Dolorita Drinker
12 Published Stories
Dolorita Drinker's Books and Stories
His Unwanted Wife's Return With Triplets
Romance I gave up my medical school acceptance to become a ghost bride, forced by my adoptive parents to marry a billionaire heir I had never met.
But on the day he returned to the country, I was shoved into a dark airport lounge during a security lockdown and violently assaulted by a stranger. Before I could even process the trauma, my husband's lawyers called.
"As per the strict fidelity clause, you will receive nothing."
My adoptive family cast me out in disgust. Weeks later, I discovered I was pregnant from that terrifying night. Penniless and alone, I fled to the mountains, nearly dying in a blizzard before giving birth to triplets. Six years later, I returned to New York just to finalize the divorce so my sons could get legal identities. But my five-year-old son, furious that his brother was bullied by a socialite, retaliated by disabling a billionaire's armored car.
I was dragged from my cheap motel room by bodyguards and thrown before the billionaire.
"Pay the half-million in damages, or I'll ensure your son gets a juvenile record."
Looking up, my breath caught. The man's strong jaw and sapphire-blue eyes were exact replicas of my sons' faces. He was the stranger from the dark lounge, and the very husband I was trying to divorce.
Yet he looked at me with pure contempt, entirely unaware that the woman he was extorting was his legal wife, and the boy he threatened was his own flesh and blood. I clenched my fists, realizing I was done running. The Dead Ex-Wife Returns With Twins
Modern I was in premature labor with twins when my husband's mistress bypassed our penthouse security during a blizzard.
Instead of calling for help, she tossed a document at me, proving my husband had just signed away my entire trust fund.
Then, she played an audio recording of my mother's oncologist confessing that her death wasn't an illness, but a paid assassination orchestrated by this very woman.
"Only one of us gets to be the lady of the estate."
I collapsed in a pool of my own blood, begging her to save my babies, but she just watched the snow and timed how long it would take for me to bleed out.
After my heart stopped on the operating table, she bribed the surgeon to falsify the medical records, declaring me and one of my newborn sons dead.
She stole my healthy baby boy right out of the incubator to secure her status in high society.
I survived that freezing night, losing my family and my identity, wondering how the man who claimed to love me could let a monster destroy my life and steal my child.
Five years later, I stepped out of the airport with my surviving son, no longer the vulnerable girl they left for dead.
I hacked into my husband's private server, drained ten million dollars from his offshore accounts, and wiped my tracks clean.
The war to reclaim my stolen child had officially begun. Bought By The Man Who Hates Me
Modern I sat at a mahogany table in River Oaks, clutching the strap of a pilled black dress from a life I’d lost five years ago. I was an exile in a world of old money, just trying to survive a dinner party I didn't belong in.
Then the doors opened, and Baron Lowery walked in. He was no longer the boy I’d loved, but a powerful man with eyes like a storm front. When the host asked if we’d met, Baron didn't even blink.
"I don't know her," he said.
The erasure was a physical blow. His new girlfriend spent the night mocking my "quaint" legal aid work and calling me a washed-up gold digger. Baron didn't defend me; he watched my humiliation with a cold, predatory stillness. During a game of Truth or Dare, he stared me down, waiting for a confession. To protect his career and the secret of my father’s federal crimes, I looked him in the eye and told the ultimate lie: "No regrets."
He retaliated by pinning me against a concrete wall in a dark stairwell, crushing his mouth to mine in a kiss that felt like a punishment. He told me I wasn't worth the effort and left me. I retreated to my real life—a moldy trailer and a blackmailer named Harvey who was forcing me into a marriage to save my father from prison.
I thought I’d hit rock bottom until Baron’s silver Bentley pulled up to my slum. He didn't come to apologize. He flipped open a checkbook, scribbled fifty thousand dollars, and held it out like I was a common streetwalker.
"One night," he demanded. "Do whatever I say, and it's yours."
I looked at the man I’d sacrificed my entire soul for and realized he’d finally become the monster I'd tried to save him from. I shoved the check back in his face and ran into the rain, leaving the billionaire staring at the trailer park, unable to understand why the "gold digger" he hated so much wouldn't take his money. The Billionaire's Rival: My Sweet Revenge
Modern I had spent two years playing the perfect Stepford Wife to billionaire Brittain Kane, acting as the obedient accessory while he built his empire. I played the fool until I found his second phone, the one filled with messages and photos of a nineteen-year-old hostess.
