Chen Ziluo
10 Published Stories
Chen Ziluo's Books and Stories
Shattered Vows: The Unwanted Wife's Escape
Romance I played the perfect, obedient trophy wife to billionaire Haiden Moran for three years.
But the Monday after his grandfather's funeral, he coldly handed me divorce papers.
He offered a massive payout, calling our marriage a "buyout of my time." I was never his wife, just a prop to secure his inheritance.
That night, after a chaotic run-in at a club, he dragged me back to our penthouse. In a desperate, drug-fueled haze, we crossed the line.
But when I woke up the next morning, covered in marks, his side of the bed was completely cold. He had snuck out like a thief.
Seeking a final sliver of closure, I called his private number.
A breathless, feminine voice answered instead.
"Mr. Moran left his phone here. Oh, and I have his fresh shirt ironed and ready."
My blood ran cold. He had left my bed and gone straight to another woman. My three years of devotion meant absolutely nothing.
I permanently blocked his number, severed all our joint accounts, and booked a one-way first-class ticket to Maui to disappear forever.
But just as the plane doors were about to close, a man walked down the aisle and casually sat in the seat right next to mine.
It was Haiden. The Vanished Luna: Returning to Reject the Alpha
Werewolf "Not guilty."
With those two words, my husband, the Alpha, acquitted his mistress of poisoning my mother.
I had the toxicology reports. I had the receipts. But Garrison didn't care.
He looked me in the eye, his hand resting possessively on Keyla's back, and told me to stop making a scene.
That was just the beginning of my hell.
He moved Keyla into our master suite and forced me into the servant's quarters.
"Since you can't give me strong pups," he sneered, "you can serve those who do."
I became the maid in my own home, washing Keyla's silk lingerie while she wore my Luna robes.
When I tried to fight back, he used the Alpha Command to silence me and locked me in a room filled with silver dust that burned my skin like acid.
He even drugged me and offered me to a rival Alpha just to secure a timber deal.
He thought he had broken me. He thought I was just a weak Omega who would eventually fade away.
But he forgot that my mother taught me everything about poisons.
On the night of the yacht party, I didn't just jump into the dark ocean to escape.
I jumped to be reborn.
I flushed my wedding ring, severed the bond, and let the icy water swallow Janette the victim.
Garrison thought I was dead.
He didn't know that the ocean wouldn't kill me. It would awaken my true bloodline.
And when I came back, I wasn't his wife anymore.
I was a White Wolf, and I was going to burn his pack to the ground. Mistaken for a Rogue: The Alpha's True Heir
Werewolf I was eight years old when my father, Alpha Derek, raided the rogue bunker to save my mother.
I thought I was finally safe.
But because I reeked of the wolfsbane chemicals used to hide my scent, my mother looked at me with pure disgust.
"Get that thing away from me! It smells like him!" she shrieked.
To protect his traumatized mate, my father didn't check my DNA. He threw me into the garage to sleep on oily rags.
For months, I was the true Alpha's daughter, yet I was forced to eat dog food while they pampered a fake orphan named Kylie in my place.
When Kylie ordered the guard dog to tear my arm open, my mother stood at the window.
Instead of saving me, she let the maid close the curtains so she wouldn't have to see the blood.
I only became useful when my father got into a critical car crash.
They drained my rare "Moon Blood" to save his life, then immediately signed papers to ship me off to a labor camp to get rid of the "stain" on their family.
They thought I was a dirty rogue.
They didn't know the chemical smell was masking the rarest bloodline in a century.
I am not a rogue.
I am a White Wolf.
And just as my grandfather discovers the DNA results and falls to his knees in regret, the most powerful pack in the North has already arrived to claim me as their queen. The Woman I Saved Destroyed Me
Horror One moment, I was crossing the street, holding my fiancée Olivia' s hand, laughing about our future.
The next, a careening black sedan was aimed right at her.
There was no time to think; I pushed her to safety, taking the hit myself.
I woke up three years later, my face a ruin, my body a stranger to me.
But the real horror began when I saw Olivia on TV-a celebrity, crying beautiful, convincing tears about her supposedly devoted fiancé, who she visited "every day."
She even fooled me, lying there paralyzed in my hospital bed, while I dreamed of returning to her.
After grueling surgeries and therapy, I went home to surprise her.
Instead, I found her celebrating with my best friend, Mark, who confessed they' d let my frail mother "waste away" and seized all my assets.
My mother, gone. My home, desecrated.
The woman I saved, the friend I trusted, had systematically destroyed everything I loved, believing I was a "vegetable."
