
His Unwanted Wife Is A Dying Genius
The biopsy report slid across the cold metal desk, stamped with a brutal death sentence: advanced gastric cancer. Aretha had exactly ninety days left to live.
It was her twenty-sixth birthday, but her phone only rang with a furious call from her husband, Anders.
"Do you have any idea how much of a joke you made this family look like today? Post a public apology to Kelli right now."
He had completely forgotten her birthday, only caring that she skipped her adopted sister's yacht party.
When Aretha dragged her failing body back to the family estate, her biological mother slapped her across the face just for looking pale and embarrassing them in front of guests.
Seeing Aretha wasn't submitting to the usual abuse, Kelli deliberately threw herself down the stairs, playing the innocent, depressed victim.
Anders rushed in and shoved Aretha brutally against the wall to protect Kelli, while her biological father delivered his ultimate threat.
"I am freezing your trust fund. Get on your knees and apologize to Kelli right now, or you won't see another dime."
A massive, suffocating sense of absurdity washed over Aretha. She had spent six years lowering her head and begging for their approval, only to be treated like a disposable placeholder. Why should she spend her final days enduring this agonizing torture for people who didn't even care if she breathed?
Aretha wiped the blood from her chin and laughed. She publicly severed all ties with her family, whipped the signed divorce papers directly at Anders's face, and walked out into the freezing storm—ready to fight for her own life.
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Chapter 2
The taxi tires crunched against the gravel as it pulled up to the wrought-iron gates of the Hines Estate in Long Island.
Aretha handed the driver a bill, stepped out into the freezing air, and completely ignored the shocked look on the security guard's face.
She walked up the grand steps and pushed open the heavy, double mahogany doors.
The blinding light from the massive crystal chandelier poured over her.
Inside the spacious, classical foyer, the after-party for Kelli's birthday was in full swing. The air smelled of expensive perfume and roasted duck. Women in haute couture gowns laughed while men in tailored suits held crystal glasses of bourbon.
Aretha stepped inside. She was wearing a dark, wind-chilled trench coat that looked entirely out of place among the glittering evening wear.
For half a second, the entire hall went dead silent.
Meredith Hines, Aretha's biological mother, was standing near the grand staircase talking to a group of socialites. She turned her head.
When she saw her actual daughter standing there like an uninvited ghost, the polite smile on Meredith's face instantly vanished.
Meredith set her champagne flute down on a passing tray. Her high heels clicked sharply against the marble floor as she marched over.
She didn't ask why Aretha looked so pale. She didn't ask if she was okay.
"Where are your manners?" Meredith hissed, her voice a harsh, reprimanding whip. "You show up late, dressed like a vagrant, and embarrass this family in front of our guests?"
Aretha stood perfectly still. Her eyes were as calm as a stagnant pool of water. She watched her mother perform her usual routine of absolute favoritism.
She didn't lower her head. She didn't apologize.
Aretha straightened her spine, looking Meredith dead in the eye. "Whose manners are we talking about, Mother?" she asked, her voice chillingly flat. "Yours, or the ones you made up for me?"
The unprecedented arrogance in Aretha's tone completely shattered Meredith's control.
Meredith raised her hand. On her middle finger sat a massive, square-cut emerald ring.
She swung her arm and slapped Aretha hard across the face.
The sharp, cracking sound echoed through the cavernous hall. The music seemed to fade. The guests stopped talking, their eyes locking onto the drama unfolding by the door.
The force of the blow snapped Aretha's head to the side. The heavy emerald ring scraped violently against the corner of her mouth.
A warm bead of blood immediately welled up, sliding down her chin.
The sudden, violent spike in her adrenaline triggered a massive cramp deep in her stomach. It felt like her organs were being wrung out like a wet towel.
Her vision went entirely black for a second. Her body swayed.
Aretha bit down on her back teeth so hard her jaw popped. She forced the metallic taste of blood back down her throat and planted her feet firmly on the marble floor. She refused to bend.
"Mom!"
Kelli ran out from the crowd. She was wearing a custom-made white tulle dress, looking like a terrified, innocent dove. She hiked up her skirt and rushed over.
Kelli grabbed Meredith's arm, her eyes already brimming with fake tears. "Mom, please don't be mad," she begged, her voice trembling.
Kelli turned to Aretha, her expression the picture of guilt. "Ari, it's all my fault. I shouldn't have expected you to come celebrate my birthday. I know you hate me."
The guests immediately began whispering. The looks they shot Aretha were filled with pure disgust.
Meredith grabbed Kelli's hands, rubbing them soothingly. "Oh, sweetheart, don't cry. You did nothing wrong," Meredith cooed, treating the adopted daughter like a fragile piece of glass.
Aretha slowly raised the back of her hand. She wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth, her movements agonizingly deliberate.
She looked at Meredith. Then she looked at Kelli.
Knowing she only had ninety days left to live made this entire soap opera look incredibly, pathetically hilarious.
Aretha started to laugh.
It wasn't a loud laugh, but it was filled with so much self-mockery and absolute contempt that it made the hairs on the back of Meredith's neck stand up.
"Are you insane?" Meredith demanded, her voice shrill.
Aretha stopped laughing. Her eyes locked onto Meredith, sharp and unyielding.
"From this second on," Aretha said, enunciating every single word, "I will never ask you for a drop of a mother's love ever again."
She didn't wait to see the shock register on Meredith's face.
Aretha bypassed the two women entirely, walking straight toward the grand spiral staircase that led to the second floor.
Kelli watched Aretha's retreating back. A flash of vicious calculation crossed her teary eyes.
Kelli let go of Meredith's hand. "I'll go get an ice pack for her," she whispered sweetly, before quietly slipping away and following Aretha up the stairs.
Aretha heard the soft, deliberate footsteps trailing behind her.
She didn't care. She kept walking.
She was heading to the cramped guest room at the end of the hall to grab the last of her personal belongings. The real storm was just about to begin.
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8.0
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8.7
Explicit 18+ | Reader Discretion Strongly Advised
Dark themes, noncon/dubcon, extreme kink, power imbalance, group dynamics, knotting, overstimulation, and possessive claiming ahead.
A brutal omegaverse world. Warring packs. Rare silver-eyed omega Kai Voss lives hidden until a midnight raid destroys his safety.
The most feared triad captures him: Thorne Blackwood, a pierced sadist who pushes limits; Aurelius Voss, the volatile second, his knot pulsing with hunger; Cassian Reyes, the silent, amber-eyed observer whose fixation vows complete ownership. Dragged to their mountain den, Kai becomes their prize.
Defiant and sharp-tongued, Kai resists every command. His body betrays him with slick, aching need. On the first night, the alphas take him, one by one, then together. They stretch him past reason. Knot him impossibly. Fill him until his rim thins visibly. Slick eases the searing burn into shattering pleasure.
"Room for one more?" Thorne growls, forcing his pierced length beside the two already locked inside. He drags across sensitive spots until Kai arches, tears falling, his body yielding as omega instincts beg for more.
Three cocks locked and throbbing, owning him entirely.
"Fuck, he's taking us all," Aurelius groans.
Cassian watches silently, eyes blazing, plotting the next step to remake Kai forever.
Raw conquest becomes unbreakable obsession: relentless heats, punishments blending pain and ecstasy, jealous rivalries over cries, rare tenderness binding possession deeper.
Three ruthless alphas pursue the forbidden, shattering their defiant omega until he is stretched wide, ruined, reborn in their image. Relentless desire shows no mercy: tight entrances forced open, rimmed raw by impossible girths, slick-soaked and pulsing under unyielding ownership.
Hide and read in secret. Once the story begins, escape is impossible. Squirm. Ache. Hunger for every page.
DON'T BLAME ME WHEN YOU CAN'T STOP READING ALL 150 CHAPTERS ⚠️🔞‼️

