Unwanted Wife, Hidden Genius: Her Rise As A Tech Queen
Everyone in high society knew Jillian was a doormat-silent, obedient, endlessly tolerant, even as her husband favored another woman.
Her home was taken, her wedding ruined, and still she said nothing.
Until the day her hard-earned patent was stolen. That was when she finally had enough. "I will take back what's mine. And we should get a divorce."
He only laughed, certain she wouldn't dare. But she did. She reclaimed everything and disappeared.
Years later, she returned as a world-renowned tech queen.
When he begged, "Come back to me..." She held another man's hand. "Step aside. My husband and I are going home."
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Chapter 6
A hint of amusement slipped into Jillian's tone as she spoke. "You claim she's terrified of fire, yet she carries a lighter?"
With tears gathering in her eyes, Melany lifted her gaze toward him. "Dennis, how could I possibly keep something like that on me? You understand me better than anyone."
In truth, Melany had experienced a fire in her dormitory back in Cletolia shortly before graduation, but the incident had left her voice intact.
After discovering the situation between Dennis and Jillian, she used that past event to pretend to lose her voice so she could take Jillian's place.
To make the deception more believable, she even exposed her vocal cords to thick smoke on purpose and caused damage to them.
Because she knew Jillian had a fear of fire, she carefully mirrored that same fear whenever she was around Dennis.
Every detail had been planned with precision, and the story she built supported her act from every angle.
With everything arranged so perfectly, she was confident that no matter what Jillian said, Dennis would remain on her side.
That thought brought a faint curve to her lips, though it was barely noticeable.
At the same time, Dennis had already reached his own judgment.
To Dennis, Melany's voice had been ruined by an accidental fire, and since that day, she had avoided anything related to flames.
From his perspective, Jillian's claims sounded completely fabricated.
With a dismissive glance in Jillian's direction, he let out a scoff. "It's only a patent. Do you really need to push things this far?"
Upon hearing his response, Melany hid a faint smile at the corner of her lips.
Frustration welled up inside Jillian, and she could no longer hold it back. "So this is what you think of me?"
A colder edge slipped into his voice as Dennis answered, "You would do anything to get what you want. Was that not how you managed to marry me?"
In his mind, their marriage would never have happened if she hadn't influenced his grandfather.
A sharp ache spread through Jillian's chest as she realized how he truly saw her.
Tears gathered in her eyes, yet she forced herself to speak with defiance. "You were the one who promised that you would marry me first!"
Dennis's face hardened. He had only ever said that to Melany.
In a cold tone, he dismissed her claim. "Now you're trying to justify yourself? You're simply imagining things."
Those words hit Jillian so hard that she went completely still. By dismissing everything as her imagination, he erased every moment they had once shared.
When she met his gaze, no words came to her, and silence took over.
Sensing the conversation was moving toward a direction she dreaded, Melany stepped in before things could continue, casually saying that she didn't feel well.
Dennis supported her and led her downstairs so she could rest.
Left alone at last, Jillian lost the strength to remain upright and sank onto the bed.
At first, she meant to gather her belongings before leaving, but in the end, she only took the keepsake her mother had left her and walked away.
Carefully, she arranged the house keys, her bank cards, and the ring on the bedside table, and she left behind a short note.
Early the next morning, a servant rushed to inform Dennis and brought him to the master bedroom, pointing toward the bedside table. "Sir, Mrs. Miller must have left sometime after midnight. These were left behind."
Reaching for the note, Dennis unfolded it and read the message. "Since we are ending this marriage, it's better to part cleanly. I'm returning everything to you."
First she paraded another man to get a rise out of him. That failed, so now she was playing the separation card?
Tightening his grip on the note, Dennis gave nothing away, and his expression remained impossible to read.
Without another glance, he tucked it into a drawer and headed downstairs for breakfast.
By the time he arrived, Melany was already waiting at the dining table.
After the "scare" from the fire the night before, she had stayed overnight at Aurora Mansion instead of leaving.
Taking his seat, Dennis settled across from her in silence.
As if something had just come to mind, Melany looked at him and brought up a request. "Dennis, I heard you have Dr. Hadley's personal contact. Could you introduce me to him?"
A slight crease formed between his brows as he responded, "I'm not particularly close to him."
"Could you at least help me meet him? Dennis, I plan to pursue a doctorate, and I truly want Dr. Hadley to take me under his wing and guide me through my dissertation. I have always looked up to him!" Melany spoke in a gentle, pleading tone that carried a hint of insistence.
In reality, she didn't admire Dr. Hadley at all.
What she really wanted was to take advantage of his name, because his reputation would keep anyone from doubting her academic credentials.
With an air of indifference, Dennis gave a casual reply. "I'll let my assistant handle it and get in touch."
