AtengKadiwa
2 Published Stories
AtengKadiwa's Books and Stories
The Price of His Perfect Life
Short stories I was a top hand model, my hands insured for seven figures. They bought me a life in a sleek Central Park apartment and a diamond ring from my fiancé, Chase Strong.
At my engagement party, he insisted I get a manicure from his high school friend, Karis. She soaked my hands in what she called a "new cuticle softener." It was acid.
A week later, I found out I was pregnant. I thought a baby would fix the peeling skin and raw blisters, that it would fix us.
But when I told Chase, his face was a mask of cold fury. He said a baby didn't fit his plan.
He drove me to a desolate mountain, pushed me out of the car, and told me he was leaving me there to think about how easily he could take everything away.
The man I was going to marry, the father of my unborn child, left me to die in the freezing darkness.
He didn't just ruin my hands and my career; he wanted to break my spirit.
But as the sun rose, something inside me shifted from fear to ice-cold rage. I would not let his child be another chain to bind me to my jailer.
When he returned, expecting to find me broken, I looked him in the eye and told him, "I'm getting rid of the baby."
Then I turned and started walking down the mountain, toward a life he could never touch. You might like
My Fiancé Married Me To My Rival
rabbit At my best friend's birthday party, I drank tainted wine and passed out.
When I woke up, I heard the doctor say it could cause severe nerve damage.
I teased my fiancé Cayden Hewitt, asking who I was and where I was.
He hesitated, staring at me, then called my rival Liam Hewitt.
"You're Julia. He's your fiancé. You're getting married soon."
I froze, thinking he was joking too.
My best friend, Vivian Green, slipped her arm through Cayden's, looking every bit like a couple in love.
Eventually, I was about to marry Liam.
But Cayden, with eyes red from emotion, stood in front of the car to stop it, pleading, "Julia, don't marry him. I've realized I can't let you go." The Alpha Pact: Love Enslaved, Love Unleashed
Rabbit For my entire life, I believed my Alpha, Kaelen, was my fated mate. A sacred gift from the Moon Goddess.
But on the eve of my eighteenth birthday, he presented another she-wolf, Seraphina, as his chosen Luna, using a borrowed pup in a cruel plot to crush my spirit.
When Rogues attacked our pack, a silver chandelier fell towards us. Kaelen lunged past me without a glance, shielding Seraphina with his own body while I was left to be crushed.
He never even looked back.
Later, after falsely accusing me of hurting her, he dragged my injured body to an ice-cold hydrotherapy pool and shoved me under the water.
As I struggled to breathe, he loomed over me, his voice a roar of command.
"If you ever touch her again, I will strip you of your name and make you Rogue."
Watching the man I loved try to kill me, the last of my hope finally turned to ash.
That night, I accepted an offer to join the Silverwood Pack.
Then, I walked to the forge and tossed every memento he'd ever given me into the flames, watching the girl who loved him burn away forever. Jilted Pet Becomes The Mafia Queen
Gavin When I was eight, Dante Moretti pulled me from the fire that killed my family. For ten years, the powerful crime boss was my protector and my god.
Then, he announced his engagement to another woman to unite two criminal empires.
He brought her home and named her the future mistress of the Moretti family.
In front of everyone, his fiancée forced a cheap metal collar around my neck, calling me their pet.
Dante knew I was allergic. He just watched, his eyes cold, and ordered me to take it.
That night, I listened through the walls as he took her to his bed.
I finally understood the promise he’d made me as a child was a lie. I wasn't his family. I was his property.
After a decade of devotion, my love for him finally turned to ash.
So on his birthday, the day he celebrated his new future, I walked out of his gilded cage for good.
A private jet was waiting to take me to my real father—his greatest enemy. Reborn: A Wife's Vengeance
Gavin The sterile hospital smell was the last thing I remembered. I was Ava, a successful architect, and I was dying. Through a morphine haze, I heard my husband, Liam, and his identical twin brother, Ethan. "Is she gone yet?" Ethan asked coldly. "Almost," Liam replied, his voice devoid of love.
Then Chloe' s voice, sharp and satisfied: "She heard us talking about the miscarriage." My heart seized. My baby. The baby they called a tragic accident. "It was for the best," Liam said. "She was never meant to be the mother of my child. You are, Chloe." A wave of nausea and horror washed over me.
"And the hysterectomy?" Ethan asked. "Are you sure it' s done?" Dr. Anderson confirmed it, Liam said. Complications. I' d never carry a child again. My world dissolved. They' d not only betrayed me but orchestrated the death of my child and the end of my womanhood. All for Chloe.
Then, nothing. Until I opened my eyes again. I was in my wedding gown, in my wedding bed. Liam walked out of the bathroom, that devastating smile now making my stomach turn. He was an actor, and I had been his most captive audience. I remembered the whispers from my deathbed: the cold, calculated cruelty. This beautiful monster had shared me with his brother.
I had died and come back, armed with the terrible truth. The man who had pledged his life to me had been orchestrating my destruction. My baby, my womanhood, my very life-all sacrificed for a twisted game. How could this be real? Why was I back?
A new resolve settled in my soul. I wouldn't just survive this wedding night; I would be the architect of their destruction. The Price Of A Mafia Queen
Gavin My marriage to Marco Ricci was a contract signed in blood, a promise to unite the two most powerful families on the East Coast. He was my future, the king chosen to rule beside me. Everyone said our union was destiny.
