Su Banqing

I was adopted by the Kowalski family at five, but after their biological daughter was born, I became their unpaid maid. To fund their luxurious lifestyle, my adoptive parents forced me to sign a marriage contract with Blake Carlisle, a billionaire hockey star currently in a vegetative state. When his aristocratic parents came over, I desperately suggested my sister marry him instead. Freya, my adoptive mother, immediately threatened to expose a mysterious "truth" about my past, forcing me to submit. But the meeting ended in disaster when my sister insulted Blake, and Freya accidentally mocked his coma to his mother's face. The furious Carlisles voided the contract, but left a chilling message: they were now launching a full investigation into our family to uncover the "truth" Freya had mentioned. I didn't understand what this hidden secret was, or why my adoptive father had reacted with such extreme terror to stop Freya from saying it out loud. "I will get you to that wedding tomorrow, even if I have to tie you up and drag you there." Freya cornered me with a deranged smile, vowing to sell me to another rich man. But this time, I wasn't going to wait to be sold; I was going to find out what they were hiding.

I spent ten years acting as the dutiful Duchess of Carlisle, loving my husband Gideon with everything I had. But because of a single fabricated tear from his beloved "white moonlight," Haylie, he personally dragged me into the family dungeons. As I choked on poison in the freezing dark, the sickening truth was finally revealed to me. The daily health tonics my husband lovingly prepared for me were actually a potent contraceptive. He chemically ensured I would never conceive, keeping his bloodline pure for his mistress. His mother constantly berated me for my barren womb, and his sister openly tried to feed me deformed beast blood. Whenever I begged Gideon for help, he simply blamed me for being unreasonable and left me to be humiliated by the entire capital. I died completely alone in agony, my body withered and broken. I couldn't understand why he would marry me just to use me as a disposable shield, destroying my life while playing the noble hero. Opening my eyes again, I was twenty years old, back in the very first year of our marriage. Looking out the window at Gideon embracing Haylie in the rose garden, my heart was as cold as a frozen lake. "I want the Rejection Ritual." Ignoring his thunderous fury, I calmly packed up my dowry and began plotting my way into the royal palace to save the dying Dragon King.

To save her family from a crushing financial crisis, Alaina Carney signed a one-year contract marriage with the cold, untouchable billionaire, Alaric Wynn. But her toxic ex-boyfriend, Damian Horton—the very man who engineered her family's ruin—refused to let her move on. When Damian discovered Alaina was opening her own architecture gallery, he launched a vicious corporate attack. He ruthlessly short-sold her suppliers' stocks and forced her entire construction team to walk out. He cornered her in her empty office, throwing a humiliating contract onto her desk. He demanded she sign her gallery over to him and crawl back as his hidden mistress. If she refused, he promised to destroy anyone who dared to work with her, arrogantly threatening to even target the Wynn Group. Alaina was suffocating under his obsessive blackmail. She had already sold her freedom to escape his grip, yet he still treated her like a helpless toy he could break at will. She absolutely refused to surrender, but how could she possibly fight a massive corporation all by herself? Just as Damian smugly gave her one hour to submit, the office door swung open. Alaric Wynn strode in, picked up Damian's contract, and tore it to shreds. "My wife doesn't sign trash." He turned to a live video feed of Damian's board of directors and coldly delivered the final blow. "While you were busy bullying her, my team just bought a controlling stake in your entire company."

I was supposed to pitch our family's failing company alongside my father and my fiancé. Instead, I discovered it was a sickening trap. The men I trusted most had conspired to sell me to a fifty-year-old predator. When I barely escaped and rushed home, I found my stepmother physically abusing my frail, dying mother. "Your sick mother should have died long ago! It's your honor to bring profit to this family!" They mocked me for being a useless Omega and admitted they orchestrated everything to steal my grandfather's priceless healing formula. When I fought back and cut ties, my ex-fiancé even sabotaged my mother's emergency hospital admission to force my hand. I had given them everything, yet they treated us like disposable trash. To save my mother's life, I anonymously auctioned the ancient formula. It sold for a staggering one hundred million dollars. But my relief shattered when I learned the buyer's identity. It was the legendary Sinclair Alpha-a brutal, crippled monster rumored to feed disobedient servants to his wolves. And the condition for the money was that I had to move into his isolated, terrifying castle to personally treat him. I had just escaped the hell of my family's betrayal. But to keep my mother alive, I had no choice but to walk straight into the devil's lair.

