Duwu Qingyang
16 Published Stories
Duwu Qingyang's Books and Stories
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. 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. 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 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." 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
Pampered By The Ruthless Biker Boss
Anywho After six years away, I returned to my hometown with a single suitcase and a picture of my fiancé tangled up with my stepsister.
I thought it was just a simple, disgusting betrayal, but when I planted a bug in their private suite to get a confession, I heard a truth that froze my blood.
My fiancé, Leo, laughed about how my own father had already signed over my mother's legacy—The Nightingale Ranch—as collateral to his powerful family.
"Once this is all done, Claire will have nothing. And the woman you marry will be me," my stepsister Jenna cheered.
Leo cooed back, calling me a stray dog he'd kick to the curb once he was bored, a worthless woman who couldn't even hold onto her family's land.
My family had sold me out, and the man I loved was planning to leave me with absolutely nothing.
I didn't cry. The pain burned away into a cold, hard hate. How could my own father conspire with them to destroy the only thing I had left of my mother?
I crashed their prestigious charity auction and played their filthy recording over the speakers for the entire town to hear.
But when Leo charged at me in a murderous rage, a wall of leather and muscle stepped in front of me.
Kade "Chaos" Peterson, the terrifying President of the rival motorcycle club, crushed Leo's wrist and announced to the stunned room, "She's with me now." Jilted Wife Returns As A Billionaire Heiress
Paula Gardini Chloe had just given birth to twins, lying exhausted in a cramped, bustling hospital ward.
When she called her husband, Julian, he was busy partying with his actress mistress. He coldly hung up on her, having already drafted a brutal divorce agreement that would leave her with a pittance.
Strangers in the next bed loudly mocked her pitiful state, gossiping about how Julian was dumping her. For years, Chloe had erased her own identity to fit into his elite world, only to be thrown away like garbage. She was completely alone, clutching her helpless babies, bracing herself to sign the cruel papers just to survive.
She couldn't understand why her absolute devotion was met with such chilling indifference. Why did she have to suffer this ultimate humiliation while he celebrated with the woman who ruined her life?
But then, a senior doctor noticed a unique mole on her wrist and ran a secret DNA test. The results were staggering: Chloe was the long-lost daughter of the billionaire Beaumont family. With her fiercely protective parents and three powerful brothers suddenly forming an impenetrable fortress around her, Chloe picked up her phone and texted her arrogant husband.
"City Hall tomorrow at 10 AM. If you don't show up, my lawyer will handle everything. And trust me, you won't like their terms." The Runaway Wife: Hiding His Secret Triplets
Hen Bu Five years ago, I stood in the freezing rain at my mother's funeral, waiting for my husband.
Blake Knight, the billionaire NHL superstar, was two hours late. When he finally showed up, he brought his rumored girlfriend, the woman he had just rented a hotel rooftop for to celebrate her birthday.
Watching him defend her fake tears, my heart completely died. I took off my diamond wedding ring, placed it on my mother's headstone, and walked away from my marriage forever.
I fled to London, changed my name to Ava, and secretly raised the triplets he never knew existed. I thought I was finally safe from him.
But today, my kids vandalized a silver Aston Martin in our apartment's parking garage, and the owner caught my youngest daughter.
My phone rang. The voice on the other end was Blake's.
He had moved into my building, and he was holding my little girl in his penthouse, demanding her mother come get her immediately.
Panic suffocated me. If I walked through that door, my five years of hiding would be instantly destroyed. He would recognize me, realize I didn't get rid of our child like everyone thought, and he would use all his power to take my babies away.
I couldn't let him ruin my life again.
"I'm just her nanny," I lied through my teeth.
I frantically begged my best friend to go upstairs and rescue my daughter in my place. He bought the disguise, but now, the King of the Ice is dangerously obsessed with investigating my new identity. The Billionaire I Slept With Became My Husband
Apache I went to my stepsister's birthday party, foolishly hoping for a family truce.
Instead, she drugged my drink and had me shoved into a dark hotel suite, where a stranger took my innocence.
