
His Unwanted Wife, Now Unreachable Queen
Bailey, an invisible shadow to the powerful Douglas family, stood in the freezing rain, watching City Hall. For five long years, she’d been used to being forgotten. But today, her entire world shattered as her fiancé, Jameson, walked out with another woman, Haleigh, holding their fresh marriage certificates.
Jameson scooped Haleigh into his arms, treating her like fragile glass, convinced she’d saved him from a burning car five years ago. He never knew it was Bailey who pulled him from the flames, nor that Haleigh's "sickness" had left Bailey with an ugly scar from donating bone marrow, making her a mere family blood bank.
Watching them kiss, pure nausea rose from years of blame. Bailey later found a joyous celebration for Haleigh at the manor. Her wet arrival drew only cold annoyance; Jameson gave pitying instructions before all four men rushed to Haleigh’s side when she faked a cough.
Haleigh, with a sweet smile, presented Bailey a "gift"—a velvet box. Forced to open it, a venomous Brown Recluse spider dropped onto Bailey's hand, sinking its fangs deep. As white-hot agony exploded and her vision blurred, Haleigh theatrically screamed, deliberately scraping her forehead.
The men, blind with panic for Haleigh’s minor scratch, roared at Bailey, shoved her to the floor, and rushed Haleigh to the car. Left to die alone, struggling for breath as her body shut down, Bailey knew this was the end of playing their disgusting game. She had already activated her hidden trust fund, planning to buy a remote island and disappear forever.
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Chapter 2
Bailey Douglas POV:
I pushed open the heavy oak doors of Abernathy's law firm in Manhattan. My wet heels left a trail of dark, muddy water on the pristine beige carpet.
The receptionist at the front desk looked up. She saw my soaked trench coat, my ruined shoes, and my pale face. She immediately stood up, wrinkling her nose in disgust, and moved to block my path.
"Excuse me, you can't just—"
The door to the inner office opened. Abernathy stepped out. The moment he saw me, he waved the receptionist away. A flash of deep respect crossed his aged face.
I followed him into his private conference room. The air conditioning was running on high. The cold air hit my wet clothes, and a violent shiver wrecked my body. My immune system was garbage. Donating bone marrow and countless pints of blood to Haleigh over the years had left me permanently weak.
Abernathy pulled a dry cashmere blanket from a cabinet and handed it to me. He poured a cup of steaming black coffee and set it on the mahogany table.
I didn't touch the coffee. I pulled out a chair and sat down. "Show me the asset list."
Abernathy sighed. He unlocked a heavy floor safe and pulled out a thick stack of documents. He pushed them across the table. "Ms. Douglas, dumping these stocks today is financial suicide. You are losing millions."
I picked up the heavy steel pen from his desk. I didn't even look at the final dollar amount. I flipped to the last page and signed my name on the dotted line.
I pressed down so hard the metal nib tore through the thick paper, leaving a dark, jagged scar of ink. It was done.
Abernathy silently put the papers away. He opened his laptop and turned the screen toward me. It showed an encrypted registry of private islands in the Caribbean.
My eyes scanned past the luxury resorts and the developed properties. I pointed to a tiny, jagged green dot in the middle of nowhere. It had no docks. No buildings.
"That one," I said.
Abernathy stared at me in shock. "Ms. Douglas, that island has no infrastructure. No running water, no electricity grid. It is completely isolated from the world."
A cold smile touched my lips. "That is exactly what I want. A place where no one can ever find me."
Abernathy nodded slowly. "Gathering the liquid funds and processing the deed transfer will take about two weeks."
