
Her Last Name, His Claim
She left him five years ago, long before he became the ruthless billionaire the world now fears.
Now she's ready to marry again but first, she needs his signature.
Except Enzo Wayne doesn't plan to let go. He's waited five years to remind her what belonging means.
One signature, one demand, one impossible month..and one question neither of them wants to answer: What if she never stopped loving him?
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Chapter 1
Five years is a long time to be forgotten by the man who once swore you were his everything, I think everyone would agree with me on that.
I was standing in front of the mirror, smoothing down the ruffles of my engagement dress, a shade a little too close to my skin tone, when my phone rang.
Blocked number...
My first thought was to ignore it. The second was to answer because my heart already knew who it was. I hesitated, then picked up.
"Hello?"
A voice I hadn't heard in so long came through the line, deep,smooth and annoyingly familiar
"Still changing your number every year, sweetheart? You were always so good at running and ignoring me."
I froze. Five years. Five long years, and yet his voice still had the power to knock the breath out of me.
"Enzo"
"Still remember my name. That's nice," he said, amused. "So should I send flowers to the engagement party, or would that be inappropriate...since you're still my wife?"
I smiled, "Ex wife"
"Not yet", came his response.
I pulled at the neck of my dress, suddenly short of air. "What do you want?"
He laughed, that low, dangerous kind of laugh that always filled me with dread.
"You know exactly what I want, love."
"We haven't had a relationship in years. You left. We've been separated..."
"I didn't leave. You gave up on us. And separated isn't divorced," he interrupted smoothly.
"Look," I said trying to steady my breathing, " I sent you the divorce papers several times".
"Oh, I got them. I just don't remember agreeing."
That voice...still calm, just as calm as I remember, yet sharp enough to get his point across.
"I don't need your agreement, Enzo. Just your signature".
"Mmm. About that. I've been thinking, Elena." He whispered my name like a secret.
"If you want my signature, you'll have to come see me. Let's discuss it properly."
"I'm not playing your games."
"Who said it was a game?" His voice dipped lower. " You'll come home, Elena. To our home. And we'll talk like adults...about us. About your little wedding plans".
My heart pounded so hard I could feel it in my throat. "Enzo, you can't just barge into my life like this."
"Oh, I can. And I just did. You're still my wife, bearing my name. That gives me certain...rights. Come see me when you're ready to talk."
The line went dead.
I stood there frozen, phone shaking in my hand, heart pounding wildly.
My reflection stared back at me, a woman trying to smile through the wreckage.
Somewhere between the anger and shock, I felt it again... the pull I had spent five years trying to forget.
And just like that, I knew.
Enzo Wayne wasn't just back.
He was coming for me.
I fixed my makeup, forced a smile at the mirror and headed out to the party, my engagement party.
When I opened the door, the first thing I saw was disappointment. Nathan stood there,pain and confusion written all over his face.
"We've been together for eight months," he said, quiet, cold and emotionless "and you didn't think to tell me you're still married?" When were you planning to tell me, Elena? After getting married? After the honeymoon? Or maybe after having kids and your husband shows up to claim you back?"
I looked Nathan in the eye, hoping he could somehow see how much this was killing me. "I'm really sorry, Nathan. I didn't plan for any of this. And... I did tell you I was married"
"Was..Elena. Not still married. You told me you were married and that it ended a long time ago and I just heard you having a "sign the divorce papers" conversation. My God! You're still married to him!" His voice rose like the realization had just hit again.
Yes, I am. And I'm sorry i didn't tell you, it was such a long time ago since we went our separate ways. I just need to get the divorce papers signed, that's all. I'm sorry, Nathan. I pleaded.
Before he could respond, Judy walked in all flustered and bossy, already in full organizer mode. "You two need to get to the party! Everyone's waiting."
Trust Judy to treat event planning like a divine calling.
The chatter hit me first, then the soft music, then a dozen smiling faces. I smiled back as I always do..like my world hadn't just been set on fire by Enzo.
