Cinderella's Revenge
Dumped by her fiancé just days before their wedding, only to watch him marry someone else-what would you do? Cry yourself to sleep, or dress to kill for revenge?
That was Elaina's reality. She's no Cinderella, yet she lost a shoe while recklessly crashing her ex's wedding. Her revenge plan went up in flames, but fate had other ideas, throwing her into the path of Alister-a man who is handsome, charismatic, and dangerous... and ironically, the person closest to her ex-fiancé.
Amidst heartbreak and vendettas, Alister paints her world in new colors, turning Elaina into a modern-day Cinderella. But will this story end in "happily ever after," or is Alister merely leading her into a much more dangerous game?
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Chapter 2
"You should look in the mirror and ask yourself why I chose Ivanka. What kind of man would ever actually marry a woman like you?"
The words echoed in Elaina's ears like a relentless siren. She snapped, a scream tearing from her throat, but Fidell merely signaled the guards to haul her off the stage. Despite her slender frame, it took the strength of two grown men to restrain her. A woman fueled by heartbreak and vodka was a force of nature that few men were prepared to handle.
"Don't you think for a second this is over, Fidell! You will pay for this!"
Fidell returned to his bride's side, his gaze cold as he watched the guards drag Elaina out of the ballroom. He followed every move, watching his ex-fiancée being forcibly pulled away, step by step, until she finally vanished behind the wall of high-society guests. The ballroom remained a hive of activity, but for Fidell, that moment was a sigh of relief. The weight pressing on his chest eased; she was gone. At least for tonight, the chaos was contained.
Yet, a prickle of curiosity pierced his relief. How had she even gotten in? Every guest was required to show an official invitation barcode. Who gave her access? Did someone in this room help her? His eyes scanned the crowd, searching the calm, expensive faces for a sign of betrayal, but everyone looked perfectly indifferent.
He forced himself to stay composed. Tonight wasn't the time for more scenes. He pinned a practiced smile back onto his face, though his mind was a storm of suspicion. The soft touch of his wife's hand on his waist pulled him back to reality. He glanced at her-she was trying to be his anchor. He took a long, stabilizing breath. Everything had to go according to plan, even if some questions remained unanswered.
"Yes, darling," he murmured.
Ivanka's eyes narrowed, her frustration bubbling beneath her flawless makeup. The glow that had radiated from her earlier was gone, replaced by an aura of sharp suspicion. She looked at her husband with disbelief. Elaina's outburst had shattered the perfect mood she had spent months building.
"Fidell, don't you dare play games behind my back," she hissed, her voice a dangerous thread.
Fidell caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.
"How could I? You are the only woman I love. That woman... we were close once, but that was a lifetime ago. She became obsessed. My parents are right here-why don't you ask them if you don't believe me?"
Ivanka bit back her retort. She wanted to grill her in-laws, but the line of guests waiting to congratulate them was growing long. She chose silence for now, burying her curiosity deep in her heart. But she wouldn't let it go. That woman had humiliated her in front of the elite, and Ivanka vowed that there would be consequences.
She had planned this wedding with surgical precision-the decor, the menu, the guest list. She had invited thousands to incite awe and envy. It was supposed to be a landmark event for the media and the upper class. For her, as the daughter of a coal tycoon, money was no object. Power and wealth were her birthright. Elaina's intrusion wasn't just a scene; it was a challenge. And Ivanka didn't lose challenges.
She leaned in and whispered to her mother, "Mom, have someone watch that crazy girl. Don't let her near this place again."
Her mother nodded curtly. "Don't worry. Your father is already on it. I can't believe Fidell was reckless enough to let her show up."
"Mom, Fidell didn't invite her. We have no idea how she got an invitation."
"Then the guards will handle it."
Ivanka nodded, a slow burn of vengeance lighting up her eyes. She expertly flipped her expression back to a radiant smile as she shook hands with the next guest. This was her day, and no one-especially not some girl named Elaina-was going to ruin it.
In the lobby, three uniformed guards gripped Elaina's arms, ignoring her cries of pain. Their orders were simple: throw her out, and they were doing exactly that.
"Let go of me, you bastards!"
Elaina's head was spinning, her stomach churning. She had walked in with a heart full of courage, seeking justice for herself, but she had lost. The guards dragged her into the elevator, shoved her through the lobby, and literally tossed her out.
"Stay out!" one of them barked.
Elaina hit the cold marble floor hard. She was wearing only one shoe; her right foot was bare. A sharp pain shot through her hip-she wasn't fragile, but she didn't have much padding against the unforgiving stone.
Suddenly, a strong, steady arm reached down to help her up. The sleeve was made of deep black silk-a tuxedo. The scent of masculine musk hit her, making her vodka-clouded brain swirl even faster.
