She Became The Evil Woman

Kimberly Wilson had been married to Steven Smith for two years. When Steven proposed a divorce, she agreed without hesitation. Holding a huge fortune, she began to wealth freely. The Wilson family had only one child, so who would be family continuity? Simple, she said, 'Help me post a message offering a high reward for pregnancy.' It read, "Due to my husband's car accident rendering him infertile, seeking a healthy male for surrogacy. Generous compensation." As for the requirements, 'Must be handsome, have an excellent physique, graduated from an Ivy League school, and be good in bed. Price is negotiable.' Her highly efficient personal assistant, whom she had hired at great expense, sent over photos of applicants the next day. One ultimately met her criteria and even exceeded her expectations. The side profile in the photo, noble and aloof, looked familiar. She immediately decided, 'Okay, It's him.' 'He's available anytime, but he has one prerequisite.' her assistant informed. Kimberly raised an eyebrow, 'What requirement?' 'He's a bit shy, so the lights must be off.' Only later did she realize what trouble she had gotten into. The man was not only the sole heir to the multi-billion luxury goods group-Garcia group but also the best friend of her ex-husband. Steven didn't wait for Kimberly to reconcile as usual but instead heard the news of her new romance. Despairing, he said, 'I can live without her. Don't try to persuade me.' But later, drunk, he called in the middle of the night. 'Kiki...' His voice was choked up. A cold male voice responded from the other end, 'May I ask why you're calling my wife in the middle of the night?' '......'

Once I became pregnant, I was hailed as the most precious woman in the underworld. My husband, the new Don of the Jenkins family, shut down an entire private hospital wing for my check-ups, while my father, the Collins Don, summoned every Michelin-starred chef in New York to the estate, just so I could pick whatever I craved. The baby I carried was destined to be the sole heir of the two most powerful mafia families. But on the day we were to sign the papers securing my child's inheritance, they both vanished. "An urgent family matter came up," my husband, Vincent, said, kissing my forehead. "We can finalize the child's inheritance when we get back. There's no rush." Shortly after they left, I received a link to an anonymous live stream. My father's voice came from the video, colder than I had ever heard it. "You're saying your marriage contract with Evangeline was never valid. Doesn't that make the child a bastard?" Vincent, lounging in a club, blew a smoke ring. Cradled in his arms was my half sister, Sarah. "Evangeline has always had all the love and affection. Her child will want for nothing." "Sarah has been mocked for her status for years. I have to make things right for her, give our child a legitimate name." In that moment, my heart seized, and I could barely breathe. Then my phone vibrated again. It was a text message: "Welcome home to the Gallo family, my queen." "Just give the word, and the child you carry will bear the Gallo name and become the most powerful heir in the American underworld."

Kyle Wilson fell in love with his maid Bella, when he met her for the first time upon his arrival into his country. His friend Theo Walcott was against the whole idea of him loving a maid and helping her gain admission into college, but the table turned when he fell in love with Bella's Best Friend, who also belongs to a lower class family like Bella.

My husband's first love jumped to her death due to depression and landed right on me as I was passing by. I was rendered unconscious on the spot and subsequently rushed to the ICU. However, my orthopedic surgeon husband stayed by his first love's side to comfort her over her minor scratches. He even refused to sign my Critical Care Notification. "Whoever joined her charade can get lost along with her! Come to me when she's really dead!" he said. It wasn't until he received a death certificate that he realized in horror—the deceased's information was identical to mine.

Rita Brown once loved Liam Wilson deeply, and used to believe that during the eight years of their marriage she could win his cold heart and make him love her. She thought she had given him everything! But she was so wrong to think so. So wrong to have loved him from the start. But she didn't realize she would have to give even more to get killed by Liam. She was pushed down from the stairs by him and She watched as Liam looked at her coldly and said mercilessly, " You deserve to die!" Rita was heartbroken at that very moment and swore to herself that if she could live through this, she would get a divorce. Luckily for her, she was reborn and time flew back to three years ago. Now that she had gotten one more chance at life, she swore never to be crazy over Liam and never allow what happened in her past life to repeat itself. She took back her obsession with him, but this time Liam wouldn’t Let her go. When she tried to escape away, he grabbed her waist to his, and said to her, “Do you think you can escape after wining my heart over.” Rita smiled… Did this scumbag think she would fall for him the second time?

