The Ice Queen's Secret Superstar Husband
Katy Riddle was Hollywood’s untouchable "Ice Queen" and the secret wife of Oscar-winning Best Actor, Arther Knowles. To the world, they were distant. But in the shadows, she ran his most obsessive fan account under the alias 'Chi-Chi'.
Her perfect double life shattered when a leaked Gala video went viral. The footage destroyed her cold persona, showing her staring at Arther with raw, starving adoration.
But the real nightmare was the final frame. The camera zoomed in, exposing a frayed, black braided string bracelet hidden beneath her diamonds.
Five years ago, as a nobody, she had dropped that exact handmade token at Arther's feet in a chaotic airport crowd.
"Take it down! I refuse to look like a desperate groupie!" Katy screamed at her agent.
She threw millions to aggressively scrub the video from the internet, terrified her husband would discover her pathetic secret and ruin their marriage of equals.
Thinking she was safe, she wore a heavy disguise and sneaked into his exclusive fan meet. But when Arther walked on stage, her heart stopped. Tucked discreetly beneath his shirt, resting against his chest, was that exact same cheap black bracelet. Why was the Best Actor wearing a crazy fan's trash?
Before she could process the shock, Arther's dark eyes bypassed the screaming crowd and locked directly onto her masked face. A slow, dangerously possessive smile spread across his lips, proving he already knew exactly who she was.
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Chapter 5
Katy's body reacted before her brain could process the danger.
She shoved both hands against the hard muscle of Arther's chest and pushed herself backward. She broke his grip on her waist and stumbled a step away.
She locked her knees to stop them from shaking. She forced her spine completely straight.
Arther let his hand fall. He slid both hands into the pockets of his tailored trousers. His movements were slow, relaxed, and entirely too confident.
Katy stared at his chin, refusing to meet his eyes. She dug her thumbnail into her index finger.
"My apologies," Katy said. Her voice was perfectly flat, a textbook Hollywood PR response.
Arther tilted his head slightly to the left. His dark eyes dropped from her eyes down to her blood-red lips. He stared at her mouth for one second too long before looking back up.
"It's fine," Arther said. His voice was low, a physical rumble in the quiet hallway. "Miss Riddle."
The formal name felt like a knife twisting in her stomach. Katy swallowed the lump in her throat. She forced the corners of her mouth up into a fake, polite smile.
Footsteps echoed from the far end of the hallway. Two stagehands carrying a ladder turned the corner, walking toward them.
Panic spiked in Katy's chest. She immediately shifted her weight, leaning closer to the wall, creating a massive physical gap between her and her husband.
Arther watched her move away. A dark shadow crossed his eyes.
He took a half-step backward, giving her the center of the hallway. It was a perfectly polite, gentlemanly gesture for the approaching crew members to see.
Katy gave him a stiff nod of gratitude. She took a step forward, desperate to run away.
As she walked past him, the physical distance between them vanished for a fraction of a second.
Arther leaned down. His mouth brushed past her ear.
"The black velvet looks beautiful on you," he whispered.
Katy's feet stopped moving. Heat exploded across her ear and rushed down her neck. Her brain scrambled, desperately searching for a safe response.
She turned her head. She looked him in the eye, her expression completely blank.
"Thank you," Katy said loudly, ensuring the stagehands could hear. "Your performance on stage was very impressive."
Arther raised an eyebrow. He looked bored by her robotic answer.
He took one step forward, instantly destroying the safe distance she had created. He lowered his voice so only she could hear.
"Miss Riddle, you seem to always be avoiding me," Arther said softly, his tone perfectly polite but layered with a probing edge. "Have I done something to offend you?"
Katy's eyes went wide. Her heart slammed against her ribs.
"I am avoiding a scandal," Katy snapped back, her voice shaking slightly. "I don't need the paparazzi writing fake stories."
Arther let out a low, dark laugh. The sound vibrated against Katy's skin.
He stared down at her. His eyes were intense, stripping away all her defenses.
"Is that right?" Arther said softly. "I could have sworn I heard Mr. Vance joking earlier that the way you were looking at me was... rather unique."
The blood drained from Katy's face. Her fingertips went completely numb. The hallway spun.
Did he know? Did he find the Twitter account? Did he see her looking at him?
She dug her nails into her palms to stop her hands from shaking. She forced a cold, mocking laugh out of her throat.
"You are incredibly arrogant," Katy sneered.
Arther didn't flinch. He just looked at her. The intensity in his gaze was suffocating.
The stagehands walked past them, muttering apologies for taking up space. The spell broke.
Arther's face instantly shifted back to the cold, untouchable Best Actor. He gave the crew a polite nod. He turned his back on Katy and walked down the hallway.
Katy stood frozen. She watched his broad shoulders disappear around the corner.
Her legs gave out. She leaned heavily against the wall. She pressed her hand against her chest, feeling her heart trying to beat its way out of her ribcage.
He was just joking. He had to be joking.
Katy smoothed down the velvet skirt. She locked her jaw and walked back toward the ballroom.
She sat down at the VIP table. She picked up a fresh glass of champagne. Her hand shook so violently the liquid spilled over the rim and dripped onto her fingers.
She didn't know that in the shadows of the hallway corner, Arther was still standing there. He watched her walk away, a dark, victorious smile spreading across his face.
