Genius Wife's Revenge: Too Late For Regret

For two years, I played the role of the "Midwestern mistake," the mousey wife Julian Ford-Sterling IV kept hidden like a shameful secret. I hid my true self behind thick glasses and ashen foundation, acting as the perfect, cowed charity case while he lived a life of marble and indifference. The day our marriage contract ended, the headlines were already screaming about his affair with Hollywood’s sweetheart, Lana Vane. Julian didn't even grant me a final conversation; he simply sent his legal team to hand me divorce papers that gave me nothing—no alimony, no shares, just a non-disclosure agreement and a one-way ticket out of his life. I signed the papers and walked away, but a drugged encounter in a dark club that same night led me back into his arms. We collided in the shadows, two strangers stripped of their titles, but I fled before dawn, accidentally leaving behind my vintage silver locket. By the time I reached my secret design studio the next morning, I discovered Julian had executed a hostile takeover of my entire life’s work. To my horror, Lana Vane was already there, clutching my stolen locket and shamelessly claiming she was the woman Julian had spent the night with. Julian stood before me in his charcoal suit, looking at me with total lack of recognition. To him, I was just a "gold-digging" architect he had bought along with the furniture. I watched them together, the man who had discarded me and the woman who had stolen my identity, realizing that Julian was obsessed with the genius of "Rose" while despising the woman who stood right in front of him. He had no idea that the wife he’d just divorced was the very person he was now desperate to control. I straightened my spine, my violet-blue eyes cold and lethal behind my new designer frames. "Mr. Ford-Sterling, you wanted the best designer in the city? You’ve got her. But you should know—I don't just build empires. I know exactly how to tear them down."

Chapters

Chapter 6

The elevator ride to the 40th floor of the Sterling Tower took exactly 45 seconds. Vivian counted every one of them to keep her heart rate under 70 beats per minute.

When the doors opened, she stepped into the chaos that was the Design Department.

It was a sea of panic. The original S.W. team was huddled in corners, clutching their coffee cups like life rafts. The Sterling HR team was moving through the space like sharks, dropping policy manuals on desks with loud thuds.

"Vivian!"

Winnie, the intern, came running over. She was a tiny girl with glasses too big for her face-a painful reminder of Vivian's own disguise.

"Are you okay?" Winnie whispered. "They fired three people already. They say the new standards are impossible."

Vivian squeezed Winnie's shoulder. "Breathe, Win. It's just corporate posturing. They need us."

"Attention!" A sharp voice cut through the room.

A woman in a severe grey suit stood on a platform. "I am Mrs. Gable, Head of HR. From this moment on, all creative IP belongs to Sterling Group. No freelance work. No side projects. And..." She scanned the room, her eyes landing on Vivian. "Miss Sullivans. Mr. Ford-Sterling expects you in the penthouse immediately."

The room went silent. Xavier, the former Creative Director of Sterling who had been demoted to merge with S.W., smirked from his desk.

"Looks like someone's in trouble," he sneered.

Vivian ignored him. She smoothed her skirt, lifted her chin, and walked back to the elevator.

The ride to the penthouse was silent. When the doors opened, Gavin was waiting. He did a double-take when he saw her.

"You..." he stammered. "The crash."

"Is he in?" Vivian asked, breezing past him.

"Yes, but..."

Vivian pushed open the double mahogany doors.

Julian was sitting behind a desk that looked like it had been carved from the hull of a pirate ship. He was reading a file. He didn't look up.

"Sit."

Vivian sat. The chair was low, forcing her to look up at him. A classic power move.

Julian closed the file and looked at her. Recognition flickered in his eyes-not of his wife, but of the woman from the street.

"So," he said, leaning back. "Vivian Sullivans. The woman who destroys my cars and my acquisitions."

"I didn't destroy the acquisition," Vivian said evenly. "You bought it. Hostilely."

"And you came with the furniture." Julian picked up a pen. "I've reviewed your portfolio. The work under the alias 'Rose'. It's... adequate."

Vivian felt a vein in her temple throb. "Adequate?" Her designs had won awards in Milan under that name. "It is exceptional."