For the rest of the night, I tried to be present, smiling, dancing, pretending. Reminding myself this was my engagement party. That I was moving forward. That Enzo Wayne was in the past.
But no matter how many smiles I forced, his voice kept echoing in my head;
You'll come home, Elena and we'll talk about us.
By the end of the night, I'd made my decision. I was going to see him. I didn't care how, but he was going to sign those papers.
Nathan didn't say a word on our drive home, but as soon as he parked, he stared straight ahead for a while before turning to me.
"Tell me everything," he said quietly. And I did.
All of it.
The love, the neglect, the heartbreak.
When I was done, he sighed. "He's an asshole. You said it yourself..controlling, manipulative. He's trying to mess with you, Elena. You really think meeting him is a good idea? Let the lawyers handle it. And if you must meet with him, I'm coming with you."
"No," I said softly. "He wants control. He wants a reaction. If I show up with you, It'll only give him more power and God knows what else he'll do. I'll deal with him."
Nathan's voice softened. " I still think you shouldn't face him alone."
"I'll be fine. Really. It's time I finish what I started.
He nodded slowly, but I could see the worry in his eyes.
I looked away, clutching my purse a little tighter, my mind already going back. To Enzo's voice, his threats and the sinking feeling that the world I built over five years was about to come crumbling down around me.
Deep down, I knew what Enzo really wanted had nothing to do with divorce papers or closure.
It had everything to do with me.
Almost as if the universe was trying to prove me right, as soon as we got inside and Nathan went to grab a drink, my phone buzzed with a message from none other than Enzo.
"I hope you enjoyed your little party. Remember, sweetheart. I always collect what's mine."
The next morning, I stared at his message again, fingers hovering over the phone.
I wasn't sure if I was angrier that he ruined my night or at the fact that he still had this effect on me after everything.
Finally, I hit the call button.
He answered on the first ring. "Well,that was quick. Miss me already?"
"Don't flatter yourself,"I snapped. "I'm calling because I'm ready to talk. But we're definitely not doing it at your house."
"Why not? Everything I have is yours. It's your house too," he said smoothly.
"It's not. We're meeting somewhere public."
There was a pause, then that laugh, the low one that always meant trouble.
"Public? You think I'm going to throw you on the nearest bed if you come to my house? Or maybe you're not as immune to me as you pretend.
"For a billionaire, you're such an idiot. Believe what you want, but we're meeting in public."
"You think I need a crowd to behave?"
"Just agree, Enzo."
He sighed. "Fine, We'll meet in public. I'll pick the place. But don't expect me to be nice, sweetheart. I mean, you're trying to marry someone else when you're still married to me."
Before I could respond, he hung up.
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8.0
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9.5
For two years, I lived as a ghost in the Horn manor, a world built on blood money where my every breath was monitored. Fulton Horn, my stepfather’s nephew and the executor of my life, held the golden leash around my neck, forcing me to play the role of his secret mistress while he paraded a socialite as his fiancée.
Everything shattered at a high-society gala when the scent of raw seafood made me vomit at the feet of Fulton’s future bride. The ballroom erupted in whispers of a secret pregnancy, but Fulton’s reaction wasn't concern—it was cold, predatory calculation.
He immediately forced me into a clinical "inspection" to ensure his "merchandise" was sound, then destroyed my only chance at escape by framing my friend in a scandal and blacklisting my credit. He dragged me to his penthouse, ripped my clothes, and told me I was nothing but a "placeholder" for his dead first love, Arlena.
I was drowning in his obsession, forced to model his fiancée’s engagement gown while he claimed he was the only one who could "protect" me.
"You are what I say you are," he whispered, "and you belong where I say you belong."
I didn't understand how he could be so cruel, or why he was so determined to keep me in a cage of secrets. But when I looked closer at the photo of the "original" girl he loved, my blood turned to ice. It wasn't a girl named Arlena. It was a picture of me from six years ago, smiling and unbroken.
I realized then that Fulton hadn't just found a replacement—he had spent years carefully destroying the girl I used to be so he could keep the broken pieces for himself. Reaching for the hidden keycard, I finally made a choice: I would find a way to kill the ghost he loved before he finished killing the woman I had become.

