Duwu Qingyang
16 Published Stories
Duwu Qingyang's Books and Stories
The Wife He Forgot, The Fury She Unleashed
Horror The sterile white ceiling of the hospital room was the first thing I saw when I woke up, a dull ache throbbing at the back of my head.
The kind nurse told me I' d fainted at the clinic, and that my son, Leo, was in the pediatric ICU.
My son. Leo. The name alone brought back a flood of terrifying memories: his pale, sweaty face, his eyes wide with a terror that seemed to swallow the light.
And Jake' s voice, cold and hard: "My son shouldn' t be weak and afraid of the dark! His bad habits need to be cured."
I, no, Ava Miller, as I had been for the last five years, had clawed at the locked therapy room door.
"Leo is terrified of the dark, and extreme fright can be fatal. If you need to punish someone, punish me…"
Jake just laughed, his arm around Chloe Davis, the woman he claimed was the "real" Ava Miller, the one who needed a kidney.
A news report on a private island wedding flashed on the hospital TV: "Billionaire heir Jake Hayes is celebrating his wedding to Chloe Davis."
Chloe Davis. My name. The name I hadn't heard in five years.
Memories crashed down, violent and agonizing: a rainy night, a car accident, my mother' s terrified face, and then Jake, whispering "You' re Ava Miller. You were in an accident. You need a kidney. You feel so guilty, don't you?"
He had twisted everything. He wanted my kidney for the real Ava Miller.
He stole my identity, my health, my memories. And now, he had stolen my son.
Leo.
"Mom… if I overcome my fear… will Dad love me?"
His voice message, garbled and frantic, echoed in my mind.
Rage pulsed through me. I was Chloe Davis. The woman on that island, wearing my name, had my kidney. And they were trying to steal my son.
I ripped the IV from my arm. I had to get to Leo.
When I found him, his chest wasn't moving. His eyes were wide open, fixed in terror.
My mother-in-law, Eleanor, who had once pitied me, was sobbing.
"Mom," I said, my voice flat, holding back tears. "I remember everything. I am Chloe Davis. It' s time for me to leave."
His eyes finally, slowly, drifted shut as I whispered, "Mommy's here, Leo. Mommy will take you away from here. We'll go somewhere far away, and we'll be together forever."
The nurse in the hallway sighed, envying Jake Hayes's "love."
If only they knew that his real wife and son, lying dead in a hospital bed, couldn' t earn a fraction of that look.
Not even in death.
Later, in the house I had shared with Jake, I held Leo's urn tightly.
Jake and Ava Miller were on the sofa.
"Did you leave Leo with my mom again?" he asked, a condescending edge to his voice. "Bring him back to apologize to his aunt immediately."
I turned to him, my eyes direct.
I articulated each word with chilling clarity.
"Leo is dead." Phoenix Heat, A Wife's Cold Vengeance
Modern During a brutal Phoenix heatwave, my husband unplugged our AC and fridge, claiming we were broke and needed to save every penny for our unborn twins.
But I discovered he had frozen our joint accounts to fund a lavish lifestyle for his mistress, buying her designer bags and a heavily air-conditioned luxury apartment.
When I started bleeding heavily and begged him for twenty dollars for a cab to the hospital, he just laughed.
"You're just trying to manipulate me. Drink some hot water and stop being so dramatic."
He hung up on me.
Dragging my bleeding body down six flights of stairs, I saw him through the glass of a premium birthing center, happily paying for his mistress's care.
I lost my twins alone in a public ER, opting for a D&C without anesthesia just to carve the betrayal into my bones.
When he came home and saw my blood-soaked clothes, he actually looked relieved when I lied that it was just a heavy period.
I didn't scream or cry. I just quietly slipped the signed divorce papers into the lining of his new designer suit, ready to make him pay. The Alpha I Dumped Is Now Begging Me to Return
Romance I gave my fiancé, Prince Caiden, my family's military token as a symbol of my absolute trust.
Not long after the Moon Festival banquet, I woke up chained to a cold dungeon wall.