I stood up. I folded the cashmere blanket and placed it neatly on the back of the chair. "Until then, the Douglas family knows nothing. Absolute secrecy."
By the time I left the law firm and took a cab back to the Douglas Manor in Long Island, the sky was pitch black.
I stood in front of the massive brass gates. I looked up at the second floor. The floor-to-ceiling windows were blazing with light. I could hear the loud, joyful laughter spilling out into the cold night.
That laughter. That sound of a happy family that I was never allowed to be part of. It had haunted my entire childhood.
I took a deep breath. I placed my freezing hands on the brass handles and pushed the heavy doors open.
The moment the doors parted, a wave of heat, the smell of white roses, and the loud pop of a champagne bottle hit my face.
The grand foyer was transformed. White flowers covered every surface. The long dining table was buried under mountains of expensive gift boxes.
Jameson stood in the center of the room. He held a crystal champagne flute. His eyes were soft and full of absolute devotion as he looked at Haleigh, who was surrounded by her three brothers.
Derrick, the eldest, was carefully fastening a massive diamond necklace around Haleigh's neck.
Blake, the second brother, held a digital camera, filming Haleigh's fake tears of joy.
Kane, the youngest brother, held a plate with a slice of cake, carefully feeding it to Haleigh like she was a helpless child.
The cold wind from the open door swept into the room. It hit the crystal wind chimes hanging in the hall. They crashed together with a sharp, piercing ring.
Every single person in the room froze.
Five pairs of eyes looked past the sea of white roses and landed on me. I stood there, dripping muddy water onto their perfect floor.
The tender look on Jameson's face vanished. His brows crashed together. A brief flash of guilt crossed his eyes, but it was instantly swallowed by cold annoyance.
Haleigh's smile froze for a fraction of a second. Then, she shrank back against Jameson's chest, her eyes widening like a terrified deer.
Kane slammed the cake plate down onto the table. The porcelain shattered with a loud crack.
He marched toward me, his face twisted in rage. He stopped a foot away, looking down at my soaked, shivering body with pure disgust.
"Do you look like this because you're back for a funeral?"
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9.7
I ran through the freezing rain, desperate to escape the Pennington estate. My adoptive family had raised me for one purpose: to be sold off as a bargaining chip in a wealthy arranged marriage.
But before I could reach the highway, I was cornered. Not just by my family's cruel guards, but by Hollis Wall—a terrifying, ruthless billionaire who snapped my tormentor's wrist and dragged me into his car. He didn't want a ransom. He threw a prenuptial agreement in my lap.
I thought he was insane until he took a scalpel to his own arm, and a burning agony ripped across my flawless skin. Because of a near-drowning accident three years ago, our nervous systems were linked. Every time I bled, he felt the agony. He locked me in his fortress to keep me safe, but when I finally escaped back to my adoptive parents, they didn't protect me. Instead, my adoptive father smiled and showed me a live video of my biological father on life support, a guard's hand hovering over the plug.
"You will marry Douglas Cherry tomorrow, or your father dies," he sneered.
My own family was willing to murder my only real flesh and blood just to secure their wealth. I collapsed onto the cold marble floor, my heart crushed in a vice of absolute, suffocating despair.
"I'll marry him," I sobbed, surrendering to the darkness.
But miles away, in his dark study, the ruthless Hollis Wall violently collapsed to the floor, gasping for air as my severe panic attack bled directly into his chest. Our twisted bond was killing him, and I knew he would tear the city apart to find me.

