Bu Chuang
14 Published Stories
Bu Chuang's Books and Stories
Tipping The Billionaire: His Runaway Lover
Modern Alida caught her boyfriend in bed with another woman, only to discover a frat house contract on his nightstand.
Her love and submission had been nothing but a fifty-thousand-dollar bet.
She extorted the check from him to pay for her dying father's surgery, then went to a club to drink away the brutal betrayal.
But her malicious stepsister secretly drugged her drink, planning to sell her to an underground thug to pay off a debt.
Burning from the chemical mix and running on pure terror, Alida escaped into a VIP hallway and crashed straight into a wall of solid muscle.
Desperate and out of her mind, she slapped the fifty-thousand-dollar check against the handsome stranger's chest.
"I'm buying you for the night."
She had no idea the man she just bought was Jax Vaughn, the ruthless, untouchable billionaire tyrant of Wall Street.
The next morning, Alida fled the penthouse, leaving behind a single crumpled hundred-dollar bill and a humiliating note.
"Service fee. Average skills. Like an uncivilized beast."
Seven years later, Alida returned to New York, holding the hand of her genius seven-year-old son who possessed the exact same pitch-black eyes as the billionaire.
She thought her past was buried forever, safely hidden away from the monster she had insulted.
But her father's mounting medical bills forced her to accept a high-paying executive interview at Vaughn Enterprises.
In the middle of the grand lobby, she stepped right into a familiar, terrifying chest.
Jax Vaughn's iron grip locked onto her wrist, recognizing her scent instantly, his eyes burning with seven years of obsessive, murderous rage.
"You." His Unwanted Wife, The Nation's Hero
Modern On our wedding anniversary, I came home to find my husband, Jace, celebrating with another woman in our living room.
She was wearing my mother's necklace-the only thing recovered from the explosion that killed my parents. Jace laughed, calling it a "cheap piece of junk," and tried to write me a check to buy a new one.
His family called my parents' ashes "garbage" and "unsanitary." When I confronted them, Jace sided with his mother, ordering me out of the penthouse I secretly owned. He let his friends publicly humiliate me, calling me a gold-digging leech with no background.
But that wasn't the worst of it. When a gunman stormed the restaurant we were in, Jace shoved me directly into the line of fire to shield his mistress.
The shotgun blast tore through my arm. As I lay bleeding on the marble floor, I stared at the man who had just used me as a human shield, his face pale with terror as he protected her.
In that instant, every ounce of love I ever had for him died. The pain in my arm was nothing compared to the cold, hollow void that consumed my heart.
He thought he was sacrificing a quiet, useless wife to secure his future. He had no idea he had just declared war on Captain Cilla Henson, West Point valedictorian and the most lethal operator of the Eagle Task Force. Love After the Betrayal
Romance The scent of lilies and hairspray usually meant joy, but for me, Abigail Turner, on what was supposed to be my wedding day, it was a suffocating prelude to disaster.
I stood in my bridal gown, gazing into an ornate mirror, my heart a storm.
Then Brandon Hayes, my fiancé, walked in, his eyes cold and distant.
He took his mother' s diamond necklace, an heirloom he' d given me, straight from my neck.
"I need that back," he said, his voice flat.
Before I could process the shock, my cousin, Seraphina Vance, appeared, clutching an overnight bag, her eyes red-rimmed.
Without a word, Brandon fastened the necklace around her neck.
My future, my life, was now hers.
"I can' t marry you, Abby," Brandon declared, his voice devoid of emotion.
"The wedding is canceled."
Then, he looked at Seraphina, his voice softening. "I' m marrying Seraphina. Today."
Just like that, my own cousin, who should have been my bridesmaid, was taking my place.
"Why?" I managed to choke out.
Brandon sighed, as if burdened by immense self-pity. "It' s for the good of the family. There' s a curse, Abby. A psychic told Seraphina' s mother. If I don' t marry her, something terrible will happen."
Seraphina sniffled, burying her face in his chest. "I' m so sorry, Abby. I didn' t want this."
