Culprit
11 Published Stories
Culprit's Books and Stories
Her Vengeance Rises From The Asylum
Modern I walked into the luxury boutique on Fifth Avenue, the air conditioning chilling my skin.
There she was-Alivia, my adopted sister-swiping my husband' s Black Card for her wedding dress.
Three years ago, she tampered with the neonatal equipment during my home birth, suffocating my newborn son.
Then she told everyone I was a drug addict who killed my own baby in a hallucination.
My husband, Carter, didn't just believe her; he locked me in a high-security psychiatric facility in Nevada to "fix" me.
For three years, I rotted in isolation while she took my life, my husband, and paraded a child that wasn't even his as the Fletcher heir.
Even my parents sided with her, protecting their image over their own daughter's sanity.
They think I' m still the fragile socialite who would crumble under their gaslighting.
They think I' m here to beg for forgiveness.
I pulled a silver flash drive from my clutch and stepped into the light.
"Shopping for a wedding dress, Alivia?" I whispered, my voice cutting through her laughter.
"I hope it goes well with the forensic report proving you murdered my son."
The game is over, Carter.
I' m not here to reconcile.
I' m here to burn your empire to the ground. Surprise Twins for the Hockey Prince
Romance At my luxurious bridal shower, I thought I was the luckiest woman alive.
But when I stepped away for some air, I overheard my fiancé and my best friend intimately discussing their affair.
They were plotting to murder me.
"Once the wedding is over, everything that belonged to the Sloans will be ours. Just tolerate the naive little fool for a little longer."
They even admitted they had arranged the fatal car crash that killed my parents to bankrupt my family's company.
When I furiously confronted them, my best friend shoved me hard against a heavy oak desk.
Bleeding and losing consciousness, I heard my fiancé panic, but my best friend was terrifyingly calm.
"This just saves us the trouble of arranging an accident. We have to get rid of the body."
They tied me up, dragged me onto a private yacht, and hurled me alive into the freezing Atlantic Ocean.
Sinking into the suffocating black water, my heart was consumed by an icy hatred.
I had given them my entire heart, yet they murdered my parents, stole my legacy, and threw me away like trash.
But I didn't die.
Five years later, I returned to New York with my twins and a new identity.
Looking at the terrified faces of my ex-fiancé and former best friend in the parking garage, I smiled coldly.
"I'm here to take back what's mine." The Jilted Heiress And Her Protector
Romance I am the sole heir to the Beaumont empire, engaged to Julian for three years to secure our families' alliance.
But on the night of my 24th birthday, he left me waiting at a crowded bar for three hours. I called him twelve times, and he ignored every single one.
The next day, he claimed he was busy saving his ex-girlfriend, Abby, from an eviction. He promised to make it up to me at my wedding dress fitting. Yet, right before I stepped out in my gown, he ran off again. He even outsourced accompanying me to buy our wedding rings to my father's imposing Chief Operating Officer, Alex.
When my friend sent me a live video from a nightclub, I realized the humiliating truth. Julian had abandoned me at the bridal shop to get into a bloody street brawl over Abby. Even after I rushed to the club and used my family name to save him from being arrested, he still hesitated when his ex-girlfriend grabbed his arm.
"Julian, please don't leave me."
Hearing Abby's manufactured cries, he chose to stay by her side instead of following me. I stared at his bloody knuckles in pure, unfiltered disgust. Why was I ruining my pride for a man who constantly put another woman first?
Without looking back, I walked out of the club and got straight into Alex's waiting car. This time, I am canceling the wedding. Reborn To Swap Husbands With My Sister
Fantasy The sensation of falling wasn't like flying; it was heavy, violent, and smelled of burning flesh. Above us, on the crumbling balcony of the Sears manor, Duke Cato Sears turned his back, shielding his cousin Bianca from the smoke as he walked away, leaving my sister Blossom and me to drop into the abyss.
As the darkness slammed shut like an iron door, I realized my entire life had been a cruel script written by the people I called family.
In my first life, I was the sacrificial lamb of the Dawson manor, sold to a man who eventually watched me die without blinking. My sister Blossom had pushed me into Cato's arms to avoid his rumors, only to laugh when the fire finally consumed us both. My father had measured my value like a piece of livestock, and my step-grandmother didn't even acknowledge my existence while I was being led to the slaughter.
