My Cruel Ex-Husband Demands A Remarriage
I spun the dial on the hidden wall safe, expecting to find the Glock 19 Aiden insisted I keep.
Instead, I found a ledger proving my husband, the Mafia's most feared Enforcer, was funding a secret family with my dead father's money.
For seven years, I had been his obedient doll. I cleaned the blood off his knuckles and justified his violence.
But the ledger showed he had siphoned my entire inheritance into a trust for a child he had with his brother's wife.
When I tried to leave, his mistress framed me as a spy.
Aiden didn't ask for proof. He didn't hesitate.
He dragged me to a damp warehouse, hooded me, and beat me until my ribs cracked.
He left me to rot in the dark, ignoring the diamond bracelet on my wrist—the very one he had gifted me the day before as a symbol of his "ownership."
He thought he had broken me. He thought I would die in that basement, a silent collateral of his rage.
But he made a fatal mistake. He left me alive.
I escaped through a ventilation grate and ran straight to the one man Aiden feared most: his sworn enemy, Jensen Levy.
"Make me a weapon," I told him.
Two years later, I walked back into Aiden's office.
Not as his battered wife, but as the CEO of the corporation that had just bought his empire's debt.
He looked at me with horror, realizing the ghost he created had come back to burn him down.
"Hello, Aiden," I said, pressing a high-voltage tactical pen against his chest.
"You're trespassing."
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Chapter 3
Charlotte POV
I woke up on the bathroom floor.
The world was tilting on its axis, my head spinning, my skin burning hot.
I tried to stand, but my legs gave out like water.
I must have called Clara in my delirium.
I don't remember dialing, but suddenly she was there, her cool hands a stark contrast against my fevered forehead.
"Jesus, Lottie," she hissed, her voice tight with panic. "You're burning up."
She didn't take me to the hospital.
Hospitals meant paper trails. Records. And records meant Aiden would find me.
Instead, she drove me to a private clinic in the city-a sterile, nondescript building that dealt in cash and anonymity.
I lay in the pristine white bed, the cool slide of an IV dripping into my arm.
Clara sat in the chair, watching me with eyes dark with worry.
"You have to tell me what's going on," she said. "You look like you've been in a war."
"I have," I rasped.
And so, I purged it all.
I told her about the ledger. The missing money. Leo.
The phone call.
Clara didn't speak for a long time.
Then, with shaking hands, she reached into her bag and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, ignoring the sterile environment.
"That son of a bitch," she whispered, the smoke curling around her words. "I'll kill him. I'll hack his accounts and zero him out."
"No," I said, my voice weak but steady. "I just want to leave."
"Then we leave," she said fiercely. "I'll help you."
The fluids were doing their work; I needed to use the restroom.
Clara moved to help me, but I waved her off. "I can walk."
I shuffled down the hallway, clutching the IV pole for support.
The clinic was quiet.
Expensive.
This was where the city's elite came to bury their sins and stitch up their scandals.
I passed a VIP waiting area.
The heavy door was cracked open just an inch.
Then I heard a voice that made my blood freeze in my veins.
"He called him a bastard, Aiden."
It was Haven.
I stopped dead, pressing my back against the cold wall.
"Who?" Aiden's voice was a low growl. A dangerous, familiar sound.
"Some kid at school," Haven sobbed. "He said Leo doesn't have a dad. He pushed him."
"I'll handle it," Aiden said, the promise of violence heavy in his tone. "I'll tear the school apart if I have to."
"You can't," Haven wept. "We have to be secret. You said we had to be secret."
"Fuck the secret," Aiden snapped.
I peeked through the crack.
Aiden was kneeling in front of Haven.
He was holding her hands, rubbing them with a tenderness I hadn't seen in years.
He looked... desperate.
"I protect what's mine, Haven. You know that."
"Do you?" Haven looked up at him, tears streaming down her flawless face. "Because I'm pregnant again, Aiden."
The silence that followed was deafening.
I covered my mouth to stifle the gasp that threatened to escape.
Aiden stared at her, stunned.
"Pregnant?"
"I'll get rid of it," Haven whispered, trembling. "I know it's a mistake. I know you have... her."
"No," Aiden said immediately.
He stood up, turning away from her to punch the concrete wall.
Crack.
His knuckles split. Blood bloomed like a dark rose on the grey paint.
He didn't scream.
He just breathed heavily, his shoulders shaking with the force of his emotion.