"It shows potential," Julian corrected, though his eyes betrayed him. He had spent the last hour marveling at the blueprints, wondering how a ghost could design with such life. But he wouldn't give her the satisfaction. Negotiation 101: never let the asset know their value. "Confidence," Julian mused. "I like that. But here at Sterling, we require obedience." He slid a document across the desk. "This is a supplementary contract. It binds you to the 'Rose' identity exclusively for Sterling. And it increases the penalty clause."

Vivian read it. It was a golden cage.

"Why?" she asked. "Why do you want Rose so badly?"

Julian stood up and walked to the window. "Because my ex-wife," he said, the word dripping with disdain, "had zero taste. She filled my life with beige. Rose... Rose understands passion. Color. Life. I want that energy in this company to wash away the stench of mediocrity."

Vivian gripped the armrests of the chair. He was talking about her. He was insulting her to her face, praising her alter ego to replace the memory of her real self.

The irony was so thick she could choke on it.

"Your ex-wife," Vivian said, testing the waters. "She must have been terrible."

Julian laughed, a harsh sound. "She was a ghost. A contractual obligation. She had no spine, no fire. Unlike you." He turned to face her. "You have fire, Miss Sullivans. I saw it in the street."

Vivian stared at him. "Maybe she just didn't show it to you because you never looked."

Julian's eyes narrowed. The air in the room grew heavy. He walked around the desk until he was leaning against the front of it, inches from her knees.

"Are you married, Miss Sullivans?"

"Divorced," she said quickly. "Recently."

"Good," Julian said. "Then you know that marriage is a trap. Work... work is honest." He tapped the contract. "Sign it. Or pay the fifty million."

Vivian picked up the pen. Her hand shook, just once. She signed.

Vivian Sullivans.

"Welcome to the team," Julian said. He reached out a hand.

Vivian took it. His skin was warm, calloused. A shock of electricity shot up her arm, just like in the hotel room.

Julian pulled his hand back sharply, as if he had been burned. He looked at her hand, then her face, confusion clouding his eyes.

"That's all," he dismissed her, turning his back.

Vivian stood up and walked to the door. Before she left, she turned.

"Mr. Sterling?"

"What?"

"Beige is a very calming color. Maybe you just needed peace."

She slammed the door before he could respond.

Julian stared at the closed door. He rubbed his hand where he had touched her.

"Who the hell is she?" he whispered.

Continue to next part

My mother was killed in a hit-and-run. My husband, Haywood, told me to drop the investigation. Then my father died because Haywood froze my assets, refusing to pay for his life-saving surgery. "My mother was murdered!" I screamed at him. "You want me to just... forget that?" He told me he knew who the driver was and threatened to ruin me if I didn't stop. He used his power to destroy my career, publicly shame me, and even had me thrown into a cellar full of venomous spiders, leaving me for dead. The final blow came when he forced me to lie on a live stream at my mother's grave, confessing to crimes I didn't commit. As I collapsed, he had his men scatter her ashes into the mud. I lost everything. My family, my dignity, my truth. They thought they had broken me. They were wrong. As I boarded a flight out of New York, I hit 'Go Live' on a global stream. "My name is Celina Alvarado," I began, my voice steady. "And I'm here to tell you everything."

Action Modern Mystery

7.8

From Burden To Unstoppable Queen

7.8

My fiancé, Caleb Holder, saw me as a burden, a stain on his perfect image. In my past life, his constant cruelty and public humiliation drove me to suicide. After I died, the truth came out. His mistress, Erica, had faked her pregnancy and the miscarriage she blamed on me. While the world celebrated their "true love," I was just a tragic, forgotten fool. But then I opened my eyes. I was back on the night of the gala, moments before Erica would throw herself down the stairs. In a few minutes, Caleb would believe her lies without question, slap me until I bled, and call me a monster in front of his family. "You evil, jealous monster! You tried to kill my child!" Last time, his words destroyed me. This time, they would be my battle cry.

Action Modern Romance

7.9

On My Knees, Daddy: A Steamy Compilation of Erotic Stories

7.9

What if your next filthy favorite story started with a moan... and ended with "Yes, Daddy"? Then take a deep breath... •ON MY KNEES, DADDY• is ready to leave you soaked, breathless, and aching for more. This is a raw, erotic collection of dominant men who don't ask-they take. And their submissives? Oh, they beg. They kneel. They come apart, over and over. Inside, you'll find stories that cross every line: hotel-room threesomes, forbidden stepdaddy fantasies, one-night stands, rough office sex, taboo roleplay, and the kind of dirty stories that will have your thighs clenched and your fingers wandering. Warning: These pages drip with sin. Read in private, or get caught dripping. 18+ only.

