Elara Dawn

For seven years, Elara Thorne lived in the shadow of her own marriage. While her tech mogul husband Damien showered attention on his mistress, Elara played the perfect corporate wife—making his coffee, organizing his schedule, and watching her six-year-old daughter Cora grow closer to the other woman.

The other woman who happened to be her half-sister.

Vivienne Dubois had everything Elara didn't—Damien's heart, Cora's adoration, and the respect of everyone at Thorne Industries. When Elara flew home hoping to celebrate her birthday with her family, she found them planning a surprise party for Vivienne instead. When little Cora innocently asked if Vivienne could be her mommy, something inside Elara finally snapped.

Elara had been a brilliant AI researcher before marriage stole her ambitions. She'd co-founded YodaVision Technologies, only to abandon it all for a man who never loved her back. But now Julian Croft, her former partner, wants her to return as Chief Innovation Officer. The tech world that forgot her exists is about to remember why she was once called a visionary.

Walking away seems impossible when it means leaving Cora behind. But staying means accepting a life where she's invisible in her own home, humiliated at her own workplace, and competing with her half-sister for scraps of attention from her own family.

Damien thinks his wife will quietly accept whatever he gives her, the way she always has. He's about to discover that seven years of silence doesn't mean surrender—it means she's been planning her comeback. And when Elara Vance reclaims her name, her career, and her power, the tech world won't be the only thing shaken.

Some women bend. Others break. But the smart ones? They rebuild themselves stronger than before.

My Coldhearted Husband’s Regret

"I won't be attending Clara's birthday celebration."


Damien's words came through my phone speaker with typical finality. No apology. No explanation. Just a statement of fact delivered in his usual detached manner.


I hadn't expected anything different, yet disappointment still pricked at me. Not for myself—I'd long stopped hoping for his presence in my life—but for my grandmother, who still held a fondness for him despite everything.


"I see," I replied evenly. "I'll let her know."


"I've arranged for a gift to be delivered," he added, his tone businesslike. "It should arrive tomorrow morning."


Of course he had. Damien Thorne never missed an opportunity to fulfill social obligations with expensive presents that required zero personal involvement.


"Thank you," I said, the politeness automatic after years of practice.


A brief silence stretched between us before he spoke again. "Cora will be ready at six on Friday."


The Unspoken Judgment