I died in that fire, feeling the heat scorch my skin and the weight of a hatred so potent it tasted like bile. I spent twenty years being the weak, manipulated shadow of a girl, only to end up as nothing more than a phantom scorch mark on a "hero's" estate.
I couldn't understand why my own blood treated my life like a game they could discard. The injustice of it all burned hotter than the flames that took my last breath.
Then, I sat up, sucking in air that tasted of lavender and air conditioning, not smoke. I was back in my bedroom, three days before the engagement ball that ruined my life. Blossom stood at the door, her "sweet" mask slipping as she tried to manipulate me into the Duke's path again.
She thought she was the only one who had come back, but she didn't realize that this time, I was going to let her have exactly what she wanted: the Duke, the bankruptcy, and the living hell that awaited her in that house. Her Smile, My Burning Hell
Fantasy The new penthouse apartment, meant to be a monument to our future, felt like a tomb.
In my hand, a medical report confirmed my fiancée Chloe' s secret lover, Liam O' Connell, was dying from a highly contagious, deadly illness.
A brutal memory tore through me: In my last life, my fury over this same betrayal led to Liam's accidental death. Chloe, consumed by grief, retaliated by orchestrating a fiery car crash that killed my parents and me.
I still smelled the gasoline, heard my mother' s screams, watched her smiling face as we burned.
How could this be happening again? I was back, at the very same moment, holding the very same report.
This time, I wouldn't scream. I wouldn't rage. I would simply shred the proof and let nature take its course. Justice would be cold, patient, and meticulously planned.
My phone rang. It was Chloe, her voice sharp and demanding about a declined credit card. Then, she uttered a chilling phrase: "Is this about Liam? Are you really going to be this pathetic? I thought we were past you trying to use his health to ruin my life."
My blood ran cold. She knew. She remembered. She was reborn too.
This wasn't just a breakup. This was war, and she had just made the first move. Broken But Back: My Sweet Vengeance
Modern My life was a carefully built sanctuary, a thriving business, a loving home with the man I adored, Mark, and my best friend, Jessica, by my side.
Then, a phone call, sharp and unwelcome, shattered it all-a memory from a past life I wasn't supposed to recall.
In that nightmare, Mark and Jessica weren't my allies; they were parasites. They drained my company, forged my signature, cooked the books, leaving me with a mountain of debt. My parents, heartbroken, wasted away. I was left with nothing but betrayal, ultimately sold to a loan shark, my legs brutally broken, my life extinguished in a dark, cold basement.
How could the two people I trusted most harbor such bottomless greed, such a complete lack of soul? Why would they meticulously plot to destroy the very person who had given them everything?
But I remember it all now, every cruel word, every calculating glance. This time, I' m back, and the debt won' t be mine. The Price of Humiliation: Ava's Return
Modern I was eight months pregnant, standing frozen at a street festival when the ground shook violently.
A piece of scaffolding broke loose, tumbling straight towards me.
My fiancé, Liam, was just feet away, but he lunged, not for me, but for his young intern, Chloe, shielding her from the debris.
I watched him go, then felt a sharp, blinding pain and a warm gush as my water broke.
His eyes found me then, twisted not with fear, but with disgust, as he muttered, "That's so embarrassing!" before pulling Chloe away, leaving me to collapse on the pavement.
Seven days later, I was discharged from the hospital; the baby was gone.
Back home, I opened a package meant for Chloe, inside was a positive pregnancy test; two different stories, one of life, one of death.
Liam acted annoyed by my absence, reeking of cheap perfume and sporting Chloe' s lipstick on his collar.
He offered a vile apology: he left me because it "would have been humiliating" for him if people saw his fiancée "pissing herself in public."
He thought I'd wet myself from fear, not from a devastating injury.
His phone buzzed with Chloe's custom ringtone, her giggling voice, "Boss, you have a call!"
Then I saw Chloe's Instagram picture from his office, her legs on his desk, captioned: "I just love making the boss smile. Wonder what he'd do if I ever left?"
