The Billionaire's Broken, Voiceless Wife
After four years of torture in a so-called “rehabilitation center,” I was finally released. My husband, Elliot, was waiting for me. He wasn’t there to save me; he was there to serve me divorce papers.
He and my adoptive family were convinced I was a liar. They believed my broken leg, my missing fingernails, and my scarred vocal cords were all part of an elaborate performance for attention.
"Still playing the cripple," he sneered, looking at my ruined body with disgust. He tossed a handkerchief at my bleeding hand so I wouldn’t stain the leather seats of his car.
Back home, my perfect adoptive sister, Elyse, confessed everything with a smile. She had paid the doctors to torture me, to break my bones, to destroy my voice.
When I lunged at her, my own mother called me an animal. My father prepared to sign me back into that hell permanently.
They saw my pain as a performance and her cruelty as innocence. When I was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer and had months to live, Elliot tore up the medical report, calling it my most pathetic lie yet.
Chapters
Share
Chapter 2
Elliot's eyes were cold, his face twisted with disgust. "You never learn."
Amelia, her head covered in blood, tried desperately to explain: "Elliot, it was... her! She told them... at the center... to beat me! They broke... my leg! Pulled out my nails!"
He sneered. "Oh? I thought you said you got sick and they rotted. Amelia, how many more lies are you going to tell?"
She choked, unable to speak.
Mrs. Rollins helped her daughter up, her eyes full of concern. "Elyse, are you all right? Does it hurt?" When she saw the finger marks on Elyse's neck, her face flushed with anger. "Amelia! How could you do this to Elyse? She's always thinking of you, caring about you. She even went to the center to bring you food-and this is how you repay her?"
Visit? Bring food?
Amelia suddenly remembered the monthly electric shock punishments. Her voice trembled. "Every month... on the seventh?"
Mr. Rollins looked at her with disappointment. "Amelia, you know Elyse visits you every seventh. She cares about you, looks out for you. And this is how you treat her? We should have let you go to prison back then. Atone for your crimes."
Four years ago, she had been accused of hit-and-run, nearly facing jail time. The family had paid a large settlement to get a letter of forgiveness.
But she hadn't done it. The "evidence" was fabricated. No one believed her.
Then Elyse had said, "Sister has gone bad. Maybe a rehabilitation center will help her become a better person." And Amelia was locked up in Westcliff for four years.
"Dad... Dad! She's not... kind! She didn't come to... visit me! She came to... punish me! She-"
"Enough! I'm not your father. I don't have a daughter with a venomous heart like yours. We never should have let you out. Driver, take her back."
Amelia looked at her adoptive parents, who refused to believe her, and the light slowly faded from her eyes.
How had she forgotten? She was no longer the beloved eldest daughter of the Rollins family.
She turned stiffly to Elliot and forced out the words, "What... do I have to do... to not go back?"
The entire Rollins family depended on the Hardins. Elliot's word was law.
His gaze was icy, his voice low and sharp. "Apologize to Elyse."
She looked at Elyse, who was leaning tearfully against Mrs. Rollins, her eyes red.
Apologize?
But what had she done wrong?
She hadn't chosen to be switched. She hadn't done those things. She hadn't planned to climb into his bed...
One by one, every accusation crushed her. She had fought, she had pleaded, but no one believed her.
It didn't matter anymore.
Slowly, she knelt in front of Elyse, murmuring, "I was... wrong. I'm sorry."
*Thud.*
Her forehead hit the floor hard.
"I was wrong."
*Thud.*
An apology, a kowtow.
She ground her last shred of dignity into the dust.
Soon, bloody prints marked the floor.
Elyse's eyes glittered with satisfaction, but when she saw Mrs. Rollins' expression soften slightly, she quickly helped Amelia up.
"Sister, I don't blame you. Get up. I know you didn't mean it. I forgive you."
Mr. Rollins looked pleased. "Elyse is so kind-hearted. Even after all this, she still cares about her sister."
Amelia no longer resisted or denied. Darkness pulsed at the edges of her vision, and she could barely stand.
But pain shot through her arm-Elyse's sharp nails digging into her flesh like knives.
"Sister, let's get along from now on."
Amelia nodded, enduring the pain.
Mr. Rollins glanced at the time. "It's getting late. Let's take care of business first."
Elyse's eyes lit up, but she put on a hurt expression. "Elliot, would this ruin your marriage? Maybe we shouldn't..."
Elliot's voice softened slightly. "Don't worry. It should have been you all along."
Amelia's head snapped toward him. *Should have been you?* What did that mean?
The Rollins and Hardin families had no marriage agreement. It had been her, Amelia, chasing Elliot for ten years. She had given up hope-and then he suddenly agreed to marry her.
