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 7
The hospital room was quiet except for the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor. Emily had gone to get coffee, her face still etched with guilt. Carma lay in the bed, staring at the IV drip in her arm, wishing she could rip it out and run.
The door clicked open.
Carma expected a nurse. Instead, Kendall Kirby walked in. He was wearing a baseball cap pulled low and dark sunglasses, looking like a cliché of a celebrity trying to hide.
He stopped at the foot of the bed, his lip curling in disgust. "Well, you really did it this time, didn't you?"
Carma pushed herself up against the pillows, her body screaming in protest. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm doing damage control," Kendall snapped, pulling off his sunglasses. His eyes were cold. "Imagine my surprise when I get a call from my lawyer saying my wife is in the ER after a suicide attempt. Are you trying to ruin me?"
"I didn't attempt suicide," Carma said, her voice weak but firm. "It was an allergic reaction."
"Right." Kendall scoffed, walking closer to the bed. "A convenient allergy. You're pathetic, Carma. You think swallowing a bottle of pills is going to make me change my mind? It just makes you look desperate."
The words hit her like a slap. She had almost died. And the only thing he cared about was his image.
"You think I did this for you?" she asked, a bitter laugh escaping her lips.
"I know you did," Kendall said, leaning over her. "And it's not going to work. You can threaten me with lawyers, you can try to kill yourself, but I am not staying married to you. Not for a second longer."
He paused, his eyes narrowing. "You know, I used to feel sorry for you. The poor little orphan from Ohio. But now I see you for what you really are. You're just like your mother. A weak, pathetic drunk who would rather die in a ditch than take responsibility for her own life."
The air left the room.
Carma's mother had died in a car accident when Carma was sixteen. She had been driving home from a double shift. She was tired. She was not a drunk. Kendall knew that. He had heard the story a hundred times. And he was using it to hurt her.
Something inside Carma snapped.
The grief, the humiliation, the fear-it all burned away, leaving nothing but pure, white-hot rage.
She sat up straight, ignoring the pain that lanced through her chest. She grabbed the IV needle in her arm and yanked it out.
Blood spurted from the vein, dripping onto the white sheets.
"Carma, what the hell are you-" Kendall stepped back, his eyes wide.
She didn't stop. She threw the blankets off and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her bare feet hit the cold linoleum floor. She stood up, swaying slightly, but her eyes never left his face.
"Say that again," she whispered, her voice shaking with fury. "Say that about my mother again."
Kendall recovered his composure, sneering at her. "What? The truth hurts? Your cheap little act doesn't work on me, Carma. You're nothing but a worthless charity case."
Carma smiled. It was a terrifying, hollow smile. Tears streamed down her face, but she was laughing.
"You're right, Kendall," she said, her voice rising. "I shouldn't have tried to kill myself. That would be too easy on you."
She took a step toward him, her blood dripping onto the floor. Kendall actually flinched.
"I'm going to live," she said, her eyes burning into his. "I'm going to live, and I'm going to thrive, and I am going to watch you fall. I'm going to watch everyone realize that the great Kendall Kirby is a fraud. And when you're lying in the gutter, I'm going to walk right over you."
Kendall stared at her, his face pale. He had never seen this look in her eyes before. She wasn't the quiet, compliant wife anymore. She was a stranger, and she was dangerous.
"You came here because you're scared," Carma continued, stepping even closer. "You're scared that I'm going to tell the world what a monster you are. You should be. But you should be scared of so much more. You have no idea what you've thrown away, Kendall. You're going to find out that the 'stain' you despise was the only thing holding your gilded cage together. Now get out."
Kendall's phone rang in his pocket, the shrill tone breaking the tension. He fumbled to answer it, his eyes still on Carma. It was Marcus, his agent, screaming about the Xen deal falling apart.
Kendall backed away toward the door, his face a mask of shock and fear. He turned and practically ran out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him.
He stormed down the hallway, his mind racing. He had to get out of there. He had to think. He rounded the corner at a fast clip, his head down, and slammed right into a solid wall of muscle and cotton.
