The Unwanted Wife's Spectacular Revenge Comeback
For three years, Alyson endured a suffocating marriage, while her biological family treated her like a stray dog compared to her sister, Chelsea.
She thought her husband Kenton would at least show her basic human decency.
But during a horrific car crash in a freezing storm, Kenton used his own body to shield Chelsea.
Meanwhile, a massive, out-of-control truck slammed into Alyson, throwing her broken body into a muddy ditch.
With shattered ribs and blood blurring her vision, she reached out a trembling hand to him for help.
Kenton just stared at her coldly through the rain.
"Stop faking it. It's just a scrape."
Without another glance, he wrapped his arm around the completely uninjured Chelsea and drove away, leaving Alyson to bleed out in the mud.
Hours later, after being saved from the brink of death by a mysterious stranger, her phone rang.
It was Kenton, furiously demanding she bring Chelsea's anxiety medication to the hospital.
He didn't even care to ask where she was, let alone realize she was severely injured.
Alyson couldn't understand how the man she loved could be so blindly cruel, or why her own parents constantly orchestrated her destruction.
The pathetic hope she had clung to for three years finally shattered into dust.
She dragged her battered body back to their penthouse, hiding a divorce settlement inside a stack of tedious charity documents.
When Kenton arrogantly signed his name without reading a single line, Alyson turned her back on the toxic family for good.
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Chapter 5
Alyson grabbed her handbag from the back of the chair and walked toward the grand foyer.
Her heels struck the marble floor with heavy, definitive clicks, each step crushing the last remnants of her loyalty to this house.
"Stop right there! Who gave you permission to leave!" Warren roared from the dining room.
Alyson did not even turn her head.
She reached out and pushed the heavy oak front doors open.
A violent gust of wind, thick with freezing rain, blasted into the entryway.
Just as she stepped onto the threshold, a high-pitched scream echoed behind her.
It was Eleanor.
Alyson instinctively looked over her shoulder.
Chelsea was collapsed on the Persian rug, her face pale, one hand clutching her chest as she gasped desperately for air.
"Chelsea! My baby, what's wrong!" Eleanor dropped to her knees, pulling Chelsea into her arms.
Chelsea's chest heaved violently, large tears spilling down her cheeks.
"Mom... my chest hurts so much... Does my sister still hate me..."
Warren rushed forward, screaming at the butler.
"Get her pills! Call the family doctor right now!"
He whipped his head around, glaring at Alyson with a hatred so pure it burned.
"Are you happy now? Will you only be satisfied when you kill your sister?"
Alyson stood in the open doorway, the cold wind whipping her hair across her face.
She watched the pathetic, theatrical performance on the floor.
Her heart didn't ache. She just felt a deep, exhausting disgust.
She turned her back on them and stepped out onto the covered porch.
At that exact moment, a sleek black Maybach tore through the heavy rain and slammed to a halt in the driveway.
The rear door swung open.
Kenton stepped out, wearing a dark grey custom suit, his face tight with urgency.
He had clearly rushed over after receiving a call from the Holts about the dinner.
His eyes immediately locked onto Alyson standing alone on the top step.
Before he could demand to know what she was doing, Eleanor's hysterical crying drifted out the open door.
"Kenton! Come quick! Chelsea is having a panic attack!"
The color drained from Kenton's face.
He lunged up the stairs.
Alyson was standing in his path.
Without breaking his stride, Kenton shoved his hand against Alyson's shoulder to move her out of the way.
The marble steps were slick with rain.
The force of his push threw Alyson off balance.
Her ankle twisted violently, and she stumbled hard, her knee slamming into the wet stone to stop herself from falling down the entire flight of stairs.
A sharp pain shot up her leg, but Kenton didn't even look back.
He sprinted into the foyer and dropped to one knee, pulling Chelsea from Eleanor's arms and pressing her against his chest.
"Chelsea, look at me. Breathe," Kenton ordered, his voice thick with a desperate tenderness Alyson had never heard before.
Chelsea buried her face in his suit jacket, her voice trembling.
"Kenton... maybe I shouldn't have come back... My sister..."
Kenton's head snapped up.
His eyes found Alyson, who was slowly pulling herself up from the wet ground.
"What is wrong with you, Alyson? She is your own flesh and blood!" he shouted, his voice echoing over the sound of the rain.
Alyson stood in the downpour, letting the freezing water soak through her silk shirt.
She looked at the man she had loved for three years holding the woman who had ruined her life.
"You should all buy tickets to Broadway," she said, her voice dead and hollow.
She turned around and walked down the steps into the storm.
Kenton's jaw clenched in fury. He scooped Chelsea up into his arms.
"I'm taking her to the hospital," he told the Holts, carrying her out to the Maybach.
His driver instantly opened an umbrella, shielding them as Kenton placed her gently in the back seat.
The engine roared to life.
The heavy car accelerated down the driveway, the tires slicing through a deep puddle.
A wave of dirty, freezing mud splashed across the back of Alyson's legs as the car sped past her, leaving her entirely alone.
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9.3
Born into privilege, Eleanor never imagined her life could shatter in a single night. Then her father disappeared with his mistress, her mother fell from a building and slipped into a coma, and everything she once owned turned to dust.
Determined not to ruin Jonathan's future with her family's disgrace, she ended their relationship and became the bride of a man trapped in a vegetative state.
She believed that was the last time their paths would cross. But two years later, Jonathan pinned her in the dark and whispered, "Long time no see, my sister-in-law."
