Not Just An Incubator: The Ex-Wife's Cold Revenge
Ten minutes. That was how close I was to handing my fiancé the keys to a three-hundred-million-dollar empire built on my code.
But when I walked into the office, his mistress was sitting in my chair, spinning the pen I bought him for our anniversary.
Caleb didn't even look up. He told me the investors wanted stability, not a pregnant woman. He called our unborn child a "liability" and ordered security to escort me out of the building I paid for.
I went home to pack, only to find a burner phone hidden in the closet. The texts were brutal. He called me an "incubator." He said once the deal was signed, he’d take the baby and dump the "nerd."
When he caught me with the phone, he didn't apologize. He dragged me by my hair and threw me into the soundproof panic room to keep me quiet until the deal closed.
"Caleb, please! I'm bleeding!"
I pounded on the steel door until my hands were raw. But he just locked it and went to eat pizza with his mistress.
Alone in the dark, on the freezing concrete, I felt the life inside me slip away. He hadn't just stolen my company; he had killed my child.
He thought I was broken. He thought I was just "the help." But he forgot one thing: I built the security system he was trying to sell.
Three days later, I rolled my wheelchair into his victory press conference, flanked by his biggest rival.
"Do you trust your new code, Caleb?"
"Because I wrote the backdoor. And I just opened it."
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Chapter 3
Brooke Myers POV
Easton Jensen didn't sit behind a desk. He stood in the center of the command room, a dark silhouette against a wall of glowing monitors.
He was taller than Caleb. Broader, too. He wore a black suit that cost more than my car, and he wore it with the casual indifference of a man who didn't just pay the tailor-he owned him.
He turned when I entered.
His eyes were dark, intelligent, and completely devoid of pity.
"You look like hell, Brooke," he said.
"Thank you," I replied.
I didn't sit down. I couldn't. If I lowered myself now, gravity might claim me for good.
"The Roy Family is holding a press conference on Friday," Easton said, his voice a low rumble. "They're announcing the Apex partnership."
"They're announcing a fraud."
I met his gaze, refusing to blink.
"The version of Apex they have is buggy. It's a hollow shell. It has a backdoor I installed for maintenance. If they run live transactions through it without the patch, the Feds will be able to trace every dollar within a week."
Easton raised a single, skeptical eyebrow. "And you have the patch?"
"I am the patch."
"Why didn't you tell Caleb?"
"I was going to," I said, the bitterness coating my tongue. "Before he replaced me with a stripper."
Easton walked over to a sidebar, the ice clinking softly as he poured a glass of water. He walked back and handed it to me.
"Sit down," he ordered.
It wasn't a suggestion. It was a command issued by a general.
I sat on the edge of a leather sofa. The water was cold, a shock to my system that felt dangerously good against my parched throat.
"I'm not asking for charity, Easton," I said, setting the glass down.
"I want a contract. Consigliere of Technology. Five percent of all laundered assets routed through my system."
Easton leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. The fabric of his suit strained slightly against the muscle beneath.
"That's a steep price for a defector."
"I'm not a defector," I countered. "I'm a free agent. And I come with the keys to the Roy kingdom."
"Caleb will come for you," Easton warned. "He's weak, but he's proud. He won't let you walk away with his secrets."
"Let him come."
Easton studied me for a long moment. It felt like he was dismantling me, taking me apart layer by layer to inspect the structural integrity.
His gaze dropped to my midsection, then back to my eyes.
"You're pregnant," he said.
It wasn't a question.
My hand twitched, an instinct to protect, but I forced it to remain still.
"Yes."
"Does Caleb know?"
"He knows," I said, my voice turning brittle. "He called it a liability."
Easton's jaw tightened. A muscle jumped in his cheek, a singular tick of violence.
"A man who discards his own blood is not a man," Easton said quietly. "He is meat."
He walked to his desk and pressed a button on the intercom.
"Bring the contract."
He looked back at me, his expression unreadable.
