Diewu Pianpian
11 Published Stories
Diewu Pianpian's Books and Stories
Reborn Wife: A Mother's Fury
Modern The last thing I remembered was the cold, sterile operating room.
A sharp pain tore through my abdomen, and my husband Ethan's chilling indifference burned into me.
"Sign it, Ethan! The doctor says she's bleeding out. They need to perform the surgery to save her!" I screamed, my voice distant and desperate.
But he wouldn't. He stood there, arms crossed, saying, "The doctor said there's a risk to the baby. I can't risk my daughter's life."
"There won't be a daughter if I die!" I countered, agony blurring my vision. "The baby can't survive if I don't!"
Then, my six-year-old stepson, Liam, holding Ethan's hand, pointed at me.
"Dad, Sophia said this woman is just faking it. She said if she dies, Sophia can be my new mom and take care of you and the baby."
His words hit harder than any physical pain. My own stepson, a child I'd raised since he was two, was wishing for my death.
Ethan didn't scold him. He squeezed Liam' s shoulder in silent agreement as Sophia Davis, Liam's beautiful young tutor, stepped into view with a triumphant smirk.
They never signed the papers.
I bled out on that operating table, my last sight the three of them-Ethan, Liam, and Sophia-already looking like a happy family.
A sharp gasp snapped me awake.
My eyes flew open. I was in my own bed, morning sun streaming through the silk curtains. My hand went to my stomach. It was still there, a gentle, rounded swell. My baby girl was safe.
I grabbed my phone. The date confirmed it: today was the day my life unraveled. The day Liam brought Sophia home.
I hadn't died. I was back.
The memory of my death wasn't a dream. It was a searing brand, a horrifying premonition. The betrayal, the pain, the cold finality-all of it clear as day.
A wave of nausea washed over me, not from pregnancy, but from cold, hard fury. They would not kill me this time. They would not harm my daughter. This time, I would make them pay for a crime they hadn't committed yet.
Just then, the doorbell rang.
I heard the housekeeper, then Liam's excited chatter. My heart turned to ice. It was starting. Carrying His Heir After The Divorce
Romance After two years of a cold, loveless marriage, Kara signed the divorce papers without shedding a single tear.
Her only condition to her billionaire husband, Julian, was simple: "After this, we never see each other again."
But fate played a cruel joke. On the exact same day she agreed to the divorce, she found out she was pregnant with his child.
Meanwhile, Julian was at the hospital, tenderly caring for his recently awakened first love, Seraphina, already planning their grand wedding.
When severe morning sickness made Kara vomit outside Seraphina’s hospital room, Julian’s eyes burned with contempt.
"Have you made enough of a scene?" he hissed, comforting his crying mistress.
Later, when he caught Kara violently throwing up at home, he cornered her with a cold, knowing sneer.
"Are you pretending to be pregnant to delay the divorce?" he mocked. "Impossible. We always used protection."
He had completely forgotten the one night he stumbled into her room, blind drunk.
Even her own mother slapped her across the face and threw her luggage into the hallway, disowning her for failing to keep her wealthy husband.
Kara sat alone on the cold floor, her heart pulverized into ash.
The man she had loved for years viewed her as a manipulative liar, and her own family saw her only as a failed business transaction.
Staring into the dark night, a chilling calm washed over her.
She picked up her phone and methodically deleted Julian's number.
On Monday, she would finalize the divorce, protect her baby, and vanish from his world completely. Too Late: She Chose The Billionaire Heir
Modern "She’s just like a sister to me, Eliana. You’re being dramatic."
That was Jax’s excuse every time he chose Catalina over me for three years.
When Catalina staged a fake drowning in three feet of water, he pushed me aside to save her, telling me my life wasn't his problem.
But the breaking point came when she deliberately pushed me down a flight of stairs.
My ankle shattered on the concrete. I was lying there in agony, unable to move.
Yet, Jax didn't check on me.
He stepped over my bleeding body to scoop Catalina up because she had a minor scratch on her elbow.
He screamed at me for "hurting" her.
While I lay in the hospital alone, waiting for surgery, he was spoon-feeding her soup in her dorm, posting photos captioned "My Hero."
He thought I would always be his "Elie Bear," the doormat waiting at home to clean up his messes.
He was convinced that no matter how much he hurt me, I would never actually leave.
But he was wrong.
I didn't scream. I didn't fight.
I simply signed the withdrawal papers, blocked his number, and boarded a one-way flight to New York without saying goodbye.
Three months later, when Jax finally realized his "sister" was a nightmare and came crawling back to beg for forgiveness, he found me.
But I wasn't alone.
I was holding the hand of a billionaire heir who looked at Jax with cold, deadly eyes.
