THE EX WIFE WHO ROSE FROM THE ASHES
BLURB
Luna had a life she thought was safe. A husband. A family. A home.
Then everything fell apart. Her husband left her for her stepsister. Her family turned against her. They called her names, blamed her, and walked away like she was nothing. Like she never mattered at all.
She had no one. She had nothing.
Then a stranger found her. A trillionaire with power, money, and secrets she could not even imagine. She gave her what her family never did. A chance. A way back.
Now Luna is done crying. Done begging. Done being the woman everyone steps on.
Her stepsister will pay for what she took. Her ex-husband will regret the day he chose wrong. Her father, her stepmother, everyone who smiled while she suffered will face her wrath.
The closer she gets to the truth about him, the more she realizes this fight is bigger than she ever thought.
She came back for revenge. What she finds might destroy her again. Or finally set her free.
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Chapter 7
Chapter LUNA'S POINT OF VIEW
The salon was too loud.
I did not notice it at first.
When I walked in, it felt normal. The low hum of dryers. Women talking over each other. Laughter that came and went in waves. The sharp smell of products mixing in the air.
It should have been comforting.
It was not.
I sat in the chair and watched myself in the mirror while the stylist moved behind me, fingers running through my hair, sectioning it, lifting it, asking me questions I barely heard.
Just a trim.
That was all I said.
Just the ends.
Something small.
Something that belonged to me.
Something that had nothing to do with that house.
With Ethan.
With Sara.
With the weight that had been pressing on my chest since the party.
I stared at my reflection.
I looked the same.
That was the strange part.
Nothing on my face showed what I felt.
No one looking at me would know that everything inside me had shifted.
That something had broken.
That something had changed.
The scissors moved.
Soft. Precise.
Small pieces of my hair falling onto the cape.
I focused on that.
On something simple.
Something quiet.
My phone buzzed.
The sound cut through everything.
I turned my head slightly.
The screen lit up.
Rose.
My heart skipped.
I stared at the name for a second longer than I should have.
Rose did not text like this.
She called.
Or she sent short, clear messages.
Never... this.
I picked up the phone.
My fingers felt colder than they should have.
Come to the house. I need to see you. Now.
I read it once.
Then again.
The word now sat heavy in my chest.
Something about it felt wrong.
Not urgent in a normal way.
Something else.
Something I could not explain.
A slow unease spread through me.
"Are you okay?" the stylist asked.
I did not answer her.
I stood up.
Too fast.
The chair moved slightly behind me.
"I need to go," I said.
My voice sounded distant to my own ears.
I reached for my bag with hands that did not feel steady.
"I can finish quickly," she said.
"No."
I shook my head.
"I have to go."
I paid.
I did not even look at the change she handed back.
I walked out before she could say anything else.
The air outside felt different.
Colder.
Heavier.
I walked faster than usual.
My steps quick.
My heart faster than it should have been.
It was just a message.
That was all.
But something inside me would not settle.
Something felt wrong.
Very wrong.
The drive took fourteen minutes.
I watched the clock the entire time.
Every second felt longer.
Every red light felt like something was holding me back.
My fingers tapped lightly against the steering wheel.
Stop.
Go.
Turn.
Faster.
I should not feel like this.
I told myself that.
Rose was probably fine.
She had probably just needed something.
That was all.
But the feeling stayed.
It sat low in my stomach.
Heavy.
Cold.
Her house came into view.
I slowed down.
Parked.
Stepped out.
And then I saw it.
The door.
Not closed.
Not fully open.
Just... not right.
A small gap.
An inch.
Enough to feel wrong.
Rose never left her door like that.
Never.
My chest tightened.
I walked closer.
My hand reached out.
Pushed it open.
"Rose?"
My voice echoed slightly in the hallway.
No answer.
The house was too quiet.
Not peaceful.
Empty.
Wrong.
I stepped inside.
Closed the door behind me without thinking.
The air smelled familiar.
Wood.
Something soft and floral.
But underneath it...
Something else.
Metallic.
Sharp.
My stomach dropped.
"Rose?"
Louder this time.
Still nothing.
My feet moved faster.
Down the hallway.
Toward the sitting room.
The door was open.
I stepped in.
And everything stopped.
For a second, I could not understand what I was seeing.
My mind refused to accept it.
It tried to fix it.
To turn it into something normal.
Something harmless.
She fell.
She fainted.
She is just resting.
But none of it fit.
None of it made sense.
Rose was on the floor.
Not sitting.