I thought he would come to save me, but he walked in with my sister Anais, looking at me with cold disgust.
He told me my usefulness as a weak Omega was over, and that he only ever wanted my pack's power.
"A powerful Alpha needs a partner who can stand with him, not a useless burden like you."
Caiden whipped my skin raw while my sister gloated in his arms.
Then, Anais plunged a silver dagger into my heart, whispering a secret that shattered my soul.
She told me my mother and ten-year-old brother didn't die by accident.
They had slowly poisoned my mother, and carved out my little brother's beating heart as a sacrifice for Caiden's empire.
I died watching my home burn to ash, filled with endless, suffocating regret.
I had fallen in love with my family's executioner and shown kindness to the vipers who slaughtered my bloodline.
Why was I so blind? Why did I trust them with my life?
Opening my eyes again, I was back in my sunlit bedroom, exactly one day before the Moon Festival banquet.
This time, I will make them repay their blood debt, piece by painful piece. Betrayed By The Queen: A Don's Revenge
Mafia I washed my hands of blood and gave up my undisputed underworld throne to build my wife, Lucia, a pristine corporate empire.
But tonight, I caught her male secretary breaking into my encrypted mafia files.
Instead of punishing the rat for breaching Omertà, Lucia shielded him behind her back and demanded I apologize to him.
"You are acting like a street thug, not a husband."
She called my mafia heritage a toxic paranoia and threatened to freeze my access to the very accounts I created.
When the secretary shattered my late mother's priceless emerald heirloom, she protected him again, telling me to stop acting like a savage over a piece of jewelry.
She even stood by while he mocked the unspeakable torture I had willingly endured in a cartel basement years ago just to secure her safe release.
For five long years, I played the quiet, supportive husband, taking bullets and laundering funds to give her a legitimate crown.
Yet she chose to hand the keys of our empire to a treacherous parasite, dismissing the blood I spilled for her as dirt.
I looked at the woman I had once sworn an eternal blood oath to protect, feeling the last thread of my humanity snap.
I felt no grief, only a profound and cold clarity as I realized my sacrifices meant absolutely nothing.
"Our blood oath is dead, Lucia."
I signed the annulment papers, liquidated every cent of the blood money backing her company, and threw her to the wolves. The Jilted Ex-Wife's Undercover Billionaire Assistant
Billionaires Carlee signed the divorce papers without a second of hesitation, ending a three-year marriage to a billionaire husband she had never even met.
She walked away with nothing, publicly cutting ties with both the Vaughan empire and her toxic family to launch her own jewelry design studio.
Her family immediately retaliated. They mocked her as a useless, abandoned trophy wife and ruthlessly blacklisted her new company from every major supplier in the city, intent on forcing her to crawl back.
Exhausted but defiant, she hired a handsome, seemingly broke valet she bumped into outside a hotel to be her personal assistant.
She even bought him a tailored suit, pitying his maxed-out credit cards and his desperate need for a paycheck.
But things quickly stopped making sense.
Why did this humble assistant possess such lethal combat skills, effortlessly snapping a two-hundred-pound bodyguard's wrist to protect her?
And why did top-tier luxury store managers bow to him in absolute, trembling terror?
"Whatever is happening, I will handle it."
Carlee found a foolish comfort in her poor assistant's reassuring voice.
She had absolutely no idea that the man sitting at the wobbly desk in her cramped office was Braden Vaughan—her legally divorced ex-husband. And the ruthless billionaire was currently orchestrating a global financial massacre from the shadows, entirely obsessed with clearing her path to the top. The Placeholder Wife: A Twin's Deceit
Modern My fiancé, Jameson Blair, married my twin sister today. For five years, I was a placeholder, a substitute for the woman he truly wanted, and I pretended not to know.
Today, she came back with a story of terminal cancer and a dying wish to marry him. It was a perfect lie, and he chose to believe it, shattering my world with three simple words: "She's Haleigh."
They left me on the sidewalk, an outcast from my own blood. My brothers, who once promised to protect me, celebrated the woman who broke me. They moved my things to a guest room, making space for their prodigal sister. That night, Haleigh gave me a "welcome home" gift—a box with a brown recluse spider inside.