My world shattered again, replaced by a burning desire for vengeance.
I was no longer the man I used to be.
I was a ghost, returned to reclaim what was mine and make them pay. Her Regret, His Peace
Romance They told me it was a contract marriage, a deal to save my mother' s life.
In reality, it was my own slow death sentence.
For three years, I was hired to be Chloe Davis' s husband, the man she blamed for ruining her life after her high school sweetheart dumped her.
I endured her endless parade of boyfriends, her daily allowance of five dollars, and constant humiliation, all to ensure my ailing mother received the best care.
Then, the day my mother died, Chloe' s assistant called, demanding I return home from the funeral to make snacks for a party.
Chloe, my wife, had no idea my mother was gone.
Days later, I learned the truth: my mother had committed suicide to free me, after Chloe' s cousin, Jake Stone, maliciously convinced her that she was an inescapable burden.
That night, at a club, Chloe poured red wine over my head for Jake' s amusement.
But the ultimate betrayal came when I collapsed from malnutrition and exhaustion.
Chloe visited me in the hospital, not with concern, but to demand I take the fall for Jake' s drunk driving accident.
The irony was suffocating; her own reckless driving had caused the power outage that shut down my mother' s life support, effectively killing her.
"No," I told her, my voice finally firm after years of silence.
"I want a divorce."
Her shock was absolute; I had never defied her.
Before I could escape, Jake ambushed me, confessing his role in my mother' s death, triggering a rage that landed me back in the hospital.
Yet, Chloe watched as her bodyguards, on her command, broke my ribs and crushed my painting hand.
Why had my life become this torment?
Why had I, a quiet artist, become the target of such unbridled cruelty?
I left with my mother' s ashes, leaving behind all the money, and promised myself I' d never look back. His Penance, My Freedom
Billionaires Two years, Alex.
It's been two years.
My whisper was dry, lost in the cold, vast living room where I knelt on marble, gripping his expensive trousers.
For two years, since his mother' s death, this had been my life, my prison.
He blamed me, twisted a lie of grief into his truth: I' d hidden her sickness for his company' s IPO.
Every week, a different woman.
They wore my robes, used my perfume, slept in our bed.
My task: welcome, serve, clean.
I swallowed humiliation because my father was sick, his treatments astronomically expensive.
Alex Thorne, my husband, was my only hope.
But when I begged for money, for my father on his deathbed, Alex sneered, "Let him die."
"It's what he deserves for having a daughter like you."
Then the hospital called: My father was gone.
He took his own life, leaving a note, not wanting to be a burden.
I was on my knees, begging for a life already lost.
"Problem solved," Alex chirped to his current paramour, tossing my phone aside.
My world shattered.
He was a monster who savored my pain.
Something inside me snapped.
The part that endured, that hoped, broke.
"No," I said, rising on shaky legs.
"I want a divorce, Alex."
He laughed, demanding I apologize to his mistress, then commanded me to clean toilets with a toothbrush.
He was mocking me.
Humiliating me.
Using my deepest wounds as his amusement.
But as I knelt once more, a single thought crystallised: I wouldn't just leave him.
I would erase him.
And when he then shoved me, triggering a terrifying pain and a warm, wet sensation, I knew my silent revolution had just begun.
He might have killed my father and our unborn child, but he had just awakened the storm within me. Hidden From Him
Romance Growing up in her uncle Ethan's quiet mansion after her mother died, Sarah secretly fell in love with her charismatic guardian, a prominent figure in Austin's tech scene. On her 21st birthday, emboldened by champagne and years of unspoken longing, Sarah kissed him. To her astonishment, he kissed her back. The next morning, he proposed marriage, even offering a lavish $500,000 as a "wedding gift." Her heart soared – the man she loved wanted her!
But her joy turned to ice when she accidentally stumbled upon his private messages. The "proposal" was a calculated sham, a desperate ploy to win back his ex-girlfriend, Jessica. He called Sarah a "pawn," the money a "payoff," planning to "deal with" her once Jessica returned. Her world shattered in a million pieces as she overheard him smugly tell Jessica he would merely "send her away" or make her "disappear." The man she idolized had brutally exposed himself as a manipulative monster.
How could he, her guardian, her supposed fiancé, treat her with such cold disdain? The betrayal stung, leaving her hollow and humiliated. Refusing to be cast aside like a discarded toy, Sarah secretly canceled their wedding. After a fierce, public confrontation where she declared their engagement over, a shocked confidante of Ethan's approached her with a chilling proposition: to fake her own death and vanish, making a clean break from the man who had mercilessly used her. The Monte Cristo Heiress
Billionaires My family, the Thompsons, was crumbling, and I was paraded before the powerful elite, the Ashworths, Albrights, and Cartwrights, supposedly to secure a lifeline through a strategic marriage.