Not leaning.
On the floor.
Still.
Too still.
And there was blood.
So much blood.
It spread across the rug beneath her.
Dark.
Too dark.
Too much.
My breath caught.
Then everything rushed at once.
My body moved before my mind did.
I was on my knees beside her.
My hands shaking.
"Rose."
My voice broke.
I touched her shoulder.
Her skin felt wrong.
Too still.
Too cold.
No.
No.
"No, no, no."
My hands moved quickly.
Her face.
Her arm.
Anywhere.
"Rose, can you hear me?"
My voice came out too fast.
Too loud.
I could not control it.
My heart was racing.
My chest felt tight.
Like I could not get enough air.
Her chest.
I looked at it.
Please.
Move.
Please.
There.
A small movement.
Barely there.
But there.
Relief hit so hard it almost hurt.
"Okay. Okay."
I nodded to myself.
She was alive.
She was alive.
I just needed to help her.
I just needed to keep her alive.
That was all.
My hands pressed against the wound.
I did not think.
I just did it.
The way I had seen once.
Somewhere.
Press.
Stop the bleeding.
My hands slipped slightly.
There was too much blood.
It covered my fingers.
My palms.
I swallowed hard.
Do not panic.
Do not panic.
"Help."
My voice came out weak.
I tried again.
Louder.
"Someone help. Please. Someone call an ambulance."
My voice cracked.
I did not care.
"Please."
I looked toward the door.
No one.
Nothing.
Just silence.
I turned back to her.
"Rose, stay with me."
My voice dropped.
Soft.
Shaking.
"Please stay with me."
I kept talking.
I did not even know what I was saying anymore.
Just words.
Anything.
To keep her here.
To keep myself from breaking.
Time stopped making sense.
Seconds felt long.
Or maybe too fast.
I did not know.
I just knelt there.
Hands pressing.
Heart racing.
Mind spinning.
Please let her live.
Please.
The sound of the door.
Loud.
Sudden.
I looked up.
Footsteps.
Fast.
Voices.
Ethan.
Emily.
Sara.
They entered the room.
And stopped.
I saw it happen.
The moment they saw.
Rose on the floor.
The blood.
Me.
My hands.
My face.
Everything.
"What did you do."
Ethan.
His voice cut through me.
Flat.
Cold.
Certain.
Not a question.
A judgment.
My chest tightened.
"I found her like this."
My words came out uneven.
I could not make them steady.
"I got her message. I came. The door was open. She was already-"
"What did you do to her."
Louder now.
Harder.
"I did not do anything."
My hands pressed harder against the wound.
"She is alive. Ethan, please. She needs help. We need to call-"
"What did you do."
The same words.
Again.
Like he did not hear me.
Or did not want to.
My throat tightened.
"I did not do this."
My voice dropped.
It felt smaller.
"We need an ambulance."
A voice from the side.
"I saw everything."
I turned.
A woman stood near the wall.
One of the staff.
I had seen her before.
But I had not noticed her come in.
Her arms were tight against her body.
Her eyes avoided mine.
The room went quiet.
"They were arguing," she said.
Her voice shook slightly.
But not enough.
"I heard them. Mrs Rose and her."
She pointed at me.
My chest tightened.
"No."
"And then I heard a cry. I came in and Mrs Rose was on the floor."
My heart started beating faster.
"I was not here."
My voice came out quick.
Too quick.
"I just got here. She texted me. I came straight-"
"I saw you."
She still would not look at me.
"I saw what you did."
Everything inside me dropped.
Like the ground had disappeared.
"That is not true."
I shook my head.
"I was not here. I swear."
Emily moved.
Fast.
I did not see it coming.
The slap hit hard.
My head snapped to the side.
Pain exploded across my cheek.
Sharp.
Burning.
I lost my balance.
My hand slipped on the blood.
I caught myself on the floor.
My vision blurred for a second.
A ringing sound filled my ears.
"You did this."
Emily's voice shook.
Not with fear.
With anger.
"You have been trying to destroy this family from the beginning."
My chest rose quickly.
"I did not-"
"And now you have done this."
Her voice broke.
"You did this to her. To the only person who ever showed you kindness."
"I did not do this."
My voice felt weak.
Like it did not belong to me.
"Liar."
The word hit harder than the slap.
"You lying, ungrateful girl."
"Ethan."
I turned to him.
I needed him.
Just one person.
Just one.
"Ethan, please."
My voice shook.
"I came because she texted me. I have been at the salon. They will tell you. I was there when the message came. I came straight here."