He held her tight, then looked back at me, his eyes filled with a bizarre pity. "It' s just for a few years, Abby. Once the danger from the curse has passed, I' ll divorce her. Just wait for me. You' ll always be the one I love."
The absurdity of his words was staggering. He wanted me to wait.
My family rushed in, drawn by the commotion. My mother' s face paled at the scene: me in my dress, Brandon holding Seraphina, the necklace on the wrong neck.
Everyone expected tears, screams, pleas.
But a strange calm washed over me.
The heartbreak was a cold, hard stone in my chest, but my mind was clear.
I looked at Brandon, the man I thought I would spend my life with, and saw a stranger-a weak, arrogant man easily manipulated by my jealous cousin.
I turned to my father, my voice steady and firm. "Dad, do you remember the arrangement with the Beaumont family in Europe?"
His eyes widened in shock. "Abby, you don' t mean…"
"I do," I said. "Call them. Tell them I accept."
Silence fell over the room.
My life as Abigail "Abby" Turner ended in that moment.
The next day, I was on a plane to Europe.
Five years later, the world knows me as Ava Beaumont.
I am a respected art curator, happily married, and six months pregnant.
I am back in the United States for the first time in five years, for my husband William' s grandfather' s ninetieth birthday.
And I am a completely different woman. Left To Drown: The Alpha's Secret Healer Mate
Werewolf I spent three years secretly healing my paralyzed Alpha husband, finally helping him walk again.
But when a bridge snapped and plunged me and my fake sister into a toxic, silver-laced lake, he swam right past me.
He pulled her to safety and left me sinking in the burning water.
When the patrol finally dragged my half-dead body to the shore, he didn't even ask about my severe burns.
Instead, he looked at me with cool irritation and called me a petulant child.
"Selena is a weak Beta. She cannot handle the silver water. You are my mate, you should be stronger."
He even used his power to steal my career endorsements and gave them to her as compensation.
I looked at the man whose crippled legs I had massaged every night with my hidden power.
He didn't know I was the one who saved his life, and he clearly didn't care if I lost mine.
My three years of quiet devotion were nothing but a pathetic joke to him.
With a dead heart, I walked into his office and threw the official rejection scroll onto his desk.
"I, Serena, reject you, Hunter, as my mate."
Ignoring his sudden, agonizing panic as our bond shattered, I booked a one-way ticket to Europe.
This time, I was going to live for myself. Too Late For Regret, Mr. Morgan
Billionaires He married her as a contract, a duty, a cold transaction that lasted three years. She loved him so much that she sold herself to him—just to save her mother's life. He called her a “commodity,” said she was “tainted,” pinned her down in the back of his car while whispering another woman's name—Britt.
Then she finally gave up. She placed the divorce papers in front of him and said quietly, “Francisco, let's end this.”
For the first time, he panicked.
The man who never really looked at her began spending entire nights outside her hospital room, his hands trembling as he reached for her—then pulled back. He searched for her like a madman, begging with bloodshot eyes: “Evelyn… just give me one more chance…”
But she gently removed his hand, her voice softer than the wind: “Francisco, you lost my heart a long time ago.” Rescued And Claimed By The Underworld Boss
Mafia For six years, I guarded my fiancé's empty grave through blizzards and thunderstorms, surviving multiple suicide attempts because the guilt of his fatal car crash was eating me alive.
Until an anonymous message led me to a luxury penthouse, where I found him perfectly healthy, his arms wrapped around his former secretary's pregnant belly.
He had faked his own death to escape his mafia blood oath, keep the dirty money, and dump me.
When I confronted him, he violently shoved me into a stone fireplace, leaving me bleeding out on the marble floor.
"If anything happens to my new family, I will enact a Vendetta on you that will make the last six years look like a joke."
To protect his pristine facade, he threatened to cancel my dying adoptive mother's heart transplant unless I publicly confessed to being a delusional stalker.
I complied, but his mistress still snuck into the ICU, verbally abused my mother, and bribed the organ broker to back out.
