The Broken Mother's Ruthless Revenge
My little boy died on the operating table during a minor, routine surgery.
That exact same night, my billionaire husband bought out the Hudson River for a massive, million-dollar fireworks show.
It wasn't to mourn our child. It was to celebrate his first love's son being discharged from the hospital.
When I confronted him with our son's death certificate, he sneered and accused me of hiding the boy to get his attention.
He held his mistress in our home, watched her fake a panic attack, and threatened to bankrupt my family if I didn't get on my knees and apologize to her.
But the most horrifying truth came from a terrified hospital nurse.
My son's anesthesia was deliberately kept low during the procedure to keep his tissue viable to save the mistress's child.
He was awake and in agonizing pain while his own father planned a grand celebration for another man's son.
I couldn't understand how a father could be so completely heartless.
How could he sacrifice his own flesh and blood just to please a woman who constantly manipulated him?
Looking at the ashes on my son's favorite toy, my paralyzing grief evaporated, replaced by a cold, unyielding rage.
I arranged my little boy's funeral alone in the freezing rain, left my wedding ring on the counter, and walked straight into the private hotel suite of my husband's most ruthless business rival.
"Let's take him down," I said.
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Chapter 6
Warmth.
It was the first thing she felt. Heavy, thick blankets. A soft beeping sound.
Beverley opened her eyes. The ceiling was white. The room smelled of antiseptic.
A woman in scrubs was adjusting an IV bag on the pole next to the bed. She saw Beverley move and let out a sigh of relief.
"Mrs. Stevenson? Can you hear me?"
Beverley swallowed. Her throat was raw. "What happened?"
"You're at New York Presbyterian," the nurse said. "A snowplow driver saw your car stuck on the curb. You were unconscious. Your core temperature was dropping fast. Another half hour, and we wouldn't have been having this conversation."
Beverley closed her eyes. She was alive. She wasn't sure if that was a blessing or a curse.
"Was my husband... did he come?" she asked.
The nurse's expression tightened. She shook her head slowly. "Mr. Stevenson hasn't been here. But he did call the nurses' station. He asked about the condition of another patient. Ms. Frederick."
Beverley let out a bitter laugh that hurt her chest. Of course.
The nurse—her name tag read Brenda Carr—pulled up a chair. She sat down, looking nervous. She glanced at the door, then back at Beverley.
"Mrs. Stevenson," Brenda whispered. "I was on duty the day your son had his surgery."
Beverley's head snapped toward her. The fog in her brain cleared instantly.
"I shouldn't be telling you this," Brenda said, wringing her hands. "But I can't sleep. I keep seeing his face."
"Tell me," Beverley said, her voice hard.
"The anesthesia log," Brenda said, her voice trembling. "The dosage they gave Aiden... it was way too low. Dr. Caldwell, the surgeon, he argued with the hospital administrators about it. He said it wasn't safe. But they overruled him."
"Why?" Beverley asked, leaning forward, ignoring the pain in her chest.
"They said they needed to keep the tissue viable," Brenda whispered, tears in her eyes. "They wanted him conscious enough to... I don't know. But he was in pain, Mrs. Stevenson. He was awake during the surgery."
Beverley felt like she had been punched in the stomach. Aiden, awake. Aiden, in pain. While Ellwood was planning a fireworks show.
"Dr. Alistair Caldwell," Beverley repeated, locking the name away.
"Please, don't tell them I told you," Brenda begged, standing up. "I have to go."
She hurried out of the room.
Beverley didn't hesitate. She pulled the IV needle out of her arm. Blood welled up, but she ignored it. A wave of dizziness washed over her, and she gripped the side of the bed to steady herself. She swung her legs over the side. The nurse had thoughtfully placed her personal effects, now dry, in a plastic bag on the bedside table. She grabbed her coat, her phone—now with 3% battery—and her car keys.
A doctor tried to stop her at the door, but she pushed past him. "I'm leaving. Sign the papers or don't. I don't care."
She took the elevator down to the basement parking garage. She needed to find her car. She needed to find Dr. Caldwell.
The garage was dim. The concrete pillars cast long shadows. She spotted her car—the front end was crumpled, evidence of the crash. A tow truck had brought it here, leaving it parked crookedly in a corner spot.