"Touch her again," my new fiancé whispered, "and I will destroy your entire family by morning." A Birkin For Every Lie
Romance There are ninety-nine Hermès Birkins sitting in my walk-in closet.
To the world, it' s a collection worth millions. To me, it' s a tally of ninety-nine times my husband, Harris, betrayed me.
Each bag was a silent apology I accepted to keep our hollow marriage alive.
But the hundredth betrayal wasn't fixed with crocodile leather.
On the anniversary of my mother's death, I tracked Harris to my family' s private cemetery.
He wasn't alone. Jessica, his "first love," was there, standing over the empty plot reserved for my living father, right next to my mother' s grave.
They were digging a hole.
Jessica smirked, holding a velvet box containing her dead cat and a plaque that read To Arvel, my eternal companion.
"It' s just a cat, Cecily," she laughed, tossing her hair.
"Don't be so dramatic. Your father won't mind the company. Besides, it shows who Harris really listens to."
For years, I accepted the bags and the lies. But desecrating my family's sacred ground?
The submissive wife died in that moment.
I walked toward them, clutching the evidence that would destroy Jessica' s life and shatter Harris' s world.
"Dig it up," I commanded, my voice colder than the grave.
"Or I will bury you both right here." Her Betrayal, His Rebirth
Modern The memory was a ghost that never left my apartment.
It played on a loop: Sarah, glowing on screen, cheering fans, my game "Aetheria" about to launch.
"Five more minutes, baby," she' d whispered, "And the world will see what a genius you are. I' ll make sure of it."
I believed her. I poured everything into "Aetheria," my masterpiece. Sarah, the biggest streamer, was my partner, promising a massive launch.
But when her stream hit zero, not "Aetheria," but "Chrono Rift," a cheap clone, filled the screen.
Then her voice, slick and commercial, declared, "THIS is the game of the year. 'Chrono Rift' is here!"
The betrayal was immediate. She savaged my game: "A little birdie told me 'Aetheria' is a buggy, unplayable mess. Don' t waste your money. The developer is in way over his head."
The world broke.
Months later, surrounded by final notice bills, I heard her on the news. "Chrono Rift" sold ten million units. Mark, its developer, wrapped an arm around her, speaking of their "stable future."
I later learned of their affair, their secret deal. My ruin was their business expense.
Why? How could she? The woman I loved, my partner, had systematically destroyed me for profit.
Clicking off the TV, I saw an old hard drive labeled "Nexus," my abandoned first project. Plugging it in, I saw a strange line of code, a "developer' s blessing," reminding me of boundless creativity.
A jolt. I would rebuild. I started "Aetheria 2.0." Their castle of glass stood, but I was gathering stones. When Prophecies Kill: A Fortune Reclaimed
Billionaires The last thing I remember from my first life is the roar of flames and the ceiling crushing me in my family' s manor.
My fiancée, Nicole, and my supposed long-lost brother, Wesley, watched from outside, their faces twisted not in grief, but in triumph.
I died alone, framed, betrayed, and erased from existence.
Now, I'm back, reborn into the very moment their insidious plan unfolded.
Wesley, the charming newcomer who miraculously appeared after my parents' funeral with a "prophecy" of our housekeeper Maria's death, was setting the stage.
Then came the "vision" of an earthquake, threatening to destroy our ancestral home, driving my sisters Jennifer and Gabby into a panicked retreat.
In my past life, I believed their lies, fled the house, and it exploded with me inside, solidifying Wesley's prophetic credibility.
But this time, I saw it all: Nicole's subtle glances with Wesley, her calculated suggestions leading to Maria's peril, the same conniving smiles they wore as I perished.
How could I have been so blind? So trusting of the very people who plotted my agonizing demise, all for the fortune my family built?
My body may have died once, but my spirit refused to be extinguished.
Now, with fire in my veins and memories sharp as steel, I am ready to rewrite our destiny and turn their perfect scheme into their worst nightmare. Mistress's Second Life Revenge
Romance I woke up in my New York penthouse bedroom, sunlight harsh in my eyes.
The date on my phone read five years ago, before the fire, before I died.
My breath hitched in my throat as I understood: I was reborn.
My husband, Ethan, walked in, his voice flat, demanding I authorize a quarter-million dollar transfer from my trust fund.
In my first life, that money went to Chloe Sanders, his intern, his mistress.
Every painful memory came flooding back: his coldness, his brazen affairs, and finally, him locking me in a remote ski lodge wing as smoke filled the air.
He drove away, leaving me to die in the flames.
I whispered that I didn't feel well, but he only scoffed, telling me to sign the papers and stop being dramatic.
Later, I saw him with Chloe, his tenderness and warm smile solely for her, confirming his betrayal was still ongoing.
When I finally confronted him, his hand swung, cracking across my cheek, leaving me stunned and bleeding.