As the venom coursed through me, my family rushed to her side, calling my agony "a little spider bite." They left me convulsing on the floor. Later, they whipped me for a crime I didn't commit, hung me off a cliff, and left me for dead.
My body is a roadmap of their love. Each scar, each broken bone, is a testament to their betrayal. They believed her lies, but their real crime was never truly seeing me.
As I clung to that cliff, bleeding and broken, a single thought consumed me: Isabella Douglas died here tonight. Now, Isabella Hale would be born from the ashes. Too Late For Regret: The Assistant's Revenge
Modern For three years, Christina was Jackson Booker’s flawless executive assistant by day and his secret lover by night.
That was until she overheard him planning his high-profile marriage to heiress Carson Wall, casually telling his partners that Christina would be easily disposed of.
"Once the merger is finalized, I'll cut her a severance check. It's a non-issue."
When she tried to resign, Jackson tore up her letter, forcefully assaulted her in his private elevator, and declared she was his property.
The nightmare only escalated. At a corporate gala, Jackson literally handed her over to a sleazy, violent client just to secure a logistics contract.
"Mr. Boggs is a VIP guest, Christina. Don't disappoint him."
While Jackson walked away, the client dragged her into a hotel room and attempted to assault her. She barely escaped with her life, saved only by Jackson's powerful rival, Gaston Carter.
But the ultimate humiliation came the next morning. Jackson's new fiancée, Carson, cornered Christina in the office. Carson knew everything. She deliberately pressed her manicured fingers into the fresh, dark bruises on Christina's shoulder, smiling sweetly.
"You are a stress-relief toy, Christina. A dirty little secret he keeps on the payroll. And now that I am here, your playtime is over."
Christina couldn't understand how the man she loved could treat her like a disposable animal, allowing his bride to torture her for sport.
As she sat on the cold floor, her phone buzzed with a text from Gaston.
"Let me know when you are ready to stop being a victim."
The crushing despair in her chest ignited into a hot, burning fury. She picked up her phone and typed back.
"I'm ready. Where do we meet?" The Silent Bride's Forced Tech Marriage
Modern I was the "broken" daughter of the Winters family, a mute girl hidden away in a conservatory while our legacy rotted. To my parents, I wasn't a person—I was a liability they couldn't wait to liquidate.
The betrayal came in a cold study. My grandfather sold me to Florian Mercado, the most ruthless shark in Silicon Valley, as collateral for a secret ledger. I wasn't a bride; I was a business acquisition.
The humiliation started at the courthouse. My mother smeared bloody red lipstick on my face like a brand, and Florian signed our marriage license with enough force to tear the paper. He looked at me with pure disgust, seeing a "defective product" he’d been tricked into buying.
He threw me into his high-tech penthouse, a smart-home prison where everything was voice-activated. Because I couldn't speak, I couldn't even open the fridge. I was left starving in the dark for days while he ignored my existence.
At a high-society gala, he finally cornered me. In front of a swarm of paparazzi, he forced me to sign a legal declaration of my own mental instability. He didn't just want my family's secrets; he wanted to own my very sanity, publicly branding me a "fragile" bride to strip me of my rights.
I sat in that glass cage, burning with a rage they never saw coming. They thought my silence was a weakness, a blank space they could fill with their own cruelty. They forgot that a vault is silent for a reason—it’s protecting the only thing that matters.
I shoved my tablet into Florian’s chest, revealing the truth: I had every illegal account number and encryption key from the secret ledger memorized since I was twelve. I gave him a choice: sign my new terms, or watch me leak the data and turn his billion-dollar empire into a federal prison sentence.
"Deal," he whispered, finally seeing the predator behind my quiet eyes. The war had just begun. My Husband's Deadly Double Life
Modern I was the top financial analyst on the network, my predictions legendary. But one morning, my husband, Augustus, and his intern mistress, Baylee, orchestrated a live-on-air sabotage that vaporized my career.