She was walking toward it when she heard a voice.
"Ellwood, I told you it's fine."
Beverley stepped back into the shadows. Kaleigh Frederick walked out from between two parked cars. Her son Ryan was trailing behind her, holding a toy truck.
Kaleigh's arm was wrapped in a thick, bulky bandage, identical to the one Ellwood had been wearing. It looked serious, but as she gestured, the edge of it slipped, revealing perfectly unblemished skin for a fraction of a second before she quickly tugged it back into place.
Ryan saw Beverley walking toward her car. He ran over and threw his toy truck near the rear tire.
Beverley frowned. She didn't have time for this. She pulled out her phone to call a cab instead—her car was clearly undrivable.
Ryan suddenly darted toward her car. He threw himself onto the ground behind the rear tire, screaming.
"Ryan!" Kaleigh shrieked. She ran over, scooping the boy up into her arms. "Oh my god! Beverley! How could you try to run him over?"
Ryan was wailing, clutching his knee. There wasn't a scratch on him.
Kaleigh looked up at Beverley. Her eyes were wide with mock terror, but underneath the act, there was a smirk. A cold, calculating smirk that said, "I own you."
Beverley understood instantly. It was a setup. A perfect, little trap.
Heavy footsteps—uneven, accompanied by the thump of a cane—echoed from the other end of the garage.
Ellwood appeared, his face dark, his burned arm in a sling, his injured leg forcing him into a pronounced limp. He must have been upstairs with Kaleigh.
He saw Ryan crying. He saw Kaleigh on the ground. He saw Beverley standing near her wrecked car.
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7.6
Johana walked half a mile through a brutal blizzard just to secure a tutoring job with the elite Black family.
But the very night she was hired, she received a terrifying call from the ER—her quiet roommate, Hazelle, had been drugged and severely traumatized at a Hamptons party.
When Johana rushed to the hospital, she didn't find the police. Instead, she found a team of ruthless billionaires erasing the crime.
Leading them was Dalton Black, the cold, arrogant older brother of her new student.
Within minutes, Dalton's fixers wiped the hospital's security footage, deleted all digital evidence, and forcefully transferred Hazelle to a locked private psychiatric facility.
"We are ensuring her privacy."
Dalton's voice was devoid of emotion, treating the horrific assault like a minor PR glitch.
His friends mocked Johana's powerlessness, while Dalton authorized a blank check to pay for the private ward, effectively burying the scandal and buying their silence.
Johana stood in the sterile hallway, trembling with a mix of despair and absolute rage.
How could they destroy an innocent girl's life and simply pay to make it disappear? Why was the truth so easily erased by money?
She had no wealth, no connections, and no proof, but she refused to be a victim of their cover-up.
Staring directly into Dalton's intimidating, icy blue eyes, Johana made a vow.
"I don't want your money. I will find out what you monsters did to her."
She thought the billionaire heir would crush her on the spot, but instead, he watched her walk away and quietly ordered his assistant: "Find out everything about Johana Neal."
9.1
He postponed putting my name on the deed 18 times.
Each time, his mentee Ciera had an “emergency.” Each time, he ran to her.
I watched him give her his prized Montblanc pen—the one he wouldn’t even let me borrow. I saw her post their late nights on Instagram. I ate anniversary dinners alone while he “mentored” her.
Then he bought me a necklace—identical to the one she just flaunted online.
That was when I stopped feeling anything.
I didn’t cry. I didn’t fight. I simply packed two suitcases, resigned from our firm, and booked a one-way ticket to London.
He thinks I’m coming back in a week.
He has no idea I’m gone for good.
Nineteen broken promises. One silent goodbye. And a new life waiting across the ocean.
9.5
He was born from the void between stars - a being of immense power, forged from cosmic origins.
For thousands of years, he walked among humanity, protecting them and keeping his true strength hidden. After losing the only family he had, grief led him to seek his own end... only to wake up in a world entirely unlike his own.
Here, cultivation is the main path to power. Those who master spirit qi gain superhuman strength, speed, and abilities that place them far above ordinary people. Four great sects rule the land, competing for resources, secrets, and dominance over each other.