With me, when the rage took him, he threw things at me.
With her, he hurt himself to keep from scaring her.
He turned back to her, his face resolute.
"We keep it," he said. "I'll fix this. I'll make you official. I'll give you status in the Family."
"What about Charlotte?" Haven asked, her voice small.
"Charlotte doesn't matter," Aiden said, waving a hand dismissively. "She's barren anyway. This... this is my blood."
Barren.
The word hung in the air, sharp and cold.
I wasn't barren.
I was on birth control pills he had replaced with placebos years ago, desperate to breed an heir. But I had been taking my own hidden stash, terrified of bringing a child into his violent orbit.
He thought I was broken.
But I wasn't broken. I was protecting the one thing he couldn't touch.
And now, he was replacing me.
I walked back to my room, my steps silent.
I didn't cry.
I was done crying.
Two days later, Clara drove me back to the estate.
The divorce papers felt heavy in my bag, a physical weight.
I walked into the living room.
Leo was there.
He was sitting on the floor, engrossed in a toy.
In his hands was a porcelain ballerina music box.
My mother's music box.
The one thing I had left of her. The one thing Aiden had promised no one would ever touch.
Leo was twisting the delicate dancer's head, his movements clumsy and cruel.
Snap.
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8.2
I hovered in the corner of the damp Runt Quarters, powerless as a ghost, watching my five-year-old daughter take her last breath.
She died of a fever that a simple medicine could have cured.
But my husband, Alpha Elroy, refused to pay for it. He was too busy dining with his mistress to waste resources on a "runt."
When he finally arrived, there were no tears.
He picked up my daughter’s small body like a bag of trash and tossed her into the incineration pit meant for criminals.
"Stop hiding, Annis!" he roared at the empty woods, thinking I was alive and watching. "Your trick didn't work. The runt is dead."
I screamed at him, clawing at his suit, but my hands passed right through him.
Days later, his mistress gave birth to a son. But the baby was born with a fractured soul, dying.
The doctor said only a bone marrow graft from the White Wolf bloodline could save him.
Elroy didn't hesitate. He looked toward the incineration pit.
"Retrieve the girl's body," he commanded his warriors. "Her bones will save the future Alpha."
He intended to butcher our daughter's corpse to save his illegitimate child.
Enraged, he hunted down the Rogue who had secretly stolen Emma's body before it could burn.
"Give me the body!" Elroy demanded. "And tell Annis to stop spoofing her credit cards in Europe and show her face!"
The Rogue looked at him with cold pity and threw a coroner's report at his chest.
"Annis isn't in Europe, Elroy."
"She has been rotting in a shallow grave for six months. Your mistress paid for the bullet."
8.6
Amara's life has always been predictable-until the shadows start watching her. Footsteps follow her on empty streets, strange chills scrape down her spine, and something ancient tracks her every move from the dark.
Everything changes the night a terrifying wolf-like creature lunges out of the darkness and leaves her fighting for her life. Just when all hope slips away, a mysterious man steps in-sleek, powerful, and gone before she can speak his name.
Haunted by the memory of his golden eyes, Amara begins to unravel a truth she never imagined. A creature in the night. A man in the shadows. A bond that defies logic. Her search for answers leads her to a hidden library and a forgotten article that exposes a world she was never meant to discover, one of magic, danger, and beings who walk between realms.
From the veil of the other world, Kael watches her. Her guardian. Her burden. The one fate bound to her long before she was born. And every day, the pull between them grows stronger... and harder for him to fight.
As enemies gather in both realms, Amara must face the darkness hunting her and the bond tying her to Kael. Because when shadow meets destiny, survival demands trust, courage,
and a heart willing to walk into the dark.
8.8
My husband thought I was just a docile wife, easily controlled. He didn't know I'd spent five years meticulously dismantling his life. Tonight, his world would finally crumble into dust.
For five years, I endured Jackson's entitled demands and his family's greed, silently funding their lavish life in our Beverly Hills mansion.
My illusion shattered finding his mistress Amber's lingerie in his suitcase. My attorney just severed all financial ties, making Jackson's arrogant demands hollow.
I tossed my diamond ring into the trash, summoning an industrial compactor. Jackson, his mother, and mistress watched in horror as their designer luggage, bought with my money, was crushed, turning their lavish trip into garbage.
A cold, dead smile marked my cathartic release from five years of betrayal. How could they be so blind to the woman they dismissed?
