Cun Li
14 Published Stories
Cun Li's Books and Stories
Discarded Love, The Reaper's Regret
Mafia My husband, Dante Moretti, the feared Underboss, signed the divorce papers I slipped him without a glance. Too busy texting his true love, Sofia, he was blind to the annulment decree ending everything. The Reaper couldn't see the death of his own marriage.
For three years, I was Elena, his silent wife, the "Caged Canary," cleaning his messes while meticulously planning my escape from our loveless world.
He dismissed me for Sofia's every whim, publicly shaming me after a past love letter was read, then abandoning me again for her fake crisis.
That night, he violently shoved me against a wall, leaving me bleeding and concussed, rushing instead to protect Sofia. Discarded and injured, my invisible love became a weapon against me.
His crushing blindness, the cold realization I was a mere placeholder, fueled a profound injustice. How could he be so lethal, yet oblivious to his wife, favoring the one who betrayed him?
With chilling resolve, I uploaded Sofia's confession, initiated a massive financial transfer dismantling his empire, and staged my own death. Under a new identity, I fled to San Francisco, ready to build my power, far from his bloody, deceitful world. The Vanished Wife's Revenge: No Turning Back
Mafia My husband looked at the toxicology report proving the daughter of the Chicago Capo had poisoned my mother.
Then, without missing a beat, he looked me in the eye and asked if I wanted to discuss the dinner menu for the gala.
That was the moment I realized Dante Vitiello wasn't my savior; he was the devil in a bespoke suit.
To protect his precious alliance with Chicago, he buried the truth.
When my mother died from the arsenic, he didn't offer comfort. Instead, he forced me to sign annulment papers, claiming I was mentally unstable.
He stripped me of my title, my home, and my dignity to marry Sofia Moretti—the very woman who killed my mother—all because she claimed to be pregnant with his heir.
I stood in the freezing rain, watching a giant screen in Times Square as he proposed to her.
He told the press that Sofia was his hero, the one who saved his life during the ambush in Chicago.
He lied.
Under my soaked hoodie, the jagged scar on my arm throbbed. I was the one who took that bullet for him. I was the one who stitched myself up in silence so he wouldn't feel indebted to me.
He erased my sacrifice to build a throne for his mistress.
He thought he had broken me. He thought Elena Vitiello would fade away in a crumbling apartment in Queens.
But he forgot one thing: I was the one who built his encrypted laundering network. I held the keys to his entire empire.
I threw my wedding ring into the trash can and lit a match.
Elena Vitiello died that night.
And the woman who rose from the ashes didn't want his love anymore.
She wanted his ruin. The Alpha's Secret Heir and the Vanished Luna
Werewolf I was pregnant with the Alpha’s heir, yet Michael refused to Mark me, calling my concerns "hormonal" while he paraded another woman, Serena, as his future Luna.
The betrayal cut deep, but the breaking point came at the pack celebration.
Serena slapped me across the face in front of everyone, and instead of defending his pregnant mate, Michael looked bored and ordered me to stop making a scene.
That night, I didn't just leave; I ripped the mate bond out of my own mind.
The pain was blinding, but necessary.
With my mother's help, I faked my death—and the death of our unborn child—to escape his toxic hold.
For four years, I raised my son, Finn, on a hidden island, safe from the politics that nearly destroyed me.
I thought I was free, until a ragged, broken man washed up on my shore.
It was Michael.
He wasn't the arrogant King anymore; he was a beggar who had spent years mourning a ghost.
When he saw Finn, he fell to his knees, weeping at the sight of the boy who had his golden eyes.
"Is he mine?" he begged.
"He is mine," I told him coldly. "You lost him the day you chose her."
I prepared to send him away, but then the alarms rang.
Serena had found us, leading a rogue army to slaughter my son for dark magic.
Michael looked at me, his eyes clearing for the first time in years.
"I will be your shield," he vowed.