Liam had already liked it, replying, "Don't you dare! He'd have to track you down and handcuff you to your desk!"
They were mocking me, celebrating my pain.
My hand trembled, but my voice was steady as I dialed our wedding venue to cancel everything.
I packed my last bag, leaving the life I thought I had behind.
I' m done being his architect, his model, his forgotten fiancée. This time, I' m building my own empire. The Unwanted Wife's Billion-Dollar Comeback
Billionaires My phone's blue glow pierced the dark nursery at 3 AM. Our son, Leo, slept peacefully, while I, on maternity leave, was scrolling LinkedIn. Recovery and bonding were the goals, but instead, I found betrayal.
That' s when I saw it: A post from my husband, Ethan Reed, CEO of Nexus. He was smiling beside Chloe Jensen, a young MBA intern. The caption announced Chloe was taking the lead on Project Chimera – my revolutionary AI, the project I' d spent three years building from scratch. My baby, almost as much as Leo.
My numb fingers typed a text: "What the hell is this LinkedIn post?" Ethan' s dismissive reply was instant: "It's 3 AM, Kat. You' re emotional, it' s the postpartum stuff. Get some rest. For Leo." He was gaslighting me, twisting my health and our son against me. He just handed my life's work to an intern.
The cold, sharp anger that flooded me wasn't about tears; it was about clarity. He thought I was weak, sidelined by motherhood. He thought I'd just let him replace me with a twenty-four-year-old.
He was dead wrong. I deleted his message. My next call wasn't to him, but to Mark Strahan, the EVP of Global Logistics at AmeriCorp. "There have been unforeseen technical leadership changes on Project Chimera," I calmly stated, knowing the nine-figure deal would now grind to a halt. This was war, and I was just getting started. The Midas Touch Betrayal
Fantasy My Midas Touch wasn't just a gift; it was my life's foundation, turning my husband, Ethan, into Bishop Consolidated's CEO in three short years.
We had it all: a grand estate, a perfect marriage, and a secret I cherished-the tiny life growing within me, our future.
Then I heard them.
Ethan's urgent voice, Dr. Finch's chilling reply.
They planned to transfer my unique gift to Seraphina Vance, Ethan' s old flame.
The condition?
"No living descendants for the Midas Touch to anchor." My unborn child.
Ethan was trading our baby for ambition.
He held my mother hostage, forcing me into agonizing "donations" that drained not just my power, but my emotions, leaving me a blank slate.
Seraphina, vibrant with stolen energy, gloated.
On the third day, the final injection came, a clear liquid from Ethan himself. A tearing pain. My baby was gone.
How could the man I loved, the father of my child, orchestrate such cold, calculated cruelty? The betrayal was absolute, the grief a silent scream trapped within a body now devoid of feeling.
But as darkness consumed me amidst the flames engulfing my wing, one flicker remained: the will to survive, to ensure they reaped what they sowed.
I made one call. It was time for a different kind of gold. No Longer Your Errand Girl
Billionaires My life was a constant payment, a humiliating exchange for my sister Chloe's next breath.
Julian Vance owned me, casually tossing wads of cash that paid Chloe's astronomical medical bills, but bought him the right to my endless compliance.
He'd send me on midnight errands miles away after I'd nearly collapsed from a health crisis he ignored, or force me to decorate a rooftop in a blizzard while I was still sick, leaving me to freeze.
His girlfriend Tiffany delighted in tormenting me, once orchestrating a salon "makeover" that involved a chemical burn to my scalp, ruining my hair, while Julian dismissed my agony for "a little tingle."
They even projected a montage of my most vulnerable, humiliating moments at a crowded public gala, expecting my total breakdown.
But something shifted when Chloe's final, critical surgery bill was finally paid; the humiliation wasn't a payment anymore, it was just... noise.
When Julian, seeing my chilling indifference instead of tears, dragged me home in a fury, I knew my obligation was met, and a cold resolve quietly set in.
The next morning, after Tiffany tried to frame me with a fake allergic reaction, I calmly looked at Julian, devoid of fear or defense, and simply said, "I'm leaving. For good."
He was stunned, convinced I was playing a game for more money or attention, but then he saw the truth on the security footage: Tiffany's setup, my quiet endurance, his own casual cruelty.