"You're hired," he said. "But understand this, Brooke. Once you sign with Nexus, you belong to me. My enemies are your enemies. My war is your war."
"I don't have a war anymore," I said. "I just have a target."
"Good."
The doors opened, and a lawyer walked in, extending a tablet.
I signed the digital document without reading the fine print. I didn't care about the non-competes or the NDAs. I only cared about the weapon it placed in my hand.
"You have twenty-four hours to migrate the system," Easton said.
"I can do it in twelve."
"Go home," Easton said. "Pack your things. My men will pick you up in two hours to move you to a safe house."
"I need to go to the Penthouse first," I said, standing up. "My servers are there. The physical backups. I can't migrate the core without the hard drives."
"It's dangerous."
"I have the codes," I insisted. "Caleb won't be there. He's at the compound celebrating with Krystal."
Easton hesitated. I could see the calculation running behind his eyes, weighing the asset against the risk.
"Take two of my men," he said.
"No. If I show up with Nexus soldiers, it triggers a street war tonight. I need to go in quietly."
Easton didn't like it. The tension in the room spiked.
"One hour," he said, his voice dropping an octave. "If you're not out in one hour, I'm coming in. And I won't be knocking."
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8.9
Seventeen-year-old Nina Storm has spent her life running from her tragic past, her dormant wolf, and the dreams of a mysterious man she can't escape.
Raised by her protective father after her mother's death, she has never stayed in one place long enough to call it home. But everything changed when they return to their home, the Moonlight Pack.
Nina discovers that her mate is Zane, the pack's Alpha... a bond that defies werewolf laws and the pack's expectations. Their undeniable attraction is dangerous, and their bond threatens to disrupt the fragile balance of power within the pack.
When an attack on the pack shatters her world, Nina loses everything, including her life. But death isn't the end.
Reborn, her dormant wolf awakens giving her a newfound strength and powers, Nina must navigate a world of betrayal, love, and vengeance as she unravels the truth about her family, her mate bond, and the danger threatening to destroy everything she holds dear.
8.9
Aubree Hamilton was the top-tier executive assistant to Wall Street's most ruthless titan, Beck Franco. A month ago, she made a catastrophic mistake and spent the night in his bed.
Thinking she had erased the mistake with a morning-after pill, she panicked upon his return and lied about being engaged to push him away.
But Beck, a man who despised disloyalty above all else, immediately suspended her and ordered her escorted out of the building. Her nightmare only escalated when her toxic ex-boyfriend attacked her on the street, tearing her purse open and exposing the empty morning-after pill box to the public—and to Beck, who was watching from his penthouse. After having his security rescue her, Beck trapped her in his car, ruthlessly tearing apart her fake engagement. Later in her apartment, the suffocating tension between them almost ignited into a kiss, but a violent wave of nausea suddenly hit Aubree.
She shoved him away with all her strength and violently threw up in the bathroom.
Beck took it as the ultimate physical disgust. He walked out, deeply humiliated and dangerously obsessed, unleashing his resources to investigate her every move.
Left alone and trembling, Aubree finally checked the crushed white box. The pill she took had expired a month ago.
Staring at the two bright pink lines on the pregnancy test, she made a desperate vow: Beck Franco could never know she was carrying his child, and she had to disappear before he found out.
8.9
PROFESSOR SIN
8.9
"Spread your legs and use your hands, my little dove," his voice was rough, a dark whisper that curled into my skin. My body trembled, traitorous, yet I obeyed..because I never resisted him. I couldn't. Even when his words bound me tighter than any rope, even when shame burned my cheeks, my fingers still moved at his command.
I'm Amara Blake. At home, I'm nothing.
The unwanted daughter.
The mistake forced to live in her sister's shadow. A living Donor. A spare part to my sister. Scorned by my mother, hated by my father, reminded daily that my only worth is keeping myself "pure" for Nina's sake.
But with him... purity doesn't exist.