I was forced onto a leave of absence, only to be called back to prep Baylee-the very woman replacing me.
That night, an anonymous text arrived. It was an audio file from years ago: Baylee' s panicked voice confessing to a hit-and-run, and Augustus' s calm voice promising to cover it up.
The victim was my mother. The accident that left her crippled wasn't an accident at all. My husband, the man who comforted me, had protected her attacker all along.
He thought he had broken me. But as I listened to their lies, I knew my old life was over. I picked up the phone and called my old mentor.
"Eliot," I said, my voice shaking with rage. "I'm ready to sue. I'm taking everything from them." Cast Out, Then Called Back
Modern The day my world fell apart was my 21st birthday, meant for joy and family warmth. Instead, it brought the stinging heat of a slap across my cheek.
My older brothers, Ethan and Liam, surprised our family by bringing home Lily, a seven-year-old orphan, daughter of a student who died alongside our revered parents in an accident that orphaned us as well. They saw her as a duty, showering her with the affection that had once been mine.
On my birthday, the day I was supposed to feel special, Lily had a little "accident"-a glass of milk spilled on my laptop, destroying years of my medical research. Lily cried, claiming I had pushed her. Ethan' s cold voice, "Anna, what is wrong with you?" was followed by his hand cracking across my face. Liam, usually gentle, pointed a shaking finger at the door: "Get out. Don't ever come back."
They believed Lily, condemning me without a second thought. I was cast out, a stranger in my own home, dismissed as dramatic. Their blind devotion to her twisted everything between us, turning love into an unbearable weight of betrayal.
While they took Lily on the Northern Lights trip they had promised me, I signed away the next ten years of my life. Days later, they would receive a formal letter: Anna Miller had been accepted into a confidential, ten-year medical research program, in complete isolation. She could no longer come home. The Malice of the Almost-In-Laws
Modern A romantic getaway, a beautiful Texas hotel, my fiancé Kevin by my side—it should have been perfect.
I thought our future was set.
Then searing pain hit.
A ruptured ovarian cyst, internal bleeding.
I was dying.
Kevin?
He ignored my pleas, focused on a non-refundable hotel, dismissing my agony as 'period cramps' before I ended our engagement and called an Uber to the ER.
But his cruelty didn't end there.
From my hospital bed, I learned he'd slandered me online as a 'drama queen.'
Then, his mother stormed my office, scattering AI-generated fake intimate photos, trying to shame me publicly.
My life was falling apart, not from my illness, but from their calculated malice.
How could the man I almost married, and his family, be so vindictive, so determined to destroy me, the actual victim?
They thought I was broken.
But I was just getting started.
I exposed their lies, saw his mom arrested.
And when Kevin, desperate and armed with a knife, tried to manipulate me in front of everyone, threatening self-harm to escape consequences, I didn't just stand there.
I gave him a taste of his own drama.
I faked a surgical emergency, turning the crowd, and the cops, squarely on him.
This wasn't just about survival; it was about turning the tables completely. Chem 101: Blind Justice
Modern I was Ethan, a PhD candidate, proctoring the Chem 101 final, my future in chemistry looking bright.
Then, without warning, the exam sheet blurred, students' faces dissolved, and my vision vanished into impenetrable darkness.
My world went black, doctors found no cause, and my promising academic career evaporated into years of navigating a sightless existence, a struggle that culminated in my murder at a community fair, just moments after I shockingly overheard an arrogant student, Mark Jensen, boast that my inexplicable blindness was the best thing that ever happened to him.
To die senselessly, just as I' d found the answer to why my life was stolen, was an unbearable injustice.
But then, I blinked, and the fluorescent lights of the Chem 101 exam room flashed above me once more, the clock ticking down to the very moment my world first went dark. You Can't Kill What's Already Dead
Fantasy My eyes burned, another all-nighter done, just like the thousand others I'd pulled for my demanding wife, Brittany, and her "successful" friend, Marcus.
Then, darkness.
I woke up floating, looking down at my own wake, my grieving parents, and in a corner, Brittany and Marcus — she wasn't crying, she was relieved, nestled in his arms.
