Genius Wife's Revenge: Too Late For Regret

For two years, I played the role of the "Midwestern mistake," the mousey wife Julian Ford-Sterling IV kept hidden like a shameful secret. I hid my true self behind thick glasses and ashen foundation, acting as the perfect, cowed charity case while he lived a life of marble and indifference. The day our marriage contract ended, the headlines were already screaming about his affair with Hollywood’s sweetheart, Lana Vane. Julian didn't even grant me a final conversation; he simply sent his legal team to hand me divorce papers that gave me nothing—no alimony, no shares, just a non-disclosure agreement and a one-way ticket out of his life. I signed the papers and walked away, but a drugged encounter in a dark club that same night led me back into his arms. We collided in the shadows, two strangers stripped of their titles, but I fled before dawn, accidentally leaving behind my vintage silver locket. By the time I reached my secret design studio the next morning, I discovered Julian had executed a hostile takeover of my entire life’s work. To my horror, Lana Vane was already there, clutching my stolen locket and shamelessly claiming she was the woman Julian had spent the night with. Julian stood before me in his charcoal suit, looking at me with total lack of recognition. To him, I was just a "gold-digging" architect he had bought along with the furniture. I watched them together, the man who had discarded me and the woman who had stolen my identity, realizing that Julian was obsessed with the genius of "Rose" while despising the woman who stood right in front of him. He had no idea that the wife he’d just divorced was the very person he was now desperate to control. I straightened my spine, my violet-blue eyes cold and lethal behind my new designer frames. "Mr. Ford-Sterling, you wanted the best designer in the city? You’ve got her. But you should know—I don't just build empires. I know exactly how to tear them down."

Chapters

Chapter 6

The elevator ride to the 40th floor of the Sterling Tower took exactly 45 seconds. Vivian counted every one of them to keep her heart rate under 70 beats per minute.

When the doors opened, she stepped into the chaos that was the Design Department.

It was a sea of panic. The original S.W. team was huddled in corners, clutching their coffee cups like life rafts. The Sterling HR team was moving through the space like sharks, dropping policy manuals on desks with loud thuds.

"Vivian!"

Winnie, the intern, came running over. She was a tiny girl with glasses too big for her face-a painful reminder of Vivian's own disguise.

"Are you okay?" Winnie whispered. "They fired three people already. They say the new standards are impossible."

Vivian squeezed Winnie's shoulder. "Breathe, Win. It's just corporate posturing. They need us."

"Attention!" A sharp voice cut through the room.

A woman in a severe grey suit stood on a platform. "I am Mrs. Gable, Head of HR. From this moment on, all creative IP belongs to Sterling Group. No freelance work. No side projects. And..." She scanned the room, her eyes landing on Vivian. "Miss Sullivans. Mr. Ford-Sterling expects you in the penthouse immediately."

The room went silent. Xavier, the former Creative Director of Sterling who had been demoted to merge with S.W., smirked from his desk.

"Looks like someone's in trouble," he sneered.

Vivian ignored him. She smoothed her skirt, lifted her chin, and walked back to the elevator.

The ride to the penthouse was silent. When the doors opened, Gavin was waiting. He did a double-take when he saw her.

"You..." he stammered. "The crash."

"Is he in?" Vivian asked, breezing past him.

"Yes, but..."

Vivian pushed open the double mahogany doors.

Julian was sitting behind a desk that looked like it had been carved from the hull of a pirate ship. He was reading a file. He didn't look up.

"Sit."

Vivian sat. The chair was low, forcing her to look up at him. A classic power move.

Julian closed the file and looked at her. Recognition flickered in his eyes-not of his wife, but of the woman from the street.

"So," he said, leaning back. "Vivian Sullivans. The woman who destroys my cars and my acquisitions."

"I didn't destroy the acquisition," Vivian said evenly. "You bought it. Hostilely."

"And you came with the furniture." Julian picked up a pen. "I've reviewed your portfolio. The work under the alias 'Rose'. It's... adequate."

Vivian felt a vein in her temple throb. "Adequate?" Her designs had won awards in Milan under that name. "It is exceptional."