Seraphina Hayes went from a billionaire heiress to a desperate daughter overnight. To pay for her dying father's surgery, she stood in the freezing rain to beg her ex-boyfriend, Liam, for help. Instead of helping, Liam threw a check into a muddy puddle to humiliate her. Left with no way out, Seraphina was forced to sign a brutal marriage contract with Julian Sterling—a ruthless billionaire who also happened to be Liam's uncle. But her new husband treated her like a bought possession. At Liam's grand engagement party, Julian forced Seraphina to wear a scandalous diamond necklace and enter alone. Then, he walked in with his famous ex-girlfriend on his arm. The entire ballroom mocked Seraphina as a discarded clown. Liam pulled her onto the dance floor, grinning as he whispered in her ear. "When he's done with you, you can always come crawling back to me to be my mistress." She stood surrounded by cruel laughter, her pride shattered. Why did Julian spend hundreds of millions to save her family, only to publicly execute her dignity? Was she just a cheap prop for his twisted games? But they underestimated her. Seraphina didn't break down. She leaned in, her voice like ice. "You're just the piece of gum I scraped off my shoe this morning. Disgusting, and easily forgotten." Leaving Liam pale and stumbling, she walked out of the ballroom like an untouchable queen, unaware that her ruthless husband was watching from the balcony, a dangerous spark of genuine interest finally lighting up his eyes.

My wedding day was supposed to be the happiest day of my life. My fiancé, Cyrus, was my hero, promising to save my sick grandmother with his generous insurance. Instead, he ripped my wedding dress to shreds and revealed he’d been sleeping with my best friend for months. I was a scientist, on the brink of marrying Cyrus, a man who seemed to embody every dream I had. With my critically ill grandmother dependent on his insurance for experimental treatment, he felt like my unwavering protector. But the night before our wedding, my world shattered. He confessed he’d been secretly sleeping with Brianna, my best friend and houseguest, for months. Then, with ice in his eyes, he told me this wedding wasn't for me, but to provide "stability" for her. He shredded my wedding dress, then forced me to the altar by threatening my academic career and showing me a live feed of my critically ill grandmother's vitals. During the ceremony, he broadcast intimate videos of himself and Brianna, triggering my grandmother's fatal stroke. Adding to the horror, Brianna, my best friend, confessed her part in sabotaging my research, an attack that had already caused a severe endocrine condition, stealing my chance at children. The man I loved, the friend I protected, the career I built, the family I cherished – all utterly destroyed. What kind of monster would orchestrate such a calculated, brutal betrayal against a dying woman and a vulnerable friend? There were no more tears left, only a cold, hard resolve in the face of absolute devastation. But then, a job offer flashed on my phone screen: a senior research scientist position in Berlin. With nothing left to lose and a burning need for justice, I returned his ring, declared our life together over, and booked a flight for tomorrow, ready to build a new future from the ashes of his deceit.

After four years of torture in a so-called “rehabilitation center,” I was finally released. My husband, Elliot, was waiting for me. He wasn’t there to save me; he was there to serve me divorce papers. He and my adoptive family were convinced I was a liar. They believed my broken leg, my missing fingernails, and my scarred vocal cords were all part of an elaborate performance for attention. "Still playing the cripple," he sneered, looking at my ruined body with disgust. He tossed a handkerchief at my bleeding hand so I wouldn’t stain the leather seats of his car. Back home, my perfect adoptive sister, Elyse, confessed everything with a smile. She had paid the doctors to torture me, to break my bones, to destroy my voice. When I lunged at her, my own mother called me an animal. My father prepared to sign me back into that hell permanently. They saw my pain as a performance and her cruelty as innocence. When I was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer and had months to live, Elliot tore up the medical report, calling it my most pathetic lie yet.

I sacrificed the wolf core to save my beloved. To avoid being overwhelmed by guilt, I chose to leave and silently wait for death in a corner of the human world. But even after he became the alpha of the wolf pack, he still went to great lengths to marry me. After we got married, he flaunted his mistress in front of me every day, trying to provoke me and get revenge. But he didn't know that I was about to die. Darling, I'm dying.

