Ascendance Studio の小説・ストーリー

Synopsis: The Billionaire’s Vengeful Queen Aurora Voss-Ryder has spent ten years perfecting the role of perfect wife to billionaire Damien Ryder. On their anniversary, she gifts him a rescued AI startup worth $400 million and proof she’s the reason Ryder Corp still breathes. In return, he hands her divorce papers, a forged scandal, and a threat to leak photos of her begging. Pregnant and betrayed, Aurora walks out with nothing but a positive test and a text from a ghost: “The Voss bloodline isn’t broken. Come home.” In her mother’s abandoned Brooklyn studio, Aurora unlocks a safe containing a $12 billion secret—VossTech, an AI empire built in shadows, 51% hers if she marries within a year of her mother’s death. With joint accounts frozen and paparazzi circling, she allies with Victor Kane, her mother’s dying partner and the only man who can give her controlling interest. A paper marriage, a black diamond ring, and a syringe of custom prenatal serum later, Aurora storms the VossTech boardroom in a killer pantsuit and claims interim CEO. But Damien isn’t finished. He forges abortion records, demands custody of the unborn child, and prepares a hostile takeover. Aurora counters with offshore leaks, a turncoat mistress, and two ex-Mossad shadows in the vents. At midnight in Ryder Tower, gun drawn and city watching, she tears up his custody agreement and watches federal agents drag him away. Victory tastes like ash when Victor’s heart fails hours later. His final words warn of a “blood moon” birth and enemies still hunting the Voss gene. With her due date looming and a new message signed –E., Aurora realizes the war for her empire, her child, and her life has only begun.

Lights, Camera, Action. Rebecca Jones is currently at the pinnacle of TV dramas. But how much longer? Everyone knows they don’t see behind the scenes. Rebecca’s private life isn’t for public consumption. What secrets are hidden there? Everett Stone, Rebecca's onetime co-star. He knows several of Rebecca’s secrets as they were once secretly married. Everett’s Gena’s current costar. Everett and Gena have had a tumultuous relationship. This man really gets around. Gena D’Or wants what Rebecca has. She’ll use any means necessary to take Rebecca’s place as the Rose of Black Dawn Productions. Gena’s close to her goal after years of trying. Crooked agents, a billionaire princess, many rumors, and dropping ratings. Rebecca is desperate to survive this cutthroat business. Everett’s interested in cutting his losses after his agent played him like a newbie for years. Everett can’t prove it yet. However, he receives an offer to reprise his original role as Dane Matthews, the male love interest of his ex-wife’s character Bella Cardinal, on the night-time drama Empire Nights. Will he leave Gena’s show, Grandview Place? To return to where he started. What about his ex-wife? Nothing’s the same on the Empire Night’s set. Rebecca isn’t the same. Everett finds he’s not as immune to his ex as he believed. Can he get his backstage pass to Rebecca’s private life back? Will he save her from whatever is destroying her? Or will he be the one to destroy her? How will they respond when the studio forces Rebecca and Everett to marry for the show's ratings? Money, misdirection, celebrity, secrets, and rumors make or break everyone in this business. What happens when the curtain falls and the lights go out?

⚠️ WARNING: THIS IS NOT A SYNOPSIS. IT’S A HINT SPOILER. ⚠️ This is the Story of FOUR HUGE MEN. (And let’s be clear—this is NOT a Reverse Harem.) These guys aren't heroes. They are roles played on four shattered women who didn't see them coming. FIRST UP: STEVE HAYES. The Gym Guy. He didn’t just meet Freya—he claimed her. Owned her. And her daughter? Yeah, they’re his now too. Honestly, you’re going to end up pitying Freya’s ex… because Steve is a literal beast. THINK STEVE IS INTENSE? MEET DIESEL. The Biker. Diesel usually hates shedding blood, he’s got rules. But when it comes to Daisy? Forget the rules. He won't even think twice before painting the pavement red for her. THEN THERE'S NICO. Seriously, Nico is… just come and meet him. He’s a Tattoo Artist, and Phina only went to his studio for one thing: to erase her loser ex’s name from her hand. Guess what Nico told her while he had that needle to her skin? “You can erase him from your hand, but what about your heart? You don't need a cover-up, Phina. You need a real man to make you forget he ever touched you.” She slapped him across the face for that. Hard. GUESS WHO IS SWEATING ON NICO’S BED NOW ASKING FOR IT HARDER? AND FINALLY… LUCA. I’m not even going to say much. Just. Meet. Him. 4 MEN. 4 SHATTERED WOMEN. THEY WERE ALL TEMPTED TO RUIN. COME MEET THEM ALL AND DROP WHAT YOU THINK ABOUT EACH! AS YOU ARE ABOUT TO OPEN EACH CHAPTER, TELL ME WHO YOU CAN’T WAIT TO MEET. (I already picked my dream guy, actually... let's see if you pick the same one.)