9.1
He postponed putting my name on the deed 18 times.
Each time, his mentee Ciera had an “emergency.” Each time, he ran to her.
I watched him give her his prized Montblanc pen—the one he wouldn’t even let me borrow. I saw her post their late nights on Instagram. I ate anniversary dinners alone while he “mentored” her.
Then he bought me a necklace—identical to the one she just flaunted online.
That was when I stopped feeling anything.
I didn’t cry. I didn’t fight. I simply packed two suitcases, resigned from our firm, and booked a one-way ticket to London.
He thinks I’m coming back in a week.
He has no idea I’m gone for good.
Nineteen broken promises. One silent goodbye. And a new life waiting across the ocean.

7.2
Allie Patterson poured fifteen years into her husband Grayson’s tech startup, living in a cramped San Jose apartment. Every penny, every late night coding session, was for their shared future, built on his constant claims the company struggled, always on the verge of its big break.
Then, a grant deed arrived: a stunning $4.2 million Atherton villa, paid in full, listing Grayson and an unknown Kacey Schmidt as joint tenants.
Her coffee mug shattered as Allie’s world imploded. Driving to the mansion, she found Kacey in silk pajamas, flaunting a massive pink diamond and, beneath it, Grayson’s grandmother’s heirloom ring – the one he’d tearfully claimed to have lost years ago.
Kacey purred, "He's in the shower. We were so tired last night."
The words were a serrated knife, twisting, confirming years of lies.
Humiliation and rage burned out, leaving a terrifying, absolute silence. All her sacrifice and trust were a cruel, elaborate joke, orchestrated by the man she loved.
Allie calmly took photos, then gave herself one minute in her beat-up car to mourn. When it passed, her tears stopped, replaced by cold, calculated murder in her eyes. She typed a text to Grayson:
"Come home early tonight. I have a surprise for you."

9.0
My ex-husband returned after a three-year bet, ready to reclaim me and the son he thought was his. He had no idea that I'd secretly aborted his child, divorced him, and remarried the day he left. His world was about to come crashing down.
His delusion turned deadly when he and his manipulative best friend, Haylee, kidnapped my son, Leo.
I found them at his family's mansion, with Leo suffocating from a severe allergic reaction to a dog they were forcing him to play with. Elliot physically restrained me, scolding me for overreacting while Haylee giggled as my son turned blue.
At the hospital, as Leo fought for his life, Elliot grabbed my arm, demanding to know who the man standing beside me was. He was convinced this was all a game to make him jealous.
That's when my real husband, billionaire Gregory Morton, stepped forward.
"Since when is this child yours, Elliot?"

9.1
The best way to get back at a cheating bastard? Make him sick to his stomach for the rest of his life!
Days before her wedding, Corinne caught her fiancé cheating with his coworker in what she thought was their future home.
Furious, she tore everything apart, ended the engagement, and decided on a bold revenge plan.
To make him regret it for life, she set her sights on marrying his powerful uncle. Confident in her scheme, she tried to win over the cold, untouchable man, only to realize too late that she had mistaken his identity.
The man she married was far more dangerous than she imagined!
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