The Neglected Wife Is A Hidden Genius
7.2 / 10.0
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I woke up in the ICU, my lungs still burning from the freezing river water.
Just outside the cracked door, I heard my adoptive family talking. That’s when the horrifying realization hit me: my drowning wasn't an accident. My adoptive mother had deliberately pried my fingers off the slippery rocks and pushed me in.
"When is she going to wake up? This Rust Belt trash always finds a way to ruin our important moments."
"If she's mentally unstable, we should just send her to that facility in the Hamptons and have her sign the inheritance waiver."
My father and brothers coldly plotted my removal, while my fiancé, Eric, laughed flirtatiously with my younger sister. He had his arm around her waist, completely unbothered by the fact that I was fighting for my life after he had just scammed me out of half a million dollars.
For ten years, I had smiled, obeyed, and shrunk myself to fit into their gilded cage, desperate for a sliver of their love. I couldn't understand how a decade of absolute devotion was met with calculated murder and such casual, cruel betrayal.
But the pathetic, desperate Iona died in that icy water.
As the suppressed memories of my true identity—"Silas", a master art restorer possessing centuries of dangerous, hidden knowledge—flooded my mind, my tears stopped. I picked up the phone, secured a marriage of convenience with the most powerful man in New York, and began my counterattack.
The Neglected Wife Is A Hidden Genius Chapter 1
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The sound drilled into Iona Crane's skull, rhythmic and cold. She tried to open her eyes, but her eyelids felt like they were weighed down with lead. There was only blinding white light filtering through the slits.
Then the memories hit her. The screech of tires. Miranda's scream. The freezing water closing over her head, filling her lungs with icy fire.
She tried to move her fingers, but her body wouldn't respond. She was trapped in the dark, listening to the mechanical heartbeat of the ICU monitor.
Voices drifted in from the hallway. The door was cracked open just an inch.
"What did the doctor say?" Preston Harmon's voice was sharp, impatient. "When is she going to wake up? The Vance dinner is tonight."
Iona's chest tightened. That was her father. The man who had demanded she be perfect. The man who had dragged her from the Rust Belt to New York, only to treat her like a stray dog that had tracked mud onto his Persian carpets.
"Who knows?" Miranda Harmon's voice dripped with venom. "This Rust Belt trash always finds a way to ruin our important moments."
Iona's heart skipped a beat. The physical pain in her chest wasn't from the water in her lungs anymore. It was a sharp, twisting sensation, like a hand squeezing her organ until it threatened to pop. Ten years. Ten years of smiling, obeying, shrinking herself to fit into their world, and this was what they really thought.
"Mom, don't be mad." Veronica Harmon's sugary voice chimed in. "Maybe sis just wanted some attention."
"Veronica is right, don't stress over it." Eric Espinoza's voice followed. His tone was light, flirtatious. "You look beautiful tonight, by the way."
Iona could picture it perfectly. Eric's arm around Veronica's waist, his eyes lingering on her younger sister the way they used to look at her. A wave of nausea rolled through her stomach. It wasn't sadness. It was revulsion.
"If she's mentally unstable, we should just send her to that facility in the Hamptons." That was Caleb Harmon, her third older brother. His voice was as cold as a slab of marble. "Tell the press she needs rest."
"Excellent idea." Preston agreed immediately. "We can't have her running her mouth and tarnishing the Harmon name."
The conversation moved on. Veronica and Eric's laughter echoed down the hall as they left for their date. Miranda gave final instructions to the housekeeper.
"Martha, watch her. When she wakes up, call the lawyer. I want her to sign the inheritance waiver."
Footsteps faded. The hallway went dead silent.
The monitor beeped.
Something inside Iona's brain clicked. It was like a lock turning in a dark room. A rush of cold clarity washed over her, drowning out the pain and the self-pity.
She saw it. The riverbank. The slippery rocks. Miranda's hand wrapped around her wrist. And then... the fingers uncurling. The push. The deliberate delay before the scream for help.
It wasn't an accident. It was a cleanup operation.
