
The Genius Heiress' Ruthless Divorce Revenge
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Harlow had endured three years of a loveless marriage, funding her husband Beck's life and secretly writing the AI code that saved his failing company.
But when she walked into her family's private memorial library, she found Beck having sex with his mistress, Fallon, right on top of her late father's antique desk.
Instead of showing guilt, Beck proudly announced that Fallon had given him a son and heir.
He demanded Harlow accept the bastard child and stay married just to maintain his perfect public image.
To make matters worse, Fallon was actually a corporate spy from a rival company, actively stealing Harlow's family legacy while Beck willingly handed over the company secrets.
When Harlow demanded an immediate divorce, Beck laughed in her face.
"I will never sign the divorce papers! I will drag this out in court until you bleed dry!"
Looking at her father's crushed pocket watch and the two parasites desecrating her sacred home, Harlow's shock turned into a freezing, absolute clarity.
How could she have spent three years supporting a selfish hypocrite who would so ruthlessly destroy her parents' legacy?
Harlow calmly packed her bags, threw his bespoke suits in the trash, and walked out the door.
She went straight to Fitzgerald Monroe, the most ruthless billionaire corporate lawyer in New York, ready to use her secret identity to make Beck lose everything.
The Genius Heiress' Ruthless Divorce Revenge Chapter 1
The heavy oak doors of the Holman Manor private memorial library yielded under Harlow's push.
She stepped inside. The main chandelier was off. Only the faint, amber glow from the wall sconces illuminated the edges of the room. The air smelled of old paper and leather, but beneath that familiar scent, there was something else. Something sharp and sour.
Harlow froze.
From the deep shadows near the back bookshelves, a sickening sound reached her ears. It was a wet, heavy panting. A woman's low moan followed, echoing off the mahogany panels.
Harlow's stomach plummeted. The blood drained from her face, leaving her skin ice-cold.
She took a step forward. Her high heel came down on something hard. A sharp crack echoed through the room.
Harlow looked down. The glass face of her parents' framed photograph lay shattered on the Persian rug. The silver frame was dented.
A hot, violent surge of adrenaline rushed into Harlow's veins. Her vision narrowed. She reached out and slammed her palm against the crystal chandelier switch on the wall.
Blinding white light flooded the library.
Harlow stopped breathing.
There, on top of her late father's antique red-wood desk, was her husband. Beck's dress shirt was unbuttoned, his trousers pushed down. Beneath him, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, was Fallon.
Harlow's chest tightened as if a massive hand was crushing her lungs.
"Get off my father's desk," Harlow said. Her voice was a harsh, guttural snap.
She didn't wait for a response. Harlow grabbed the heavy brass paperweight from the edge of the nearest table. She hurled it at the hardwood floor.
The brass slammed into the wood with a deafening crash.
Beck and Fallon scrambled apart. Beck stumbled, pulling up his pants with frantic, jerky motions. Fallon slid off the desk.
But Fallon didn't look ashamed. She slowly pulled the strap of her silk camisole back over her shoulder. A tiny, victorious smirk played at the corners of her mouth.
Beck didn't look guilty. He looked annoyed. He ran a hand through his messy hair and glared at Harlow.
"You should knock, Harlow," Beck snapped. He adjusted his belt. "This room? It's just wood and paper, Harlow. You attach too much sentiment to inanimate objects. Fallon and I were celebrating a business victory. You should be happy for us."
Harlow's eyes dropped to the desk. Beneath the messy stack of papers, her father's favorite gold pocket watch lay crushed. The glass was pulverized. The metal casing was bent out of shape by Beck's weight.
Harlow's hands curled into fists. Her fingernails dug so hard into her palms that the skin broke.
"You bring your whore into this room?" Harlow pointed a shaking finger at the door. "This is a sacred place. How dare you do this filthy thing here?"
Beck finished buckling his belt. He rolled his eyes. "The soundproofing in here is top-tier. It's the perfect place to discuss private business."
Harlow felt bile rise in her throat. She stepped forward, her eyes locked on Fallon.
"Get out," Harlow ordered. "Get your dirty body out of my house right now."
Beck immediately stepped in front of Fallon. He puffed out his chest, creating a physical barrier between Harlow and his mistress. He shoved Harlow back half a step.
"Don't speak to her like that," Beck warned, his voice dripping with arrogance. "Fallon is my soulmate. She actually understands my massive commercial vision for the company. You don't."
Harlow let out a harsh, dry laugh. Three years. She had endured three years of a loveless, exhausting marriage to support this man. It was a massive joke.
Fallon peeked out from behind Beck's broad shoulder. She put on a fake, pitiful expression.
"I'm so sorry, Harlow," Fallon cooed. But her tone was laced with pure, unadulterated gloating. "We couldn't help it."
Beck lifted his chin. He looked down his nose at Harlow. A brief flicker of embarrassment over being caught in the act flashed across his face, but his massive ego quickly crushed it. He straightened his posture, puffing out his chest as he shifted from defensive panic to aggressive arrogance.
"You need to accept reality, Harlow," Beck announced proudly. "Fallon gave me a son. Kade is a brilliant boy. He's my heir."
The words hit Harlow like a physical blow to the head. Her pupils dilated. A violent tremor shook her entire body.
A son. He had a child with her.
Beck sneered, taking advantage of her shock. "You're like a block of ice, Harlow. Three years of marriage, and you refuse to fulfill your basic duties as a wife. You wouldn't give me a child."
Harlow forced the tears back. The burning in her eyes receded, replaced by a freezing, absolute clarity. She saw this man exactly for what he was: a selfish, hypocritical parasite.
Fallon stepped out from behind Beck. She reached out a manicured hand, pretending to be generous.
"We can all coexist peacefully, Harlow," Fallon said, reaching for Harlow's shoulder.
Harlow jerked her body away. She looked at Fallon's hand as if it were covered in disease.
"Don't touch me with your filthy hands," Harlow hissed.
Beck's face flushed with anger. "You are being completely unreasonable. You don't know what's good for you."
Harlow ignored him. She slowly looked around the library. The crushed watch. The shattered photo. The wrinkled papers on the desk.
"This room is contaminated," Harlow said. Her voice was devoid of all warmth. "It's full of trash."
She turned her back on them.
Her high heels clicked sharply against the hardwood floor. Each step was precise. Each step was final. She walked toward the heavy oak doors.
"Calm down and face reality, Harlow!" Beck shouted after her, his voice echoing in the large room. "You're just throwing a jealous tantrum!"
Harlow stopped at the doorframe. She did not turn around.
She swallowed hard, forcing the nausea down. The last shred of affection she ever held for Beck Chase evaporated into thin air. Her chest felt hollow, but her mind was razor-sharp.
She would not be the submissive, perfect wife anymore. She would make them pay for every single thing they broke.
Harlow stepped out of the library and into the hallway.
Continue Reading
The Genius Heiress' Ruthless Divorce Revenge of Contents
Chapter 1 Ch. 1Chapter 2 Ch. 2Chapter 3 Ch. 3Chapter 4 Ch. 4Chapter 5 Ch. 5Chapter 6 Ch. 6Chapter 7 Ch. 7
Chapter 8 Ch. 8
Chapter 9 Ch. 9
Chapter 10 Ch. 10
Chapter 11 Ch. 11
All Chapters all
New Release Novels

