The Jilted Heiress's Spectacular High Society Comeback
Elliana and her six-year-old daughter Clara were trapped in a horrific, bloody car crash.
A private medical helicopter bearing her husband's family crest touched down on the wet asphalt, but the paramedics ran straight past her crushed SUV.
They rushed to the sleek sports car that had rear-ended them.
Sitting inside were her husband Devontae's mistress and her daughter, suffering from nothing more than a minor scratch and a panic attack.
Trapped under twisted metal, Elliana dialed her husband's number with bloody fingers, begging him to save their dying child.
"Stop being so dramatic, Elliana," Devontae snapped impatiently over the phone. "I am sick of you using Clara to play the victim. Kyle needs to get to the hospital immediately."
He hung up, and the helicopter lifted off into the night sky, leaving Elliana and Clara in the absolute dark.
Elliana watched her daughter's tiny hand drop lifelessly.
In absolute despair and suffocating hatred, she dropped a lighter into the pooled gasoline, letting a wall of fire consume them both.
As the flames blistered her skin, she felt a profound, agonizing injustice.
She had hidden her brilliant talents and played the submissive, perfect wife just to protect his fragile ego, but her endless sacrifices had only bought them a fiery grave.
Why did her devotion end with her child bleeding to death in the cold rain while the mistress flew away to safety?
Opening her eyes, Elliana violently gasped for air in her massive velvet bed.
She stared at the glowing date on her phone screen.
It was exactly six months before the crash.
The phantom pain in her crushed legs reminded her of the hell she had just crawled back from.
She got out of bed, her eyes as cold and sharp as broken glass.
This time, she would send them all to hell first.
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Chapter 5
Morning sunlight poured into the formal dining room.
Elliana sat at the head of the long mahogany table. She calmly sliced into a piece of French toast, the silver knife clinking softly against the porcelain plate.
Devontae walked into the room. Dark purple bags hung under his eyes. His shirt was wrinkled.
He pulled out a chair opposite her and dropped his weight into it. He slapped his palms flat on the table.
"Give me the Astor-Wexler invitation," he demanded. His voice was rough and arrogant.
Elliana placed her knife and fork down. She picked up a linen napkin and dabbed the corners of her mouth. She looked at him with dead eyes.
"Why would I give the most exclusive social ticket in New York to a high-end escort?" she asked flatly.
Devontae slammed his fist on the table. The silverware rattled. "Kyle needs this opportunity to network for my company! She has potential. You are just jealous because she is younger and actually useful."
Elliana smiled. It was a cold, terrifying smile. She picked up her black coffee and took a slow sip.
Devontae gritted his teeth. "Give me the invitation, Elliana. I'll buy you that limited edition Birkin bag you've been whining about."
Elliana reached into the leather tote bag resting on the floor beside her. She pulled out a thick stack of legal documents and tossed them across the polished wood. They slid and stopped right in front of him.
"If you want the invitation, sign this," she said.
Devontae frowned. He picked up the first page. His eyes scanned the text, and his jaw dropped.
"Two hundred thousand dollars?" he yelled. "An early transfer from my trust to yours? Are you insane?"
Elliana crossed her arms over her chest. "That is the price. Buy it, or get out of my dining room."
She reached forward, grabbing the edge of the paper. "Actually, never mind. I'll just put the invitation through the paper shredder right now."
Devontae slammed his hand down on top of the documents, pinning them to the table. He glared at her, his chest heaving.
He calculated the risk in his head. Kyle had been begging for this ticket for weeks. If he didn't get it, she would make his life miserable. Two hundred thousand was a hit, but he could hide it in the company expenses.
He pulled a Montblanc pen from his jacket pocket. He flipped to the last page and signed his name so violently the nib tore through the paper.
He shoved the papers back toward her.
Elliana picked them up. She checked the signature, folded the document neatly, and placed it back into her bag.
She opened the small drawer built into the dining table. She pulled out a thick, cream-colored envelope sealed with gold wax.
She flicked her wrist. The envelope flew across the table.
It hit Devontae in the chest, slid down his shirt, and landed squarely in the center of his plate, soaking up a massive puddle of red ketchup.
Devontae gasped. He snatched the ruined envelope from the plate. The grease and ketchup smeared across the gold foil.
"You crazy bitch," he hissed. He kicked his chair back, turned, and marched out of the room.
Elliana watched him leave. Her stomach settled into a calm, satisfying rhythm.
Her phone chimed on the table. She looked at the screen. A notification from her lawyer confirmed the two hundred thousand dollars had cleared into her private account.
She stood up. It was time to pick out a dress for the slaughter.
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8.2
I went to a private clinic for a routine physical, only to find out I was pregnant.
It was impossible. I took my birth control every single day. But when the doctor tested my pills, they turned out to be high-purity vitamin placebos. My billionaire husband, Denton, had been systematically replacing my medication.
Yet, on our anniversary, he brought my sister Beverly home, demanding a divorce so he could marry her. When I refused to sign a settlement that left me with nothing, he froze my accounts and blacklisted me across New York.
My own father disowned me. When an old friend offered me a job just so I could afford prenatal care, Denton launched a ruthless financial attack to bankrupt his firm.
Then, Beverly got into a car crash. Denton's bodyguards dragged me off the street and forced me into a hospital trauma room. Beverly was hemorrhaging, and I was the only blood match.
