Aria Woods

After years of marriage, my husband has always believed that our one-night stand was a trap I set for him.
There’s another woman in his heart.
What I never expected was that even my own son would turn his back on me.

The day I was diagnosed with a terminal illness, my husband was still thrusting into me, emptying himself with a roar.
The moment he finished, I opened my mouth to tell him I had three months to live.
He cut me off.
'Lindsey's back. Let's get a divorce.'
My heart died in that instant.

They wanted a real daughter, so they traded me for her.
On the engagement day, my fiancé slipped a ring on her finger. My parents handed me a train ticket to oblivion.
They celebrated their victory while I disappeared.
What they didn't realize was that letting me go was the worst mistake of their lives.
I am the surgical prodigy saving lives that science deems hopeless. I am the muse of the art world. I am the true heir to a dynasty they couldn't even dream of.
Now, I am back.
Not as the girl they abandoned, but as the storm they prayed would never come.
My ex-fiancé kneels in regret. My fake sister chokes on her jealousy. And the CEO who once looked through me? He is now crawling, desperate to taste the success he once threw away.
The joke isn't on me.
It's on them.

When their real daughter came home, my foster parents threw me out like trash.
But before I could even leave, my foster sister pinned a murder charge on me.
I watched the police rush toward me. Then I lifted my foster sister's arm—the one still marked with fresh needle punctures—and smiled at the crowd.
They had no idea who they were dealing with.
Beneath this unremarkable face, I am a once-in-a-century medical genius, a phantom hacker, an elite designer... Even if my birth family lived in the poorest slum in the city, I could give them a life beyond their wildest dreams.
But then, the cheerful jingle of an ice cream truck cut through the chaos.
And a fleet of Rolls-Royces pulled up behind it.
Turns out, my real family isn't poor at all. They might just be the richest people in the country.
Well then. The game just changed.

As a wife and mother, she came home one day to find another woman in her place.
That was when she knew. This marriage was beyond saving.
The lies and deception were just a thin veil no one bothered to see through. The favoritism. The blame. Year after year, cutting into her like glass.
When the birthday cake she had fought so hard to get ended up in the trash, she swallowed her tears along with the bitterness.
Giving up became inevitable. So did the divorce.
It wasn't until dust settled on her vanity table that her husband and children finally realized—home had become a cold, empty coffin.

Eight months pregnant, strung up and tortured by her own husband — because he decided the baby wasn't his.
She nursed him back from his accident. Held his family together with her bare hands. And another woman wore the crown that was hers.
They plastered her face across explicit photos. Forged the paternity test. Took everything — even her name.
She watched, screaming, shattering — as her husband ripped their newborn from her arms and threw the child into a cage of beasts.
Her mother couldn't take it. She jumped.
Her father was tortured until she couldn't recognize his face.
She begged to live. They wouldn't let her.
She begged to die. They wouldn't let her either.
Until she was reborn.
She remembers every face. Every wound. Every scream.
And this time, there will be no mercy.

My husband cut my unborn child from my womb right in front of his mistress—and fed the baby to a leopard.
I screamed until my voice broke. No one came.
I clutched a stranger's severed head, my soul shattering into a thousand irreparable pieces.
Accused of adultery. Branded the mother of an illegitimate child. They even carved out my kidney—while I was still breathing—to transplant into his mistress.
My life had reached its end. And no one mourned.
Then the wheels of fate turned backward, and I woke up on the day of our engagement.
My hands were trembling. My heart was whole. And I remembered everything.
I looked out at the expectant faces of our guests—and at the man who would become my husband. The man who would destroy me.
He smiled at me, waiting.
And I said: No. I don't.