The panic evaporated. In its place was a terrifying, absolute stillness. She wasn't Iona Crane, the pathetic girl desperate for love. She was the inheritor of Silas. Decades of knowledge, restoration techniques, and the dark histories of a thousand artifacts flooded her mind.
She felt her right index finger twitch against the rough hospital sheet. A single tear leaked from the corner of her eye, tracking down her temple and soaking into her hair. It wasn't a tear of grief. It was a farewell to the fool she used to be.
She thought of Eleanor Vance. The only person in this city's gilded cage who had ever looked at her like she was worth something.
A plan formed. Sharp. Dangerous. Final.
The monitor's beeping didn't spike; instead, its rhythm subtly shifted, the space between each beep becoming infinitesimally longer, steadier. It was a new pulse, slow and deliberate. The rhythm of a predator waiting in the dark.
Iona forced her eyes open. The white light of the room stung, but she didn't blink. The hope that had always lived in her gaze was gone, burned away by the icy water. All that was left was a flat, burning calm.
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The Neglected Wife Is A Hidden Genius of Contents
Chapter 1 Ch. 1Chapter 2 Ch. 2Chapter 3 Ch. 3Chapter 4 Ch. 4Chapter 5 Ch. 5Chapter 6 Ch. 6Chapter 7 Ch. 7Chapter 8 Ch. 8Chapter 9 Ch. 9
Chapter 10 Ch. 10
Chapter 11 Ch. 11
All Chapters all
New Release Novels
7.8
Alayna was working a grueling catering shift in worn-out heels to support her broke college boyfriend, Caiden, who claimed to be studying at the library.
But through the crack of a VIP suite door, she saw him wearing a bespoke suit and a Patek Philippe watch, sipping expensive liquor.
"It's a little poverty role-play. Keeps things interesting."
He was laughing with his rich friends, mocking her as his clueless "charity case."
To make matters worse, she was forced into a humiliating mascot costume just in time to watch him passionately kiss his wealthy ex-girlfriend.
That same night, Alayna's mother collapsed with gastric cancer, requiring a half-million-dollar surgery.
When a desperate Alayna begged Caiden for help, he refused.
"Why don't you just apply for Medicaid? That's the path for people like you."
For two years, she had starved herself to buy his textbooks, his tickets, and his shoes.
He had stolen her sweat and her sacrifices, all for a cruel game.
The sheer audacity of his betrayal made her blood run cold.
When a billionaire stranger stepped in to pay her mother's medical bills in exchange for a one-year fake marriage, Alayna didn't hesitate to sign the contract.
She slipped the flawless diamond ring onto her finger, opened a spreadsheet, and sent Caiden an invoice for every single cent.
This time, she was going to dismantle his entire life.
9.3
Content: (Warning! + 18 Sexual elements, Alpha Wolf, Witch, Cursed Love, Small Town, Young Wolf, War, Age Gap, Passion, Consensual Fantasy, Psychological Elements, Strong Female Lead, Drama, Romance)
Bound by blood, sealed by magic. You have finally come, Rose's daughter...
Eva Rose is the last and most powerful heir of a sacred witch bloodline.
Kael is a cursed Crimson Alpha King.
Centuries ago, on the night they discovered they were fated mates and were about to be married, their enemies attacked to destroy them both. To save Kael, Eva made a desperate choice , she trapped him in a magical sleep for 200 years. The price was her own life.
But their love was so powerful that Eva did not truly die , she was reborn. Through her own bloodline, she returned to the world as the same woman, with the same soul, the same heart.
Now, who is friend and who is enemy? And why does this man feel so strangely familiar? How can you escape someone who even visits your dreams?. 📌📚🔥
8.6
I was the youngest Paladin in history, the absolute pride of the Azure Blade.
But after a disastrous mission in the snow, I was falsely accused of slaughtering my own squad.
Grand Master Bernardo Rowe didn't just exile me; he surgically severed my connection to the magic Aether, turning me into a crippled mortal.
Desperate to survive, I tried to climb the Holy Stairs to reclaim my legendary sword, "Rebellion."
