stench of decay – that memory seared into my soul, a cold reality of his ultimate betrayal. How could the man I saved condemn me to such a horrifying end? Then, I blinked. I was back. Reborn, on the very day Victoria Thorne first offered that cursed contract. My hands steady, I pushed it back. "No," I said, my voice quiet but cutting, shattering the chains of my past and forging a new destiny.

My life as a pastry chef with dreams as sweet as my confections was shattered in an instant. The doctor' s words echoed: "Acute myeloid leukemia." But that diagnosis was only the first blow. Numbly, I returned home, only to discover a hidden folder on my longtime boyfriend Liam' s tablet: "Walker_Harrington_Private." Inside were marriage certificates and photos of Liam, beaming, with his wife, Bella-dated three years ago. My heart didn't just break; it stopped. The man I loved, the one I' d been sketching wedding cakes for, had a secret wife. Then, the true horror unfolded: I overheard Liam casually discussing "the Ava project" with a colleague. His plan? Use me as an incubator for a child for him and Bella, who was barren. He' d meticulously crafted my world, ensuring I had no one but him, even starting malicious rumors during our college days to isolate me. Eight years. My entire future, my security, was a meticulously woven lie. The sickness eating my body felt less painful than the absolute, soul-crushing betrayal. How could I have been so utterly blind? So stupidly devoted to a monster? But in that abyss, a flicker of cold defiance sparked. A brochure for experimental CAR T-cell therapy in Boston. I would fight for my life, but on my own terms. My only path forward: survive the leukemia, and completely disappear from Liam' s monstrous game.

At seven, my mother married a rich man, throwing me into their opulent world. I was supposed to call him "Dad," and get a new life. Instead, I met Ethan, my new stepbrother, a teenager with eyes like ice chips. That very day, he shoved me into an infinity pool, sneering, "Know your place." My own mother, too busy solidifying her new status, hissed, "Don't embarrass me," and locked me in a utility closet. For the next decade, the Sterling mansion became my gilded cage. Ethan systematically made my life hell: torn homework, pushes downstairs, humiliating chores like cleaning his muddy shoes. I became a ghost in the vast house. When my mother was brutally discarded, I lost everything, plummeting into poverty. But Ethan' s torment didn't stop; it followed me, escalating from cyberbullying to physical threats that nearly cost me my life. Just when I thought a scholarship offered escape, he appeared, deliberately sabotaging my university dreams. Desperate, I was forced into his dark, dangerous world. I woke up stark naked in his penthouse, branded his "plaything," his "kept woman." He placed me in the very same condo where his mother had died by suicide. What twisted game was he playing? Did he want me to follow her tragic path? Trapped and pregnant with his child, I made a desperate bid for freedom, attempting to jump from a window, only to miscarry. But from that rock-bottom despair, a flicker ignited. I would not be his victim. I would reclaim my life. This is the story of how I clawed my way out of his personal hell, leaving the tormentor-and his twisted obsession-behind for good.

The music throbbed at my sister Claire' s engagement party. Ethan Prescott, the man I was supposed to marry, stood beside her, glowing. I watched from the sidelines, a polite smile glued to my face, my family' s legendary Aegis Locket cool against my skin. Then Claire screamed. Stumbling into the ballroom, her dress torn, a bruise blooming on her cheek, she pointed directly at me, her voice cracking. "She did this! Rory attacked me! She said I stole Ethan, that I' d pay!" My fiancé, my brother Sam, and even my own mother, instantly believed her lies. They called me a monster. Without a second thought, Ethan ripped the Aegis Locket from my neck, banishing me to "The Hollows," a desolate commune in Maine, for "rehabilitation." Five years I endured there: systematic torture, starvation, brutal beatings, and the ultimate degradation – a searing brand announcing "Property of The Hollows." My once-sharp mind shattered, my identity erased. I became a feral, cowering creature, unable to comprehend the monstrous injustice. How could my family, my beloved Ethan, mistake my horrific abuse for madness, my broken pleas for manipulative acts? Why did they choose to believe the twisted narrative of my venomous sister? When Ethan and Sam finally came to retrieve me, repulsed by the shattered woman before them, my raw, branded body was exposed during a cruel "penance" ritual. With nothing left but shame and despair, I lunged towards the cliff's edge, escaping their judgment, escaping everything, by throwing myself into the raging abyss below.

I woke up in a hospital, my past a blank beyond my 18th year. The doctor said I was 27, even a talented architect, and married. But the woman they introduced as my wife, Sophia, was a cold, stunning stranger. She looked at me with thinly veiled contempt. She spoke of my nine lost years as a descent into breakdowns and "pathetic" dependence. My supposed best friend, Ethan Vance, was her true confidante, a smirking rival. Disgust curdled in my gut. This wasn't me. My 18-year-old self, full of ambition and drive, recoiled from this emasculated shadow of a man they described. How could I have become a "kept man," constantly ridiculed, chasing the approval of an ice queen? The humiliation was palpable, preserved in flashed cameras and casual insults. But this amnesia, this blank slate, felt like a gift. It stripped away the years of self-erasure, leaving behind only the core of who I was. And that core wanted nothing to do with this suffocating, demeaning life. "I want a divorce," I told her, my voice surprisingly firm. "The me I know wouldn't be married to someone who calls him pathetic." This was no act, no episode. This was me, fighting to reclaim a life I didn't remember. A life free from the woman who claimed to be my wife and the rival who wanted me utterly destroyed. Little did I know, the fight for my true identity would lead to a bloody confrontation and a shocking revelation that would change everything.

