Dying In Silence: The Unwanted Heiress
Kaia was diagnosed with late-stage bone cancer, with only three months left to live.
She wanted to give up her family's entire trust fund just to have Gerrit play the role of a loving husband for her final days.
But before she could show him the biopsy report, he looked at her with absolute disgust, declaring that their three-year marriage made him physically sick.
He only loved Seraphina.
To force Kaia out, Seraphina constantly framed her. When Seraphina faked a fall, Gerrit pushed Kaia so hard she tore her waist open on a glass table.
When Kaia writhed in agonizing pain from her failing organs, he stood over her coldly, mocking her pathetic acting.
Even when Gerrit finally discovered Seraphina had hired a fake stalker and maliciously burned Kaia's skin with boiling tea, he still chose to protect his mistress.
"I already signed the divorce papers with Kaia. We are going to bury this story temporarily to protect the company."
Hearing those words from behind the wall, the last shred of hope in Kaia's chest completely died.
She had endured his cruelty for three years, only to realize his bias for another woman defied all logic and morality.
Lying in the bathtub, coughing up mouthfuls of dark blood that turned the water crimson, Kaia picked up her phone and dialed her lawyer.
"Julian, initiate the final plan."
Since Gerrit despised her existence, she would make sure he never found her body.
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Chapter 5
Gerrit wrapped his arms around Seraphina, lifting her gently from the carpet. "Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice thick with panic.
Seraphina buried her face in his chest. She shook her head, putting on a brave face. "It's not Kaia's fault. I just lost my balance."
That sentence was gasoline on a fire. Gerrit snapped his head around. His eyes were dead and cold as he glared at Kaia, who was still crumpled on the floor.
"If she has a single scratch on her, I will make you pay for it," Gerrit snarled.
He kept his arm tightly around Seraphina's waist. He turned his back on Kaia and walked straight out the front door.
The heavy door clicked shut. The apartment fell into a suffocating, dead silence.
Kaia pressed her hand against her bleeding waist. Her entire body shook violently. Cold sweat dripped down her forehead, stinging her eyes.
She clamped her teeth together, tasting copper. She planted her hands flat on the blood-stained carpet and forced her arms to push her body up.
She dragged her feet across the floor, limping heavily toward the coffee table. She reached out with a trembling hand and straightened the manila envelope that had been knocked askew.
Every step toward the bathroom felt like walking on broken glass. The tearing sensation in her waist mixed with the deep, gnawing ache of the cancer in her abdomen.
She flipped on the harsh bathroom lights. She peeled off the ruined white blouse. A massive, dark purple bruise surrounded a deep, jagged gash on her side.
She opened the first aid kit. She soaked a cotton pad in rubbing alcohol and slammed it directly onto the open wound. She threw her head back and sucked in a sharp breath as the burning pain ripped through her nerves.
She wrapped thick white bandages tightly around her torso. She pulled a massive, oversized black silk robe over her shoulders, completely hiding the blood and the gauze.
Kaia walked out of the bathroom. She looked at the clock on the wall. She walked into the open kitchen.
She opened the stainless steel refrigerator. She pulled out fresh vegetables and a cut of prime steak. Her hands hovered over the marble counter, staring at the ingredients she had purchased to prepare Gerrit's favorite meal. This was the dinner she had planned to make last night to seal their three-month deal. Now, looking at the raw meat, a violent wave of nausea twisted her stomach. The memory of his cruel shove and Seraphina's mocking smile echoed in her mind. Her hands trembled as she grabbed the expensive steak and the organic vegetables, hurling them violently into the stainless steel trash can. There would be no dinner. It was a funeral for their marriage. The sterile, cold smell of the empty apartment surrounded her, doing nothing to mask the faint, metallic scent of blood lingering in the air.
She dragged herself to the dining table. She didn't strike a match; she simply sat in the freezing darkness. Kaia sat in the chair next to the head of the table. She stared at the empty, unlit silver candelabra. She waited as the sky outside turned pitch black.
The clock ticked endlessly. The silence in the room grew heavy and stiff. The cold air formed a chilling film over her bare skin. The night dragged on in total, unbroken misery.
