Big Kahuna
9 Published Stories
Big Kahuna's Books and Stories
Too Late, Mr. Winters: I'm No Victim
Modern I lived in Ellery Winters’ penthouse for two years, playing the role of the quiet, unremarkable girl who fixed his financial messes in the dark. I thought we had a partnership, until I walked in to find my belongings packed in a black garbage bag near the door.
Ellery stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, a silhouette of ice, refusing to even look at me. On the marble table sat a "Termination of Relations" agreement and a one-million-dollar check.
"Sign it," he said, his voice devoid of any warmth. He was discarding me to marry my sister, Claudine, as part of a strategic merger with the Fitzgeralds—the very family that had abandoned me to the foster system years ago. My mother, Victoria, didn't want a daughter; she wanted a tool to secure the Winters’ fortune.
Silas, his assistant, looked at me with pity, expecting the "trailer park girl" to break down and beg for the hush money. They all thought I was a nobody, a line item to be deleted from the balance sheet of their lives so they could move on to their high-society wedding.
I felt a cold, sharp rage bubbling up, the kind that only someone who has lived in the shadows can truly feel. I didn't beg, and I didn't scream. I just looked at the man I had protected for two years and realized he had no idea who I actually was.
Why did they think I was helpless? Why did Ellery believe he could buy my silence when I knew every dirty secret buried in his Cayman accounts?
I ripped the million-dollar check into confetti and dropped it in the trash. As I stepped back into the decaying Fitzgerald mansion as an "Honorary Ward," I wasn't coming home for a reunion—I was coming to dismantle both of their empires from the inside. Jilted Bride, Unexpected Proposal
Romance Tonight was supposed to be the happiest night of my life, my engagement party to Alex Turner at the grand St. Regis ballroom.
He was handsome, the heir to a fortune, and I had loved him for three years.
As he reached for the ring, a woman stumbled in, disheveled and crying.
"Alex!" she wailed, claiming she' d been drugged.
It was Chloe Hayes, his childhood friend, the one he always called "just like a sister."
Without a moment' s hesitation, Alex abandoned me on stage, scooping Chloe into his arms and disappearing into a private lounge.
The crowd' s whispers and snickers burned my ears.
"Did you see that? He just left her."
"On their engagement night, too. How humiliating."
My joy curdled into a cold, hard knot.
I wanted the floor to swallow me whole.
How could he do this to me, after everything?
Why was I always the one left behind, the one humiliated?
Just as shame threatened to consume me, another figure stepped into the spotlight.
It was Daniel Sterling, Alex' s business rival.
He picked up the abandoned engagement ring, ascended the stage, and knelt before me.
"He can' t even be bothered to give you the ring himself," he said, his eyes surprisingly kind.
Then, he held up the ring and asked, "Jane Lim, he doesn' t deserve you. Will you marry me?"
My mind went blank.
He then pulled out a stunning emerald bracelet.
"This is a Sterling family heirloom," he declared. "It belongs to the matriarch of our family. I want you to have it."
In that moment, I saw a lifeline, a chance to reclaim my dignity.
Looking at Daniel, a man I barely knew, offering more respect than Alex ever had, I took a deep breath.
"Yes," I said, my voice shaking but clear. "I will." Rising From Ashes: The Matriarch's Spectacular Comeback
Romance I woke up in a burning warehouse, twelve years after my supposed death. My body had been reset to its physical prime, the deep burn scar on my wrist completely gone.
Through the smoke, my eldest son, Kennard, rushed blindly into the flames. He was screaming the name of the very woman who had orchestrated this trap—Brittnie.
When I tackled him out of the way of a falling steel beam, he didn't recognize my youthful face. Instead, he pinned me to the concrete and nearly crushed my windpipe.
"How much did she pay you to carve up your face to look like a dead woman?"
He hissed the words at me, treating me like a sick corporate spy. For a decade, a bizarre narrative "script" had brainwashed my son, forcing him into pathetic devotion to Brittnie. She had drained his wealth, turned my daughter against him, and hollowed out our family empire.