"The Prosperity Bond is a marvelous thing," Marcus murmured, his lips brushing her ear, "It took his earnings, his life force, and multiplied it for me. Tenfold."
My breath caught in my spectral throat, my entire life's work, my very essence, stolen and sold by the two people I trusted most, fueling their lavish lifestyle as it drained me dry.
The betrayal was a jagged blade, twisting in my non-existent gut, leaving behind only the cold, sharp fury of pure, white-hot rage.
Suddenly, blinding sunlight hit my face; I gasped, sitting bolt upright in my own bed, alive, solid, on the very morning of the car crash that killed me, armed with the horrifying truth.
"Ethan! Get up! You're going to be late for that presentation!" Brittany's voice, sharp as ever, cut through the silence, but this time, I wasn't just hearing a nagging wife—I was hearing a co-conspirator plotting my demise, and my patience was gone. The Quiet Girl’s Roar
Modern Sarah Miller had spent three years engaged to Jake Mitchell, her life quietly devoted to their struggling Texas ranch under the shadow of his family’s loan.
Most folks saw her as just a quiet country girl, sweet and a little sheltered, her secret passion for barrel racing hidden from judgmental eyes.
Then, Jake returned from Dallas, not alone, but with Tiffany, a flashy rodeo hanger-on who immediately made her presence known.
He brutally broke off their engagement, dismissing Sarah and her "quiet farm ways," smugly declaring she’d "never understand the adrenaline of the rodeo arena."
Adding insult to injury, he'd given Tiffany Sarah’s most cherished heirloom: her grandmother’s silver dollar bolo tie.
When Sarah dared to ask for it back at a pre-Fair party, Tiffany, with a scornful smirk and Jake’s tacit approval, snapped the tie’s cord, sending the precious silver dollar clattering to the floor, dented and broken.
“It’s just a thing, Sarah,” Jake carelessly remarked, offering to buy a new one, utterly oblivious to the depth of her hurt and the heirloom’s meaning.
The public humiliation and blatant disrespect burned, turning Sarah’s heartbreak into a simmering fury she’d never known.
They thought she was weak, easily managed, a charitable case with no fire.
But Jake's condescending words about "adrenaline" had struck a chord.
She would show them.
She would take back her power and her identity.
Tonight, under the bright lights of the County Fair, Sarah Miller would unleash her secret talent, and with her trusted horse, Dust Devil, prove just how much adrenaline she truly possessed. From Gilded Cage to Silver Medal
Romance Ava Hayes lived a life that glittered like ice, a promising figure skater poised for the U.S. Figure Skating Championships, coached by an ambitious mother and partnered with the charming Ethan Vance.
Then she woke up, not from a dream, but from a terrifying, crystal-clear memory of a future that hadn't happened yet—a future where her partner, her rival, and her own mother combined forces to publicly shatter her career.
She remembered the disastrous flameout, the chilling smiles, the calculated betrayals, seeing herself broken, humiliated, quitting everything she ever loved, vanishing from the sport that defined her.
The ache in her head wasn't from a fall; it was the raw, sickening wound of a betrayal so deep it stole her very identity and left her wondering how the people closest to her could orchestrate such a cruel downfall.
But this time, the disaster was still weeks away. Armed with the painful blueprint of her past self's ruin, Ava Hayes found a new, cold resolve, determined to break free from her gilded cage and reclaim her future, starting now. You might like
The Wife He Forgot, The Fury She Unleashed
Duwu Qingyang The sterile white ceiling of the hospital room was the first thing I saw when I woke up, a dull ache throbbing at the back of my head.
The kind nurse told me I' d fainted at the clinic, and that my son, Leo, was in the pediatric ICU.
My son. Leo. The name alone brought back a flood of terrifying memories: his pale, sweaty face, his eyes wide with a terror that seemed to swallow the light.
And Jake' s voice, cold and hard: "My son shouldn' t be weak and afraid of the dark! His bad habits need to be cured."