9.0
I am the undisputed ice queen of the ER, a doctor whose life is built on absolute control. A month ago, I impulsively married a stranger to create a legal shield against my ex-mentor's betrayal.
Our prenup had one strict rule: a fake marriage with zero interference in each other's lives. But tonight, my "husband on paper" was wheeled into my ER, unconscious, reeking of cheap whiskey, and suffering from a bleeding ulcer.
To authorize his emergency surgery, I had to sign the consent form as his wife, detonating a gossip bomb among my colleagues. Worse, his overbearing family found out he was hospitalized. To stop his terrifying mother from flying in and exposing our sham marriage, I had to lean over his hospital bed and take a fake, loving couple's selfie.
I didn't understand why this disciplined math professor was suddenly drinking himself to death, nor why my chest tightened when he looked at me with exhausted eyes and begged for homemade soup. My perfectly ordered, untouchable life was crumbling into a chaotic mess, and I was losing my grip on the narrative.
"We should probably spend some time together beforehand. We could be roommates."
To prepare for an unavoidable family dinner and a wedding, my stranger husband just asked me to move into his apartment. The ultimate uncontrolled variable has just crossed the line, and our fake marriage is about to become dangerously real.

8.5
Five years ago, Nina Hale lost everything... her family, her reputation, and the man she once loved. Betrayed by her own sister and abandoned by those she trusted most, she disappeared without a trace.
Now she's back.
With a new identity and a burning determination, Nina is ready to reclaim her life and chase the dream she once gave up: becoming a star actress. But her return awakens old enemies, and her scheming sister Lydia is determined to ruin her again.
Just when Nina thinks things can't get worse, she's caught in another trap... and unexpectedly crosses paths with a quiet, lonely little boy.
Ethan Grant hasn't spoken in years.
Feeling responsible for him, Nina agrees to stay and help the child come out of his shell. But she didn't expect Ethan's dangerously charming father, Lucas Grant, to enter the picture.
Cold, powerful, and impossible to read, Lucas slowly finds himself drawn to the woman who brightens his son's world.
What begins as a simple act of kindness soon turns into something far more complicated, because Nina came back for revenge.
She never planned to fall in love.
**********
"I saw you with him," Lucas said quietly, but the tension in his jaw gave him away.
Nina exhaled, crossing her arms. "You don't get to care."
"Don't I?" He stepped in, close enough that she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes.
"This is just a contract."
"Then why does it bother me?" His hand hovered near her waist, not touching-yet.
"It shouldn't." Her breath faltered.
His gaze darkened, "And yet it does."

