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 9
The Jeep didn't pull up to a standard hospital. Instead, it passed through three layers of heavily armed security gates before entering a hidden, ultra-exclusive villa complex on the outskirts of Los Angeles.
They parked in front of a modern building wrapped in bulletproof glass and sleek metal. On the surface, it looked like a billionaire's retreat. In reality, it was a cutting-edge private laboratory.
Kian unlocked the doors, walked around, and half-carried Aretha out of the passenger seat.
They walked up to the entrance. A red laser scanned Kian's iris, followed by a fingerprint verification. The heavy glass doors slid open, revealing a sterile, white corridor humming with the low frequency of massive servers.
Kian led her to the end of the hall and pushed open a heavy, airtight door.
They stepped into a massive room filled with holographic projectors and complex diagnostic machines.
In the center of the room sat an elderly man with stark white hair. He was strapped into a highly advanced, motorized wheelchair, paralyzed from the neck down.
A neural-link interface was attached to his temples. He was using his brainwaves to manipulate a massive, rotating holographic model of a complex molecular structure.
Hearing the door open, the old man spun his wheelchair around.
When his eyes landed on Aretha's face, a brilliant, sharp light exploded in his gaze.
It was Dr. Julian Cromwell-the absolute titan of global biotechnology.
Aretha gasped, her hands flying up to cover her mouth. This was her former mentor at MIT. The man she had idolized her entire life.
Kian stood behind her, his voice low. "I know you gave up your PhD for that damn billionaire family. It was the biggest regret of your life."
Dr. Cromwell's voice came through a synthetic speaker mounted on his chair. It sounded mechanical, but the raw emotion was undeniable. "You wasted a once-in-a-century scientific mind, Aretha. It is a tragedy."
Aretha looked down at her shaking hands. "Doctor... I don't even have the strength to hold a pipette anymore. I'm dying."
Dr. Cromwell let out a harsh, synthetic scoff. He focused his eyes on the screen, and a highly classified file regarding a synthetic biological virus antibody slid across the monitor toward her.
"We hit a sequencing bottleneck," Dr. Cromwell said. "You are the only person on this planet who can crack the algorithm."
He looked at her intensely. "Join my team. In exchange, this facility will use every piece of technology we have to keep your vital organs functioning."
Aretha's eyes were drawn to the screen. She stared at the bizarre, twisted molecular structure of the synthetic virus. Something about it felt eerily familiar to the pain in her own gut.
Deep inside her deadened soul, the spark of a top-tier scientist ignited. The desire to solve the puzzle flared up, weak but undeniable.
Kian stepped up close behind her. He placed both hands firmly on her shoulders. "If you're going to die," he whispered, "die on your own battlefield. Not in the backyard of some arrogant billionaire."
Those words shattered her hesitation. A massive wave of purpose flooded her veins.
Aretha took a deep breath, ignoring the sharp pain in her stomach. She looked at Dr. Cromwell and gave a firm, decisive nod.
She walked forward and extended her trembling hand, shaking the paralyzed doctor's mechanical arm. A reunion six years in the making.
Dr. Cromwell immediately barked orders through his comms. "Get her to the VIP lab. Full cellular blood screening. Now."
Two nurses in crisp white coats appeared, placing Aretha in a wheelchair and rolling her into the adjacent sterile room.
As the needle pierced her vein and the dark red blood flowed into the vials, Aretha felt incredibly calm. She had a purpose again.
After the draw, the nurse instructed her to wait in the plush leather chairs of the hallway lounge while Kian stayed behind to discuss security protocols. Aretha leaned her head back against the leather, closing her eyes, her brain already running millions of genetic sequences.
Suddenly, Kian marched into the lounge, his laptop screen glowing. "You won't believe what I just intercepted from the Cedars-Sinai public hospital network," he said, his voice laced with disgust. The sound of a highly irritating, fake sobbing echoing from his speakers made Aretha physically nauseous. She slowly opened her eyes. The temperature in her gaze dropped to freezing. Even miles away from New York, the person she hated most was still playing her twisted games.
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8.0
When gifted cellist Vivienne Aurel inherits her late father's catastrophic $4.2 million debt, she expects to lose everything. She doesn't expect the debt to be bought by Caspian Vane, the most feared private equity magnate in New York. Caspian doesn't want to ruin her; he wants her to work exclusively for him as the artistic director of his new cultural foundation for eighteen months. Forced into his world under a binding agreement, Vivienne prepares to fight against a cold, transactional cage. But as the intense, quiet proximity between them begins to blur the lines of their contract, she discovers a terrifying truth: the man who now owns her future has been watching her from the shadows long before she ever knew his name.
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!
Corinne decided to make a quick escape. "Let's get a divorce. We're clearly not right for each other... "
He cornered her with a knowing smile, "Not right for each other? Funny, that's not what you said last night in bed. Want me to remind you how wrong you are?"