"It shows potential," Julian corrected, though his eyes betrayed him. He had spent the last hour marveling at the blueprints, wondering how a ghost could design with such life. But he wouldn't give her the satisfaction. Negotiation 101: never let the asset know their value. "Confidence," Julian mused. "I like that. But here at Sterling, we require obedience." He slid a document across the desk. "This is a supplementary contract. It binds you to the 'Rose' identity exclusively for Sterling. And it increases the penalty clause."

Vivian read it. It was a golden cage.

"Why?" she asked. "Why do you want Rose so badly?"

Julian stood up and walked to the window. "Because my ex-wife," he said, the word dripping with disdain, "had zero taste. She filled my life with beige. Rose... Rose understands passion. Color. Life. I want that energy in this company to wash away the stench of mediocrity."

Vivian gripped the armrests of the chair. He was talking about her. He was insulting her to her face, praising her alter ego to replace the memory of her real self.

The irony was so thick she could choke on it.

"Your ex-wife," Vivian said, testing the waters. "She must have been terrible."

Julian laughed, a harsh sound. "She was a ghost. A contractual obligation. She had no spine, no fire. Unlike you." He turned to face her. "You have fire, Miss Sullivans. I saw it in the street."

Vivian stared at him. "Maybe she just didn't show it to you because you never looked."

Julian's eyes narrowed. The air in the room grew heavy. He walked around the desk until he was leaning against the front of it, inches from her knees.

"Are you married, Miss Sullivans?"

"Divorced," she said quickly. "Recently."

"Good," Julian said. "Then you know that marriage is a trap. Work... work is honest." He tapped the contract. "Sign it. Or pay the fifty million."

Vivian picked up the pen. Her hand shook, just once. She signed.

Vivian Sullivans.

"Welcome to the team," Julian said. He reached out a hand.

Vivian took it. His skin was warm, calloused. A shock of electricity shot up her arm, just like in the hotel room.

Julian pulled his hand back sharply, as if he had been burned. He looked at her hand, then her face, confusion clouding his eyes.

"That's all," he dismissed her, turning his back.

Vivian stood up and walked to the door. Before she left, she turned.

"Mr. Sterling?"

"What?"

"Beige is a very calming color. Maybe you just needed peace."

She slammed the door before he could respond.

Julian stared at the closed door. He rubbed his hand where he had touched her.

"Who the hell is she?" he whispered.

Continue to next part

For ten years, I was the family pariah, framed for a crime that destroyed my brother's career. My husband, Mark, never believed my innocence. Instead, he fell for the lies of my sister-in-law, Elsa-the woman who orchestrated my downfall. On our tenth anniversary, he stood me up to celebrate with her and our daughter. When I finally confronted him with divorce papers, he threw me out into a blizzard. My own daughter looked at me with cold, dismissive eyes. "Elsa said she should have been my mom." Left to freeze on the side of the road, my heart didn't just break; it turned to ash. The decade of abuse had finally killed every last bit of love I had. But I didn't die. A stranger saved me, and with his help, I found the one piece of evidence I needed to burn their world to the ground. Now, at the divorce settlement, I look at their smug faces and press play on a hidden recorder. "The world will soon know exactly who owes whom."

Action Mystery Romance

8.7

Bloodhoundhearts

8.7

Aiden is the Bloodhound the Council's most feared assassin, a vampire prince whose soul has been hollowed out by centuries of shadow and state-sanctioned slaughter. Elena is a Seer of the Vance line a woman of the mountain whose silver flame was meant to heal, not to spark a revolution. When their paths collide in the high spires of a corrupt capital, they don't just find love; they ignite a war that spans from the depths of the Sunken Vaults to the spectral currents of the Forbidden Coast. Now, fleeing the ruins of a broken empire, they carry the ultimate secret: Caelum, a child of the Harmony. Born during a solar eclipse, he is the Third Way a hybrid heir with the power to either unite the warring forces of light and dark or become a beacon of chaos that levels the continent. With the mechanical genius of a mad inventor, the iron will of a blacksmith's son, and the cryptic guidance of a five-hundred-year-old Oracle, Aiden and Elena must protect their son from enemies both ancient and new. From the obsidian breach-engines of the Council to the void-stained magic of Lyra, the first fallen Seer, the hunt is on. In a realm where blood defines destiny, can a monster become a father? Can a healer survive the abyss? And when the choice comes to sacrifice half of his soul, will the Child of the Harmony have the strength to forge a new dawn?

