Dolores
12 Published Stories
Dolores's Books and Stories
Escaping The Obsessive Billionaire's Cage
Modern For three years, I was imprisoned by Anderson Hopper, the monster who forced me to watch my fiancé, Kendall, plummet into a freezing river.
But when I saw the morning news, I realized Kendall wasn't dead. He had returned as Eben Gill, a ruthless tech billionaire.
I risked my life to escape and find him, only to be met with eyes full of absolute hatred.
He publicly humiliated me, dragged me to the exact bridge where he "died," and sneered at the C-section scar on my stomach.
"Anderson Hopper's bastard," he spat, completely unaware that the baby was actually his—the very child Anderson had murdered in the operating room to break me.
To make matters worse, Anderson used Kendall's dying mother as a hostage to force me back into my cage.
I knelt on the freezing asphalt, begging the man I loved to just visit his mother, while he coldly ordered his driver to run me over.
I had lost my baby, my freedom, and my dignity, all to protect him from Anderson's blackmail. Why was I the one being tortured and treated like a traitor?
"Don't think your little kneeling stunt earned you my forgiveness."
He whispered those cruel words before walking away without looking back.
Staring at his cold, retreating figure, the last shred of my love finally turned to ash.
That night, under the cover of a torrential storm, I bypassed the estate's laser grids and walked out into the dark. The Feral Alpha's Secret Wolfless Mate
Werewolf In my past life, I used a black-market aphrodisiac mixed with my white peach and jasmine scent to seduce the volatile Second Alpha Son.
But the drug pushed his pureblood Inner Wolf into a violent frenzy, turning me into his broken, captive Breeder.
I thought my devotion would eventually earn his love, but I was completely wrong.
The other maids mocked my Wolfless status, and when the East Wing's deadly politics targeted me, Jaren watched with cold, golden eyes.
"A Wolfless freak could never be a real Omega," they sneered, leaving me to die an agonizing death on a cold stone floor.
Until my last breath, I couldn't understand why my desperate love only bought me a terrifying execution.
Opening my eyes again, I was back on the very night I made the fatal mistake, pinned under his scorching weight.
This time, I bit his shoulder, slipped out of his bed, and scrubbed my skin raw with harsh lye soap and mud to hide my scent.
When the Pack House Manager lined us up the next morning hunting for the girl who triggered the Alpha's feral Heat, another maid eagerly stepped forward.
"It was me, sir. I served Lord Jaren last night."
Watching her being dragged away to become his new Breeder, I calmly lowered my head and gripped my broom.
Let her take the deadly target on her back. This time, I just want to buy my freedom and get as far away from him as possible. They Left Me, He Claimed My Heart
Modern I was the luckiest woman in New York, with three devoted, successful men catering to my every whim.
Then, they left me. All three of them, for the same woman-a self-made CEO who was everything I wasn't.
They called me a spoiled brat, a user, a burden. When I ran to them, broken and bleeding after a fall, they pushed me away. One of them even put his hands on my throat, his eyes filled with a hatred I' d never seen, all while the others watched.
Their disgust was a physical blow, shattering the last piece of my heart. I was nothing to them anymore, just a mistake they were desperate to erase.
So, in my darkest moment, I made a choice. I ran to my father and demanded he arrange my marriage to the one man our circle feared-a reclusive Scottish heir they called the "Sea Lord."
It was a life sentence, but it was also my only escape. The Betrayed Wife's Darkest Alliance
Modern I was the perfect Sterling wife, living in a multi-million dollar Upper East Side townhouse where every hair had to be in place. I thought my only job was to look beautiful at Julian's side and maintain the image of a flawless high-society marriage.
But the illusion shattered when Julian came home smelling of a cheap, floral perfume that definitely wasn't mine. I followed him to The Pierre Hotel, the very place we spent our honeymoon, and caught him in a bathrobe with a younger woman who looked at me with pure triumph.
When I demanded a divorce, Julian didn't even flinch; he just laughed and showed me his true colors. He revealed he was personally funding the experimental treatment keeping my comatose father alive, and he threatened to pull the plug the moment I walked away. He told me I was nothing more than "breeding stock" needed to secure his inheritance, and I discovered his family was actively plotting to steal my father's billion-dollar medical patent. When I tried to resist, he backhanded me across the face and told me to fix my makeup because we had a gala to attend.