"You're being far too rough with a lady."
Elaina looked up. Standing over her was a tall man with a thin shadow of a beard framing a sharp, decisive jaw. His frameless glasses gave him an air of dangerous intellect. He leaned down, his fingers brushing against her elbow, sending a jolt of static electricity through her body.
"Are you alright?"
Elaina swallowed hard, mesmerized by his presence. "I'm fine... thank you."
"Wait here."
It wasn't a suggestion; it was a command. The man stepped toward the guards, his voice calm and authoritative. "You can head back up. I'll take care of her."
"Who are you?" one guard asked, his voice still gruff.
The man smirked, pulling a business card from his wallet. The guards shared a look, nodded instantly, and retreated into the elevator without another word.
Elaina huffed, clutching her single shoe as she stumbled toward a vending machine. Wincing, she fumbled for coins and shoved them into the slot. She pressed the button for beer. Three cans rolled out. She grabbed them all, slumped onto the floor near the machine, and ignored the stares of the passersby.
She cracked the first can and drained it. The second followed quickly. As she opened the third, the man in the glasses knelt beside her.
"Planning on finishing your transformation into a drunk right here?"
Elaina shook her head. "No. I'm going home."
"To what home? Come on, I'll drive you."
"You will drive me?" she asked, her vision blurring.
He nodded. "Yes. Now stand up. Watch your shoe."
Elaina stood, swaying dangerously. "Shoe... where's my shoe?"
"You only have one."
"Right. I threw the other one at Fidell's face. That bastard! That absolute coward!"
"Watch your step."
Elaina couldn't think straight. She didn't care who was holding her or where she was going. She just wanted to be away from the hotel, away from the people who hated her.
"Fidell... one day, I'm going to kill him."
"Ah, but murder is a sin," the man replied smoothly.
Elaina nodded solemnly. "You're right. Murder is a sin. And I'd go to jail."
The man let out a soft, low chuckle as he signaled the valet. "Wait here. The car is coming."
Elaina giggled as they stood on the hotel terrace. She looked at the man beside her-tall, built, and devastatingly handsome despite the scruff on his chin. She reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck.
"You're handsome."
He looked down at her, her flushed lips inches from his.
"You're drunk," he whispered.
Elaina shook her head. "No... I'm aware."
"Aware? Do you know you're hugging a stranger in public?" He slid an arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him to steady her as a group of people walked by.
Elaina exhaled, breathing in his scent. She inhaled it greedily, as if the night air might steal it away. It made no sense, but he was the only thing that felt safe. For the first time, she admitted to herself that this man's presence-his scent, his touch-was the only thing keeping her from falling apart.
"Elaina..."
He said her name. She smiled.
"I like your voice."
His hand stroked her waist, a possessive gesture. "I like everything about you. But before security arrests us for public indecency, I think we should leave. Let's go to my place."
"Your place?"
"Yes. Mind your head."
Elaina didn't resist as he helped her into the car. Her mind was a fog of rage and heartbreak. A girl getting into a stranger's car was dangerous-reckless, even. But Elaina didn't care. The only thing she had left was her anger, and the mysterious man who seemed to be the only person on her side.
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7.9
After her twin brother's unexplained death at Alpha Academy, Alexandria Hyde takes his place and his name to uncover the truth. Now living as "Alex," she's thrown into a world of hot, testosterone-fueled Alphas who fight to the brink of death... and she has to survive it while hiding who she really is.
But staying hidden isn't easy–
Not when the Alphas start noticing her.
Not when the truth she's chasing might destroy her first.
And definitely not when they start fighting for her instead.
7.6
Johana walked half a mile through a brutal blizzard just to secure a tutoring job with the elite Black family.
But the very night she was hired, she received a terrifying call from the ER—her quiet roommate, Hazelle, had been drugged and severely traumatized at a Hamptons party.
When Johana rushed to the hospital, she didn't find the police. Instead, she found a team of ruthless billionaires erasing the crime.
Leading them was Dalton Black, the cold, arrogant older brother of her new student.
Within minutes, Dalton's fixers wiped the hospital's security footage, deleted all digital evidence, and forcefully transferred Hazelle to a locked private psychiatric facility.
"We are ensuring her privacy."
Dalton's voice was devoid of emotion, treating the horrific assault like a minor PR glitch.
His friends mocked Johana's powerlessness, while Dalton authorized a blank check to pay for the private ward, effectively burying the scandal and buying their silence.
Johana stood in the sterile hallway, trembling with a mix of despair and absolute rage.
How could they destroy an innocent girl's life and simply pay to make it disappear? Why was the truth so easily erased by money?
She had no wealth, no connections, and no proof, but she refused to be a victim of their cover-up.
Staring directly into Dalton's intimidating, icy blue eyes, Johana made a vow.