Determined to balance the scales, I checked into the Pierre Hotel and spent twenty-five thousand dollars to hire a high-end male escort. I wanted one night of rebellion to wash away the two years of humiliation and finally even the score.
But when the heavy footsteps stopped outside my door, the man who walked in wasn’t the professional I had booked. It was Harrison Juarez—my husband’s most ruthless business rival and supposed "best friend." He stood there in a suit that cost more than my car, holding a screenshot of my scandalous booking on his phone.
My blood turned to ice as I realized my carefully constructed exit plan was over. He had the proof, the leverage, and the power to leave me with nothing in a divorce. He mocked my "cheap courage" and told me that sleeping with a hired hand wouldn't hurt a man like Brittain; he’d just pay the guy off and buy me a new car to shut me up.
The fear inside me snapped, replaced by a cold, hard clarity. I looked at the man who held my life in his hands and realized he wasn't there to expose me. He was there because he was petty, effective, and wanted to destroy Brittain just as much as I did.
"If you really want to make Brittain Kane lose his mind," Harrison whispered, his voice rough against my ear, "you don't need a gigolo. You need me."
I didn't hesitate. I reached into my bag, pulled out my husband’s black Centurion card, and tossed it at my husband's greatest enemy. I told him to book the most expensive penthouse in the city, because if I was going to ruin my marriage, I was going to do it on Brittain’s dime with the one man he feared most. The Architect Who Rose From Ashes
Romance I died of a broken heart while my fiancé, Kade, was busy comforting his "best friend" over a cold.
When I opened my eyes, I was back at our engagement party, ten years in the past.
I didn't hesitate. I took off the ring and called it quits.
But Kyla wasn't letting go that easily. She deliberately ate a peanut cookie, faking a severe reaction to frame me.
Kade didn't ask questions. He looked at me with pure hatred.
"You monster! You knew she was allergic!"
He even blamed me for his driver's sudden heart attack, screaming that I was a murderer who deserved to be ruined.
I didn't defend myself. I didn't cry.
I simply boarded a plane to London and vanished from his life.
Thirteen years later, I returned as a world-renowned architect.
Kade, who had finally uncovered the truth and spent a decade in silent penance, fell to his knees begging for a second chance.
I looked at the man who had once been my world and smiled coldly.
"I forgive you, Kade. But the Harper who loved you is dead. You killed her yourself." Too Late For The Ruthless Don's Regret
Mafia The crystal chandelier swayed violently above the dinner table. In that fraction of a second, time seemed to stop.
My husband, Dante, didn't hesitate. He didn't reach for me.
He dove across the table, tackling his "fragile" first love, Mia, to the floor. He shielded her body with his own.
Gravity took over. The heavy metal slammed into my legs, crushing them instantly.
While I lay buried under the debris, bleeding into the beige carpet, Dante was screaming for a medic—because Mia had a paper cut.
It wasn't the first time he chose her. He had run my taxi off the road because she faked a fall. He gave her my dying father's antique rosary just because she thought it was a pretty accessory.
But the final blow wasn't physical.
While Dante was at a hotel comforting Mia through a "nightmare," he ignored the urgent calls to authorize my father's bone marrow transplant.
My father died alone of infection because Dante was too busy playing hero to a liar.
When Dante finally returned to the penthouse, expecting me to be waiting there to beg for his forgiveness, he found the house silent.
He found the signed divorce papers in the fireplace.
And then, he found the death certificate dated three days ago.
I didn't leave a note. I didn't leave a fight.
I just left him with the silence he deserved, and vanished into the night. From Unwanted Wife To Unreachable Queen
Mafia The day my guardian, Dante Moretti, announced his engagement was the day I started planning my death. Not a literal one, but the death of the girl who had orbited his world for ten years.
He was the Don of the Moretti family, the man I'd secretly loved since I was a child. But with his new fiancée, Sofia, on his arm, he began to erase me. He even forgot my severe allergy, gifting me a watch that would blister my skin.
