The Secret Wife Makes A Spectacular Comeback
On our third anniversary, I spent hours cooking my husband's favorite meal, waiting for him to come home.
Instead of a greeting, I overheard him and his mother in the living room, planning to evict me. He was an A-list actor, and I was his secret wife—a "failed PR investment" they now wanted to erase with a $250,000 NDA.
He told me my trailer-park background was a stain dragging his career down. Later, when I suffered a severe allergic reaction to a sleeping pill and nearly died, he didn't care. He stormed into my hospital room, accused me of faking a suicide attempt for attention, and called my late mother a pathetic drunk. Even the arrogant ER doctor treated me like a desperate, hysterical housewife wasting medical resources.
I gave up three years of my life to be his unpaid maid and his shadow, only to be thrown away like garbage. But what my husband didn't know was that the mysterious, top-tier creator "Xen" he was desperately trying to sign a life-changing deal with to save his career... was actually me.
I ripped the IV out of my arm, bleeding onto the hospital floor, and smiled at him.
"I'm going to watch you fall."
I hired the most ruthless divorce lawyer in LA to take half his fortune, and quietly canceled his dream contract. This time, I'm going to watch his gilded life burn to the ground.
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Chapter 5
The high from blocking the Kirby family faded quickly. By the time the sun set over the Silver Lake hills, Carma felt like a wrung-out dishrag. She sat on the couch, staring at a blank spot on the wall, while Emily heated up leftover pizza.
Her phone buzzed. A local number she didn't recognize.
She answered it, expecting a telemarketer. "Hello?"
Earlier that evening, Marcus had called Kendall with a strange piece of news: the anonymous number that had canceled the Xen deal traced back to a burner phone that had been in the same cell tower as the Kirby mansion.
Marcus didn't know who—but someone inside Kendall's own house had killed the deal. Kendall immediately thought of Carma. She had access, she had motive, and she had just torn up his settlement papers. He didn't know how she had done it, but he was certain she was behind it.
"Carma." Kendall's voice was a low growl. "You blocked me."
"I blocked your number," Carma said, her body tensing. "I didn't agree to never speak to you again."
"Listen to me—” He sounded furious. “You did something to the Xen deal. You got wind of it and you poisoned it, didn't you? That was a low blow, Carma."
Carma's blood ran cold. He had no idea she was Xen. He just thought she had somehow gotten wind of the deal and used her connections to ruin it out of spite. The thought was both terrifying and darkly satisfying.
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Kendall," she said, her voice a perfect mask of confusion. "Maybe your business partners just realized who they were dealing with."
"Carma, it's not what you think," Kendall said quickly, panic edging into his voice. "This is business. Don't make it personal."
"You made it personal on our anniversary," Carma said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Go back to your business, Kendall." She ended the call and blocked the new number. She dropped the phone like it was on fire.
Emily came out of the kitchen, holding a pizza box. She took one look at Carma's face and dropped the box on the table. "What? What did he do?"
"He's scrambling," Carma whispered. "The deal for my graphic novel fell through. He thinks I sabotaged him."
"Good," Emily said, her face flushing red. "Let him think that. Let him squirm. I'm going to drive to his house and cut the brakes on his Porsche."
"Don't." Carma wrapped her arms around herself. "I just want to sleep. I want to turn my brain off for a few hours."
Before Emily could respond, Carma's laptop chimed from the coffee table. A video call request from "Babette Meyer."
Carma hesitated. Babette was someone Carma had met at a charity gala two years ago—back when Carma was still trying to play the part of a supportive wife. Babette had never been told about the marriage; she had pieced it together from tabloid whispers and Kendall's evasive schedule.
Carma had never confirmed anything, but tonight she was too tired to keep up the lie.Carma needed a friendly face.
She hit accept.
Babette's face filled the screen. She was wearing a silk robe, her makeup flawless even at home. "Carma, honey! Emily just texted me. Oh my god, are you okay? I'm getting on the next flight out."
Carma forced a smile. "I'm surviving. I left him."
"You left him? Good!" Babette's voice was fierce, her eyes flashing with genuine-looking anger. "That son of a bitch. I'm going to ruin him. I'll call my father's lawyers. We will bury him, Carma. You won't have to lift a finger."
