Clementine
15 Published Stories
Clementine's Books and Stories
A Substitute No More, A Queen Returns
Romance For five years, I was Jameson Blair's fiancée. For five years, my brothers finally treated me like a sister they loved.
Then my twin, Haleigh-the one who left him at the altar-returned with a fake cancer story. In five minutes, he married her.
They believed her every lie. When she tried to poison me with a venomous spider, they called me dramatic.
When she framed me for ruining her party, my brothers whipped me until I bled.
They called me a worthless substitute, a placeholder with her face.
The final straw came when they tied me to a rope and left me dangling over a cliff to die.
But I didn't die. I climbed back up, faked my death, and disappeared. They wanted a ghost. I decided to give them one. Ashes to Phoenix: A Love Reborn
Romance I pulled my fiancé from a car wreck just seconds before it exploded. The fire left my back covered in hideous scars, but I saved his life. For the four years he was in a coma, I gave up everything to be his caretaker.
Six months after he woke up, he stood on stage at his comeback press conference. He was supposed to thank me. Instead, he made a grand, romantic declaration to Estelle, his childhood sweetheart, who was smiling from the audience.
His family and Estelle then made my life a living hell. They humiliated me at a gala, ripping my dress to expose my scars. When I was beaten in an alley by thugs Estelle hired, Julian accused me of making it up to get attention.
I lay in a hospital bed, bruised and broken, while he rushed to Estelle’s side because she was "scared." I overheard him tell her he loved her and that I, his fiancée, didn't matter.
All my sacrifice, my pain, my unwavering love—it meant nothing. To him, I was just a debt he had to repay out of pity.
On our wedding day, he kicked me out of the limo and left me on the side of the highway, still in my gown, because Estelle faked a stomach ache.
I watched his car disappear. Then I hailed a taxi.
"The airport," I said. "And step on it." The Incubator Wife's Revenge
Modern My phone buzzed, revealing a text about a reservation at the city' s most exclusive restaurant. I thought my husband, David, was surprising me with a romantic dinner to celebrate my career success.
Instead, I walked into a party celebrating his ex-girlfriend, Jessica Lee, who was glowing and visibly pregnant. My daughter, Lily, stood by their side, looking at me with pure annoyance as David announced, "Anything for you, Jess. And for our baby."
Then, Lily chimed in, "Dad even got rid of that stupid dog you hated. He said the special stew for your pregnancy cravings needed a very special ingredient." My beloved champion show dog, Buster, was the "special ingredient."
The room went silent as I screamed, "You killed my dog, didn' t you? You killed Buster." David callously admitted it, saying, "It was just a dog, Sarah. A damn dog. It was for Jessica' s health." To my horror, Lily confirmed she had helped him, describing it as a mundane chore.
Overwhelmed, my world shattered. David then offered me money: "Go buy yourself a new one. A puppy. You' ll forget all about Buster in a week." The insult, so profound, jolted me into clarity.
I pushed his hand away, the money fluttering to the floor, and declared, "I want a divorce, David." The Comeback Queen
Romance For three years, I' d been Noah' s on-again, off-again girlfriend, believing his rare kindness was love and his frequent dismissals just tests of my devotion.
This constant cycle of heartbreak always ended with me patching things up, swallowing my pride, and showing up with apologies I didn' t understand.
The ultimate humiliation came at a party he threw, right after he' d broken up with me via text, only to reveal it was a bet: he' d wagered I' d come crawling back.
He' d publicly ridiculed me, then casually discarded the custom-made game controller I' d poured my soul into for our anniversary-the same anniversary that was tomorrow.
My world shattered, but the final blow wasn' t his callousness, but his demand for me to abort our child, all to protect his reputation and settle a childish rivalry.
But the truth behind our first meeting, a cruel set-up designed to make him my "hero," ignited a fire within me, transforming the pain into a fierce resolve to reclaim my life, secure my future, and fight for the family Noah never truly valued. Beyond the Betrayal: Her New Beginning
Romance I woke up, not from sleep, but like snapping back into a nightmare I'd already lived. The cramped cabin's stale air, pine scent – hauntingly familiar. Jake stood there, hand out, his voice wheedling: "Sarah, Brenda needs that locket."
Brenda. The name sent a cold shiver down my spine. My mother' s locket was still at my neck. Last time, I' d blindly given it to them, believing Brenda' s lies about feeling close to my mom. It was my first, fatal mistake.