Papers exploded into the air. A metal clipboard clattered to the floor.
"Watch where you're going," Kendall snapped, rubbing his shoulder.
The man he had collided with looked up. He was tall, wearing scrubs. He had dark hair and cold, piercing blue eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses. He was holding a now-empty coffee cup, the lid popped off.
Dr. Arvel Hurst stared at the man who had just knocked his charts out of his hands. He recognized him instantly. Kendall Kirby. The actor. The husband of the woman in room 402.
Arvel had heard the shouting from down the hall. He had heard the words "pathetic" and "drunk."
He pushed his glasses up his nose, his expression unreadable. "Mr. Kirby. I suggest you watch your tone. And your speed. This is a hospital, not a red carpet."
Kendall glared at him, then pushed past, disappearing down the stairwell.
Arvel watched him go, a strange feeling settling in his gut. He bent down to pick up his scattered papers. The woman in 402 was an overdose. A desperate housewife. That was the story.
But the man who had just run into him didn't look like a grieving husband. He looked like a bully.
Arvel frowned, stacking the charts. Maybe he had missed something.
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7.3
I found out my husband of three years had cheated on me and his mistress is the one who told me-because he didn't have the balls to do it himself.
I move out and get a new apartment, a job as a bartender, and try to move on with a broken heart. I wonder where it all went wrong, if I hadn't been enough for him, if I'd been stupid for marrying him in the first place.
I'm at work one night when he walks inside-the most beautiful man I've ever seen. He sits at the bar and a forest fire burns between us. I was depressed the moment before he entered, but the second I look at his blue eyes, I forget the dumpster fire that my life has become. I invite him back to my place and it's the most passionate night of my life. I expect to never see him again.
I just want him as an anti-depressant-but he wants me all to himself. I just got my heart ripped out of my chest so I want something easy and no-strings-attached, but he wants all the strings because he's hooked.
I don't get much of a say in the matter, and that's not surprising when I learn why-because he's the Butcher. The crime lord of all crime lords, the boss that overshadows all of Paris, that makes everyone abide by his rules-or pay.
And now I'm his.
8.1
At sterlinggate university, only one rule matters:
Monsters do not belong.
Yuna never meant to become one.
After being publicly humiliated by her boyfriend , Yuna's emotions spiral out of control, she had a tough encounter with her bully, Megan, triggering a secret she was never meant to awaken. She isn't just a werewolf.
She is a kitsune.
A nine-tailed fox believed to be extinct.
A creature every wolf has been trained to hunt.
When her transformation is exposed, the university goes into lockdown. Hunters flood the campus. Silver charms are distributed. And one order is made clear:
"Kill the kitsune".
The only person willing to protect her is Noah Phillips,the star wolf of the university... and the son of the chief hunter leading the execution.
As danger closes in and her powers grow harder to control, Yuna must choose:
hide and survive, or rise and fight back.
Because if the wolves discover the truth...
They won't just kill her.
They'll start a war.
7.6
When the Pollard family kicked Alyssa out into the freezing rain, Walter threw a ten-thousand-dollar check into a dirty puddle.
"Take it and get out. Don't ever come back," he sneered.
Her adoptive mother and stepsister stood on the mansion's porch, mocking her as a worthless country girl who tarnished their wealthy name. They laughed, claiming she wouldn't even be able to afford community college and would be begging on the streets in a week.
They looked at her cheap clothes and worn backpack with absolute disgust.
They were completely unaware that for the past five years, Alyssa was the secret mastermind who had built their failing gallery into a multi-million-dollar investment empire.
Every key investment, every fortune they made, came from the anonymous notes she had slipped into their unread books. They genuinely believed they were business geniuses, while treating the true architect of their wealth like a stray dog.
Looking at their smug, arrogant faces, Alyssa didn't feel a shred of sadness, only a cold, sharp irony.
They actually believed they had raised her.
She stepped close, whispered the master code to Walter's most secret offshore account, and watched the blood completely drain from his face.
"I raised you," she said, turning her back on the mansion without hesitation.
