His Cruel Joke, My Broken Heart
I did everything for Damian, my childhood best friend. His promise-"Get in shape, Lena, and I'll take you to prom"-was the only thing that mattered. I starved myself and ran until I collapsed, all for the future he dangled in front of me.
But on his birthday, clutching the cake I' d baked, I overheard the truth. The promise was a cruel joke. To him and his real girlfriend, Gigi, I was just a "fat pig" whose desperate attempts to impress him were "hilarious to watch."
They didn't stop there. They framed me for bullying, and Damian publicly denied ever caring for me. He then got my Stanford scholarship revoked with a malicious report and stood by as Gigi plastered my most private love letters all over school.
I became a pariah, a "delusional, conniving bitch." The boy I had loved my whole life, the one who was supposed to be my protector, had orchestrated my complete and utter destruction for a laugh.
Yet he still expected me to follow him to college. So when he called on move-in day, buzzing with excitement for our shared future, I let him ramble on about our plans. Then, I calmly cut through his fantasy.
"I'm not here, Damian."
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Chapter 5
I barely made it through the remaining exams. My mind was a fog of pain and disbelief. Yet, when the results were posted, my name was at the top. First place. The coveted Stanford early admission scholarship was mine, pending a final review period. One more hurdle, and my future, a future without Damian, could begin.
The review period was nearly over when the anonymous report landed. "Bullying." "Poor sportsmanship." "Unfit for a prestigious institution." The Stanford admissions team arrived at our school, launching an investigation. They interviewed students, teachers, administrators. I noticed, with a flicker of relief, that Gigi Wall and her immediate circle weren't on the interview list. Maybe this wouldn't be as bad as I thought.
Later that afternoon, after the final bell, my homeroom teacher called me into her office. I walked in, a nervous flutter in my stomach, expecting to discuss the final steps of my admission.
"Elena," Ms. Evans began, her voice soft, her eyes filled with a pity I couldn't quite decipher. "I'm so sorry, dear. Your early admission to Stanford… it's been revoked."
My mind went blank. The world tilted. My blood ran cold, then roared in my ears. "Revoked?" I whispered, my voice a barely audible croak. "There must be a mistake."
I replayed the past weeks in my mind. Had I offended someone else? Had there been another incident I wasn't aware of? A terrifying thought clawed its way to the surface. No. It couldn't be him. He wouldn't.
Ms. Evans' next words were like shards of ice. "The admissions committee found the accusations credible. And… well, Damian Cameron spoke with them. He corroborated some of the claims. He said… he said he was trying to protect you, but that your behavior had become a 'concern.'"
My world crumbled. It was him. The one person I had refused to believe would ever truly betray me. The coldness that had settled in my heart solidified into a block of ice. I numbly walked out of the office, the school hallways now feeling like a tomb. I couldn't even cry. There were no tears left.
He was waiting for me outside the school, leaning against the brick wall, a look of faux concern on his face. He pushed off the wall as I approached, his gaze unwavering.
"Was it you?" I asked, my voice flat, devoid of any emotion. "Did you tell them I was a bully? Did you ruin my scholarship?"
He flinched, his jaw tightening. "Elena, it's not like that. Gigi… she really needed this. Her family is going through a tough time, and this scholarship was her only way out. You're smart. You'll get into another great school. I can even help you apply to a different one." He took a step closer, his voice laced with a desperate urgency. "I promise I'll make it up to you, Elena. Anything you want."
I let out a bitter, humorless laugh. "Anything I want?" My voice echoed hollowly in the empty courtyard.
The irony was almost unbearable. Gigi, despite all his efforts, didn't get the scholarship either. The admissions committee, sensing something was off, had suspended the early admission program for our school that year. His grand plan had failed, spectacularly, in every way.
Later that week, Damian burst into my house, his face contorted with rage. "What did you do, Elena?" he demanded, his voice thick with accusation. "Gigi is devastated! She says you've been spreading rumors about her, trying to ruin her reputation!"
My parents, alarmed by his outburst, hovered in the background.
"She says you told everyone she cheated on the exam!" he continued, ignoring my stunned silence. "That's libel, Elena! You could be in serious trouble!"
"I told the truth," I said, my voice barely a whisper.
"The truth?" he scoffed, his eyes blazing. "You're just jealous, aren't you? You always were. You can't stand to see anyone else get ahead. You're so twisted, so manipulative. You're disgusting, Elena! A fat, ugly, conniving bitch!"
His words, spat with such venom, felt like physical blows. He wasn't just angry; he was trying to destroy me.
"Either you apologize to Gigi right now," he snarled, stepping closer, his face inches from mine, "or we're done. For good. You choose."
I looked at him, truly looked at him, and for the first time, I saw nothing left to salvage. I stayed silent.
The next morning, dozens of handwritten letters, my most intimate thoughts and desperate declarations of love for Damian, were plastered all over the school bulletin board. Each one was a piece of my soul, torn out and exposed for public ridicule. My fervent hopes, my secret crushes, all laid bare for everyone to mock. My heart, which I thought had nothing left to give, bled anew. I became the school's ultimate joke.
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7.4
My five-year-old daughter was dying in the ICU, her heartbeat replaced by the continuous, electronic scream of a flatline. I gripped her cold hand, my throat sealed shut by a terror so absolute I couldn't even cry out.
