The Abandoned Wife's Glamorous Return As A Global Star
For five years, Elyse loved Trevor with everything she had, yet it meant nothing when his former lover returned-pregnant.
Reduced to the city's joke, Elyse chose dignity and handed him divorce papers, walking away with nothing.
But when both women fell into the water, he didn't hesitate-he saved the other.
"I'm sorry... she's pregnant," he said, shattering what remained of her love.
She disappeared without a trace. Three years later, she returned as a world-renowned actress, radiant and untouchable.
When Trevor knelt before her, begging, "Don't leave me..." She only watched, her heart long turned cold.
He pleaded, "Please give me another chance, okay?"
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Chapter 5
Laurie let out a startled scream.
"Elyse, what's gotten into you?" Trevor's voice rang out as he stepped in, immediately taking in the chaos before him.
The moment Laurie saw him, she immediately said, "Trevor, look at your wife! She actually raised her hand against me!"
Elyse stood there, her gaze distant and emotionless as she looked at the mother and son. The accusation in Trevor's eyes told her everything she needed to know. There would be no point in explaining. Without another word, she turned toward the exit.
Near the doorway, Trevor caught up to Elyse and grabbed her wrist—his grip landing right on her fresh burn. Her skin was already inflamed from the burn, yet he didn't notice at all.
A tightness rose in Elyse's throat, and her vision blurred as tears threatened to spill. She bit down hard on her lip, forcing the tears back. Lifting her chin, she met his gaze with quiet defiance.
Trevor looked at her as though she were a stranger. The Elyse he remembered had always been obedient, always showering him with affection regardless of how distant he was. "Elyse..."
Before he could continue, Elyse interrupted, her voice cutting through the air. "Shouldn't you be accompanying Joanna to her prenatal appointment today?"
That single question was enough to reveal that she knew about Joanna, and she had seen the message.
Trevor's expression tightened. A hint of unease flashed across his eyes. He instinctively tried to hold onto her, but she wrenched her hand free without hesitation.
It hit Trevor then—this wasn't a fleeting outburst. Elyse truly meant to leave him.
"I can explain. It's not what you're imagining," Trevor said, panic creeping into his voice.
Elyse stepped back, putting distance between them. Her tone turned icy. "Trevor, whatever she is to you doesn't concern me. What matters is that she's pregnant with your child. I won't accept betrayal. Let's end this marriage. Don't push me to despise you completely."
Laurie came out just in time to catch Elyse's words, her expression instantly brightening with excitement. "Trevor, is that true? Who's having your baby? That's fantastic news! Since Elyse is asking for a divorce, you should agree right away!"
A hollow smile tugged at Elyse's lips. She had expected this—his mother had been waiting for the day they ended things.
"Mom, can you stop picking on Elyse all the time? She wouldn't have reacted like this unless you crossed the line. And for the record, I have no intention of divorcing her," Trevor said firmly.
Elyse stared at Trevor with her reddened eyes. A dull ache spread through her chest, as if something inside was being carved away piece by piece. So he had always known what she endured, yet chose not to intervene. Perhaps to him, the peaceful facade was what mattered the most, even if it meant she suffered from mistreatment.
At this point, whatever fragile hope Elyse had left for Trevor was completely gone. Without hesitation, she turned and walked away.
Trevor moved to follow, but Laurie blocked his way. She held Trevor's arm and launched into a tirade. "The entire family opposed your marriage to Elyse. But you ignored us and married her behind our backs. What could she even bring to the table? She is all looks and no substance!"
Trevor tuned out her words and pulled his arm free from her grip before rushing after Elyse.
The moment Trevor was gone, Laurie wasted no time making a call for an investigation. If there really was another woman carrying his child, she intended to bring the woman into the Blake household without delay, no matter her background. Trevor's grandmother had long been waiting for a great-grandchild and would never allow a Blake descendant to remain outside the family. Once that woman entered Blake Manor, Elyse would be more than determined to leave Trevor.
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8.6
"What do you think people would say if they found out you don't have a dick?" Christian asked, his voice low and dripping with seduction. His hand pressed firmly against my crotch, fingers exploring the flat, unfamiliar emptiness there. A devilish smirk curved his lips. "Or if they discovered these voluptuous breasts you've been hiding so well?"
A strangled moan slipped from my throat as his hand slid under my shirt, his fingers brushing over my hardened nipples, teasing them with slow, deliberate strokes.
"Which do you think they'd call you?" he murmured, eyes gleaming. "A boy with tits... or a dickless little fraud?"
I stared into his hungry blue eyes, words failing me.
"The term you're looking for is 'girl,'" came Xavier's smooth voice from the bathroom doorway. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click, his gaze raking over me with open interest. "So tell me, little girl... what the hell is someone like you doing in an all-boys dorm?"
Christian's smirk widened. "She wants to be devoured by boys like us." His fingers gave my nipple one last firm pinch before he leaned in closer, breath hot against my ear. "And I'll be more than happy to give her a taste."
7.1
I was the Architect who built the digital fortress for the most feared Don in New York.
To the world, I was Brendan Wiggins’s silent, elegant Queen.
But then my burner phone buzzed under the dinner table.
It was a photo from his mistress: a positive pregnancy test.
"Your husband is celebrating right now," the caption read. "You are just the furniture."
I looked across the table at Brendan. He smiled and held my hand, lying to my face without blinking.