He ran straight into the silver blades, taking the death blow meant for our child.
As he died in my arms, I finally forgave him.
Now, I stand over his grave not as a victim, but as the Alpha Luna who will rule the world he left behind. My Fiancé's Ultimate Deception
Modern After seven years of devotion, I finally became pregnant with my fiancé Coleton's twins. But he secretly terminated the pregnancy, claiming it was for my health.
The real reason? His ex-girlfriend, Annis, suggested it.
He came to the hospital late, a fresh hickey on his neck, and instead of comforting me, he forced me to post a public apology to Annis for causing her "drama." He even used my phone to flirt with her, planning their dinner date right in front of me while I was still bleeding from the procedure he ordered.
When I refused to play along, he abandoned me at the hospital exit, causing me to fall and get a concussion. Later, I found them in our bed, and he had the audacity to invite me to their "celebratory" dinner.
"You're doing this for me, right?" he asked, a hopeful smile on his face. "So I can finally be happy with Annis?"
I looked at the man I had given my life to, the man who had just stolen our children from me, and saw a stranger. This time, there would be no tears, no second chances. I took the pre-nup he signed years ago-the one that gave me a huge chunk of his company if he ever betrayed me-and walked away for good. Love's Betrayal, Fortune's Irony
Modern I gave up my art scholarship to put my boyfriend, Armand, through law school. I worked three jobs and even took a knife for him, believing his promise that we would build an empire together.
But the day he became a star lawyer, I found him kissing his client, Cassandra, in the snow.
The shock caused a miscarriage. When I tried to end my life, he brought his mistress to my hospital bed to call me a lunatic.
He then used my family to blackmail me, forcing me to play the perfect wife while he flaunted his affair.
For years, I was his broken trophy, a testament to his power. He had the career I funded, the woman he chose, and complete control over my life.
But on the night his mistress held me at knifepoint on a skyscraper rooftop, she didn't kill me.
She turned and plunged the knife into Armand's chest instead.
And as his legal wife, I inherited everything. His Betrayal Created A Ruthless Queen
Billionaires My marriage ended the way the world found out about it: on a police report that landed on my desk. I was a prosecutor who had moved back to San Francisco to save my political marriage to tech billionaire Hilton Austin.
When I confronted him at the hotel, I found my husband on one knee, not proposing, but tenderly tying his influencer mistress' s shoe.
That night, he abandoned me on a dark highway to rush to her side, causing me to miscarry the child I was secretly carrying. At the hospital, he publicly accused me of faking the pregnancy, slapped me, and then cut my arm with a piece of broken glass.
"Now you have a reason to be in the hospital," he said coldly.
The love I' d held for him since I was sixteen didn't just fade; it was murdered. He thought he had broken me, but he only created a monster.
I used my family's power to have him thrown in jail. When he begged for a second chance, I brought in my childhood friend, Adrien, and delivered the final, killing blow.
"The baby wasn't yours," I said, my voice like ice. "It was his." My Life, His Deadly Design
Horror My life was a perfectly crafted blueprint of happiness. I was an architect, and my daughter, Lily, was my beautiful design.
Then Sophia came along, filling spaces I hadn't known were empty, and her angelic son, Lucas, instantly became Lily' s "best brother."
But on our first family camping trip, I found a horrifying collection: a dozen broken dolls, hair snipped, limbs twisted, eyes gouged out.
"Lucas said it's his collection," Lily whispered.
He smiled his innocent smile, claiming he "just found them and gave them a home," and Sophia rushed to his defense, completely blind.
Then Lily fell sick, a strange, spiderweb-like rash spreading across her body.
Lucas, the doting brother, sat by her hospital bed, winding a beautiful antique music box-his father' s, he said-filling the room with gentle melodies.
But when no one was watching, his sweet expression would vanish, replaced by a cold, detached curiosity as he stared at Lily' s fading form.
The day Lily died, that infernal music box was still playing.
