The Only Way Out By Andra Day

In my seven years of being married to my husband, Mark Chapman, he always gives me whatever I ask for and prioritizes me in everything. This goes on until he keeps sending food coupons to a female college student named Hayley Larkson. Not only that, he stands up for her and beats up some thugs on her behalf. One time, he even takes her to the hospital to get treatment. Holding a toy, my daughter asks Mark innocently, "Dad, Ms. Larkson is so gentle and pretty. She's not as strict and mean as Mom, who always makes me do homework. Can you ask her to move in and be my teacher?" Mark smiles and replies, "Sure." I stand frozen in a corner, my lips trembling. Just then, the system's cold voice speaks in my mind. It asks if I want to go home. I close my eyes and reply, "Take me home."

Elise Thatcher took care of Kayden Anderson, a rich Billionaire who was in coma for three years. To make things easy for Elise to take care of Kayden, his grandma let them marry. Elise endured the harsh treatment from her in-laws for the sake of love, thinking she could melt his frozen heart. She hid her identity and healed Kayden until he could walk again. But when he recovered, he demanded a divorce coldly, bringing home his first love. Elise had enough. She forced him to sign the divorce papers and returned to claim her throne, becoming the most sought after Queen in the business world. Elise flung the papers at Kayden's face. Kayden glared at her in surprised. The people around them gasped in shock. How could Elise do this to Kayden, a multibillionaire and her husband?! "I've signed it. Don't worry. Jessie doesn't need to leave. I'll leave," Elise mocked as she walked pass them. However, Kayden grabbed ahold of her arm and pulled her back, his grip bruising and punishing. "Where do you think you're going? Kneel and apologize to Jessie!" "Apologize to her? For what?" Elise blinked her eyes innocently. She fought back a wince. Kayden was increasing his grip on her arm as if he wanted to break it. "For scaring her. You should treat her with respect," Elise burst out laughing, catching everyone off guard. Her heart felt like it was hit by a sledgehammer over and over again. "You want me, your legal wife to apologize to your mistress? Kayden, do you know what you're saying?"

“Just stay married to me for three years. After that, we divorce. In return, I’ll help you destroy your husband and the woman who took your child.” I agreed. Not because I was weak. But because I survived. I was once a devoted wife. Obedient. Loyal. Pregnant with a child I believed would save my marriage. Then his first love returned, and everything I trusted turned to blood and betrayal. We were rushed to the same hospital. I was bleeding. She was crying in his arms. There was only one operating room left. He chose her. He wheeled his mistress, his first love, into surgery and left me behind to miscarry alone. I lost my baby on a cold hospital bed while my husband held another woman’s hand. I divorced him. But some wounds do not heal. They sharpen. Now I have a contract marriage, a man with no love to give, and a plan written in patience and pain. I will take everything my ex-husband values, piece by piece, and make him beg for what he threw away. Forgiveness is for the dead. And I am very much alive. Watch out, husband. I will ruin you.

After eight years together, I took a hit for my surgeon boyfriend. Milton Woodard vowed I could ask for anything. Everyone assumed I'd seize the chance to propose, locking him down for good. Instead, I looked him in the eye and said, "Let's break up." Then I walked away without a backward glance. Milton smirked, betting with his buddies that I'd come crawling back in under three days, calling me a desperate lapdog chasing his attention. He was dead wrong because I'd been reborn. In my last life, I proposed to him and won. Overwhelmed by the news, his first love threw herself off a rooftop and killed herself. Milton unleashed his grief-fueled rage on me. On our wedding night, he slashed my face and locked me in a dank, claustrophobic basement. When I got pregnant, he force-fed me supplements until the baby grew too big for me to deliver. I hemorrhaged, torn apart, and died in agony on the birthing table. Now, reborn on the day I saved his life, I was done playing his fool.

For eight long years, Bryan Millan and I were married, but you’d never have known it by looking at his life. He never once acknowledged our relationship in public. Not a single post, not a single mention of me on his social media. Then came our anniversary. The day that was supposed to be about us. Instead, Bryan made an announcement on his Instagram account—just not the one I expected. There he was, hand in hand with his assistant, her draped in a wedding dress. The caption read: [When you're in love, you want the whole world to know.] The comments flooded in. [Bryan finally got married!] [Congrats! Wishing you a lifetime of happiness together!] In that moment, I could no longer lie to myself. Bryan wasn't reserved. He just never loved me. So, I decided to let go. But he wasn't ready for that. He clung to me, desperate now. But I pried his hands off and laughed—a real, genuine laugh, the kind that comes from somewhere deep inside when you realize you're finally free. Then, I looked him straight in the eye and said the words I'd been holding in, "Don't beg me to come back. Because now that I don't love you, I've never felt better."