I cried and begged Denton to stop, desperately trying to protect my fragile pregnancy without exposing my baby to the monster who controlled my life.
"Please, my body can't handle this. Don't do this to me!"
But he just looked at me with pure disgust and ordered his men to strap me to the chair, forcing the needle into my vein while threatening to kill me if his mistress died.
As I dragged my bleeding, cramping body out of the hospital into the freezing snow, my last shred of hope died.
I touched my stomach and made a vow: I would disappear, and I would make them all pay.
8.5
Synopsis
It still feels so unreal being dumped by my boyfriend at the courtyard on the day of our wedding.
David didn't show up and when I called him to know the reason why.
He told me right to my face that he had found love with another woman who happened to be my best friend.
My heart was shattered into a million tiny pieces.
I was wallowing in self-pity when I overheard Lucas talking on the phone about needing a replacement for the woman who has collected a part-payment to be his wife.
I agreed to be his wife without thinking twice wanting to get back at my Ex.
What would happen when two strangers' hearts intertwined?
And what started as an arrangement became a bedrock for something real?
Read to find out.
9.3
My father ordered me to marry into the cursed Vaughn family.
Their heirs were rumored to die young from a mysterious genetic agony. My sister Kayden laughed, saying she wasn't going to waste her youth planning a funeral. So, I became the sacrificial lamb.
When I refused, my father slammed his hand on the table and threatened to throw my dead mother's ashes into the city dump.
"You are a struggling actress with no money and no power. You have no choice," he told me coldly.
To make matters worse, my own agent drugged my drink at a business dinner, trying to sell my body to a sleazy investor just to secure project funding.
I was completely cornered, suffocating under the weight of their cruelty. I couldn't understand how my own flesh and blood could be so vicious, treating me like a worthless pawn to be traded and discarded.
But none of them knew that while escaping the drug-laced dinner, I crashed directly into the terrifying Vaughn heir, Algot.
When his glowing crimson eyes locked onto me during a violent episode of his cursed pain, we discovered an impossible truth: my physical touch was the only cure for his agony.
Looking at the dark bruises he accidentally left on my neck, I chose not to run. Instead, I pulled out the private business card he gave me and dialed his number.
"You need me," I whispered to the dangerous billionaire. "And I am going to use you to destroy them all."
8.2
My wedding to Ethan Reed was just weeks away.
After seven years, I was certain of our perfect future.
Then, Ethan claimed "selective amnesia" from a head injury, forgetting only me.
I tried to make him remember, until I overheard his video call.
"Total genius move," he boasted to friends.
His amnesia was a fake "hall pass" to pursue influencer Chloe Vance before our wedding.
Heartbroken, I feigned belief.
I endured his open flirting with Chloe and their taunting selfies.
He mocked my distress, prioritizing Chloe's fake emergency.
After an accident he caused, he abandoned me, injured, choosing to send Chloe to the hospital first.
He even tried to cut me off financially.
How could my fiancé be this cruel, calculating monster?
His betrayal poisoned every memory.
I felt like a fool for trusting such boundless cruelty.
His audacity left me reeling.
But I wouldn’t be his victim.
Instead of breaking, a cold plan formed.
I would shed my identity, become Olivia Carter.
I would disappear, leaving him, my past, and his engagement ring behind forever, claiming my freedom.
8.2
Trapped in a deadly fire at my own engagement party, my lungs burned as I reached a shaking hand out to my fiancé for help.
He stopped and looked right at me through the thick smoke. But instead of saving me, he wrapped his jacket tightly around my stepsister and ran, leaving me to burn.
I barely survived. But when I woke up in the hospital, my father and stepmother didn't even ask about my injuries.
They threw a stack of legal documents right onto my bed.
"Sign the papers, Avah. Step aside. Jaclyn is far better suited to be Kain's wife."
My fiancé then stormed into the room, publicly humiliating me with false rumors of an illegitimate child and threatening to bankrupt my company.
Four years of swallowing my pride to be the perfect, obedient pawn for our family business, all for nothing.
They threw me to the wolves without a single second of hesitation, expecting me to just lower my head and cry like I always did.
But the fire had burned that pathetic version of me away.
I ripped out my IV, letting the blood drip onto the sheets, and tore their contracts straight down the middle.
"The engagement is over."
I threw my million-dollar ring right at my ex's chest, then picked up the phone to call my trust lawyer. They wanted to take everything from me, so I was going to make them bleed.
7.9
Valerie Ashford, a girl who had just turned twenty-one, was introduced by her father to his business associates at a grand party, where she met a frightening, cold-blooded man.
That man was none other than her father's business partner, the CEO of a major corporation. He was taken with Valerie and had wanted her from the moment he first laid eyes on her.
For Rovano Morvane, whatever he desired was absolute and he had to have it, even by the worst means possible.
That night Valerie vanished without a trace and Rovano became the prime suspect, yet the Ashford family could not prove their allegations.
"P-please, I don't want to die, sir..." Valerie whispered so softly that Rovano had to bend down even lower.
"Didn't you just say you didn't care whether you were kidnapped or not? So shut your mouth." Rovano ordered.
Cold, Valerie felt the other side of the folding knife pressed against her cheek.
Rovano was going to mark Valerie.
It felt like something was missing if Rovano didn't take out his psychopathic urges on someone.
And this time, for the first time, he wanted a girl: Valerie Ashford.
Would Valerie's life end here?