Brenda claimed it brought her luck, and it did. For her. While I… I died. On a remote hiking trail, an "accident" watched by both Brenda and Jake. His shifty eyes, fixed on me, pushed the same line: "Brenda just feels so close to your mom with it." A predator, I thought.
A searing memory flashed: Brenda flaunting my locket, smiling, as I lay broken in that ravine, utterly abandoned. The betrayal, agony, my sickening idiocy pursuing love that led to my death. The sheer injustice burned.
But not again. "The locket?" I feigned confusion. "Oh, I think I lost it." His face fell. Good. This time, I would live. I would fight. I just needed to hold on ten more days. My brother, Major Mike Collins, was coming. No More Broken Songs
Romance My life as Gabrielle Fuller, Nashville' s sweetheart known for songs of love and forgiveness, seemed picture-perfect. My husband, Caleb Scott, the city' s "Kingmaker" producer, publicly repented for his first affair, solidifying our image as the golden couple who weathered any storm. I'd even secured our future with a brutal post-nup years ago, a secret safety net if his "mistakes" ever escalated.
Then, one rainy Tuesday, searching for tax documents, I stumbled upon a hidden folder on Caleb' s computer. "Archives," password-protected. I typed the date of his first affair, and it opened to reveal hundreds of video files.
My breath hitched. Caleb. And Molly. Not just pictures, but damning videos from last week. I watched as Molly, pregnant, sat on his lap, mocking me. "Gabrielle is easy," Caleb sneered, "She wants to believe in fairy tales. As long as I play the prince, she'll never look behind the curtain." My world imploded.
The carefully curated image of our perfect marriage, the love story that fueled my career, was a meticulously crafted lie. My husband, the man who' d promised forever, was a master manipulator, not just cheating but planning to steal my future, my dream of a family, by faking my infertility and adopting the child his mistress was carrying.
The pain was a physical blow, yet through the shock, a cold, hard clarity emerged. I wasn't going to collapse. I was going to fight back. And I knew exactly how to make him pay. The Price of a False Hero
Fantasy Ethan Miller possessed a secret gift: blood that could heal any wound, reverse any sickness.
In a past life, he used it to save Bree Vanderbilt, a beautiful socialite paralyzed from the waist down.
The Vanderbilts had promised him immense wealth and marriage, but Bree, fixated on her "hero" boyfriend, Chad Kensington, turned her back on Ethan once healed.
When Chad supposedly died searching for a cure, Bree, consumed by twisted grief, forced Ethan to try and revive him, draining him relentlessly.
Ethan died right there, exhausted from the futile attempt, unmourned by Bree, who only had eyes for her lost Chad.
It was only after his death that the bitter truth emerged: Chad wasn't a hero or a martyr; he was a cheat, murdered by a jealous husband.
Ethan had died for nothing, for a woman who mourned a liar and a scoundrel.
The betrayal, the pain, the utterly pointless sacrifice-every agonizing detail burned into his soul.
Then, with a gasping breath, he woke up, the sterile scent of his family' s hidden clinic sharp in his nostrils.
It was the exact day Eleanor Vanderbilt was scheduled to bring her paralyzed daughter, Bree, for his assessment.
This time, things would be different. My Wife's Boss Was Me All Along
Billionaires "Mike, something urgent came up at Innovate. I can't make the Thanksgiving Gala tonight."
My wife Jessica's voice was crisp, businesslike, citing an emergency only her CEO role could handle.
I sighed, but promised my daughter Lily we'd still go, despite her mom's absence.
But at the glittering school gymnasium, my stomach dropped.
There was Jessica on stage, radiant and laughing, beside her old college sweetheart, David Carter, and his son Kevin – a picture-perfect family.
She spoke of "family values" while sharing a warm, knowing smile with David.
Then Lily whispered, "Daddy, why is Mommy with Mr. Carter?"
My heart twisted.
I walked up to the microphone, intending to expose the truth.
But when I asked, "Since when did you have another son? And, more importantly, does your actual husband know about this cozy arrangement?", Jessica grabbed David's hand, flaunting their affair.
The crowd, instead of being outraged, applauded them, sneering at me and calling me a "loser" and "gold-digger."
My own wife disowned me, threatening defamation lawsuits.
