The Jilted Wife's Ruthless Wall Street Return
For three years, Adriene Rodgers gave up her brilliant Wall Street career to be the perfect, devoted wife to billionaire Dallin Morales.
But one night, she overheard him talking to his lawyer, a confession that shattered her world.
"Adriene is exactly what I need her to be. A perfect social shield to keep the cameras busy so Elaina can live in peace."
Elaina was his late brother's widow. Dallin coldly admitted that touching his wife made him physically sick, and he only stomached it by closing his eyes and thinking of Elaina.
From that moment, the nightmare escalated. Elaina framed Adriene at every turn—slashing Adriene's beloved dog to death and throwing herself into a pool to play the victim. Dallin blindly believed the widow. He shoved Adriene so hard she cracked her head open on the marble deck, leaving her bleeding on the ground while he tenderly carried Elaina away.
The ultimate betrayal came when Adriene's father went into sudden cardiac failure. Desperate, she begged Dallin for the life-saving hospital funds.
Instead, Dallin ruthlessly froze every single one of her bank accounts.
"Go get on your knees and apologize to Elaina. Do that, and I will unfreeze your cards."
Standing in the freezing rain while Dallin's Rolls-Royce sped off to comfort Elaina's fake panic attack, Adriene's heart finally turned to ice. How could she have wasted three years of devotion on a man who would use her dying father as a bargaining chip for a manipulative parasite?
She didn't shed another tear. After borrowing money to save her father, she secretly signed the divorce papers and left them in a Hermès anniversary box on his desk. Then, she pulled out her old resume and sent it directly to his biggest corporate rivals. The submissive wife was dead, and it was time to burn his empire to the ground.
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Chapter 6
The world around Adriene felt like it was submerged in water. The sounds of the estate were muffled, replaced by a high-pitched ringing in her ears. The cold marble beneath her was the only thing keeping her tethered to reality.
Brenda, the maid, walked down the adjacent hallway carrying a silver tray of fresh fruit. She glanced through the floor-to-ceiling glass doors and froze.
A horrific scream tore from Brenda's throat. The silver tray crashed to the floor, sending grapes and sliced melon skittering across the tiles. She shoved the glass door open and sprinted to the pool deck.
"Mrs. Morales!" Brenda cried, dropping to her knees. She saw the deep gash on Adriene's forehead and the massive pool of dark blood. Her hands shook violently as she grabbed a clean pool towel and pressed it hard against the wound.
Brenda reached for the radio clipped to her apron. "I'm calling the estate doctor. Stay with me!"
A bloody hand shot out and clamped down on Brenda's wrist with surprising strength.
Adriene opened her right eye. Her face was terrifyingly pale, but her gaze was sharp and unyielding. She slowly shook her head. "No," she rasped, her throat dry. "Don't say a word. Help me up."
"But you're bleeding to death!" Brenda sobbed.
"Help me up," Adriene commanded, leaving no room for argument.
Terrified, Brenda slid her arms under Adriene's shoulders and hauled her to her feet. The world spun violently, and Adriene's stomach he heave, but she locked her knees and forced herself to stand.
She pushed Brenda away. She refused to go to the medical wing. A sick, masochistic clarity had taken over her brain. She needed to see it. She needed to see exactly what the man who had just left her to die was doing.
Adriene dragged her feet across the floor. Every step sent a shockwave of agony through her skull. Drops of her blood fell onto the plush red carpets of the hallway, soaking into the fabric without a trace.
She reached the heavy mahogany door of the luxury guest suite where Elaina was staying. The door was cracked open just an inch, letting out the warm, flickering light of the fireplace.
Adriene leaned her shoulder heavily against the cold wall. She held her breath and looked through the narrow gap.
Inside, Elaina was propped up against the massive headboard, wrapped in a thick cashmere blanket. She was whimpering softly, her lower lip trembling as she played the role of the traumatized victim.
Dallin sat on the edge of the mattress. His clothes were still soaked, clinging to his skin, but he didn't care. He was holding a dry towel, gently and meticulously drying Elaina's hair.
The look in his eyes-the profound, aching tenderness-was something Adriene had never seen directed at her in three years of marriage.