Whenever Kennard tried to resist her, the mind control punished him with agonizing migraines, driving him to smash his own hands against the wall just to cope with the pain.
Hearing him quietly sobbing outside my locked door, my heart shattered. How could this invisible force torture my brilliant son and turn my family into puppets for a D-list actress?
I dragged him to the hospital for a DNA test.
When the results confirmed my maternity at 99.999%, the cold billionaire collapsed to the floor, weeping in my arms like a lost child.
I wiped his tears and smiled ruthlessly. It was time to take back my empire and burn Brittnie's life to the ground. Pampered By The Ruthless Chicago Don
Mafia I was sold to Damien Russo, the ruthless Don of Chicago, as collateral in a shipping route transaction. I was expected to be a silent, obedient bride in a cold, loveless marriage.
But the moment I stepped into the Russo estate, I realized my new family wanted to completely destroy me.
My mother-in-law, Eleonora, and her arrogant relatives immediately targeted me. They set traps in the solarium, mocked my late mother's heritage, and tried to force me into humiliating submission using their strict mafia traditions. They wanted to break my spirit so Damien would replace me with the bride they actually wanted—a purebred mafia princess. They expected me to cower in fear, isolated and helpless, while the whole family watched my public humiliation and waited for my downfall.
Did they really think I was just a fragile girl who would cry and run away? They completely underestimated the survival instincts of a woman who grew up in this bloody world. I learned long ago that tears are worthless.
"My rules are simple. Vendetta is a two-way street."
Instead of breaking, I smiled. I weaponized their own legendary ancestors and the sacred promise of an unborn heir to trap the Matriarch in her own rules, forcing her into a suffocating silence. If they wanted a war for the throne, I would gladly show them exactly why I am the undisputed Mafia Queen. Reborn: The Mafia Captive Wife's Revenge
Mafia Eleven years ago, Damien Falcone pulled me from the freezing waters, and I thought I was marrying my savior.
Instead, he orchestrated my absolute ruin by forging evidence to frame me for selling a vital mafia bootlegging route to the FBI.
Under the guise of saving me from the family's brutal death sentence, he stripped away my future as his Mafia Queen. He dragged me to New York and locked me in a gilded penthouse cage. For eleven years, I rotted away as his secret prisoner until my failing body finally gave out.
As I collapsed in the freezing New York snow, he caught me, his hands trembling as he held my dying body against his chest.
"No, Fia, stay with me. I did it to keep you alive. I had to—"
I didn't want to hear his monstrous lies anymore. I had given him all my love, and he repaid me with a tomb. Loving him was the only unforgivable sin I ever committed.
"I pray... we never meet again."
When the howling wind faded, I opened my eyes to the heavy stench of rust and lake water. I wasn't dead.
I was back in the cramped cabin of a cargo freighter, exactly sixteen years old again. It was the very night my jealous cousin sent an assassin to carve up my face and void my marriage to the Falcone family.
This time, I quietly gripped the heavy oak slat under my mattress. I Found My True Love after Dumping the Guy I Loved for Years
Modern "Dad, I can break up with Lucas and marry into the most powerful mafia family, the Vittorine family, and wed that brutal heir."
Eve's robe hung loosely, and there were kiss marks all over her neck.
"But I have one condition. If you agree to it, I'll marry him."
Eve's father, Robert Costa, asked her excitedly on the other end of the phone, but Eve abruptly hung up.
Lucas got out of the bathroom, wiping droplets from his wet hair. Then he pulled Eve into his arms, and they fell into bed together.
Eve buried her face in his chest, but her eyes were cold.
She was the daughter of the Costa family and had been secretly in love with Lucas Smith, a district leader in the family, for five years.
Three days ago, she was kidnapped. The kidnappers targeted a batch of goods belonging to Lucas. They used Eve as leverage to threaten Lucas. Her phone died after repeatedly trying to call him all night, but Lucas never answered.
Eve was pushed off a cliff and was badly injured. She was then saved by the head of her family, so she narrowly escaped death.
