Follow
Chapters
Share
Revenge of the Billionaire's Betrayed Bride  Novel Cover

Revenge of the Billionaire's Betrayed Bride

Dear Diary, The night before my wedding, I found my fiancé Silas having sex with my stepsister Bridget. On the bed we were supposed to share. Yeah. My bed. Humiliated. Shattered. Betrayed by blood and by vow. I should've walked away, but Bridget had other plans. One shove cracked my skull and sent me to an early death. Only, death wasn't the end. I woke up eight months earlier. Same liars. Same snakes. But this time, I'm not the girl who walks away-I'm the storm that burns everything down. Silas? He can rot. I won't be marrying him. No, I'll be marrying Adrian Richardson-billionaire, ruthless playboy, and Bridget's precious ex. He's rich, lethal, and so intoxicating it's dangerous. The kind of man who ruins you with silk sheets at night and a smirk in a three-piece suit by day. But here's the twist: I'm not the sweet little fool they remember. I won't be his toy. Luckily for me i do know how to fake a smile, kiss like a queen yet when I choose a target I make sure I destroy them whole. What started as revenge has turned into something hotter, darker, and far more dangerous. Because in this game of lust, power, and betrayal-everyone has something to lose. And me? I'll burn the whole damn world before I lose again. This isn't your average billionaire romance. It's fast, filthy, and addictive. The kind of story that keeps you awake at 3 a.m., whispering, just one more chapter.
Chapters
Share

Chapter 4

Fidelia woke with a violent gasp, her lungs burning as if she'd been drowning.

Her heart was hammering hard against her chest.

Her hands flew to her face feeling it and she found no oxygen mask. Then she pressed her hand on her chest feeling the heartbeat race.

She gulped air desperately, trying to calm herself down.

The prayer she'd screamed in those final moments when she was clinging to her life, pleading for one more chance. That prayer had been answered.

'I'm alive. I'm breathing. I can't believe it'

She grabbed her phone from the nightstand. The screen lit up and she saw the date

4th of November 2024.

WHAT!!!

The phone slipped from her trembling fingers.

November 2024. That was eight months before the wedding. Eight months before Bridget pulled her hair. Eight months before Silas stood over her hospital bed and pulled the mask from her face.

She had travelled back in time eight months before she died.

"No," she whispered. "No, no, no—"

She restarted her phone but the date didn't change. The familiar walls of her bedroom surrounded her—the curtains she'd replaced in January wasn't there, it was still the old ones.

She looked around the wall, the crack in the ceiling from the earthquake wasn't there, it hadn't happened yet.

She had really travelled back in time.

She pressed her palms against her eyes, but she could still see it: Silas's cold expression as he watched her suffocate. Bridget's satisfied smile. Alice's calculated cruelty.

'They killed me. My family killed me'

The thought should have broken her. Should have sent her spiraling.

Instead, something else crystallized in her chest—something sharp and cold.

'You all killed me once'

Fidelia slowly lowered her hands. Her reflection stared back from the darkened window across the room. She looked at herself in a deep frown and spoke:

"I won't let you do it again."

She stood on unsteady legs and walked to her desk. Opened her laptop then her fingers hovered over the keyboard for just a moment.

Then her fingers started moving around the keyboard together with her eyes on the screen fiercely with determination.

They thought she was weak, naive, easy to manipulate and easy to kill.

She was going to let them keep thinking that.

Fidelia Crawford had died once.

The woman they'd meet tomorrow at breakfast would be someone else entirely.

…………..

The next morning, Fidelia woke up in her bed.

Today was the day Silas proposes to her. The day she said yes like a fool.

She held her phone, steeling herself for the events that would unfold today.

Fidelia had a good memory, and she hardly forgot anything. Lost in her thoughts, a sound came from the door.

"Fidelia, breakfast is ready… Are you awake?"

After saying this, she didn't bother waiting for a reply before leaving. It sounded like a normal routine to her. Hearing her voice, the anger deep inside Fidelia started boiling.

That was her stepsister Bridget, the one that nearly killed her. No—she did kill her. It was something they had all planned and decided.

They all had a hand in her death: Bridget, Alice, and Silas. And Fidelia was coming for each one of them.

They were the only family she had, yet they made her miserable. What exactly had she done wrong right from when she was small? Fidelia really wanted to know why she was treated as an outcast.

Yes, she knew she was adopted, but was this the fate of all adopted children, or was hers just different? They always made sure she felt like shit.

Fidelia stayed lost in her thinking when her phone rang, and she saw the caller ID: Babe.

That was what she had used to save the person who had killed her. She couldn't believe she had fallen for him.

'Was I that miserable?' she asked herself, remembering his confession.

The phone rang again, and this time, she picked up.

"Hey, babe, hope you didn't forget lunch by 3:30 p.m."