Instead of answering my call, my own blade shrieked in absolute rejection and blasted me down the thousand stone steps.
My bones snapped like dry twigs, and I was left in a pool of my own blood.
The pilgrims laughed at me. The guards declared me a lost cause and left me to rot in the dirt.
I should have died there, betrayed by the Order and the holy magic I once served.
But a silent, massive laborer named Cato Sims dragged my mangled body into the shadows.
He healed my shattered skeleton in mere days with impossible skill, yet he allowed lowly servants to spit on him and beat him just to keep my presence hidden.
I didn't understand why my holy sword had abandoned me, and I understood even less why this stranger was protecting a condemned criminal.
When I finally snapped and demanded to know his price for saving my life, he didn't ask for money or my body.
"The mountain does not forget its debts. I am reclaiming what was taken from it."
Staring into his unyielding eyes, I realized my exile wasn't the end, but the beginning of a terrifying truth.
8.6
I woke up choking on rotting air in an alien jungle, surrounded by giant bioluminescent ferns and a three-eyed, armor-plated beast charging straight at me.
Before the monster could tear me apart, I was saved by a squad of men with metallic wings and laser rifles, but my nightmare was just beginning.
When they brought me back to their high-tech military base, every soldier we passed stopped dead, staring at me with a feverish, starving hunger that made my skin crawl.
In the medical wing, a manic doctor bypassed all protocol, pulling out a wicked silver needle to forcibly extract my blood, looking at me not as a patient, but as a winning lottery ticket.
Even their highest-ranking commander, a giant, scarred Admiral, immediately tried to claim me, demanding I be moved into his personal bedroom for "protection."
I didn't understand why I was being treated like a caged miracle, nor why a simple, accidental touch of my hand could bring my winged protector to his knees and silence his feral instincts.
"In the Aethel Empire, there are no females," my protector whispered, his icy blue eyes filled with raw desperation. "You are the only one."
The portal that brought me here was fading, trapping me in a universe of eighty billion shapeshifting Alpha males. Looking at the terrifying devotion in his eyes, I realized my life as an ordinary human was over, and to survive this, I had to tame the beasts.
9.1
He postponed putting my name on the deed 18 times.
Each time, his mentee Ciera had an “emergency.” Each time, he ran to her.
I watched him give her his prized Montblanc pen—the one he wouldn’t even let me borrow. I saw her post their late nights on Instagram. I ate anniversary dinners alone while he “mentored” her.
Then he bought me a necklace—identical to the one she just flaunted online.
That was when I stopped feeling anything.
I didn’t cry. I didn’t fight. I simply packed two suitcases, resigned from our firm, and booked a one-way ticket to London.
He thinks I’m coming back in a week.
He has no idea I’m gone for good.
Nineteen broken promises. One silent goodbye. And a new life waiting across the ocean.
8.3
Half a month into our cold war, I, Claire Parker, found an abortion procedure slip tucked inside Daniel Carter's suit pocket.
The patient's name belonged to the fragile little childhood sweetheart he had always protected so fiercely-Sophie Bennett.
I folded the paper calmly and slipped it back where I had found it.
Daniel noticed the movement immediately. His eyes flicked toward me through the rearview mirror, resignation coloring his voice.
"What are you overthinking now? Sophie was just keeping a friend company at the hospital. She accidentally left it there."
I turned toward the window and said nothing.
This was Sophie declaring war on me, yet the man who could crush competitors without mercy in the business world believed her completely.
The silence inside the car grew suffocating until Daniel finally stopped outside an upscale jewelry boutique.
He reached over and ruffled my hair with easy familiarity, his tone indulgent and affectionate.
"Come on. Pick out a ring. Your birthday's next month anyway, so we might as well register our marriage too."
I bit down hard on my lip as tears fell soundlessly onto the back of my hand.
What he still didn't know was that I wouldn't live long enough to see next month.
![[Dubbed Version]The Last Month of Temptation](https://v.melolo.com/b1265344voduse1318177724/9e23706a5145403705178950795/03rHhlyaTakA.webp!15491.webp!15491.webp)