She had just escaped her biological parents and was barely surviving with the Rollins family. She had been overjoyed, thinking Elliot had finally seen her worth.
Then she was framed for climbing into his bed, and he reneged on his promise.
Old Mr. Hardin had forced him to go through with it. They had signed the marriage certificate in secret-no wedding, no announcement. She was like a shameless stray dog.
He grew to hate her more each day. That brief warmth had come out of nowhere and vanished just as fast.
Elyse said shyly, "Elliot, I don't mind."
He reassured her with a few words, then gathered the documents and took Amelia away.
Mr. Rollins took his daughter's hand. "Elyse, the future of this family rests on you. Don't mess it up."
Compared to the unloved Amelia, Elyse-whom Elliot clearly favored-was the better choice. Mr. Rollins preferred her too.
The car headed toward the city clerk's office.
Amelia stared blankly out the window at the passing scenery-familiar and strange.
After four years locked away, the outside world had changed completely. She didn't even have a phone. The Rollins family had taken all her documents and belongings.
She caught a whiff of smoke. Turning, she saw him light a cigarette and instinctively shrank back.
She remembered he hadn't smoked before.
"Bother you?"
She shook her head quickly. Who was she to complain?
But her body betrayed her. Her throat itched, and she began to cough.
Once she started, she couldn't stop-as if she would cough out a lung.
Elliot's face darkened. "Stop the car."
The car pulled over.
"Get out."
The driver followed orders, yanked her out, and left her on the roadside.
"Walk. If you're late, you know what happens."
The car sped away.
She bent over, coughing violently, and a stream of warm liquid shot from her mouth.
She looked down at her hand-covered in blood.
Last winter, she had been left outside all night in the cold. She'd developed a high fever that never fully healed. Her lungs were damaged. She couldn't handle smoke.
Slowly, she straightened up and limped forward.
The sun was setting.
Outside the city clerk's office.
Elliot's shadow stretched long. The setting sun cast a warm glow over his handsome face, but it couldn't melt the ice in his eyes.
He turned and walked away.
He didn't know that a hundred meters behind him, someone shouted, "Someone help! A woman collapsed!"
Amelia had fallen-a hundred meters away from him.
As the Cullinan rolled past the crowd, Elliot glanced out the window. His phone rang.
His expression softened as he answered, and at that exact moment, the crowd lifted Amelia up and carried her past his window.
An ambulance siren wailed. She was rushed to the hospital.
When she woke up, it was the next day.
She saw the doctor's serious, grave expression and felt dread crawl up her spine.
"Contact your family and have them come to the hospital as soon as possible. Your condition is critical."
"Doctor... what's wrong with me?"
"You have lung cancer. The cancer cells have spread."
You may also like
9.7
Luna Elena Frost was never chosen, only assigned.
Bound to Alpha Alaric Ashbourne through a cold contractual marriage, she endures three years as a Luna in name only. He never comes home, never defends her, and never looks at her, while his heart belongs to another woman.
At his grandmother's funeral, Alaric publicly dissolves their marriage, humiliating Elena before the entire pack. In that moment, she finally understands the truth. She was never wanted.
But the Moon has not abandoned her.
A forgotten night resurfaces. Her long-silent wolf begins to awaken. And secrets buried within her bloodline start to surface, drawing danger from every direction.
Cast out by the pack that once used her, Elena must flee, survive, and uncover her true power.
Only then does the Alpha realize his mistake.
By the time he turns back in regret, the Luna he rejected may already be gone forever.
7.9
Meet Maya Brooks, a 22 year old who dropped out of school after her father was murdered and her family lost everything.
Determined to uncover the truth behind his death, she takes a job as a personal maid to Ryan Greenville a 25 year old, irresistible CEO known for using and dumping women.
Cold, powerful, and emotionally guarded, Ryan never planned to fall for anyone again until Maya entered his life.
As their worlds collide, dark secrets begin to surface.
Get ready for a thrilling journey of love, revenge, and hidden truths.
7.8
Andrea was trapped in a suffocating marriage with billionaire Gregory Morse, forced to live as the pathetic substitute for his dead fiancée.
When armed intruders broke into their estate in the dead of night, she called her husband in pure terror.
"Stop playing these cheap, attention-seeking games," Gregory sneered with disgust, and hung up the phone.
She barely escaped with her life, but the cruelty only escalated. At the family mansion, his dead fiancée's sister deliberately scalded Andrea's hand with boiling tea. Instead of defending his wife, Gregory publicly humiliated her, ordering her to clean up the mess while calling her a stray dog.
That night, hiding in the dark wine cellar, Andrea overheard a chilling confession.