My chest tightened.
"I found her like this. I swear."
He looked at me.
Really looked.
His eyes moved.
My face.
My hands.
The blood.
Rose.
Back to me.
For a second...
Something flickered.
Something uncertain.
Hope rose.
Small.
Fragile.
Then it was gone.
His face hardened.
He reached for his phone.
"No."
My heart dropped.
"Ethan, please do not-"
He was already dialing.
My chest tightened.
I could hear his voice.
Calm.
Clear.
Controlled.
Giving the address.
Explaining.
Reporting.
Reporting me.
I felt something inside me crack.
Quiet.
Deep.
I looked at Sara.
She had not moved.
Not once.
She stood at the door.
Watching.
Her face was calm.
Too calm.
Like this did not surprise her.
Like she had expected it.
Something cold moved through me.
A thought.
Sharp.
Dangerous.
She met my eyes.
And for a second...
I saw it.
Not clearly.
But enough.
Something hidden.
Something satisfied.
Then it was gone.
Her face returned to nothing.
"You will pay for this."
Ethan lowered his phone.
His voice was quiet.
That made it worse.
Louder would have been easier.
"I did not do this."
My voice broke.
But I forced the words out.
"I did not."
He did not react.
"Whatever it takes," he said, "you will pay."
The words settled.
Heavy.
Final.
The siren started in the distance.
Faint.
Growing.
Closer.
My hands were still on Rose.
Still pressing.
Still trying.
But everything else felt like it was falling apart.
No one believed me.
Not him.
Not Emily.
Not anyone.
I looked down at my hands.
Covered in blood.
Shaking.
This looked bad.
I knew it.
Anyone would think the same.
Anyone would see this and...
My chest tightened.
A sharp breath left me.
No.
No.
I could not fall apart.
Not now.
Not when she was still breathing.
Not when she needed me.
I leaned closer.
"Rose."
My voice was softer now.
Almost a whisper.
"Please stay with me."
The siren got louder.
Closer.
Closer.
And in that moment...
I understood something.
Clear.
Cold.
There was no one here who was going to save me.
No one who would stand between me and what was coming.
I was alone.
And whatever happened next...
I would have to survive it on my own.
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7.4
My mother was dying and desperately needed a half-million-dollar deposit for an experimental heart surgery by tomorrow.
I swallowed my pride and begged my wealthy husband, Garrick, to save her life.
Instead of helping, he laughed coldly and threw a thick stack of divorce papers right in my face.
"A hen that can't lay eggs gets slaughtered," he sneered, ruthlessly poking my flat stomach.
He revealed that his secretary, my supposed friend Lacey, was already pregnant with his heir.
To him, our three years of marriage was just a business transaction, and now that my family was bankrupt, I was nothing but damaged goods.
He flicked a humiliating five-thousand-dollar check at me as his final act of charity, then locked me out of our townhouse into the freezing, pouring rain.
I had spent years enduring agonizing hormone treatments for a fertility issue that wasn't even my fault, only to be discarded like trash when I needed him the most.
Was my dignity, my absolute devotion, and my mother's life really worth nothing to him?
Driven by pure, reckless desperation, I threw myself directly into the path of a moving Rolls-Royce Phantom on Fifth Avenue.
It belonged to Holden Tillman, the ruthless patriarch of the Tillman empire—and the uncle Garrick lived in absolute terror of.
I thought I was walking into my death, but instead, I became his fiancée, ready to make Garrick and Lacey pay for every tear I shed.
7.6
Top DEA agent Kaitlynn Bruce woke up to a heavy, chemical lethargy, only to realize she was trapped in the body of a weak, abused war widow.
Before she could even process her new reality, she heard her sister-in-law counting cash, selling her unconscious body to a local thug for a measly two hundred dollars.
The thug dragged her new seven-year-old son, Cason, into the bedroom.
"Mommy!"
When the boy reached out, the man brutally kicked his small body into a wooden doorframe, leaving him gasping and bleeding on the floor.
Memories flooded Kaitlynn's mind. Her predecessor was a pathetic doormat whose husband's military pension had been bled dry by these greedy in-laws, leaving her children to starve and suffer endless abuse.
But as Kaitlynn looked at the bleeding boy's dark, unnervingly alert eyes, a chilling piece of DEA intelligence clicked in her mind.
Cason Richmond.
The name, the town, the abusive aunt—it all matched the classified files of the "Director of the Hive," the most ruthless and feared cartel puppet master in the criminal underworld.
