
Phoenix Of Ruin: My Second Life Comes With A Better Man
Ashley gave Nicolas ten years of love and five years of loyalty as his perfect housewife, only to be repaid with betrayal, humiliation, and death at the hands of him and his mistress.
After being reborn, she vowed to make them pay.
She tore apart the mistress, kicked her useless husband aside, and returned as the heiress of a top-tier family.
Surrounded by billions, luxury, and a parade of elite bachelors, Ashley became the woman everyone wanted-including a cold, powerful tycoon.
When Nicolas came begging for forgiveness, she smiled coldly. "Fuck off! My man is worth a hundred of you."
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Chapter 5
Barely ten minutes passed before the stillness of the street was ripped apart by the deep, thunderous growl of incoming engines.
A convoy of five black Rolls-Royces glided toward the hospital, then eased to an elegant stop right in front of Ashley.
In flawless sync, every car door swung open at once. A pair of orderly lines formed as black-suited bodyguards stepped out and took their places on both sides, standing straight and solemn, their manner impeccably respectful. "Miss Dunn."
From the rear seat of the middle car, Dayna Gill emerged in sky-high heels and a runway-worthy red couture dress, dazzling and formidable as ever.
"Ash!"
Rushing over without a second thought, Dayna stopped short the instant she saw how alarmingly slender Ashley had grown, and her eyes flushed red on the spot.
"Nicolas is a blind, useless bastard. How could he put you through something like this? You walked away from your name and your family just to protect that fragile ego of his. You married him like you were no one special, hid your background and let him believe you were an orphan, and then spent three exhausting years wearing yourself out taking care of him. And what did you get in return? That piece of trash was actually willing to cut out your kidney for that scheming little bitch, and after all that, he still had the audacity to mock your divorce decision. He really ought to look at himself. Without the Dunn family propping him up all these years, what the hell is he, really?"
Ashley dropped her eyes, hiding the chill that flickered through them.
Dayna hadn't been wrong. Ashley had been Raymond Dunn's granddaughter—the rightful heiress of the most powerful family in Sleridge—raised in staggering wealth, wrapped in privilege, handed every advantage life could offer.
Yet three years earlier, defying her grandfather's iron will and the objections of her three brothers, she had stubbornly chosen Nicolas, casting aside her identity to live at his side as nothing more than an ordinary woman.
All that sacrifice had earned her in the end was cold, calculated betrayal.
"Dayna, I was a fool back then. That ends now."
A measured breath slipped past her lips as her gaze hardened, calm in a way that felt almost dangerous.
"And this isn't over," she added, each word deliberate and chilling. "Everything they owe me—I'll take it back myself, piece by piece."
Whatever softness had once defined Ashley was gone.
In its place stood a woman carved from something colder, sharper, far less forgiving.
Letting Nicolas and Caroline walk away unscathed had never even crossed her mind.
...
Perched halfway up a secluded hillside on the edge of Sleridge, the Dunn estate loomed in rigid silence, its severe architecture radiating quiet dominance.
As Ashley entered the living room, she found an elderly man already seated there, his keen gaze cutting through the space and his commanding presence impossible to ignore.
It was Raymond. At the sight of her, his fingers tightened around the head of his cane, a faint tremor betraying him before he steadied himself. A sharp, dismissive snort followed, his voice edged with frost. "So, you still remembered the way home. I was beginning to think you'd go die somewhere out there and never even let me see you one last time."
A sharp ache hit Ashley straight through the nose, and her eyes instantly burned. In her previous life, that had become the truth. She really had died without ever seeing him again.
Unable to hold back, she hurried to his side, her voice trembling as it caught in her throat. "Grandpa, I'm sorry," she said softly. "I was wrong. I should've listened to you from the beginning."
"Alright, alright. You're home now, aren't you? So why are you crying like this?"
His voice still sounded rough and impatient, but the affection in his eyes was impossible to miss.
No longer in the mood to lecture her, he lifted a hand and gently patted her hair. "Since you finally came to your senses and came back home, that's enough for me. Now tell me—what kind of gift do you want for coming back?"
Brushing the tears from her cheeks, Ashley steadied herself, took a quiet breath, and said, "Grandpa, I don't want any gift. I want to take over as CEO of Dunn Group, and I'm staying with you and my brothers."
For a brief second, Raymond simply stared at her. Then a rich, thunderous laugh burst from his chest, full of unmistakable satisfaction.
"Good. That's exactly what someone from the Dunn family should say. So you've finally made up your mind to take over Dunn Group. That seat was always yours, Ashley. Your brothers and I never stopped waiting for you to claim it."
A moment later, however, the warmth on his face dimmed. His voice lowered, and a trace of hesitation surfaced in his otherwise firm expression.
"But Ashley, this family has always had its rules. If you come back and take your place as the Dunn heir, then for your reputation and the family's interests, you'll have to accept an arranged marriage. Have you truly thought this through?"
Without a moment's pause, the former Ashley would have turned it down outright—her devotion to Nicolas had once made the very idea of an arranged marriage unbearable.
Yet after enduring that life once already, clarity had settled in, sharp and unshakable.
"I've already considered it," Ashley replied, her tone steady, not a flicker of doubt in her eyes. "Right now, the only thing that matters to me is keeping the Dunn Group strong and secure. As for who I'm matched with… it makes no difference to me."
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7.3
I found out my husband of three years had cheated on me and his mistress is the one who told me-because he didn't have the balls to do it himself.
I move out and get a new apartment, a job as a bartender, and try to move on with a broken heart. I wonder where it all went wrong, if I hadn't been enough for him, if I'd been stupid for marrying him in the first place.
I'm at work one night when he walks inside-the most beautiful man I've ever seen. He sits at the bar and a forest fire burns between us. I was depressed the moment before he entered, but the second I look at his blue eyes, I forget the dumpster fire that my life has become. I invite him back to my place and it's the most passionate night of my life. I expect to never see him again.
I just want him as an anti-depressant-but he wants me all to himself. I just got my heart ripped out of my chest so I want something easy and no-strings-attached, but he wants all the strings because he's hooked.
I don't get much of a say in the matter, and that's not surprising when I learn why-because he's the Butcher. The crime lord of all crime lords, the boss that overshadows all of Paris, that makes everyone abide by his rules-or pay.
And now I'm his.

