Framed By Love, Unleashed By Vengeance
I was a top patent lawyer until my husband and his lover framed me, destroyed my career, and sent me to prison. For seven years after, I was presumed dead, living as a ghost in a warehouse.
Then, they found me. My ex-husband, Edgar, and our son, Kody, showed up, shocked to see me alive.
They lured me to Kody' s 18th birthday party, but it was a lie. The party was a surprise engagement celebration for Edgar and Celena, the very woman who ruined my life.
In front of everyone, Edgar told me to "let go."
My own son even begged me.
"Mom, please," he cried. "Just say you're sorry."
Sorry? For what? For surviving the car crash they orchestrated to kill me?
I looked at the boy I once loved more than life itself. In the sudden silence of the ballroom, I smiled and asked, "Kody, do you remember the night Celena asked you to slash my tires?"
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Chapter 7
Abigail Cardenas POV:
Kody's lips trembled, a silent sob escaping his throat. His face, already pale, drained of all color. He looked like he was about to collapse. Edgar, beside him, shot me a confused glance, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. He didn't know. He hadn't known the full extent of Celena's ruthlessness, or Kody's complicity.
Kody shook his head frantically, his voice a choked whisper. "No! Mom, what are you talking about? It was... an accident." He glanced nervously at Celena, then back at me, his eyes pleading.
My resolve hardened. No more playing nice. No more pretending. The time for silent suffering was over. My truth was about to become their nightmare.
The guests, sensing the shift, leaned forward, their eyes gleaming with a morbid curiosity. This was better than any planned entertainment.
Celena, ever the cool manipulator, stepped in, her voice smooth as silk. "Abigail, dear, Kody's right. It was a tragic accident. Let's not upset him with old, painful memories on his special day." She tightened her grip on Edgar's arm, her fingers possessively tracing his bicep. A silent declaration: He' s mine.
I ignored her, my gaze fixed on the terrified Kody. "Accident?" I repeated, my voice a low, dangerous growl. "You truly believe it was an accident, Kody?" My voice rose, carrying across the stunned ballroom. "Or did you forget the night Celena asked you to slash my tires? The razor blade she gave you?"
Kody let out a strangled cry. Tears streamed down his face, his body convulsing with silent sobs. He tried to speak, but only incoherent gasps came out. He couldn't deny it. He couldn't confess it. He was trapped.
Then, I turned my gaze to Celena. "And you, Celena. Did you forget tampering with my brake lines? The anonymous tip you sent to the police, directing them to the 'accident' scene where my car was found, conveniently burned beyond recognition?"
Celena' s face was a mask of cold fury, but a flicker of fear danced in her eyes. Edgar stared at her, then at Kody, a dawning horror spreading across his features. He covered his mouth with a trembling hand, a sick realization settling in. He hadn't known. Not all of it.
"He was just a kid!" Celena shrieked, her composure finally breaking. "You manipulated him!"
"Manipulated?" I laughed, a harsh, brittle sound. "You gave him a razor blade and promised him a new life, a life without his 'overprotective' mother. You filled his head with lies, Celena. You turned him against me." My voice softened, a chilling, mocking tone. "And Kody, you took the bait, didn't you? You always wanted to be free from me. And you got your wish."
My eyes, now burning with a cold fire, swept over the silent crowd, then landed back on Kody. "Kody," I said, my voice cutting through the silence, "you are not my son. Not by blood, not by adoption, not by any measure of love or loyalty. You are nothing to me."
His head snapped up, his eyes wide with shock and pain. "Mom, no! I-I am! You're my mom!"
"No," I stated, my voice unwavering. "Your real mother abandoned you in a church doorway. And I, like a fool, picked you up. I loved you, Kody. I fought for you. But you chose them. You chose Celena. You chose betrayal. So no, Kody. I am not your mother."
