Charlene
10 Published Stories
Charlene's Books and Stories
Five Thousand Dollar Betrayal
Billionaires My father, David Miller, a quiet indie game developer, lay dying in a county hospital, needing a $5,000 surgery.
Meanwhile, my mother, Sarah Jenkins, a tech CEO with her face on magazine covers, poured millions into a startup for her high school sweetheart' s son, Kevin, and bought him a new gaming console.
When I begged her for my father' s surgery money, her voice was crisp and distant, dismissing it as "non-essential," while Kevin, celebrating his perfect SAT score, mocked me and offered a measly twenty-dollar bill for my father' s funeral.
How could she watch my father wither and die for five thousand dollars, while lavishing millions on a boy she barely knew, mocking his memory and shattering his legacy?
With the taste of humiliation and grief still fresh, I took the twenty dollars, a down payment on a debt I swore to collect in full. The Don's Regret: Choosing The Wrong Queen
Mafia For three years, I was Dante’s shadow, the woman who took a bullet for the heir to New York’s most powerful crime family. I believed him when he said we would rule together.
But while I was bleeding for his empire, he was secretly finalizing a merger to marry Sofia, a pristine Mafia Princess.
I found the encrypted report on his desk. It didn't describe me as his partner. It called me a "useful shield" and a "necessary diversion" to protect his real bride.
When I tried to walk away, he didn't let me go. He humiliated me.
Worse, when Sofia staged a fake attack and blamed me to cover her own lies, Dante didn't ask for proof.
He dragged me out of my hospital bed, fresh from surgery, and hauled me to the estate fountain.
He shoved my head underwater, drowning the woman who had once saved his life, while Sofia watched from the balcony with a smirk.
"You touched what is mine!" he screamed, choosing a liar over the soldier who loved him.
I left that night, bleeding and broken, vanishing into the storm without a trace.
Two years later, I am a celebrated artist in Paris, and the man standing beside me looks at me like I am the sun, not a shield.
Dante stands outside my gallery in the freezing rain, looking ruined, begging for a second chance.
He tells me he knows the truth now. He tells me he loves me.
I look at him, then at the engagement ring on my finger—one given by a man who never had to break me to love me.
"I didn't erase our history, Dante," I say, rolling up the car window.
"I survived it." The Bottom Line: His Suffering
Modern My husband Gabriel's affair with his young protégée, Kaia, had already cost me everything. Our marriage was a hollow shell, and his cruelty had even led to the miscarriage of our child, leaving me broken.
But the day he defended Kaia by slapping my ten-year-old niece, Bea, so hard he ruptured her eardrum, something inside me finally snapped for good.
He stood over her small, unconscious body and screamed, "She deserved it!"
He had already financially ruined my brother and now had brutalized a child-all to protect his mistress.
The man I had loved for sixteen years was a monster.
All the pain and grief I'd carried for so long burned away, leaving only cold, hard resolve.
He expected tears. He expected hysterics. Instead, when I found him at the hospital, I walked straight up to him and slapped him across the face. "My family is my bottom line, Gabriel," I said, my voice dangerously calm. "You crossed it. And now, I will make you suffer." A Love Betrayed, A Future Reclaimed
Modern The phone buzzed, pulling me from a complex guitar passage.
It was Jake' s assistant, frantic: "There' s been an accident. Jake' s at St. Mary' s. He needs a transfusion. You' re the only match."
My world tilted.
I raced to the hospital, heart hammering, and gave my blood, my love, to save him.
An hour later, Jake' s assistant reappeared, looking annoyed.
"It was just a prank," he said, not meeting my eyes. "Jake' s fine. He' s at a party."
My blood ran cold.
I found my discarded blood, half-full, tossed like garbage, next to a service exit.
Then I heard laughter.
Jake, perfectly fine, emerged with Chloe, his childhood friend.
"Did you see her face?" Chloe cackled. "So pathetic."
Jake chuckled, a sound that now turned my stomach.
"She' d do anything for me, Chloe. It' s been three years. I told you I' d make her pay for what she did. For stealing that scholarship."
The scholarship. The red wine on my performance dress. The missed audition. All cruel jokes.
He never loved me. I was a tool, a target in his meticulously planned revenge.
The pain was a physical weight, but beneath it, a cold resolve hardened.