Her death wasn't an accident; I saw the cold, unnerving stillness in Lucas' s eyes.
He had poisoned my daughter, enjoying every slow, agonizing moment.
My world was annihilated, consumed by grief and the chilling melody of that music box, until everything went black.
Then I gasped, eyes flying open, the scent of grilled burgers and fresh-cut grass in the air.
I was holding a velvet ring box, and Sophia was smiling, her voice full of love. "Yes, Ethan, I' ll marry you."
It was the day of our engagement party.
The day before the nightmare began.
And standing next to Sophia, holding her hand and beaming up at me, was Lucas, the monster hiding behind an angel' s face.
I was back. I had been given a second chance, and I would not waste it. A Sacrifice Rekindled
Fantasy The smell of smoke and burning wood woke me, my heart pounding. It was the same fire, the one that had consumed everything in my first life.
But this time, Kaelen was alive, his silver eyes narrowed, not in concern for me, but in a frantic search for Lyra.
He accused me of setting the blaze, demanding I save her with my own lifeblood, forcing the agonizing transfusion while she smirked, thriving on my pain and his blind devotion.
How could he believe her lies, even as I sacrificed everything, again and again, for the very life he now blamed me for saving?
Then, the memory hit me: Kaelen, dying in my past life, his last breath a bitter regret not for Lyra, but for me. This second chance wasn't just about saving him from fire, but from himself, from the painful, world-shattering regret that had haunted his dying eyes. The Wife They Buried: Now Watch Her Rise
Sci-fi My experimental cure for a degenerative neurological disease had a bizarre requirement: "positive emotional resonance."
Love was a luxury my family never afforded me.
My twin Jessica, my parents David and Linda, and even my husband Mark, bled me dry, taking credit for my genius.
The Phoenix Foundation announced my therapy was failing: seven days until my death.
Still, they demanded more.
Parents needed me to fix Jessica's buggy app for a funding round.
Mark required elaborate legal strategies for his career.
My talent, always theirs.
My head throbbed, my body failing, but they saw only annoyance, demanding I work.
Jessica feigned illness, then brazenly demanded IP rights to my groundbreaking app.
Mark, dismissing my imminent death as "dramatics," framed me for Jessica' s hit-and-run, securing my forced committal-a painful death sentence.
He even injected me with a lethal dose.
My ultimate betrayal came when Jessica brutally attacked me with shears, and Mark, seeing my bleeding face, still prioritized her comfort.
Lying there, bleeding and abandoned, a cold clarity dawned: they would never change.
My life, a relentless sacrifice, was ending in torment.
Why did they always break me, only to demand more?
But then, a whisper from the Foundation: "Protocol transition."
"Karmic Retribution Resonance."
Not death, but a second chance.
Not for love, but for their regret.
I would become Anna Hayes, an architect of their downfall, finally taking back what was mine. Her Ex, His Redemption
Romance I was the rock of InnovateATX, Bella's husband, the tech visionary who' d put his own startup on hold to support her dream.
Our Austin home, a life I helped design, was where I genuinely believed our future lay, despite the secret pact I' d made years ago with venture capitalist Olivia Hayes to neutralize Victor Cole, the man connected to my family' s ruin.
Then, Bella handed me divorce papers, declaring, "It was always him," nodding towards Victor, her resurrected college sweetheart.
Weeks blurred into public accusations – Bella siding with Victor, dismissing me as "moping" after a staged office "accident"- and private indignities, as she signed my resignation without a glance, calling my efforts a "drag."
She watched me clear out our home, deeming our shared memories "sentimental junk," and, as I stumbled through the wreckage of my life, coldly stated, "I don' t love you anymore."
Just when I thought it couldn't get worse, a truck swerved into my car, leaving me mangled and bleeding on a Hill Country highway.
Through my blurring vision, all I could see was Bella, rushing past my wreck to Victor' s less damaged Tesla, cradling him, utterly oblivious to me.