I paused, letting the words hang in the air, a death knell for our shattered connection. "And soon," I continued, my gaze flicking to Celena's slightly rounded belly, "you'll have a new family. A real family, with Edgar and Celena' s child. A sibling who will eclipse you just as easily as you eclipsed me."
Kody' s face crumpled. He knew. He knew that once Celena' s child was born, he, the adopted son, the inconvenient reminder of Edgar' s past, would become irrelevant. He had traded my unwavering love for a brief moment of indulgence, and it would cost him everything. He had thrown away the one person who truly loved him, for a fleeting illusion of belonging.
"Goodbye, Kody," I said, my voice final, definitive. I turned on my heel and walked away, past the stunned guests, past the frozen couple on the stage.
"Abigail, wait!" Edgar cried, finally snapping out of his stupor, reaching for me.
But Celena grabbed his arm, her eyes blazing. "Edgar! Don't you dare! What about our engagement? What about our future?" Her words were sharp, possessive.
I didn't look back. I just walked. Out of the ballroom, out of the hotel, and into the cool night air. As I walked, I saw a giant billboard across the street, glowing bright with Kody's face. Kody Dixon – The Future of Tech! A promotional ad for some new venture, no doubt. The irony was a bitter taste in my mouth. No one would ever know the truth behind the shiny facade, the cold betrayal, the fragile heart that had broken completely.
I thought of all the sleepless nights, the medical bills, the endless therapies, the whispered prayers. All for him. All for Kody. And he had repaid me with a razor blade and a lie. It was worse than a knife to the heart. It was a slow, agonizing poison.
I reached my dingy apartment, the silence of the street a stark contrast to the chaos I had left behind. But as I approached my door, I stopped short. The small hallway was swarming. Flashing cameras, eager faces, microphones shoved forward like weapons. Reporters.
"Ms. Cardenas!" "Abigail, is that really you?" "The presumed dead lawyer returns!"
My blood ran cold. How did they find me? How did they know?
"Is it true you tampered with evidence?" a woman shrieked, shoving a microphone in my face. "Are you really the monster they say you are?"
"You abandoned your son!" another yelled, pointing a finger at me. "How could you just disappear?"
I recognized some of them. Faces that had once fawned over me in press conferences, praising my legal prowess. Now, they were baying for blood. They wanted a confession, a spectacle. They wanted me to admit to crimes I never committed, to apologize for being alive.
I knew, in that moment, that even if I explained everything, even if I laid bare their entire conspiracy, no one would believe me. They were already too invested in the villain they had created.
As I fumbled with my keys, trying to get into the supposed sanctuary of my room, a figure lunged out of the crowd. He grabbed me by the throat, his eyes blazing with a wild, uncontrollable rage.
"You murderer!" he screamed, his voice raw. "You killed my father!"
He slammed my head against the brick wall, a sharp crack echoing in the confined space. Stars exploded behind my eyes, and a metallic taste filled my mouth. The world spun.
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7.7
A deep bone-melting groan vibrates from his chest. "I want to see you malyshka.Every inch of you."
I shiver in anticipation as his fingers trail down my back, lowering the zipper of my dress, the fabric pooling at my waist. My tits come into view as cool air kisses my bare skin.
His sharp intake of breath makes my stomach flip.
"Damn," the word is rough, almost reverent as his large hand cups my left tit, squeezing softly. "They look even better than I had imagined." His grip tightens slightly. "A perfect fit for my hands."
☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎☦︎
Serafina had only one dream: to take center stage at the New York Opera. But if wishes were horses, even beggars would have a ride.Thrown into an arranged marriage, She is determined to hate him but soon discovers that there's a thin line between love and hate.
Adriko has no use for love. His focus is power, his goal is revenge. But what do you do when your greatest threat is your most sinful desire?
A pawn in the game...
A Bride for a truce...
9.7
When Dante Moretti discovers his arranged husband is the son of the man who massacred his family, he sees the perfect opportunity for revenge. Alessandro Santoro accepts the marriage as penance for sins he couldn't prevent, expecting nothing but the punishment he believes he deserves.