My childhood friends-Caleb, Leo, and Julian-were the intended targets.
But at a humiliating dinner, they didn't just reject me; Julian, the one I'd always trusted, dropped a bomb: it was a bet, a game to see if he could "rehabilitate the fallen Ava Thompson."
Shattered, I fled, inventing a boyfriend, a lie that miraculously led me to Nate, a kind outsider who made me feel truly seen.
Our fragile peace was my escape, until the day my past violently resurfaced.
Nate wasn't just a quiet artist; he was Caleb's vengeful cousin, the mastermind behind the vicious cyberbullying that had nearly destroyed me last year, using my pain to further his own twisted agenda.
The betrayal was a gut punch, realizing I'd walked from one manipulator's hands into a far more insidious trap.
How could I have been so blind, so foolish, to be used and discarded again and again?
But this time, the helplessness curdled into ice-cold rage; I wouldn't be a victim anymore, I would be the architect of my own fate.
I meticulously exposed Nate' s dark scheme, watching his carefully constructed life implode.
Yet, my father, in a last desperate gamble, drugged Caleb and me, staging a fake engagement scandal to seize control of the Ashworth fortune.
Cornered, but seeing an undeniable opening, I turned to Julian, the original betrayer, and whispered, "It was always you."
He swallowed the lie, becoming my unwitting protector and weapon.
Julian tore down my father, rescued my mother, crushed Caleb, and ensured my absolute safety, believing it was for love.
When everything was finally secured, I left him a single, symbolic book-"The Count of Monte Cristo"-and disappeared, finally truly free. The Price of Devotion: His Other Woman's Lies
Billionaires I was Sarah Miller, Marcus Thorne' s wife, a public asset in his gleaming empire.
Our life, from galas to high-stakes business, was a meticulously crafted facade.
But Marcus' s true devotion was reserved for Vivian Hayes, his late partner' s widow and mother of his son, Leo.
He canceled our feverish daughter Lily' s doctor' s appointment because Leo had a "sniffle."
He fired a man for upsetting Vivian.
I was always the shield, absorbing his neglect, but the line blurred when I confronted him about Vivian' s abuse of Lily.
He didn' t just dismiss it; he raised his hand. Not at me, but at our own daughter.
He slapped Lily, a sharp, sickening crack across her small cheek.
Time stopped.
Lily cried out, a small, choked sound.
Marcus, his face a mask of cold indifference, simply muttered about "respecting Vivian."
Later that night, reeking of Vivian' s cloying perfume, he attempted a reconciliation, only to abandon me again when she called with another supposed "panic attack."
My little girl, her cheek still red, crept into my room, quietly, heartbreakingly.
Her small hand found mine.
"Mommy," she whispered, her voice clear despite the pain, "He' s left us for her a hundred times."
Her words, old with a child' s painful wisdom, finally shattered the last, desperate shred of my endurance and hope. The final piece of my former self crumbled to dust.
She looked at me, her eyes resolute.
"Let' s go. We don' t need him."
And in that moment, as she clung to me, I knew this wasn't just about escape.
We wouldn't just leave quietly. No. We would make them pay.
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Shielded By The Ruthless Military Boss
Mo Yufei I was an intern nurse working exhausting shifts, yet my mother constantly forced me into blind dates with wealthy, arrogant men to secure our family's social standing.
During a terrifying hospital lockdown, an assassin disguised as a doctor held a scalpel to my throat. I was almost killed, but a high-ranking military colonel threw his own body down a flight of concrete stairs to shield me.
I survived with cuts and bruises, but when I went home, my mother didn't care about my near-death experience. She was only furious that I had rushed out on my blind date with Preston, a rich financial analyst.
She forced me to meet him to apologize. When Preston grabbed my arm, bruised me, and mocked my attack as a pathetic lie, my mother still took his side.
"Men get angry," she told me coldly. "It's your job not to provoke them. You will beg for his forgiveness, or you are no longer welcome in this house."
I had narrowly escaped an assassin, yet my own family was willing to feed me to a monster just for a fat paycheck and neighborhood gossip.
My heart went completely dead.
So, when the intimidating Colonel appeared, offering me maximum military protection through a sudden marriage, I didn't hesitate.
I walked back into my parents' house and calmly slapped a crisp marriage certificate onto the coffee table.