I stood in a ballroom full of New York's elite with a bruised jaw hidden under heavy foundation, realizing that every person I trusted had been bought. My own family lawyer turned his back on me, leaving me alone in a den of wolves who were waiting for my father to die so they could strip his legacy bare.
The injustice burned through my grief, turning my despair into a cold, sharp rage. I realized that playing by the rules had only made me a target, and if I wanted to survive, I had to become more dangerous than the men trying to destroy me.
That was when I ran into Sebastian Sterling, Julian's uncle and the most feared predator on Wall Street. He saw the bruise Julian tried to hide and whispered that he didn't do charity, but he did hate weakness. I looked into the eyes of the man they called "The Reaper" and realized he was the only one powerful enough to help me burn the Sterling empire to the ground.
"Help me," I said, stepping into his shadow. "And I'll give you everything they're trying to steal." My Birthday, His Cruel Betrayal
Modern On my 28th birthday, my superstar boyfriend, Jarrett, stood me up. He had to comfort his co-star, Kisha. A few hours later, I saw the paparazzi photo that ended our seven-year relationship.
Jarrett was in a dimly lit bar, his arm wrapped around a tear-streaked Kisha, her head on his shoulder.
The next morning, I confronted him. He insisted it was just "method acting."
"She was just drunk," he said, running a hand through his hair. "Confessing her feelings for her character."
He called me dramatic and paranoid for questioning him. He said I was throwing away seven years over a "stupid photo." It was the same gaslighting he'd used for years, wrapping his emotional infidelity in a pretty little "method acting" bow.
But this time, I didn't cry. I felt a sudden, chilling calm.
"I regret every second I wasted loving you," I told him. "We are over." Betrayed Love, A Secret Heiress Rises
Billionaires For five years, I put my life on hold to help my boyfriend, Jace, build our dream hotel. I hid my identity as the sole heiress to a culinary empire, pretending to be ordinary just to protect his fragile ego. Tonight was supposed to be the night we finally signed the papers and made it all real.
But he showed up late with his junior colleague, Kathie, on his arm. For the twelfth time, he canceled everything for one of her manufactured crises, leaving me standing alone with our investors.
The next day, in front of our entire office, he gifted Kathie a diamond tennis bracelet-the exact one I' d once admired, only for him to call it a waste of money.
He looked at my stunned silence and had the nerve to ask, "Can't you just be happy for your colleague?"
That night, he tried to make it up to me by ordering my "favorite" dish at dinner. It was a seafood stew I'm deathly allergic to, a fact he swore on our third date he'd never forget. He hadn't forgotten me; he had simply replaced my memory with hers.
He thought he was trading up for a cheap diamond. He had no idea he was throwing away a kingdom. So I smashed the model of our shared dream to pieces, booked a one-way ticket home to Napa Valley, and blocked his number. It was time to show him exactly what he had lost. The Wife He Sacrificed
Modern Five times, I had felt the flutter of life inside me, only to have it stolen away. Five times, I bled and cried. This sixth time, pregnant again, I held the secret tight, terrified Emily would find a way to blow it out.
Then, the storm hit: Emily was sick, leukemia, and I was the only perfect bone marrow match. David, my husband, the man who' d seen me through five losses, told me it was just "a collection of cells" and forced me to terminate our baby.
He had it all planned out: my body, my child, my future, all sacrificed for Emily. He called it a "medical necessity," even as he destroyed the one locket I kept, a memento for our lost daughter, because Emily "needed symbols of hope." I laid on my hospital bed, having survived severe anaphylaxis after he forced me to consume shellfish I was deathly allergic to, a soup Emily had deliberately requested. I realized he had tried to kill me, for her.
The man I married, who promised to protect me, had systematically dismantled me. He saw my pain as an inconvenience, my children as obstacles. I was trapped, isolated, with nowhere to go.
But in that moment of absolute devastation, a cold, hard certainty was born. While he was planning how to use my body to save his sister, I was planning my escape. Olivia Clark was gone for good, and Ava Miller was about to be reborn. The Woman I Loved, My Ruin
Sci-fi The static hiss was the sound of silence, of 108 voices gone. My men, Seal Team Seven, gone.
It was supposed to be a routine urban mission, but then a dazzling drone light show filled the sky, communications died, and a single, gasping voice whispered: "...they' re all gone…"
The gut-wrenching truth unfolded: a tech mogul' s "future city" launch, Liam Vance, had inadvertently jammed our encrypted channels. But the deepest cut? This mogul was Liam Vance, my wife Dr. Seraphina Vance' s brother. And the technology powering his show, the very tech that sealed my men' s fate, was experimental military gear from my unit's field hospital, requisitioned by Sera herself.