The heavy scent of grilled meat and expensive cologne filled the private room at Harris' Steakhouse. My tech CEO husband, Mark, called it a "boys' night out," but I was there, a silent fixture at the dark wood table, habitually ignored. His tech bro friends, Kevin and Josh, flanked him, their laughter growing too loud. Then, in a momentary lull, I calmly stated, "I' m thinking about it too," referring to getting a divorce. The entire table erupted, not in surprise, but in loud, condescending laughter, Mark' s the loudest of all. He wiped a tear from his eye and sneered, "You? Divorce me? What do you have without me, Sarah? You dropped out of Vassar, remember? For me. You think you can survive for a week without my money?" His friend Kevin, already flushed from too much wine, then slurred a public dare, "If you actually divorce Mark, I swear, I' ll live-stream chugging a blended concoction of the grossest things!" They truly believed I was a fragile, dependent ornament, easily controlled. They saw only a trophy wife, utterly incapable of independent thought or action. They didn't see the cold, hard knot of pure resolve tightening inside my gut. They certainly didn't know about the countless hours I'd spent in our Atherton mansion's library, diligently studying California community property law. A tiny, almost imperceptible smile touched my lips as I met their gazes. "No, Mark," I said, standing slowly, my voice cool and even, "I don' t think I will apologize; in fact, I've already had divorce papers drawn up." My lawyer would be in touch with his. Weeks later, when his young intern, Tiffany, smugly tried to announce her fake pregnancy at a family dinner, I exposed Mark's zero sperm count to his horrified mother and everyone present. They had utterly underestimated me, and my meticulously researched plan to reclaim my life had just begun.

Rejected by her mate, who had been her long-time crush, Jasmine felt utterly humiliated. Seeking solace, she headed to a party to drown her sorrows. But things took a turn for the worse when her friends issued a cruel dare: kiss a stranger or beg her mate for forgiveness. With no other choice, Jasmine approached a stranger and kissed him, thinking that would be the end of it. However, the stranger unexpectedly wrapped his arms around her waist and whispered in her ear, "You're mine!" He growled, his words sending shivers down her spine. And then, he offered her a solution that would change everything...

It took only a second for a person's world to come crashing down. This was what happened in Hannah's case. For four years, she gave her husband her all, but one day, he said emotionlessly, "Let's get divorced." Hannah's heart broke into a million pieces as she signed the divorce papers, marking the end of her role as a devoted wife. Within Hannah, a strong woman awakened, vowing never to be beholden to any man again. Embracing her new life, she embarked on a journey to find herself and command her own destiny. By the time she returned, she had experienced so much growth and was now completely different from the docile wife everyone once knew. "Is this your latest trick to get my attention?" Hannah's ever-so-arrogant husband asked. Before she could retort, a handsome and domineering CEO pulled her into his embrace. He smiled down at her and said boldly to her ex, "Just a little heads-up, mister. This is my beloved wife. Keep off!"

Janet was adopted when she was a kid -- a dream come true for orphans. However, her life was anything but happy. Her adoptive mother taunted and bullied her all her life. Janet got the love and affection of a parent from the old maid who raised her. Unfortunately, the old woman fell ill, and Janet had to marry a worthless man in place of her parents' biological daughter to meet the maid's medical expenses. Could this be a Cinderella's tale? But the man was far from a prince, except for his handsome appearance. Ethan was the illegitimate son of a wealthy family who lived a reckless life and barely made ends meet. He got married to fulfill his mother's last wish. However, on his wedding night, he had an inkling that his wife was different from what he had heard about her. Fate had united the two people with deep secrets. Was Ethan truly the man we thought he was? Surprisingly, he bore an uncanny resemblance to the impenetrable wealthiest man in the city. Would he find out that Janet married him in place of her sister? Would their marriage be a romantic tale or an utter disaster? Read on to unravel Janet and Ethan's journey.

Sera Vale was sold like a slave. Dragged from her home in chains. Stripped of everything and handed to the most feared Alpha who is also a Mafia, as payment for a debt she didn't owe. Lucien Virelli doesn't believe in mercy. He rules with bullets. Breathes violence. Fucks like a beast. And when Sera is thrown at his feet, he doesn't see a girl. He sees prey. A mystery. Something that should not exist. She was told her entire life she was nothing. No wolf. No power. No purpose. Just a broken girl with a cursed bloodline and a dead mother who took the truth to the grave. But Lucien sees it. Smells it. Wants it. He doesn't want to protect her. He wants to tame her. Mark her. Breed her. Make her scream until her wolf rips out of her body and begs him to take it. What he wants from her isn't gentle. It isn't safe. And it sure as hell isn't human. He touches her like he owns her. Looks at her like he's already inside her. And when she finally begs. He makes her earn it. Now she's trapped in a world she doesn't understand. Craving a monster she should fear and drowning in a heat she swore she'd never feel. This isn't just a love story. It's a dark craving that takes over your body and doesn't let go.

Doing a part-time job in a speakeasy bar, Wendy got drunk unexpectedly. When she woke up, she found that she was regarded as a call girl and lost her virginity. After having a one-night stand with Charlie, an incredibly handsome man, Wendy threw out two hundred dollars to defend her own dignity. However, Wendy's arrogant actions annoyed Charlie, who grabbed Wendy back to bed repeatedly for revenge. "What do you want?" Wendy was annoyed. "Be responsible for what I did to you." Charlie smiled. "But how?" Wendy continued. "By keeping sleeping with you."

Rumors claimed that Fernanda, newly back with her family, was nothing more than a violent country bumpkin. Fernanda just flashed a casual, dismissive grin in response. Another rumor suggested that the usually rational Cristian had lost all sense, madly in love with Fernanda. This frustrated her. She could tolerate gossip about herself, but slander against her beloved crossed the line! Gradually, as Fernanda's multiple identities as a celebrated designer, a savvy gamer, an acclaimed painter, and a successful business magnate came to light, everyone realized they were the ones who had been fooled.