"I won't be apologizing to Preston. I got married today." Flash Marriage To My Best Friend's Father
Madel Cerda I was once the heiress to the Solomon empire, but after it crumbled, I became the "charity case" ward of the wealthy Hyde family. For years, I lived in their shadows, clinging to the promise that Anson Hyde would always be my protector.
That promise shattered when Anson walked into the ballroom with Claudine Chapman on his arm. Claudine was the girl who had spent years making my life a living hell, and now Anson was announcing their engagement to the world.
The humiliation was instant. Guests sneered at my cheap dress, and a waiter intentionally sloshed champagne over me, knowing I was a nobody. Anson didn't even look my way; he was too busy whispering possessively to his new fiancée. I was a ghost in my own home, watching my protector celebrate with my tormentor.
The betrayal burned. I realized I wasn't a ward; I was a pawn Anson had kept on a shelf until he found a better trade. I had no money, no allies, and a legal trust fund that Anson controlled with a flick of his wrist.
Fleeing to the library, I stumbled into Dallas Koch-a titan of industry and my best friend's father. He was a wall of cold, absolute power that even the Hydes feared.
"Marry me," I blurted out, desperate to find a shield Anson couldn't climb.
Dallas didn't laugh. He pulled out a marriage agreement and a heavy fountain pen.
"Sign," he commanded, his voice a low rumble. "But if you walk out that door with me, you never go back."
I signed my name, trading my life for the only man dangerous enough to keep me safe. While I Was Bleeding Out, He Lit Lanterns For Her
Katie Oettgen As I lay on the floor of our manor, bleeding out from a ruptured ectopic pregnancy, I used my last ounce of strength to call my husband, Cole.
I begged him for help, my vision blurring.
But the only thing I heard was the clinking of champagne glasses and his mistress's giggle in the background.
"Stop the drama, June," Cole snapped, his voice cold. "We're about to go on stage. Don't call again."
He hung up, leaving me to die alone on the Persian rug while he accepted an award with another woman on his arm.
I woke up in the hospital days later. My baby was gone. They had removed my fallopian tube.
Cole finally arrived, smelling of expensive scotch and his mistress's perfume. He didn't hug me. He didn't cry.
Instead, he leaned over my hospital bed, pressing his knee into the mattress until my fresh stitches tore open and bled.
"You embarrassed me by calling an ambulance," he hissed. "My mistress, Alycia, says you're faking it. Clean yourself up."
He left me bleeding again to go announce a $10 million donation to Alycia's "groundbreaking" medical research.
I stared at the TV screen, numb. The research Alycia was taking credit for? It was mine. I wrote that patent years ago under a pseudonym.
They thought I was just a poor, orphan housewife who needed Cole's money to survive.
They had no idea I was actually a billionaire scientist hiding my identity.
I pulled the IV needle out of my arm. A drop of blood fell onto the divorce papers I had been hiding.
I didn't wipe it off. I signed my name right over it.
Then I walked into the bank, reactivated my dormant account with $128 million, and bought the penthouse directly overlooking Cole's house.
The mourning widow is dead. The avenger is born. One Night With My Billionaire Boss
Nathaniel Stone I woke up on silk sheets that smelled of expensive cedar and cold sandalwood, a world away from my cramped apartment in Brooklyn.
Beside me lay Ezra Gardner-my boss, the billionaire CEO of Gardner Holdings, and the man who could end my career with a snap of his fingers.
He didn't offer an apology for the night before; instead, he looked at me with terrifying clarity and proposed a cold, calculated business arrangement.
"Marriage. It stabilizes the board and solves the PR crisis before it begins."
He dressed me in archival Chanel and sent me home in his Maybach, but my life was already falling apart. My boyfriend, Irving, claimed he had passed out early, yet his location data placed him at my best friend's apartment until three in the morning. When I tried to run, I realized Ezra was already ten steps ahead, tracking my movements and uncovering the secret I'd spent twenty years hiding: my connection to the powerful Senator Grimes.
I was trapped between a CEO who treated me like a line item on a quarterly report and a boyfriend who had been using me while sleeping with my closest friend. I felt like a pawn in a game I didn't understand, wondering why a man like Ezra would walk up forty flights of stairs on a broken leg just to make sure I was safe.
"Showtime, Mrs. Gardner."
Standing on the red carpet in a gown that cost more than my life, I watched my cheating ex-boyfriend's face turn pale as Ezra claimed me in front of the world. I wasn't just an assistant anymore; I was a weapon, and it was time to burn their world down. Too Late: The Masked Heiress Returns
Annabell Seto Chloe Beaumont's adopted sister, Victoria, handed her a glass of champagne with a sweet smile right before the violent car crash.