In that moment, the final, agonizing truth slammed into me: she truly felt nothing for me, the man she married, the man who had loved her.
The raw realization was more painful than any shattered bone.
Desperate, I fumbled for my phone and choked out Olivia' s name.
Her voice cut through the chaos, calm and cutting: "They can make you disappear, Ethan. Officially. A clean slate. A new life. If you want it."
Watching Bella's betrayal unfold, I whispered, "Yes. Do it."
As darkness consumed me, my old life ended, and a new one, colder, sharper, was born from the ashes. The Unwanted Wife's Unstoppable Rise
Romance For five years, I was the devoted rock for Mark, pouring my love, money, and unwavering support into his struggling tech startup, dreaming of our shared future.
Then, on April Fool's Day, a wedding invitation flashed on Instagram: Mark and Chloe.
His college crush.
Her smug caption, "#NotAJokeAnymore?", felt like a direct stab.
He'd hidden it.
That night, a drunken Mark called me Chloe, regretting he was "too broke" to pursue her.
His friend confirmed I was a convenient rebound.
Days later, I found Chloe in our apartment, wearing his shirt, who then gloatingly showed me their engagement photos – taken a month ago.
I blacked out.
Waking in the hospital, Mark brazenly offered a "solution": he' d keep me, his "wife," while managing Chloe.
Five years of devotion, reduced to a reliable appliance, while my prematurely white hair screamed the truth of his deceit.
But a notification for my expedited transfer to Europe was my lifeline.
I ripped out my IV, walked out, and never looked back.
Two years later, a frantic Chloe called: Mark was gravely ill, delirious, calling only for me, for my comforting remedies.
He missed the services, not the woman.
I calmly hung up; my new life was finally my own. The Queen Bee's Fall
Modern The drone of Mr. Davies' voice, the familiar hum of my junior year English class, felt strangely distant. Once, my life was a clear path: top student, Yale-bound, my future set. My mother, Dr. Emily Miller, a respected psychometrician for the College Board, a source of pride.
But that perfect future shattered. Tiff Reynolds, the school' s queen bee, twisted my academic talents and my mother' s connection into a weapon. Jealous of my success, she spread a monstrous lie: I was the mastermind of a cheating ring, funneling actual test questions from my mom.
The investigation hit like a Category 5 hurricane. My Yale admission, rescinded. My mother, suspended, her brilliant career in ruins. And Dad… Dad, hounded by shame and stress, passed away. The weight of their blame, the utter desolation, crushed me. I tried to end it all, escaping into a cold abyss.
Why? Why did Tiff' s greed and lies destroy everything I loved, everything I was? The injustice was a searing, raw wound. There was no relief, no way out of that suffocating despair, only the consuming question of how my innocent actions could lead to such a catastrophic fall.
Then, the world snapped back. Heart hammering, I was sitting in class again, the date September 14th. It was real. A second chance. My hands clenched under the desk. This time, I wouldn' t just survive. This time, they would pay. His 'Practice' Bride, Her Real Wedding
Romance For five years, Ava Miller navigated a passionate, secret relationship with Ethan Hayes, her best friend's younger brother. High above the New York skyline, she lived in their bubble, cherishing his touch and believing his fervent promises that their hidden love would "soon" be revealed to the world. She devoted herself, feeling vibrant and truly loved.
One devastating night, her carefully constructed world shattered. Hiding just outside a half-open door, Ava overheard Ethan tell his closest friends she was nothing more than "great practice"—a mere "walking manual" for him to hone his boyfriend skills for his true, long-held obsession, Chloe Vance. Five years of her life, dismissed as a calculated "training program."
The revelation was a gut punch. Ethan, the man who pursued her so ardently, abandoned her at her sickest to fuss over Chloe’s minor scrape. He allowed Chloe to publicly gloat, calling Ava a "warm-up act" and "convenient." Every tender word, every intimate gesture, now felt like a meticulously rehearsed lie. The man she loved saw her as a disposable tool.