Elaina grabbed Dallin's wrist. "I'm so scared, Dallin," she cried. "I'm so scared she's going to make the family throw me out. I have nothing."
Dallin turned his hand and intertwined his fingers with hers. He brought her knuckles to his lips and kissed them deeply.
"Don't be afraid," Dallin said, his voice a low, fierce vow. "I am here. No one will ever touch you. If she ever tries to hurt you again, I will make her wish she was dead."
Outside the door, Adriene's chest caved in. It felt as if a giant, invisible hand had reached into her ribcage and crushed her heart into powder. She couldn't breathe.
Inside, Elaina sniffled, pressing her advantage. "But I don't have a child. The board hates me. My place in the Morales family is nothing."
The room went dead silent for five agonizing seconds.
Then, Dallin spoke the words that finally pushed Adriene over the edge of the abyss.
"I will use my supreme executive authority over the family trust," Dallin said, his tone heavy with absolute finality. "I will ensure you are granted a Morales heir."
"No one will ever question your place, Elaina. It's what I owe you."
The words struck Adriene like a physical blow to the stomach. He wasn't just protecting her. He was going to use medical surrogacy or adoption to bypass his own wife and hand the legacy of the Morales empire to this venomous woman.
Adriene slowly closed her eyes. A drop of blood slid down her nose and landed on her lips. It tasted like rust and salt.
She didn't feel sad anymore. She felt nothing but a dark, hollow amusement. It was all so incredibly pathetic.
She didn't push the door open. She didn't scream. She simply turned her back to the room.
She stood up perfectly straight, ignoring the screaming pain in her head, and walked away. Her steps were slow, but they were the steadiest steps she had taken in years.
She walked into her own bathroom and turned on the cold water. She cupped the freezing water in her hands and scrubbed the blood from her face.
She looked at her reflection in the mirror. The woman who loved Dallin Morales was dead. The woman staring back had eyes like shattered ice.
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7.6
After an exhausting fourteen-hour flight, Katia returned to her Upper East Side penthouse, expecting the quiet comfort of the life she had built.
Instead, she found a pair of familiar red stilettos in the foyer and her fiancé, Caleb, tangled in their bedsheets with his twenty-two-year-old assistant.
She didn't scream or cry. She simply took off her three-carat engagement ring, threw it at his bare chest, and demanded he buy out her half of the penthouse by Friday.
Seeking to numb the sickening disgust, she got blackout drunk and crashed at a luxury hotel, accidentally stumbling into the wrong suite.
Thinking the imposing man inside was a high-end escort hired by her friend, she threw him over her shoulder and spent a wild night with him.
The next morning, she left five thousand dollars on his nightstand with a lipstick-stained note.
"Good Job."
For six years, she had funded Caleb's dreams and built his startup from the ground up, only to be treated like a lifeless ATM.
With ruthless precision, she spent the next two months systematically bankrupting his company, cutting off his venture capital, and erasing his life's work.
She felt no heartbreak, only a cold, calculating need to cleanse herself of his betrayal.
But when Katia finally returned to corporate headquarters to co-lead a massive merger, she literally crashed into the new Vice President.
Strong arms caught her waist, and the sharp scent of cedarwood and whiskey hit her like a freight train.
"You came back," Jackson whispered, his eyes burning as he stared at the woman who had treated him like a cheap gigolo.
8.7
For three years, Blair Guzman poured her resources into turning a broke waiter into an Oscar-winning actor, letting the world believe they were a couple just to keep him under her control.
But the night he won his Oscar, he publicly betrayed her by kissing Kiana—Blair’s estranged, rival sister.
Kiana and her mother brought the scandal right to the Glover family dinner table, trying to humiliate Blair.
"You're just mad because he dumped you for me," Kiana sneered in front of the entire family.
Instead of crying, Blair ruthlessly dismantled them, exposing how their cheap tabloid stunt tanked the family's corporate value.
Impressed by her cold logic, the family matriarch handed Blair the ultimate voting power, but it was a trap.
The matriarch immediately used Blair's elevated status to force her into an arranged marriage with a notorious, debt-ridden playboy just to secure a European shipping lane.