I clutched my phone, a single tear tracing a path down my cheek.
I called my brother.
"Liam," I said, my voice dead. "That offer… to study with the Maestro in Europe. Is it still open?"
"Of course, Liv. Why?"
"I' m taking it. I' m leaving. Tonight."
He thought he had destroyed me. He was wrong. I was just getting started. My Wife, My Enemy
Romance Five years into our child-free marriage, a rule my wife Sarah adamantly enforced, she introduced me to Luke and Annie, identical three-year-old twins, claiming they were "ours now."
My heart, longing for a family despite a vasectomy two years prior, a sacrifice for her, soared with a confusing mix of shock and overwhelming hope. I believed she had changed her mind, the silent sadness I carried finally seen.
But that hope shattered when my doctor revealed the devastating truth: my procedure wasn't a simple vasectomy; my seminal vesicles had been completely removed five years ago, leaving me permanently infertile.
Then, a whispered conversation between Sarah and her brother confirmed my worst fears: the twins were Mark' s, her "dying" lover, and my seminal vesicles had been transplanted into him. My love was never enough; I was merely a tool.
The house, once my home, became a battleground of deceit. Sarah, the master manipulator, twisted every truth, using the very children born of her betrayal to isolate and hurt me.
I was a ghost in my own life, watching the woman I loved play happy family with her real obsession, Mark. The pain of betrayal was a physical ache, yet a chilling clarity emerged: her carefully constructed world was about to unravel.
Who was this woman I married? Who orchestrated such a grotesque scheme, using my body, my fortune, to fulfill a twisted fantasy? The innocence of the life I thought I had was brutally stripped away, leaving only a raw, burning injustice. How could I have been so blind?
Lying alone in the guest room, the ashes of my old life scattered in the fireplace, I didn't cry. I made a plan. I wouldn't just leave. I would dismantle her world, piece by piece. The fight for my self-preservation had just begun. When Betrayal Kills Twice
Romance The roaring motorcycles ripped through Montana's quiet air, a sound I knew too well from a life already lived.
I stood on my porch, one hand on my pregnant belly, knowing this wasn't just a day; it was the past crashing into the present, threatening a tragedy I thought I' d escaped.
In my first life, Caleb, my husband, had killed me after his "true love" Amber died.
This time, when the mayor begged me to fetch him, I simply refused, protecting my unborn child.
But Caleb, blinded by obsession, had already spun a wicked lie.
He told Sheriff Brody I was having a jealous breakdown and had contacted the bikers myself.
Brody, Caleb' s loyal friend, believed him.
He handcuffed me, mistaking my pleas for insane ramblings.
Then, in his misplaced fury, he shoved me down.
I fell, a searing pain tearing through my abdomen.
On the dusty ground, I watched a dark stain spread, my baby gone.
Blamed for the town's massacre, for the deaths of innocents, accused of turning traitor by the very man who' d condemned me once before – how could my second chance be so much worse?
But just as despair threatened to consume me, sirens pierced the chaos.
State troopers arrived, armed with a confession: the true traitor wasn't me, but Caleb' s beloved Amber, the biker gang' s mole.
With my innocence revealed, a new, brutal fight for justice had just begun. Too Late For His Savior Complex
Romance My boyfriend Ben and I had been together for seven years.
He was the golden boy of our CS department, always helping everyone.
But then Jessica, a new junior, entered the picture.
His "mentorship" quickly escalated, from late-night, winky-face DMs to public declarations of needing his "heroic" help.
When I expressed discomfort, Ben dismissed me, accusing me of being "sensitive" or "dramatic."
He even publicly sided with Jessica during her fake apologies.
He cancelled our anniversary trip to "save" her hackathon project.
Jessica brazenly flaunted their cozy "study session" on social media, on my birthday.
Campus rumors soon turned into a full-blown smear campaign, discrediting my academic achievements.
The ultimate betrayal came when Ben weaponized my deepest trauma against me, calling me "paranoid."
Then he actively sabotaged my career and punished my best friend for defending me.
My heart shattered.
How could the man I loved for seven years become this cold, cruel stranger, so blind to manipulation?
I was heartbroken, but a cold anger ignited.
I wouldn't just sit there and watch my life crumble.