How could someone be so callous? Was her entire five-year relationship a horrifying, humiliating charade? The sheer audacity, the betrayal, left her reeling, disgraced and utterly heartbroken. What was she if not a placeholder, a learning experience for someone else?
Refusing to be a discarded practice doll any longer, Ava made a stark choice. She severed all ties, sold her life in New York, and fled to Charleston, determined to build a new, honest life—one where she was truly valued. But would her past, and Ethan’s eventual realization, allow her to move on untouched? You might like
Rejected by the Son, I Chose the Don
Rabbit On my wedding day, my father sold me to the Chicago Outfit to pay his debts. I was supposed to marry Alex Moreno, the heir to the city's most powerful crime family. But he couldn't even be bothered to show up.
As I stood alone at the altar, humiliated, my best friend delivered the final blow. Alex hadn't just stood me up; he had run off to California with his mistress.
The whispers in the cathedral turned me into a joke. I was damaged goods, the rejected bride. His family knew the whole time and let me take the public fall, offering me his cousins as pathetic replacements-a brute who hated me or a coward who couldn't protect me.
The humiliation burned away my fear, leaving only cold rage. My life was already over, so I decided to set the whole game on fire myself. The marriage pact only said a Carlson had to marry a Moreno; it never said which one.
With nothing left to lose, I looked past the pathetic boys they offered.
I chose the one man they never expected.
I chose his father, the Don himself.
The Underboss's Wife, Now His Queen
Hydro Therapy I stood outside my husband's study, the perfect mafia wife, only to hear him mocking me as an "ice sculpture" while he entertained his mistress, Aria.
But the betrayal went deeper than infidelity.
A week later, my saddle snapped mid-jump, leaving me with a shattered leg. Lying in the hospital bed, I overheard the conversation that killed the last of my love.
My husband, Alessandro, knew Aria had sabotaged my gear. He knew she could have killed me.
Yet, he told his men to let it go. He called my near-death experience a "lesson" because I had bruised his mistress's ego.
He humiliated me publicly, freezing my accounts to buy family heirlooms for her. He stood by while she threatened to leak our private tapes to the press.
He destroyed my dignity to play the hero for a woman he thought was a helpless orphan.
He had no idea she was a fraud.
He didn't know I had installed micro-cameras throughout the estate while he was busy pampering her.
He didn't know I had hours of footage showing his "innocent" Aria sleeping with his guards, his rivals, and even his staff, laughing about how easy he was to manipulate.
At the annual charity gala, in front of the entire crime family, Alessandro demanded I apologize to her.
I didn't beg. I didn't cry.
I simply connected my drive to the main projector and pressed play. Married to the Billionaire Mafia Don
Ebony Pete "You're leaving," Lorenzo said softly.
Ivy straightened her spine and raised her chin. "I am. I'm getting out of this place even if it means climbing over the front gates. I can't stay here anymore. I'm leaving!"
"You can't," Lorenzo said flatly. "Not now."
"Watch me," Ivy hissed, brushing past him.
Lorenzo stepped in her way and grabbed her by the arms-not roughly, but firmly.
"I mean it, Ivy. You can't leave," he said tightly.
She struggled against his grip, her bag falling to the floor with a thud.
"Let me go, Lorenzo! I don't belong here. This place is insane. Your family is insane!"
"You belong to me," he said sharply, eyes burning into hers. "And it's my job to protect what's mine."
"I don't want to be yours," Ivy cried. "I want to be free! I want to live!"
Something shifted in Lorenzo's face. He looked at her then, not as an obligation, not as a pawn, but as a person. A frightened, strong, beautiful woman who had been caught in a storm she never asked for. And something in him cracked.
Lorenzo reached down and cupped her face with both hands. Ivy flinched at first but didn't pull away. His thumbs wiped away the tears rolling down her cheeks.