Hearing the sound of his voice, Fidelia's stomach twisted. For a split second, her traitorous heart still ached for him—for the man she thought he was.

Then she remembered: the cold look in his eyes. The oxygen mask in his hands. The flatline.

Her jaw clenched.

'You're not real. You never were.'

She had deeply fallen in love with him.

She wanted to be with him. She really wanted to forgive him.

The past Fidelia wanted to tell herself she was still alive and that Silas was innocent—that it was the one from the future who had killed her.

Then she snapped.

"Am I stupid?" Fidelia said out loud, as the flashes of her death reflected in her head.

At that point, she saw him, looking at her coldly and expressionless.

Why did she struggle to breathe even before her death?

'This was all an act.'

Silas had looked at her coldly and expressionless while she struggled to breathe—moments before her death.

'This was all an act,' she said again, in denial.

Silence replied from the other side of the phone, confused by what she had said.

"I'll be there, don't worry," Fidelia said and dropped her phone.

Fidelia swore she was going to take her revenge on every single one of them.

'I'm not going to be weak-hearted again, and I will never be. I died, and I'm not planning on dying again till every single person has paid.'

And like that, she had made up her mind. Fidelia freshened up and grabbed her bag.

Before that, she opened her laptop and scrolled for a while.

When she was finally done, she had gotten the location she wanted.

She closed the laptop, kept it in her bag, and then left her room for the dining.

"What took you so long? Your food was getting cold," Alice said.

'Yeah Cold. Like your freaking heart.'

Fidelia forced her hands to unclench under the table.

"I think she took her time to dress this morning. Is there a plan I'm not aware of?" Bridget said, smiling.

'You have no idea.'

Fidelia smiled back, sweet and innocent. "How did you know? Are you spying on me?" Fidelia said jokingly.

At this point, Bridget laughed, and Alice followed.

"What are you both hiding from me? Come on, tell me."

"You shouldn't mind Bridget, Mom. I'm just going on a date with Silas this afternoon."

Fidelia smiled like she didn't know they had all planned it out.

The fake smiles and the sudden act of kindness were all so she and Silas could start dating, get married, and then wreck her.

"Oh, that's nice."

"Who knows, more surprises may appear today."

'You can't imagine the surprise I have planned,' she thought to herself.

"I can't wait," she said out loud.

She smiled in sudden joy, thinking she really had talent in acting.

She finished her meal and left the house.

All she really wanted was peace of mind, away from this pit of hell she called her family.

And she was going to destroy them, no doubt.

But her heart was still shaking.

She really wanted to control her emotions.

Immediately, she stepped out of the house, she felt her chest in pain and almost tripped.

The second she stepped outside, her legs gave out. She caught herself against the wall, gasping. Her chest felt like it was caving in.

Breathe. Just breathe.

She'd just sat across from the people who murdered her. Smiled at them. Laughed with them.

Her hands were shaking. She pressed them flat against the cold stone until they stilled.

Not yet. Fall apart later. Right now, you have work to do.

She had to hold the wall to stay on her feet.

She told herself she had been so disgusted seeing the people who had planned her death.

And she was pretending she didn't know.

Fidelia Crawford was the first daughter, second child of the Crawford family.

She had an elder brother who hardly greeted her, but she didn't care.

She preferred a secret and private life, an identity no one knew about her.

Fidelia took out her car keys and went to the car, driving to the salon.

She needed a better look for someone who was going to seduce someone important for her revenge plan to work.

"How do you want it?"

Fidelia was looking at herself when the hairstylist asked, "The usual cuts, right?" But Fidelia didn't want the curly look anymore.

"No, I don't want the curls anymore."

This got the hairstylist shocked. She had only asked as part of her usual routine, so she didn't expect the response from Fidelia.

Stretching into something sexy, Fidelia said she had long hair, and she felt she needed a confident, sexy look.

Fidelia opened her eyes and saw a beautiful, sexy lady in the mirror.

For the first time, she smiled as she looked at herself.

The hairstylist said even she was shocked by Fidelia's transformation from a nerd to someone hot.

But something didn't feel right—and it was the outfit.

"I need to change my outfit. I can't miss the epic date," Fidelia said.

Then she paid the stylist and told her to keep the change.

Fidelia checked her watch. 10:47 AM. Right on schedule.

She'd hacked Mia Thompson's calendar last night after her resolve formed. Salon appointment, 10:45. It was almost too easy.

She adjusted her new hair in the mirror and waited.

Then she stood up, she was about to leave when she heard her name.

"Fidelia."

Acting like she hadn't planned to meet up with the person in front of her, she smiled.

"Reporter Mia, wow, it's been a long time."

Fidelia started walking to hug her.

This was her classmate back in the day.

She was a reporter, but not an ordinary reporter—the one that targeted politicians, exposed their scandals, and revealed their bad deeds.

