Culprit
10 Published Stories
Culprit's Books and Stories
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 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. 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
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, 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. Pampered By The Cold Mind Reading Tycoon
Hen Bu I woke up from a coma in the hospital, universally condemned as the vicious daughter who pushed the beloved fake heiress, Georgina, down the stairs.
My ruthless billionaire brother, Angelo, stood over my bed with cold eyes, ready to destroy me for hurting his precious sister.
But as I looked at him, a terrifying prophecy from my coma flooded my brain. Our entire family was doomed.
In the original timeline, Georgina would team up with corporate rivals to bankrupt the company, frame Angelo, and send him to federal prison, while our parents would abandon me to die miserably.
Lying there, I didn't dare speak. I just desperately cursed my idiot brother in my head.
"This stupid brother is still yelling at me for that fake heiress. He doesn't even know he's going to be framed and sent to prison next month!"
I just wanted to stay quiet, let them ruin themselves, and run away from this toxic family.
But strangely, Angelo didn't strangle me. Instead, his attitude took a shocking turn.
He abruptly fired the driver plotting to kill him, destroyed the abusive fiancé of a family ally, and publicly humiliated Georgina at a high-society gala.
He even shielded me from our abusive parents, declaring to the world that I was the only sister he would ever protect.
I was completely terrified and confused. Why was the tyrant brother suddenly acting like a protective beast?
It wasn't until he flawlessly crushed a massive corporate attack using the exact financial secrets I had just complained about in my mind that a horrifying realization hit me.
He could hear my inner thoughts! 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. Bought The Billionaire For One Night
Cait A week before my wedding, I went to the airport parking garage to surprise my fiancé with a luxury watch.
Instead, I caught him having sex in his car with my best friend and maid of honor.
Devastated and desperate to forget, I went to an exclusive club and blew my $50,000 trust fund to buy a one-night stand with a gorgeous stranger.
But the nightmare was just beginning.
At work, my cheating best friend stole my hard-earned promotion, and my ex shamelessly defended her.
Worse, the escort I had paid for sex turned out to be the ruthless new CEO of my airline.
He tormented me on a flight to Paris. When I was robbed of my passport and wallet on the freezing streets, he forced me to be his gala date just to get my life back.
But the ultimate trap was waiting for me in New York.
A secretly taken photo of me leaving the CEO's penthouse leaked on the company forum.
"I knew she got that Paris trip for a reason."
My ex and my former best friend led the charge in the comments, framing me as a shameless gold digger who slept her way to the top.
I was stripped of my flying credentials, suspended from the job I loved, and publicly humiliated.
I didn't understand why the CEO was playing these cruel games, or who had orchestrated this perfect trap to ruin my life.
Standing outside the airport with my career in ashes, I realized crying wouldn't save me.
I wiped my tears, accepted my mother's invitation to a high-society mixer, and prepared to make everyone who set me up pay the price. 
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