Icaros joined the Li Sect, where he found companions he came to trust and care for: the capable and easygoing Li Han, the sharp and composed Su Yan, and the spirited Nelly. For a time, he felt he had found a place to belong, even as he kept his true nature hidden and wondered whether he could ever learn to cultivate like those around him.
Everything changed when their voyage was suddenly attacked. A powerful figure floating in the sky cut their ship apart with sharp, devastating energy strikes, leaving only destruction in his wake. Believing his friends had been lost in the disaster, Icaros chose to stop holding back any longer.
> "I am done hiding!"
He unleashed his full power: golden light blazed from his eyes, he flew at incredible speed, and he broke through every barrier and enemy in his way. On the shores ahead, he tore through hordes of powerful jade monsters, destroying them completely before flying deep into the interior of the island.
Meanwhile, survivors washed up scattered and alone. One young cultivator found himself on the shores of Jade Island - a place most cultivators avoid, as it holds no treasures or useful materials, only danger and endless deposits of ordinary jade. Yet despite the risks, ordinary people have built settlements here, finding safety from the conflicts and power struggles of the outside world.
This island works by different rules. Spirit qi is scarce and unstable, making cultivation far less effective than elsewhere. Instead, the people here rely on advanced technology - weapons and explosives that can injure or even defeat those with great physical strength. Here, skill and preparation can be just as powerful as raw strength, and even the strongest cultivators must move with caution.
Now, Icaros has vanished deep into the island. His companions are lost somewhere across this dangerous land. And the mysterious swordsman who destroyed their ship has already arrived here, searching for an ancient map said to lead to the legacy of a being from another world.
Will they find each other again? And can anyone survive in a place where the usual rules of power no longer hold true?
✅ Chapters 1–19: FREE
🔒 Chapters 20 onwards: PAID
(Continue the journey of power, friendship, and discovery!)
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."
9.6
When a global anomaly awakens dormant powers within them, a neuroscientist, a physicist, and an artist discover they are connected by a force that defies time itself. Mert sees the memories of strangers. Elena witnesses the fabric of reality crack. Kai paints symbols from a past he never knew. Thrown together by fate, they are not alone. Across the globe, others are awakening too-gifted with extraordinary abilities. But they are not the only ones. A powerful cabal-a ruthless financier, a tech mogul, and a charismatic influencer-sees the anomaly not as a warning, but as a weapon. Their ambition shatters the timeline, scattering the group across history: from the smog-choked streets of Victorian London to a transhumanist future, and into a terrifying parallel present. Broken into three teams, the group must hunt their enemies through time itself. To survive, they must master their new powers and forge bonds of love and loyalty strong enough to bend the laws of physics. Their final battle will not be fought in any single era, but at the crossroads of all realities, where the key to existence-the very heart of time-is at stake.
9.8
Three women, three brothers, a single, crumpled dollar bill.
Alina's world shatters the moment she's auctioned off-and claimed by the powerful Hawthorne brothers.
Thrown into Adrian Hawthorne's cold, dangerous world, she becomes his to control... his to protect... and, terrifyingly, his to desire. He's ruthless, possessive, and hiding secrets that could destroy them both. But the deeper she falls into his world, the harder it becomes to tell if she's his prisoner-or something far more dangerous.
Because the Hawthorne brothers don't just take.
They keep.
Viviane has spent her life surviving, so when Julian Hawthorne "buys" her freedom, she knows better than to trust it. Men like him don't save people-they collect them. But Julian isn't as simple as he pretends to be, and the deeper she's pulled into his world, the more dangerous it becomes to walk away.
Especially when she realizes she might be the only thing he's ever been willing to fight for.
Lena doesn't belong to anyone-and she intends to keep it that way. Brilliant, guarded, and hiding more than anyone suspects, she enters Lucien Hawthorne's world on her own terms. But Lucien doesn't play fair, and he doesn't let go.
When her past comes crashing back, Lena is forced to face the one thing she's been running from: trusting someone who could destroy her... or save her.
Three women. Three choices.Stay. Fight.
Or burn it all down.
Because being sold was only the beginning.