"I never wanted to hurt you," he said quietly.
Her lower lip trembled. "Then let me go..."
"I can't," he whispered.
And then, without thinking, he leaned in and kissed her.
***************
Ivy Wesley believed that marrying a wealthy stranger would be her golden escape from a life of struggle. Lorenzo Martinelli was supposed to be her way out: her fresh start, her answer to every prayer whispered in the dark.
But the moment the mansion doors shut behind her, Ivy understood the truth. She hadn't stepped into a fairy tale. She had walked straight into the lion's den.
The whispers about the Martinelli family's ties to the Mafia aren't just rumors; they're real, and now Ivy is bound to them by a ring on her finger and secrets she can never unlearn. There is no undoing this choice. No clean exit. Not after what she's seen. Not after what she knows.
Surrounded by dangerous alliances, ruthless power plays, and truths sharp enough to draw blood, Ivy finds herself caught in a world where trust is a luxury and loyalty can be lethal. Yet in the middle of the chaos, something even more unexpected takes root: a love she never planned for, never prepared for, and may not survive.
Now Ivy faces an impossible choice: run while she still can, or stand her ground beside the man who could destroy her as easily as he protects her. In a world where betrayal lurks behind every polished smile and devotion can cost a life, can their love endure... or will it be the very thing that brings everything crashing down? You Called Me Barren, Mr. Sterile Don
Gong Zi On my birthday, my husband Dante asked for a divorce over a plate of cold lasagna.
He held my hand, tears in his eyes, and told me his mistress was pregnant.
"It’s a miracle, Elena," he wept. "God has finally given me a son."
He looked at me with pity, calling me "broken" because I hadn't given him an heir in eight years.
He moved his pregnant mistress into the penthouse I paid for, and his mother mocked me as a "dry vine" while cooking tonic soups for the new woman.
They didn't know the truth I had buried three years ago.
I remembered the day the doctor slid the file across the desk: *Azoospermia. Zero sperm count.*
Dante was the sterile one.
I had burned the results to protect his fragile ego as a Mafia Don. I took the blame. I drank his mother's vile herbal poisons every morning until I vomited, just to keep his secret.
Now, he was discarding me for a "miracle" that was biologically impossible.
I signed the divorce papers without a tear.
Then I bought the debt of his company, put on a blood-red dress, and walked into his heir's Christening.
I didn't come to object.
I came to plug a USB drive into the projector and show the entire underworld exactly whose "miracle" that baby really was. Too Late, Vitiello: The Bride Strikes Back
Jia Zhong I was about to walk down the grand staircase to marry Dante Vitiello, a feared mafia Don, sealing a powerful blood oath between our Families.
But at the bottom of the marble steps, I found his former mistress wearing an exact replica of my three-million-dollar bridal gown, bleeding from a minor scrape and screaming that I pushed her.
Dante immediately stormed into the foyer, his dark eyes furious, and crushed my wrist in a violent grip.
"Bow your head and apologize to her," he demanded in front of the entire underworld elite.
His mother stepped forward and spat at me, calling me a vicious, jealous girl who brought shame to their empire.
The surrounding made men and high-society guests whispered in condemnation, entirely taking his side.
But the deepest betrayal wasn't his mistress crashing the wedding.
I soon discovered Dante had ordered his legal team to draft a predatory annulment contract the night before.
It was titled "Major Fault of the Bride," a meticulously planned trap designed to frame me and strip my family's port territories as reparations for this staged disaster.
I looked at the man I was supposed to marry, realizing he thought I was just a naive pawn he could humiliate, rob, and discard.
He truly believed I would break down in tears and submit to his power.
Instead, I pulled out my encrypted phone and summoned the Mafia Commission's Arbitrator.
"Cancel the marriage ceremony," I commanded coldly, preparing to shed my heavy bridal gown. "Tonight, there is no wedding." 
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