At one point, the Miller Group tried to bring Dr. Hadley in as their technical advisor. However, he turned them down without even showing up, and he only left behind a number they could contact.
According to what people said, Dr. Hadley was already in his fifties or sixties, and his personality leaned toward being traditional and inflexible.
**
Following her departure from Aurora Mansion, Jillian checked into a hotel for the time being.
Most days found herself at the law firm, and she focused on reaching out to witnesses while also arranging important communication records.
Outside of work, she spent her remaining hours searching for a place that would suit her needs.
On one particular day, she decided to dine at Crown Restaurant.
As she waited for her order to arrive, she signed in to Dr. Hadley's email account.
Handling technical inquiries through that email had become part of her routine.
After replying to several messages, her attention was caught by one sent by the Miller Group two days earlier.
"Dr. Hadley, our CEO, Mr. Miller, hopes to invite you to a dinner held in your honor. He wishes to personally thank you for the support you have given the Group throughout the years. We would like to ask if you might have time available in the near future."
Throughout these years, she placed the Miller Group's technical concerns first, and she assisted them through email whenever she could.
So now Dennis intended to thank her for that?
Earlier, Leland had urged her to handle everything in private, since reclaiming the patent remained her main priority.
Taking the matter to court would only drag things out and waste time.
Even before this, Jillian had already intended to meet Dennis, and now it was a good chance to do that.
Without hesitation, she sent a quick reply. "I'm free, so please let me know the time and location."
Not long after, a message came through. "Crown Restaurant, tonight at seven. Will that suit your schedule?"
By coincidence, she was already dining at that place, so she answered at once, "That works for me."
A moment later, the private room number was sent over.
Since there was still time left, she reached out to Leland and asked him to come along as her lawyer.
As she waited, she returned to her emails and continued working through them.
At the same time, Dennis had already booked the most extravagant private room at Crown Restaurant, and he made sure everything was arranged to leave a strong impression.
Soon, a knock sounded at the door.
Filled with anticipation, Melany pushed herself toward the entrance. "That should be Dr. Hadley."
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7.6
Jocelyn Yang lived in the grand Turner Mansion, not as a guest, but as a prisoner. Ever since her father's death, the ruthless billionaire Elam Turner forced her to atone for sins her father never committed.
On her nineteenth birthday, a male classmate secretly sent her a diamond necklace. Elam, who had flown back from London overnight, flew into a psychotic, jealous rage at the sight of another man's gift.
He mercilessly crushed the delicate necklace into the marble floor with his custom leather shoe.
"Did you forget what you are?" Elam hissed, dragging her into a pitch-black storage room. "You take gifts from other men behind my back?"
He pinned her to the dusty floorboards and violently assaulted her. The next morning, a wire transfer of $500,000 hit her bank account. He had humiliated her, broken her spirit, and was now casually trying to buy her silence. Later, when a broken bike left her walking miles through a freezing rainstorm, he just shoved scalding tea into her bleeding hands.
"Look at you," he sneered. "You look like a stray dog ruining my floors."
Jocelyn curled up in the cold, her lips bleeding and her heart shattered. She couldn't understand his terrifying obsession. If he hated her so much, why did he refuse to let her go? Why did he look at her with such manic hunger while systematically destroying her life?
Staring at the massive sum of hush money on her phone, a desperate spark of vengeance flared in her chest. Jocelyn wired every single cent back to Elam's account. She picked up her charcoal pencil, vowing to win the upcoming art competition and buy her escape from this monster forever.
7.2
After a one night stand with the woman whose house Jason broke into, his life has never been the same. Like a siren's call, he can't get the nymphomaniac woman off his mind. Weeks later, while getting intel for the crew's next heist, Jason lays eyes upon the woman and follows her into a secret strip club. She appears to lead a double life. One where she's the CEO of a multimillion company and her father's golden child. The other side of her life is that she owns a strip club and is extremely erotic. Can Jason learn to live with her as she is? Will he put his pride aside to be with the woman? ... especially when his crew is hired to kidnap a woman who turns out to be the love of his life.
9.6
Minutes before announcing her grand engagement, Darla caught her fiancé sleeping with her stepsister.
She publicly exposed them and canceled the wedding on the spot.
Furious, her adoptive mother demanded Darla marry a fifty-five-year-old predator to save their broken business deal.
"If you don't do exactly what I say, I'll let your father rot in prison for the rest of his life."
Desperate to escape her family's control, Darla grabbed a massive, intimidating hotel security guard she bumped into in the hallway.
She shoved all the cash in her purse at him—eight hundred dollars—and begged him to fake-marry her.
They signed the papers at City Hall that same day.
But the nightmare didn't end.
That evening, Darla received a cold phone call from the state penitentiary.