But he came home smelling of cheap perfume and another woman's lies. It was the scent of Angelia, the fragile orphan his family had taken in, the girl he swore he protected like a sister.
I followed him to a private club. From the shadows, I watched him pull her into his arms and give her a hungry, desperate kiss—a kiss he had never given me. In that instant, my entire future shattered.
I finally understood the whispers from his men that I was just a political prize, while Angelia was their true queen. He wanted my empire, but his heart belonged to her.
I would not be a consolation prize. I would not be second to anyone.
I walked straight into my father's study, my voice as cold as ice. "I'm calling off the wedding."
When he protested, I delivered the final blow. "I will uphold our family's need for an alliance. I will marry Don Dante Valentino."
My father's whiskey glass shattered on the floor. Dante Valentino was our greatest rival. Rebirth: A Second Chance
Gavin The sterile beep of the heart monitor was the last sound Olivia heard as her 20-year-old son, Michael, stood by her hospital bed, relaying her husband Daniel' s chilling message: it was time to let her go.
Then, with a barely perceptible tremor, Michael' s hand reached for the life support plug, while Daniel and his mistress, Sophia, were already celebrating her impending demise.
She watched, a disembodied consciousness, as Daniel entered her hospital room, not with grief, but with a flicker of relief, before he called Sophia, his voice warm and affectionate, planning to "celebrate" Olivia' s death.
The betrayal was an icy vise around what remained of her spectral heart; her husband and son had conspired to murder her, turning her entire life into a hollow lie, and an intense, primal rage left her silently screaming for another chance, for justice.
Suddenly, Olivia' s eyes snapped open to the sunlight of her own apartment, 25 years younger, her mother' s cheerful voice on the phone reminding her of Daniel and their wedding, now just one month away. Fake Amnesia, Real Betrayal
Gavin The call came at 7:05 PM on our tenth wedding anniversary.
My husband, David, was in an accident.
At the hospital, he was awake, but a young woman, his assistant Chloe, was holding his hand, acting like his wife.
When I walked in, he looked at me, a blank stranger' s stare, then asked, "Who are you?"
He laughed when I said I was his wife, then demanded security remove me, while Chloe, smiling, pretended to cry.
It wasn't just memory loss; it was a cruel, targeted erasure.
I tried proof, the marriage certificate, but he pushed it away as "just a piece of paper."
Then Chloe waltzed in with his favorite soup, and he defended her when I confronted her.
"She' s the only one who' s been here for me!" he screamed.
He snarled that I was "exhausted, haggard," compared to Chloe, who was "kind and gentle."
My wedding ring, a symbol of our forever, flew from my hand as he slapped it away, clinking under the bed.
"Don' t come back," he said, turning his back on me to comfort Chloe.
Later, I learned why: he had been having an affair with Chloe, his mother's 65th birthday ruined by his absence and her answering his phone.
My world shattered when Mark Johnson, David's estranged best friend, told me what David said: "The fake amnesia was a stroke of genius, right? A clean break."
My husband had faked a brain injury to throw me away.
A car hit me, sending me to the hospital, and I knew what I had to do.
When Mark came in, I looked at him, my face blank, then asked, "Are you… my husband?" Auctioned Daughter, Shattered Wife
Gavin My husband, the tech billionaire I adored, sent his men to take me to an undisclosed location.
When we arrived, I found our sixteen-year-old daughter, Julianne, on a stage, being auctioned off like a piece of art to a crowd of sick elites.
My husband, Everett, used this to blackmail me into resigning from my career. But after Julianne's subsequent suicide attempt, he let his mistress—an unqualified researcher—perform the surgery, leaving our daughter in a permanent vegetative state.
He publicly humiliated me, claiming our marriage was a lie and that I was a stalker.
He forced me to kneel and beg for my daughter's life, only to let his mistress shatter my surgeon's hand with a trophy.
After they pulled the plug on Julianne, they tricked my mother and me into drinking her ashes.
They left my mother for dead at the bottom of a flight of stairs. As I knelt over her broken body, my grief finally turned into a cold, hard resolve.
When Everett texted, demanding my presence at his celebration party, I replied with two words.
"I'll be there." Her Choice, His Downfall
Gavin The sterile scent of antiseptic clung to me like a shroud as the doctor' s words cut through the haze: "The test is positive, Ms. Miller. You're pregnant."
But his next revelation, stark and clear, truly shattered my world: "There's a mass, Sarah. It's a rare form of tumor, quite aggressive. We need to start treatment immediately, but… the treatment is not compatible with the pregnancy."
It was the same impossible choice I' d faced before, a replay of a life I' d already lived and tragically lost. A chilling memory surfaced of my estranged boyfriend, David Chen, spitting venom at me in a cold penthouse: "Keep her alive just long enough to deliver the baby. I want her to watch everything she loves wither and die."
He'd trapped me then, financially and emotionally, under the guise of a deadly illness only my wealth could cure, all while secretly engaged to another woman, Chloe. His true cruelty was laid bare in a whispered confession I overheard: "She's just a walking bank account. And soon, when that tumor of hers gets bad enough, the whole bank will be ours."
The sheer audacity, the betrayal, the knowledge that they planned to destroy my brother, Tom, for my life insurance, burned through me. They were monsters, and I had been a fool, blind to their horrifying scheme.
But this time, I wasn't the naive artist. This time, I had a choice, my choice. I looked the doctor straight in the eye, my voice steady, devoid of the hesitation that had crippled me before. "I want an abortion." It wasn't a surrender; it was a declaration of war.