Walking into the storm, she pulled out a heavily encrypted phone and gave a single, cold order.
"Initiate a full hostile takeover of the Pollard Group."
It was time to end this little game and step into her true life—as the world's most elusive medical genius, and the long-lost billionaire heiress of the Summers dynasty.
9.0
"You and your baby are mine whether you want it or not."
Renata Neroni's life was shattered the moment she discovered her boyfriend and stepsister's betrayal. In a rare lapse of judgment fueled by grief and alcohol, she spent a single, anonymous night with a stranger, unaware that she had just surrendered herself to Domenico Veronesi, the most formidable figure in the global underworld.
That night left Renata with more than just a memory; she was pregnant with the heir to a mafia empire.
As her father, desperate to free himself from the debts, prepares to marry her off to a man nearly his own age, Renata finds herself trapped. Her only escape arrives in the form of Domenico himself. Asserting his claim, he interrupts the arrangement and brings Renata to his secluded estate.
Within the fortified walls of the Veronesi estate, the man known for his cold, merciless exterior reveals a singular obsession: the protection of Renata and their unborn child.
However, Domenico's readiness to provide is met with a wall of ice.
Despite his efforts to provide for her, Renata's resentment initially hardens into a wall of silence.
To her, Domenico is simply another powerful man attempting to control her fate. However, as she is forced to navigate the inner workings of his life within the mafia world, she begins to see the man behind the fearsome reputation.
Renata discovers the deeper layers of Domenico, a loyalty and a hidden vulnerability regarding their child, and the fear that once defined her begins to dissolve.
8.0
My sister Rosalie always played the role of my gentle protector. On the night of my engagement, she insisted I take a secluded canyon road for my own safety.
In my past life, I didn't know it was a deadly trap. I fell for the staged ambush and the rival mobster, Julian, who took a fake bullet to "save" me.
Because of my blind trust, my entire Falcone bloodline was annihilated overnight. My father was beheaded, my brothers were gunned down, and my sweet little sister was left to die in a filthy alley. I was even brainwashed into betraying my new husband, Damien Moretti. I shot the only man who truly protected me right through the heart, just before Rosalie drowned me in a freezing lake, laughing as she confessed she was just a bastard child stealing my life.
When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very night my nightmare began. I was trapped in a penthouse, a lethal drug melting my sanity, pinned beneath Damien. But after he brutally sweat the poison out of my veins, he didn't look at me with love. He handed me a Plan B pill with a gaze full of ancient, chilling hatred.
"Swallow it," he commanded, his voice a sheet of ice.
He remembers. The Dark Don remembers the past life where I murdered him. But this time, I won't be a pawn. I wiped the blood of my traitorous maid from my hands, ready to drag my fake sister straight to hell.
9.1
The heavy oak doors of the Crane estate splintered under the battering ram. Annetta was just putting her five-year-old daughter to sleep when the SWAT team stormed the nursery.
They told her that her husband, Major Alek Crane, was killed in action overseas. But instead of a hero's funeral, he was branded a national traitor, and the feds were seizing every penny of their wealth.
Lead investigator Issac Rocha dragged Alek's charred remains into the grand hall just to mock him. He stripped Annetta of her wedding band, confiscated her winter coat, and officially exiled her, her daughter, and her hostile mother-in-law to a freezing Appalachian death zone. In the federal holding cell, the extended family turned on Annetta, calling her a cheap commoner and leaving her to shiver on the concrete floor. They were dumped in an abandoned mining town with nothing but canvas jumpsuits to die in the snow.
Annetta knew Alek was framed in a ruthless political hit. Issac Rocha wanted them to rot in the mud and freeze to death, completely forgotten by the world.
"We are going to live, and we are going to burn Issac Rocha to the ground."
But Issac made one fatal mistake. He didn't know the quiet, submissive daughter-in-law had spent the last three years secretly building a military-grade doomsday bunker right in the heart of that very mountain. Stepping past the freezing mud, Annetta initiated the biometric scan, and the massive steel blast doors slowly swung open.