In their two years of marriage, Helma King’s husband had been home no more than ten times. The last time he was home, he asked for a divorce. In her devastation, she got into an accident and lost her memory! No longer blinded by love, she refused to humble herself for the sake of peace. Instead, she resumed her position as the little princess of the wealthiest King family. With her headstrong and sassy personality, she kicked ass and taught all the scumbags a lesson. During a show, a reporter asked, “Miss King, is it true that you filed for a divorce because someone stole your husband?” Helma King smiled. “He’s just a man. If she wants him, she can have him. There are plenty of men to go around.” Hearing that, everyone turned to look at Young Master Guller, Helma King’s ex-husband, who was scowling with bloodshot eyes.

My wife, Rochelle Willoughby, went on a business trip for five months. When I picked her up at the airport, she showed up with her true love instead. I noticed her baby bump and was about to ask some questions, but she shoved me away like I was some disgusting piece of trash. "Don't touch me with your grubby hands. I'm pregnant with Samuel's baby. If you hurt it somehow, I'll kill you!" Then, she gently held Samuel Riverson's hand. "You must be exhausted. Let's go home." She left me at the airport without so much as a glance. I saw them off and quietly rubbed the part Rochelle shoved. Then, I contacted my divorce lawyer. Ten years. This marriage finally came to an end.

He was inside me when I realized I didn't even know his name. I'm Harper and my life went to shit the day I walked in on my husband balls deep in my best friend. He threw divorce papers at me like I was nothing. So I got drunk in LA and let a stranger fuck me in ways that made me forget I ever had a husband. His fingers. His tongue. The way he pinned my wrists above my head and made me beg. I came three times before dawn and slipped out while he was sleeping. Biggest mistake of my life. Because now he's sitting across from me at my job interview with that same hungry look in his eyes. Hardin Wolfe. Billionaire. Ruthless bastard. The man who's been looking for me since I left his bed. "I've been searching for you," he says, and I feel it between my thighs. I need this job. I need to destroy the people who destroyed me. But working for Hardin means late nights alone in his office. Business trips with one hotel room. His hand on my lower back burning through my clothes. I keep saying no. He keeps getting closer. When he finally gets me alone on a work trip, I stop fighting it. He fucks me against the window where anyone could see and I don't care. I'm addicted to the way he makes me feel. Powerful. Wanted. Alive. Then I miss my period. I'm pregnant and it could be his. Or it could be my ex husband's from our last hate fuck before the divorce. Now my ex wants me back. Hardin's hiding something that could ruin everything. And I'm carrying a baby that might belong to the wrong man. Revenge never felt this good

Lara Dela Cruz was a normal girl—well, normal in the sense that she was an overworked call center agent who hated her boss, loved iced coffee, and had mastered the art of sarcasm to survive the horrors of capitalism. But one night, while rushing home, she slipped on a puddle (thanks to her horrible luck) and hit her head hard on the pavement. When she woke up… she wasn’t in her world anymore. Instead, she found herself in a medieval kingdom, in the middle of a chaotic slave auction. And before she could even scream in protest, she was bought by the most feared man in the entire empire—Duke Alistair Von Nacht, also known as the Tyrant Duke. Now, instead of dealing with rude customers, she had to deal with an emotionally constipated warlord who could kill her with a flick of his fingers. But what’s worse? She might be falling for the grumpy tyrant.

My sister and I got into a car crash. My heart was ruptured, and I needed immediate surgery if I were to live. My mother, being the director of her hospital, sent all the doctors to my sister instead, all just to check on her. She barely got hurt. I pleaded and begged for my mother to save me, but impatience got the better of her. She roared, "This isn't the time to take any attention away from your sister! She almost had a bone fracture!" And I died. I remember where it was. It was a freezing operating theater.