Just before midnight, the front door unlocked. Gerrit walked in alone.
He took off his suit jacket. The heavy, sweet scent of Seraphina's perfume instantly flooded the room.
Kaia's stomach violently rejected the smell. Acid rose in her throat, but she swallowed it down.
Gerrit walked past the dining area. He stopped when he saw the empty table and Kaia sitting in the shadows.
He looked at her face. Her skin was a terrifying shade of gray, and her lips were completely white.
His eyebrows pulled together. "Are you sick?" he asked, the words slipping out automatically.
Kaia slowly lifted her eyes. She looked at him. "My stomach hurts."
The slight concern in Gerrit's eyes vanished instantly. He let out a harsh, mocking laugh. "Playing the victim now? Trying to use a stomachache to get out of what you did this afternoon?"
He didn't look at the food again. He walked straight past the table and down the hallway.
Kaia sat perfectly still. She listened to the sound of the shower turning on in the guest bathroom. She reached out and closed her eyes, plunging herself into total darkness.
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7.2
In the roaring flames of the abandoned warehouse, my skin blistered and peeled.
Through the crackling fire, my sister Elara's malicious voice echoed. She told me my husband, Damien, was dead, and it was all my fault.
For years, I had treated Damien like a monster. I fought him, threw tantrums, and desperately tried to escape our marriage, all because I blindly followed Elara's advice.
"Remember, the harder you fight, the more disgusted he'll get."
She texted me things like that, telling me to smash vases over his head and run away, claiming she was protecting me.
In reality, she was poisoning my mind, stealing my valedictorian spot at university, and plotting to crawl into my billionaire husband's bed.
My foolish rebellion cost me everything, ultimately leading to Damien's tragic death and my own fiery end.
As the massive explosion tore my consciousness to shreds, I finally understood who truly loved me and who the real monster was.
I died suffocating on my own agonizing regret, wishing I could tear Elara apart.
Then, a rush of freezing air punched into my lungs.
I opened my eyes to the crisp scent of cedar and mint. I was back seven years ago, on the very night our marriage was supposed to go to hell.
This time, looking at Damien's flawless, unscarred face, I didn't push him away.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and made a silent vow: I would make every single person who ever hurt him bleed.
9.6
Brenda Vincent thought her biggest nightmare was catching her boyfriend cheating with her roommate on her own sofa.
But her life truly derailed after a drunken night led her into the bed of Bryon Reeves, the ruthless billionaire CEO and older brother of the student she tutored.
Trying to pay off the most dangerous man in New York with a crumpled twenty-dollar bill was her first mistake.
Fleeing the hotel, she accidentally rear-ended his custom Maybach. Bryon used the massive repair bill to blackmail her into being his fake date, parading her at a gala just to make his sister-in-law jealous.
When Brenda finally snapped and fled the humiliation, only to be rescued by his biggest corporate rival, Bryon's twisted possessiveness turned completely destructive.
"If you feel kidnapped, call the police. But your teaching license will be permanently revoked."
He didn't just threaten her. He systematically dismantled her life, using his influence to force the university to freeze her tenure and suspend her without pay.
Brenda couldn't understand why this terrifying man was going to such extreme lengths to ruin a simple tutor who just wanted to be left alone.
Now, stripped of her career, her income, and her independence, she was forced into the sprawling Reeves Manor.
Hearing the heavy mahogany door lock from the outside in her signal-jammed bedroom, Brenda's panic slowly morphed into a cold, clinical rage.
She was trapped, but she refused to be his helpless pawn.
9.2
Averie spent hours preparing a perfect third-anniversary dinner for her billionaire husband, Jarett Sharp.
Instead of celebrating, she received an anonymous photo of him intimately holding another woman.
When Jarett finally arrived, he didn't even look guilty.
"Candida. It's okay. Don't be scared. I'm on my way."
He simply took a call from his mistress, shoved Averie aside, and walked right back out the door.
That same night, Averie's father suffered a massive heart attack.
The hospital demanded a half-million-dollar deposit before they would operate.
But when Averie frantically tried to use the emergency medical trust card Jarett had given her, it was declined.
Jarett had deliberately frozen her access to the funds just hours earlier.