8.2
I spent three years playing the role of a submissive, small-town wife for Evertt Baker, trading my true identity for a quiet life in a Manhattan penthouse. I thought my devotion would be enough to build a real home, but I was just a placeholder in his grand design.
The illusion shattered at 2 AM when Evertt walked in smelling of Chanel No. 5-the signature scent of his mistress, Adda. Without a word of apology, he dropped divorce papers on the table, demanding I sign them immediately so he could finally be with the woman he truly loved.
He looked at me with pure disgust, flicking a five-million-dollar check toward me as if he were paying off an incompetent employee. He told me it was more money than anyone from my "trailer park" background would ever see and ordered me to hurry because Adda was waiting in the car downstairs. He didn't care that I had spent years nursing him through illness and tolerating his family's insults; he only cared about his own convenience.
The sheer arrogance of his payout and the blatant disrespect of bringing his mistress to our home was the final blow. I realized that the man I loved never actually saw me, only the submissive shadow I had forced myself to become.
I signed the papers with a fluid scrawl he didn't bother to check, then I fed his millions into the office shredder. I pulled a hidden, encrypted device from a kitchen drawer and dialed a number I hadn't called in three years.
"Brother," I said, my voice finally steady. "Come get me. The game is over."
Evertt thought he was discarding a penniless nobody, but he was about to find out that he had just declared war on the Stafford empire.

9.0
To save her dying mother, Adaline walked into the Waldorf Astoria to deliver a shirt to her fiancé.
She didn't know her stepsister, June, had swapped her keycard. Adaline stumbled into a pitch-black suite and was brutally assaulted by a stranger in the dark.
The nightmare didn't end there. June paid off the only bone marrow donor for Adaline's mother to flee the city, and stole Adaline's fiancé. Bankrupt and desperate, Adaline was forced to sell herself into a loveless marriage with the ruthless billionaire Ferris Finch just to secure a medical team.
But when Ferris saw the dark, violent bruises covering her body, his eyes filled with absolute disgust.
"You make me sick. Pack up your cheap tricks."
He mocked her, calling her a filthy woman who couldn't even wash her lover's marks off before crawling into his house.
Adaline swallowed her pride and endured his cruel humiliation. When June publicly taunted her about the hotel assault, Adaline finally snapped, ending up handcuffed in a freezing police cell.
She thought she was completely out of moves, waiting to rot in prison while her new husband despised her.
But back at the estate, Ferris had just pulled the hotel's security footage.
Staring at the screen, the arrogant billionaire's face turned completely ashen.
He finally realized that the innocent woman he had destroyed in the dark that night, and the wife he was currently torturing, were the exact same person.

8.6
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Ava Sinclair is a brilliant heiress hiding a dangerous past that could destroy everything she holds dear. Adrian Blackwood is a powerful billionaire with a secret darker than anyone could imagine.
Their worlds collide in a storm of passion and intrigue. Sparks fly, loyalties are tested, and every choice brings them closer to danger-and each other.
As nights grow longer and the moon rises higher, Ava begins to uncover the truth behind Adrian's mysterious life. She must decide whether love is worth the risk when desire and danger blur.
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7.5
Elena Vale's life is carefully controlled, molded by strict family expectations and an arranged marriage she never wanted. But the night before her wedding, a shocking betrayal turns her world upside down. One scandalous mistake leaves her publicly humiliated, her engagement broken, and her future uncertain.
Just when all hope seems lost, Adrian Blackwood, a powerful and enigmatic billionaire, offers her a lifeline: a contract marriage. Thrust into a world of wealth, power, and danger, Elena must navigate his dominance, protect her independence, and confront those who seek to destroy her.
As tension and attraction build between them, Elena discovers her own strength and resilience, while Adrian reveals sides of himself he has long kept hidden. Together, they face betrayal, ambition, and jealousy, learning that love can emerge from the most unexpected circumstances.
In the end, Elena claims her dignity, her future, and a love forged on her own terms.