7.5
I spent three weeks scrubbing carbonized grease off woks at the Jade Garden, hiding my elite tactical training behind raw knuckles and a practiced, submissive stutter. My mission was the only thing keeping me sane: finding my sister, Elena, who vanished into thin air after her phone last pinged near the city’s Restricted Sector.
The breakthrough came when my boss, a bully named Uncle Wong, forced me to take a delivery to 101 Blackwood Drive—a high-security fortress where the drivers whispered that people went in and never came back right. It was a geographic match for Elena's last known location, but as I rode my battered scooter toward the massive steel gates, I realized I wasn't just investigating a lead; I was walking into a spider's web.
The mansion was a monolith of cold concrete and military-grade surveillance, owned by Hugh Bradford, a billionaire who controlled the city’s elite like puppets. During my delivery, the magnetic locks hissed shut, the lights died, and I was plunged into absolute darkness with a predator who didn't want my money. Bradford pinned me against a stainless steel counter and did something unthinkable: he sank his teeth into my shoulder, using the rhythm of my frantic pulse to anchor his own fractured mind.
I escaped with a bruised neck and a thousand-dollar "tip," feeling the crushing weight of his violation and the terrifying realization that my "clumsy immigrant" act hadn't fooled him for a second. I didn't understand why a man of his power would treat a delivery girl like a biological drug, or what he had done to the other girls who had vanished behind those black glass walls.
My heart hammered against my ribs as I realized I was being hunted by a man who could buy and sell my life a thousand times over.
"You're terrified," he had whispered in the dark, and for the first time in years, I wasn't faking it.
Back in my apartment, I found a note tucked inside the cash that confirmed my worst fears:
"For the inconvenience. See you Tuesday."
He thinks he’s found a new toy to play with, but he just gave me the one thing I needed to find my sister—an invitation to go back inside and finish what I started.

8.7
Lina Carter was just a waitress trying to make ends meet. On the other hand, Alexander Knight was a billionaire who would do anything to safeguard his empire. When he proposes a deal for her to be his fake girlfriend, it seems straightforward, he act like she loves him, stick to the rules, and walk away with a nice payday. No feelings involved. No strings attached. No room for error.
But as they share fake kisses, those moments turn into lingering glances. What starts as cold, business-like orders shifts into a quiet sense of protection. Suddenly, the line between pretense and reality begins to blur.
Then, out of nowhere, his ex-fiancée reappears-gorgeous, ruthless, and hell-bent on ruining Lina's life. When the truth about their arrangement comes to light, Lina finds herself publicly humiliated, tossed aside as if she never mattered at all. She walks away with her pride shattered, but her heart still whole.
Now, the man who once paid her to pretend is realizing he wants her for real. But some betrayals cut too deep... and some love stories start with a lie that's just too painful to forgive. She was brought in to act. He ended up falling for her for real.