Action Mafia Modern

8.7

Rejected By My Mate, Claimed By Contract

8.7

Fiona thinks she has it all-love, loyalty and a secured life-until her mate, Alpha Kael, leaves her for his first love, Laila. Abandoning her at the altar on the day of their bond reaffirmation before the moon goddess, Fiona watches helplessly as Kael dotes on Laila from the shadows without knowing how else to claim back her mate. Fiona soon discovers she's pregnant and hopes the news will finally bring Kael back to her. But her world shatters when Laila, also carrying Kael's child, pushes Fiona down a hill during a heated fight, causing her to have a miscarriage that left her broken and desperate. Just when all hope seems lost, Fiona crosses paths with Alpha Derek, the blind yet most powerful Alpha in Eastern Highlands. He offers her revenge against her unfaithful mate and his mistress in exchange for becoming his Luna for a year. She agrees. But Derek is no savior. He hides behind dark shades and darker secrets. Worse still, he's the very architect of her pains. Yet the closer she gets to him, the more her heart betrays her... because the most dangerous thing about Derek isn't his power or his schemes but the way he makes her want him, even when she swore she'd never risk her heart again.

Action Romance Werewolf

8.8

Sexy Behind The Mask

8.8

She hides behind ugly suits and fake names. He's done trusting women. When they meet in a masked sex club, neither realizes they've been fighting each other across boardroom tables for eighteen months. At Taylor Industries, she's Joy Smith-the frumpy CFO who drowns her curves in shapeless polyester and wearing a wig. At home, she's the forgotten wife of a cheating lawyer who hasn't touched her in so long she's starting to wonder if she's broken. When she finds hot pink lace panties stuffed in her couch cushions...definitely not hers, it's not heartbreak she feels. It's freedom. Grayson Taylor doesn't do relationships anymore. Not after walking in on his actress fiancée with another woman. Now he channels everything into hostile takeovers and board meetings, especially the ones where his overcautious CFO fights him on every goddamn acquisition. Joy Smith is brilliant, infuriating, and funny when he pushes all her buttons. But Honey is tired of being invisible. Tired of never having felt real pleasure. So, when her best friend gives her the details of The Velvet Room-Manhattan's most exclusive masked club-she promises herself just one night. One night to find out if her husband's right, if she really is frigid, or if she's just never been touched by the right hands. She doesn't expect the masked stranger who claims her the second she walks in. Doesn't expect the chemistry that ignites between them, the way he makes her body sing, or the orgasms that leave her shaking. Doesn't expect him to hand her an email address with one command: "Only me. No one else touches you."

Action Modern Romance

9.8

Stealing The Groom For Sweet Revenge

9.8

I was an unwanted foster kid taken in by the Goodwin family, about to marry into the wealthy Cantu family to secure my adoptive father's power. But at my rehearsal dinner, my adoptive mother drugged my champagne, intending to have me assaulted and ruined. The next morning, my fiancé and my sister burst into my hotel room with a swarm of reporters, pointing fingers in manufactured horror. "You filthy whore! The engagement is over!" My fiancé roared for the cameras, while my sister sobbed about my betrayal. They had brought the press to publicly slaughter me, justifying their own secret affair while my adoptive family cursed me as a disgusting stray. For years, I had endured their toxic abuse, only to be thrown to the wolves so my sister could steal my life. They truly believed I was just a helpless pawn they could crush and discard. But they didn't know I had anticipated their trap and deliberately walked into the bed of Dorian Underwood—the ruthless billionaire and the only man the Cantu family actually feared. As I calmly hit 'send' to broadcast my fiancé's explicit sex tape to every reporter in the hallway, I met Dorian's dark, predatory gaze. I wasn't just surviving anymore; I was going to tear both their empires to the ground.

Action Modern Romance

Genius Wife's Revenge: Too Late For Regret

Chapter 6

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