Husband's Lies, Mistress's Son
My world crumbled when I saw my husband, Arthur, across the street with his mistress, Karin, and a son who was his spitting image. For years, he' d told me he wasn' t ready for a family. It was all a lie.
But the true horror began at my own awards ceremony.
Karin' s son, coached to hate me, rushed the stage and attacked me. The assault caused me to miscarry the baby Arthur swore he never wanted. As I lay bleeding on the stage, my husband didn't help.
He shoved me aside, his eyes blazing with fury.
"You monster!" he roared, scooping up his son and leaving me shattered in front of everyone.
Later, Karin cornered me, her voice a triumphant whisper. "I made sure you'd lose the baby." Then, she pushed me off a cliff into the churning ocean below.
But I didn't die. A fisherman pulled me from the water, broken but alive. As the world mourned the "accidental drowning" of Elenora Dawson, I made a call to the Vienna Conservatory.
"I accept."
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Chapter 4
The makeup artist, a young woman named Chloe, delicately applied the finishing touches to my look. The deep emerald dress shimmered, hugging my curves, a stark contrast to the pale, fragile woman I had been. My hair, usually pulled back in a neat bun, cascaded in loose, elegant waves around my shoulders. I looked at my reflection. A stranger stared back. A stronger, colder woman. A woman ready for war.
Arthur arrived, his eyes widening. "Elenora," he breathed, a genuine admiration in his voice. "You look... incredible." He reached for my hand, but I subtly pulled it away.
"Thank you, Arthur," I said, my voice cool, distant.
We walked into the ballroom, a symphony of hushed whispers and polite applause. He played the part of the doting husband perfectly, his hand lightly on my back, his smiles charming, his eyes scanning for important faces. He basked in the reflected glow of my musical achievements, pretending he was the supportive partner who had made it all possible.
But the victory felt hollow. Contaminated. Every compliment, every congratulatory handshake, felt like a joke. A cruel, elaborate charade he had forced me into.
The lights dimmed. The host stepped onto the stage. "And now, for the moment we've all been waiting for! The recipient of this year's prestigious Golden Baton Award for Classical Composition, Elenora Dawson!"
The applause was deafening. I walked towards the stage, a practiced smile on my face. This was my moment. My hard-won recognition.
Then, a sudden, high-pitched shriek pierced the air. Leo. He burst onto the stage, a tiny whirlwind of chaos. He ran straight for the microphone, grabbing it with both hands.
"My Daddy's wife is mean!" he yelled, his voice amplified, echoing through the stunned silence of the ballroom. "She tries to take Daddy away from me and Mommy! She doesn't deserve a prize!"
The crowd gasped. Murmurs erupted, shocked whispers filling the elegant space. Karin, from the front row, rushed forward, feigning distress. "Oh, Leo, darling, you shouldn't say such things!" Her eyes, however, gleamed with malicious satisfaction.
Leo turned to me, his small face contorted in a terrifying mimicry of adult rage. "Give me your prize, ugly lady! It's mine! Daddy says I'm the best, not you!" He pointed at the shiny golden baton held by the host.
"Leo, no," I said softly, my voice barely audible above the rising clamor. My heart was pounding, a sickening rhythm against my ribs. This wasn't happening.
He lunged for the baton, his small, strong hands grabbing at my fingers. I held on tight; this was mine, the symbol of my life's work.
He whimpered, then bit my hand. Hard. A sharp, searing pain shot through me. I cried out, instinctively pulling my hand back. The golden baton clattered to the stage floor.
Chaos erupted. People were on their feet, shouting. Leo, seeing his chance, kicked me in the shin. A vicious, premeditated strike.
"Elenora, what have you done?!" Arthur's voice, thick with rage, roared beside me. He pushed me aside, roughly, as if I were a mere obstacle. His eyes, usually so charming, were blazing with fury. Not at Leo. Not at Karin. At me.
He knelt beside Leo, scooping the boy into his arms. "Are you okay, champ? Did she hurt you?" He glared at me, his face contorted in disgust. "You monster!"
I stumbled backward, the pain in my hand and shin nothing compared to the searing ache in my chest. He had just assaulted me. In front of everyone. For them.
Karin was there, her arm linked through Arthur's, a triumphant smirk playing on her lips. She leaned in, her voice a poisonous whisper in my ear. "See? He'll always choose his real family, Elenora. Always."
Arthur, with Leo safe in his arms and Karin clinging to his side, turned and strode out of the ballroom, leaving me shattered and exposed on the stage. As they disappeared, Leo craned his neck, sticking out his tongue and making a grotesque face at me. The malicious glee in his eyes sent a shiver down my spine.
A sudden, blinding pain shot through my head. Then, a dull ache spread through my lower abdomen. A sickening warmth blossomed between my legs. My dress, once emerald green, was now stained crimson.
No. No, this couldn't be happening.
My vision swam. The faces in the crowd blurred. The beautiful, elegant ballroom spun around me. The golden baton, lying forgotten on the stage, glittered mockingly.
The baby. Our baby. The one he never wanted.
A guttural sob ripped from my throat. A despair so profound, so absolute, consumed me. The world went dark.
I fell. And knew nothing more.
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8.4
Title: 365: The Architecture of Yearning
Five years. That's how long Sebastian Moretti has been a ghost, haunting the streets of London in search of the girl with green eyes who shattered his cold, Sicilian heart.
To the world, Sebastian is the "King of Shadows"-a man of ice, blood, and absolute power. But in the silence of his private villa, he is a man hollowed out by a single, obsessive memory. He didn't just want a woman; he wanted the soul of the girl who didn't even know his name.
When he finally takes her, he gives her a choice that feels like a sentence: 365 days to fall in love with him, or she goes free.