Gregory admitted to his brother that he knew Andrea was completely innocent of the car crash that killed his fiancée. He knew she had been framed.
Why did he marry her? Just to use her as a psychological punching bag to vent his twisted grief. He watched her suffer every single day, treating her like disposable trash, while violently threatening anyone who showed her an ounce of kindness.
He thought she was just a useless, helpless shadow who would quietly endure his torment forever.
He had no idea that behind her submissive facade, she was secretly Madame Lan, the apex predator of the global fashion world. And now, she was ready to burn his empire to the ground.
9.1
For three years, June played the perfect, submissive wife to billionaire Augustus Pruitt, hoping a child would finally warm his cold heart and secure their marriage.
But when she cautiously suggested they have a baby, he looked at her with pure, unfiltered disgust.
"A woman who schemes her way into a marriage doesn't get to carry my blood."
He sneered, leaving immediately to lavish his mistress with diamonds. The nightmare only escalated from there. Augustus bought the one painting June desperately wanted—a piece she had secretly created herself—just to gift it to his mistress. He publicly outbid June at the gallery, mocking her lack of wealth, and left her to collapse in the freezing rain. When the storm gave her a severe 104-degree fever and she nearly died on their staircase, he didn't even stay by her hospital bed. Instead, he sent an assistant with a box of jewelry to buy her silence, then forced her to attend a family dinner where his mother and sister viciously mocked her barren womb and background.
Looking at Augustus, who sat there casually cutting his steak while his family tore her apart, the last flicker of hope in June's chest sputtered and died.
She finally understood that her three years of bleeding devotion were nothing but a pathetic joke to them.
She dropped her silverware, the sharp clatter silencing the entire room. She wasn't going to be their punching bag anymore. It was time to finalize the divorce papers, reclaim her hidden identity as the world-renowned artist 'mr.sun', and make them all regret it.
7.8
I was forty-eight hours into my shift, smelling of stale sweat and clutching a red-stamped bill for my mother's life support. As a scholarship intern, I was a ghost in the hospital, working myself to the bone just to keep her ventilator humming.
Then Dr. Thorne shoved a metal clipboard into my chest and ordered me to perform a surgical prep on a VIP patient for a circumcision. But the moment the cold betadine touched the man's skin, he lunged at me like a predator, his hand crushing my wrist until the bone nearly snapped.
"I'm here for a kidney stone. What kind of incompetent butcher shop is this?"
He wasn't a patient; he was Conrad Marks, a lethal billionaire, and Thorne had intentionally set me up to assault him. Within minutes, a five-million-dollar lawsuit was filed, and the Dean ordered security to shred my license and throw me out of the building.
My phone buzzed with a final notice: the facility was stopping my mother's meds at midnight because my payment had failed. I was a doctor who had just been framed and a daughter about to watch her mother die.
I didn't understand why Thorne would ruin me so casually, but with my mother's life on the line, I had nothing left to lose.
I slipped past the guards and back into the billionaire's suite with a set of silver needles and a desperate bargain. I stopped his agony in seconds, and when he looked at me with those cold, lethal eyes, I offered a trade: I would be the fake girlfriend his family demanded if he would save my mother and bury the lawsuit.
"Deal," he said, his grip on my waist tightening with dark possession.
I signed the contract, realizing I hadn't just saved my career-I had sold my soul to the most dangerous man in New York.
8.6
As the eldest daughter of the Sharp family, I was treated worse than a stray dog, while my younger sister Seraphina was their precious princess.
When the family needed someone to marry a dying billionaire heir, they naturally chose me to take her place.
To force my consent, my brothers held a peanut butter sandwich to my face—knowing it was a lethal allergy—while dangling my EpiPen just out of reach.
On speakerphone, my own mother sighed in annoyance.
"Let her die. It might be for the best."
I choked out an agreement just as my throat closed up. But the forced engagement broke my sacred mystical vow, causing me to violently cough up my own lifeblood.
Seeing the blood, Seraphina dramatically fainted. My brothers instantly carried her to the hospital, stepping over my dying body and leaving me to bleed out on the cold marble floor.
I had to use a forbidden blood rune, draining my last ounce of strength, just to survive the night.
Even the mystical Order I served offered no comfort, calling only to demand I secure ten billion dollars for them or forfeit my soul for eternity.
Abandoned by my blood family and my spiritual master, I was completely alone, left with nothing but a broken body and a ticking clock.
But they made one fatal mistake: they let me live.
I turned to the dying heir they forced me to marry, a man plagued by a dark curse only I could cure.
"I will be your wife, and I will save your life," I told him.
In exchange, I would use his unimaginable wealth and power to make everyone who threw me away pay the ultimate price.