Stop Begging! I'm Now A Star Beyond Your Reach
Three years of marriage were all Olivia needed to learn that love alone could not hold Theo.
She gave him everything, only to find another woman's photo in his phone after a night of passion.
When she confronted him, he coldly told her Jennifer was disabled and could never compete with her. That answer ended the marriage.
After the divorce, Olivia rose like a storm-becoming a dazzling musician, the world's leading accordionist, and a woman whose talents amazed everyone.
Too late, Theo saw her worth and begged with reddened eyes, "Babe, please come back to me, will you?"
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Chapter 1
"I can't... Theo, I really can't keep going."
A soft amber glow spread across the room, wrapping it in a quiet, intimate warmth. The bed moved in a slow, steady sway.
With her eyes barely open, Olivia Harvey—once Olivia Brown—clung to Theo Harvey's neck. Heat lingered across her face, and beneath Theo's strong, well-built form, she felt unsteady, as if she were drifting without direction.
Her head tilted back, her body still caught in the fading pull of what they had just shared.
As he looked down at her, something gentler passed through Theo's eyes. He lowered himself, lifting her chin in his hand before pressing his lips to hers again, drawing out soft protests and broken pleas. "Please... no more..."
Summoning what strength she had left, Olivia pushed against him, finally stopping him.
Near her ear, Theo's breath brushed her skin as he bit lightly, his voice low and rough. "Fine. I'll stop tonight. But tomorrow, you're making up for it... twice."
Pulling away, he rose from the bed, his broad shoulders and lean frame on full display. "I'll take a shower."
A small nod came from Olivia, her face still warm.
For almost a decade, she had carried quiet feelings for him.
Even now, as his wife, that pull hadn't faded. If anything, it held her tighter.
The sound of running water soon filled the space, and as it did, Olivia slowly eased out of that lingering haze, a quiet warmth settling in her chest.
Right then, the phone beside her vibrated.
It was Theo's.
Her eyes shifted toward the screen.
A message popped up from Jennifer Palmer. "Theo, what should I wear for the concert?"
Driven by curiosity, Olivia opened it. In the first photo, Jennifer angled the shot to highlight her collarbones, with the neckline of a white dress dipping just enough to show a hint of her breasts. The outfit gave off an innocent look, yet it carried a quiet allure.
Another swipe brought up the next image. This time, Jennifer wore a gray pleated skirt and kept the same soft expression, but the way she sat exposed part of her thigh. The pose felt deliberate, more suggestive than it first appeared.
A moment ago, Olivia had felt light and content, but that feeling vanished in an instant. Her fingers tightened against the sheets without her noticing.
Memory pulled her back to when Theo first introduced Jennifer.
Back then, he said she saved his life. She had dragged him out of a fire, and that act had cost her dearly, leaving her unable to walk and bound to a wheelchair.
Olivia understood what that debt meant to Theo.
Still, she was Theo's wife now. Seeing those kinds of photos sent to her husband stirred something sharp in her chest.
The bathroom door opened, and Theo stepped out. His eyes landed on Olivia lying on her side, her posture seductive.
Without hesitation, he let the robe fall, lifted the blanket, and moved closer to her.
A crease formed between Olivia's brows as she pressed her lips together, but Theo didn't slow down. Instead, he crushed his mouth against hers, forcing her to respond with a force that felt more harsh than tender.
The unease already sitting in her chest flared into something sharper, a mix of disbelief and anger that she couldn't push aside.
Her gaze lifted to his face, and the images from earlier flooded back into her thoughts. A tear slipped quietly from the corner of her eye.
He didn't notice. Desire took over as he continued, his voice slipping between breaths. "There's something I need to talk to you about. Jennifer's concert is next week. She hasn't been in good condition, so I want you to take her place behind the scenes and perform for her."
At once, Olivia's eyes snapped wide. She pushed him away without hesitation, cutting him off completely.
Annoyance crossed his face as he frowned. "What's gotten into you?"
Olivia's hands curled tightly as she shook her head. "Theo, I can agree to other things, but not this. My audience recognizes my style. If someone figures it out, everything I've built will fall apart."
Never once had she turned him down before. Yet this time, there was no way she could give in.