When I confronted her, still reeling from the horrific casualty report, she coolly declared them "collateral damage," a necessary sacrifice for "a much greater good." My wife, the woman I loved, stood there with champagne in hand, defending the man who murdered my men. How could she betray not just me, but the very lives I swore to protect, for some twisted vision of progress?
The love I felt curdled into a cold, hard resolve. She wanted a future built on the graves of my soldiers? Fine. I would dismantle their empire brick by bloody brick, starting now. Framed Father's Fierce Flight
Modern The laughter from my living room, once a cherished sound, now felt like a constant reminder of my invisibility.
My wife, Sophia, and our children, Lucas and Mia, hung on every word of my charming brother, Ethan, on screen-a level of admiration they never afforded me, the stay-at-home dad who managed their entire lives.
Then, Mia' s innocent question hit like a physical blow: "Does that mean Uncle Ethan can come live with us? He could be our new dad!"
Lucas eagerly agreed, "He's way more fun than Dad."
Their words, fueled by Sophia' s constant undermining and Ethan' s manipulation, confirmed they had already replaced me.
When I tried to leave, they escalated.
Lucas and Mia trashed my belongings, writing "LOSER DAD" on my pillow.
Despite my calm, Lucas shoved me, sending my head crashing against a dresser.
As I lay bleeding and disoriented, Sophia, seeing a convenient escape, called 911, accusing me of "trashing the room" and "scaring the children."
The injustice was crushing.
How could the family I sacrificed everything for not only betray me but then frame me as the villain?
The children I raised, now strangers, were echoing their mother' s twisted narrative.
Their combined cruelty and her calculated performance left me speechless, but a quiet resolve began to harden.
I would leave this place, this life built on my sacrifice and their ingratitude.
I would fight for my freedom, even if it meant dismantling the image of the perfect family they so readily discarded. Back in Time: My Wife's Secret Betrayal
Romance My wife of fifty years just passed away. Everyone called me devoted for staying by her side until her last breath.
As I sorted through her things, I found a stack of journals, tucked away in a dusty box.
Her elegant script filled the pages, but the words, page after page, year after year, were for another man: Caleb Blakely.
Fifty years of our marriage had been a lie, her every action orchestrated to protect her secret passion for him.
Her "medical trauma," the reason she claimed we could never be intimate, was a cruel fabrication.
And my son, Leo-the boy I raised and loved with all my soul after his mother died-he wasn't just my nephew in spirit. He was Caleb' s biological son.
The man I thought was my brother, the woman I devoted my life to, they had made me a fool, an unpaid nanny, a convenient placeholder.
The agony of five decades of deceit crushed me, and my heart, already weak from age and grief, finally gave out.
Then I gasped, eyes flying open, perfectly healthy and impossibly young, back in my bed with the morning sunlight streaming through the window.
I was back. Fifty years in the past. Jocelyn was walking in the door, briefcase in hand, ready to begin the betrayal all over again.
Not this time. The Heiress You Destroyed
Billionaires The ultrasound gel was cold on my pregnant belly. My fiancé, Markus, and father, Charles-my entire world-were supposedly locked in a crucial investor meeting. But then, an anonymous email. A live stream flickered to life, revealing Charles beaming, proposing to his mistress. My blood ran cold when the camera panned to Markus, smiling beside Chloe Jenkins, her hand resting on her visibly pregnant stomach, announcing their engagement.
Their words echoed: my commitment ceremony was a sham, my child illegitimate, merely a pawn in their elaborate scheme to secure the Fairmont empire through the Jenkins women. The man I loved, playing me for a fool for years. A recording from his friends confirmed it: I was just a "naive heiress," knocked up without a real ring, while he secretly chased Chloe.
The betrayal was a physical blow. At our family gala, on the anniversary of my mother' s death, Chloe wore my mother' s vintage Chanel. When I confronted her, she staged a fall, framing me. Markus, my Markus, coldly watched as she shoved me backwards, my head hitting the marble balustrade. I gasped, blood blooming on my dress. Both my father and fiancé ignored me, leaving me bleeding, my life' s foundation shattered.
