After My Husband Gave Our House To His Mistress
I secretly enrolled in a classified national program without informing my husband, Elijah, who happens to be our team's leader. Initially, he didn't think much of it. He merely assumed I had become more compliant. Even when he decided to give a promotion opportunity from the organization to his first love, I remained unfazed. Then he proposed transferring the property meant for me to Paisley, his first love, and asked me to help raise her child. I agreed with a smile, my eyes briefly flickering to the notification of my successful application in my hand. Elijah frowned slightly and warned, "Don't try any tricks. If you change your mind, I'll divorce you immediately!"
Feigning concern, I asked, "But if the house goes to her, where will I live?"
"The organization has assigned me another place, hasn’t it? Paisley and her kid have a tough life; show some compassion!"
Hearing his cold words, I couldn't help but feel a secret satisfaction. With his generous nature, he might be open to donating all his assets to the Heartland Welfare Foundation, right?
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Chapter 4
Recently, my workplace provided me with an apartment. Unfortunately, Paisley Campbell missed the opportunity, so she and her son Ace are still living in the apartment Elijah Watkins rented.
During the tour of the apartment, Paisley's eyes filled with tears. "I wish I could have a place like this," she said wistfully. "It would mean Ace wouldn't have to keep moving around with me."
Without hesitation, Elijah promised to give her my apartment. I hesitated and instinctively glanced at the file in my drawer. It didn't contain any property transfer papers, but rather the confidentiality agreement for a major project I had signed.
Seeing my hesitation, Elijah misinterpreted my pause and frowned. "We agreed on this, right? Don’t start getting second thoughts. If you change your mind, I’ll divorce you right away!"
Feigning concern, I asked, "But if I give her the apartment, where will I stay?"
Elijah replied impatiently, "Didn’t you also get another one assigned to me? It's tough for Paisley and Ace as a single mom and child—you should show some kindness!"
He paused and then added, "And when you're around Ace, try not to look so stern—it might frighten him."
"Our child is gone, but can't you treat Paisley's son as if he were our own and help take care of them for me?"
With that, he headed to the living room to call the security staff to move the furniture out.
I quickly caught up with him and flashed a cheerful smile. "Isn't it too late to bother them now?"
"I'll handle it tomorrow."
"And I'll make sure to deliver the property papers, giving both you and Paisley a wonderful surprise!"
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8.0
I removed an intern from an award nomination for stealing my dead sister's research. My husband, Craig, was furious. He chose to defend her, not me.
His rage turned violent. He destroyed my life's work-a cure for Alzheimer's-then shoved me so hard I miscarried our child.
He called me "dramatic" as I bled on the floor.
Then he locked me in our home, a prisoner, forcing me to sign over my patents to his mistress, the woman who drove my sister to suicide. He thought he had broken me, that I was his to control.
But when he tried to humiliate me in the most depraved way imaginable, I saw my chance. I threw myself from a second-story window.
As I lay broken on the ground, watching him rush to his mistress's side, I made a vow. My revenge was just beginning.
8.7
I should have known something was wrong when the house felt too quiet. The charity gala had ended early—a rare stroke of luck, I'd thought. Now I could surprise Brooks with the good news about the additional donations I'd secured for his tech foundation. Seven years of marriage had taught me to anticipate his needs, to shape myself into the perfect wife for a rising tech mogul. I'd even worn the sapphire dress he'd selected, though it pinched at my waist and made my shoulders ache. The penthouse elevator opened silently. I slipped off my heels, padding barefoot across the marble foyer, my stockings catching slightly on the polished surface. A trail of clothing led from the living room toward our bedroom—Brooks' tuxedo jacket crumpled on the floor, a woman's red silk dress draped over our wedding photo. My heart hammered against my ribs as I approached our bedroom door, left slightly ajar. The sounds reached me before the sight—breathless gasps, low murmurs, the rhythmic creaking of our bed.
7.9
Alicia needed money. Three days before eviction, she walked into an underground auction believing she would walk out free. Instead, she was sold to the most powerful man in the city.
Dmitri Hunt is a mafia don feared by humans and an Alpha feared by wolves. He claims her, controls her, and hides secrets that could destroy her life.
Alicia must choose between running from her fate or standing beside the man who may have planned everything from the start...
8.5
Alexandrea woke up with a splitting headache in a strange hotel bed, terrified to find a brutally handsome, half-naked stranger beside her.
Before she could even scream, the door burst open. Her adoptive mother, Ivette, stormed in with a swarm of reporters and flashing cameras.
"How could you disgrace our family name like this?"
Ivette sobbed, putting on a theatrical performance of a heartbroken mother. It was a setup to completely ruin Alexandrea's reputation in front of New York's elite.
For ten years, Alexandrea had lived in a house of horrors. Her back and arms were covered in silvery scars and puckered cigarette burns left by Ivette's vicious abuse.
Yet to the public, Ivette had carefully crafted Alexandrea's image as a wild, ungrateful, and manipulative liar.
Trapped under the duvet, Alexandrea was drowning in shame, her voice lost in the storm of accusations.
She didn't understand why her adoptive family hated her so much, treating her worse than a stray dog while using her brother's future to keep her chained.
But what she understood even less was the stranger beside her.
Instead of panicking, the man slowly sat up, his presence alone silencing the frantic room. He was Ace Griffith, the billionaire heir who owned half of Manhattan.
He wrapped his suit jacket around her trembling shoulders, looked Ivette dead in the eye, and dropped a bomb.
"I will be marrying her."
Then, he carried Alexandrea away from her ten-year prison, ordering his men to dig up the Terry family's darkest secrets and her true identity.
8.5
Hadley married into the Jacobson family, a ruthless Wall Street empire. Her prenuptial agreement was absolute: she wouldn't touch a penny of the family wealth until she produced an heir.
But one rainy night, she used a copied keycard to enter a secret Tribeca penthouse, only to find her husband tangled in bed with a famous actress.
When she slapped the divorce papers in front of him, Cleveland didn't apologize.
"The party who files walks away with nothing. You will die in this position."
He tore the documents to pieces. To protect his flawless public image, he forced Hadley to attend family galas, smirking coldly while his grandfather publicly humiliated her for her "barren" stomach. When Hadley finally fought back and confronted his mistress, Cleveland snapped. With a single phone call, he froze her bank accounts, revoked her access to their home, and left her stranded in a cold parking garage.
She had given up her independence for a man who treated her like a useless breeding machine. He thought he could erase three years of her life in an instant, confident that his money made him invincible.
But Cleveland didn't know she was holding the ultimate weapon to destroy his precious legacy. As he received a frantic call about his mistress and rushed to his SUV, Hadley finally screamed the agonizing secret she had hidden for years.
"I can't give you an heir! It's over!"
Watching his taillights disappear into the dark, Hadley prepared to burn his empire to the ground.