The Unwanted Wife's Spectacular Billionaire Comeback
To the world, I was the perfect, placid wife of Giovanni Baldwin, the King of Wall Street.
But at the pinnacle of New York's social calendar, he deliberately flicked his wrist, splashing his red wine all over my white silk gown to publicly humiliate me.
When we got back to the penthouse, he shoved me to the cold marble floor in front of a life-sized portrait of his dead lover. His fingers wrapped around my throat as he ordered me to clean up the stain like a servant. To break me entirely, he froze my accounts, aggressively targeted my secret fashion company, and heavily sedated my disabled brother to maintain legal control over him.
When his dead lover's sister committed massive corporate fraud, Giovanni ruthlessly framed me for the crime, forcing me to stand before flashing cameras and take the fall just to keep her out of prison.
Looking at his triumphant smile backstage, the last ember of the girl I used to be turned to ash. I finally understood that our marriage was nothing but a hostile contract, and I was just a disposable scapegoat for his endless grief.
"This is no longer about escaping. This is about justice."
I took off my wedding ring, liquidated every cent of my hidden personal assets, and ordered my team to launch a ruthless hostile takeover of his entire empire.
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Chapter 7
The cab dropped Edith off at the grand entrance of the Plaza Hotel. The Dakota Ayala Foundation was hosting its annual fundraising gala, an event Edith, as Mrs. Baldwin, could not avoid. It was the kind of place where wealthy families laundered their reputations with charity.
Edith walked up to the front desk. "I'm here to see Milo Snider."
The receptionist, a woman with a tight bun and an even tighter smile, tapped away at her keyboard. "And you are?"
"His sister. Edith Woods."
The woman's smile faltered. "I'm sorry, ma'am. Visitation requires the approval of the legal guardian, Mr. Alistair Stephenson."
Edith took a deep breath and stepped onto the red carpet. She wore a simple, elegant black gown of her own design-understated, but flawless. A suit of armor.
The ballroom was a sea of jewels and fake smiles. She felt hundreds of eyes on her, whispering, judging. The unworthy replacement for the sainted Dakota.
"Milo," Edith called out softly as she approached.
He didn't react. She walked around to the front of his chair and knelt down. His eyes were glassy, unfocused. A thin line of drool escaped the corner of his mouth.
Panic seized her. She took his hand. It was limp, completely devoid of strength. She looked at his arm and saw the faint, bruised puncture mark in the crook of his elbow.
They were drugging him. Alistair was keeping him sedated, turning him into a vegetable.
"Kassandra Ayala, radiant as ever, was holding court by the grand staircase. Giovanni was at her side, a dark, handsome shadow.
"Edith," Kassandra said, her voice dripping with false sweetness as Edith approached. "You came. I'm so glad you're supporting Dakota's legacy."
Edith's heart shattered. She pressed her forehead against his knee, tears burning her eyes. "Of course," she whispered fiercely. "It's a wonderful cause."
She stormed back inside and cornered a nurse. "Why is he so heavily sedated? He's supposed to be in physical therapy!"
The nurse gave her a placating smile. "Mr. Snider gets agitated easily. The medication is for his own safety, as per Dr. Frye's orders and Mr. Stephenson's instructions."
Kassandra's smile was a weapon. Giovanni's presence was a weight on her chest. She couldn't fight them here. They were on their home turf. She had to get out, had to find another way.
She excused herself, the anger burning a hole in her gut. She needed to find her contact, a key investor she was trying to win over for Dreamscape Atelier.
She made her way through the crowd, her eyes scanning for her target.
As she walked down the corridor of the VIP wing toward the exit, she heard a familiar voice.
"Giovanni, I feel so dizzy."
Edith froze. She pressed herself against the wall, peering around the corner.
In a private suite, the door left ajar, Giovanni Baldwin was crouching down in front of a plush armchair. His face was a mask of tender concern, his hand gently stroking the hair of the woman sitting in it.
Kassandra Ayala. She looked pale and fragile, a delicate flower wilting under the strain. She leaned into Giovanni's touch, her eyes fluttering.
"The doctor said my heart condition is getting worse because of all the stress," Kassandra whimpered, her voice trembling.
Giovanni's expression hardened for a fraction of a second before softening again. "It's my fault," he said, his voice low and soothing. "I shouldn't have let the Woods get near you again. I'll handle Edith. You just focus on getting better."
Edith watched the display, a bitter taste filling her mouth. Kassandra Ayala, the woman who was manipulating her husband's grief, was playing the victim in a luxury suite. Her family, the true victims of the Baldwins' machinations, were being vilified.
The hypocrisy was staggering. The man who had destroyed her life for this woman was now cooing over a fake heart condition.
Edith didn't feel sad. She didn't feel jealous. She felt a cold, calculating rage settle over her like armor. Giovanni didn't care about truth or justice. He only cared about the narrative that suited him.
She turned and walked away, her footsteps silent on the plush carpet. She wouldn't beg anymore. She wouldn't plead. She would fight.
She stepped out into the dazzling ballroom, pulling out her phone. She opened a browser and typed in a search: "Cristobal Cruz, CEO of OmniCorp."
The results populated. She scrolled past the big firms, the ones Giovanni probably owned. Her eyes caught a name near the top. A woman she knew. A woman who didn't back down from a fight.
The search result showed his current location: The St. Regis bar, two blocks away.
Edith tapped the number. It was time to go to war.
