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 9
Anya's apartment was a sanctuary. It smelled like takeout and expensive perfume samples, a smell that had always meant safety to Edith.
She was curled up on the sofa, a blanket pulled up to her chin, staring at nothing. Anya had found her outside Baldwin Tower, brought her back, and forced her to eat.
"It's going to be okay," Anya said, pacing the room. "His behavior today was outrageous. The press will have a field day. We'll use this in the hearing."
Edith didn't respond. She was numb. Begging hadn't worked. The law was too slow. She was out of options.
The next morning, Anya's phone started buzzing. Then Edith's burner phone. Then the TV in the living room, which Anya had left on for background noise.
"Breaking news this morning," the anchor said, his voice grave. "Baldwin Holdings is facing a major scandal. A subsidiary, Ayala Corp, is under investigation for using a charitable foundation to launder money and engage in insider trading."
Edith sat up, her eyes fixed on the screen. A photo of Kassandra Ayala flashed on the screen, followed by a blurry image of Edith being dragged out of Baldwin Tower yesterday.
"Sources indicate the leak came from within the family," the anchor continued. "Reports suggest that Giovanni Baldwin's estranged wife, Edith Woods, may have been involved in the scheme, using her access to profit from the trades."
"That's a lie!" Anya shouted at the TV. "He's framing you!"
Edith felt the blood drain from her face. It was a setup. Kassandra's family name was on the company, but Giovanni was shifting the blame to Edith. He was destroying her reputation to cover his tracks and punish her for her defiance.
An hour later, Anya received a call from Giovanni's legal team.
Anya put it on speaker. A smooth, male voice filled the room.
"Ms. Pham, we have a proposal for your client. If Mrs. Baldwin holds a press conference, taking responsibility for the regulatory oversight failure at Ayala Corp, Mr. Baldwin is willing to drop all charges. Furthermore, he will consider improving the medical care for her brother, Milo Snider."
Edith's hands curled into fists. "Consider?" she spat. "He wants me to take the fall for his dead girlfriend's family's crimes, and in return, he'll 'consider' not destroying my company?"
"It's a trap, Edith," Anya said, her voice tight. "If you admit guilt, you could go to jail. The SEC doesn't care about press conferences."
Edith thought of her team at Dreamscape, working tirelessly, their livelihoods on the line. She thought of the takeover notice for her supplier.
"I'll do it," she said.
Anya stared at her. "Edith, no."
"If I don't, he'll kill Dreamscape," Edith said, her voice hollow. "He'll buy up every supplier, poach every designer, until there's nothing left. I can't fight him from a jail cell, and I can't fight him if my company is dead."
The press conference was held that afternoon in the ballroom of the Baldwin Hotel. It was packed. Hundreds of reporters, cameras, blinding lights.
Edith walked out onto the stage alone. She wore a simple black dress, her hair pulled back, her face pale but composed. She looked like a woman going to her own execution.
She stepped up to the podium. The flashes were blinding, the noise deafening. She looked out at the sea of faces, all of them hungry for her destruction.
She pulled out the statement Giovanni's team had prepared. The words were lies, every single one of them.
"I take full responsibility for my oversight," she read, her voice flat and mechanical. "I deeply regret the damage caused to the shareholders and the company..."
Each word was a shard of glass in her throat. She was signing away her honor, her integrity, her future. She was becoming the villain they wanted her to be.
The questions came fast and furious. "Mrs. Baldwin, how much did you profit?" "Did your husband know?" "Are you wearing a wire?"
Edith ignored them all. She finished the statement, bowed her head slightly, and walked off the stage.
Backstage, the hallway was empty. But as she turned the corner, she saw them.
Giovanni was standing by a service door, his phone to his ear. A wide, genuine smile was on his face. A smile she had never seen directed at her.
"It's done, Kassandra," he said, his voice warm and triumphant. "The heat is off you. You're safe now."
Edith stopped. She stared at his back. He wasn't just destroying her to control her. He was destroying her as a gift to another woman.
Giovanni turned his head and saw her. The smile didn't falter; it simply shifted into a look of cold satisfaction.
Edith looked at him, the man she had loved, the man who had broken her body and her spirit. The last tiny ember of hope, the last shred of the girl she used to be, turned to ash in her chest.
She didn't say a word. She just turned and walked away, the sound of his triumphant voice echoing in her ears.
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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.