Her father had been found dead in his cell, and her company, owned by her ex-fiancé's family, fired her immediately.
They had taken everything from her, leaving her completely broken and sobbing on the floor of her tiny apartment.
She thought she had nothing left but a broke, fake husband to keep her company.
She had no idea that the "poor security guard" holding her in his arms was actually Anson Prince, a ruthless billionaire CEO.
And he was already making the calls to tear her abusers' empires to the ground.
8.5
Five years ago, Nina Hale lost everything... her family, her reputation, and the man she once loved. Betrayed by her own sister and abandoned by those she trusted most, she disappeared without a trace.
Now she's back.
With a new identity and a burning determination, Nina is ready to reclaim her life and chase the dream she once gave up: becoming a star actress. But her return awakens old enemies, and her scheming sister Lydia is determined to ruin her again.
Just when Nina thinks things can't get worse, she's caught in another trap... and unexpectedly crosses paths with a quiet, lonely little boy.
Ethan Grant hasn't spoken in years.
Feeling responsible for him, Nina agrees to stay and help the child come out of his shell. But she didn't expect Ethan's dangerously charming father, Lucas Grant, to enter the picture.
Cold, powerful, and impossible to read, Lucas slowly finds himself drawn to the woman who brightens his son's world.
What begins as a simple act of kindness soon turns into something far more complicated, because Nina came back for revenge.
She never planned to fall in love.
**********
"I saw you with him," Lucas said quietly, but the tension in his jaw gave him away.
Nina exhaled, crossing her arms. "You don't get to care."
"Don't I?" He stepped in, close enough that she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes.
"This is just a contract."
"Then why does it bother me?" His hand hovered near her waist, not touching-yet.
"It shouldn't." Her breath faltered.
His gaze darkened, "And yet it does."
9.7
Eleonora held the positive pregnancy test, trembling with fragile hope as she told her husband they were having a baby.
Instead of embracing her, Butler slapped the plastic stick away, his eyes cold and dead.
"You cheating whore," he spat, throwing a stack of papers at her face.
He didn't listen to her desperate pleas. He ordered his bodyguards to drag her out of their penthouse and lock her in a private hospital room.
Trapped and terrified, Eleonora watched in horror as Butler's mistress walked in with a wicked smile.
The mistress shoved a medical consent form, signed with Butler's unmistakable handwriting, right in front of Eleonora's face.
"This isn't just an abortion," the mistress sneered. "It's a full hysterectomy. You'll never have a child again."
Eleonora's heart shattered into pieces. She couldn't understand how the man she loved could be so cruel, willing to kill their unborn baby and mutilate her body over a fabricated lie.
Driven by pure maternal terror, she smeared her blood on the forged papers, set the hospital room on fire, and let the world believe she had burned to ashes.
Five years later, Eleonora returned to New York with her young son.
She was no longer the weak, broken girl who begged for mercy.
Walking into the Holloway Group boardroom in a flawless Dior suit, she slammed a legal document onto Butler's desk.
She was still his legal wife, and she was here to dismantle his empire piece by piece.
9.7
spent three years saving every single credit to buy the Moonlight Grass. It was the only herb capable of healing my damaged wolf spirit.
But the moment I walked through the door, my eldest brother, the Pack Alpha, snatched it from my trembling hands.
"Willow has a migraine," Ryker stated, his voice devoid of warmth. "She needs this."
I begged him. I told him it cost a fortune. I told him it was my only chance to finally shift.
But Axel, my second brother and the Pack Doctor, just adjusted his glasses with clinical coldness.
"Don't be selfish, Ember. Willow is fragile. Your jealousy is ugly."
They boiled my entire future into a tea for an adopted sister who was faking it.
Desperate to prove I wasn't the villain, I spent my last emergency cash on gifts for them.
But when I handed Willow a silk dress, she smirked at me, stepped on the hem, and threw herself backward onto the carpet.
"My ankle!" she screamed. "Ryker, she pushed me!"
I rushed forward to help, but my bad leg gave out. I smashed my knee against the metal bed frame, blood instantly soaking through my jeans.
Axel didn't check my shattered knee. He roared at me, "You vicious snake! You wanted her to trip!"
Ryker loomed over me, his Alpha Command crushing my lungs like a physical weight. "Get out of my sight."
Bleeding, broke, and heartbroken, I dragged myself out into the storm.
They thought I would crawl to a friend's house. They thought I would always be their punching bag.
Instead, I accepted an offer from the rival Shadow Alpha to join a top-secret research facility.
A fifteen-year lockdown. No contact. A complete erasure of my existence.
As I stepped onto the private jet, I looked down at the house one last time.
"Happy Birthday, brothers," I whispered into the wind.
I hope you enjoy the silence when you realize the sister you tortured is gone forever.