When I sneaked back home the next morning, battered and humiliated, I overheard my stepsister and stepmother laughing in the hallway.
They had orchestrated the whole trap to destroy my reputation so I would be forced to marry a thrice-divorced, abusive butcher.
"And don't forget the little extras we've been putting in her food," my stepmother gloated. "She'll never lose the weight. That fat Miss Piggy is meant to be your backdrop."
The revelation chilled me to the bone.
My years of punishing diets, the brutal exercise, the deep self-hatred—none of it was my fault.
It was poison, fed to me daily by the family I trusted.
I packed a single bag, took the commemorative coin I had stolen from the stranger's nightstand as a reminder of my lowest point, and vanished into the city.
One year later, having lost ninety pounds and transformed into a completely different woman, I agreed to attend the blind date with the butcher they arranged.
But because of a flipped brass table number, I sat down in front of the wrong man.
It was Julian Sinclair, the billionaire stranger from that dark room, and he looked at me and proposed a contract marriage. 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. The Ex-Wife's Return: His Child, Her Reckoning
A. N. Cruz Ivanna had everything: a stable marriage, a promising career, and the love of the man she had fought for, even against his own family.
But when she finally managed to conceive, fate tore her happiness away in the most heart-wrenching way imaginable. Her husband had wanted a child... just not with her.
She made the hardest decision of her life: signing a divorce agreement that left her with nothing. She left without looking back, her heart shattered, carrying a silent promise never to return.
Until now.
Four years have passed, and she's back in Boston, the city where her dreams were once shattered-with a new life, newfound strength... and a secret that will change everything.
She is no longer the same woman who left in silence. And her ex-husband isn't prepared to uncover what she's been hiding.
What will happen when the ex-wife returns with the one secret that might ruin him... or redeem him? Jilted Ex-Wife? The Secret Billionaire Heiress!
Hei Baidong I was in the hospital, enduring the agonizing pain of labor, while my husband, a famous hockey captain, refused to show up.
When I called him for the twelfth time, begging for him, he lost his patience.
"Giving birth is a woman's job, don't bother me with this stuff."
Then, I heard my stepsister's sweet voice offering him a drink, and he immediately softened before hanging up on me.
I gave birth to twins all by myself.
The nurses treated me with cold indifference, and the family in the next bed loudly mocked me as a pathetic "Puck Bunny" who was just an adopted orphan about to be dumped.
They were right. A month ago, my husband had thrown divorce papers at me, demanding I make way because my stepsister was pregnant with his child.
I thought my life was a joke. I was just a discarded prop he married to satisfy his grandfather, a fake daughter my adoptive parents only used to elevate my stepsister.
I was completely alone, ready to sign the papers just to protect my two babies.
But then, the head of the hospital rushed in, transferred me to the top-floor VIP suite, and handed me a DNA test.
It turned out I wasn't an unwanted orphan, but the long-lost daughter of the ultra-wealthy Sinclair family who had been searching for me for twenty years.
Looking at my billionaire parents and three powerful brothers who just flew in on their private jets to protect me, I picked up my phone to call my arrogant husband.
This time, I was going to make him leave with nothing. The Ice CEO's Contracted Nanny
Priscila Ozilio Two years ago, a tragic accident shattered two families.
Emma was behind the wheel the day fate upended Damien's world. She lost her parents; he lost his wife. And little Luca, Damien's son, lost something irreplaceable: his voice.
Since that fateful day, Damien had built a fortress of cold indifference, vowing to never forgive the people he held responsible.
What he didn't anticipate was that fate would place one of them directly under his roof.
Driven by desperation to save her sister, who was gravely ill, Emma was forced to accept an exploitative employment contract. As Luca's nanny, she must live in the mansion of the man who had every reason to despise her.
What began as a contract signed under duress quickly morphed into a dangerous web.
Damien desired Emma with an intensity that defied reason, unaware that she was the cause of the past tragedy.
And when the truth came to light, Damien must make a choice: cling to the hatred that fueled him... or accept that love might rise from the ruins of devastation. 
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