Trophy Wife No More

“I’ve warned you from the beginning. Don’t marry him, but you won’t listen.” Darcy stood close to me and smiled with concern. “You’re not a woman worthy of a man as handsome, rich, smart, and virile as Blaze.” My whole body trembled at her words. “Have you no shame?” I asked. “Take a good look at yourself, Heather.” She stared at me in the mirror. “You can’t even glance at your ugly face. Do you think Blaze can endure a lifetime of gazing at that scar?” Heather Bailey got a surprise from her husband: a divorce agreement. After a year of marriage and facing ups and downs, she couldn’t believe Blaze intended to divorce her. She was devastated when she saw him gazing lovingly at another woman. After signing the divorce papers, shockwaves caught her up. Her flower shop was burned to the ground. Her father’s company collapsed, and her parents blamed her. She struggled to rebuild her life from the ground up and became more successful than ever. Having many customers from influential families, she started her revenge on Blaze. She won the very thing he wanted, but that was just the beginning.

Behind the gates of their luxurious mansion, Aurora “Rory” Wynter, appears to have it all: a handsome husband, a beautiful home, and a perfect facade. But when the doors are closed, Rory's world begins to unravel. Her husband's multiple love affairs threaten to destroy her marriage and her sense of self-worth. Will Rory find the strength to break free from her gilded cage, or will she remain forever trapped in her role as the perfect trophy wife?

Cornton playboy Justin Swanson openly declares that he only keeps girlfriends around for one month at a time and never falls in love. Women hoping to marry into wealth line up from one side of the city to the other. After all, when he is in a good mood, he rewards them with a villa. Even when he isn't pleased, there is still a million-dollar breakup payout. I am a joke to everyone in Cornton. They say I'm the most humiliated rich man's wife in all of history. They all assume I will put up with him forever. That is, until Justin brings home a college goer named Kayla Holt. She looks pretty ordinary, yet she becomes the first woman to make him break away from his vow of only having one woman as a girlfriend for a month. Justin gives me two choices. The first is to accept an open marriage and let Kayla stand on equal footing with me. The second is to divorce him, take half the assets, and walk away with no strings attached between us. His friends stand nearby, enjoying the show. They are convinced I will stay and keep playing the patient, long-suffering wife for the money. But I choose the second option without hesitation. In my previous life, I choose to tolerate Justin's infidelity, only for Kayla to become more and more demanding. She forbids Justin from touching me, and she forbids him from giving me any property. In my old age, I can only watch with envy as Kayla is surrounded by children and even grandchildren. When Justin dies, his will does not mention me a single time. All of his inheritance goes to Kayla. I spend my entire life clinging to the title of Mrs. Swanson, only to end up completely alone. After getting a second chance at life, I am no longer hung up on him. I understand clearly that I should take the money and leave. From now on, he and I have nothing to do with each other anymore.

Alexander wants a divorce. His wife is the heiress to the richest conglomerate in the world and is detached from reality. Arrogant, self-centered, and inconsiderate to the point that she does whatever it takes to get what she wants - Alexander being one of her many conquests. But when he finally asks for a divorce, she is relieved to have him gone? But he thought she orchestrated their whole marriage? Was it a lie? Was there more to this superficial Daddy’s princess who could have whatever she wanted? Was she really more than meets the eye? Or was this just another one of her elaborate plots to keep him under her thumb?

“My husband got his mistress pregnant… so I handed him the divorce papers.” Three years of silence. Three years of contempt. Three years living in the shadow of a man who loved someone else. Rachelle Veronesi, heiress to a fashion empire, fulfilled her end of the bargain: she was the perfect wife to Nikolai Santoro. She endured his humiliations, his cold absences, and the constant presence of Micah—the childhood friend he always chose over her. But the illusion shatters during a family dinner when Micah announces her pregnancy. Rachelle doesn’t cry. She doesn’t beg. She walks away. With nothing but her name and her power, she reclaims her place at the top of the fashion world—stronger, colder, untouchable. Nikolai believes she’ll come crawling back. He thinks she’s nothing without him. He couldn’t be more wrong. Because as Rachelle rises, he begins to uncover the truth: the woman he trusted has been lying to him… and the child she carries isn’t even his. Now, with only three months left before the divorce is final, Nikolai is forced to face the one truth he never wanted to admit— He didn’t lose a convenient wife. He lost the only woman who ever truly loved him. And this time… she’s not coming back.

I had been married to Derek for six years, and we had a three-year-old son. He was poor, earning only $2,000 a month, but I had no complaints; I took care of everything at home for him. After getting dinner on the table for the whole family, I finally had a minute to check my phone. A video popped up on my feed: a twenty-two-year-old girl from a rural area whose hands, roughened by years of hard labor, looked like they belonged to a sixty-two-year-old woman. I looked down at my own hands, just as worn and scarred, and stared at them blankly before tapping into the comments. I expected people to feel bad for her. However, to my surprise, the comments section was flooded with a single sentiment: "Why would anyone marry a penniless loser?" One of the top-liked comments came from a couple; in their photo, they were pictured holding hands—fingers tightly intertwined—with the girl sporting a massive diamond ring. The accompanying caption read: "A man who truly loves you would never bear to let you suffer." I felt a pang of envy. Given the choice, who wouldn't want a glamorous life? As I was about to close the app, I accidentally tapped on the couple's photo, enlarging it. In the background, previously too blurry to make out, was a face I recognized. It looked exactly like my husband, Derek Sterling. I froze, and almost against my will, I tapped into the account's profile. Post after post of lavish photos of them together flooded my screen. And then I saw him clearly. The scar above his brow, the one he got when a shelf fell on him while protecting me, was still plainly visible. It was my husband. It was Derek.