My mother flatlined right in front of me.
I didn't understand how the man I had mourned for over two thousand days could watch me freeze in the snow for a box of dirt, only to coldly orchestrate the murder of my only family.
Holding my mother's ashes, I scheduled a video exposing his dirty money, and jumped off the cross-river bridge.
But I didn't die.
When I opened my eyes, the city's most lethal Mafia Don was standing by my bed, offering me a gun and a throne built from their ashes. The Unwanted Wife's Spectacular Revenge Comeback
Billionaires For three years, Alyson endured a suffocating marriage, while her biological family treated her like a stray dog compared to her sister, Chelsea.
She thought her husband Kenton would at least show her basic human decency.
But during a horrific car crash in a freezing storm, Kenton used his own body to shield Chelsea.
Meanwhile, a massive, out-of-control truck slammed into Alyson, throwing her broken body into a muddy ditch.
With shattered ribs and blood blurring her vision, she reached out a trembling hand to him for help.
Kenton just stared at her coldly through the rain.
"Stop faking it. It's just a scrape."
Without another glance, he wrapped his arm around the completely uninjured Chelsea and drove away, leaving Alyson to bleed out in the mud.
Hours later, after being saved from the brink of death by a mysterious stranger, her phone rang.
It was Kenton, furiously demanding she bring Chelsea's anxiety medication to the hospital.
He didn't even care to ask where she was, let alone realize she was severely injured.
Alyson couldn't understand how the man she loved could be so blindly cruel, or why her own parents constantly orchestrated her destruction.
The pathetic hope she had clung to for three years finally shattered into dust.
She dragged her battered body back to their penthouse, hiding a divorce settlement inside a stack of tedious charity documents.
When Kenton arrogantly signed his name without reading a single line, Alyson turned her back on the toxic family for good. Jilted Bride's Comeback: A Billionaire Queen
Modern My wedding to Ethan Reed was just weeks away.
After seven years, I was certain of our perfect future.
Then, Ethan claimed "selective amnesia" from a head injury, forgetting only me.
I tried to make him remember, until I overheard his video call.
"Total genius move," he boasted to friends.
His amnesia was a fake "hall pass" to pursue influencer Chloe Vance before our wedding.
Heartbroken, I feigned belief.
I endured his open flirting with Chloe and their taunting selfies.
He mocked my distress, prioritizing Chloe's fake emergency.
After an accident he caused, he abandoned me, injured, choosing to send Chloe to the hospital first.
He even tried to cut me off financially.
How could my fiancé be this cruel, calculating monster?
His betrayal poisoned every memory.
I felt like a fool for trusting such boundless cruelty.
His audacity left me reeling.
But I wouldn’t be his victim.
Instead of breaking, a cold plan formed.
I would shed my identity, become Olivia Carter.
I would disappear, leaving him, my past, and his engagement ring behind forever, claiming my freedom. The Fiancé Who Stole My Life
Modern My fiancé, Garrison, told me his family would love me. He said I was perfect. But at our engagement dinner, I overheard their real plan: to harvest my kidney for his sick sister, Corliss, and then discard me.
They framed me for pushing Corliss, causing her to have a "stress-induced episode." Garrison, believing their lies, had me thrown into a brutal "behavioral correction facility."
When he finally came for me, it wasn't to save me. It was to show off his new woman, my old rival, Katia. He humiliated me at a party, forcing me to wear the same dress as her, then accused me of sabotaging a chandelier that nearly killed them-a chandelier I had actually pushed him away from.
In the hospital, broken and bruised from a car crash Katia orchestrated, Garrison showed me faked evidence of my "crimes." He called me an empty void, a monster, and told me he was done with me.
He believed I was a jealous viper trying to destroy his family. He never saw that they were the ones who had systematically destroyed me.
Lying in that hospital bed, alone and in agony, I finally understood. The man I loved was a stranger, and his family were my tormentors.