While she begged his assistant on the phone, Jarett refused to be disturbed, busy wrapping his expensive coat around his mistress in the hospital garden.
Averie collapsed in the hallway, realizing the man she loved was deliberately letting her father die.
In the end, a childhood friend stepped in to pay the bill and save her father's life, while her billionaire husband later pinned her to their bed, throwing a check at her and reminding her he had bought her for three million dollars.
Averie didn't shed a single tear.
She slowly ripped his check into pieces, left her massive diamond ring on the dresser, and walked out into the cold New York night with nothing but her old suitcase.
She pulled out her phone and dialed her old ballet professor.
She wasn't just going to leave Jarett Sharp. She was going to destroy him.
8.5
After four years of marriage, my wealthy husband Brad handed me a $50,000 severance check outside the Manhattan Family Court.
He linked arms with his mistress, Jenna, who flaunted the diamond ring that used to be mine.
"Just take it, Hayley. Take the money and get out of our lives," he sneered, looking at me with absolute disgust.
I tore the check into pieces, but my nightmare was just beginning.
To access my grandfather's trust fund, I had exactly seventy-two hours to get legally married, so I desperately proposed a one-year contract marriage to a poor insurance salesman I met in a dive bar.
When Brad found out, he and his arrogant family cornered me at their estate.
Brad mocked my new husband for being a penniless, money-grubbing parasite, while my former mother-in-law slapped me hard across the face, knocking me to the ground.
"You are trash, just like your mother," she spat, watching my knee bleed onto the sharp gravel.
Jenna gleefully kicked my phone away, shattering the screen and cutting off my only lifeline.
Lying there in the dirt, I stared at the broken glass in absolute despair.
I didn't understand why four years of quiet devotion had earned me nothing but cruel betrayal and endless humiliation from the people I once called family.
Just as I thought I had completely lost, a black Lincoln Navigator slammed to a halt at the gates.
My "penniless" new husband stepped out, radiating a terrifying, righteous fury that made the entire Patton family freeze in horror.
9.3
Elara Voss never imagined that a single mistake could turn her life upside down. A brilliant marketing strategist with ambition as sharp as her wit, she thrives on control, until the day she crashes her rival's luxurious wedding, causing a scandal that will haunt her in high society.
Enter Dante Cross: the notorious billionaire, charmingly arrogant, and impossibly handsome, the bride's brother. In a moment of impulsive defiance, he proposes an outrageous solution to save face: a marriage neither of them wants... but both are forced to accept.
Thrown together in a world of glitz, power, and unspoken secrets, Elara and Dante clash at every turn. Sparks ignite as pride battles attraction, and the closer they get, the more dangerous their connection becomes. With hidden rivalries, family secrets, and unexpected betrayals swirling around them, Elara must navigate a game of social intrigue and decide if love is worth risking everything.
Will their forced union survive the chaos, or will the very secrets that brought them together tear them apart forever?
9.7
Charity woke up in a hellish, acid-rain-soaked slum, trapped inside a bloated body covered in festering, toxic sores. She was the exiled Grand Princess of the Empire.
But the real nightmare wasn't her ruined body. It was the fact that the original owner had used her royal authority to force genetic marriage contracts onto four top-tier, powerful men.
Now, she was bound to them, and they absolutely loathed her.
Hjalmar, chained to a bed in her filthy room, smiled like a feral beast and promised to rip her head off the second his chains snapped.
Braden, a ruthless military officer, saved her from a mutated rat only to look at her with pure disgust.
"If you want to die, go die somewhere else. Don't dirty my patrol sector."
Even the locals mocked her fallen status, and a wealthy heiress publicly framed her for stealing a hundred-thousand-coin energy core just to see her rot in a dark cell.
She was universally despised, physically repulsive, and a lethal biological toxin gave her exactly 59 days left to live. How was she supposed to survive this absolute hell when her starting affection with her partners was at negative 100?
Then, a mechanical voice echoed in her skull, activating a survival system. To purge the poison, she had to harvest emotional energy by making these four men fall for her. Charity accepted the mandate, unlocked a top-tier culinary skill, and grabbed a rusted meat cleaver to start her counterattack.