On my wedding night, I waited for the fated spark. Instead, I found a fresh tattoo on my Alpha husband's chest. Beneath the ink lay a jagged bite mark. Jameson had marked Caren, the wolf-less Omega, just hours before our ceremony. When I confronted him, he called me paranoid. But the betrayal didn't stop at infidelity. On my birthday, Caren brought me "fertility tea." I smelled the metallic tang of Wolfsbane immediately—a poison deadly to our kind. I refused to touch it, but Jameson’s eyes flashed with dominance. "Drink it. That is an order." He used the Alpha Voice to force the poison down my throat. As my throat seized and I clawed at the carpet, dying, he didn't help me. When I reached for the antidote, he shoved me into the wall to protect Caren, accusing me of trying to attack her. I woke up in the hospital to the devastating news: the poison had killed our unborn pup. Yet, Jameson still shielded his mistress, baring his fangs at his own mother to keep Caren safe. He thought he could fix it. He thought he still owned me. "Sit! I command you to stay!" He roared the Alpha Command, expecting me to kneel. But his authority shattered along with my heart. I didn't just sign the divorce papers. I walked out to the parking lot under the full moon and rejected the bond, watching him collapse in agony. Then, the "broken" wolf he despised finally shifted. I rose as the legendary White Wolf, and left him howling in the dirt.

For the seventh time, I stood at the altar, pregnant with his child, waiting to marry Justice Keith. And for the seventh time, he abandoned me. His phone rang, and just like that, he was gone-rushing to the side of his "fragile" stepsister, Kamala, who was supposedly having another panic attack. He pushed me aside in front of everyone, his family sneering that a "new-money girl" like me would never understand their loyalty. This was the man who baked her special cakes in the middle of the night while ignoring my own hunger, the man who had left me at seventeen other almost-weddings and rehearsals. But this time, as I stood there in my wedding dress, the humiliation was a physical weight. I was tired of being his second choice, the understanding fiancée he always came back to with empty promises. So I walked out. I cancelled the wedding, shattered his family's priceless heirloom, and secretly terminated the pregnancy that tied me to him. I wasn't just leaving anymore. I was going to spend the next seven years meticulously planning how to burn his entire corrupt, old-money empire to the ground.

I was Ariel Burnett, a tech mogul, a genius celebrated in Silicon Valley, with a loving husband, Damien, and a loyal best friend, Cohen. My world was perfect until a rare, aggressive liver disease threatened to take it all away. They promised to save me, and they did. Three years of fighting, a successful transplant, and I was finally healthy, ready to surprise them. But when I arrived at my penthouse, a security guard stopped me, claiming Mrs. Hobbs was already upstairs. My smile froze when he showed me a photo: Kara Gregory, my liver donor, standing on my balcony, looking just like me. The world tilted. I stumbled, hitting my head, as Damien' s voice crackled over the guard' s radio, telling him to get rid of the "crazy woman" disturbing Kara, his "wife." They were in my home, my bed, the penthouse Damien designed for me. Kara, the woman I pitied, the one who claimed she didn't take charity, was now living my life, with my husband and my brother-figure. The pain in my head was nothing compared to the agony in my chest. My husband, my brother, they were in this together. The betrayal was complete. I knew then that my perfect world was a lie, and I was nothing but an inconvenience to be managed.

The sun beat down on the flea market, where I sold my quilts. Each stitch was hours I should've spent on my art fellowship, but my handyman husband, Ethan, always said we needed money. Work was feast or famine in our Appalachian town. Then, at the upscale Bistro, I saw him: Ethan. Not in his work clothes, but a crisp linen shirt, laughing intimately with Veronica Hayes, "Aunt Ronnie" to our son. Hiding nearby, I overheard his chilling confession: "Marrying her was a mistake... I' d leave her tomorrow. Cody… he' ll adjust. He already likes you more anyway." My world shattered. My marriage, a lie. My husband, ready to abandon me and our son. My sacrifices, all for naught. He wasn't struggling; he was funding Veronica' s lavish influencer life. Later, he abandoned me in a a storm, leading to my broken ankle, only to then demand my masterpiece quilt – my 'Appalachian Sunset' – to save Veronica' s phony art show. The audacity! My own son, Cody, parroting their contempt, called my art "old rags," pushing me and screaming he wished "Aunt Ronnie was my mom!" How could they so cruelly betray everything I' d built? But in that hospital room, facing his casual cruelty and the theft of my soul' s work, something snapped. Battered but resolute, I looked at Ethan: "I want a divorce." Dr. Reed' s fellowship, my art, my path to freedom – it was all suddenly clear. I wouldn't be his convenient cover story anymore. I was taking back my life.