"Olivia," he muttered, his voice softening for a brief moment before turning firm, "Jennifer saved me. She lost her mobility because of that. This is something I owe her, and you need to help me with it. Just take it as practice in performing in a different setting. It's nothing serious. And besides, is that little interest of yours really worth calling a career? You'd be better off staying home and living as Mrs. Harvey."
Her teeth sank into her lower lip as everything piled up at once. The images, his demand, the way he spoke—it all pressed down on her. No matter how much she cared for him, irritation rose and burned. Just thinking about those photos made her chest ache.
"Theo, tell me this honestly. Does Jennifer matter more to you than I do? Why are you ready to throw away everything I've worked for just so she can get what she wants?" she asked, her voice breaking before hardening.
Emotion spilled over. She reached beneath the pillow, grabbed his phone, and flung it toward him. "And explain why she's sending you pictures like that!"
Annoyance flickered across Theo's face. "Olivia, she couldn't decide what to wear and wanted my opinion. That's it. Why are you reacting like this? We're just friends. It's a simple favor, yet you're turning it into something huge."
A quiet breath left Olivia as she turned away, the cold feeling settling deeper inside.
"Theo... I can't agree to this." Her eyes were red, but she didn't look away. "If I said I wanted a divorce... would you still make me help her?"
Theo's gaze sharpened, irritation clear. "So now you're using divorce to pressure me? Listen carefully. Nothing comes before Jennifer's dream."
That answer settled everything. In that instant, Olivia understood she would never come first.
Holding onto a marriage like this no longer made sense.
Her eyes closed as her chest tightened. After a long silence, her voice came out low. "Then... we should end this marriage."
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7.6
I was the fiancée of the Chicago Outfit’s heir, a bond sealed by blood and eighteen years of history.
But when his mistress pushed me into the freezing pool at our engagement gala, Jax didn’t swim toward me.
He swam past me.
He scooped up the girl who pushed me, cradling her like fragile glass, while I struggled against the weight of my gown in the murky water.
When I finally dragged myself out, shivering and humiliated before the entire underworld, Jax didn’t offer a hand. He offered a scowl.
"You’re making a scene, Eliana. Go home."
Later, when that same mistress shoved me down the stairs, shattering my knee and my dance career, Jax stepped over my broken body to comfort her.
I overheard him telling his friends, "I’m just breaking her spirit. She needs to learn she’s property, not a partner. Once she’s desperate enough, she’ll be the perfect obedient wife."
He thought I was a dog that would always return to its master. He thought he could starve me of affection until I begged for scraps.
He was wrong.
While he was busy playing protector to his mistress, I wasn't crying in my room.
I was packing his ring into a cardboard box.
I cancelled my transfer to UCLA and enrolled at NYU instead.
By the time Jax realized his "property" was missing, I was already in New York, standing next to a man who looked at me like a queen, not a possession.
7.2
Elena stood flawless in her bridal gown. Five years of molding herself for Dante Moretti and a powerful mafia treaty culminated now. This dress was her only solace.
Then her phone buzzed. A text from Dante: "Wedding canceled." Two cold words, no explanation. Her world shattered, heart a sledgehammer blow.
Dante answered her call from a hospital, commanding her to leave, no apology. Her father and 500 mafia guests outside whispered of "humiliation." Marco then cleared Dante's things, revealing he was moving his long-comatose 'white swan,' Sofia, into their intended home. Her father's ultimatum: win Dante back in thirty days, or be married to a sadistic Russian boss.
Discarded, betrayed, and trapped, Elena felt absolute humiliation. She despised five years wasted, facing a fate worse than death. But as tears blurred her vision, a dangerous thought ignited: Dante wasn't the only Moretti. She wouldn't cry or beg. Instead, she'd choose the most terrifying Moretti of all, and make Dante pay for his arrogance.
9.7
For three years, I was the dutiful wife of billionaire Ervin Valdez.
On our third wedding anniversary, he came home smelling of his mistress's perfume, pinned me down, and brutally mocked me.
His mistress, Sylvia, had even sent me a fake ultrasound report to force me out of the picture.
In Ervin's eyes, I was just a vicious, calculating liar who used a pregnancy to trap him into marriage.