Lucas was flirting with her father's illegitimate daughter, Alina.
Eve utterly realized Lucas's true face and stopped loving him. Lucas proposed to her today, and Eve had prepared a big gift for him.
She would give him freedom. The Fortune He Never Knew
Billionaires Our Maui anniversary trip was set.
For years, I' d quietly funded my husband Mark' s tech startup, even his mother' s expensive cancer treatment.
He thought I was just "Sarah Miller," unassuming, never guessing my father owned vast vineyards and luxury resorts.
Then, at the airport, he canceled our trip.
An 'investor crisis,' he claimed.
My gut screamed suspicion.
I checked Instagram: my au pair' s daughter, Tiffany, wearing my designer dress, passionately kissing Mark in my living room, captioned 'My man knows how to treat his queen!'
I drove home to find a raging party.
Mark was kissing Tiffany.
When confronted, he called me a 'crazy ex.'
Tiffany shrieked they' d been 'soulmates for two years.'
Her friends mocked, assaulted me, tearing my dress.
My au pair (also in my stolen clothes) sneered, calling me 'the help.'
They then launched a brutal online campaign, leaking my private photos, twisted to accuse me of infidelity, securing donations.
Mark demanded I sign divorce papers, abandoning everything.
How could the man whose entire world I secretly built betray me so completely?
How could they weaponize my private moments, twisting every truth?
The public shaming, the injustice, felt suffocating.
But I held a secret they never knew.
So, I signed those papers, conceding everything.
They believed I was broken, defeated.
But they were wrong.
My father had always called my true identity a 'trump card.'
It was finally time to play it. Her Voice, Their Sacrifice
Romance I lived a quiet life on the Texas frontier, raised by my kind adoptive parents, Jed and Elara.
My childhood sweetheart, Ethan, left for the city with a promise: he' d become a lawyer, make a fortune, and come back for me.
He even sealed it with a small, simple ring.
I wore it close to my heart, dreaming of our future.
Then came the letter.
Not from Ethan, but a cold, typewritten announcement of his engagement to Miss Seraphina Thorne, formally dismissing me as a simple frontier girl.
That same day, I found Jed and Elara in the smokehouse.
Not whole.
Brutally, impossibly changed.
I stood there, knife in hand, blood on my dress, when the first neighbor screamed.
The sheriff arrested me for their murder.
My silence earned me the town' s fury; they called me a monster, just as a spiritualist had once warned.
Ethan returned, with Seraphina, who watched my public humiliation with a faint, cruel smile.
They "found" Ethan' s old engagement letter on me, making it look like a crime of passion.
But the real horror came later, in my jail cell.
Someone, in the dark, had cut out my tongue.
I couldn't speak, couldn't explain the unexplainable.
How could I have murdered the only family I knew, the people who sacrificed everything to protect my deepest secret?
Their love, their desperate final act, was twisted into my damnation.
Who truly took my voice?
And how could I, a survivor, explain a sacrifice so profound it defied sanity?
But when Ethan, seeing my injuries, finally faced me, I knew I had to break my agonizing silence, even without a voice.
With a trembling hand, charcoal on wood, I began to write.
This, then, is the truth of Anya Brightwater: a tale not of murder, but of relentless love, ancient blood debts, an American frontier built on lies, and a secret that would shatter everything they thought they knew. Her Truth, Unsung
Romance I married Liam Thorne, the love of my life, wearing a five-dollar thrift store dress. We ate pizza on museum steps, dreaming of a future where our shared music would change the world, just "us against everyone."
I sacrificed everything for him: giving up my band's breakthrough gig, draining our meager savings for his mother's emergency surgery, and enduring ugly rumors and public scorn, all to pave the way for Liam's glittering career. My dreams faded, but his soared.
As Liam transformed into a global rock superstar, my own life became a carefully constructed demolition. I was manipulated into a humiliating, sexualized music video, publicly branded a "desperate sellout," and then mercilessly blacklisted by the same industry that elevated him. When I was sick and broken, consumed by an autoimmune illness, the man I loved abandoned me, choosing manufactured fame and a new "power couple" over everything we'd built.
