The Billionaire's Ex-Wife Is A Queen
Holly handed her billionaire husband, Crawford, a divorce agreement after three years of a freezing, loveless marriage.
He signed it arrogantly, but then immediately suspended the proceedings, forcing her to act as his loving wife just to stimulate his fragile, wheelchair-bound ex-lover, Delphine.
When his mother humiliated Holly for failing to produce an heir, Holly discovered Crawford was secretly reviewing Delphine's fertility reports.
Seeking refuge, Holly returned to her hidden identity as the star stage dancer "Nyx," but Crawford tracked her down and destroyed her only dream.
"If you ever step on a stage again, I will make sure your dance partner never finds work in America."
Driven by insane possessiveness, he forced her to sign a suffocating NDA and threw a million-dollar trust fund at her abusive adoptive mother just to buy Holly's total submission.
Crushed under his absolute wealth and control, Holly felt a chilling realization.
Why was Crawford so obsessed with trapping her while clearly loving another woman?
Why did her greedy adoptive mother sell her to the Morris family in the first place?
Sitting in the sports car he just threw at her as compensation, Holly pulled out a hidden burner phone.
"Start digging into Barbra's financial history from twenty years ago. I need a thread to pull."
She was going to uncover the truth and fight back.
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Chapter 6
Holly ignored Crawford's outstretched hand. She stepped out of the limo in her high heels, keeping her back straight.
Surrounded by bodyguards, they walked into the private rehab center. The place looked more like a five-star hotel than a hospital.
The elevator took them straight to the top floor. The head nurse respectfully pushed open a massive glass door. Inside was a sunlit conservatory filled with tropical plants.
Holly immediately spotted Delphine sitting in a wheelchair. She wore a pure white hospital gown, looking fragile and pitiful.
The second Crawford saw Delphine, the dark tension left his body. His steps naturally sped up.
He walked to the wheelchair and crouched down. His voice dropped to a gentle tone Holly had never heard before. He asked how she was feeling today.
Delphine offered a weak smile. Her eyes bypassed Crawford and locked dead onto Holly.
She covered her mouth in fake surprise. Her voice trembled as she said she didn't know Mrs. Morris was coming. She apologized for not being prepared to host.
Holly watched her cheap acting with cold eyes. She stood a few feet away. She replied coldly that she was just here to inspect the family's charity investments.
The words were a direct insult, calling Delphine a parasite living off the Morris money. Delphine's face stiffened instantly.
Crawford frowned hard. He stood up and blocked Delphine from view. He warned Holly to watch her mouth.
Delphine timed it perfectly. She grabbed the cuff of Crawford's shirt. Her eyes turned red. She whispered that she really was just a burden.
She suddenly started coughing violently. She gasped for air, looking like she was about to pass out.
Crawford panicked. He slammed the call button on the wall. He rubbed her back gently while glaring at Holly, blaming her for triggering the attack.
Holly watched the touching scene play out. Her stomach churned violently. The sight made her physically sick.
The medical team rushed in. They wheeled Delphine into the inner examination room. Crawford followed right behind them.
Holly stood alone in the middle of the conservatory. Surrounded by lush green plants, she looked like an unwanted outsider.
Ten minutes later, Crawford walked out of the inner room. He shut the door. His face was dark as he marched toward Holly.
He grabbed her wrist. He dragged her roughly into an empty lounge room next door.
He locked the door behind them. He shoved Holly against the solid wood door. He lowered his voice into a growl and asked if she was trying to kill Delphine.
Holly ripped her hand out of his grip. She mocked him. She told him if his heart hurt so much, he should submit the divorce papers to the court right now.
The word divorce lit a dark, uncontrollable fire in Crawford's eyes. He felt his absolute authority being fundamentally challenged.
He stared at Holly's stubborn, cold face. His gaze dropped from her defiant eyes to the slight tremble of her pale lips. The air between them thickened, suffocating and charged. He leaned in, his broad shadow entirely swallowing her smaller frame. The faint scent of her vanilla perfume clashed violently with the sterile hospital alcohol in the air. He suddenly dropped his head, his movement entirely devoid of hesitation. He crushed his lips against hers with brutal force.
There was absolutely zero warmth in the kiss. It was pure, unadulterated punishment and raw, terrifying possession. The impact forced a sharp gasp from her throat. It tasted like metallic blood, bitter anger, and a desperate need for control.
Holly's eyes widened in sheer panic before narrowing into pure fury. She fought back wildly. Her fists slammed into his solid chest, each strike fueled by years of pent-up resentment. But he anticipated her resistance. His large hand shot up, his fingers wrapping around both of her delicate wrists like an iron shackle, effortlessly pinning them against the solid wood above her head.
His other arm wrapped around her waist, crushing her body against his. He tried to force her to submit through sheer physical power.
Right then, the door handle rattled. A nurse's voice called out from the hallway, asking if Mr. Morris was in there.
Crawford froze, the authoritative voice from the hallway acting like a bucket of ice water. Reality crashed violently back into his brain, shattering the primal haze that had consumed him. He abruptly let go of Holly, taking a staggering step back, his chest heaving heavily as he tried to regain his composure.
Holly didn't hesitate for a microsecond. The moment her wrists were free, she channeled every ounce of her humiliation and rage into her right arm. She used the opening to strike. She swung her hand in a wide, vicious arc and slapped him across the face with everything she had. The sharp, explosive crack echoed loudly in the small, confined room, leaving a stinging vibration in her palm.