8.9
Debora went to prison to protect the man she loved, only to end up a paroled convict living under the roof of her abusive foster parents.
When they found her positive pregnancy test from a one-night stand, they threatened to kick her out and send her straight back to a cell.
Just as they were about to report her, the stranger from that dark hotel room suddenly appeared.
He paid her foster parents one million dollars to marry her and take her away.
Debora thought she was finally safe.
But the moment they were alone, he looked at her with pure, venomous hatred.
He didn't want a wife; he wanted a prisoner.
He believed Debora was the ruthless murderer who had destroyed his life in a car crash, and he planned to make her suffocate in her own despair.
He didn't know she was just a scapegoat.
To survive and protect her baby, Debora found a job at a bridal shop, only to run into the real culprit—the man who actually drove the car and framed her.
He was now happily engaged to a wealthy heiress.
They deliberately ruined a priceless wedding gown and blamed it on her.
"Kneel on this floor and apologize, or I'm calling the police to revoke your parole!"
Why did she have to rot in hell for his sins, while the man she married wanted to destroy her?
Just as her trembling knees were about to touch the cold marble floor, the heavy glass doors were violently shoved open.
Her billionaire husband strode in like a force of nature, his eyes locked onto the wealthy couple with a terrifying, destructive rage.

9.6
My world revolved around Jax Harding, my older brother's captivating rockstar friend.
From sixteen, I adored him; at eighteen, I clung to his casual promise: "When you're 22, maybe I'll settle down."
That offhand comment became my life's beacon, guiding every choice, meticulously planning my twenty-second birthday as our destiny.
But on that pivotal day in a Lower East Side bar, clutching my gift, my dream exploded.
I overheard Jax' s cold voice: "Can't believe Savvy's showing up. She' s still hung up on that stupid thing I said."
Then the crushing plot: "We' re gonna tell Savvy I' m engaged to Chloe, maybe even hint she' s pregnant. That should scare her off."
My gift, my future, slipped from my numb fingers.
I fled into the cold New York rain, devastated by betrayal.
Later, Jax introduced Chloe as his "fiancée" while his bandmates mocked my "adorable crush"-he did nothing.
As an art installation fell, he saved Chloe, abandoning me to severe injury.
In the hospital, he came for "damage control," then shockingly shoved me into a fountain, leaving me to bleed, calling me a "jealous psycho."
How could the man I loved, who once saved me, become this cruel and publicly humiliate me?
Why was my devotion seen as an annoyance to be brutally extinguished with lies and assault?
Was I just a problem, my loyalty met with hatred?
I would not be his victim.
Injured and betrayed, I made an unshakeable vow: I was done.
I blocked his number and everyone connected to him, severing ties.
This was not an escape; this was my rebirth.
Florence awaited, a new life on my terms, unburdened by broken promises.

9.2
Nica caught her boyfriend, Chris, and her best friend, Ella, in a shocking betrayal. Chris was kissing Ella while caressing her close, and Ella only smirked at Nica as if she had won. Nica got pissed off and swore she would not let their betrayal go unpunished. What happens next? Read the story and find out for yourself.

9.0
My father was dying in the ICU, and our family company, the Martin Group, was on the verge of total collapse.
While I was desperately trying to sign the consent form for his life-saving surgery, my fiancé, Eston, sent me a text.
"I told you not to be stubborn. The company is mine by Friday. Beg me, and I might pay for the funeral."
He had been secretly looting my family's assets from the inside, waiting for me to break so he could steal everything. He thought I would crawl back to him in absolute despair, surrendering my father's legacy just to survive. The sheer weight of my helplessness crushed my chest as the heart monitor next to my father's bed let out a frantic, high-pitched scream.
The betrayal tore through me, but the despair quickly hardened into a cold, sharp stone.
Why should I let the man who ruined me dance on my family's grave? Why should I let him walk away with everything while I lost the only family I had left?
I wiped away my tears and blocked his number permanently.
Then, I stepped out into the freezing Manhattan rain and went straight to the top floor of the Maxwell building.
I threw my remaining shares onto the desk of Ellwood Maxwell—the apex predator of Wall Street, and Eston's untouchable, ruthless uncle.
"I want you to marry me," Ellwood said, pushing a marriage contract toward me. "That is the only way your company survives."
I picked up the pen. If Eston wanted to destroy my life, I would become his aunt and make him bow.

9.3
He was supposed to be my brother. The cold CEO everyone feared. The man who controlled the entire country's business world.
But one night, he looked at me and calmly destroyed everything I thought I knew.
"We're getting married."
I laughed, but he didn't.
Now every door in my life is closing, every choice is disappearing, and the one man I'm not supposed to love refuses to let me go.
Because to Lucien Hale, this was never forbidden. It was inevitable.
And the most terrifying part? The closer I get to him, the harder it becomes to run.