I, no, Ava Miller, as I had been for the last five years, had clawed at the locked therapy room door.
"Leo is terrified of the dark, and extreme fright can be fatal. If you need to punish someone, punish me…"
Jake just laughed, his arm around Chloe Davis, the woman he claimed was the "real" Ava Miller, the one who needed a kidney.
A news report on a private island wedding flashed on the hospital TV: "Billionaire heir Jake Hayes is celebrating his wedding to Chloe Davis."
Chloe Davis. My name. The name I hadn't heard in five years.
Memories crashed down, violent and agonizing: a rainy night, a car accident, my mother' s terrified face, and then Jake, whispering "You' re Ava Miller. You were in an accident. You need a kidney. You feel so guilty, don't you?"
He had twisted everything. He wanted my kidney for the real Ava Miller.
He stole my identity, my health, my memories. And now, he had stolen my son.
Leo.
"Mom… if I overcome my fear… will Dad love me?"
His voice message, garbled and frantic, echoed in my mind.
Rage pulsed through me. I was Chloe Davis. The woman on that island, wearing my name, had my kidney. And they were trying to steal my son.
I ripped the IV from my arm. I had to get to Leo.
When I found him, his chest wasn't moving. His eyes were wide open, fixed in terror.
My mother-in-law, Eleanor, who had once pitied me, was sobbing.
"Mom," I said, my voice flat, holding back tears. "I remember everything. I am Chloe Davis. It' s time for me to leave."
His eyes finally, slowly, drifted shut as I whispered, "Mommy's here, Leo. Mommy will take you away from here. We'll go somewhere far away, and we'll be together forever."
The nurse in the hallway sighed, envying Jake Hayes's "love."
If only they knew that his real wife and son, lying dead in a hospital bed, couldn' t earn a fraction of that look.
Not even in death.
Later, in the house I had shared with Jake, I held Leo's urn tightly.
Jake and Ava Miller were on the sofa.
"Did you leave Leo with my mom again?" he asked, a condescending edge to his voice. "Bring him back to apologize to his aunt immediately."
I turned to him, my eyes direct.
I articulated each word with chilling clarity.
"Leo is dead." ENRAGED SOUL
otu Harriet Laura was a bold, courageous, gorgeous, intelligent young lady who always stood out for herself. She always fought for her right and never allowed anyone to look down on her , her family nor her friends.
She was known as the most brilliant and talented student in her class. This irritated some of her mates and led to the plot of her attack to tame her.
" Hold her, let's see how her intelligence works this time...", Ben exclaimed, landing a huge slap on her cheek.
Patrick and Fred held her tightly, chuckling and teasing.
They molested and bullied her until she passed out.
" Wait, Ben, I think we killed her....", Fred cried
" Shut up, what do you know? She's just doing that to scare us...."
" No, Ben...I think he's right...we killed her..."
" Oh, my God...what should we do..."
Join me on this journey while we find out what they did to her body and the outcome of their action.
ENRAGED SOUL;The revenge of a traumatized girl My Family's Faith, My Bloody Fate
Landslide It started on the one-year anniversary of my return, a day meant for joy.
Instead, my family, devout and God-fearing, brutally murdered me.
My brother, my protector, became a "defiler" screaming monster, my father, a man of God, cut off my hand with a rusty saw, and my mother, once overjoyed, called me an "abomination."
They threw my bleeding body into a silo, sealing the hatch, and as I died, I only had one question: Why?
It was the locket. The small, carved wooden locket my sister, Esther, had given me moments before, a "welcome home" gift that instantly turned my loving family into rabid killers.
Somehow, I woke up. It' s the same day, the same anniversary. Esther is coming up the stairs, the locket in her hand, about to give me the gift that will trigger their bloodlust again.
This time, I refuse. But Esther is cunning, and soon, I'm dodging my family's crazed attacks, desperately trying to expose their dark beliefs to the authorities. They look at me like I' m simply a troubled girl with an overzealous family.
Knowing the law won't stop their fanaticism, I have no choice but to use their own twisted faith against them, no matter the cost, to finally break free. I Tamed the Monster He Sent
Luo Chengfeng The last thing I saw was Thunder’s bloodied jaws, closing in on me.
