
The CEO's Secret Son, My Betrayal
After years of failed fertility treatments, I finally got the news I' d been dreaming of: I was pregnant with my husband' s baby.
That same day, I discovered my perfect CEO husband, Harrison Ellis, had a secret. A five-year-old son with his high school sweetheart, a woman from his past I thought was long gone.
This wasn't just an affair; it was a parallel life he'd meticulously hidden for years. He gave the private island he promised our baby to his other son. His entire family celebrated the boy's birthday, calling the other woman "Mrs. Bradshaw" while I watched from the shadows, completely invisible.
He told me I was his everything, that he'd never betray me. But every promise was a lie, every touch a performance. I was just a placeholder in a life that was never truly mine, a trophy wife to maintain his perfect public image.
To protect my unborn child from his world of lies, I had to disappear completely.
So I faked my own death in a fiery plane crash, leaving him with only a pregnancy report and the video of his betrayal to remember me by.
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Chapter 1
After years of failed fertility treatments, I finally got the news I' d been dreaming of: I was pregnant with my husband' s baby.
That same day, I discovered my perfect CEO husband, Harrison Ellis, had a secret. A five-year-old son with his high school sweetheart, a woman from his past I thought was long gone.
This wasn't just an affair; it was a parallel life he'd meticulously hidden for years. He gave the private island he promised our baby to his other son. His entire family celebrated the boy's birthday, calling the other woman "Mrs. Bradshaw" while I watched from the shadows, completely invisible.
He told me I was his everything, that he'd never betray me. But every promise was a lie, every touch a performance. I was just a placeholder in a life that was never truly mine, a trophy wife to maintain his perfect public image.
To protect my unborn child from his world of lies, I had to disappear completely.
So I faked my own death in a fiery plane crash, leaving him with only a pregnancy report and the video of his betrayal to remember me by.
Chapter 1
Jacquelyn Spencer POV:
My world didn't just crack. It didn't just shatter. It exploded into a million tiny, poisonous shards, each one designed to pierce my skin and lodge itself deep within my heart.
The news hit me with the force of a train, straight into my gut. My stomach seized, a violent knot twisting beneath my ribs. I doubled over, clawing at the air, as if I could grasp onto something, anything, to steady myself. The room spun, the polished marble floor tilting precariously beneath my feet. A cold sweat drenched me, clinging to my skin like a shroud. I tasted bile, sour and acrid, burning the back of my throat. My body was betraying me, mirroring the betrayal I' d just discovered.
Then the darkness came. It wasn't gentle. It was a sudden, suffocating blackout, pulling me down into a void where only the echo of a whispered name remained. His name.
When I woke, the sterile scent of disinfectant filled my nostrils, a harsh contrast to the expensive perfumes of our home. A nurse hovered over me, her face a blur of concern. "You're awake, Mrs. Ellis. You gave us quite a scare." Her voice was soft, but the words felt like stones dropping into a deep well.
"What happened?" My voice was a croak, barely audible.
"You fainted," she explained, her hand resting gently on my arm. "But it seems… you have some wonderful news." She smiled, a bright, knowing smile that made my stomach churn again, this time with a mixture of terror and a strange, unwelcome hope.
"Jacquelyn!"
Harrison's voice, usually so calm and authoritative, was laced with raw panic. He burst into the room, his perfectly tailored suit disheveled, his golden hair a mess. He was supposed to be in a crucial board meeting, closing a deal worth billions. That meeting, I knew, dictated the future of his empire. Yet, here he was.
He rushed to my side, his strong hands immediately finding mine, squeezing them, as if to anchor me to reality. His eyes, usually sharp and calculating, were wide with fear, scanning my face for any sign of distress. He didn't let go, not for a second, not even when the doctor came in to explain.
"Mrs. Ellis is fine, Mr. Ellis. It seems she's just experiencing some early pregnancy symptoms. Congratulations."
The doctor's words hung in the air, a surreal, cruel joke. Harrison froze, then his gaze snapped to mine, a slow, dawning realization spreading across his face. A tremor ran through his hand.
"Pregnant?" he whispered, his voice thick with disbelief, then overwhelming joy.
He stayed by my side for hours, holding my hand, murmuring reassurances. He missed meetings, ignored calls, his corporate empire momentarily forgotten. The man who moved mountains with a single command was reduced to a worried husband, stroking my hair, pressing kisses to my forehead.
When I fully regained consciousness, he was still there, leaning over me, his breath warm on my cheek. "Jacquelyn, my love. Are you alright? You scared me half to death."
His voice was hoarse, a vulnerability I rarely saw. Harrison Ellis, the man who commanded respect and fear in equal measure, who could stare down a hostile takeover without batting an eyelid, was trembling. For me.
The sight of his tormented eyes, so full of genuine concern, twisted a knife in my chest. It hurt more than any physical pain. How could he look at me like that? How could he pretend?
"Are you really worried?" I wanted to scream. "Or are you just a magnificent actor?"
But the words never left my lips. Because I knew the truth.
Brittany Bradshaw.
That name, once a distant echo from Harrison's past, had become a living, breathing nightmare. I' d found the photo, tucked away in an old financial file. A boy, no older than five, with Harrison's unmistakable eyes and the same mischievous tilt to his smile. And Britt, radiant beside him, her arm linked through Harrison's, a possessive grip that spoke volumes. The date stamped on the back of the photo was just last month.
Harrison Ellis, the golden boy CEO, my devoted husband, the man whose public image was one of unwavering fidelity and impeccable family values, had a secret son. A son with his high school sweetheart. This wasn't a one-night stand. This was a parallel life, carefully constructed and meticulously hidden for years.
I turned my head away from him, the weight of the lie crushing me. Pregnant. Finally. After years of failed fertility treatments, of whispered hopes and crushing disappointments. After countless doctors' visits, invasive procedures, and the silent grief of empty nurseries. Our baby. Our baby.
And he had another one. Another life.
A wave of nausea hit me, stronger than anything before. It wasn't the morning sickness. It was the sickening reality of my shattered life. I felt it in every cell, a dark, churning abyss.
Harrison, ever attentive, was immediately there, a hand on my forehead. "You're burning up. Let me get the nurse."
"No," I choked out, pushing his hand away. "Just… can you get me a basin? Quickly."
He didn't hesitate. Within seconds, a cold, porcelain bowl was offered. I retched, my body convulsing, emptying itself of everything until only bitter nothingness remained. Harrison held back my hair, his touch surprisingly gentle, unwavering, even as the wretched smell filled the air.
He, who abhorred anything unpleasant, who delegated every minor inconvenience, was here, holding my hair, stroking my back. A flicker of the old love, the desperate, blinding love, tried to seep back into my veins. For a moment, a foolish, desperate moment, I almost forgave him. I almost told him about the baby, about our miracle, about what this could mean for us, for our future.
My lips parted. "Harrison, I-"
His phone buzzed, a jarring intrusion into the fragile bubble we were in. He glanced at the screen, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. A muscle twitched in his jaw.
"Work," he mumbled, pulling his hand away from my hair. "I have to take this. I'll be right back, my love."
He stood, giving me a quick, distracted kiss on the forehead, and stepped out, the door clicking shut behind him.
The click was barely audible, but it echoed like a gunshot in the silent room. My phone, lying forgotten on the bedside table, suddenly vibrated. A message. From an unknown number.
It was a photo.
Harrison, laughing, his head thrown back, holding a small boy aloft on his shoulders. Britt Bradshaw, standing beside them, her hand casually, intimately, resting on Harrison's back, a triumphant smile plastered across her face. They were at a sprawling amusement park, brightly colored rides blurring in the background. His eyes, the same eyes that just minutes ago had filled with terror for me, were crinkled with genuine, unadulterated joy. A joy I hadn't seen in years, a joy he clearly reserved for them.
The caption beneath the photo was stark, brutal: "My happy family."
My breath hitched. The air felt thin, sharp, impossible to breathe. The cold sweat returned, but this time, it was from a different kind of fever. The fever of absolute, soul-crushing certainty.
My world, once broken, was now completely gone.
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7.4
I woke up to find that I had lost five years of my memory.
I was told that I had been married to Caspian, the ruthless Godfather of the New York Mafia, for five years.
I had harbored a crush on him for a long time, so marrying him should have been good news.
But the terrible truth was, he didn't seem to love me.
After losing my five years of memory, he felt like nothing more than a stranger to me.
"Break the blood oath, Caspian," I said. "We're getting a divorce."
Yet later, he would pace outside my door late at night, refusing to leave: "Darling, just look at me one more time, please?"