As he walked out of my life for good, a cold peace settled over me. I was finally free. And I would never look back. His Unwanted Presence
Modern The smell of grilled meat and Olivia' s expensive perfume filled the backyard. We were hosting a perfect summer barbecue, or so it seemed.
I was the guy flipping burgers, the stay-at-home dad, while my wife, Olivia, laughed a bright, theatrical laugh, her hand resting on my cousin Liam' s arm-the one who got away in college.
My twins, Max and Chloe, looked up at Liam with wide, adoring eyes, asking him to do magic tricks and cut their food, preferring their "Uncle Liam" over me, their own father.
Olivia, too, openly favored Liam, remembering his steak preference while dismissing me with cold precision: "Ethan, the trash is overflowing. And did you forget to buy more ketchup?"
Each laugh, each dismissal, felt like a confirmation: I wasn' t their father or husband. I was just a convenience, my expiration date rapidly approaching.
A week later, while fixing the AC-because calling a professional was too expensive on my non-existent income-I fell off a ladder, breaking my arm.
Olivia' s first reaction? Not concern, but irritation. "Are you serious? Today? I' m about to close a seven-figure deal, Ethan. Is it really that bad?"
At the hospital, my kids barely noticed my bright white cast. Max' s only question was, "Is Uncle Liam coming over for dinner?"
That was it. The clarity cut through the pain. My wife, my children-they didn' t care. My pain was an annoyance; my presence, a service.
I looked at my angry wife, at the backs of my children' s heads. I was completely alone, a disposable tool.
That night, I looked at our wedding photo, two smiling strangers. I made a decision. Quiet, solid, absolute. I was done.
"I want a divorce," I told Olivia.
She closed her laptop, her face shifting from annoyance to clinical curiosity. "Don' t be ridiculous. We don' t have time for a divorce."
Then Max and Chloe walked in. "A divorce?" Max said, his eyes calculating. "Does that mean we can go live with Uncle Liam?"
Chloe brightened. "Yeah! Can Uncle Liam be our new dad? He' s more fun."
Their words, fueled by Olivia' s cultivation, hit harder than any fall. My children, my own flesh and blood, wanted my replacement.
Olivia, seeing my pain, delivered the final cut. "This is your own fault, Ethan. You let yourself go. The kids want a father they can look up to."
A cold rage burned through me. I pulled out the divorce papers, already signed, that I' d secretly prepared.
Olivia snatched and shredded them. "No one is divorcing me. You work for me, Ethan. You don' t get to quit."
The children watched, not scared, but as if it were a power play, knowing whose side they were on.
A chilling emptiness settled over me. I walked away, locked myself in the guest room, the click of the lock the first taste of freedom in a decade. Betrayal's Bitter Harvest
Modern The anesthesia was a thick fog, but the voices cut through it.
"Is she going to be okay?" That was Mark, my boyfriend, a rising musician.
"She' ll be fine. She gave you a kidney, Mark, she can handle a little post-op pain." That was Jessica, his new manager.
My blood ran cold. A kidney. I' d donated a kidney to save his life, worked three jobs, sold my art, used family connections, all for his dream.
Then the words that shattered my world.
"She was a good stepping stone, Mark. She got you where you needed to be. But you can' t have a sick, tired artist clinging to you when you' re about to become a star. You need… Jessica' s Lullaby."
Jessica's Lullaby. Our lullaby, a deeply personal melody from my childhood that I rewrote just for him. He had given her our song.
He didn't just take my kidney, he stole my art, my trust, everything. Even when he came back to the hospital, publicly proposing with cheap roses and a camera crew, it was a sham. Jessica staged an illness, and he abandoned me, rushed to her side, his devotion clear for all to see.
The man I loved had betrayed me, not just by stealing my art, but by commodifying my sacrifice, casting me aside as a mere stepping stone.
My heart was a hollowed-out cavity. But in that emptiness, a cold, hard rage began to burn.
He thought I was just a stepping stone. He was about to find out how wrong he was. I reached for my phone, scrolling for David, the head of a rival record label.