I dialed my husband Grayson's private number, the one reserved only for me and his assistants. He declined the call instantly. A second later, a text buzzed against my palm:
"In a meeting. Do not disturb. Stop calling."
Five miles away, Grayson was at a luxury gala, adjusting his silk tie and laughing with Belle Escobar. He told her I was just being "dramatic" and using our daughter's "fever" as an excuse to avoid the event. He had no idea Effie's heart had already stopped.
When I finally reached our penthouse, soaked from the rain and carrying Effie's small socks in a plastic bag, Grayson didn't even look at me. He snapped at me for ruining the hardwood floors and asked if I'd left Effie with the nanny just to "feel sorry for myself."
Three days later, while I buried our daughter in a small, lonely ceremony, Grayson was at the Hamptons. Belle posted a photo of him golfing with the caption: "A mental health day with the boys." He didn't even attend the funeral, but he returned home demanding I clear out Effie's room to make a study for Belle's son.
The injustice burned through me until there was nothing left. I swallowed a handful of sleeping pills, desperate to join my daughter. But instead of the darkness, I woke up to blinding lights and the scent of Grayson's expensive cologne.
I was standing in a ballroom, wearing a blue silk dress I had already burned. Above me, a banner read: "Happy 5th Birthday Kaiden & Effie."
I was back, exactly one year before the tragedy. This time, I wasn't going to be the grieving wife. I was going to be their worst nightmare.
8.9
Isabella Romano is the neglected princess of her family, casted away unknowingly by her father, she has lived with her mother all her life, seeking some fatherly love but she learnt to stop caring. Now after a reckless night she finds herself tangled in the sheets of a man she was told to always hate. Vladimir Volkov. A man far more scary that what she has been told, he is not just the boogeyman he is the one you send to kill the boogeyman. Imagine her shock when she finds out she hasn't just gotten the attention of The Russian Don but is also carrying his child
Follow the hate to love relationship of isabella and Vladimir and watch how they navigate their life in his dark world that he dragged her to, making her and his unborn child a target to the new arising enemy that aims to destroy both the Italians and the Russians.
9.1
It all started with a divorce, then chaos...
Elodie Beaumont's life is a mess. Her little beach resort is on the verge of going under, thanks to a new competitor - her ex-husband, Valerian Blackwood. Desperate, Elodie makes a deal with the devil himself: an alliance with Valerian. He agrees, but little does she know, he has an ulterior motive - to win her back.
Can love find its way back to shore after years at sea, especially when the past is a ghost and the future is uncharted?
8.6
Since returning to her family, Evelyn had never truly been accepted or treated as their own daughter.
On her wedding day, her parents chose her adopted sister over her, and the man she was supposed to marry abandoned her on the highway for his true love without even looking back once.
Heartbroken but resolute, she tore off her veil and stood before his rival. "I dare you to steal the bride."
Shane met her gaze. "Why wouldn't I?"
Their impulsive marriage shocked everyone. Her ex later begged, "Give me another chance."
Shane pulled her close, his voice cold. "Too late. She's my wife now."
8.2
My father was the King of Wall Street until he was branded a fraud, turning the Maxwell name into a lead weight dragging me to the bottom of the Hudson. I walked into the Brennan Media Tower with blood-red lipstick and a desperate proposal, offering myself as a "paper wife" to Garland Brennan, the coldest billionaire in Manhattan.
Garland didn’t even look at me as a human being; he tore my term sheet in half and called me "radioactive" before having security toss me out like trash. I returned to my rotting apartment in Bushwick only to find my roommate’s cousin, a debt collector named Jax, waiting to break my bones.
He pinned me against the wall, his hand heavy on my throat as he sneered about selling me to a club to pay off my father's debts. With my ribs aching and my back against the radiator, I had to leak corporate secrets on Twitter just to summon Garland’s private mercenaries to stop a predator.
The humiliation didn't stop there. At the Met Gala, the elite mocked my dress made of construction tarp, and my father’s creditors began harassing my senile grandmother in her nursing home. I was a cornered animal, and Garland Brennan was the only hunter offering a cage instead of a grave.
I realized then that in this zip code, you are either the predator or the prey, and I was tired of being hunted.
Garland offered me a marriage contract that demanded total submission—no equity, no voting rights, just an employee with a wedding ring. I signed the four-hundred-page document with a steady hand, but not before hiding a legal poison pill in the fine print. He thinks he bought a silent asset, but I just secured a front-row seat to his downfall.
8.4
Amara Cole never dreamed of marrying a billionaire. But when her mother's hospital bills grew unbearable, she signed a contract that bound her to the cold, ruthless Lucian Hale.
One year as his wife.
No love. No expectations. No freedom.
Lucian is everything she should fear-arrogant, powerful, and heartless. To him, Amara is nothing but a pawn in his world of business and betrayal. Yet the more she endures his cruel words and icy indifference, the more sparks begin to burn between them.
But their marriage is far from simple.
His jealous ex will do anything to destroy her.
His father calls her unworthy.
And another man's kindness makes her question if love is possible outside the contract.
Caught between duty and desire, Amara must find her strength before the year ends. Because when a ruthless billionaire starts to fall... the contract is the last thing he'll obey.