Grandpa died, and we immediately went for each other's throats over the inheritance. Then a blizzard hit, trapping us all in the family estate. An app appeared on our phones: [THE LAST ZOMBIE: FINAL RECKONING]. We had to pick a hiding spot. The last one standing—the last human standing—would inherit everything. I chose the dark, silent recording studio in the basement. Away from them all. When it was time to pick special powers, my family chose powerful weapons or pocket dimensions full of supplies. I chose Bio-Stasis. It slowed my cells to a crawl, and my body along with them. My stepbrother's fiancée, Chloe, called me an idiot. "Hiding from your family and picking a useless power? You're on a suicide mission." They threw a zombie-slaying party upstairs, already celebrating an inheritance they hadn't even won. Until, one by one, they turned. And started tearing each other apart. What they didn't know... was that I'd rigged the game from the start. The only way to win was to stay completely silent.

We agreed we were going to spend Christmas together as a family of three. I briefly stepped out to grab my daughter’s Christmas gift, but quickly realized that I had forgotten my keys. However, when I came back, I was locked outside the villa. I rang the doorbell countless times, but no one came to let me in. Through the glass window, I saw my daughter happily smiling in the arms of my wife’s childhood friend who had returned from overseas. “Uncle Jones, you smell so nice. Not like my dad. He’s always sweaty and smells so gross. I don’t even want to spend Christmas with him!” My wife, Lily Quinn, looked at them indulgently and agreed. “Your dad hasn’t seen much of the world. He really doesn’t know how to celebrate holidays properly.” I froze in place as my fingers turned cold. Yara turned and saw me outside the window. Her face was filled with disgust. “What are you staring at? Why are you standing outside like some monster? You almost scared me to death! You’re not like Uncle Jones at all. He’s so elegant and well-mannered!” However, ten years ago, I was a top sales director at a well-known multinational company. Back then, I had the chance to be transferred to New York. Yet Lily unexpectedly got pregnant and suffered severe reactions. She was at constant risk of miscarriage. I voluntarily gave up that opportunity to take care of her and our daughter. Now, that sacrifice had somehow become undeniable proof of my uselessness. I took a deep breath and threw the Christmas gift I had bought for my daughter into the trash. Then I messaged someone saved in my contacts as “Apprentice”: [Is that overseas position you mentioned a few days ago still available?] The reply came almost instantly: [Of course! Mr. Lane, as long as you’re willing to come back, you’ll always have a place waiting for you!]

I was ditched by my father, Alpha of Northcrest Pack. Dumped in the borderlands for a whole decade. "Danae's still young. Once she hits eighteen, we'll bring you back. She's always been insecure 'cause she's adopted. When she's stronger, we'll come for you." Yeah, right. I didn't even look at that delusional she-wolf. Just kept watering my orchard. Even my so-called brother backed Danae. "Danae's the sister I grew up with. Disrespect her when you return, and we're done." Their voices? Just white noise. I shut it down cold. "Wrong wolf. I don't know you." They had the nerve to call themselves family. Joke's on them—I've had real parents for the last eight years.

Adeline had one choice: marry Grayson Archer, the ruthless billionaire, to save her dying mother and erase her father’s gambling debts. Five years as his contract wife meant enduring cold indifference, sharp words, and a life overshadowed by his manipulative family. When the contract ends, Adeline shocks everyone—especially Grayson—by walking away. But Grayson isn’t ready to let her go. Determined to win her back, he devises a new plan, only to discover feelings he never expected. Just as their fragile bond begins to heal, a devastating secret from his past and a betrayal Adeline can't forgive threaten to destroy everything. Can love survive the ultimate test, or will Grayson lose the only woman he’s ever truly wanted? A story of heartbreak, redemption, and second chances, Divorcing the Billionaire on Valentine's Day, will leave you breathless.

Everyone in New York knew that Don Lorenzo Capone loved his wife dearly. At the height of our love, he shielded me from a bullet that went straight through his chest. The hospital issued eleven critical condition notices. I cried myself hoarse at the door of the emergency room. "Lorenzo, don't you dare die on me, or I'll instantly find a pretty boy to marry and have children with!" He survived the ordeal, and the first thing he did when he opened his eyes was to marry me. After the marriage, he ruled over New York's largest underground empire with an iron fist, but never allowed any woman to get close to him. On our third wedding anniversary, I went to his private dock to give him a surprise. There, I saw him holding a pair of twins, teaching them how to shoot. The man who could kill without batting an eye was looking at the children with eyes full of affection. The children's mother was Elena Tribbiani, the daughter of an arms dealer who was his equal. "Lorenzo, what if Vivian finds out?" Lorenzo dismissed it casually. "A fragile porcelain doll like her is only fit to be displayed in a glass case. Only a she-wolf like you is worthy of bearing my family's cubs." It turned out, what I thought was true love was merely a carefully-woven lie. I did not confront him. Instead, I sent a text message to an FBI special agent. "Agent Smith, I have a list of the arms deal you’re investigating."