"David," I said, my voice raspy but firm. "It' s Sarah. I have a proposition for you." The Ex-Wife's Hollywood Comeback
Romance Five years.
That' s how long Sarah Miller believed she' d built a real family and found true love with billionaire Ethan Vanderbilt, the man she married through a mysterious deal that saved her life.
Their son, Noah, was turning five.
At his birthday party, Noah, coached by Ethan, blew out his candles and wished: "I want Daddy and Mommy to divorce so Aunt Olivia can be my new mom!" Ethan' s cold, approving smile was a dagger, shattering my heart.
He served divorce papers, calling me a mere "placeholder" for his recovery.
Publicly shamed, disowned by my parents, and rejected by my son for his new "Auntie Olivia," every sacrifice was dismissed.
My rare Larsen' s Syndrome, previously suppressed, ravaged my body, mirroring my shattered life.
Was every tender moment a calculated performance?
The man I nursed back to health, my child's father, utterly discarded me.
Abandoned and utterly broken, I wrestled with this profound betrayal.
With nothing left, I activated The Guide' s "exit clause," staging my dramatic public demise.
I plunged into a new reality as Ava Monroe, a famous Hollywood actress, determined to finally find genuine love.
But a ghost from my past, Ethan, followed, poised to conquer me again, threatening my new beginning. Trampled Legacy: The Hero's Daughter
Modern My daughter Emily, just seventeen, had a heart of gold.
She wanted to change the world, much like her father, James, a Medal of Honor recipient who died serving his country.
Emily was kind and brave, even standing up to Kevin Jennings, the mayor’s son, when he bullied a disabled classmate online.
Then, one cold night, Emily was gone.
The doctor’s words were flat: "Severe internal injuries. Hypothermia."
The police officer’s words were a punch: Kevin Jennings claimed Emily attacked him, and he’d acted in self-defense.
They found my sweet girl beaten and left in the freezing rain.
The powerful Jennings family immediately offered hush money, threatening to smear Emily’s name if I didn't comply.
The media, in their pocket, painted Emily as "aggressive," while online, I became a "gold digger" facing vicious attacks.
When I tried to protest, Kevin Jennings himself publicly *stepped* on James’s Medal of Honor, disgracing everything sacred to me.
The system closed ranks, branding Emily’s death "mutual combat."
But I knew the truth.
Emily’s journal revealed she was trying to reason with a monster.
This wasn't self-defense; it was murder, a brutal cover-up by the powerful.
How could they erase my daughter’s memory, twisting her kindness and trampling on her hero father’s legacy?
Broken and alone, I remembered a sacred promise James’s commander, Colonel McGregor, had made: "His family is our family."
Hundreds of miles away, he was my last, desperate hope.
I packed my bags, clutched James’s Medal, and drove out of that corrupt city.
The Jennings family *would* pay.
This fight wasn't over. It had only just begun. You might like
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. 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. 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!" Untouchable After Goodbye: She Had A Secret Empire
Mira Westfield "Let's get a divorce. She's pregnant and deserves a place in my life."
He once promised to protect Claire forever, yet when his first love returned, he cast her aside. For three years, Claire dimmed her brilliance, living quietly as the obedient wife behind him.
When he handed her divorce papers to give his pregnant mistress a place, Claire no longer hid her talents.
The woman he had overlooked was a legendary healer, racing prodigy, and a genius designer. After the divorce, she reclaimed her glory.
When he pleaded, "Honey, let's remarry," another man pulled her close. "She's my wife now. As for you... Someone, take him out and give him what he deserves!" 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." The Placeholder Bride's Secret Billionaire Revenge
Luo Ye For two years, I was the invisible force behind tech billionaire Kieran Douglas, convinced that our "private" romance was his way of protecting us from the tabloid spotlight. I managed his mergers, warmed his bed, and waited for a future that didn't exist.
The illusion shattered at 6:00 AM when a Page Six alert debuted Kieran's "real" romance with socialite Aspen Schneider. Before I could even process the betrayal, Kieran sent me a cold, professional text: "Order flowers for Aspen. Pink peonies. Her favorite."