My credit cards were declined. Abandoned by family, publicly branded a homewrecker, and physically attacked on the street, I was in despair. Why me? How long had this monstrous lie ensnared me? But just as a chair was poised to strike, a strong hand intervened. Alexander Sterling, the reclusive tech mogul, stepped forward. "Who dares call Mr. Sterling' s child a bastard?" he thundered, sweeping me into his arms. My child, his heir. My world had turned inside out, and a new, powerful game had just begun. You might like
Married To My Ex-Fiancé's Silent Uncle
Ming Yue Twenty minutes before the "Wedding of the Century" at The Plaza, I stood outside the Presidential Suite in a fifty-thousand-dollar Vera Wang gown. I was the girl from a West Virginia trailer park about to marry Hugh Maxwell, the golden heir to a billion-dollar defense empire.
I pushed the door open only to find Hugh pinned against the bed with my own stepsister, Floy. She was wearing my bridal diamond necklace, and the sounds of their laughter scraped against my eardrums like sandpaper.
I didn't scream; I listened as Hugh grunted that once the wedding was over and the trust fund unlocked, he'd dump "that hillbilly trash" on a bus back to the mountains. They weren't just cheating; they were planning to steal my family's land deeds and leave me with nothing. When I set off the sprinklers and exposed their naked bodies to the paparazzi, the Maxwell family didn't apologize. They called me a "greedy peasant" and threatened to ruin my life unless I signed a new deal to save their crashing stock.
I realized then that I was never a bride to them. I was a transaction, a rounding error in a ledger to be used and discarded. They thought my poverty made me weak and my silence made me a victim.
"If we don't have a marriage certificate by midnight, the bank freezes thirty percent of our liquidity," their lawyer warned.
So, I gave them exactly what they wanted. I used a loophole in their hundred-year-old family covenant and married the only other direct heir available. I didn't marry Hugh. I walked into the ICU and married his uncle, Fleet Maxwell-the legendary war hero who had been in a vegetative state for months.
Now, I am the matriarch of the Maxwell dynasty. I've suspended Hugh's executive powers, exiled my mother-in-law to the Swiss Alps, and taken control of the family vault. They think I'm just a gold-digger waiting for a "corpse" to die so I can collect a fifty-million-dollar widow's payout.
But last night, as I lay beside my comatose husband, the man they called a vegetable gripped my hand back. 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. 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?" Abandoned Ex-Wife: Now Untouchable
Tao Yaoyao My five-year-old daughter was dying in the ICU, her heartbeat replaced by the continuous, electronic scream of a flatline. I gripped her cold hand, my throat sealed shut by a terror so absolute I couldn't even cry out.
I dialed my husband Grayson's private number, the one reserved only for me and his assistants. He declined the call instantly. A second later, a text buzzed against my palm:
"In a meeting. Do not disturb. Stop calling."
Five miles away, Grayson was at a luxury gala, adjusting his silk tie and laughing with Belle Escobar. He told her I was just being "dramatic" and using our daughter's "fever" as an excuse to avoid the event. He had no idea Effie's heart had already stopped.
When I finally reached our penthouse, soaked from the rain and carrying Effie's small socks in a plastic bag, Grayson didn't even look at me. He snapped at me for ruining the hardwood floors and asked if I'd left Effie with the nanny just to "feel sorry for myself."
Three days later, while I buried our daughter in a small, lonely ceremony, Grayson was at the Hamptons. Belle posted a photo of him golfing with the caption: "A mental health day with the boys." He didn't even attend the funeral, but he returned home demanding I clear out Effie's room to make a study for Belle's son.
The injustice burned through me until there was nothing left. I swallowed a handful of sleeping pills, desperate to join my daughter. But instead of the darkness, I woke up to blinding lights and the scent of Grayson's expensive cologne.
I was standing in a ballroom, wearing a blue silk dress I had already burned. Above me, a banner read: "Happy 5th Birthday Kaiden & Effie."
I was back, exactly one year before the tragedy. This time, I wasn't going to be the grieving wife. I was going to be their worst nightmare. The Humble Ex-wife Is Now A Brilliant Tycoon
Flory Corkery For three quiet, patient years, Christina kept house, only to be coldly discarded by the man she once trusted.
Instead, he paraded a new lover, making her the punchline of every town joke.
Liberated, she honed her long-ignored gifts, astonishing the town with triumph after gleaming triumph.
Upon discovering she'd been a treasure all along, her ex-husband's regret drove him to pursue her. "Honey, let's get back together!"