Victoria and Chloe's fiancé, Asher, left her in the freezing rain with broken ribs and a dislocated arm, certain she would die.
When Chloe dragged her bleeding, mud-caked body back to the estate three days later, her family didn't offer a shred of comfort.
Instead, Victoria squeezed out fake tears, claiming Chloe had gone insane.
"Mother! Chloe came back and started saying these crazy things, and then she attacked me!"
Her stepmother slapped her, her brothers called her a disgrace, and her father coldly watched as they accused Chloe of faking her horrific wounds for attention.
They even conspired to marry her off to a dying, reclusive heir just to clear the path for Victoria's grand engagement.
Looking at their disgusted faces, Chloe's usually warm eyes turned to ice.
She finally understood that her own family never cared if she lived or died; they only wanted her out of the way.
But she wasn't the weak, naive girl they thought they had broken.
Using her hidden skills, Chloe meticulously painted a grotesque, permanent-looking burn scar across her cheek.
She picked the lock of her bedroom door and headed straight for Victoria and Asher's lavish engagement party.
If they wanted to treat her like a ruined monster, she would use that mask to tear their perfect, glittering world to shreds. Too Late, Mr. CEO: Watch Me Shine
Nieves Gómez Kayla stood outside the CEO suite, holding a custom suit for her fiancé, Brennon. They had spent seven years building a tech company from a freezing garage into a billion-dollar empire.
But through the cracked door, she heard the breathy laugh of Evelin, the newly hired director. Then came Brennon's low, careless voice.
"The wedding's a PR milestone for the IPO, nothing more."
Kayla's blood turned to ice.
"She's comfortable. Makes sense on paper," Brennon continued. "But you, Evelin. You understand ambition."
The betrayal hit her like a physical blow. She had written the core code that made him a billionaire. She had stayed up until 4 AM debugging while he slept on a futon. Now, he was mocking their relationship to his mistress and handing over her life's work to a woman who couldn't even read a data log.
Seven years of loyalty, reduced to a PR stunt. She didn't cry. Instead, a cold, violent clarity washed over her. Why should she let him keep the crown she forged?
Without a word, she pulled the three-carat diamond off her finger and dropped it into her bag. She walked out of the building, drafted her resignation, and accepted a VP position at his biggest Wall Street rival. It was time to show Brennon what happened when the real genius behind his empire decided to tear it down. Broken Ring, Billionaire Secrets: Watch Me Shine
Cornelia I sat on the edge of the examination table, the crinkle of the sanitary paper sounding like thunder in the sterile room. The doctor didn't even look at me as he confirmed the news: the pregnancy was over. My husband, Keyon, didn't answer my call. He just sent an automated text: "In a meeting."
When I returned to our cold mansion, I found his iPad glowing with a message from his "muse," Katina. He was throwing her a secret gala tonight-on our third wedding anniversary. He told her he couldn't wait to escape the "boring" and "draining" atmosphere I created at home.
Keyon didn't stumble in until 3 AM, smelling of Katina's perfume with a smear of red on his collar. When I handed him the divorce papers, he laughed in my face. He called me a "glorified housekeeper" with no skills and no future, promising I'd be back in three days begging for a subway ticket. He even bet his friends ten thousand dollars that I wouldn't survive a week without his name.
He had his assistant cancel my credit cards and block my gate access before I even reached the end of the driveway. He wanted me to starve. He wanted me to crawl. He sat in his office, mocking the "desperate" woman who pawned her three-million-dollar wedding ring for scrap metal just to pay for a meal.
I stood on the rainy curb, watching the man I had protected for three years treat my life like trash. He didn't know about the ultrasound I just threw in the bin. He didn't know that while he was calling me "dull," I was the one secretly writing the code that kept his billion-dollar empire from collapsing.
As I slid into a cheap Uber, I opened a hidden, encrypted app on my phone. The screen refreshed to a dashboard for an account Keyon didn't know existed. The balance was ten figures long-the accumulated wealth of "Solaris," the world's most elusive tech genius. Keyon thinks he just evicted a parasite, but he's about to find out he just declared war on the only person who can hit "delete" on his entire life. He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him
SHANA GRAY The sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her.
Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. "Mr. Kensington," the nurse's voice cracked, "your wife... she's critical." A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. "Liam is in the shower," Seraphina's voice purred. "Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low." Then, Liam's bored voice: "If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning." Click. The line went dead.
A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living.
Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body.
Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back. 
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