When I tried to walk away, my own mother called me a disgrace and threatened to lock my inheritance forever unless I married a sixty-year-old businessman to save her failing estate. At a high-society gala that same night, Aspen intentionally crushed my burned hand in front of the cameras, while Kieran stood by and dismissed me as a "mediocre assistant" who had overstayed her welcome.
I stood in the cold New York rain, drenched in champagne and humiliation, realizing that every sacrifice I made for Kieran was a joke. I was a ghost in a penthouse that was never mine, discarded the moment his "soulmate" returned. To the world, I was just a placeholder whose time had run out.
But Kieran forgot one thing: my father's multi-million dollar trust fund unlocks the moment I legally marry. I didn't need love; I needed a signature and a shield. I walked into a discreet law firm and signed a marriage contract with a man I believed was the city's most notorious, scandal-ridden playboy.
I thought I was marrying a degenerate "beard" to buy my freedom and secure my revenge. I didn't realize the man who signed that paper wasn't a playboy at all, but Gaston Collins-the most powerful and dangerous man on Wall Street-and he had no intention of letting our fake marriage stay fake. The Cold CEO's Unwanted Genius Wife
Meng Xinyu I stood in the darkest corner of the Pierre Hotel’s ballroom, my cheap polyester dress itching against my skin while my wristband buzzed with a DARPA Priority Red alert.
In front of the city’s elite, my fiancé Bryce Calloway took the stage, not to toast our future, but to publicly end our engagement and announce he was with my sister, Chloe.
The room turned on me instantly, a hundred pairs of eyes pinning me down with pity and disgust as they physically backed away like I was contagious.
When I returned home, my mother shattered a crystal vase at my feet, screaming that I was a humiliation and a "dropout" who didn't deserve a cent of the family fortune.
Chloe and Bryce mocked me, laughing when I told them I had a mission with the National Security Agency, convinced I was either a pathological liar or a low-level criminal.
They watched in horror as a black, unmarked military helicopter descended on our backyard to extract me, yet they still chose to believe I was being arrested for drug trafficking.
They saw a pathetic girl who couldn't even parallel park, never realizing I was Dr. Nova Vance, the lead physicist behind the world's first successful fusion reactor.
To secure funding for my research and gain a "fortress" of a name, I signed a thirty-day marriage contract with the arrogant billionaire Roman Knight.
He treats me like a fraud, convinced I’m a gold-digger who failed out of college, while I quietly run global energy simulations from his guest bedroom.
He has no idea that the "loser" he’s forced to live with is the same anonymous grandmaster who has been ruthlessly crushing him in online strategy games for months.
"The contract is active," I told him, looking past his expensive suit.
"But don't expect me to be your maid." Zero Alimony: The CEO's Runaway Wife
Yue Manshuang I was hemorrhaging severely on the operating table, risking my life to deliver the billionaire Carlisle heir.
Through the unsealed door, I heard my husband Axel's cold, mechanical voice giving a ruthless order to the panicked doctors.
"Prioritize the heir. Above all else."
The ice spread through my veins as he reduced my entire existence to a mere vessel. After I barely survived the emergency delivery, his mother marched into my room, telling me I should be on my knees thanking God they kept me alive long enough to fulfill my only purpose. His sister barged in just to scream at me, calling me a manipulative gold-digger. And Axel? He didn't ask about my pain. He simply stared at me like a CEO evaluating a damaged asset, eventually kidnapping me from the hospital and threatening to use his Wall Street power to ensure I would never see my newborn son again.
I had secretly loved this man for years, swallowing my pride and enduring his toxic family's abuse, only to realize that in my most vulnerable moment, my life meant absolutely nothing to him. Why did I ever think I could melt his icy heart?
My heart simply stopped breaking and turned to solid stone. I bypassed his billions, called a top-tier litigator, and handed Axel a zero-alimony divorce agreement, waiving every single cent of his fortune just to make a clean break. 
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