"I don't want your money. I will find out what you monsters did to her."
She thought the billionaire heir would crush her on the spot, but instead, he watched her walk away and quietly ordered his assistant: "Find out everything about Johana Neal."
9.1
My husband, Dante Moretti, the feared Underboss, signed the divorce papers I slipped him without a glance. Too busy texting his true love, Sofia, he was blind to the annulment decree ending everything. The Reaper couldn't see the death of his own marriage.
For three years, I was Elena, his silent wife, the "Caged Canary," cleaning his messes while meticulously planning my escape from our loveless world.
He dismissed me for Sofia's every whim, publicly shaming me after a past love letter was read, then abandoning me again for her fake crisis.
That night, he violently shoved me against a wall, leaving me bleeding and concussed, rushing instead to protect Sofia. Discarded and injured, my invisible love became a weapon against me.
His crushing blindness, the cold realization I was a mere placeholder, fueled a profound injustice. How could he be so lethal, yet oblivious to his wife, favoring the one who betrayed him?
With chilling resolve, I uploaded Sofia's confession, initiated a massive financial transfer dismantling his empire, and staged my own death. Under a new identity, I fled to San Francisco, ready to build my power, far from his bloody, deceitful world.
7.8
My abusive ex was threatening a lawsuit that would destroy my father's career and wipe out my PhD. I was completely out of options.
That night, Graham, the boy from next door I hadn't seen in a decade, showed up at my apartment in the middle of a hurricane. Now a wealthy orthopedic surgeon, he offered a transactional marriage: he needed a local wife to keep his family away while he cared for his sick mother, and in return, he would make my ex disappear.
I thought it was a simple deal. But the morning after we signed the marriage license, Graham didn't just scare my ex off—he ruthlessly dismantled him. Then, Graham turned to me. His eyes were dead as he pulled out his phone, showing me a high-resolution photo of the night I illegally sold lab samples to pay off my ex's initial blackmail. He had hired a private investigator to stalk me. If that photo leaked to the FDA, I wouldn't just lose my degree; I'd go to prison.
"I needed a guarantee," he said flatly.
I was shaking with rage and terror. This wasn't a rescue. It was a hostage situation. Why did he hunt me down? Why use my darkest secret to trap me in this twisted marriage?
I couldn't live like this. I demanded an immediate divorce. But at the courthouse, the clerk dropped a bomb on us: state law required a mandatory thirty-day waiting period. Thirty days trapped with a ruthless, manipulative stranger. I had to find a way to break his leverage before the month was up.
9.5
"You shouldn't be here, Fiona," his deep voice rasped against her ear, his hand still pressed against the wall behind her.
"Then tell me to leave," she whispered, her lips trembling inches from his. He didn't move. He didn't breathe. And in that moment, she knew he wanted her just as much as she wanted him.
Fiona Harry has lived her whole life in a golden cage of wealth, reputation, and suffocating rules. University was supposed to be her escape, her first taste of freedom. But nothing could prepare her for the moment she came face-to-face with Professor Jalen Hart, her father's best friend. One reckless night changes everything. A drunken mistake turns into an irresistible obsession, pulling her deeper into Jalen's forbidden world. But secrets don't stay hidden forever. Between Jude, her possessive friend who knows too much, Marian, Jalen's wicked wife, and the dangerous power of desire, Fiona is about to risk not only hers and her family's reputation but her entire future.
And what happens when the truth comes out especially to Marian?
8.9
Ava Kidd just wanted to escape her abusive stepmother when she got drunk at a high-end club and stumbled into the wrong hotel room.
She woke up the next morning in a luxury penthouse, lying naked next to a terrifyingly handsome man covered in her scratch marks.
Recalling rumors of the hotel's secret underground concierge, she immediately assumed she had accidentally slept with an elite male escort.
Desperate to settle the bill, she offered him her only debit card with a pathetic $1,800.
But the man, who was actually Garrison Terry, the ruthless billionaire CEO, was deeply insulted by the cheap plastic.
He trapped her against the bed, coldly demanding a half-million-dollar service fee.
When Ava frantically offered her dead mother's tarnished locket as collateral, he cruelly dismissed it as worthless junk.
Ava was humiliated, her heart pounding with absolute terror.
She didn't understand why this arrogant gigolo was acting like a deranged extortionist, demanding a fortune from a broke girl who had clearly made a mistake.
Furious and refusing to cower, she sneaked out, put on his oversized designer shirt, and aggressively ate his $800 truffle breakfast.
Having no money left, she grabbed her cheap red lipstick, wrote a defiant IOU on his expensive linen napkin, and fled the hotel.
She thought she had escaped a criminal, but upstairs, the billionaire traced her lipstick-stained name with a predatory smile.
"Ava Kidd, I will absolutely find you."