The Unwanted Wife Demands A Divorce
I married the ruthless billionaire Dorman Cannon to save my family's business. For two years, I played the perfect, invisible wife in a cold, loveless marriage.
But the day my sister Cierra—his ex-fiancée—returned from Europe, the illusion shattered. A private investigator sent me a photo: Dorman walking into her hotel room at the exact time he claimed to be in a board meeting.
I packed my bags and demanded a divorce. Instead of apologizing, Dorman pinned me against the bedroom wall. Right in front of me, he made a single phone call to freeze my father's credit line, instantly triggering a liquidity crisis that would bankrupt my family.
"You are my wife. You are not going anywhere."
He then tossed a record-breaking Cartier diamond necklace at my feet, like a pacifier for a misbehaving child.
I smashed the multimillion-dollar piece to the marble floor, screaming that I wasn't just an asset on his balance sheet. But he only stared at the scattered diamonds with terrifying indifference, completely unfazed by my despair.
I didn't understand. If he wanted Cierra so badly, why was he holding my family hostage just to keep me trapped in this gilded cage?
Sitting on the cold floor surrounded by broken diamonds, my tears finally stopped. Since he refused to let me leave quietly, I would just have to tear his perfect empire down from the inside.
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Chapter 7
The sound of the shower running behind the locked door was like water torture. Every drop was a reminder that he was in there, washing her sister's perfume off his skin, while she stood out here, trapped and humiliated.
Adina didn't move. She didn't go to the guest room. She didn't unpack her bag. She walked over to Dorman's side of the bed-the side with the navy blue silk sheets that were always perfectly made-and sat down.
She pulled out her phone. The screen was filled with texts from Arely.
Arely Cross: Are you okay?
Arely Cross: Did he hurt you?
Arely Cross: Addie, please answer me.
Adina typed back with trembling fingers: I'm fine. I'm handling it.
She put the phone down and waited. Five minutes. Ten minutes. The shower shut off. The silence stretched, thick and tense.
Finally, the bathroom door opened. Dorman stepped out, a black silk robe tied loosely at his waist, his hair damp and slicked back from his face. He looked like a panther, sleek and dangerous, even in loungewear.
He stopped short when he saw her sitting on his bed. His eyes narrowed, a flash of irritation crossing his features. "I thought I made myself clear."
"You did," Adina said, standing up. She pulled the towel tighter around herself, refusing to feel vulnerable. "And so did I. I'm not dropping this, Dorman. I want a divorce."
He walked past her, picking up a towel to dry the ends of his hair. "There is no divorce. There is only a contract that you are bound to fulfill."
"This isn't a contract!" Adina shouted, her voice bouncing off the high ceilings. "This is my life! You treat me like a piece of furniture, Dorman. You ignore me for months, and the second your ex-girlfriend steps off a plane, you run straight to her hotel!"
Dorman stopped drying his hair. He tossed the towel onto a chair and turned to face her, his expression hardening. "Cierra has nothing to do with this."
"She has everything to do with this!" Adina took a step closer, jabbing a finger in his direction. "You think I'm stupid? You think I don't know why you really skipped dinner tonight?"
Dorman's eyes turned to ice. "I skipped dinner because I have a company to run. A company, I might add, that is the only thing keeping your family from bankruptcy."
"Don't change the subject!" Adina screamed, the control she had been clinging to finally snapping. "You were with her! I can still smell her on you!"
Dorman went very still. The silence in the room was absolute, broken only by the sound of Adina's ragged breathing.
"You're being hysterical," he said softly, the words dripping with condescension. "You're projecting your own insecurities onto a situation you know nothing about."
"I know you were at The Carlyle!" she yelled, the words spilling out before she could stop them. "I know you were with her this afternoon!"
Dorman didn't flinch. He didn't look surprised or guilty. He just stared at her, his face an unreadable wall. Then, a cold, mocking smile touched his lips. "Your sources are impressively fast. But your conclusions are wrong."
"Wrong?" Adina laughed, the sound brittle and harsh. "You're a liar, Dorman. You're a cold, calculating liar, and I'm done playing the dutiful wife."
She turned on her heel and marched toward her suitcase. She grabbed the handle, intent on walking out that door and never looking back.
She barely made it two steps.
A hand clamped around her wrist like a vise. The grip was tight, unyielding, the pressure immediate and bruising. Adina gasped, dropping the suitcase handle as she was spun around.
Dorman yanked her backward, pulling her flush against his chest. His other arm wrapped around her waist, pinning her arms to her sides. He was breathing hard, his chest heaving against her back, his face inches from hers.
"I said," he growled into her ear, his voice no longer calm but rough and dangerous, "we are not discussing divorce."
Adina struggled, trying to twist out of his grip, but he was too strong. His arm was like a steel band across her ribs. Panic flared in her chest, mixing with the anger.
"Let me go!" she shrieked, kicking her legs. "You can't keep me here!"