7.9
After her twin brother's unexplained death at Alpha Academy, Alexandria Hyde takes his place and his name to uncover the truth. Now living as "Alex," she's thrown into a world of hot, testosterone-fueled Alphas who fight to the brink of death... and she has to survive it while hiding who she really is.
But staying hidden isn't easy–
Not when the Alphas start noticing her.
Not when the truth she's chasing might destroy her first.
And definitely not when they start fighting for her instead.
8.6
I was the untouchable Mafia Queen, but my reign ended in the blood-soaked depths of a damp dungeon.
My half-sister, Kelsey, drove a rusted, sharpened spoon into my chest, screaming about the unfairness of fate.
In my past life, my father sold me to the ruthless Don Dante Blackwell as collateral to pay off his debts.
To survive, I took a black-market fertility drug, birthed his heir, and clawed my way to the throne through sheer ruthlessness.
But in the mafia world, a pregnant woman isn't a queen; she's a walking target.
I survived countless bombings and poisonings, only to be betrayed and slaughtered by my own family.
Until my last breath, I couldn't understand. I had sacrificed everything to secure our survival in the empire. Why did my blood and tears only earn me a rusted spoon to the heart?
Opening my eyes again, I am seventeen, sitting in my father's drawing room.
Two black velvet boxes sit on the mahogany table.
Kelsey greedily snatches the box containing the fertility drug, her eyes gleaming with feverish triumph.
"I'll take this one, Papa."
She thinks she is stealing my golden ticket to the crown, completely unaware that she just chose a death sentence.
I lower my gaze, letting my eyelashes mask the cold, lethal amusement pooling in my eyes as I take the remaining box.
Inside is the detailed psychological profile of the Don's dead fiancée.
This time, I won't be a breeding mare fighting off assassins. I will dissect the devil himself.
9.7
I was an intern nurse working exhausting shifts, yet my mother constantly forced me into blind dates with wealthy, arrogant men to secure our family's social standing.
During a terrifying hospital lockdown, an assassin disguised as a doctor held a scalpel to my throat. I was almost killed, but a high-ranking military colonel threw his own body down a flight of concrete stairs to shield me.
I survived with cuts and bruises, but when I went home, my mother didn't care about my near-death experience. She was only furious that I had rushed out on my blind date with Preston, a rich financial analyst.
She forced me to meet him to apologize. When Preston grabbed my arm, bruised me, and mocked my attack as a pathetic lie, my mother still took his side.
"Men get angry," she told me coldly. "It's your job not to provoke them. You will beg for his forgiveness, or you are no longer welcome in this house."
I had narrowly escaped an assassin, yet my own family was willing to feed me to a monster just for a fat paycheck and neighborhood gossip.
My heart went completely dead.
So, when the intimidating Colonel appeared, offering me maximum military protection through a sudden marriage, I didn't hesitate.
I walked back into my parents' house and calmly slapped a crisp marriage certificate onto the coffee table.
"I won't be apologizing to Preston. I got married today."
7.6
Top DEA agent Kaitlynn Bruce woke up to a heavy, chemical lethargy, only to realize she was trapped in the body of a weak, abused war widow.
Before she could even process her new reality, she heard her sister-in-law counting cash, selling her unconscious body to a local thug for a measly two hundred dollars.
The thug dragged her new seven-year-old son, Cason, into the bedroom.
"Mommy!"
When the boy reached out, the man brutally kicked his small body into a wooden doorframe, leaving him gasping and bleeding on the floor.
Memories flooded Kaitlynn's mind. Her predecessor was a pathetic doormat whose husband's military pension had been bled dry by these greedy in-laws, leaving her children to starve and suffer endless abuse.
But as Kaitlynn looked at the bleeding boy's dark, unnervingly alert eyes, a chilling piece of DEA intelligence clicked in her mind.
Cason Richmond.
The name, the town, the abusive aunt—it all matched the classified files of the "Director of the Hive," the most ruthless and feared cartel puppet master in the criminal underworld.
How could this battered, starving child be destined to become the ultimate monster she used to hunt?
The original widow's tragic death was supposed to be the catalyst that pushed this boy into total darkness.
But Kaitlynn Bruce was not a victim.
Adrenaline burning through the drugs, she cracked the thug's neck with a brass lamp and choked the sister-in-law against the wall.
Looking down at the boy who was supposed to become a global nightmare, she made a vow. She was going to rewrite his script, even if she had to burn the whole world down to do it.
7.1
I worked eighty-hour weeks on Wall Street just to keep my sick brother alive, enduring endless humiliation from the wealthy family that adopted us.
But when I went to surprise my boyfriend of three years, I found him kissing my spoiled adoptive sister, Tatum.
They were celebrating their engagement to merge their powerful families.
To keep me quiet, my adoptive mother, Eleanor, threatened to freeze my brother's medical trust fund unless I attended the party to play the supportive sister.
Instead, I discovered Eleanor had been embezzling from my brother's life-saving fund to cover her own bad investments.
The nightmare worsened when a drunken Ryder cornered me in my apartment stairwell.
"Once I marry Tatum, Eleanor is giving me control of Liam's trust fund to buy out my father's board members."
He planned to drain my brother's medical money, dump Tatum, and keep me as his mistress.
For a decade, I suffered their abuse hoping for a shred of decency, only to realize they were plotting to leave my brother to die on the streets for corporate greed.
Calling the police wouldn't stop these billionaires. I needed absolute power.
Remembering the dark, predatory gaze of Jaren Jarvis—the ruthless billionaire who had watched me fight back at the party—I canceled my call to 911.
If they wanted to destroy my only family, I was going to use the devil himself to crush theirs.