Then, David's son shoved Lily, sending her sprawling, knees bleeding.
Jessica just ignored it, dismissing her own daughter's pain, while David threw money at my feet, telling me to "scram."
As onlookers smirked, Lily looked at me, tears streaming.
"Dad," she choked, "you were right. I don't have a mom anymore."
My daughter's broken whisper solidified a cold resolve.
This public humiliation, this betrayal, this sickening display had to end.
They mocked my "empty threats" when I calmly announced the severance of contracts with their businesses, having no clue that I, Michael Thompson, was the discreet majority owner of Starlight Capital.
The private equity firm that owned Innovate Solutions.
My silent fury built, awaiting the perfect moment.
And tonight, that moment arrived.
The game was about to change. Not My Kids, Not My Life
Modern Michael Thompson, a shell of a man at 58, lay dying in a sterile nursing home bed.
His wife, Brenda, had passed a year prior, but her final words were still a fresh wound.
"Michael," she' d whispered with a chilling, triumphant smile, "The children… David and Sarah… they' re not yours."
"They' re Rick' s. It was always Rick."
His rival, the man he despised, the one she supposedly hated with him.
His entire life, every sacrifice for their family, every dream deferred, was a cruel, elaborate lie.
He' d given everything, only to be drained emotionally and financially by the woman he loved.
After her funeral, the children he' d raised had swiftly and efficiently stripped him of his assets, leaving him abandoned in this desolate place.
Deep regret, a bitter acid, burned in his chest.
If only he could go back, know then what he knew now.
His last, ragged breath escaped into the silence of the room, followed by darkness.
Then, a jarring burst of music blared.
"Never Gonna Give You Up" by Rick Astley.
His eyes snapped open.
This wasn't the nursing home.
He sat on a worn vinyl couch, the familiar smell of coffee and exhaust fumes filling the air.
His hands were strong, unblemished by age.
A calendar on the wall screamed June 1988.
He was young.
He was back.
And then Brenda walked in, her deceptive sweetness a sharp contrast to the calculating gleam in her eyes.
She spoke of the GM position, his promotion, and how he should withdraw for Rick.
But this time, he knew everything.
He had a chance to rewrite his fate. The Savior They Scorned
Sci-fi After three grueling years fighting the Crimson Flu, using my own blood to create the vaccine that saved millions, I was finally home.
Dr. Peterson from HHS was with me, ready to present my Presidential Medal of Freedom.
All I wanted was to hold my wife, Sarah, and tell her the nightmare was over.
But as I stepped out of the car, Sarah stood on the porch, her eyes wide with terror, not joy.
Then my brother Mark emerged, cradling a hunting rifle, my parents cowering behind him.
"You're infected!" my father yelled. "Stay back!"
Before I could protest my immunity, my gaze fixed on Sarah' s visibly round stomach.
Three years gone. It wasn' t my child.
Mark smirked, "It' s mine."
The world imploded. My own family, the people I fought and bled for, now saw me as a plague.
They gave me two options: banishment to a brutal wilderness or slow death in a rat-infested jail.
Mark, fueled by malice, sedated me, framed me as an aggressive superspreader, and convinced the entire town to burn me alive.
The acrid smell of kerosene mingled with my profound shock and disbelief.
How could they be so blind, so callous? So easily manipulated?
My sacrifice, my heroism, meant nothing.
Just as Mark raised a lit torch, sirens screamed.
Dr. Peterson, bewildered, stepped out of a government SUV, holding a gleaming medal.
"This," he boomed, "is for Alex Miller. His unique antibodies saved millions!"
The mob froze. Mark, in a fit of rage, accidentally shattered a vial of aggressive live virus, splattering himself, my parents, and Sarah.
As they began to sicken, I pulled out my phone, playing Mark' s own self-righteous words back to him.
"You have a choice, Mark. The ranger station, or the jail. For the good of the community."
I walked away. I didn't look back.
My family reaped what they sowed.
My true purpose, my freedom, lay beyond this hateful town. The Report That Broke Us
Modern Four months pregnant, I was floating on cloud nine. My husband, David, held my hand as we walked into Dr. Peterson' s office. Today was the day for our baby' s genetic screening results – a joyful formality, we thought, confirming our perfect future.
But the moment David scanned the detailed report, his happy face shattered. It drained of color, twisting into a mask of pure terror and bitter revulsion. "You need to have an abortion," he choked out, his voice utterly unrecognizable, fixed on the sterile pages.