"You really look different than the last time I saw you," Mia said.

"Really? Well, things happened. Speaking of things, let's have a drink. We need to talk."

Mia was shocked and confused.

They were schoolmates, but they needed to talk?

The Fidelia everyone knew was the weak lady, but what no one knew was that she was actually a hacker.

She enjoyed hacking, but she always used it to help people—those who were scammed, she recovered their losses and all.

Now, she was going to use it for something quite dangerous in her revenge plan.

Before leaving her home, she had checked a potential ally, hacked into her database, and found Mia Thompson's schedule. So she made it look like a coincidence, meeting her there, before she had her hair done.

"Mia, how would you like a juicy story? About two months from now, be ready to publish it."

Fidelia started with a catchy intro, and it worked. Mia was feeling invested.

"Who am I talking about here?" Mia asked seriously.

"Someone you would love to destroy. The first son of the Carson Empire," Fidelia said.

"Silas?"

Mia was really shocked and caught off guard.

She had been targeting Silas for quite a while now, but everything she had done had always backfired or been covered up.

"Yes. Silas Carson."

Fidelia smiled dangerously. Her first ally had been won over.

You may also like

Pampered By The Ruthless Tycoon Guardian Novel Cover
8.4
Kenzie, the former leader of the Aegis Alliance, opened her eyes to find herself reincarnated as a freezing, abandoned infant in a wet cardboard box. She was rescued from the rain by Devin Ayers, a ruthless billionaire, and rushed to a private hospital, but a deadly threat was already waiting for her. The ER doctor, Desiree Dillon, approached her with a syringe. Through a sudden burst of telepathy, Kenzie read the doctor's dark thoughts. Desiree wasn't trying to cure her fever. She deliberately ignored the safe dosage, drawing a lethal amount of Diazepam to permanently silence the crying baby and disguise it as sudden infant death. "This will make it all go away," Desiree smiled gently, the needle glinting as it moved inches from Kenzie's arm. Trapped in a weak, paralyzed three-month-old body, Kenzie couldn't run, fight, or even speak. She could only watch the poison inch closer. How could she survive death only to be assassinated in a hospital bed by a corrupt doctor? She used to command armies. The sheer injustice and terror of dying completely helpless in this tiny body ignited a blinding rage inside her. Refusing to be a victim again, Kenzie pushed her newborn brain to its absolute limit and unleashed a desperate telepathic scream directly into the billionaire's mind. "Poison! She's trying to kill me!" Devin, who had been looking away, suddenly froze, his icy gray eyes locking onto the doctor's wrist.
Rejected by the Lycan King, Awakened as Luna Novel Cover
7.7
Rejected by the Lycan King, Awakened as Luna One Night. One Rejection. One Child Who Will Rewrite the Moon. She was never meant to survive the night she spent with the Lycan King. Drawn into the heart of Lycan territory under a fractured moon, she crossed paths with the most feared ruler of their world-a king forged in dominance, command, and ruthless control. One night of instinct and forbidden desire bound them together in a mate bond neither could deny. By dawn, he rejected her. Cold. Public. Absolute. But his cruelty hid a truth he could never speak-a prophecy written in blood and moonlight, one that promised her death if he claimed her. To protect her, he severed the bond with his own hands and cast her out, knowing she would hate him... and believing hatred was safer than love. Banished into the snow, wounded and alone, she did not beg. She did not break. As the cold claimed her strength, a single thought anchored her will: "I must survive." And beneath her numb fingertips, silver light flickered-unseen, unrecognized, awakening. She survives the exile only to discover the impossible. She carries the Lycan King's child. A child conceived under a fractured moon. A child whispered to be born not of love, but of dominance and defiance. While the world believes her broken, her body begins to change. Her power is not claws or combat-but something far rarer. Lunar healing flows through her veins, mending bodies and binding loyalty. Empathy awakens with it, allowing her to sense emotions, calm rage, and later... bend dominance itself. In exile, she becomes a quiet force-saving lives, gathering allies, and growing into a leader no one expected. When the Lycan King learns the truth, regret does not drive him. Obsession does. He does not ask for forgiveness. He demands possession-only to find the woman he discarded no longer kneels to kings. Every forced reunion becomes a war of wills, every near-touch burns with unresolved desire, and every step closer ignites the truth he has avoided: she is no longer his weakness. She is becoming the Luna that the moon itself has chosen. As enemies rise within the Lycan court and rival Alphas circle the child who could unmake kings, the Lycan King faces a reckoning no crown can shield him from. To claim her heart, he must surrender more than pride. He must sacrifice power. Reputation. His throne. And she must decide whether love-once broken-can ever be earned again... or whether her destiny lies in ruling without him. This is not a story of gentle mates or easy forgiveness. It is a dark, obsessive romance where survival becomes strength, power awakens through pain, and love is forged through sacrifice. She was rejected. She survived. And now, the moon answers only to her.