He chased me to my small, forgotten hometown, offering apologies, money, even marriage, desperate to reclaim his 'possession'.
But standing before him, I poured out years of suppressed revulsion, detailing every humiliation he inflicted, and when the words were too much, my body reacted instinctively, violently expelling the lingering poison of his presence.
I was finally free, leaving his gilded cage for the comforting scent of fresh bread in my own small bakery, while Julian remained trapped, forever misunderstanding what he had truly lost. You might like
The Unwanted Wife's Genius Comeback
Gertrude I flew cross-country for my birthday, hoping for just one night of warmth with my husband and five-year-old daughter.
But when I opened the door, I found my famous hockey star husband and my daughter acting like the perfect family with Dayna, a glamorous sports commentator.
My daughter shrank away from my open arms.
"Mama's boring. She never plays with me. Don't go, Auntie Dayna!"
My husband didn't even look up from his phone to wish me a happy birthday.
He coldly canceled our dinner plans, claiming he had an urgent, last-minute strategy meeting for his team.
Hours later, a TMZ article popped up on my phone, featuring a brutal photo of the three of them sharing a steak at an upscale Manhattan restaurant.
The headline praised Blake's "family dinner with rumored flame Dayna Nixon" and openly wondered where the current Mrs. Carlisle was.
My daughter lied for this, and my husband publicly humiliated me, treating my five years of silent sacrifice like a pathetic, disposable joke.
I didn't cry, and I didn't throw a desperate fit.
Instead, I calmly walked into his study, signed the pre-nuptial divorce agreement he had prepared years ago, and booked a one-way ticket back to Boston.
From now on, I am no longer Mrs. Carlisle. I am Corinne Sargent, and I am taking my life back. 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?" 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. Secretly Extraordinary: I'm The Crown Jewel You Failed To Treasure
Anemic Sun For three years, Allison poured herself into marriage, caring for Henry and their home while he gave her nothing but silence.
When his first love returned, he handed her divorce papers and cast her aside.
Heartbroken, Allison walked away and reclaimed the brilliant life she had buried-becoming a famed jewelry designer, restoration master, and mysterious healer.
Only then did everyone learn Henry's unwanted wife was a hidden genius.
Late one night, he called, begging for another chance.
Before she could answer, a male voice spoke. "Allison, who's that?"
Allison answered aloofly, "Just a scammer." Jilted Heiress: Marrying The Untouchable Tycoon
Piao Guo Allison Montgomery was waiting at the airport when an audio alert from her parked Range Rover flashed on her phone.
Assuming it was a break-in, she checked the live dashcam feed, only to see her fiancé, Finn, and her younger sister, Cheyanne, passionately making out in the backseat.
"Tell me I'm better than her," Cheyanne whispered. "Tell me I'm better than Allison."
"You are," Finn gasped. "God, you are."
When Allison confronted her family with the video, she expected justice.
Instead, her uncle and mother fiercely defended the cheaters.
They blamed Allison's "cold and frigid" nature for pushing Finn away, victim-blaming her in front of the entire household staff.
To protect their corporate alliance, her uncle ruthlessly announced that the engagement would be transferred to Cheyanne, and threatened to strip Allison of her inheritance.
Stripped of her fiancé, her family, and her dignity, Allison realized her pristine twenty-year life was a complete lie.
The people who were supposed to love her were actively protecting her abusers, leaving her utterly isolated and burning with a cold, protective rage.
Refusing to be their victim, Allison targeted Finn's ruthless, billionaire uncle, Adam Kensington, proposing a fake marriage to secure the capital needed to crush her family.
But when the notoriously untouchable Wall Street phantom not only accepted her proposal, but demanded she immediately move into his penthouse to raise his secret daughter, Allison realized she had just sold her soul to the devil. His Unwanted Wife, The Hidden Genius
Qing Cheng I flew back to New York on my twenty-fifth birthday, carrying vintage gold cufflinks I spent weeks finding for my billionaire husband, Declan.
But when I walked into our townhouse, I found him throwing a massive victory party with Sloane, a glamorous socialite, standing by his side as the proud hostess.