With a cold smirk, Christina spat, "Fuck off."
A silken-suited mogul slipped an arm around her waist. "She's married to me now. Guards, get him the hell out of here!" Phoenix Rising: The Scarred Heiress's Revenge
Xiao Hong Mao I lived as the "scarred ghost" of the Stephens penthouse, a wife kept in the shadows because my facial burns offended my billionaire husband's aesthetic. For years, I endured Kason's coldness and my family's abuse, a submissive puppet who believed she had nowhere else to go.
The end came with a blue folder tossed onto my silk sheets. Kason's mistress was back, and he wanted me out by sunset, offering a five-million-dollar "silence fee" to go hide my face in the countryside.
The betrayal cut deep when I discovered my father had already traded my divorce for a corporate bailout. My step-sister mocked my "trashy" appearance at a high-end boutique, while the sales staff treated me like a common thief. At home, my father threatened to cut off my mother's life-saving medicine unless I crawled back to Kason to beg for a better deal.
I was the girl who took the blame for a fire she didn't start, the wife who worshipped a man who never looked her in the eye, and the daughter used as a human bargaining chip. I was supposed to be broken, penniless, and desperate.
But the woman who stood up wasn't the weak Elease Finch anymore; she was Phoenix, a tactical predator with a $500 million secret. I signed the divorce papers without a single tear, walked past my stunned husband, and wiped the Finch family's bank accounts clean with a few taps on my phone.
"Your money is dirty," I told Kason with a cold smile. "I prefer clean hands."
The cage is open, the hunt has begun, and I'm starting with the people who thought a scar made me weak. Phoenix Of Ruin: My Second Life Comes With A Better Man
Maple Breeze Ashley gave Nicolas ten years of love and five years of loyalty as his perfect housewife, only to be repaid with betrayal, humiliation, and death at the hands of him and his mistress.
After being reborn, she vowed to make them pay.
She tore apart the mistress, kicked her useless husband aside, and returned as the heiress of a top-tier family.
Surrounded by billions, luxury, and a parade of elite bachelors, Ashley became the woman everyone wanted-including a cold, powerful tycoon.
When Nicolas came begging for forgiveness, she smiled coldly. "Fuck off! My man is worth a hundred of you." Beneath His Ugly Wife's Mask: Her Revenge Was Her Brilliance
Lukas Difabio Elliana, the unfavored "ugly duckling" of her family, was humiliated by her stepsister, Paige, who everyone admired. Paige, engaged to the CEO Cole, was the perfect woman-until Cole married Elliana on the day of the wedding. Shocked, everyone wondered why he chose the "ugly" woman.
As they waited for her to be cast aside, Elliana stunned everyone by revealing her true identity: a miracle healer, financial mogul, appraisal prodigy, and AI genius.
When her mistreatment became known, Cole revealed Elliana's stunning, makeup-free photo, sending shockwaves through the media. "My wife doesn't need anyone's approval." Wild Heiress, Tamed Billionaire
Ruby Stone When I called my husband while trapped in a kidnapper's warehouse, he laughed. "Stop faking," he said, "my delicate mistress needs her sleep." He hung up. I signed the divorce papers drenched in my own blood, giving up everything just to escape the monster I married.
His mother threw a broken umbrella at me in the rain. I had nothing-no money, no identity, no hope.
But the moment I turned away, eight black Escalades encircled the street. A man in a tailored suit stepped out of a Rolls-Royce, shielding me with an umbrella. In his hand was a DNA test-and twenty-three years of relentless search.
"Your last name isn't Smith," he said, wiping blood from my wrist with his handkerchief. "It's Wilder. The Wilder family. And the man who left you to die?" He smiled, icy. "He owes us nine billion dollars." Untouchable After Goodbye: She Had A Secret Empire
Mira Westfield "Let's get a divorce. She's pregnant and deserves a place in my life."
He once promised to protect Claire forever, yet when his first love returned, he cast her aside. For three years, Claire dimmed her brilliance, living quietly as the obedient wife behind him.
When he handed her divorce papers to give his pregnant mistress a place, Claire no longer hid her talents.
The woman he had overlooked was a legendary healer, racing prodigy, and a genius designer. After the divorce, she reclaimed her glory.
When he pleaded, "Honey, let's remarry," another man pulled her close. "She's my wife now. As for you... Someone, take him out and give him what he deserves!" 
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