Which Actor Delivered 'He Did It Again Didn'T He' Best?

“You are already divorced, Maya. You signed the papers two months ago. You just didn’t read them.” For eight years, Maya Mason endured a loveless marriage of convenience to billionaire Mason Hargrove, three miscarriages, endless sacrifices, and quiet devotion, only to discover betrayal on their anniversary…. Her husband’s affair with her best friend Selina, who’s now four months pregnant with his heir. In one devastating afternoon, Mason reveals he tricked her into signing divorce papers, strips her of her project, and lets Selina claim everything. Maya drops her rings, resigns, and walks away, owning forty-nine percent of the empire he thought was his alone. Enter Alexander Voss, Mason’s charismatic rival and the man who once saw Maya’s true worth. As Mason scrambles to chase the wife he discarded, Maya builds a new life, and a new future with the one person who never underestimated her. A steamy billionaire romance of betrayal, divorce, revenge, redemption, and a scorching second-chance love that proves some hearts are worth fighting for, after they’ve already been broken.

At three in the morning, my husband, Nolan Thomson, started talking in his sleep. "My baby, be good. Daddy's getting you and Mommy a new house tomorrow." I shot awake. We'd always used protection. What baby? I shoved his shoulder. "What did you just say?" He rolled over, eyes still shut. "Just a nightmare. Dreamed some client was chasing me over money." I didn't push it. In the dark, I grabbed his phone and unlocked it. Three months ago, there was a $50,000 transfer. [Down payment.] [Recipient: Kelsey Ward.] I searched her name. The first thing on her feed was an ultrasound photo. [Our little angel has been on the way. Daddy says we'll be living in a big house by the time you're here.] Posted the day after Nolan sent the money. I screenshotted everything and sent it straight to my dad. [Dad, your perfect son-in-law didn't just cheat. He got another woman pregnant. I want him walking away with nothing.]

Before I could shove my wife, Cheryl Craig, into the ocean, I turned myself in. The security guard frowned. "What? Are you saying that you're going to kill someone on this cruise?" I nodded. "It's 5:05 p.m. right now. In 20 minutes, I'll push my wife off this cruise ship. You need to arrest me, now." He stared at me like I had lost my mind. "You've got to be kidding! I've never seen anyone confess before the crime." He waved me off and started to walk away, so I had no choice but to start smashing things in the lobby. Only when the cuffs snapped around my wrists did I finally breathe again. In my last life, Cheryl was pushed off this very ship and fell into the ocean. Before I could even finish arranging her funeral, the police came for me. The ship's security footage clearly showed me pushing her overboard, but at that exact time, I was in a room with my father. There was no way I could've done it. I asked my father to testify for me, but he said I had already been planning to kill Cheryl for the insurance money because my company was falling apart. In the end, I was sentenced to death for murder. Even as I faced execution, I still couldn't understand it. I didn't do it, so why did everyone insist that I had? When I opened my eyes again, I was back to before Cheryl fell into the ocean.

The day of the verdict, Simon—my fiancé—begged me to take the deal. "I know you're innocent, but Nancy's pregnant. I can't let her go to jail." Tears. Fake concern. "This is for your own good," he said, holding my hand. I signed it. In my last life, I refused—and paid for it with prison, torture, and infertility. This time? I played along. By morning, headlines screamed I'd stolen trade secrets. Nancy? Front and center. "Yeah, it was her. I saw her sneak into Johnston Group with my own eyes!" But when court opened that afternoon, Clark—yes, the plaintiff—stepped up and dropped the case. Then, in front of everyone, he pulled out a ring, dropped to one knee, and said, "Heidi Wynn, this time... will you marry me?"

Ten years with Don Maximus. I went from the crazy girl who demanded his "undying loyalty" at gunpoint to Chicago's perfect Donna. When Maximus took the casino's hottest stripper to his private room, I didn't lose my mind. Instead, I tossed the woman the keys to a Manhattan penthouse. When Maximus's new flame threw a tantrum at a yacht party, I didn't bat an eye. Instead, after she slapped a waiter in a fit of pique, I made the police problem go away. When Maximus fought with one of his girls, I'd even send her a limited-edition Birkin to smooth things over. And today, Maximus is busy fucking his hot new toy in the study, while another pregnant mistress stands on the estate's rooftop, threatening to jump just to see him. And I'm still the one in my red-bottom heels, calmly going to clean up his mess. The mistress screamed, desperate. "I'm not having this baby! Get Maximus!" I took a sip of my wine, my voice bored. "He's busy today. You have the baby, and I'll make sure seven figures show up in your offshore account." My indifference set her off. She grabbed my wrist, her grip like iron. "You're pathetic, Angelina! There was a time he wouldn't even look at another woman because of you. He slaughtered an entire family for you. When you were shot, he knelt in the pouring rain outside a church, begging God to take his life for yours! But now? You can't even get into his bed. All you can do is stand here and play the gracious Donna!" Her nails left red marks on my skin, but the smile on my face didn't crack. Did she really think a little drama would change anything? I wasn't playing the gracious Donna. I was just done. And I was finally ready to let Maximus go.

After years of investment from my company, my boyfriend finally broke into show business. At last, he won an Oscar. True to his promise, he married me. Then, during a backstage interview, he said, "It was transactional. I had to marry her in exchange for the funding." His braindead fans came after me soon afterward. They stalked me and, one day, poured sulfuric acid over my face. The attack left me disfigured. He sent me to the hospital, but that was just another part of his scheme. Before long, the world believed I had died from complications. When I returned to life, I decided to invest in someone else. After all, he was the only person who had mourned my death and given me a proper burial.