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9.7
Darcie Miller survives elite St. Jude's Academy on sarcasm and invisibility, steering clear of golden quarterback Charles Sterling-her most ruthless tormentor. But when her father's bankruptcy hands everything to the Sterling family, Darcie faces a humiliating ultimatum: move into Charles's mansion as his live-in "academic handler" to keep him eligible for graduation.
Now the girl who despises him holds his future in her hands, and the boy who shattered her reputation might be the only one who truly sees her. In a world of cold marble and buried secrets, hate is about to catch fire-and obsession could burn them both.
8.2
Karmen lived suffocating under a tight chest binder and a grotesque silicone scar, forced to disguise herself as her degenerate twin brother, Kem. Her only job was to maintain a fake corporate engagement with the ruthless billionaire Earl Calderon.
But her abusive father suddenly escalated his demands. He ordered her to steal Earl's revolutionary AI patents, threatening to cut off her mother's life-saving medical trust and abandon the real Kem in a locked Swiss psych ward if she failed.
The task was a death sentence. Earl absolutely despised "Kem." He treated her like a repulsive parasite, constantly threatening to break her neck. When he accidentally caught her without her wig, he mistook her for a deranged cross-dresser, forcing her to glue the dirty fake scar back onto her raw, inflamed face in sheer disgust. At home, her father hurled glass ashtrays at her, violently yanking her collar.
"Do whatever you have to do in that bedroom, Kem. I don't care how disgusting it is. Just get the signature."
Trapped between a fiancé who loathed her very existence and a father ready to sacrifice their family for greed, Karmen endured the agonizing physical pain of her disguise. She was exhausted, terrified, and running out of time as her brother's life hung by a thread.
But they all underestimated her. When the Calderon matriarch forced Earl to link his ultra-secure private phone with "Kem" to fake their romance, she unwittingly handed over the master key. Karmen wasn't just a helpless victim; she was the elite hacker Nyx, and she was going to tear their empire apart from the inside.
9.2
Nica caught her boyfriend, Chris, and her best friend, Ella, in a shocking betrayal. Chris was kissing Ella while caressing her close, and Ella only smirked at Nica as if she had won. Nica got pissed off and swore she would not let their betrayal go unpunished. What happens next? Read the story and find out for yourself.
9.7
I died with blood pooling and betrayal.
My fiancé never loved me-he only wanted. My stepsister never saw me as family. And when I discovered I was carrying his child and tried to expose their affair, they shoved me into a shattered glass table and left me to bleed out alone.
But I woke up a year earlier, with my voice miraculously returned and a second chance burning in my chest.
This time, I refuse to be the silent, obedient sacrifice they used and discarded. This time, I'll make them pay. And when a ruthless billionaire offers me an impossible deal-a fake marriage to save his crumbling empire, I accept without hesitation.
They still see me as that broken, voiceless girl who couldn't fight back.
They have no idea I've already won.
7.4
For nine years, Arianna was the loyal girlfriend and lead engineer who built Gregory's tech company from the ground up.
But coming home early from a business trip, she overheard him laughing with his friends about how he would never marry her.
"Arianna is useful. She's convenient for my physical needs. That's all it is."
He was just using her while waiting for his untouchable stepsister to get a divorce.
The betrayal didn't stop there. Days later, she caught him buying Cartier diamonds for a twenty-two-year-old intern.
When she secretly checked his phone that night, the truth was even uglier. Gregory wasn't just cheating; he was plotting corporate sabotage. He planned to steal the proprietary code she had poured her life into, kick her out of the company without a dime, and hand her executive title to his mistress.
Nine years of blind devotion and endless sacrifices were nothing but a cruel, calculated joke. She had excused his emotional distance for years, never realizing he was intentionally draining her dry while keeping his soul loyal to another woman.
But instead of breaking down, the weak, devoted Arianna died in the dark. She quietly locked her core engine code in a biometric safe, hired an elite private investigator, and put on her sharpest suit. It was time to burn his empire to the ground.
8.4
Juliette was an agriculture major desperately trying to get top-tier CRISPR potato data from Adrian Castillo, the untouchable physics genius and wealthy heir.
But to get it, she was dragged to a high-end shooting club, where Adrian suddenly lost all his legendary motor skills, shooting zeroes and acting like a helpless nerd.
His clumsy act made Juliette a target. Blair, a wealthy heiress, cornered her, mocking her mud-stained cargo pants and calling her a pathetic dirt-girl.
"If you lose, you leave this club and never speak to Adrian again."
Blair challenged her to a professional air pistol match. The crowd of elites laughed, waiting for the farm girl to humiliate herself.
Even worse, Adrian just stood behind her, pretending to be terrified of Blair and whispering that his sinuses would swell shut if Juliette didn't save him.
The mockery and judgment felt suffocating. Everyone thought she was just a desperate fangirl who didn't even know how to hold a gun.
But they didn't know the dark trauma she had buried years ago. And she didn't understand why Adrian, a man who could supposedly shoot a coin at eight hundred meters in a sandstorm, was deliberately playing weak to push her to the firing line. What was his sick endgame?
To secure her experimental fertilizer, Juliette finally stopped hiding.
She picked up the competition pistol, locked her perfect stance, and fired ten flawless shots.
108.5. Total, undeniable annihilation.