Stepping into an armored Maybach, I left them in chaos. My iPad confirmed Jackson's credit cards freezing. This wasn't just divorce; it was a calculated demolition, making their pampered lives very real.
9.0
Elena Hart survived the crash.
Her memories didn't.
When she wakes in a pristine suburban home with a diamond on her finger and a man gripping her hand like she might disappear, she's told a simple truth:
He's her husband.
They've been married for two years.
They're deeply in love.
Caleb knows everything about her-how she takes her coffee, the scar on her thigh, the way she hums when she's anxious. The photos lining the walls prove their life together. The neighbours confirm it. Her doctor insists memory loss after trauma is common.
So why does her body recoil when he kisses her?
And why, every night, does another man visit her in dreams-bleeding, desperate, whispering:
You promised you'd run.
The dreams aren't romantic. They're frantic. Urgent. As if time is running out.
Then Elena finds something she was never meant to see.
A locked drawer in Caleb's office.
A second wedding ring.
A newspaper clipping about her accident-dated three weeks before the crash she remembers.
The more she questions, the more Caleb tightens his grip. His patience becomes surveillance. His affection becomes control. Doors begin locking. Her phone disappears. The neighbours stop meeting her eyes.
And the dreams start happening while she's awake.
A reflection in a window that isn't hers.
Footsteps behind her when no one is there.
A voice that says, He changed it. He changed everything.
What if she wasn't supposed to survive that crash?
What if the accident wasn't an accident?
As fractured memories return in violent flashes-running through rain, screaming in a dark parking lot, a different man's blood on her hands-Elena is forced to confront a horrifying possibility:
She wasn't stolen.
She was rewritten.
And the man who calls himself her husband didn't just save her life.
He erased it.
Now she must decide who the real ghost is-
The man haunting her dreams...
Or the one sleeping beside her.
Because this time, if she remembers the truth...
One of them won't let her live to tell it.
8.5
After surviving years in the Alpha King's brutal prisons, I returned to my pack only to be stripped of my family home and exiled to a rotting cabin.
I accepted the humiliation in silence, until I found a dying baby girl abandoned in a trash-filled alley.
Taking her in awoke the terrifying, protective beast I had kept chained in my mind. The pack, fueled by rumors and a jealous woman's bruised ego, viewed us as abominations. They trespassed on my land to uncover my "dirty secrets," forcing me to build a massive stone fortress with my bare hands just to keep my daughter safe from their cruelty.
We lived in isolated peace for years, until the day I took her outside the walls to visit my parents' graves.
A convoy of royal Alphas arrived, and their Luna fell to her knees at my mother's cousin's grave, weeping and calling her "sister."
I didn't understand. Why was my forgotten family connected to the royals? And why did Cassian Vargan, the most powerful Alpha in the world, freeze in absolute shock the moment he realized who I was?
"You... are you Gideon Stone's son?"
The bloody past I had buried under a mountain of stone had finally found me.
I didn't answer him. I just pulled my daughter behind me and tightly gripped my knife, ready to slaughter a king if he took one more step.
7.5
I thought my best friend Mila and my lover Preston were my only salvation from Essex Langley, the ruthless billionaire who kept me caged in his estate.
I trusted them blindly when they planned my grand escape.
But it was all a cruel setup.
Mila deliberately leaked the plan to Essex's guards to win his favor, and Preston only wanted my family's shares to pay off his massive debts.
When we were caught in the rose garden, Preston shoved me toward the guards and ran for his life.
"You're insane if you think I actually loved a freak like you!"
I was dragged back into the manor, my ribs cracking under heavy boots.
I bled out on the freezing marble floor, staring into Essex’s unhinged, mad eyes as I took my last agonizing breath.
Until the moment I died, I couldn't accept it.
I had ruined my own life, adopting a hideous punk look with fake tattoos and piercings just to make Essex hate me, all for two people who saw me as nothing but a sacrificial lamb.
Why was my blind rebellion rewarded with such a brutal betrayal?
Opening my eyes again, the white-hot pain was gone.
I was back in the freezing bedroom on my eighteenth birthday, the very night Mila would come to orchestrate my ruin.
I looked at the rebellious, smudged stranger in the mirror.
This time, I calmly washed off the black makeup, took out my lip ring, and put on a pristine white dress.
If fighting the devil got me killed, then in this life, I would tame him and make them all pay.