I quietly gathered every piece of evidence against Jessica's malicious scheme.
I poured all my shattered energy into securing the most coveted internship in tech-the very one Ben had always dreamed of.
The truth, and my triumph, were about to be revealed. Seventeen Again: The Day Everything Changed
Young Adult I died peacefully in my eighties, only to shockingly wake up seventeen again, still in my childhood bedroom. It was college application day, and everything felt eerily familiar, especially my lifelong dream with best friend Jack and boyfriend Kevin: Princeton, shared dorms, and a future intertwined.
But the comfort shattered an instant later. Kevin and Jack, my supposed "constants," calmly announced they were ditching the Ivy League. Their new plan? State University, staying local, all to "support" Brittany, the head cheerleader—a non-entity in my previous life—who claimed her family was in crisis.
The betrayal hit like a physical blow. Suddenly, my meticulously organized SAT notes, the very tools of *my* ambition, were handed over to Brittany without a second thought. They paraded her scores, reveling in *her* success, while publicly dismissing my shock and mocking my sudden declaration of choosing UC Berkeley. At the graduation party, they treated Brittany like royalty, their arms around her, their attention solely hers, while I became an irrelevant outsider. The yearbook, a symbol of our unbreakable bond, bore their dismissive scrawls, cementing my abandonment.
How could the boys who were my rocks, my future, obliterate *our* shared dream for someone they barely knew? Why did their chivalry translate into such a profound betrayal of me? The sheer injustice and confusion were a cold knot in my stomach.
But I wouldn't let their misplaced heroism define me. No longer the girl who silently absorbed their choices, I clutched my Berkeley acceptance, booked a one-way flight, and definitively chose my own destiny. This time, I was playing for myself. You might like
Wrong Room: Sleeping With My Fiancé's Uncle
Natala O'neal To revenge herself on her unfaithful fiancé Kevin, Isidora hides her striking beauty behind a plain disguise, and targets his uncle — the most formidable man Kevin fears.
After one reckless night, Isidora leaves cash as payment and says lightly, "You were good last night." She tries to leave quietly, but is pulled into his arms.
"You think you can walk away after this?" he says, his tone low and possessive.
Cedrick is a feared, untouchable titan on Wall Street — elegant, aloof, and completely uninterested in women. Not even the most beautiful socialites in the city can catch his eye. When gossip spreads that he was seen pressing a woman against a wall and kissing her fiercely, no one believes it.
When the rumors name Isidora, the crowd scoffs. He rejects even the most beautiful women, so why would he notice a plain girl like her?
All doubt disappears when they see the dignified Cedrick drop to one knee to help Isidora with her shoe, pleading softly for just one kiss.
When Kevin finally sees Isidora's true beauty and begs for forgiveness. But Cedrick kicks him out at once, slams a marriage certificate on the table, and says sharply.
“Call her Aunt.” No More Your Scorned Wife: The Medical Empress Returns
Ela Osaretin "Sign it. Save her, and I'll give you anything."
For four years, I was Damian Wright's 'invisible wife'.
While I played the pauper, he poured his soul into his dying first love. Desperate, he blindly signed a stack of papers to buy the 'Gifted Doctor's' time.
He didn't read the fine print. Buried inside was our Divorce Decree.
"Congratulations, Damian," I said, stripping off my surgical mask to reveal the wife he never truly knew. "You're free."
The submissive Amelia is dead.
The legendary 'Ghost Surgeon'? That's me.
The blindfolded racing queen 'Raven'? Also me.
The shadow behind the global intelligence network V-Null? Still me.
I was ready to vanish, but Lucas Sullivan-the titan who makes the Wrights look like peasants-blocked my path.
When Damian tried to reclaim me, Lucas didn't just stop him; he brought an empire to its knees.
"They don't deserve to look at you," Lucas whispered, his touch a lethal mix of protection and obsession. "But if you crave the world, Amelia, I'll burn it down just to hear you say my name."
I Slapped My Fiancé-Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis
Jessica C. Dolan Being second best is practically in my DNA. My sister got the love, the attention, the spotlight. And now, even her damn fiancé.
Technically, Rhys Granger was my fiancé now-billionaire, devastatingly hot, and a walking Wall Street wet dream. My parents shoved me into the engagement after Catherine disappeared, and honestly? I didn't mind. I'd crushed on Rhys for years. This was my chance, right? My turn to be the chosen one?