He had ripped apart the diary where I confessed my love for him.
"I am your guardian," he'd spat. "Do not ever cross that line again."
Yet one night, drunk and stumbling, he crashed his mouth onto mine, his hands roaming my body as he pushed me against the wall.
He groaned, but the name that escaped his lips wasn't mine.
"Sofia..."
When I screamed my own name—Elara—he shoved me away in horror. He wasn't horrified by his betrayal, but by the fact that he'd kissed the wrong woman.
That was the final straw. I took the acceptance letter to a university in Toronto that I had kept hidden like a prayer. I called my estranged father and booked a one-way ticket. This time, I would burn my old life to the ground and leave nothing but ashes behind. The Unlucky Twin's Unseen Path
Romance From the moment I was born, a tiny, almost invisible birthmark behind my left ear sealed my fate. My mother, living by old superstitions, saw it as a bad omen, setting me apart from my identical twin, Sophia. She became the family favorite, showered with love and opportunity, while I became the "unlucky" one, living in her shadow with a nanny on a forgotten corner of our estate.
Then, the unimaginable happened: Liam Davis, the adopted son of a powerful political figure, was at our family dinner, when he was never supposed to be there. And Sophia, my identical twin, who was supposed to marry the tech CEO Ethan Vance, shocked everyone by declaring her choice: she would marry Liam Davis.
Sophia, with a smug, triumphant smile, later cornered me, "I told you I wanted your life. This time, I'm taking the right path from the beginning. Liam's power, his influence... it will all be mine. You can have the bankrupt tech genius." Her words chillingly confirmed it: she remembered everything from our first life, just like me.
In that past life, I was married off to Liam Davis, a cold, distant man whose political ambition was built on secrets and ruthless tactics. His rise to power was bloody, leaving me a shield against his enemies and enduring constant humiliation in the shadows. Sophia had seen only the glamorous result, not the treacherous path, blindly envying my hard-won position. She thought marrying Liam was her shortcut to the life she deserved.
Now, she believed she was seizing a better future, unaware that she was stepping into the very hell I had endured. She had chosen Liam, but she hadn't chosen the man he became with me. And I, the "unlucky" twin, was left with Ethan Vance, the supposed "bankrupt tech genius" destined for ruin.
But I refused to be a passive victim again. This time, I knew the game, and I understood Sophia' s blindness. She wanted my old life? She could have it. Because this time, I would choose my own path. And maybe, just maybe, this "failed" marriage might hold a secret I never anticipated. Fiancée's Fury, Sister's Shame
Modern The California sun felt like a fresh start, a golden promise for my new life as an architect in LA, working alongside my successful older brother, David.
But that promise shattered the moment my phone buzzed with an unknown number.
"So you' re the one," a cold voice sneered, "The little sister who' s trying to sleep with her brother."
My mind reeled. David, engaged? He never told me. And then this woman, Chloe, his fiancée, accused me of being a "homewrecker," her words laced with venom.
The next morning, she escalated, posting a photo of David and me in our office' s company-wide chat, publicly branding me as someone with "no shame."
"You' re not his 'sister.' You' re not related by blood at all," she broadcasted, twisting the truth of my adoption into a weapon, exposing our private family history to my new colleagues.
I turned to David, my protector, expecting him to defend me. Instead, he simply messaged, "Sarah, don' t engage. Just ignore it. You' re making it worse."
His inaction was a betrayal, a chilling realization that the brother I idolized was letting me be publicly humiliated, prioritizing "image" over my dignity.
What kind of monster would weaponize family history? And why was David, my anchor, abandoning me to the storm? I knew then that this wasn't just a jealous fiancée; this was a battle, and my cherished brother was on the wrong side. AI Love, Real Betrayal
Romance The final code for "True Love AI" glowed on my office monitor, a perfect symbol for my perfect life: successful tech CEO, marrying the woman I' ve loved for five years in seven days.
Then Olivia called, her voice flat, devoid of warmth. "Ethan, can you come home? We need to talk."
When I arrived, she dropped a bomb: she couldn' t marry me. She had to marry Daniel Reed, her ex-boyfriend, to fulfill his "deceased mother' s dying wish."