She watched the immediate aftermath, feeling no victory, only a deep, churning nausea. She aggressively wiped her bruised mouth with the back of her hand, trying to scrub away the lingering heat of his touch. She looked at his shocked profile as if he were nothing more than toxic trash. Her breathing was ragged, but her voice was deadly quiet when she spat out one final sentence. "You make me sick."
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8.6
Four years ago, I melted my skin into the asphalt to pull Julian Moretti from a burning wreckage. I spent years in the shadows, nursing him back to health, hiding my scars while he reclaimed his title as the Underboss of New York.
But on the way to our wedding, everything shattered.
Estelle Russo, the woman who caused the crash that ruined me, complained of a stomach ache in the limousine. Julian didn't hesitate.
He ordered the driver to stop on the shoulder of the highway.
"Get out," he barked at me, his eyes cold.
He forced me out of the car in my wedding gown, leaving me stranded in the dust and exhaust fumes just so Estelle could lie down on the seat.
"Take a cab to the church," he sneered before speeding away.
He didn't just leave me on the road; he abandoned me at the altar to hold the hand of the woman who had once tried to kill him. He called our relationship a "debt" he was tired of paying.
I stood there, the lace of my dress heavy with humiliation, realizing I was never his Queen—I was just his collateral damage.
I didn't call a taxi. Instead, I pulled a burner phone from my bodice and dialed the one number that would end his reign.
"The deal is live," I whispered. "He chose her."
I stripped off the wedding dress, climbed over the guardrail, and stepped into the black sedan waiting to take me to his greatest enemy.
8.3
I was married to the most powerful man in the city.
Yet in three years, he never learned my heart.
When I divorced him, I did it quietly.
No confrontation. No tears. No warning.
He signed the papers without reading them.
Everyone still called me the CEO's wife-
until the day I returned, no longer his woman,
but someone he could no longer touch.
Now he's chasing me.
Regretting me.
Begging for a second chance.
But the woman who once waited for him is gone.
And this time, if he wants me back,
the CEO will have to kneel.
7.8
She woke up in a billionaire's arms in a penthouse with a view of the Seine. She was wearing a ring she didn't remember saying yes i do to
When Lana Cruz wakes up after a terrible accident, the only person there is Adrian Black, the powerful CEO who says she is his wife. His touch is familiar, and his voice is strong but all of my memories of him are gone.
They look like the perfect couple to everyone but this is the revenge Adrian has been waiting years for. Lana broke his heart once, and now he plans to make her fall in love with him again, only to break her heart when she is most vulnerable.
But Paris is a city full of life and danger. Rooftop parties under the sparkling Eiffel Tower, moonlit walks along the Seine, and sparkling galleries set the stage for love, lies, and secrets that could ruin both of them.
As they fall in love, the line between revenge and desire gets blurry. Lana and Adrian must choose between letting the past take over their lives or giving in to a love that is strong enough to heal even the worst wounds.
A storm of passion, betrayal, and redemption in the middle of modern Paris.
8.9
Ava Kidd just wanted to escape her abusive stepmother when she got drunk at a high-end club and stumbled into the wrong hotel room.
She woke up the next morning in a luxury penthouse, lying naked next to a terrifyingly handsome man covered in her scratch marks.
Recalling rumors of the hotel's secret underground concierge, she immediately assumed she had accidentally slept with an elite male escort.
Desperate to settle the bill, she offered him her only debit card with a pathetic $1,800.
But the man, who was actually Garrison Terry, the ruthless billionaire CEO, was deeply insulted by the cheap plastic.
He trapped her against the bed, coldly demanding a half-million-dollar service fee.
When Ava frantically offered her dead mother's tarnished locket as collateral, he cruelly dismissed it as worthless junk.
Ava was humiliated, her heart pounding with absolute terror.
She didn't understand why this arrogant gigolo was acting like a deranged extortionist, demanding a fortune from a broke girl who had clearly made a mistake.
Furious and refusing to cower, she sneaked out, put on his oversized designer shirt, and aggressively ate his $800 truffle breakfast.
Having no money left, she grabbed her cheap red lipstick, wrote a defiant IOU on his expensive linen napkin, and fled the hotel.
She thought she had escaped a criminal, but upstairs, the billionaire traced her lipstick-stained name with a predatory smile.
"Ava Kidd, I will absolutely find you."
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.
8.2
My son Leo had just died, and the silence in our cramped apartment felt like a physical weight crushing my chest.
Before I could even process the grief, my husband, Preston, kicked the door open and threw divorce papers onto the table.
Behind him stood Gloria, wearing a pristine cashmere coat and the diamond pendant Preston swore he had pawned to pay for Leo's hospital bills.
"Sign it," Preston said coldly. "You get nothing."
Gloria smirked, mocking me for failing to keep my sick child alive. When I tore up the papers in a blinding rage, Preston slapped me to the floor.
Then, my biological mother, Jerilyn, walked in. Instead of helping me, she pulled a serrated kitchen knife from her bag and plunged it deep into my stomach.
As I lay dying in a pool of my own blood, Jerilyn leaned in and whispered the devastating truth.
"I swapped you in the nursery. Gloria is my blood, and you belong in a Manhattan mansion. I can't let you ruin her life."
Until my lungs stopped working, I was consumed by a roaring, violent hatred. My own mother had traded my life of privilege for poverty, let my son die, and then murdered me to protect the fake.
Opening my eyes again, the dingy ceiling and the agonizing pain were gone.
I was sitting at a wooden desk, surrounded by the chatter of teenagers.
I was back in high school. And this time, I was going to make them pay.