I died alone, my life dismissed by the media as a tragic "trainwreck," just a footnote in his triumphant story. How could Liam Thorne, the boy who once held my hand and vowed "forever," so casually dismiss me as "unstable" while building his empire on my shattered dreams? Why was my truth buried with me, unheard, while his carefully crafted narrative reigned supreme?
But now, my private journals—the raw, unfiltered record of every painful sacrifice, every calculated betrayal—have fallen into the hands of a fearless podcaster. The world is about to hear my voice, finally ready to uncover the shocking truth hidden beneath Liam Thorne's polished facade. You might like
The Unwanted Wife Is A Zillionaire
Reilly Mcardle For seven years, I played the perfect, hidden wife to billionaire August Chambers while working quietly as an ER nurse.
Three days before our marriage contract expired, he stormed into my emergency room carrying a bleeding woman. It was Allena, his cousin's fiancée.
She had suffered a ruptured corpus luteum from their violent, aggressive sex. Instead of hiding his affair, August ordered me to clear the floor and threw a massive check at my face to buy my silence. Later, his friends trapped me in a VIP club. When a waiter tripped, August violently shoved me aside just to protect Allena from a spilled cup of coffee. I crashed into a glass table, a sharp edge slicing deep into my arm.
"Apologize to her, and I'll have my driver take you to the hospital."
As my blood soaked into the white rug, he stood over me, demanding I get on my knees for his mistress. He didn't know I had faked a miscarriage five years ago to secretly raise our daughter far away from his cruelty. He also didn't know the money he flaunted was pocket change compared to my hidden AI tech empire.
I calmly tied a tourniquet around my bleeding arm with my teeth and wiped my blood directly over his heart onto his custom suit.
"I'm done with you."
The submissive nurse was dead, and it was time to let him burn in the ruins of his own lies. Flash Marriage to the Tycoon, I'm Spoiled Rotten
Hollow Echo Cast out by an "elite" family and mocked by high society, Elena shocked everyone by marrying the most powerful man in town.
They assumed it was a temporary arrangement-after all, he had said, "The agreement is for two years. After that, we're done."
Yet after the wedding, he refused to let her go. "Elena, you can't leave me."
As he doted on her, rumors shattered one by one. A renowned painter, top hacker, and tech mastermind-her true identities stunned the world.
When a luxury empire announced their lost heiress, all eyes turned to her. "Why did she look exactly like Elena?" Abandoned Ex-Wife: Now Untouchable
Tao Yaoyao My five-year-old daughter was dying in the ICU, her heartbeat replaced by the continuous, electronic scream of a flatline. I gripped her cold hand, my throat sealed shut by a terror so absolute I couldn't even cry out.
I dialed my husband Grayson's private number, the one reserved only for me and his assistants. He declined the call instantly. A second later, a text buzzed against my palm:
"In a meeting. Do not disturb. Stop calling."
Five miles away, Grayson was at a luxury gala, adjusting his silk tie and laughing with Belle Escobar. He told her I was just being "dramatic" and using our daughter's "fever" as an excuse to avoid the event. He had no idea Effie's heart had already stopped.
When I finally reached our penthouse, soaked from the rain and carrying Effie's small socks in a plastic bag, Grayson didn't even look at me. He snapped at me for ruining the hardwood floors and asked if I'd left Effie with the nanny just to "feel sorry for myself."
Three days later, while I buried our daughter in a small, lonely ceremony, Grayson was at the Hamptons. Belle posted a photo of him golfing with the caption: "A mental health day with the boys." He didn't even attend the funeral, but he returned home demanding I clear out Effie's room to make a study for Belle's son.
The injustice burned through me until there was nothing left. I swallowed a handful of sleeping pills, desperate to join my daughter. But instead of the darkness, I woke up to blinding lights and the scent of Grayson's expensive cologne.