Wrong.
One night, he slapped me. Over a mug. A stupid, chipped, ugly mug my sister gave him years ago. That's when it hit me-he didn't love me. He didn't even see me. I was just a warm-bodied placeholder for the woman he actually wanted. And apparently, I wasn't even worth as much as a glorified coffee cup.
So I slapped him right back, dumped his ass, and prepared for disaster-my parents losing their minds, Rhys throwing a billionaire tantrum, his terrifying family plotting my untimely demise.
Obviously, I needed alcohol. A lot of alcohol.
Enter him.
Tall, dangerous, unfairly hot. The kind of man who makes you want to sin just by existing. I'd met him only once before, and that night, he just happened to be at the same bar as my drunk, self-pitying self. So I did the only logical thing: I dragged him into a hotel room and ripped off his clothes.
It was reckless. It was stupid. It was completely ill-advised.
But it was also: Best. Sex. Of. My. Life.
And, as it turned out, the best decision I'd ever made.
Because my one-night stand isn't just some random guy. He's richer than Rhys, more powerful than my entire family, and definitely more dangerous than I should be playing with.
And now, he's not letting me go. Craving for My Tyrant Husband
Cosme Seidel I was cheated on by my scumbag boyfriend.
On the night I got blackout drunk, I married a stranger, and when I woke up, I only found a marriage certificate and a black card.
He took care of my scumbag ex for me, gave me a canary diamond ring, but refused to show his face-he only called me baby on video calls.
I ran to my best friend's house to hide, only to find that the billionaire next door, who made my heart skip a beat, had the exact same scent as him.
My best friend cried and begged me: "He's Augustus, a tyrant who eats people alive!"
But only I knew that the man who pressed me against the terrace railing, leaned down to kiss me, and whispered "I'll protect you" softly.
Fifty thousand dollars to sneak photos of his private office? I'll go.
Not for the money, but to ask him to his face-
Gus, how many secrets are you hiding? And how long have you been craving me? The Unwanted Wife Walks Away Free
Dong Lier For fourteen years, Faith was the perfect Jarvis trophy wife. Plucked from her parents' funeral at seventeen, she was molded into an obedient, quiet accessory for Branson's billionaire empire.
But while she managed his charities and smiled at galas until her face ached, he was busy humiliating her. She found another woman's gold bracelet in his desk, and today, his affair with a 23-year-old actress was broadcast on a massive electronic billboard right above his own Wall Street headquarters.
For years, Faith had endured his coldness. He stopped touching her after the second miscarriage. He left her alone to cry in the back of his chauffeured cars at 3 AM. He thought her silence meant she was too weak, too poor, and too grateful to ever walk away. He called her a "cheap pet" who couldn't survive without his credit cards and mansions.
He truly believed she needed someone else to want her before she could leave him. He never understood that wanting herself was enough. Did he really think she spent all those lonely nights just crying in her gilded cage?
He was dead wrong. Faith didn't just pack a cheap duffel bag to run away. She walked right into his seventy-third-floor corner office, slammed down a zero-compensation divorce agreement, and tossed a highly encrypted USB drive onto his desk.
"Sign the papers today, Branson. Or I hand your company's deepest secrets to a short-seller, and we watch your empire burn." The Discarded Heiress: Marrying My Lethal Husband
Xiao Wang The rain in Detroit was slick with grime when my family finally came to fetch me. They didn't want a reunion; they wanted a sacrificial lamb to marry into the Kaufman empire to save their failing business.
I thought I was just being sold off, but the limo ride ended under a dark overpass where six hired thugs were waiting with chains. My own sister had ordered them to "break my spirit" so I’d be a shaking, pathetic mess by the time I reached the altar.
They called me "Detroit trash" and sprayed air freshener when I sat on their leather seats. My stepmother wanted a video of me begging for my life, and my father was ready to trade me like a used car to a man everyone called a "vegetable." They expected a submissive country girl, unaware that I was a high-level "cleaner" who could snap a radius bone before they could even scream.
When I finally reached the Kaufman estate, I found my fiancé, Barron, slumped in a wheelchair, drooling and silent. But as soon as the doors closed, the "invalid" grabbed my wrist with a grip of iron and whispered a command that changed everything.