My daughter, Sophia, lay broken a few feet away, already gone.
Pain, then darkness.
Then, with a gasp, I bolted upright, my heart hammering like a drum.
I was back on the same rough porch, facing the same smug smirk of Old John.
At the end of his chain was Thunder, the Australian Cattle Dog who had butchered my child and me.
“Heard you were back in town, Isabella,” Old John rasped, his voice a cruel mockery of a welcome.
“Brought you a little housewarming gift,” he added, pulling the chain as Thunder whined, straining to reach me, just like that first time.
The memory crashed over me: Thunder’s lunge, the searing agony as his teeth tore my thigh, the hot gush of blood, and then, Sophia’s petrified screams followed by chilling silence as he turned to her.
Old John had known my paralyzing fear of dogs, yet he had specifically brought this hulking beast to torment me.
He had laughed when I pleaded, ignoring the danger, using the dog as his personal weapon.
Every horrifying detail, every agonizing moment of Sophia’s brutal death and my own demise, flooded my mind with chilling clarity.
But this time, as Thunder lunged forward once more, I forced my trembling legs to stop.
No. Not again.
This time, things would be different. Reborn to Reign: A Mother's Fury
ffssg My name is Sarah, and I remember the cold.
Not the chill of winter, but the stainless-steel table against my back.
My sons, Michael and Gabriel, were gone, their screams replaced by silence.
My husband David, blinded by ambition, led us to that abandoned clinic.
His sister, Veronica, craved an heir for her powerful husband, Senator Harrison.
She believed my "Legacy Fertility" and my children's "vital essence" could help her.
A quack "expert" performed monstrous acts on my seven-year-old twins.
Then it was my turn; they brutally harvested my ovarian tissue.
I was left to bleed out on a filthy floor, my insides torn.
I died there, a vow of revenge frozen on my lips.
Later, I saw Veronica on the news, pregnant and glowing with what she stole.
But then, warmth. Sunlight.
My eyes snapped open to my own familiar bedroom.
Michael was on my chest, Gabriel curled beside me, both alive, young, and whole.
The calendar read October 14th—the very day it all began.
The memory slammed into me: David's averted eyes, the isolated building, Veronica's cold voice, Michael's terror, Gabriel's whimper.
This wasn't a dream; this was a second chance.
Veronica, triumphant in my first life, had risen on my family's ashes, her belly swelling with a lie while mine was emptied by her greed.
No. Not again.
This time, I wouldn't just survive.
I would take everything she had, everything she wanted.
Her husband. Her position. Her future.
My revenge would be absolute, and my children would live. The game had begun. A Father's Vengeance
Bu Gui The smoke burned my eyes, thick and acrid, as my three-year-old son, Caleb, coughed weakly beside me.
My wife, Jennifer, stood at the wine cellar door, her gaze fixed on her brother-in-law, Ryan.
"It's for Molly's sake," she said, her voice chillingly devoid of warmth.
"The guru said Caleb's energy caused her asthma attack. We have to cleanse it."
She slammed the heavy oak door shut, the bolt thudding into place, trapping us.
My son, who had a severe peanut allergy and sensitive lungs, was left to suffocate in the toxic smoke.
Days bled into a hazy nightmare until Jennifer' s brother, Wesley, appeared, revealing Jennifer never loved me; I was just a rebound.
He then callously threw more sage onto the embers, sealing our tomb deeper.
I clawed our way out, just barely, carrying Caleb' s limp, blue body to a hospital, clinging to a desperate thread of hope.
But Jennifer arrived, not for us, but demanding Caleb's O-negative blood for Molly' s minor fender bender injury, ignoring doctors' pleas.
"He's my son. Do it," she commanded, her eyes cold.
Then, with a casual glance at Caleb, a nurse, obviously bribed, fed him a peanut granola bar.
The flatline screamed, and Caleb arched, his tiny chest still.