After my parents died in a car crash, my cousin stole the compensation money and moved overseas to start a business. My aunt begged me on her knees not to call the police. Then, she locked me in a dark basement for three months. I was close to breaking down and ending my life when Julien Lawson, the neighbor’s son, broke down the basement door and saved me. “Joyce, what they did is unforgivable! They stole the compensation money for your parents’ deaths. You were going to use it to open your own studio! “Marry me. I’ll protect you.” He was the only person who cared about me after my parents died. I was so grateful that I married him and had his child. I worked three jobs during the day to help support the orphanage that Julien ran. At night, I took care of our child and created design sketches. But no matter how hard I tried, none of my work was ever accepted. Even though Julien told me to keep at it, I felt discouraged and thought of giving up on my design career to focus on our family. One day, our child was sick. I went to take over the shift from Julien when I overheard him talking to my aunt on the stairs. “Julien, it’s been ten years. Joyce’s designs are getting better and better. She even passed the first round of the national competition. Are you really not going to tell her about the next round?” my aunt asked. Her voice trembled. Julien said coldly, “For years, I’ve been sending Joyce’s design sketches to Mindy to copy and enter in the competitions or publish as her own. “To help Mindy’s career, I can’t let Joyce move on to the next round. “Joyce has talent. If people notice her, she’ll be a threat to Mindy’s career!”

Ever since I find out that my CEO husband, Rowan Goodwin, is incapable of letting his first love, Megan Dolton—who's divorced and has a child of her own—go, I begin teaching our son, Ryan Goodwin, to address Rowan as "Mr. Goodwin" all the time. When Ryan is burning up with a fever, Megan chooses to summon Rowan away from us in the middle of the night. As I caress Ryan's scalding forehead, I instruct him to tell Rowan, "Goodbye, Mr. Goodwin." When Rowan has agreed to attend the teacher-parent conference with Ryan, Megan calls him with tears streaking down her cheeks, claiming that her own son, Nelson Herrera, doesn't have a father to accompany him. So, Rowan doesn't hesitate to ditch us once again. Without bothering to raise my head, I pass my phone to Ryan so that he can take leave for "Mr. Goodwin" in the parents' group chat. Every time, Ryan always hesitates for a long time before carrying out my orders. Later on, Rowan finally realizes that he has owed us far too much. So, he takes the initiative to suggest that we take a family portrait together. When we reach the photography studio, Megan calls Rowan once again. Her sobs can be heard drifting from the loudspeaker. "Rowan, can you please come over and pick Nelson up from school? The children at the kindergarten keep making fun of him for not having a father…" Pity crosses Rowan's expression immediately. He's about to crouch down and explain to Ryan when the latter just waves airily at him without me having to nudge him. "It's fine, Mr. Goodwin. You should accompany the other child. Mommy and I are the only ones needed for the family portrait."

How long does it take to give up on a man you've loved for ten years? It takes me 3 seconds. The first second, I signed my name on the contract to become the chief designer of a renowned studio in Paris. The second second, I lock away ten years of my youth in my heart. The third second, I completely prepare to leave Levi's world. My fiancé Levi is the heir of the Smith Group, the absolute aristocracy. For others, he is untouchable. But for me, he's the childhood sweetheart who, with a crooked paper ring he made himself for the first time in his hand, told me, "You're the only girl I'll ever marry, even if I have to wait a hundred years." From that moment on, the only person I wanted to marry was Levi, and I never doubted that I would eventually marry Levi. But on the day of our engagement, he disappeared. I waited for a whole year, waiting for a message, a phone call, or a knock on the door, but nothing came. Later, he finally appeared. He stood next to a red Ferrari, holding flowers, and said that he still loved me, that he wasn't ready before, and begged me to give him another chance. I almost believed him. But at the same time, I received a provocative message from Levi's first love, Ruby: [Aren't you curious where he went during the time he eloped from your engagement? I'm already pregnant with Levi's child, and he loves kissing my pregnant belly the most.] I wiped away my tears, turned around, and applied to study in the Sorbonne University Faculty of Medicine, leaving only one sentence: "Levi, we're breaking up." Learning that I was leaving, Levi went crazy. He braved the heavy rain and blocked the entrance to my new place, his eyes red, asking me: "Stella, if I make Ruby abort the child, can you come back to me?"

He almost never texts me first, and in person he barely says a word. In three years together, he's never remembered a single anniversary, and he's never once suggested we celebrate a holiday. But the second I message him first, he lights up, all "baby" this and "baby" that, fussing over me, coaxing me to sleep. Sometimes I'd get this strange feeling that there were two different Noahs. His explanation was that he was just bad with words face-to-face, and that texting or voice notes felt like less pressure. I kept telling myself that being together meant meeting each other halfway. He was quiet and reserved, so I'd be the one to reach out. He forgot anniversaries, so I booked the restaurant and reminded him to keep the night free. He had no time to schedule our engagement shoot, so I handled the whole thing with the studio myself. He was too busy with work to help us move, so I packed everything alone, booked the movers, and got it all done. When I was so worn out I was about to break, I'd send him a voice note, and he'd say, "I'm so sorry, baby. The lab was insane today. I couldn't be there for you, and it kills me to watch you run yourself into the ground." Hearing how guilty he sounded, all my hurt just melted away. And that's how I carried three years of this relationship on my own, running on the flawless tenderness he only ever gave me online. Until today, when I found a program on his laptop called Boyfriend Assistant. It analyzed every message I sent and generated the perfect reply, the perfect response, every single time. Cold snap? It sent: Bundle up, baby. Time of the month? It pinged an API and auto-ordered hot chocolate to my door. All those late nights he spent "working," the gentle voice notes that lulled me to sleep, every one of them was synthesized in Noah's voice. For three years, the person who'd been there for me, day and night, was never Noah at all. For three years, I'd been performing a one-woman show.