Follow
Chapters
Share
Betrayed By Love, Erased From Memory Novel Cover

Betrayed By Love, Erased From Memory

I was the Architect who built the digital fortress for the most feared Don in New York. To the world, I was Brendan Wiggins’s silent, elegant Queen. But then my burner phone buzzed under the dinner table. It was a photo from his mistress: a positive pregnancy test. "Your husband is celebrating right now," the caption read. "You are just the furniture." I looked across the table at Brendan. He smiled and held my hand, lying to my face without blinking. He thought he owned me because he saved my life ten years ago. He told her I was just "functional." That I was a barren asset he kept around to look respectable, while she carried his legacy. He thought I would accept the disrespect because I had nowhere else to go. He was wrong. I didn't want to divorce him—you don't divorce a Don. And I didn't want to kill him. That was too easy. I wanted to erase him. I liquidated fifty million dollars from the offshore accounts only I could access. I destroyed the servers I had built. Then, I contacted a black-market chemist for a procedure called "Tabula Rasa." It doesn't kill the body. It wipes the mind clean. A total hard reset of the soul. On his birthday, while he was out celebrating his bastard son, I drank the vial. When he finally came home to find the empty house and the melted wedding ring, he realized the truth. He could burn the world down looking for me, but he would never find his wife. Because the woman who loved him no longer existed.
Chapters
Share

Chapter 4

Ellery POV

The velvet box sat on my vanity table like a small, black coffin.

Inside lay his birthday gift.

Or rather, my parting gift.

It was my wedding ring—a heavy platinum band encrusted with diamonds that were, in all likelihood, paid for with blood money.

I had taken a blowtorch to it in the garage earlier that afternoon, while Brendan was occupied at a sit-down. Now, it was nothing more than a twisted, mangled lump of metal. The loose diamonds rolled around the bottom of the box with a hollow rattle.

A perfect symbol of what our marriage had become.

Ruined.

My phone buzzed against the marble top of the vanity.

Another unknown number.

Kiya.

She was relentless. She wanted me to break. She was desperate for me to scream at Brendan, to cause a scene, to give him the excuse he needed to cast me aside and replace me with the mother of his child.

She didn't understand the game.

She was playing checkers.

I was playing 4D chess.

I opened the message. It was a video of her posing in a high-end lingerie store.

*Does he prefer red or black?* the caption read. *I want to look good when he comes over tonight.*

I felt a dull throb in my chest, but it was distant, muffled.

Like a bruise that had already yellowed and faded.

I turned off the screen and walked downstairs.

Brendan was in the living room, pouring a scotch. He looked tired. Running a criminal empire was exhausting work, after all.

He looked up as I entered, a smile touching his lips.

"You look beautiful, El," he said.

I was wearing a dress he had picked out for me. High neck, long sleeves, completely backless.

Modest for the world. Accessible only to him.

"Thank you," I said softly.

I walked to the wet bar and poured myself a glass of water, keeping my back to him for a split second to compose my features.

"Is everything okay with the servers?" I asked, turning around.

I already knew the answer.

I monitored the network traffic in real-time. Every board was green.

"We have a crisis," he said, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "A breach in the firewall. I have to go in tonight."

He looked me dead in the eye.

The comfort he found in his own deceit was almost impressive.

"Oh no," I said, feigning a perfect note of concern. "Will you be late?"

"Very," he replied. "Don't wait up."

He finished his drink in one swallow and set the heavy crystal glass down with a clink. He walked over, closing the distance between us, and cupped my face in his hands.

His thumb traced the line of my cheekbone.

"You are so good to me, Ellery," he murmured. "My sanctuary."

Bile rose in my throat. I fought the urge to gag.

He didn't see a person when he looked at me.

He saw a mirror that reflected a better, cleaner version of himself. He thought he could go sleep with his mistress and come home to his saint. He thought he could have it all.

"Go," I whispered, leaning into his touch one last time. "Handle business."

He kissed me—hard, possessive, marking his territory before leaving to invade someone else's.

I watched him walk out the door.

The moment the red taillights of his armored SUV disappeared down the driveway, I went straight to the security room.

I pulled up the logs.

There was no breach.

There was no crisis.

Just a man who was bored with his wife.

I sat in the glowing blue light of the monitors, the code scrolling across the screens in a rhythmic waterfall. I had built all of this for him. I had digitized his operation, secured his communications, and legalized his legacy.

And he was throwing it all away for a girl who couldn't even spell 'laundering'.

I opened my pocket and took out the velvet box.

I placed it on his mahogany desk, right on top of his ledger.

He would find it on his birthday.

The day I would be gone.

He would open it and find the wreckage of his marriage staring back at him.

And by the time he realized what it meant, June Bennett would already be on a bus to nowhere.