Rising From Exile: The Widow's Comeback Novel Cover
9.1
The heavy oak doors of the Crane estate splintered under the battering ram. Annetta was just putting her five-year-old daughter to sleep when the SWAT team stormed the nursery. They told her that her husband, Major Alek Crane, was killed in action overseas. But instead of a hero's funeral, he was branded a national traitor, and the feds were seizing every penny of their wealth. Lead investigator Issac Rocha dragged Alek's charred remains into the grand hall just to mock him. He stripped Annetta of her wedding band, confiscated her winter coat, and officially exiled her, her daughter, and her hostile mother-in-law to a freezing Appalachian death zone. In the federal holding cell, the extended family turned on Annetta, calling her a cheap commoner and leaving her to shiver on the concrete floor. They were dumped in an abandoned mining town with nothing but canvas jumpsuits to die in the snow. Annetta knew Alek was framed in a ruthless political hit. Issac Rocha wanted them to rot in the mud and freeze to death, completely forgotten by the world. "We are going to live, and we are going to burn Issac Rocha to the ground." But Issac made one fatal mistake. He didn't know the quiet, submissive daughter-in-law had spent the last three years secretly building a military-grade doomsday bunker right in the heart of that very mountain. Stepping past the freezing mud, Annetta initiated the biometric scan, and the massive steel blast doors slowly swung open.
Sex With My Neighbour Novel Cover
9.2
sex with my neighbour is a series of sex stories including: fuck with that call girl,sex with my chubby and his best friends( two men one woman)sex with my neighbors,(one man two women), and sex contract, please tune down the light and prepare the tissue and enjoy yourself. fuck with that call girl Since the first time I laid eyes on Arcadia, I had no doubt that she would become mine. She was just drop dead stunning. I am well aware that it is only a question of waiting for her to become mine. Because of my chiseled face, 8-pack abs, biceps, and tats, I've never seen a woman whose pantyhose didn't melt simply by looking at me. If she takes down her trousers, there is no way that Paul Caspar will let her live through this. Nothing in the world will rescue her.
The Blind Wife's Desperate Sacrifice Novel Cover
7.7
I am blind, but the darkness in my marriage was far worse than my lost vision. When my brother’s kidneys failed, I needed two hundred thousand dollars to save his life within forty-eight hours. But that same day, my wealthy husband’s mother and his childhood sweetheart, Kassidy, framed me for pushing the old woman down a flight of marble stairs. "Pack your trash and get out of my house." Chase didn't listen to my desperate pleas. He kicked me out without a single cent and demanded an immediate divorce. Driven to a dead end, I was tricked by Kassidy into signing a high-end escort contract and given a spiked drink. Drugged and terrified, I stumbled into Chase at a hotel. Seeing the transaction Kassidy had orchestrated, he believed I was actually selling my body for the surgery money. In a fit of possessive rage, he brutally took me, leaving me battered with a check on the nightstand the next morning as the ultimate insult. But the nightmare didn't end there. When I finally borrowed the money and rushed to the hospital, I found out Kassidy had already paid the bill anonymously, taking my brother's life hostage. She even found my torn clothes from that night, twisting the truth to convince Chase's family that I was a manipulative whore who deserved to die. I lost my dignity, my marriage, and my freedom to a web of perfectly orchestrated lies. Why did the man I loved always choose to believe their flawless acts over my real tears? Clutching his broken black onyx cufflink in my bleeding palm, my despair finally died, leaving only a cold, burning resolve.
The Broken Luna's Crimson Revenge Novel Cover
7.6
My baby daughter died in the cold hospital, and I agreed to donate her heart to save another pup. I brought her ashes home in a small wooden box, seeking comfort from my mate. But when I returned to the packhouse, I found a massive celebration. My Alpha mate wasn't away on patrol; he was throwing a grand Naming Ceremony for his sister's newborn. He didn't even know our daughter was dead. "Give Lyra the gift. Now." He impatiently demanded I hand over the box in my arms. When his sister's son tried to snatch it, I pushed him away to protect my baby's ashes. His sister immediately screamed, accusing me of trying to hurt her children out of jealousy. Without asking a single question, my mate grabbed my wrist, ready to smash the box to teach me a lesson. To save my daughter's remains, I had to drop to the floor, bare my neck in ultimate submission, and lie that it was just my late father's relics. He was disgusted by my tears. Later, when I tried to jump off the balcony to end my pain, he pulled me back—not out of love, but because my suicide would ruin his perfect party. He locked me in my room and ordered the maids to force me into a bright red dress for the evening feast. Looking at the red silk that mocked my bleeding heart, my despair finally died, replaced by a cold, venomous hatred. I tucked a white funeral flower into my hair and walked out the door. This time, I was going to turn their joyous celebration into a living hell.