For five long years, my sister Meg and I lived in Ryan Sterling's opulent mansion, a "gilded cage" disguised as an act of kindness after our accident. My days were consumed by caring for his demanding son, Kyler, while my musical dreams lay dormant, my face forever marked. One morning, Kyler, with a malicious smirk, deliberately scalded my guitar hand with scorching coffee. But a far colder burn came moments later: I was six weeks pregnant with Ryan's baby. His chilling words, delivered with flat precision, demanded: "An abortion, Ellie. It's the only way." My hand blistered, a constant ache, yet it was dwarfed by his casual dismissal of our unborn child as a mere "complication." He spoke of my "damaged" and "dependent" state, his tone echoing the pervasive control that had suffocated us for five years. How could the man who once seemed captivated by my music now strip me of all humanity, reducing my life, my body, and my child to inconvenient problems? This callous disregard, this profound sense of injustice, was the final, devastating cut to my soul. But in that instant, a desperate resolve ignited within me. I would not bring my beloved child into such a cold, demeaning existence, nor would I let her witness my own subjugation. Clasping my still-blistering hand, now a symbol of their cruelty and my newfound defiance, I looked Ryan in the eye and declared, voice trembling but firm: "Meg and I are leaving."

Emily ended up being a replacement for Shirley, who was supposed to be engaged with James, a member of the royal family. However, Shirley ran off somewhere and Emily was kidnapped to play her part. That was how Emily entered the world of nobility and prestigious families. She thought she could make the most of this opportunity and just have a good time. The last thing she wanted was to lose her first kiss on her first day of school. In a fit of rage, she greeted her royal fiance, James, with a hard slap on his face. The entire school broke into gossip because of the commotion they made, But this was merely a prelude to their story.

Cara Lewis sat quietly as her boyfriend of three years pushed a plate of dessert across the table, wearing a rehearsed mask of sorrow. He claimed he had to break up with her for her own good, blaming his lack of connections on Wall Street and insisting he couldn't give her the life she deserved. He acted like a martyr making a tragic sacrifice, waiting for her desperate tears and trembling denial. Instead, Cara calmly pulled out a stack of glossy photos and an elegant engagement invitation. She exposed his secret affair with the wealthy Hailie Lewis, completely dismantling his hypocritical social climb. Leaving the cheating narcissist pale and humiliated, Cara paid the bill and walked out, thinking the trash had finally been taken out. But her newly single evening took a chaotic turn when a teenage gaming partner called in a panic. He begged her to crash his elite prep school and pose as his aunt to save him from expulsion. Cara agreed, flawlessly playing the role of the secret new wife to his uncle, a notoriously ruthless Wall Street titan. She was thoroughly dominating the snobby school board when the office doors suddenly swung open. The real billionaire uncle, Beck Greer, walked into the room. Cara's heart dropped into her stomach as his glacial eyes locked onto her, knowing her social existence in New York was about to end. Caught in a terrifying, inescapable lie, Cara made an insane calculation. She stepped forward, firmly hooked her arm through the billionaire's, and smiled sweetly. "Honey, what took you so long? Julian and I were being bullied." She waited for the executioner's axe to fall, but the untouchable tycoon simply covered her hand with his and played along.

I was in the hospital, enduring the agonizing pain of labor, while my husband, a famous hockey captain, refused to show up. When I called him for the twelfth time, begging for him, he lost his patience. "Giving birth is a woman's job, don't bother me with this stuff." Then, I heard my stepsister's sweet voice offering him a drink, and he immediately softened before hanging up on me. I gave birth to twins all by myself. The nurses treated me with cold indifference, and the family in the next bed loudly mocked me as a pathetic "Puck Bunny" who was just an adopted orphan about to be dumped. They were right. A month ago, my husband had thrown divorce papers at me, demanding I make way because my stepsister was pregnant with his child. I thought my life was a joke. I was just a discarded prop he married to satisfy his grandfather, a fake daughter my adoptive parents only used to elevate my stepsister. I was completely alone, ready to sign the papers just to protect my two babies. But then, the head of the hospital rushed in, transferred me to the top-floor VIP suite, and handed me a DNA test. It turned out I wasn't an unwanted orphan, but the long-lost daughter of the ultra-wealthy Sinclair family who had been searching for me for twenty years. Looking at my billionaire parents and three powerful brothers who just flew in on their private jets to protect me, I picked up my phone to call my arrogant husband. This time, I was going to make him leave with nothing.