Carma hesitated. She knew Babette’s father was a New York power broker—but she also knew Babette hadn’t spoken to him in six months. “I appreciate it, Babette. Really. But I’ve already hired my own lawyer. Camille Vasquez.”
Babette’s eyes widened. “Camille? How can you—never mind. That’s even better. But my offer stands. If you need the big guns, you know where to find me.”
Emily, sitting out of the camera's view, nodded in approval at the screen.
"I'm sure," Carma said. "He wants a divorce. He made that very clear."
"I know, I know," Babette said, waving a manicured hand dismissively. "Let him want it. We're going to make him pay for it. He thinks he can just throw you away? No. You are brilliant and strong and you deserve the world. Don't you dare let him make you feel small. You hear me?"
"I hear you," Carma repeated, the words a balm on her raw nerves.
"Good," Babette said, her voice softening. "Listen, I have to run to an early meeting, but I'm booking a ticket for this afternoon. I'll be there by tonight. We'll order takeout, we'll drink wine, and we'll plot his demise. Don't sign anything. Don't talk to him. Just wait for me. Okay?"
A smart girl. A strong girl. The opposite of what Kendall had called her.
Carma felt a wave of relief. The one person she thought would understand, did. More than understood, she was ready for war. "Okay, Babette. I'll see you tonight."
"I'll be there, sweetie. Stay strong."
Carma closed the laptop lid. The silence in the room was heavy.
Emily stood up. "Okay, I like her. She's got the right attitude."
"She's the best," Carma muttered, the words feeling true. She felt a little less alone. The world was still closing in, but now she had an army at her back.
"I'm going to bed," Carma said, her voice flat. "I can't think anymore."
She walked into the guest room and shut the door. She leaned against it, her chest heaving. She needed an escape. Just for a few hours.
She opened her duffel bag—the same one she had arrived with, though she had added a few things over the years. Near the bottom, her fingers brushed against an orange prescription bottle.
The label was faded. Her doctor had given her Ambien a year ago, after a stretch of sleepless nights. She had taken it once without any problem. Tonight, she didn't care about risks.
She twisted the cap off and shook a single pill into her palm. She dry-swallowed it, then crawled under the covers.
She closed her eyes, waiting for the fog of sleep to pull her under. Instead, a strange heat began to spread through her veins. Her skin started to itch. Then burn.
She gasped, her eyes snapping open. The room was blurring. Her throat was swelling shut. She tried to call out for Emily, but no sound came.
This wasn't sleep. This was something else entirely.
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7.0
Obsessed with her sister's best friend, Cassandra orchestrates a desperate scheme to trap Hades into marriage through a pregnancy he never wanted. But her dream quickly turns into a cold, domestic hell. Hades remains hopelessly in love with her sister, Klare, treating Cassandra with nothing but venom and disdain.
Can love really come after marriage? Or will it bring nothing but pain?
If you have a second chance at building your life again, will you take it or risk on a second chance?
8.3
I lost my memory. Or rather, I faked it.
Conrad Gallagher, the boyfriend I had been secretly dating for five years, effortlessly erased our entire relationship.
"You're only fit to be a casual hookup."
Then, he announced his engagement to a woman approved by his parents.
To save myself from utter humiliation, I faked amnesia, conveniently forgetting no one but Conrad.
But when it was time for me to get married, Conrad regretted it. He kidnapped me right out of my wedding and spirited me away: "Don't marry him, okay?"
8.8
Scarlet's world shattered the night she discovered her husband in her bed with her own sister.
The betrayal was brutal. The humiliation, unforgivable. And what hurt the most? Neither of them felt a single ounce of remorse.
Within months, her husband divorced her and married the very woman who helped destroy her life, her sister.
They thought she would break. They thought she would disappear quietly.
They were wrong.
Ryan Marchetti-cold, calculating, and dangerously powerful, has spent years waiting for the perfect chance to destroy his business rival. Marrying that rival's ex-wife is the ultimate move. Strategic.
For Scarlet, marrying Ryan isn't about love. It's about revenge.
A calculated alliance. A public statement. A promise that she will rise from the ashes they left her in. Together, they become the scandal that shakes empires.