8.3
For three years, I was the perfect, invisible wife to Bart Brown. On our third anniversary, I stood in the kitchen for four hours, preparing his favorite meal with imported truffles, only to receive a cold text command.
"Crysta fainted again. Get to the hospital. Now."
My rare Rh-negative blood was the only thing the Brown family valued. Bart didn't want a wife; he wanted a walking blood bank for his "sick" best friend, Crysta. While I was fainting from chronic anemia, Crysta was smirking in her hospital bed, clutching Bart's hand and mocking my "peasant" lifestyle.
Even his mother treated me like a servant, demanding I vacuum the floors after I'd already offered my veins for the hundredth time. When I finally reached my breaking point and signed the divorce papers, they didn't let me go quietly. They filed a false police report, accusing me of stealing a multi-million dollar diamond necklace just to watch me crawl.
I didn't understand how a family could be so heartless. I had cooked their meals, cleaned their house, and literally bled for them, yet they were determined to ruin my life the moment I stopped being useful. Did they really think I was a nobody with nowhere to go?
Standing outside the hospital with a bruised wrist and nothing to my name, I didn't cry. I simply took off my cheap wedding ring and dialed a secure line I hadn't touched since the day I married him.
"It's me, Dad," I whispered as a fleet of black Maybachs rounded the corner. "The extraction is a go. I'm coming home."

9.5
I was the heiress to a real estate empire, celebrating my engagement to Douglas at our Manhattan penthouse.
But when I stepped into the master bedroom, I caught him sleeping with my best friend, Krystle.
Before I could even react, Douglas forced me to sign away my family's entire trust fund.
He held up a tablet and forced me to watch a live feed of my parents being burned alive in our Hamptons estate.
"The fire hasn't reached the main house yet, sign it and I'll call them off," he lied.
As soon as the ink dried, he beat me to the ground and locked me in the soundproof study.
He poured twenty-three-year-old whiskey on the carpet and dropped a lit cigar.
"You could have walked away with nothing, but alive," he sneered.
He left me to burn to death while he and Krystle went back to our engagement party to drink champagne.
As the flames melted my skin and my bones shattered against the bulletproof glass, I couldn't understand it.
How could the man who promised me forever brutally exterminate my entire family just for money?
But I didn't die in that fire.
Three years later, with a reconstructed face and a new identity as the mysterious global designer Alice Moreau, I returned to New York.
Watching Douglas and Krystle flaunt the wealth they stole from my family's ashes, I smiled behind my black veil.
It was time to make them pay with everything they had.

7.1
I lay paralyzed on stiff white sheets, a prisoner in my own skin, listening to the rain lash against the window like nails on a coffin. My father, Elmore Franco, didn't even look at my face as he checked his clipboard. He just listened to the steady, monotonous beep of the heart monitor-the only thing proving I was still alive.
Without a hint of remorse, he pulled a pen from his pocket and signed the Do Not Resuscitate order. My stepmother, Ophelia, stepped out from behind him, wearing my favorite pearl necklace and smelling of cloying perfume. She leaned close to my ear to whisper the truth that turned my blood to ice.
"It was the tea, darling. Just like your mother. A slow, tasteless poison."
She chuckled as she revealed that my fiancé, Bryce, had a two-year-old son with my sister, Daniela. My inheritance had been funding their secret life for years, and now that the money was secure, I was an inconvenience they were finally scrubbing away. As my father yanked the power cord from the wall, the beeping died, and the darkness swallowed me whole.
I was being murdered by my own flesh and blood, used as a bank account until I was no longer needed. I died in that sterile room, drowning in the realization that every person I ever loved was a monster who had been waiting for me to take my last breath.
Then, I gasped. I woke up in a luxury hotel suite surrounded by silk sheets, five years in the past-the very morning of my wedding. Next to me lay Basile Delgado, the "Wolf of Wall Street" and my family's most dangerous enemy. In my first life, I ran from this room in a panic and lost everything. This time, I looked at the man who would eventually destroy my father's empire and decided to join him.
"I'm not leaving, Basile. Marry me. Right now. Today."