7.3
Ten years ago, I was banished from my pack, branded a whore and a traitor for allegedly drugging and stealing my sister's fated mate.
Now, I was summoned back because my father, the Alpha who disowned me, was dying from a poisoned attack.
Standing by his deathbed, a locked memory finally surfaced—I didn't drug anyone. My husband and I were both victims, poisoned with wolfsbane to force our mating.
But before my father could reveal who orchestrated the setup, his heart monitor flatlined.
My brother instantly shoved me to the ground, pointing a trembling finger at my face.
"You killed him. I will hunt you, I will break you, and I will make your life a living hell."
Even my husband, Kieran, the man I was forced to marry to save our unborn child, walked right past me in the hospital corridor.
He didn't spare me a single glance, choosing instead to gently comfort my mother while I sat bruised and shattered on the cold floor.
I didn't understand why my own family hated me so blindly, and I understood even less who had framed me a decade ago.
What terrified my father so much in his final moments that he couldn't even speak the culprit's name?
Watching my cold husband walk away with the family that abandoned me, the last shred of my naive hope died.
I wiped my tears and stood up. This time, I was going to tear this pack apart to find the truth.

9.0
Isolde woke up in a freezing, ruined stone house with a splitting headache and only five percent of her life signs remaining.
Before she could even process the mechanical system voice in her head, a flood of violent memories slammed into her.
She had transmigrated into the body of a cruel noblewoman who mercilessly tortured her beastmen husbands with a barbed whip.
And right now, she was lying in a pool of her own blood, having been shoved against the stone floor by one of them.
Outside the rickety door, her husbands were coldly discussing her death.
"Just go in and finish her. One stab, and we're free."
"If she hit her head and died on her own, then it's an accident. We walk out of here as free males."
To test if she was faking her sudden amnesia, the snake beastman Dangelo even ground his heavy military boot into her injured hand, waiting for her to snap so he could legally end her.
She was poisoned, freezing, and entirely at the mercy of the men who deeply despised her.
She was bearing the deadly consequences of a monster she never was, with a red system warning of imminent death flashing in her mind.
But they didn't know the new Isolde had awakened a survival system and Life Magic.
She swore a blood oath to the Beast God to buy herself three months of time.
Then, she turned her sights to the dying wolf beastman chained in the shed, deciding to pull him back from hell to become her very first shield.

9.5
Frances survived a horrific car crash, only to return to a suffocating life. Her wealthy husband, Baron, and his domineering mother were now relentlessly pressuring her to adopt a "poor, distant relative" named Jagger as the heir to their billionaire empire.
But on her way to sign the adoption papers, a violent vision flashed in her mind. The crash wasn't an accident. She saw her car in flames, while Baron watched with cold, calculating eyes. Beside him stood an older Jagger, who calmly muttered the chilling truth.
"The problem is solved."
A private investigator soon confirmed her worst nightmares. Jagger wasn't a charity case; he was Baron's illegitimate son. The family had been illegally funneling offshore money to fund his elite lifestyle. Worse, Baron's ultimate plan was to label Frances mentally unstable, lock her away in a Swiss sanatorium for life, and bring in Jagger's biological mother to take her place.
For years, Frances had played the perfect, obedient wife in their corporate marriage contract. How could they be so ruthlessly evil, plotting her agonizing death just to legitimize their dirty bloodline and steal her trust fund?
But she was no longer the fragile puppet they thought she was. At the high-stakes board meeting, with all eyes expecting her to submit, she put the expensive pen down.
"I refuse."
Instead of adopting their bastard son, she slammed down an SEC whistleblower threat, forced a new will, and introduced her own handpicked heir. The war had just begun.

7.4
I was freezing to death in an abandoned cabin, desperately waiting for my fiancé to save me.
Instead, my phone flickered with a video from my adopted sister.
She was smiling as she confessed that she and my fiancé had orchestrated my kidnapping, and my parents' fatal plane crash, just to steal my family's trust fund.
When I called him with my dying breath, he mocked me for faking a PR stunt and hung up.
I died in the sub-zero blizzard, consumed by absolute despair.
But as a ghost, I watched my greatest business rival, the ruthless billionaire Collins, kick down the doors of my mansion.
He didn't just mourn me.
He shot my fiancé, trapped my sister, and set the entire place on fire, choosing to burn alive in the inferno just to avenge me.
I couldn't understand why the man I had publicly despised for a decade loved me so fiercely, while the people I gave everything to wanted me dead.
Opening my eyes again, I was back backstage on the night I won my Oscar, four years ago.
My fiancé smiled, holding out his arms to hug me.
I pushed him away in disgust, marched straight into the crowded theater, and kissed my billionaire rival on live television.
"Let's get married tomorrow."
This time, I would use him to burn them all to the ground.







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