I didn't understand why my own blood was so desperate to see me destroyed. What had I ever done to deserve a hit squad and a forced marriage to a man they thought was a corpse?
But Barron isn't a vegetable, and I'm not a victim. We just touched down at the Moon family gala in a matte-black helicopter, and as the doors slide open, the "broken" bride is about to show them exactly what happens when you throw away the wrong daughter.
"If we're going to crash a party," Barron whispered, his eyes burning with lethal clarity, "we should make an entrance." My Accidental Billionaire husband
Favor V April They say what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, mine didn't.
I came back with a marriage certificate bearing a stranger's name, a ring worth more than my parents' love ever was, and a son whose father I've never seen, never known, never remembered.
I went to Vegas for a racing competition. I won. I celebrated. And somewhere between the victory and the sunrise, my life changed forever.
For six years, I've lived with the consequences of one reckless night. I built an empire. I raised my son. And I searched for the man who changed my life without even knowing it.
Then fate laughed in my face.
My sister married my ex-fiancé-the man I was promised to since childhood. The man I was supposed to become Mrs. Windsor for. The man who now wears my family name... and looks far too much like my child.
Every time I'm near him, the past presses closer. Every glance feels like a question I'm terrified to ask. I shouldn't notice him. I shouldn't feel anything. He is my sister's husband.
But some secrets refuse to stay buried.
Because the truth about Vegas isn't just in the ring on my finger or the child in my arms.
It's standing right in front of me.
And when it finally comes out, it won't just destroy a marriage, it will burn an empire to the ground.
Her Secret Identity: The Tycoon’s Unplanned Wife
JESSICA KIRK My family arranged my marriage to Silas Thorne, a Wall Street titan. There was just one problem: everyone, including my powerful new husband, believed I was a crippled, helpless girl from the countryside.
On the day of my physical therapy, my father called, not to ask how I was, but to demand I give up the marriage for his illegitimate daughter, Chloe.
"You can barely walk without a limp," he sneered. "You are going to embarrass the Vance family."
My new husband treated me with cold duty, carrying me like a fragile doll but refusing to share a bed, citing my ‘soft tissue injury’ as a pathetic excuse. The rejection was humiliating. To make matters worse, Chloe tracked me down while I was shopping, eager to mock me in public.
"Silas doesn't value you," she said, flashing a cheap ring from my father. "You’re just a crippled placeholder."
They all saw a weak girl they could push around, completely blind to the fact that my limp was a carefully crafted lie.
So I took the unlimited black card Silas gave me and bought a fifty-seven-million-dollar pink diamond, crushing her in front of New York’s elite. When I returned to our penthouse, Silas was waiting for me, a dangerous smirk on his face.
"I heard," he said, his voice a low rumble, "that you bought a star with my money today?" Sexy Behind The Mask
Ellie Wynters She hides behind ugly suits and fake names. He's done trusting women. When they meet in a masked sex club, neither realizes they've been fighting each other across boardroom tables for eighteen months. At Taylor Industries, she's Joy Smith-the frumpy CFO who drowns her curves in shapeless polyester and wearing a wig. At home, she's the forgotten wife of a cheating lawyer who hasn't touched her in so long she's starting to wonder if she's broken. When she finds hot pink lace panties stuffed in her couch cushions...definitely not hers, it's not heartbreak she feels. It's freedom. Grayson Taylor doesn't do relationships anymore. Not after walking in on his actress fiancée with another woman. Now he channels everything into hostile takeovers and board meetings, especially the ones where his overcautious CFO fights him on every goddamn acquisition. Joy Smith is brilliant, infuriating, and funny when he pushes all her buttons. But Honey is tired of being invisible. Tired of never having felt real pleasure. So, when her best friend gives her the details of The Velvet Room-Manhattan's most exclusive masked club-she promises herself just one night. One night to find out if her husband's right, if she really is frigid, or if she's just never been touched by the right hands. She doesn't expect the masked stranger who claims her the second she walks in. Doesn't expect the chemistry that ignites between them, the way he makes her body sing, or the orgasms that leave her shaking. Doesn't expect him to hand her an email address with one command: "Only me. No one else touches you." 
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