Action Fantasy Vampire

9.4

BOUND BY THE ALPHA

9.4

Xander Laven is the Alpha every pack fears-ruthless, commanding, and impossible to defy. He came to the gathering to find a submissive Luna to bear his heir. Instead, he found *her*. Chayse Vega is a fire-blooded Delta who'd rather fight than flirt. She never wanted a mate, especially not the arrogant, domineering Alpha Laven. Their first encounter explodes into a battle of wills-he's possessive and demanding, she's defiant and untamable. The mate bond burns between them, but can two wolves this stubborn survive each other?

Action Romance Werewolf

9.3

Buying The Exiled Heir: He Is Mine

9.3

Alyssa Gregory slept with Benton Steele, a recently disgraced and bankrupt heir, just to humiliate him. She threw a massive check at his bare chest, treating the former prince of Wall Street like a cheap escort. But Benton didn't take the charity. Instead, he manipulated her anger, tricking her into signing an ironclad contract that surrendered absolute control of her entire trust fund to him. When her abusive mother found out she had funded a penniless outcast, she slapped Alyssa across the face. Her mother froze all her bank accounts, locked her inside her bedroom, and arranged to sell her off to a degenerate politician. Desperate to escape, Alyssa climbed down her balcony, falling fifteen feet and shattering her ankle on the stones below. Stripped of her money and freedom, she dragged her broken body to a VIP club just to publicly declare that Benton belonged to her. She thought she was the boss, playing a rebellious game with a broken man. But when Benton effortlessly carried her away from the club and locked her inside his rundown apartment, the terrifying calculation in his dark eyes shattered her illusion. How could a man stripped of his entire empire still radiate such suffocating, violent power? "You bought me," Benton whispered, his massive frame trapping her against the sofa. "That means I have to take care of you." Physically trapped and completely broke, Alyssa stared into his consuming eyes, her mind racing to find a way to turn the tables.

Action Billionaire Modern

8.7

Reborn as the Villain's Wife

8.7

I died in a mangled wreck of metal and fire, abandoned by the man I thought was my soulmate. But instead of the void, I woke up pinned against a cold marble wall, staring into the turbulent, storm-gray eyes of Damian Vincent. This was the night I destroyed my life. In my past world, I spat in Damian's face and ran into the arms of Eddie, a parasitic loser who was secretly plotting with my cousin Jill to strip me of my inheritance. My "escape" turned into a slow-motion suicide. My brother Donavan died in a horrific car crash while racing to save me from another one of my messes. Damian, consumed by a toxic mix of grief and vengeance, crushed the Nelson family empire until my father was a broken man. I spent years as a drugged-up social pariah, finally dying alone while the people I trusted laughed at my funeral. The most bitter realization didn't hit me until the end. The "controlling monster" I spent years fighting was the only person who ever truly protected me. I had traded a man who would burn the world for me for a man who would burn me for the world. Opening my eyes three years in the past, I find myself back at the airport, the rain lashing against the windows. My brother is pleading with me to run, and Damian is standing there, braced for the slap he thinks is coming. But I don't strike him. I press my palm to his burning cheek and give him the only piece of my soul he couldn't buy. "I'm not going anywhere, Dami. Keep this as my collateral." The game has changed. This time, I'm not the victim-I'm the one holding the match.

Action Modern Romance

9.5

The Alpha Who Humiliated Me Now Begs at My Feet

9.5

Betrayed by her pack and discarded by her fated mate, a rejected werewolf finds herself at her lowest point. After years of suffering and humiliation at the hands of the powerful Alpha who broke her heart, she undergoes a transformation that shifts the balance of power. Now, the once-arrogant leader who ruined her life is the one pleading for mercy. As secrets unravel, she must decide if he deserves redemption or a taste of his own medicine.

Action Romance Werewolf

Genius Wife's Revenge: Too Late For Regret

Chapter 6

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