Jennifer, with Ryan' s arm around her, turned her back on our dying son to comfort Molly' s fake tears.
My world shattered.
Ryan' s venomous whisper echoed: "You and your son, you were always in the way."
How could a mother abandon her child to such a horrifying death?
How could she choose a niece over her own son, then murder him without a second thought?
Something inside me didn't just break; it turned to dust, then reformed into steel.
Andrew Wright had to die, so the man who would take everything from them could be born. My Heart, My Vengeance
Lan Zixin I spent three years locked away by my husband, Ethan, in a soundproof panic room.
My legs, shattered in the "accident" he orchestrated, were useless.
He stole my songs, my career, my life, and gave them to Chloe, a talentless fraud he built into a star.
Then, they wheeled me out-a prisoner displayed for the "happy family": Ethan, Chloe, and my son, Leo.
Leo, who looked at me like a monster, holding Chloe's hand and calling her "mom."
Ethan ordered me to confess to plagiarism, to blame my own "jealousy" for his intricate web of lies that destroyed me.
But the ultimate cruelty came later.
Chloe, supposedly dying from a heart condition, needed a transplant.
"You're a match," Ethan stated, his voice devoid of emotion.
"You will donate your heart to Chloe."
It wasn't a request; it was my execution.
My heart for hers, the last piece of me carved out and given to the woman who stole my life.
As the scalpel touched my skin, Chloe whispered, "This is for stealing my life, you bitch."
I closed my eyes, uttering one word to the mysterious "Pact" I made years ago.
Then, I left my body to die.
Yet, I woke up.
Not gone, but back.
And the Pact whispered a new bargain: return to stop Ethan, who, shattered by my death, was becoming a true monster.
The deal was clear: save him and save my sister.
I stepped back into hell, but this time, the chains were broken, and I was ready to fight. 
/0/85711/coverorgin.jpg?v=ee0beb90fcd21067022677d8497f80d9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/121286/coverorgin.jpg?v=9b534d556feaaaa4007891600b4be767&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/125187/coverorgin.jpg?v=29fa71c4c4f30a56e5cb2f1bfd8b45f1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/119760/coverorgin.jpg?v=17299dca4161921da7300dfa51a61f88&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/115062/coverorgin.jpg?v=58d85d1fd2fda8145d1fd36b06cf2a35&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/114562/coverorgin.jpg?v=6270567d357889f4d399229a7cf72592&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/113777/coverorgin.jpg?v=6c9d1da076ddba0fc40c9e17cdbb180b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/108061/coverorgin.jpg?v=30cc17b28487e4afc530d7ddcb2dfe21&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/103384/coverorgin.jpg?v=d91eb329a375c13cbcbcc2d434d8e6cd&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/86776/coverorgin.jpg?v=78d6cdd31005682cce304d16075a2801&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/83138/coverorgin.jpg?v=40eea7c1b366dbddc45d9ef6a28dcc64&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/82562/coverorgin.jpg?v=95e756ee3f220df3636080b7c02db1fa&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/80920/coverorgin.jpg?v=2ca94d96bcd3045cfbb2bcaeeb114d9c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/80868/coverorgin.jpg?v=e53618b4fdb4e7d71204de580df1ba9b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/79985/coverorgin.jpg?v=6b1705473dbb1e5eb2cbccb10ab8bd67&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/18641/coverorgin.jpg?v=ec7b09dee149242a80efc3785b8cd9a1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/85711/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106210358&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/21590/coverorgin.jpg?v=20240218174618&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/83696/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106202740&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/110762/coverorgin.jpg?v=f454633e4e9dbe1f9c725a424ff53144&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/80416/coverorgin.jpg?v=39ae808b0d7b3df85d0cf06d7ae34df0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/80729/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106193952&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/19250/coverorgin.jpg?v=479c1b077fa60a44da759c90770fa6c9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/84329/coverorgin.jpg?v=20260106204332&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/83391/coverorgin.jpg?v=20a1150f8cabd4ddf52468722151f5f5&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/21442/coverorgin.jpg?v=20220105155523&imageMogr2/format/webp)