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9.0
Adaline Poole thought she had escaped her family's toxic corporate grip by moving to London and adopting a stray cat named Monty.
But when she returns to her empty apartment, her father delivers a chilling ultimatum: he has kidnapped the cat and will euthanize it by morning unless she accepts an arranged marriage with Barron Cooke, a notoriously elusive billionaire.
Her entire family becomes complicit in her sale. Her mother demands she secure their elite status, and her brother secretly spies on her social media to feed Barron her every move. Horrified to discover Barron is a thirty-three-year-old "fossil" twelve years her senior, Adaline resorts to sabotage. She goes to a Soho club, takes a scandalous photo with a frat boy, and sends it to the old billionaire to disgust him into canceling their upcoming dinner.
But her rebellion backfires horribly when the frat boy spikes her drink with a powerful narcotic. As her body burns with a terrifying, feverish heat, she collapses in a dark corridor. Stripped of her phone and betrayed by her bloodline, she is left utterly defenseless as a predator approaches to drag her away.
Suddenly, the heavy fire door is kicked open by a towering, terrifyingly handsome stranger who effortlessly neutralizes her attacker.
"Please... help me," Adaline begs, deliriously throwing her burning body into his arms.
She has absolutely no idea that the handsome savior she is clinging to is Barron Cooke himself.
9.5
My husband, Colton, the Wall Street mogul, slid annulment papers across the table, coldly discarding me and our unborn child. He thought he was getting rid of a useless wife, but he was actually throwing away the secret architect of his entire empire. Now, I'm ready to make him pay for every insult, every lie, and every single secret I've kept.
For three years, eight months pregnant, I secretly saved Colton's ten-billion-dollar company from collapse, enduring a cold, transactional marriage.
One night, he shattered that illusion, serving annulment papers and callously discarding me and our unborn child.
I signed, leaving luxury behind. Exposing his butler's fraud, I escaped. Colton later found his wedding ring gone and, on his desk, my SEC compliance fixes—proof I was his hidden genius.
Blindsided, he realized he’d destroyed his own empire. His mother then called, gloating. The injustice ignited a fierce resolve within me.
The next morning, I launched Kidd Legal Consulting. I'd use forty-seven folders of Farmer Capital's un-patched loopholes to force a fair settlement, securing my daughter's future.
8.6
As the eldest daughter of the Sharp family, I was treated worse than a stray dog, while my younger sister Seraphina was their precious princess.
When the family needed someone to marry a dying billionaire heir, they naturally chose me to take her place.
To force my consent, my brothers held a peanut butter sandwich to my face—knowing it was a lethal allergy—while dangling my EpiPen just out of reach.
On speakerphone, my own mother sighed in annoyance.
"Let her die. It might be for the best."
I choked out an agreement just as my throat closed up. But the forced engagement broke my sacred mystical vow, causing me to violently cough up my own lifeblood.
Seeing the blood, Seraphina dramatically fainted. My brothers instantly carried her to the hospital, stepping over my dying body and leaving me to bleed out on the cold marble floor.
I had to use a forbidden blood rune, draining my last ounce of strength, just to survive the night.
Even the mystical Order I served offered no comfort, calling only to demand I secure ten billion dollars for them or forfeit my soul for eternity.
Abandoned by my blood family and my spiritual master, I was completely alone, left with nothing but a broken body and a ticking clock.
But they made one fatal mistake: they let me live.
I turned to the dying heir they forced me to marry, a man plagued by a dark curse only I could cure.
"I will be your wife, and I will save your life," I told him.
In exchange, I would use his unimaginable wealth and power to make everyone who threw me away pay the ultimate price.
7.8
On the day she married, Alina unknowingly took the place of the Hayes family's daughter and became Kellan's wife, the richest man in town who was rumored to be disfigured.
Everyone mocked their doomed marriage, expecting misery and disgrace.
Instead, Alina revealed brilliance no one expected-a renowned jewelry master, financial genius, and medical prodigy.
The woman the Hayes family ignored was actually the heiress they should have treasured.
As regret consumed them and her ex begged for another chance, Kellan stood beside her, now devastatingly handsome.
"Alina and I are perfect together. Stay away from my 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."
7.7
Dasia's twin brother, Gerald, was an e-sports prodigy, the rising star of the Glory team.
But during a crucial moment, he was framed by his own teammates. They orchestrated a trap that completely destroyed his reputation and left his right hand brutally crushed.
Instead of getting him medical help, the club threw him out into the freezing rain, bleeding and disgraced. The manager labeled him useless trash and slapped him with a five-million-dollar termination fee to bleed him dry. Stripped of his pro status, the wealthy bullies at his prep school relentlessly targeted him, mocking his crippled hand and beating him down.
Dasia watched her twin brother cry in his room, his life and dreams shattered by the people he trusted. A violent, suffocating rage boiled in her chest. How could they smile while crushing his hand? Why should the victim be treated like a rotting piece of garbage while the perpetrators get rich and celebrated?
She didn't shed a single tear. She stood in front of the mirror, took a pair of scissors, and ruthlessly hacked off her waist-length hair. She wrapped her chest in coarse medical bandages until her ribs screamed, and pulled on his oversized black hoodie.
"Everything you took from him, I am going to take back with interest."
The girl in the mirror was gone. She was Gerald now. She secretly passed the brutal online tryouts for Glory's biggest rival, the elite Blackflame team, and signed their official contract. The revenge had officially begun.