My own parents arrived, their expressions mirroring David' s grotesque horror. Without explanation, they drugged me, dragged me to a remote cabin, and forced a "medically induced miscarriage." I awoke weeks later in a high-end mental institution, labeled hysterical, my baby gone, my spirit utterly crushed. I had died there, surrounded by silence and indifference.
What unspeakable secret was on that paper? What could turn my loving husband and doting parents into monsters who condemned me and my unborn child with such shocking cruelty? The betrayal was a wound deeper than any physical pain, leaving me with a burning, desperate question.
Then, I gasped awake, clutching my pregnant belly. It hadn't happened yet. It was a premonition, a horrific, vivid nightmare. This time, I wouldn't be a passive victim. This time, I would get that report first. And this time, I would fight like hell. Her Love, My Transaction
Modern At twenty-two, an MIT scholarship paved my road to becoming an architect, building a future I could almost touch.
But life had other plans, suddenly derailed by a devastating call: Maya, my kid sister, was diagnosed with aggressive leukemia.
The medical bills were astronomical, an impossible weight on my already broken family.
My father, crushed by his own demons, offered a desperate lifeline: a "favor" from the powerful Jonathan Hayes.
It wasn't charity; it was a dark bargain.
My freedom, my dreams, my very self, traded for Maya's life.
I became Scarlett Hayes’ personal assistant – her shadow, her keeper, her disposable "toy."
For five soul-crushing years, I endured her every capricious whim, her tantrums, and her casual, dehumanizing ownership of my time, my body, my dignity.
She never asked; she simply took.
And I, trapped, let her.
Each forced compliance fueled a festering resentment, a cold, hard knot of self-loathing in my gut.
My life, my aspirations, melted like ash, yet I persisted, for Maya.
How had I, Liam Walker, destined for blueprints and ambition, become this hollow phantom, a silent fixture in a gilded cage?
How had my world twisted into this soulless transaction, my very being reduced to a commodity?
The humiliation was suffocating, the injustice a constant scream within me.
Was I truly beyond redemption, or could I ever escape this nightmare?
Then, the news that shifted my universe: Maya was in remission.
The immediate burden lifted, and in that exhale of relief, the years of festering rage, the profound self-disgust, and the silent compliance hardened into an unyielding resolve.
I was done being her plaything.
Liam Walker was taking his life back, no matter the cost. You might like
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. SCORNED EX WIFE : Queen Of Ashes
Annypen Camille Lewis was the forgotten daughter, the unloved wife, the woman discarded like yesterday's news. Betrayed by her husband, cast aside by her own family, and left for dead by the sister who stole everything, she vanished without a trace.
But the weak, naive Camille died the night her car was forced off that bridge.
A year later, she returns as Camille Kane, richer, colder, and more powerful than anyone could have imagined. Armed with wealth, intelligence, and a hunger for vengeance, she is no longer the woman they once trampled on. She is the storm that will tear their world apart.
Her ex-husband begs for forgiveness. Her sister's perfect life crumbles. Her parents regret the daughter they cast aside. But Camille didn't come back for apologies, she came back to watch them burn.
But as her enemies fall at her feet, one question remains: when the revenge is over, what's left?
A mysterious trillionaire Alexander Pierce steps into her path, offering something she thought she lost forever, a future. But can a woman built on ashes learn to love again?
She rose from the fire to destroy those who betrayed her. Now, she must decide if she'll rule alone... or let someone melt the ice in her heart.
Craving The Wrong Brother
Elysian Sparrow She spent ten years chasing after the right brother, only to fall for the wrong one in one weekend.
~~~
Sloane Mercer has been hopelessly in love with her best friend, Finn Hartley, since college. For ten long years, she's stood by him, stitching him back together every time Delilah Crestfield-his toxic on-and-off girlfriend-shattered his heart.
But when Delilah gets engaged to another man, Sloane thinks this might finally be her chance to have Finn for herself. She couldn't be more wrong.
Heartbroken and desperate, Finn decides to crash Delilah's wedding and fight for her one last time. And he wants Sloane by his side.
Reluctantly, Sloane follows him to Asheville, hoping that being close to Finn will somehow make him see her the way she's always seen him.