Elara Vance was a woman of logic, a quiet architect building a life out of glass and steel in London. She never expected to be the centerpiece of a mafia king's obsession. She should hate him for the gilded cage he's built for her. She should run from the darkness that follows him like a shroud.
But as the days bleed into nights, the lines between captive and queen begin to blur. Behind Sebastian's terrifying dominance is a raw, agonizing yearning that pulls at Elara's soul. In the heat of the Sicilian sun and the unfiltered intimacy of the midnight hours, she discovers that the man who stole her is the only one who truly sees her.
As a Russian war looms and betrayals surface from within, Elara must decide: is she a prisoner of his walls, or the architect of his heart?
In a world where every touch is a claim and every kiss is a battle, 365 days might not be enough. Because once the monster falls in love, he doesn't just want your time.
He wants your forever.
9.4
My brother and his wife slapped the contract on the table, forcing me to marry Alpha Stone. He was a cruel monster known for breaking his mates' bones, and I was just the price for a new trade route.
Right before I surrendered, the legendary Blackwood Pack arrived. But they didn't offer a glorious rescue. They claimed I was the fated mate of Kaelan, a disgraced, wolfless Omega.
My family laughed in my face, eagerly taking the dowry and throwing me out like garbage. They mocked my miserable future, sending me off to a crumbling shack in the woods. When they later summoned us back to publicly demand a humiliating "tribute" to bleed us dry, they waited for me to break.
"Couldn't handle life in a shack with an Omega? Come crawling back already?" my sister-in-law sneered.
But I refused to let them shame him. I didn't understand why the Moon Goddess gave me an Omega, but Kaelan was kind, giving me the only bed while he slept on the cold floor. Why did my family value a cruel Alpha over a gentle soul? I declared to their faces that his loyal spirit was worth more than any title.
Then, a vicious rogue wolf threatened us at the local market.
My "wolfless" husband stepped in front of me and grabbed the rogue's wrist.
Suddenly, a suffocating, terrifying Alpha King's aura exploded from Kaelan, bringing the rogue to his knees in pure terror.
I stared at my quiet, supposedly weak mate in absolute shock. Who exactly did I marry?
8.1
HOSTILE OATH
8.1
Vivian bears the weight of an ancestral curse, a yoke forged in darkness, which was meant to be broken. A future ravaged by war and chaos loomed, threatening her destiny but Vivian's path was not yet set to answer to her inheritance. Ignorant of her true identity, she couldn't control the powers she possessed, losing loved ones in the process and consumed by self-guilt. Yet, from the ashes of despair, she felt the rage and determination to harness the powers consuming her in her shadow and forge a new path; maybe she could get back all she had lost in all possible ways she could.
Prophecy were made, and a formidable force stirred, rising to challenge her claim. When a greater threat arose, Vivian faced a brutal reality: prepare for battle or succumb to the shadows but there was a price to pay.
She was left with two options; reclaim her birthright or shatter the chains of destiny!
9.6
I was his possession. The entire world knew that Jackson Walters, the ruthless tech mogul, had destroyed my life to claim me.
Then he brought home his new intern, Kaila, and sat me down.
"I've decided," he said casually, "I want you both."
When I fought back, he dragged me to a remote warehouse to teach me a lesson. My parents were bound and gagged, suspended by ropes over a massive, grumbling wood chipper.
He gave me ten seconds to accept Kaila, or he'd drop them. "I agree!" I screamed in surrender. But it was too late. A frayed rope snapped, and I watched my parents plunge into the machine's grinding teeth.
The horror of it all killed me. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back in his bed. The date on my phone was the day he brought Kaila home. This time, I wouldn't fight him. I would be his perfect, obedient wife. And while he was distracted, I would fake my own death and disappear forever.
7.8
I returned to Boston after three years, not for forgiveness, but to die.
My family, who blamed me for my mother's death, had cast me out, replacing me with a quiet, grateful orphan named Gabriela. She stole my father's love, my brother's affection, and my childhood sweetheart, Corey.
Now, terminally ill, my only wish was to reclaim my mother's wedding dress, a final piece of her to hold onto. But Gabriela was wearing it to marry Corey.
When I confronted her, she destroyed my mother's locket and cursed me to drop dead. In a blind rage, I slapped her. She shrieked, stabbed her own arm, and framed me for the attack.
As my family and Corey looked on with disgust, calling me a maniac, my body gave out. I collapsed, coughing up blood, my secret illness revealed in the most brutal way possible.
"You always blame me," I gasped, the words bubbling out with blood. "But I was just... dying."
Their faces filled with dawning horror, but it was too late. I was already gone.
Until I opened my eyes again, and my mother, who had been waiting for me all along, took my hand. "We'll be reborn," she promised, her eyes blazing with fury at the family who had destroyed me. "Together. As mother and daughter, again."
8.9
Eleanor POV:
My husband, Adrien, was my shield against the world, the only one who understood the trauma that haunted me after my family was murdered. I clung to him, my fierce loyalty a desperate attempt to keep the monsters at bay.
Then he brought home Daphne, a quiet barista he called innocent. I saw the manipulation in her downcast eyes, but he saw only purity.
His affection turned to violence. He threw me against a wall, his words cutting deeper than any blow.
"You disgust me," he spat.
He let her get pregnant, and when I lost our child in the chaos, he accused me of murder. "You killed my child!" he roared, his love replaced by a chilling hatred.
He bound me, broke me, and left me for dead in a burning helicopter, choosing to save her instead. I was the monster, the madwoman, the one who deserved to be destroyed.
How could the man who swore to protect me become my greatest tormentor?
But I survived. After faking my death to escape his hell, I watched him mourn me with crocodile tears while building a new life with my replacement. Now, I'm back to reclaim my name, my fortune, and to make him understand what a real monster looks like.