8.2
To save my brother's life, I married a dead billionaire.
My new home was a freezing, high-tech mausoleum where I was ordered to hold a year-long vigil beside Byron Hyde's cryogenic pod.
But I wasn't alone in the dark.
Every night, a terrifying shadow smelling of whiskey and sandalwood pinned me to my narrow bed.
It tore my clothes and brutally claimed my body, leaving me bruised and trembling until dawn.
When I begged the housekeeper for help, showing her my torn skin, she just smiled cruelly.
"It seems the master's spirit has accepted you."
I thought I was being haunted by a vengeful ghost, until Byron's arrogant nephew broke into the tomb to assault me.
His tampering triggered the life-support system, and the heavy lid of the pod hissed open.
Byron Hyde sat up, his eyes lethal and his skin shockingly warm.
He was alive.
Looking at his broad shoulders, I caught the faint scent of whiskey and sandalwood.
The horrific truth hit me like a physical blow.
My nightly tormentor wasn't a ghost. It was my living, breathing husband.
When I confronted him, his eyes were cold and clinical.
"That was a necessary test. I had to know if my wife would break."
A white-hot rage choked me, but I didn't scream or run.
He slipped the priceless, heavy sapphire of the family matriarch onto my finger, offering me absolute power over the treacherous relatives who wanted us both dead.
To fight a monster, you can't be a victim.
I looked into his deep, dangerous eyes and accepted the ring.
If this was a cage, allying with the keeper was the only way to find the key.