Everything changes when she meets Knox Hartley, Finn's older brother-a man who couldn't be more different from Finn. He's dangerously magnetic. Knox sees right through Sloane and makes it his mission to pull her into his world.
What starts as a game-a twisted bet between them-soon turns into something deeper. Sloane is trapped between two brothers: one who's always broken her heart and another who seems hell-bent on claiming it... no matter the cost.
CONTENT WARNING:
This story is strongly 18+.
It delves into dark romance themes such as obsession and lust with morally complex characters.
While this is a love story, reader discretion is advised.
Marrying My Runaway Groom's Powerful Father
Temple Madison I was sitting in the Presidential Suite of The Pierre, wearing a Vera Wang gown worth more than most people earn in a decade. It was supposed to be the wedding of the century, the final move to merge two of Manhattan's most powerful empires.
Then my phone buzzed. It was an Instagram Story from my fiancé, Jameson. He was at Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris with a caption that read: "Fuck the chains. Chasing freedom." He hadn't just gotten cold feet; he had abandoned me at the altar to run across the world.
My father didn't come in to comfort me. He burst through the door roaring about a lost acquisition deal, telling me the Holland Group would strip our family for parts if the ceremony didn't happen by noon. My stepmother wailed about us becoming the laughingstock of the Upper East Side. The Holland PR director even suggested I fake a "panic attack" to make myself look weak and sympathetic to save their stock price. Then Jameson’s sleazy cousin, Pierce, walked in with a lopsided grin, offering to "step in" and marry me just to get his hands on my assets.
I looked at them and realized I wasn't a daughter or a bride to anyone in that room. I was a failed asset, a bouncing check, a girl whose own father told her to go to Paris and "beg" the man who had just publicly humiliated her.
The girl who wanted to be loved died in that mirror. I realized that if I was going to be sold to save a merger, I was going to sell myself to the one who actually controlled the money.
I marched past my parents and walked straight into the VIP holding room. I looked the most powerful man in the room—Jameson’s cold, ruthless uncle, Fletcher Holland—dead in the eye and threw the iPad on the table.
"Jameson is gone," I said, my voice as hard as stone. "Marry me instead." The Sterling Scandal: Married To The Uncle
C.D I was at my own engagement party at the Sterling estate when the world started tilting. Victoria Sterling, my future mother-in-law, smiled coldly as she watched me struggle with a cup of tea that had been drugged to ruin me.
Before I could find my fiancé, Ryan, a waiter dragged me into the forbidden West Wing and locked me in a room with Julian Sterling, the family’s "fallen titan" who had been confined to a wheelchair for years.
The door burst open to a frenzy of camera flashes and theatrical screams. Victoria framed me as a seductress caught in the act, and Ryan didn't even try to listen to my pleas, calling me "cheap leftovers" before walking away with his pregnant mistress. When I turned to my own family for help, my father signed a document severing our relationship for a five-million-dollar payout from Julian. They traded me like a commodity without a second thought.
I didn't understand why my own parents were so eager to sell me, or how Ryan could look at me with such disgust after promising me forever. I was a sacrifice, a pawn used to protect the family's offshore accounts, and I couldn't fathom how every person I loved had a price tag for my destruction.
With nowhere left to go, I married Julian in a bleak ceremony at City Hall. He slid a heavy diamond onto my finger and whispered, "We have a war to start." That night, inside his secret penthouse, I watched the paralyzed man stand up from his wheelchair and activate a screen filled with the Sterling family's darkest secrets. The execution had officially begun. A Divorce He Regrets
Alissa Nexus The day Raina gave birth should have been the happiest of her life. Instead, it became her worst nightmare. Moments after delivering their twins, Alexander shattered her heart-divorcing her and forcing her to sign away custody of their son, Liam. With nothing but betrayal and heartbreak to her name, Raina disappeared, raising their daughter, Ava, on her own.Years later, fate comes knocking when Liam falls gravely ill. Desperate to save his son, Alexander is forced to seek out the one person he once cast aside. Alexander finds himself face to face with the woman he underestimated, pleading for a second chance-not just for himself, but for their son. But Raina is no longer the same broken woman who once loved him.No longer the woman he left behind. She has carved out a new life-one built on strength, wealth, and a long-buried legacy she expected to uncover.Raina has spent years learning to live without him.The question is... Will she risk reopening old wounds to save the son she never got to love? or has Alexander lost her forever? 
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