My world fractured. This multi-million dollar AI, this sprawling estate, our perfect future-all secondary to some archaic notion of filial piety. And then came the sting: she wanted me to fund their wedding, a casual request for $50,000 for "arrangements."
How could she betray me so utterly, and then demand I finance her new life? Could she truly be so cold, so transactional, after everything?
But as I stared at her audacious texts, a small detail from a shared photo clicked into place. If she saw my love as a tool for manipulation, then I, Ethan Miller, would return the favor. My wedding would proceed as planned, but she wouldn' t be the bride. The Toxic Inheritance: Sisters Forged in Fire
Sci-fi The crystal decanter felt heavy in my hand as I prepared to strike my sister, Gabby, believing she had betrayed our family.
Suddenly, glowing blue messages appeared before my eyes, revealing a shocking truth: I was being played, and my brother Ethan and our supposed sister Nicole were orchestrating a cruel frame-up.
My world shattered as I watched them feign innocence, and Ethan, caught in his lie, spitefully ordered Gabby to be locked in the terrifying wine cellar, a place of profound trauma for her.
The realization that I had been a blind participant in my family' s monstrous charade, that I had stood by while Gabby was tormented, hit me like a physical blow.
But seeing Gabby's pure terror, and knowing Ethan had tortured her for weeks, something cold and sharp hardened inside me: I was done feeling guilty; I was going to turn her into a weapon. You might like
Shielded By The Ruthless Military Boss
Mo Yufei I was an intern nurse working exhausting shifts, yet my mother constantly forced me into blind dates with wealthy, arrogant men to secure our family's social standing.
During a terrifying hospital lockdown, an assassin disguised as a doctor held a scalpel to my throat. I was almost killed, but a high-ranking military colonel threw his own body down a flight of concrete stairs to shield me.
I survived with cuts and bruises, but when I went home, my mother didn't care about my near-death experience. She was only furious that I had rushed out on my blind date with Preston, a rich financial analyst.
She forced me to meet him to apologize. When Preston grabbed my arm, bruised me, and mocked my attack as a pathetic lie, my mother still took his side.
"Men get angry," she told me coldly. "It's your job not to provoke them. You will beg for his forgiveness, or you are no longer welcome in this house."
I had narrowly escaped an assassin, yet my own family was willing to feed me to a monster just for a fat paycheck and neighborhood gossip.
My heart went completely dead.
So, when the intimidating Colonel appeared, offering me maximum military protection through a sudden marriage, I didn't hesitate.
I walked back into my parents' house and calmly slapped a crisp marriage certificate onto the coffee table.
"I won't be apologizing to Preston. I got married today." Flash Marriage To My Best Friend's Father
Madel Cerda I was once the heiress to the Solomon empire, but after it crumbled, I became the "charity case" ward of the wealthy Hyde family. For years, I lived in their shadows, clinging to the promise that Anson Hyde would always be my protector.
That promise shattered when Anson walked into the ballroom with Claudine Chapman on his arm. Claudine was the girl who had spent years making my life a living hell, and now Anson was announcing their engagement to the world.
The humiliation was instant. Guests sneered at my cheap dress, and a waiter intentionally sloshed champagne over me, knowing I was a nobody. Anson didn't even look my way; he was too busy whispering possessively to his new fiancée. I was a ghost in my own home, watching my protector celebrate with my tormentor.
The betrayal burned. I realized I wasn't a ward; I was a pawn Anson had kept on a shelf until he found a better trade. I had no money, no allies, and a legal trust fund that Anson controlled with a flick of his wrist.
Fleeing to the library, I stumbled into Dallas Koch-a titan of industry and my best friend's father. He was a wall of cold, absolute power that even the Hydes feared.
"Marry me," I blurted out, desperate to find a shield Anson couldn't climb.
Dallas didn't laugh. He pulled out a marriage agreement and a heavy fountain pen.
"Sign," he commanded, his voice a low rumble. "But if you walk out that door with me, you never go back."