But revenge is never simple.
Because behind Ryan's icy control lies a secret, one tied to her past, to her ex-husband, to the very marriage that ruined her life. A truth so explosive it could unravel everything she thought she knew.
Was she just a pawn in Ryan's war from the very beginning?
Or is the man she's slowly falling for capable of betraying her too?
In a game fueled by vengeance, power, and buried truths, Scarlet must decide:
Will she let betrayal destroy her again...
Or will she risk her heart for the one man who might truly love her?
9.6
My world revolved around Jax Harding, my older brother's captivating rockstar friend.
From sixteen, I adored him; at eighteen, I clung to his casual promise: "When you're 22, maybe I'll settle down."
That offhand comment became my life's beacon, guiding every choice, meticulously planning my twenty-second birthday as our destiny.
But on that pivotal day in a Lower East Side bar, clutching my gift, my dream exploded.
I overheard Jax' s cold voice: "Can't believe Savvy's showing up. She' s still hung up on that stupid thing I said."
Then the crushing plot: "We' re gonna tell Savvy I' m engaged to Chloe, maybe even hint she' s pregnant. That should scare her off."
My gift, my future, slipped from my numb fingers.
I fled into the cold New York rain, devastated by betrayal.
Later, Jax introduced Chloe as his "fiancée" while his bandmates mocked my "adorable crush"-he did nothing.
As an art installation fell, he saved Chloe, abandoning me to severe injury.
In the hospital, he came for "damage control," then shockingly shoved me into a fountain, leaving me to bleed, calling me a "jealous psycho."
How could the man I loved, who once saved me, become this cruel and publicly humiliate me?
Why was my devotion seen as an annoyance to be brutally extinguished with lies and assault?
Was I just a problem, my loyalty met with hatred?
I would not be his victim.
Injured and betrayed, I made an unshakeable vow: I was done.
I blocked his number and everyone connected to him, severing ties.
This was not an escape; this was my rebirth.
Florence awaited, a new life on my terms, unburdened by broken promises.
7.2
Talia Morgan is a broke final-year medical student with one nightmare she cannot escape - her mother is dying, and the hospital bills are impossible to pay.
Just when all hope is lost, she receives an unbelievable offer: a one-year contract marriage to billionaire tech CEO Adrian Blackwood... in exchange for $50,000.
No love.
No intimacy.
No emotions.
Just rules and signatures.
Adrian needs a wife to secure his inheritance. Talia needs money to save her mother. The deal is simple.
Until it isn't.
Living under the same roof with a cold, dangerously attractive billionaire brings unexpected complications:
• His jealous ex refuses to disappear
• His family starts to love her
• And every touch, every glance, begins to feel less like a contract and more like a promise
When Talia discovers she may be carrying the one man she was never supposed to love, the contract threatens to destroy everything.
8.4
I had just been brutally fired from my corporate firm, stripped of my career and dignity in a matter of minutes.
Before I could even process the loss, I was handed a brown envelope that shattered my reality. My billionaire sister, who had ruthlessly cut me out of her life fifteen years ago, had committed suicide.
She left behind a fifteen-year-old son I never knew existed, a $300 million trust, and a $3 million stipend for me to act as his guardian. But her suicide note contained a terrifying, desperate warning scrawled in tearing ink.
"DO NOT INVESTIGATE MY DEATH. Accept what I've given you. Protect my son. Forget I existed."
I met the boy, Elon. He crashed his bike into me on the street, bleeding and crying, begging me not to abandon him. Pity and fifteen years of guilt overwhelmed me. I sat in the sprawling office of her elite estate lawyer and signed my life away to protect this innocent, grieving child.
Why did my sister suddenly reach out after a decade and a half of cold silence? What kind of monster was she running from that drove her to such a desperate end? I thought I was honoring her final wish by taking the boy in.
But as the elevator doors were closing, I caught their reflection in the polished steel.
My terrified, weeping nephew stopped crying instantly. He turned and exchanged a chilling, imperceptible nod with the lawyer.
That silent look said everything. The first move was complete.
I hadn't just inherited a child. I had walked straight into a meticulously planned trap.