Does Patrick Bateman Get Caught

Giselle Von Howard was born into unimaginable wealth as the daughter of Lord Benjamin von Howard, the richest man in the city. Determined to forget her own path, she abandoned her privileged life and concealed her true identity to marry Patrick Hilton, the CEO of Hilton Group. But after three years of what she believed was a fairytale marriage, Giselle’s world crumbled when she discovered Patrick’s infidelity with his childhood friend, Becky. Subjected to relentless cruelty from Patrick and his family, Giselle is forced to confront the painful truth about her life and love. In a final act of defiance, she divorces Patrick, leaving behind the glittering facade of the Hilton legacy to reclaim her dignity and rediscover herself. But after they divorced, Patrick discovered that he can't do without Giselle. He comes to understand that he can't get Giselle out of his mind, he's deeply in love with Giselle and he wants her back. Patrick was eager to win Giselle back by all means. Will Giselle ever come back to Patrick again?

Janine was in love with Patrick. However, Patrick was very much in love with her twin sister, Jane. When the two got married, Janine’s world fell apart. She left the country to mend her broken heart. Three years later, Jane begged her to replaced her twin’s position as being the Vice President of Patrick’s company because Jane is leaving her husband for good. Janine went back to the country with her two-year old son. To her surprise, Patrick hated Jane so much to the point that he even denied having a child with her. Patrick also hated her for whatever reason she couldn’t understand. Would she allow herself to get hurt again? And could Patrick forgive Janine for hiding her child that was his?

"You conniving bitch, I've had enough of you! Your face makes me sick! Just fricking go to hell, Lana!" The anger in his eyes, the disgust on his face... These were everything Lana was used to,. but her heart still bled at those words. 23yr old , Lana Fernandez wanted nothing more than the love of her husband but this seems like a dream that can never be accomplished. Her husband, Damien Romero only married her at the insistence of his grandmother because she saved his life but his heart will always belong to his ex-lover Rina... or so he thought. Trapped in a loveless marriage to be an afterthought, to a woman she'd never measure up to, and mistreated by both her husband and his family, Lana seeks a divorce after the loss of her baby. Determined to forget him completely, she returns to her life and suddenly, Damien sees she's not who he thinks she is. The woman who was thought to be a gold digger and a low life was actually a Billionaire Heiress! And as ugly truths rear up their ugly heads, Damien realises he wants her back and she's actually the key to his sanity. But will Lana help him discover the peace he seeks? Or will she let him be devoured by the very pain he caused her?

He called me his princess and he promised me a ring, our life together was going to be Epic but when I turned 18 and my wolf cried “Mate”, He rejected me and claimed another girl in front of my eyes before he disappeared from my life, until……one night he caught me in that nightclub, I couldn’t believe it was him but I was sure it was him but then he pinned me to the wall and whispered through gritted teeth. “I don’t know you, and certainly do not love you. You have got the wrong man. But I don’t mind having you for tonight’s appetite.”

After a falling out with my long-distance boyfriend, I decide to secretly fly home to patch things up with him. Unexpectedly, I catch him fooling around at home with his secretary. "Do you need to be so mad? I only got someone to act as your stand-in. Ultimately, you're still the one I love." I listen to his preposterous lies and hide my stomach cancer diagnosis behind my back. I say, "It's not a bad idea to gather more of these fakes. You won't be too upset when I'm dead." But after I die, he loses his mind when he looks at his secretary's face.

By the fifth year of my marriage to Noah Lester, everyone insisted that I, Emma Newman, was his eternal muse. But I knew the truth. Behind my back, Noah cycled through a parade of fresh-faced, eager lovers. He even flaunted them at social gatherings, swapping one for another with shameless ease. When friends teased him—"Didn’t you swear Emma was the love of your life? Why the revolving door of mistresses?"—he’d just laugh, arms slung around his latest conquests. "Once you’ve caught your muse the glow fades. Give me someone new and tender any day—at least they keep things exciting." So I began plotting my escape. What Noah never realized was that I had grown tired of him, too. Tired of this life, of these performances. I was done.

My husband was out cold. Middle of the night, his phone lit up on the nightstand—chat app blowing up. I leaned over and grabbed it, quiet as a breath. Messages from someone named 'Viv.' Her last one? [Goodnight, Matt.] I had my fingerprint saved, but I'd never used it. Six years of trust. Six years of believing he was loyal—maybe too awkward to cheat. But something felt off. So I tapped in. And just like that, I opened Pandora's box. My heart? Tanked.

On our seventh wedding anniversary, I was straddling my Mafia husband, Lucian, kissing him deeply. My fingers fumbled in the pocket of my expensive silk dress, searching for the pregnancy test I'd hidden there. I wanted to save the news of my unexpected pregnancy for the end of the evening. Lucian's right-hand man, Marco, asked with a suggestive smile in Italian: "Don, your new little canary, Sophia. How does she taste?" Lucian's mocking laughter vibrated through my chest, sending a chill down my spine. He replied, also in Italian: "Like an unripe peach. Fresh and tender." His hand was still caressing my waist, but his gaze was distant. "Just keep this between us. If my Donna finds out, I'm a dead man." His men chuckled knowingly, raising their glasses and swearing their silence. The warmth in my blood turned to ice, inch by inch. The one thing they didn’t know was that my grandmother was from Sicily, so I understood every word. I forced myself to remain calm, keeping the perfect smile of a Donna fixed in place, but the hand holding my champagne flute trembled. Instead of making a scene, I opened my phone, found the invitation I had received a few days ago for a private international medical research project, and tapped "Accept." In three days, I would disappear from Lucian's world completely.

The New Year was just around the corner. While I was doing a thorough cleaning, I stumbled upon something beneath the couch. It was a damp, used condom, and it still had a faint lipstick stain on the edge. One thing I was sure of was that I didn't use this brand, but the lipstick color? It matched perfectly with my girlfriend Lindsey Stirling's.

Fresh from a business trip, my husband swept me into his arms and pulled me toward the bathroom for a passionate shared bath. As our lips met in a dizzying kiss, I noticed something odd out of the corner of my eye: the toilet lid was down. Seven years ago, after reading an online article claiming that men urinating while standing could splash bacteria onto the seat, he insisted we always keep the lid up for hygiene's sake. In all our years of marriage, it had never been lowered until now. A chill ran through me. The bathroom was pristine, not a stray hair in sight. But then I noticed the shower's water temperature was set five degrees higher than the 98.6°F he always preferred. Men preferred cooler water, and women warmer. In an instant, I realized that Nick Doyle had betrayed me.