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."

All I wanted was to find a computer genius to process the non-linear dynamic equations for my ecological model. Instead, I found myself cornered by Julian Andrews, the university's hockey prince, trading a public, staged kiss for his academic support. To finalize our "deal," I was dragged to the campus ice rink. The cheerleaders and puck bunnies immediately swarmed him, mocking my plain clothes and treating me like a pathetic joke. Brooke, the head cheerleader, even set up a figure skating competition with a date with Julian as the grand prize. She performed a basic spin, blew him a kiss, and smugly waited for me to fall flat on my face and humiliate myself. His hockey teammates laughed from the sidelines, watching me try to support Julian as he stumbled around the ice like a newborn giraffe. But as I held his warm hand to keep him from falling, I couldn't help but feel something was terribly wrong. Why was a top-tier athlete faking such awful balance? And why did his ice-blue eyes stare at me with such knowing anticipation, as if he already knew about the professional figure skating past I had spent years trying to bury? "Just let go and skate." He whispered, slowly releasing my hand. I took a deep breath, glided to the center of the rink, and landed a flawless double Axel. As the entire rink fell into a dead, shocked silence, I realized I had just exposed not only my own hidden past, but also the biggest secret of the campus god.

Chloe had just given birth to twins, lying exhausted in a cramped, bustling hospital ward. When she called her husband, Julian, he was busy partying with his actress mistress. He coldly hung up on her, having already drafted a brutal divorce agreement that would leave her with a pittance. Strangers in the next bed loudly mocked her pitiful state, gossiping about how Julian was dumping her. For years, Chloe had erased her own identity to fit into his elite world, only to be thrown away like garbage. She was completely alone, clutching her helpless babies, bracing herself to sign the cruel papers just to survive. She couldn't understand why her absolute devotion was met with such chilling indifference. Why did she have to suffer this ultimate humiliation while he celebrated with the woman who ruined her life? But then, a senior doctor noticed a unique mole on her wrist and ran a secret DNA test. The results were staggering: Chloe was the long-lost daughter of the billionaire Beaumont family. With her fiercely protective parents and three powerful brothers suddenly forming an impenetrable fortress around her, Chloe picked up her phone and texted her arrogant husband. "City Hall tomorrow at 10 AM. If you don't show up, my lawyer will handle everything. And trust me, you won't like their terms."

"From tonight on, Farrah is my one and only Old Lady! As for you, Sloane... you're just my personal bed-warmer." In the deafening roar of the crowded motorcycle club, my boyfriend of five years hauled another woman against his chest, publicly stripping me of my title. The entire room erupted in laughter, waiting for the "helpless orphan" to break down and cry. His bloodsucking mother and sister smirked in the crowd. For five years, I had served their family like an unpaid maid, secretly bleeding my dead father's legacy dry just to pay off their debts. Now, they were thrilled to see me thrown into the dirt. Beau pinched my chin, offering his mercy like a king to a beggar. "As long as you know your place and stay in the basement to do the chores, I'll generously let you be my secret baby mama. It's the greatest mercy a cursed orphan with a dead bloodline will ever get." They thought they had stripped me of everything. They expected me to crawl on my knees and beg for their scraps. The very next morning, I broke into their safe, took back my stolen inheritance and the keys to my father's legendary motorcycle, and rode straight to the National President-the man who held the absolute power of life and death over the entire outlaw world. When Beau smugly swaggered into the President's office, fully expecting to find me begging on my knees for him to take me back, he was instead slapped in the face with a wax-sealed document of formal severance. "She is a free agent now. Anyone who touches her answers to my gavel." I straddled my father's roaring heavy chopper, looking down at my ex's humiliated, panicked face. "This is just the beginning, Beau. I'm going to make your family bleed out everything you stole." But what I didn't realize was that the moment I took my first step toward revenge, the dangerously wild man I collided with in the dark the night before-the one wearing the forbidden insignia of the absolute royal bloodline-had already locked his sights on me like a predator claiming his prey...