I was standing in a ballroom, wearing a blue silk dress I had already burned. Above me, a banner read: "Happy 5th Birthday Kaiden & Effie."
I was back, exactly one year before the tragedy. This time, I wasn't going to be the grieving wife. I was going to be their worst nightmare. Married To My Ex-Fiancé's Silent Uncle
Ming Yue Twenty minutes before the "Wedding of the Century" at The Plaza, I stood outside the Presidential Suite in a fifty-thousand-dollar Vera Wang gown. I was the girl from a West Virginia trailer park about to marry Hugh Maxwell, the golden heir to a billion-dollar defense empire.
I pushed the door open only to find Hugh pinned against the bed with my own stepsister, Floy. She was wearing my bridal diamond necklace, and the sounds of their laughter scraped against my eardrums like sandpaper.
I didn't scream; I listened as Hugh grunted that once the wedding was over and the trust fund unlocked, he’d dump "that hillbilly trash" on a bus back to the mountains. They weren't just cheating; they were planning to steal my family’s land deeds and leave me with nothing. When I set off the sprinklers and exposed their naked bodies to the paparazzi, the Maxwell family didn't apologize. They called me a "greedy peasant" and threatened to ruin my life unless I signed a new deal to save their crashing stock.
I realized then that I was never a bride to them. I was a transaction, a rounding error in a ledger to be used and discarded. They thought my poverty made me weak and my silence made me a victim.
"If we don't have a marriage certificate by midnight, the bank freezes thirty percent of our liquidity," their lawyer warned.
So, I gave them exactly what they wanted. I used a loophole in their hundred-year-old family covenant and married the only other direct heir available. I didn't marry Hugh. I walked into the ICU and married his uncle, Fleet Maxwell—the legendary war hero who had been in a vegetative state for months.
Now, I am the matriarch of the Maxwell dynasty. I’ve suspended Hugh’s executive powers, exiled my mother-in-law to the Swiss Alps, and taken control of the family vault. They think I’m just a gold-digger waiting for a "corpse" to die so I can collect a fifty-million-dollar widow's payout.
But last night, as I lay beside my comatose husband, the man they called a vegetable gripped my hand back. Phoenix Of Ruin: My Second Life Comes With A Better Man
Maple Breeze Ashley gave Nicolas ten years of love and five years of loyalty as his perfect housewife, only to be repaid with betrayal, humiliation, and death at the hands of him and his mistress.
After being reborn, she vowed to make them pay.
She tore apart the mistress, kicked her useless husband aside, and returned as the heiress of a top-tier family.
Surrounded by billions, luxury, and a parade of elite bachelors, Ashley became the woman everyone wanted-including a cold, powerful tycoon.
When Nicolas came begging for forgiveness, she smiled coldly. "Fuck off! My man is worth a hundred of you." No Longer Mrs. Cooley: The Architect's Return
Xiao Xiaosu I went to the City Clerk's office for a routine copy of my marriage license to finalize a trust fund audit. I expected a simple piece of paper, but the clerk's pitying look told me my entire life was a lie.
"The license was never finalized, Ms. Oliver. In the eyes of the state, you are single."
The three-hundred-guest wedding at the Plaza and the Vogue features meant nothing. My husband, Gray Cooley, had intentionally filed the documents with a "procedural defect" so he could discard me without a legal divorce. Moments later, an iCloud invite titled "Our Little Secret" popped up on my screen. It was a photo of my best friend, Brylee, holding a positive pregnancy test at our Hamptons estate.
Gray's text to her was the final blow:
"Happy anniversary, babe. This baby is the best gift. Once the trust unlocks today, we're done with the charade."
I soon discovered they were even stealing my career, reassigning my architectural masterpiece to Brylee while preparing my eviction notice. Gray's mother called me a "barren mule" in a leaked recording, mocking the infertility I suffered after saving Gray's life in a construction accident. I wasn't a wife; I was a three-year placeholder used to secure his inheritance.