8.4
Everly spent four years playing the perfect, accommodating wife to Carson Moss, swallowing every grievance just to secure medical treatments for their sick daughter.
But at a high-society banquet she exhausted herself organizing, Carson's pregnant mistress crashed the party.
The woman shoved an ultrasound of Carson's "real heir" directly into Everly's frail grandfather's face.
The shock triggered a massive heart attack.
Carson refused to use his private helicopter to save the dying old man, choosing to protect his mistress and his company's IPO instead. Her grandfather died on the hospital table.
Instead of remorse, her mother-in-law demanded Everly publicly cover up the murder.
"You will do exactly as I say, or I will freeze every single cent of the medical trust fund paying for your crippled daughter's treatments."
When a battered Everly returned to the estate, she discovered her three-year-old daughter covered in dark bruises and pinch marks. Her in-laws were deliberately torturing her disabled child.
Everly couldn't comprehend how a family could be so utterly heartless. Her only family was murdered, her child was abused, and her husband threw a five-million-dollar check at her face as hush money.
They thought she would just break and quietly disappear.
But when a terrifyingly powerful billionaire unexpectedly blocked Carson's security team from locking her up, Everly finally saw her window.
She grabbed her sleeping daughter and ran out into the freezing storm, making a blood-bound vow to make the entire Moss family bleed.

8.5
I woke up in the tangled black silk sheets of the Mafia Don's bed, my skin still burning from his ruthless touch in the dark.
The heavy door burst open, and his pristine wife, Bianca, looked at my bruised collarbones with visceral hatred.
Instead of having me killed for soiling her husband's bed, she offered a devil's bargain.
"You will take my place in his bed. You will be a shadow in the dark."
In my past life, I foolishly accepted, thinking her money would pay for my dying mother's hospital bills. I didn't realize the untouchable Mafia Queen was barren and just needed a disposable incubator. After I endured the Don's violent possession and birthed the Moretti heir, they cut off my mother's medicine. Then, they dragged me to a remote warehouse and suffocated me with a wet mattress to bury their dirty secret forever.
Until my last agonizing breath, I didn't understand why my absolute submission and suffering were rewarded with such a brutal, meaningless death.
Opening my eyes again, I was back on the morning after the Don first claimed me.
I knelt on the Persian rug, weeping tears of fake gratitude as Bianca handed me the cash. But the moment my escort looked away, I didn't take her fertility herbs. I bought a bitter root from an alley witch to keep my womb empty. This time, I won't give the Don a child. I'll become his darkest obsession, and use his lethal power to burn this entire family to the ground.

9.1
Five years ago, I was a world-renowned concert pianist. Now, I'm an auto mechanic with a mangled right hand, hiding from a past my ex-husband, Carter, dismisses as a "tantrum."
He drags me to a charity gala where his mistress, Alexandrea, puts me on the spot, demanding I play for the city's elite-a cruel, public humiliation she knows I can't perform.
When I refuse, Carter shoves me to the ground in a rage. He still thinks our daughter, Lily, is alive, and he uses her as a weapon.
"Behave," he hisses, "and maybe we can bring Lily back home."
Bring her home? The sheer ignorance is staggering. He has no idea our daughter froze to death in the same car crash that destroyed my hand.
But just before the gala, my best friend uncovered the final, devastating truth. It wasn't an accident. They sabotaged my car and left us for dead.
Tonight, I'm not just attending a party. I'm orchestrating a funeral. Theirs.

7.9
For nine years, I was the "Wolfless Wonder," the shame of the Reyes Pack. I swallowed bitter suppressants every morning to hide my identity as a rare White Wolf, enduring my husband’s coldness just to stay by his side.
But tonight, Alpha Dominick shattered whatever bond we had left. He walked into the Annual Gathering with his mistress, Chastity, clinging to his arm, pregnant and smug.
When Chastity staged a miscarriage and blamed me, Dominick didn't ask for the truth. He dragged me to the hospital.
"She needs blood," he snarled. "O-Negative. Like yours."
He used the Alpha Command to force me onto the table. He watched as they drained me dry to save the woman destroying my life.
"Alpha, her heart rate is dropping!" the doctor warned. "It will kill her!"
Dominick didn't even flinch.
"Keep going," he ordered. "Take what you need until Chastity is safe."
As the machine beeped and darkness took me, the submissive wife died.
I woke up in the morgue holding cell and made a choice. I signed the divorce papers, set the penthouse on fire, and vanished into the night. He thought I burned to death.
He didn't know I escaped.
Months later, he tracked a ghost to a vineyard in London. But he didn't find the broken girl he sacrificed.
He found the White Wolf, glowing with silver magic, standing beside a new mate who actually cherished me.
Dominick fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face. "Annis, come home. I command you."
I looked down at him and smiled.
"Your voice doesn't work on me anymore, Alpha. You killed the part of me that listened."