You may also like

El hijo de la reina de la mafia Novel Cover
8.8
As the only heir to a powerful criminal matriarch, Leo lives under the weight of a dangerous legacy. His world of violence and duty is disrupted when he crosses paths with a woman who challenges his loyalty to the family business. Amidst brutal power struggles and high-stakes betrayals, Leo must navigate a treacherous path where love and bloodshed collide. Can he protect his heart while surviving the cutthroat reality of the underworld?
La reina de la mafia Novel Cover
8.6
In the cutthroat underworld where power is seized through blood, a fierce woman rises to claim her place as the ultimate mafia queen. Navigating a dangerous landscape of shifting loyalties and lethal conspiracies, she must balance her ruthless ambition with an unexpected, high-stakes romance. As enemies close in from all sides, she fights to protect her empire and her heart, proving that in this game of crime, only the strongest survive.
Mistaken Identity: Loving The Wrong Twin Sister Novel Cover
8.1
I replaced my twin sister in a marriage contract to the ruthless Mafia Don, Donovan Blackwood. For three years, I was a ghost in his home, silently enduring his coldness while he flaunted his mistress, Chloe. On the very last day of our contract, Chloe staged an accident. Donovan didn't hesitate. He forced me to drain my blood to save her life. Then, to prove his loyalty to her, he drove me to the cliffs and pushed me into the freezing ocean. He even locked me in a cellar infested with spiders—my deepest phobia—because she lied and said I threatened her. He thought he was punishing the spoiled, arrogant Isabella. He didn't know he was breaking Ava, the woman who had silently memorized his allergies and waited up for him in the dark every single night. When I finally took my fifty million dollars and vanished, I left behind nothing but the divorce papers and a photo revealing the truth. He tore the city apart, destroying my family to find me, only to realize he had tortured the wrong woman. Now, he is standing on my porch in the pouring rain, staring in horror at the simple wooden ring on my finger given to me by another man. He falls to his knees, begging for a chance to love the wife he tried to destroy. I look at him, feeling absolutely nothing. "It's too late, Donovan," I say, locking the door. "You killed her."
Mummy, Please Marry Uncle Biker Daddy Novel Cover
7.5
He wasn't supposed to notice her. She wasn't supposed to want him. And her daughter definitely wasn't supposed to fall in love with him first. "He's not just dangerous," she whispers to herself . "He's the kind of man who ruins your life slowly... and makes you thank him for it." He rides loud. He loves hard. And once he wants something, he doesn't let go. "You don't get to look at me like that," she tells him. His smile is slow. Predatory. Certain. "I already did," he says. "And now you're mine." She's a single mother barely holding it together. He's a biker king with blood on his hands and loyalty carved into his bones. Their worlds should never touch. But they collide anyway. "You think I don't know what you're doing to me?" he growls. Her back hits the wall. His body cages her in. "You think I'd touch you if I didn't plan to keep you?" This isn't a sweet romance. It's raw. Possessive. Unforgiving. The kind of love that marks you. "Mummy," her daughter says softly, holding his hand. "Can he stay forever?" He shouldn't want them. But the idea of leaving them hurts worse than any knife. "I don't share," he tells her in the dark. "Not my bike. Not my club. And definitely not my woman." One kiss turns into hunger. One night turns into obsession. And one choice could burn everything down. "If you climb on my bike," he warns, voice low and lethal, "you don't get off unchanged."
No More Your Scorned Wife: The Medical Empress Returns Novel Cover
9.5
"Sign it. Save her, and I'll give you anything." For four years, I was Damian Wright's 'invisible wife'. While I played the pauper, he poured his soul into his dying first love. Desperate, he blindly signed a stack of papers to buy the 'Gifted Doctor's' time. He didn't read the fine print. Buried inside was our Divorce Decree. "Congratulations, Damian," I said, stripping off my surgical mask to reveal the wife he never truly knew. "You're free." The submissive Amelia is dead. The legendary 'Ghost Surgeon'? That's me. The blindfolded racing queen 'Raven'? Also me. The shadow behind the global intelligence network V-Null? Still me. I was ready to vanish, but Lucas Sullivan-the titan who makes the Wrights look like peasants-blocked my path. When Damian tried to reclaim me, Lucas didn't just stop him; he brought an empire to its knees. "They don't deserve to look at you," Lucas whispered, his touch a lethal mix of protection and obsession. "But if you crave the world, Amelia, I'll burn it down just to hear you say my name."
Rising From Wreckage: Starfall's Epic Comeback Novel Cover
7.3
Rain hammered against the asphalt as my sedan spun violently into the guardrail on the I-95. Blood trickled down my temple, stinging my eyes, while the rhythmic slap of the windshield wipers mocked my panic. Trembling, I dialed my husband, Clive. His executive assistant answered instead, his voice professional and utterly cold. "Mr. Wilson says to stop the theatrics. He said, and I quote, 'Hang up. Tell her I don't have time for her emotional blackmail tonight.'" The line went dead while I was still trapped in the wreckage. At the hospital, I watched the news footage of Clive wrapping his jacket around his "fragile" ex-girlfriend, Angelena, shielding her from the storm I was currently bleeding in. When I returned to our penthouse, I found a prenatal ultrasound in his suit pocket, dated the day he claimed to be on a business trip. Instead of an apology, Clive met me with a sneer. He told me I was nothing but an "expensive decoration" his father bought to make him look stable. He froze my bank accounts and cut off my cards, waiting for the hunger to drive me back to his feet. I stared at the man I had loved for four years, realizing he didn't just want a wife; he wanted a prop he could switch off. He thought he could starve me into submission while he played father to another woman's child. But Clive forgot one thing. Before I was his trophy wife, I was Starfall-the legendary voice actress who vanished at the height of her fame. "I'm not jealous, Clive. I'm done." I grabbed my old microphone and walked out. I'm not just leaving him; I'm taking the lead role in the biggest saga in Hollywood-the one Angelena is desperate for. This time, the "decoration" is going to burn his world down.