After My Husband Stole My Designs, I Took Everything Novel Cover

After My Husband Stole My Designs, I Took Everything

8.3 / 10.0
Betrayed by the man she loved, a talented designer faces a devastating reality when her husband steals her creative work to further his own career. Left with nothing but her broken trust, she refuses to remain a victim. Embarking on a path of calculated retribution, she maneuvers through high-society power plays to reclaim her legacy. As she dismantles his empire, she discovers that taking everything back is just the start of her new life.
After My Husband Stole My Designs, I Took Everything Summary
Betrayed by the man she loved, a talented designer faces a devastating reality when her husband steals her creative work to further his own career. Left with nothing but her broken trust, she refuses to remain a victim. Embarking on a path of calculated retribution, she maneuvers through high-society power plays to reclaim her legacy. As she dismantles his empire, she discovers that taking everything back is just the start of her new life.
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After My Husband Stole My Designs, I Took Everything Chapter 1

I lay there, trapped in my own body, unable to move, unable to scream—but I could hear everything.

Seth's ragged breathing. The soft, wet sounds of lips meeting. The rustle of fabric as fingers skimmed over skin in the dim glow of my hospital room.

Right in front of me.

Iris Flores moaned softly, her voice saccharine, teasing. "Seth… Emily's right here."

A pause. His breath hitched. But then, his voice—low and hoarse. "She can't do anything, Iris."

A hand slid beneath fabric, a quiet gasp followed.

My nails would have dug into my palms if I could move them. My body was useless, but my mind was screaming.

Seth Kelly—my husband, the man I gave everything to—held another woman in his arms, touching her the way he once touched me.

And Iris… my supposed best friend, the woman who had stolen my life, my dreams, my happiness.

They thought I was nothing more than a broken doll.

But they were wrong.

Because I was waking up.

And when I did, I wouldn't stop until I ruined them both.

...

The moment the scalding liquid splashed across her face, Emily Wagner's world turned into a nightmare.

The pain was immediate—white-hot, searing agony that ate through her skin like wildfire. A scream ripped from her throat as she collapsed onto the pavement, her hands clawing at her burning face. The acrid stench of scorched flesh filled the air, mingling with the gasps and horrified whispers of onlookers.

Somewhere in the distance, she heard sirens wailing. But all she could think about was the Kensington Design Competition. She had won—she had secured first place. And now, her future, her dreams, her very existence, had been reduced to this—smoke, pain, and devastation.

Then came the final blow.

From her hospital bed, Emily watched the televised announcement, her mangled reflection barely recognizable in the screen's glow.

"This year's true champion, the incredibly talented Iris Flores!"

Applause. Cheers. And there, standing beside the host, was her fiancé, Magnus Kelly.

Hand in hand with Iris.

The cameras zoomed in, capturing the way Magnus held Iris close, pressing a kiss to her forehead, his voice smooth as silk.

"Iris deserves this. She's always been the real artist."

Emily's breath hitched. The betrayal sliced deeper than the acid ever could.

Her best friend. Her fiancé.

A guttural scream of rage and agony tore from her throat.

Three days later, Emily crashed the wedding, demanding answers from the organizers, only to face ridicule from the guests because of her appearance.

The grand ballroom of the St. Clair Hotel was drenched in golden light, laughter and champagne filling the air. Iris, in a lace-covered designer gown, looked radiant as she clung to Magnus's arm, batting her lashes at him like a love-struck girl.

And then—Emily appeared at the entrance.

A collective gasp swept through the room. Guests whispered behind gloved hands. Some recoiled.

"Oh my God…" someone murmured.

With slow, deliberate steps, Emily strode down the aisle, the pristine white carpet now tainted by her presence.

"Why?" she rasped, her voice hoarse from grief and rage. "Why, Magnus?"

Silence. Then, Magnus turned, his lips curling in distaste.

"You're embarrassing yourself, Emily."

Iris sighed dramatically, pressing a delicate hand to her chest. "We didn't want you to find out this way…"

"You stole my life!" Emily spat, her fingers trembling. "My designs! My future! Everything!"

Magnus sighed, as if she were nothing more than an inconvenience.

"Emily, you were never meant to be the star. You were just—" He waved a hand vaguely. "A stepping stone."

Laughter rippled through the guests.

Something inside Emily shattered.

But before she could collapse, someone stepped forward.

Seth Kelly.

Magnus's younger brother, usually the quiet, observant one, suddenly dropped to one knee before her.

"I'll marry you."

Gasps.

Emily's vision blurred as she stared down at him, utterly stunned.

Seth's hands trembled, but his voice was firm. "Emily, I've loved you for years. I don't care what you look like. If you'll have me—I swear, I'll cherish you forever."

Tears burned Emily's eyes.

Everyone around her had betrayed her. But Seth… he was offering her an escape. A future.

And so, with rage and heartbreak twisting inside her, she whispered, "Yes."

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After My Husband Stole My Designs, I Took Everything of Contents

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