He didn't care that I had actually lost that baby, nor did he know the trauma of my gambling father selling me to a dark club where I was assaulted by a stranger.
When I finally handed him the signed divorce papers, giving up all assets, and left the penthouse with nothing but an old suitcase, he just sneered.
"She is playing a game of hard to get. She won't last three days before she comes crying back."
He froze all my bank accounts, let his mistress humiliate me in public, and waited coldly for me to starve and beg.
He thought my entire existence relied on his wealth, completely confident that I would inevitably surrender to his control.
But he was wrong.
I calmly opened my old laptop, bypassed the complex encryptions, and looked at the dozens of unread emails from top-tier global brands begging for my return.
I resurrected my hidden identity as the legendary jewelry designer "R," and walked straight into the top design firm in Manhattan.
"It is time to find myself again."
9.7
Blurb: She signed the divorce papers. He never signed away his obsession.
Veronica Stanford was the perfect wife-devoted, patient, and hopelessly in love. But when her billionaire husband, Jason Harper, trades her in for her treacherous best friend, Rhea, Veronica's world shatters. Broken and betrayed, she drowns her sorrows in a bar, only to be saved by a dangerously alluring stranger with emerald-green eyes and a lethal reputation: Monte "Four" Zagcanni, the ruthless heir to a mafia empire.
Four is everything Jason isn't-dark, dangerous, and devastatingly protective. When Veronica discovers she's pregnant with Jason's child, she strikes a deal with Four: a fake marriage to shield her from scandal. But what starts as a cold arrangement ignites into a passion neither can resist.
Jason, realizing his mistake too late, wants Veronica back-along with the son he never knew existed. But Four isn't a man who surrenders what's his. And Veronica? She's done being the meek wife.
Betrayal runs deep. Revenge burns hotter.
As secrets unravel-her father's bloody past, Rhea's twisted obsession, and Jason's deadly lies-Veronica must decide: trust the man who destroyed her once, or surrender to the devil who might destroy her forever.
One wants her back. The other wants her forever.
8.6
The Maybach glided through rain, Dante's cold cedar cologne a familiar comfort. Seven years, my life revolved around him, my fingers on his suit cuff, a silent promise. But tonight, our normal shattered with a single phone call.
He answered, speaking rapid Italian – a language he thought I didn't understand. Every word: a death knell. Confirming his engagement to Sofia Moretti, dismissing me as a 'consolation prize.'
Seven years of loyalty vanished. His loving mask back, he left for his fiancée. I stumbled into freezing rain, recalling my foster past. My numb fingers dialed his mother, Isabella, demanding fifty million for my silence. Her insults didn't sting.
The true gut punch: Sofia's Instagram, a prenup on Dante's desk, proudly showing *my* watch, captioned: 'Fourteen days left.' This wasn't their celebration; it was my death sentence.
I wouldn't stay another day in this gilded cage. My old duffel bag, packed, waited. The Australia brochure, a childhood dream, in my pocket. This time, I would live for myself, and they would all pay.
9.5
For twenty years, Krista lived as the perfect daughter of the wealthy Cain family.
But a single DNA report shattered her entire world. Her adoptive parents coldly declared she was just a mistake and immediately replaced her with the true bloodline.
Desperate, she ran through the freezing rain to find her fiancé, only to hear him laughing with his friends.
"Marry a fake? I don't collect the Cain family's second-hand trash."
She slapped him, threw her diamond ring at his chest, and stumbled into a jazz lounge to drown her pain.
Drunk and heartbroken, she accidentally crashed into a stranger, clinging to him like a lifeline, which ended in a wild night in a luxury penthouse.
When she woke up, she realized the man she had ravaged was Jasper Stone, the most ruthless, cold-blooded billionaire on Wall Street.
At the same time, her phone lit up with notifications. Her bank accounts were frozen, and the Cain family had just released a brutal public statement permanently cutting her off.
She was completely abandoned, stripped of her home, her family, and her dignity in a single night. Why was twenty years of loyalty erased so easily?
But instead of kicking her out, Jasper tossed a prenuptial agreement onto the bed.
"Pay off your debt with marriage. Stay, and you are the untouchable Mrs. Stone."
Looking at the contract, Krista wiped her tears, put on bold red lipstick, and signed her name.