Cun Li
13 Published Stories
Cun Li's Books and Stories
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.
My Husband's Brother Owns My Secret
Rabbit My marriage to Joshua Caldwell was a prison sentence. I was a Hartman trophy, sold to the powerful family who had destroyed mine.
Then I discovered he was cheating. His mistress was pregnant with the child he denied me, and he was stealing my secret song lyrics to build her career. When I confronted him, he called me a spineless liability and threatened to destroy what was left of my family.
To make matters worse, a one-night stand with a stranger turned out to be with my husband's brother, Anthony Caldwell-the Don of the city. He knew all of Joshua's secrets and used them to trap me in a twisted game, seeing me as nothing more than an asset.
They both thought I was a broken doll they could control.
I wrote a song for his mistress, a beautiful execution with a single, impossible note I knew would destroy her voice.
She sang it, and now her career is over.
Now the Don has summoned me to Chicago, not knowing the woman he thinks is his asset is the one who just burned his brother's world to the ground. Burned by Poison, Saved by the Devil
Gale Kaaya My cousin Hailey paid a dock worker to assault me just to ruin my engagement.
To survive the military-grade aphrodisiac she poisoned me with, I stumbled into a walk-in freezer and threw myself onto the only source of cold I could find-a man paralyzed by unnatural hypothermia.
It was a desperate, primal exchange of my heat for his ice just to keep my heart from stopping.
But when Hailey threw open the heavy iron door, leading my fiancé and the entire Bolton family to witness my "shame," her triumphant grin instantly vanished.
She hadn't caught me with a low-life thug.
She had caught me straddling Demetrius Maddox, the ruthless Iron King of Chicago.
The air in the room dropped to absolute zero. My grandmother screamed in horror, and my father turned the color of ash.
Hailey, blinded by jealousy, tried to double down. She pointed a manicured finger at the deadliest man in the city and called him a "nameless muscle" I picked up to defile the family name.
She didn't realize she had just signed her own death warrant.
I didn't cower. I realized this was the only chance to survive the family that wanted me dead.
I walked up to the Devil himself, my body still humming with the poison, and looked him in the eye.
"Kill me, and the cold inside you wins," I whispered, knowing he was dying from the inverse of my own poison. "I am the only doctor who knows how to cure you."
Demetrius tightened his hand around my throat, his dark eyes assessing my worth.
"Prove it," he growled.
I turned back to my trembling cousin and signaled the enforcer to hand me the whip. To Ruin Him, I Married His Rival
Rabbit Andrew Hebert, the man who promised to protect me, stood on a stage and announced his engagement to my tormentor. It wasn't just heartbreak; it was a business deal. He was selling me to a creditor to cover his gambling debts.
The applause of the powerful families was a death sentence, each clap sealing my fate as collateral. Andrew had paraded me here just to show everyone I was an asset to be liquidated, while his new fiancée smirked at me from the stage.
I was trapped, with no money and no one to turn to. The man I loved was leading me to the slaughter.
But as I fled into the library, a voice emerged from the shadows, deep and dangerous.
Damien Maddox. The Dark Don. The only man Andrew feared.
He offered me a different kind of cage, one with the power to burn Andrew's world to the ground.
With nothing left to lose, I looked the devil in the eyes.
"Take me with you." His Vow Broke, Her Empire Woke
Hei Baidong I was the perfect Mafia wife, my dowry the foundation of my husband's ambition. I paid for his Yale degree, his tailored suits, and the very mansion he called his own. My reward? He paraded his mistress into my bedroom and declared her his second wife, expecting me to silently finance their affair.
They thought they had broken a merchant's daughter. They forgot I was raised by wolves.
Armed with a blood chit—a life debt owed to my family by the most feared man in Chicago—I walked into the lion's den. I went to Damien 'The Wraith' Falcone, the Dark Don who rules the Outfit with an iron fist, to demand a simple annulment.
But the King of Chicago isn't interested in simple transactions. He saw the steel beneath my silk, the vendetta burning in my eyes. He granted me my freedom, but at a price: my allegiance. Now, I'm a pawn in his lethal game of thrones, caught between a treacherous husband I swore to destroy and a ruthless Don who looks at me with a terrifying, possessive hunger.
In a city built on loyalty and betrayal, I'm about to teach them all that a queen's wrath is the deadliest weapon of all. Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles
Dorine Koestler I watched my husband sign the papers that would end our marriage while he was busy texting the woman he actually loved.
He didn't even glance at the header. He just scribbled the sharp, jagged signature that had signed death warrants for half of New York, tossed the file onto the passenger seat, and tapped his screen again.
"Done," he said, his voice devoid of emotion.