He then slammed the door to our bedroom shut, locking me inside, threatening a private care facility, calling me "unhinged."
The injustice burned, fueling a cold fury deeper than fear.
Was this my cruel fate, to relive the same nightmare with the same monster?
Why had I been given a second chance, only to face his baseless accusations and violence once more?
This time, I wouldn't just endure his cruelty; I would break free.
As I sent a coded message to my parents, my escape plan was in motion, and my fight for freedom had truly begun. From Scholarship Kid to Capital King
Modern My heart pounded.
This was it – the final presentation for the American Innovators Architectural Prize.
My design, "The Phoenix Initiative," was my masterpiece, my future.
Then, Blake Sterling, my rival, strode onto the stage and began presenting my project.
Every line, every concept, every innovative detail.
Mine.
My blood ran cold, but the nightmare deepened when he publicly accused me of plagiarism.
Gasps filled the room, and all eyes turned to me.
Then Tiffany, my fiancée of seven years, stood up beside him.
Her voice trembling, she voiced her "disappointment," her tears sealing my public disgrace.
I was abandoned, my life's work stolen, my reputation ruined, and my academic future jeopardized by a powerful family and a corrupt dean.
The woman I loved had just publicly thrown me under the bus, dismissing seven years of history for a man she barely knew.
My mind reeled from the sheer audacity, the cold betrayal.
How could they do this?
How could she?
I felt utterly crushed, yet a chilling clarity solidified within me.
They saw me as a mere scholarship kid, easily crushed, and now they demanded I apologize and help Blake refine the very project they stole, threatening to blacklist me permanently if I refused.
So I agreed.
But as I worked days under their watch, I wasn' t fixing his project; I was subtly implanting a fatal, hidden flaw – a ticking time bomb only designed for catastrophic failure.
Then, feigning a sudden, excruciating illness, I walked out, leaving them scrambling, speeding towards a new life.
They thought they had cornered me, little did they know they had just woken up the heir to Cole Capital Development. Beyond the Bell: A Bias Exposed
Young Adult Ashley, a diligent high school student, usually focused intently on Ms. Davison's history lectures, diligently preparing for her big exam.
But one ordinary day, a sudden, brutal pain, deeper and more sinister than any muscle cramp, surged through her right side, accompanied by an unsettling wave of feverish heat.
Despite Ashley's desperate plea to see the nurse, Ms. Davison, with icy contempt, casually dismissed her suffering as "dramatic theatrics" designed to skip class, even offering her questionable, unlabeled pills from a dusty drawer before physically blocking Ashley from leaving the classroom, threatening severe detention as Ashley swayed, on the verge of collapse.
The raw, infuriating injustice burned through Ashley and later, her distraught nurse mother, Sarah, who had overheard the chaos of her daughter’s collapse over a disconnected phone call, only to receive the terrifying ER diagnosis of a severe, life-threatening kidney infection that, hours earlier, could have claimed Ashley’s life, all because Ms. Davison prioritized her arbitrary biases over a child's urgent medical need.
Fueled by an unshakeable resolve to ensure no other child endures such callous neglect, Ashley’s parents, Sarah and Mark, begin their meticulously planned public reckoning, deciding to expose Ms. Davison’s alarming negligence and deeply ingrained prejudices, not with a lawsuit, but with a scathing, sarcastically-worded "award" and a pointed "care package" at the school's widely attended PTA meeting, setting the stage for a dramatic showdown. You might like
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. 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'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. 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. 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?" 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. Addicted To My Secret Genius Wife
Li Zi Hai Shi Xing My father called me into the opulent living room just to announce that my arranged marriage had been given to my stepsister.
Olivia, wearing a smug smile in her Chanel suit, had stolen my fiancé. And as compensation, I was ordered to marry his older brother, Julian—a paralyzed outcast who lived in the neglected, rotting wing of the Sharpe estate.
When I refused to be tossed away like trash, my father used my only weakness.
"Sign the agreement. Otherwise, you know your brother's medical bills..."
My brother Ethan was lying in a hospital bed, trapped in his own body by a rare neurotoxin. I had no choice but to sign the paper and be shipped off to the Sharpe family that very night.
There, I was treated like a joke. The servants placed bets on my humiliation, and my new stepmother-in-law ambushed me with a public brunch to mock my country background.
They all thought I was just a docile, uneducated pawn they could bully and discard.
They didn't know about my perfect SAT score, my hidden Columbia University acceptance letter, or the jar of contaminated soil from my hometown I kept hidden in my bag. They didn't know I already understood the biochemistry of the poison destroying my brother's brain.
Looking at the arrogant family trying to step all over me, and my observant, wheelchair-bound husband who was slowly uncovering my secrets, I smiled coldly.
I didn't come to New York to be a trophy wife, I came for revenge. 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." 
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