How could this battered, starving child be destined to become the ultimate monster she used to hunt?
The original widow's tragic death was supposed to be the catalyst that pushed this boy into total darkness.
But Kaitlynn Bruce was not a victim.
Adrenaline burning through the drugs, she cracked the thug's neck with a brass lamp and choked the sister-in-law against the wall.
Looking down at the boy who was supposed to become a global nightmare, she made a vow. She was going to rewrite his script, even if she had to burn the whole world down to do it.
9.2
I died as the "Queen," an elite assassin who leveled criminal syndicates, only to wake up in a damp trailer smelling of rot and stale tobacco. My new body belonged to Arleen Brewer, a malnourished teenager with a failing heart and a life defined by systemic poverty.
A flickering blue light in my mind identified itself as a System, offering a devil's bargain: survive this life, and I could resurrect my dead brother, Dusty. To earn his return, I had to endure my alcoholic stepfather’s rage and a body so weak it struggled to even stand.
At my elite prep school, the rich kids treated me like a walking corpse, covering my desk in trash and mocking my heart condition. Even my fiancé, Shen Wenyu, publicly branded me as "unstable" and stood by while the school's golden boy tried to humiliate me.
They expected me to wither away, but they didn't realize a wolf was now wearing the sheep's skin. I shattered the bully’s nose with a metal tray and tore up my engagement contract in front of a stunned auditorium, only to be met with immediate threats of lawsuits and expulsion.
I didn't understand how the original Arleen survived this suffocating injustice without breaking, but as the Queen, I was ready to turn this school into a war zone.
Then Hale Clemons, the most dangerous man in the city, cornered me outside the principal's office. He saw through my mask, realizing his very presence was the only thing keeping my failing heart from stopping.
"I’m not buying your loyalty," he said, handing me a gold-embossed card. "I’m investing in a weapon."
I took the deal, ready to use his power to bring my brother back and bury everyone who ever looked down on Arleen Brewer.
8.7
A holiday of raw, dirty pleasures.
A collection of forbidden desires brought to life.
A Christmas spent in Sin and dirty fantasies.
It includes steamy sex from coworkers that love dirty talk and sex, Travelers and tourists that want to experience bliss, holiday pleasures in small towns, brides enjoying the night before their wedding with strippers and so many more that would leave your panties damp and pussy throbbing.
A story filled with hot, passionate and steamy sex. Are you ready for this rollercoaster of undiluted and unfiltered tale that'll leave you breathless, aching and sinful.
If you're not 🔞 kindly scroll past this book.
9.5
As the fetal monitor screamed in the delivery room, Danae begged the nurses to call her billionaire husband to save their dying baby.
Instead of Adrian, his chief lawyer arrived with a chilling directive: all emergency interventions were explicitly denied.
While security guards pinned her arms to the mattress, Danae was forced to listen to her baby's heartbeat flatline. The lawyer simply dropped divorce papers on her bed and walked out. A sympathetic doctor helped Danae fake her own death to escape the family. Stripped of her assets and kicked out into the freezing rain, she tried to drown herself with her child's ashes, only to be saved by a mysterious benefactor.
Three years later, Danae returned as a top medical researcher. But at a high-profile symposium, she crossed paths with Adrian and his new fiancée—a cheap lookalike of Danae. The woman maliciously staged a bloody miscarriage using a restricted chemical, perfectly framing Danae's lab for the crime.
Adrian pinned Danae against the wall, his eyes black with rage, vowing to make her beg for death. Three years ago, he let their real child die without even answering the phone. Now, he was ready to destroy her over a fake pregnancy.
Just as Adrian's private guards dragged her away to be locked up, the hospital doors were violently kicked open. A rival billionaire stepped in with a team of ruthless lawyers, shielding Danae behind his back and declaring war.
8.0
Three years of blame, one day of freedom and a lifetime of revenge.
Elena Torres was called barren. For three years, her billionaire husband Jack and his cruel family made her believe that her inability to conceive made her worthless.
After a bitter divorce and a single reckless night with a stranger who awakens the fire inside her, Elena vanished. Years later, she returns With a new name, wealthy, and twin children whose father remains a mystery. She is no longer the discarded wife. She is now power itself.
"Let's find a new daddy for mummy," One of her twin sons said when Jack was on his knees, begging.
"That's our daddy." The other twin points across the room, to the most feared billionaire in the world, who freezes the moment his eyes lock on Elena.
"We meet again my Sunray."