But living together reveals cracks in the story both families told. Alessandro wasn't the enemy Dante thought. Dante isn't the monster Alessandro feared. As they uncover the real conspiracy behind the massacre, they're forced to choose between the vengeance that's defined them and the fragile connection growing between them.
9.0
My boyfriend and stepsister murdered me for my inheritance, their celebratory kiss a final insult above my broken body on the rain-slicked concrete of the port.
As my soul floated inches from my own face, a tyrant the world knew only as a disfigured cripple, Charles Moses, arrived with a team of soldiers.
He ignored my killers, who were now begging for their lives. Instead, he fell to his knees in the mud and blood.
He cradled my lifeless head in his hands, and a gut-wrenching sob of pure agony tore from his throat before he carried my body into the black ocean.
As the water closed over us, I didn't understand. Why did this monster, a man I had never met, weep for me as if I was his entire world?
My eyes snapped open. I was five years in the past, coughing up water in a hospital bed. It was the night my family screamed at me for ruining my stepsister's dress after she'd tried to drown me.
When they offered to marry me off to the "crippled monster" Charles Moses to save my perfect stepsister from that fate, I didn't fight them.
I smiled and said yes.
This time, I would walk straight into the lion's den myself.
9.7
Amy has lived in the shadows of her twin all her life-unwanted by her parents, erased by lies, and forgotten by the only boy she ever loved.
Now, years later, she returns not as the broken girl they abandoned, but as a woman ready to fight. When she demands marriage from Lucas Tyson-her sister's powerful fiancé, but her first love-the world gasps.
To them, she looks greedy. To her, it is the first step in reclaiming everything stolen from her: her name, her dignity, and the one heart that belongs to her.
But Lucas remembers only betrayal, Ava will do anything to keep her lies hidden, and Amy is walking into a war she may not survive.
Who will win the love fight?
9.0
My fiancé, the Underboss of the DeLuca Crime Family, promised he would burn the world down for me.
But when my mother was dying in the hospital, he chose a ski trip with another woman.
It was that woman's dog that attacked my mother, but when I called him, shaking, he was annoyed. He was in Aspen with Isabella, and I could hear her laughing in the background. He dismissed my mother's injuries as a "minor scrape" and told me not to "make a big deal out of this."
While my mother's fever spiked, he ignored my desperate pleas. Instead, my phone lit up with an Instagram post of him and Isabella smiling by a fireplace, sipping hot chocolate.
My mother slipped into septic shock. That picture was a public declaration, a judgment on my mother's worth, and my own. A cold fury burned away every last bit of love I had for him.
She died at 3:17 a.m. I held her hand until it was cold, then walked out of the hospital and called the one number I was never supposed to use—the number for my father.
"She's dead," I said. "I'm coming to Chicago. I'm leaving this life, and I'm going to burn his world to the ground."
7.5
I didn't fall for him.
I crashed.
Liam Cage wasn't supposed to matter. He was just the arrogant stranger with a dangerous smile and eyes that undressed me in a single glance. Just a man passing through my life.
Until our parents got married.
Now he's everywhere, in the kitchen at midnight, leaning against doorframes like he owns the air I breathe. In the hallway, too close. Always too close. Every look between us feels like a secret. Every argument feels like foreplay. Every silence feels loaded.
We don't talk about it.
We don't have to.
Because the truth is there in the way my pulse stutters when he says my name. In the way he watches me like he's trying to decide whether to ruin me - or save me.
He's wrong.
For me.
For my family.
For my sanity.
But when he touches me, the world narrows down to skin and heat and the terrifying realization that some mistakes don't feel like mistakes at all.
They feel inevitable.
This story is about craving what you shouldn't, crossing lines you swore you wouldn't, and discovering that sometimes the most dangerous love is the one that feels the most real.