I signed my name, trading my life for the only man dangerous enough to keep me safe. While I Was Bleeding Out, He Lit Lanterns For Her
Katie Oettgen As I lay on the floor of our manor, bleeding out from a ruptured ectopic pregnancy, I used my last ounce of strength to call my husband, Cole.
I begged him for help, my vision blurring.
But the only thing I heard was the clinking of champagne glasses and his mistress's giggle in the background.
"Stop the drama, June," Cole snapped, his voice cold. "We're about to go on stage. Don't call again."
He hung up, leaving me to die alone on the Persian rug while he accepted an award with another woman on his arm.
I woke up in the hospital days later. My baby was gone. They had removed my fallopian tube.
Cole finally arrived, smelling of expensive scotch and his mistress's perfume. He didn't hug me. He didn't cry.
Instead, he leaned over my hospital bed, pressing his knee into the mattress until my fresh stitches tore open and bled.
"You embarrassed me by calling an ambulance," he hissed. "My mistress, Alycia, says you're faking it. Clean yourself up."
He left me bleeding again to go announce a $10 million donation to Alycia's "groundbreaking" medical research.
I stared at the TV screen, numb. The research Alycia was taking credit for? It was mine. I wrote that patent years ago under a pseudonym.
They thought I was just a poor, orphan housewife who needed Cole's money to survive.
They had no idea I was actually a billionaire scientist hiding my identity.
I pulled the IV needle out of my arm. A drop of blood fell onto the divorce papers I had been hiding.
I didn't wipe it off. I signed my name right over it.
Then I walked into the bank, reactivated my dormant account with $128 million, and bought the penthouse directly overlooking Cole's house.
The mourning widow is dead. The avenger is born. One Night With My Billionaire Boss
Nathaniel Stone I woke up on silk sheets that smelled of expensive cedar and cold sandalwood, a world away from my cramped apartment in Brooklyn.
Beside me lay Ezra Gardner-my boss, the billionaire CEO of Gardner Holdings, and the man who could end my career with a snap of his fingers.
He didn't offer an apology for the night before; instead, he looked at me with terrifying clarity and proposed a cold, calculated business arrangement.
"Marriage. It stabilizes the board and solves the PR crisis before it begins."
He dressed me in archival Chanel and sent me home in his Maybach, but my life was already falling apart. My boyfriend, Irving, claimed he had passed out early, yet his location data placed him at my best friend's apartment until three in the morning. When I tried to run, I realized Ezra was already ten steps ahead, tracking my movements and uncovering the secret I'd spent twenty years hiding: my connection to the powerful Senator Grimes.
I was trapped between a CEO who treated me like a line item on a quarterly report and a boyfriend who had been using me while sleeping with my closest friend. I felt like a pawn in a game I didn't understand, wondering why a man like Ezra would walk up forty flights of stairs on a broken leg just to make sure I was safe.
"Showtime, Mrs. Gardner."
Standing on the red carpet in a gown that cost more than my life, I watched my cheating ex-boyfriend's face turn pale as Ezra claimed me in front of the world. I wasn't just an assistant anymore; I was a weapon, and it was time to burn their world down. Too Late, Mr. CEO: Watch Me Shine
Nieves Gómez Kayla stood outside the CEO suite, holding a custom suit for her fiancé, Brennon. They had spent seven years building a tech company from a freezing garage into a billion-dollar empire.
But through the cracked door, she heard the breathy laugh of Evelin, the newly hired director. Then came Brennon's low, careless voice.
"The wedding's a PR milestone for the IPO, nothing more."
Kayla's blood turned to ice.
"She's comfortable. Makes sense on paper," Brennon continued. "But you, Evelin. You understand ambition."
The betrayal hit her like a physical blow. She had written the core code that made him a billionaire. She had stayed up until 4 AM debugging while he slept on a futon. Now, he was mocking their relationship to his mistress and handing over her life's work to a woman who couldn't even read a data log.
Seven years of loyalty, reduced to a PR stunt. She didn't cry. Instead, a cold, violent clarity washed over her. Why should she let him keep the crown she forged?