How could the man I bled for treat me like a disposable prop? How could my best friend carry his child while pretending to comfort me through my darkest moments? The betrayal burned until it turned into a cold, hard stone of fury.
I didn't cry. Instead, I walked into the penthouse of the Barretts, the Cooleys' most powerful rivals. I signed a marriage contract with Kane Barrett, the man the tabloids called the "Beast of Wall Street."
"I want a wedding," I told his father, my voice steady and lethal. "Bigger than the one I had with Gray."
If they wanted me gone, they would have to watch me become the woman who owns their world. Phoenix Rising: The Scarred Heiress's Revenge
Xiao Hong Mao I lived as the "scarred ghost" of the Stephens penthouse, a wife kept in the shadows because my facial burns offended my billionaire husband's aesthetic. For years, I endured Kason's coldness and my family's abuse, a submissive puppet who believed she had nowhere else to go.
The end came with a blue folder tossed onto my silk sheets. Kason's mistress was back, and he wanted me out by sunset, offering a five-million-dollar "silence fee" to go hide my face in the countryside.
The betrayal cut deep when I discovered my father had already traded my divorce for a corporate bailout. My step-sister mocked my "trashy" appearance at a high-end boutique, while the sales staff treated me like a common thief. At home, my father threatened to cut off my mother's life-saving medicine unless I crawled back to Kason to beg for a better deal.
I was the girl who took the blame for a fire she didn't start, the wife who worshipped a man who never looked her in the eye, and the daughter used as a human bargaining chip. I was supposed to be broken, penniless, and desperate.
But the woman who stood up wasn't the weak Elease Finch anymore; she was Phoenix, a tactical predator with a $500 million secret. I signed the divorce papers without a single tear, walked past my stunned husband, and wiped the Finch family's bank accounts clean with a few taps on my phone.
"Your money is dirty," I told Kason with a cold smile. "I prefer clean hands."
The cage is open, the hunt has begun, and I'm starting with the people who thought a scar made me weak. The Humble Ex-wife Is Now A Brilliant Tycoon
Flory Corkery For three quiet, patient years, Christina kept house, only to be coldly discarded by the man she once trusted.
Instead, he paraded a new lover, making her the punchline of every town joke.
Liberated, she honed her long-ignored gifts, astonishing the town with triumph after gleaming triumph.
Upon discovering she'd been a treasure all along, her ex-husband's regret drove him to pursue her. "Honey, let's get back together!"
With a cold smirk, Christina spat, "Fuck off."
A silken-suited mogul slipped an arm around her waist. "She's married to me now. Guards, get him the hell out of here!" Beneath His Ugly Wife's Mask: Her Revenge Was Her Brilliance
Lukas Difabio Elliana, the unfavored "ugly duckling" of her family, was humiliated by her stepsister, Paige, who everyone admired. Paige, engaged to the CEO Cole, was the perfect woman-until Cole married Elliana on the day of the wedding. Shocked, everyone wondered why he chose the "ugly" woman.
As they waited for her to be cast aside, Elliana stunned everyone by revealing her true identity: a miracle healer, financial mogul, appraisal prodigy, and AI genius.
When her mistreatment became known, Cole revealed Elliana's stunning, makeup-free photo, sending shockwaves through the media. "My wife doesn't need anyone's approval." Wild Heiress, Tamed Billionaire
Ruby Stone When I called my husband while trapped in a kidnapper's warehouse, he laughed. "Stop faking," he said, "my delicate mistress needs her sleep." He hung up. I signed the divorce papers drenched in my own blood, giving up everything just to escape the monster I married.
His mother threw a broken umbrella at me in the rain. I had nothing-no money, no identity, no hope.
But the moment I turned away, eight black Escalades encircled the street. A man in a tailored suit stepped out of a Rolls-Royce, shielding me with an umbrella. In his hand was a DNA test-and twenty-three years of relentless search.
"Your last name isn't Smith," he said, wiping blood from my wrist with his handkerchief. "It's Wilder. The Wilder family. And the man who left you to die?" He smiled, icy. "He owes us nine billion dollars."