Elara Voss

For five years, Vivian sacrificed her brilliant scientific career to be the perfect wife to billionaire Dylan Hudson and a devoted mother to their son, Allen. Her reward? Her husband's cold indifference and her son's cruel rejection, both secretly manipulated by Dylan’s two-faced assistant, Hazel.

When her five-year-old son screams, "You're not my real mom! I want Hazel!", Vivian's heart finally shatters. She signs the divorce papers and walks away without looking back.

But Vivian isn't just a desperate housewife. She is the hidden heiress to the powerful Wilson family and a genius scientist. As she reclaims her empire and catches the eye of a devoted, even wealthier single father, Dylan realizes the massive mistake he made.

Now, her billionaire ex-husband and the son who pushed her away are on their knees, desperate to win her back. But Vivian only has one cold answer: "It's too late."

I was the world's most feared assassin — retired for eight years. For love, I became a docile, obedient fiancée. Then I walked in on my fiancé tangled up with his closest confidante.

"Emily is a complete bore. No one understands me the way you do." His whispered endearments landed like blades.

My former organization came knocking. Old enemies arrived with blood on their hands. Time and again, I bled to keep him safe — and every time, he turned right back into her arms.

One thin wall between us. Him. Her. No shame, no restraint. I gripped the poison-tipped dagger in my fist as the last of my tenderness shattered behind my eyes.

I was ready to walk away — until his mother, Elizabeth, was diagnosed with a terminal illness. For her sake, I swallowed every wound and stayed.

When Elizabeth took a bullet shielding me and died, every mask I had ever worn was ripped away at once.

This game played in the name of love — I will be the one to settle the score.

Everything he owes me, I am coming to collect. With interest. Every last drop.

The day she was diagnosed with cancer, she discovered the truth — three years of marriage had been a fraud. Dominic had never legally registered their union. She was just a cover.

He leaned in, voice soft. "Stop being dramatic. You'll always be Mrs. Sinclair."

She didn't want it anymore.

What no one knew: this "convenient wife" was X — the world's top hacker, silent founder of three tech companies, holder of dozens of patents. One line of her code could bring the entire Sinclair Group to its knees.

She dropped the divorce papers on the coffee table.

Dominic smirked. "You think you have leverage?"

Then at the investor pitch, the mysterious power player made it clear — "Unless Mrs. Sinclair takes full control, the deal is dead."

Dominic stared at the crumpled papers in his fist. For the first time, he realized he had never truly known her.

But her time was running out.