"Don't cause a scene. Go upstairs."
Declan coldly dismissed me in front of his guests.
Even Poppy, the rookie player whose shattered ankle I had painstakingly rebuilt, rolled her eyes and ignored me to suck up to Sloane.
Hiding in the shadows, I heard the maids gossiping that everyone thought Sloane was the future Mrs. Hartford.
To make matters worse, I discovered Sloane had stolen my anonymous, groundbreaking medical algorithm and was planning to present it as her own.
First my husband, then the girl I mentored like family, and now the scientific foundation I had built with my own hands.
Declan even texted me to cancel our birthday breakfast without a single apology, treating me like an annoying afterthought.
My tears vanished, replaced by a freezing clarity.
I signed the divorce papers, leaving them on his desk with zero demands for his money.
Then I packed my bags, booked a one-way ticket to Boston, and prepared to destroy them on the global stage. Betrayed Bride: Marrying The Ice Tyrant
Valeria On our third engagement anniversary, I bought my fiancé the watch he had wanted for months.
But my phone's location tracker led me to a secluded overlook, where I caught him rocking his car with another woman.
The woman in the passenger seat was my stepsister, Sienna.
When I exposed their affair, my adoptive parents didn't comfort me.
Instead, they called to scream at me for ruining the family's reputation.
They even rewrote history, claiming Sienna was the one who saved my fiancé from drowning six years ago, and I had stolen her credit.
Carter shamelessly agreed with their lies.
"She's been quietly supporting me all this time... I misunderstood."
I was disowned, thrown out into the freezing rain, and my adoptive father threatened to use his corporate empire to crush my small bakery.
I finally understood that to them, I was just a temporary placeholder, a stepping stone for Sienna to take everything I cherished whenever she pleased.
I refused to let them destroy me.
To protect my bakery and tear down their hypocritical lives, I walked into the penthouse of New York's most ruthless billionaire to propose a fake PR relationship.
But he slid a two-year marriage contract across the table instead.
Before I could fully process marrying a man I barely knew, a little blonde girl ran into the room and tugged at my dress.
"Are you my new mommy?" 
/1/101581/coverorgin.jpg?v=1558c064e4e60287b2acad38ebf8dab4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/126845/coverorgin.jpg?v=9729249aac66f5be42c6280de66d5d04&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/115892/coverorgin.jpg?v=9be1a8d95f502a0f5cb84f1949d85b61&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/109587/coverorgin.jpg?v=cc9e778919a2cc06f1e69fefc06028da&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/86242/coverorgin.jpg?v=9c19a18ccc6b4cd62517edd43b0bd88c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/85392/coverorgin.jpg?v=fdbcda506b5c6f884023801fe82acf27&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/83677/coverorgin.jpg?v=f27bc1bd5a95490c3e93ff6d55a42450&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/83461/coverorgin.jpg?v=63fcd513f5ce1144e6c7b66c89d4014d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/82698/coverorgin.jpg?v=933def7c616ed1ac539160553655b08f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/80849/coverorgin.jpg?v=07636550f5c61f8824e91ed48b8ec66e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/61880/coverorgin.jpg?v=539a5f53160cb05d81e9ac4e1f899ab1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/125337/coverorgin.jpg?v=50a9df71485c978a800e593ea5c5ce53&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/112008/coverorgin.jpg?v=2b0abcab944971bf058c4d3da02bb538&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/126405/coverorgin.jpg?v=4e360683e2f74626e2c5eb9fc8e756f4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/114901/coverorgin.jpg?v=20006cfc4521987e716c05971553339f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/113362/coverorgin.jpg?v=5efb20621f255e262e29bdba5df38f3b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/118195/coverorgin.jpg?v=f2f88fb7fa5b66441b79a31b89066519&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/116591/coverorgin.jpg?v=d4d7816fdc6be84bc120aedc3892ebd5&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/127579/coverorgin.jpg?v=2ea34f2e2c2f3053a637d5acfe2fbf25&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/125302/coverorgin.jpg?v=be568e5403aea3d772380fafb20dcf3a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/116729/coverorgin.jpg?v=42f9f39690a22809df88aa08d304e9ab&imageMogr2/format/webp)