To her family, she was never a daughter—she was just a premium asset to be traded to the highest bidder.
What her greedy family didn't know was that Blair had already made a terrifying deal.
She was secretly married to the ruthless billionaire Butler McIntyre—a man who demanded absolute possession of her body and soul.
Now, her family's arranged parasite and her secret devil of a husband were on a collision course, and the wreckage was going to be spectacular.
9.5
On the day she discovers she is pregnant, Amara is handed divorce papers by the man she loved for three years. Betrayed by her husband and her best friend, she walks away with nothing-except the secret growing inside her.
But what Ethan Cole doesn't know is that the woman he abandoned is not weak... and not alone.
When Amara returns as a powerful heiress, no longer the woman he could control, Ethan begins to regret everything. But as secrets unravel and the truth about her pregnancy comes closer to light, one question remains-
When he finally finds out the child is his... will it already be too late?
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.
8.8
Clara supported her boyfriend Leo for four years, paying his rent and buying his headshots while working dead-end extra gigs.
On his twenty-sixth birthday, she caught him in their bed with Veronica, a wealthy producer's daughter who constantly stole Clara's roles.
Leo mocked Clara as a "pathetic, poor stepping stone" who was just there until he got his foot in the door.
Veronica threatened to ruin Clara's career forever.
Clara dumped him, packed her bags, and impulsively entered a contract marriage with a cold stranger she met at City Hall.
But her nightmare wasn't over.
When her mother suddenly needed a $200,000 emergency brain surgery, Clara was forced to take a demeaning extra gig to survive.
There, Veronica and her starlet friend cornered Clara.
They mocked her cheap clothes, ridiculed her new wedding ring as fake glass, and intentionally poured scalding coffee on her feet.
"Well, maid, you better clean that up."
Veronica laughed, forcing Clara to her knees to wipe up the burning liquid while snapping photos.
Clara swallowed her burning humiliation, secretly recording their abuse on her phone.
She endured the pain, desperate for the $300 day rate to save her mother's life, feeling entirely crushed by their overwhelming wealth and power.
What she didn't know was that outside the soundstage, her new contract husband—the man she thought was just a struggling, broke tech worker—was sitting in a sleek black Maybach.
He watched his wife kneeling on the floor, and his dark eyes filled with a lethal, terrifying rage.
9.7
"This is not a game." As I wrapped my arm around her waist, I slipped my hand under her dress.
"What are you doing?" She froze, eyes like a deer caught in the headlights.
Kissing the back of her ear, I whispered, "Do you want me to take it out now?" I rubbed my finger against her pussy. As expected, she was soaking. A blaze of lust and need swept through me. My cock was hard, pressed against her ass. "You're drenched, my love. I know you enjoy it. Stop fighting it. Give in. Submit to your desire."
***
TARA
A family practice forces me to run away from home, leaving me disgraced and my family in shame.
Just when I start making new friends, someone threatens to expose who I am and the person behind my nom de plume. The condition- a contract marriage, the very same reason I fled from.
So, what's so different this time? Mad Shanewood- the achingly handsome, with waving red flags, an irrefutable passion, or a magnetic attraction?
With my secrets still haunting me, now the whole world is watching, and our delicately fragile public image is at stake.
After a glimpse beneath his shallow exterior, there is a damaged soul who makes me feel as if I'm everything to him.
And how is it that the one thing I never wanted has me fighting so hard to keep?
***
MAD
I always get the deal done until my recklessness has thrown the company into a tailspin, derailing my path to a billion-dollar project.
With my image under brutal public scrutiny, marriage is my last straw.
Tara Montimer not only intrigues me. She's selfless, kind-hearted, and sexy as hell. And something deep in her eyes makes me question if I'm worthy to be her husband.
For me, it seems that it's not just fixing my reputation anymore- the entrancing deposed princess didn't only steal my breath away. She penetrates the protective wall around my heart that I built for years.
Our goals may be aligned. But then there's a disapproving father who is a King, a law, and constant threats that prevent us from getting married.
Will this razor-thin edge arrangement be enough to fix what's been broken, or is something between us worth fighting for?