Olivia grew up in a small Florida town, happy despite dreaming of something bigger-until a car accident took her entire family and left her alone. She was forced by her cold, strict grandmother into a life working at a convenience store, but her uncle stepped in. She left with him for New York City. Olivia began rebuilding her life alongside her loving uncles. Then one day, she met Alex-her uncle's boss. Strong, sexy, controlling, obsessive. A perfectionist who discarded anyone he deemed incompetent, a womanizer who never tied himself down. Until Olivia. She was younger than his usual type, but the moment he saw her, he was captivated. Olivia was drawn to him too-but she avoided him at every turn, refusing to give in so easily. Alex pursued her with every trick he had. What he never expected was that, in the battle to win her, his own heart would surrender first.

For ten years, Kinsley played the perfect, invisible wife to billionaire Christian Decker. She lived on a meager allowance, secretly pouring her heart into earning first place for a prestigious Hollywood directing fellowship. But on the day her gold-stamped acceptance letter arrived, she stood outside his study and heard him give her hard-earned spot to Blair, his live-in mistress. Christian casually dismissed Kinsley's months of grueling work, claiming a mere housewife didn't need industry resources. He threw an unlimited black credit card on the desk, telling her to go buy some jewelry and stop throwing a tantrum. That same night, he paraded Blair at a Wall Street gala wearing the Decker family's heirloom sapphire, letting Manhattan's elite look at Kinsley with pity and mockery. When Blair boldly moved into their master bedroom, Christian fiercely defended the mistress, warning Kinsley not to cause a scene over nothing. Ten years of quiet devotion were trampled for a fake heiress's vanity. Kinsley looked at the man she had loved, her heart turning completely to ash. She finally understood that in this massive estate, there was never any room for her. She took off her platinum wedding ring, left all his luxury gifts behind, and walked out of the mansion empty-handed. Then, she calmly dialed a private number to her production team. "Scrap the fellowship transition. I'm taking the director's chair directly." She was going to make Blair audition for her on a global live stream, and let Christian watch his precious investment burn.

I was the President's Old Lady - and the only reason his MC was still breathing. For three years, I ran every legal business the Serpents of Redemption owned. While Craig chased road glory across state lines, I turned a failing auto shop and a tattoo parlor into the money that kept the brothers fed, the bikes fueled, and the clubhouse lights on. Then he rode home from a two-month run with a sweetbutt on the back of his Harley - and her son. Ginger, he said, had saved his life on the road. So he put her in the main residence, in the room directly across from our bed. He handed her my ledgers and called it repayment. When her son dumped a cup of scalding coffee over my hand, Craig never checked my burns. He scooped up the boy and blamed me. His grandmother - the club's Matriarch - stood before every patched brother and accused me of hurting "family." That night, Craig told me Ginger held a place in his heart I could never reach. A debt of blood he'd honor above me. Three years. My family's fortune. My scarred hand. All of it - worthless next to his roadside savior. So I did the one thing a President never expects his Old Lady to do. I gave back his patch. Now they can keep their empty ledgers. They can play happy family in a clubhouse I built. And when this motorcycle club burns - I'll be the one holding the match.

Five years ago, I stood in the freezing rain at my mother's funeral, waiting for my husband. Blake Knight, the billionaire NHL superstar, was two hours late. When he finally showed up, he brought his rumored girlfriend, the woman he had just rented a hotel rooftop for to celebrate her birthday. Watching him defend her fake tears, my heart completely died. I took off my diamond wedding ring, placed it on my mother's headstone, and walked away from my marriage forever. I fled to London, changed my name to Ava, and secretly raised the triplets he never knew existed. I thought I was finally safe from him. But today, my kids vandalized a silver Aston Martin in our apartment's parking garage, and the owner caught my youngest daughter. My phone rang. The voice on the other end was Blake's. He had moved into my building, and he was holding my little girl in his penthouse, demanding her mother come get her immediately. Panic suffocated me. If I walked through that door, my five years of hiding would be instantly destroyed. He would recognize me, realize I didn't get rid of our child like everyone thought, and he would use all his power to take my babies away. I couldn't let him ruin my life again. "I'm just her nanny," I lied through my teeth. I frantically begged my best friend to go upstairs and rescue my daughter in my place. He bought the disguise, but now, the King of the Ice is dangerously obsessed with investigating my new identity.