That was Dante Moretti. The Underboss. A man who could smell a lie from a mile away but couldn't see that his wife had just handed him an annulment decree disguised beneath a stack of mundane logistics reports.
For three years, I scrubbed his blood out of his shirts. I saved his family's alliance when his ex, Sofia, ran off with a civilian.
In return, he treated me like furniture.
He left me in the rain to save Sofia from a broken nail. He left me alone on my birthday to drink champagne on a yacht with her. He even handed me a glass of whiskey—her favorite drink—forgetting that I despised the taste.
I was merely a placeholder. A ghost in my own home.
So, I stopped waiting. I burned our wedding portrait in the fireplace, left my platinum ring in the ashes, and boarded a one-way flight to San Francisco.
I thought I was finally free. I thought I had escaped the cage.
But I underestimated Dante.
When he finally opened that file weeks later and realized he had signed away his wife without looking, the Reaper didn't accept defeat.
He burned down the world to find me, obsessed with reclaiming the woman he had already thrown away. Betrayed, I Married the Feared Cripple
Hu Minxue Three days after my fiancé publicly dumped me for my stepsister, the Supreme Don issued a command that silenced the entire estate.
I wasn't being cast aside. I was being sold to Damien Russo.
The "Broken Don." A crippled, scarred monster rumored to have murdered his last two wives.
My adoptive mother, Elena, didn't cry for me. She smirked.
To her, I was finally being disposed of.
She was so confident I was walking to my death that she decided to loot my corpse before I even left.
She forged documents to steal my entire inheritance—my biological mother’s trust fund—to pay for my stepsister’s lavish wedding to my ex.
"She won't need money where she's going," my stepsister laughed, wearing a dress bought with my stolen funds.
They thought they were sending a lamb to the slaughter.
They thought I was too weak, too stupid, and too afraid of the monster to fight back.
But they made a fatal mistake.
With my aunt’s help, I didn't just find the proof of their embezzlement; I found a weapon.
I’m not running from the monster. I’m going to marry him.
And when I hand him the evidence that the Herrera family stole from his bride, he won't be my executioner.
He will be my vengeance. Mistaken Identity: Loving The Wrong Twin Sister
Tabbie Platt I replaced my twin sister in a marriage contract to the ruthless Mafia Don, Donovan Blackwood.
For three years, I was a ghost in his home, silently enduring his coldness while he flaunted his mistress, Chloe.
On the very last day of our contract, Chloe staged an accident.
Donovan didn't hesitate.
He forced me to drain my blood to save her life.
Then, to prove his loyalty to her, he drove me to the cliffs and pushed me into the freezing ocean.
He even locked me in a cellar infested with spiders—my deepest phobia—because she lied and said I threatened her.
He thought he was punishing the spoiled, arrogant Isabella.
He didn't know he was breaking Ava, the woman who had silently memorized his allergies and waited up for him in the dark every single night.
When I finally took my fifty million dollars and vanished, I left behind nothing but the divorce papers and a photo revealing the truth.
He tore the city apart, destroying my family to find me, only to realize he had tortured the wrong woman.
Now, he is standing on my porch in the pouring rain, staring in horror at the simple wooden ring on my finger given to me by another man.
He falls to his knees, begging for a chance to love the wife he tried to destroy.
I look at him, feeling absolutely nothing.
"It's too late, Donovan," I say, locking the door. "You killed her." My Cold Heart: Rejecting The Mafia Boss
Jia Zhong My husband, the Outfit’s most feared Consigliere, stood up and buttoned his suit jacket.
He had just convinced a jury that Sofia Moretti was innocent.
But we both knew the truth: Sofia had poisoned my mother over a spilled martini on her Valentino dress.
Instead of comforting me, Dante looked at me with cold, dead eyes.
"If you make a scene," he whispered, gripping my arm until it bruised, "I will bury you in a psychiatric ward so deep even God won't find you."
To protect the Family alliance, he sacrificed his wife.
When I tried to fight back, he drugged me at a gala.
He let a private investigator take photos of me, naked and unconscious, just to have leverage to keep me silent.
He paraded Sofia around our penthouse, letting her wear my dead mother’s shawl while I was banished to the staff quarters.
He thought he had broken me.
He thought I was just a nurse’s daughter he could manage.
But he made a fatal error.
He didn't read the "committal forms" I handed him to sign.
They were divorce papers, transferring his assets to me.
And the night of the yacht party, while he toasted to his victory with my mother's killer, I left my wedding ring on the deck.
I didn't jump to die.
I jumped to be reborn.
And when I resurfaced, I made sure Dante Russo burned for every sin. 
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