Without a word, she pulled the three-carat diamond off her finger and dropped it into her bag. She walked out of the building, drafted her resignation, and accepted a VP position at his biggest Wall Street rival. It was time to show Brennon what happened when the real genius behind his empire decided to tear it down. Pampered By The Cold Mind Reading Tycoon
Hen Bu I woke up from a coma in the hospital, universally condemned as the vicious daughter who pushed the beloved fake heiress, Georgina, down the stairs.
My ruthless billionaire brother, Angelo, stood over my bed with cold eyes, ready to destroy me for hurting his precious sister.
But as I looked at him, a terrifying prophecy from my coma flooded my brain. Our entire family was doomed.
In the original timeline, Georgina would team up with corporate rivals to bankrupt the company, frame Angelo, and send him to federal prison, while our parents would abandon me to die miserably.
Lying there, I didn't dare speak. I just desperately cursed my idiot brother in my head.
"This stupid brother is still yelling at me for that fake heiress. He doesn't even know he's going to be framed and sent to prison next month!"
I just wanted to stay quiet, let them ruin themselves, and run away from this toxic family.
But strangely, Angelo didn't strangle me. Instead, his attitude took a shocking turn.
He abruptly fired the driver plotting to kill him, destroyed the abusive fiancé of a family ally, and publicly humiliated Georgina at a high-society gala.
He even shielded me from our abusive parents, declaring to the world that I was the only sister he would ever protect.
I was completely terrified and confused. Why was the tyrant brother suddenly acting like a protective beast?
It wasn't until he flawlessly crushed a massive corporate attack using the exact financial secrets I had just complained about in my mind that a horrifying realization hit me.
He could hear my inner thoughts! Bought The Billionaire For One Night
Cait A week before my wedding, I went to the airport parking garage to surprise my fiancé with a luxury watch.
Instead, I caught him having sex in his car with my best friend and maid of honor.
Devastated and desperate to forget, I went to an exclusive club and blew my $50,000 trust fund to buy a one-night stand with a gorgeous stranger.
But the nightmare was just beginning.
At work, my cheating best friend stole my hard-earned promotion, and my ex shamelessly defended her.
Worse, the escort I had paid for sex turned out to be the ruthless new CEO of my airline.
He tormented me on a flight to Paris. When I was robbed of my passport and wallet on the freezing streets, he forced me to be his gala date just to get my life back.
But the ultimate trap was waiting for me in New York.
A secretly taken photo of me leaving the CEO's penthouse leaked on the company forum.
"I knew she got that Paris trip for a reason."
My ex and my former best friend led the charge in the comments, framing me as a shameless gold digger who slept her way to the top.
I was stripped of my flying credentials, suspended from the job I loved, and publicly humiliated.
I didn't understand why the CEO was playing these cruel games, or who had orchestrated this perfect trap to ruin my life.
Standing outside the airport with my career in ashes, I realized crying wouldn't save me.
I wiped my tears, accepted my mother's invitation to a high-society mixer, and prepared to make everyone who set me up pay the price. Too Late: The Masked Heiress Returns
Annabell Seto Chloe Beaumont's adopted sister, Victoria, handed her a glass of champagne with a sweet smile right before the violent car crash.
Victoria and Chloe's fiancé, Asher, left her in the freezing rain with broken ribs and a dislocated arm, certain she would die.
When Chloe dragged her bleeding, mud-caked body back to the estate three days later, her family didn't offer a shred of comfort.
Instead, Victoria squeezed out fake tears, claiming Chloe had gone insane.
"Mother! Chloe came back and started saying these crazy things, and then she attacked me!"
Her stepmother slapped her, her brothers called her a disgrace, and her father coldly watched as they accused Chloe of faking her horrific wounds for attention.
They even conspired to marry her off to a dying, reclusive heir just to clear the path for Victoria's grand engagement.
Looking at their disgusted faces, Chloe's usually warm eyes turned to ice.
She finally understood that her own family never cared if she lived or died; they only wanted her out of the way.
But she wasn't the weak, naive girl they thought they had broken.
Using her hidden skills, Chloe meticulously painted a grotesque, permanent-looking burn scar across her cheek.
She picked the lock of her bedroom door and headed straight for Victoria and Asher's lavish engagement party.
If they wanted to treat her like a ruined monster, she would use that mask to tear their perfect, glittering world to shreds. 
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