He thought he owned me because he saved my life ten years ago.
He told her I was just "functional." That I was a barren asset he kept around to look respectable, while she carried his legacy.
He thought I would accept the disrespect because I had nowhere else to go.
He was wrong.
I didn't want to divorce him—you don't divorce a Don.
And I didn't want to kill him. That was too easy.
I wanted to erase him.
I liquidated fifty million dollars from the offshore accounts only I could access. I destroyed the servers I had built.
Then, I contacted a black-market chemist for a procedure called "Tabula Rasa."
It doesn't kill the body. It wipes the mind clean. A total hard reset of the soul.
On his birthday, while he was out celebrating his bastard son, I drank the vial.
When he finally came home to find the empty house and the melted wedding ring, he realized the truth.
He could burn the world down looking for me, but he would never find his wife.
Because the woman who loved him no longer existed.
7.5
On the morning of our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, I found a cream-colored document tucked inside my husband's suit pocket.
It was a twenty-million-dollar asset transfer for his former receptionist, Carmen. But what made my blood run cold was the contingent beneficiary: Leo, my newborn son who the hospital claimed was kidnapped twenty-three years ago.
When I confronted Devonte, he didn't even try to explain. He handed me a fake Cartier watch, canceled all my credit cards, and publicly called me delusional.
The next day, he moved Carmen into our mansion and emptied all our joint accounts into offshore trusts.
"If you don't sign these papers and walk away, I will have you committed," he threatened, his mother nodding in agreement.
They had orchestrated the kidnapping of my baby, hiding him with the mistress while I spent half my life sedated and screaming in grief. Now, to keep his secret, Devonte was going to lock me in a psychiatric ward and bury me in debt.
I didn't understand how the man I loved could be such a monster. Why did he steal my child? What else was hidden in that confidential adoption file?
Pushed to the absolute brink, I refused to be his victim.
When his goons came to my temporary apartment to drag me away, I turned to the rugged union electrician who had just fixed my lights.
"If you need a husband to keep you out of a psych ward, I'll marry you," he said, offering himself as my legal shield.
I took his hand. It was time to tear my husband's perfect life apart.
8.8
I am the best esports jungler in the league, but I've been hiding a severe wrist injury just to keep my team alive in the semifinals.
Right in the middle of the crucial tie-breaker game, our mid-laner deliberately walked into the enemy team and died without casting a single defensive spell.
He was match-fixing for offshore betting sites, throwing away our entire season for a massive payout.
Because of his betrayal, we had to sub in two terrified rookies, and we were absolutely slaughtered. The stadium crowd booed us out of the arena. The internet exploded with pure vitriol, trending hashtags calling me a washed-up fraud who hid on the bench to save my own stats. The media demanded I retire immediately. My physical therapist gave me a grim ultimatum: my shredded nerves only allow me four hours of playtime a day before my right hand completely locks up.
I destroyed my own body for this team, only to be sold out by a coward and crucified by the very fans I bled for. Why should my legacy end in total disgrace because of someone else's greed?
I refuse to step down. I forced the traitor out, ignored management's safe roster choices, and locked my eyes on the most toxic, universally hated streamer on the platform.
"He's a walking PR nightmare," my coach warned.
I don't care. He is an arrogant, unhinged killer in the game, and I am going to make him mine.
8.1
One wardrobe malfunction.
Two people who don't belong together.
Three awful "Be my wife."
Everyone else is at this party to marry the host.
I'm only here until I can get a ride home.
When my dress rips in the world's worst-timed wardrobe malfunction,
I go find somewhere quiet to fix it.
So I'm standing there in nothing but my heels when,
As my luck would have it, the door opens...
And the man of the hour walks in.
I wish I could say I played it cool.
But it's been a looong time since anyone has seen me in my birthday suit...
Much less the hottest man I've ever laid eyes on.
All I want to do is fix my dress, click my heels three times, and be back on my couch in fuzzy slippers.
But Ivan has other ideas.
He's decided who he's taking to the altar...
And I don't have a choice but to say "I do."
8.0
After fifteen years of marriage and a brutal battle with infertility, I finally saw two pink lines on a pregnancy test. This baby was my victory, the heir that would finally secure my place as the wife of mob capo Marco Vitiello. I planned to announce it at his mother's party, a triumph over the matriarch who saw me as nothing but a barren field.
But before I could celebrate, my friend sent me a video. The headline read: "MOB CAPO MARCO VITIELLO'S PASSIONATE NIGHTCLUB KISS!" It was him, my husband, devouring a woman who looked like a younger, fresher version of me.
Hours later, Marco stumbled home, drunk and reeking of another woman's perfume. He complained about his mother begging him for an heir, completely unaware of the secret I held. Then my phone lit up with a text from an unknown number.
"Your husband slept with my girl. We need to talk."
It was signed by Dante Moretti, the ruthless Don of our rival family.
The meeting with Dante was a nightmare. He showed me another video. This time, I heard my husband's voice, telling the other woman, "I love you. Elara... that's just business." My fifteen years of loyalty, of building his empire, of taking a bullet for him-all dismissed as "just business."
Dante didn't just reveal the affair; he showed me proof that Marco was already stealing our shared assets to build a new life with his mistress. Then, he made me an offer.
"Divorce him," he said, his eyes cold and calculating. "Join me. We'll build an empire together and destroy him."