"Watch me," he snarled.
He walked her backward, his long strides forcing her to stumble, until her back hit the cold, hard surface of the bedroom wall. He pinned her there, his hands flat against the wall on either side of her head, caging her in.
He was so close she could feel the heat radiating off his skin. His eyes were dark, turbulent pools, swirling with an emotion she couldn't name. It looked like rage. It looked like fear. It looked like something desperate and wild.
"You are my wife," he said, his voice low and intense. "You are not going anywhere."
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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.
8.1
Terminally ill.
Betrayed by her husband.
Abandoned by the only family she had.
Ariel died with nothing... and no one.
But fate gives her a second chance.
Reborn three years before her death, she walks away from the man who ruined her life-and takes back everything they stole.
Her love.
Her identity.
Her power.
Now, the cold billionaire who once ignored her can't take his eyes off her.
The brother who abandoned her starts to regret.
Too late.
Because this time, Ariel isn't the woman who begs.
She's the one who makes them kneel.
7.1
For seven years, I hid my identity as a wealthy heiress to be with my boyfriend, Ewing. I followed him across the country and made myself small so he could feel big.
On Thanksgiving, he ditched our celebration for his first love, Bree, who supposedly had a "burst pipe."
Later, she posted an intimate selfie with him, calling him her "hero."
Then she sent me a video of him at a bar, laughing with his friends.
"She's just being dramatic," he slurred, smirking at the camera. "A new necklace and she'll forget all about it. She's easy."
Easy. Seven years of my life, my love, my sacrifice-all reduced to that one word. I realized I was never his partner. I was just a placeholder.
I didn't cry. I packed my bags, booked a one-way flight to New York, and sent him one final text before blocking his number.
"Don't bother coming home. I'm getting married."
7.0
Eleanore thought her fiancé, Johan, was her only salvation after her family went bankrupt.
But at a high-society gala, he handed her a drugged glass of water. As the unnatural heat burned through her veins, the horrific truth hit her. Johan had isolated her and controlled her finances, all while secretly getting engaged to a wealthy heiress. He drugged Eleanore to ruin her completely, planning to lock her away as his helpless, secret mistress.
Desperate and losing her mind to the drug, Eleanore fled down the hallway. With Johan and his bodyguards hunting her, she stumbled into the dark presidential suite.
But she wasn't alone. Sitting on the leather sofa was Alexander Briggs—the most feared corporate raider on Wall Street, and Johan's exiled brother.
Outside the door, Johan was screaming, ready to drag her back to hell.
"I can be your antidote. But it's going to cost you."
The ruthless billionaire looked at her trembling body with cold calculation. He offered her a staggering deal: a three-month fake marriage to destroy Johan's empire, and in return, absolute protection and her father's massive debts paid in full.
She couldn't understand why the most powerful predator in New York would use a ruined girl as his weapon, but she knew she would rather die than let Johan touch her again.
When Johan finally broke down the door to claim his prey, Alexander calmly pulled Eleanore into his arms.
"Watch your mouth. You are speaking to my future wife."
9.2
Lainey spent her last life destroying herself for Larry, only to become the woman he discarded most cruelly. He never loved her, never wanted her, and made no secret that his first love still owned his heart.
On their wedding day, he abandoned Lainey at the altar for that woman, then later used Lainey as nothing more than a stepping stone for his company's rise. In the end, he even had her kidney ripped from her.
Reborn at the very moment everything began, Lainey called off the wedding without hesitation. But after losing her, Larry begged desperately.
Lainey shot him a cold look, then turned and walked straight into the arms of a powerful, aloof man, who stared down at Larry with pure contempt. "She's my wife now."
7.4
Alaya woke up in the sterile hospital room to a devastating reality: her six-month-old baby was gone, lost in a horrific car crash.
But as the memories crashed into her, she realized she had been reborn. She was back three years before her ultimate death, back to the moment she remembered lying bleeding on the asphalt while her husband, Hardy, shielded his mistress from the freezing rain.
When Hardy finally showed up at the ward, he coldly dismissed the crash as a mere accident and immediately left to comfort his young lover. To make matters worse, Alaya secretly checked her medical files and found a terrifying detail: someone had intentionally slipped beta-blockers into her system, a lethal drug for her transplanted heart. And Hardy didn't care about her dead baby or her irreversible infertility. He only coldly confirmed with the doctor that her heart was still viable.
A horrifying suspicion made Alaya's blood run cold. Why was her husband so obsessed with protecting her transplanted heart while treating her like garbage? And why was his perfectly healthy mistress secretly racking up massive bills at an advanced cardiac hospital?
Realizing she was nothing but a vessel in a twisted, deadly game, Alaya didn't shed another tear.
She packed her belongings, left her flawless diamond wedding ring on the cold marble table, and vanished from their penthouse.
When Hardy finally tracked her down, she threw a thick stack of documents onto the table.
"Sign the divorce papers," she said, her eyes completely dead.