Professor Black doesn't see me as a burden.
He sees me as temptation.
A secret waiting to be ruined.
Every time I walk into his office, I feel the weight of his gaze...hungry, dangerous, claiming. I shouldn't want him. I shouldn't crave the way his voice curls against my skin like a promise of sin.
But I do.
And when his hands finally touch me, I realize one truth...I'm no angel.
I was made to burn. MY PROFESSOR SIN
9.7
Rogues broke into the Pack House, holding a silver knife to my throat while another captive held Brooke, the so-called "Seer."
The Rogue leader gave my Alpha, Harrison, three seconds to choose who lived.
Without hesitation, he commanded, "Save Brooke."
I was gutted with a silver blade and left to bleed out on the carpet while he cradled her.
Miraculously, I survived, only to find he had already replaced me. He claimed Brooke was pregnant with his heir—something he said I, a "defective" Omega who couldn't shift, could never give him.
To protect his reputation and clear the way for his new Luna, he didn't just exile me. He drugged me with Wolfsbane and threw me onto a fishing trawler rigged with explosives.
As the timer ticked down in the dark cargo hold, I finally understood the depth of his cruelty.
Years ago, when I miscarried our actual child alone on the bathroom floor, begging for him through the mind-link, he hadn't just ignored me—he had blocked me to pick up his mistress.
The boat exploded, turning the ocean into fire. Harrison stood on the cliff, watching me burn, satisfied that his problem was gone.
But he forgot that my bloodline doesn't perish in fire.
Six months later, I walked back into the Council Hall.
I wasn't the weak Omega anymore. I was the legendary White Wolf.
And on my arm was the Lycan King—the one man Harrison feared most.
"Hello, Harrison," I smiled.
"I believe you're sitting in my seat."
8.0
Twenty-one-year-old Hazel has always lived in a safe, comfortable bubble, meticulously guarded by her fiercely protective older brother. Her life is predictable, quiet, and perfectly ordinary. Until he steps into it.
Silas is twenty-four, dangerously captivating, and her brother's best friend. He brings with him an aura of dark secrets, ink-stained skin, and a predatory gaze that strips away all her carefully built defenses. He is everything she has been taught to avoid, yet living under the same roof makes him impossible to escape.
What starts as a temporary living arrangement quickly spirals into a suffocating web of stolen glances, unspoken desires, and a dangerous obsession. Silas isn't just looking for a place to crash; he's looking at her. And once he pins her in his sights, the thorns of their forbidden attraction will bind them together in ways that could destroy them both.
In a house where walls have ears and her brother is always watching, giving in to the madness is a risk. But Silas is a temptation she might not survive.
7.2
Five years ago, I was sentenced to prison for a car accident that left Blaire Lowe fighting for her life in the ICU.
The day I was finally released, I thought the nightmare was over, but it had only just begun.
Carson Long, the man who once loved me, was waiting. He didn't see a victim of a tragic accident; he saw a monster who deserved to rot.
He made sure I knew that freedom was a lie. He turned my life into a living hell, dragging me through the halls of the hospital to witness the ruin I had caused, forcing me to watch as those who once knew me spat on my name and treated me like filth.
When he demanded I pay for my sins by destroying my own face, I didn't hesitate. I carved a jagged scar into my cheek just to satisfy his cold, relentless hatred, hoping it would finally be enough to earn his mercy.
But he wasn't satisfied. He dragged me to his estate, stripped me of my dignity, and turned me into the house's lowest servant, forcing me to scrub cobblestones until my knees bled and my body gave out.
Why did he hate me so much that he wanted me to suffer every second of my existence? Why was he so determined to see my soul crushed into dust, even when I had nothing left to give?
I looked at the trash I was forced to eat, and in that moment, I realized that as long as Carson held the leash, I would never be free.
I picked up a piece of moldy bread, my eyes hollow, and decided that if living meant becoming his dog, I would find a way to end the game on my own terms.