Estelle Cramail
8 Published Stories
Estelle Cramail's Books and Stories
The Unwanted Heiress's Billionaire Return
Young Adult After eight years in captivity, I was finally rescued. I thought it was the beginning of a new life with my mother.
But she didn't even look at me. She ran into the arms of a handsome stranger, her real husband, and I was treated like a dirty secret from her past.
They called me a contamination, a reminder of their trauma. My new stepsister set their Doberman on me, and as the dog's teeth sank into my arm, I looked up and saw my mother watching from the window.
She met my eyes for a second, then slowly closed the curtains.
In that moment, the last bit of hope I had died. The shallow bond of family was completely gone, and I finally gave up.
But they made one mistake. The family patriarch, suspicious after a car accident, ordered a secret DNA test.
The results came back on the day of my stepsister's birthday party, revealing a truth that would burn their perfect world to the ground. From Trophy Wife To Forgotten
Romance I decided to leave him on a Tuesday, not with a bang, but with the quiet, chilling certainty that settled in my bones as I watched him sleep in our bedroom doorway.
For seven years, our life together had been a carefully constructed epic, built on shared apartments, inside jokes, and intertwined lives, a foundation I believed was unshatterable.
Then, he walked in from a "work trip," a charming smile plastered on his face, attempting to pull me into a hug as if nothing had changed.
But something had; a faint, almost imperceptible smudge of pink on the white collar of his shirt-a shade that wasn\'t mine.
My world shattered as a brutal text arrived from an unknown number: a picture of his car, a fluffy pink charm in the rearview mirror, and a taunting message, "He likes my taste, doesn\'t he?"
The cold, hard truth clicked into place: not only was he cheating, but his mistress, Sophia, was flaunting her triumph, confirming she was building a whole separate life with him.
The final, devastating blow came at his parents\' anniversary party when I overheard the hushed whisper: "She\'s pregnant."
The champagne glass slipped from my fingers, shattering like my heart, a deafening sound in the sudden silence of my mind.
Liam, ever oblivious, still tried to parade me around as his trophy, even as Sophia, undeniably showing, called him away with a whimper, "Liam, I want to go home!" leaving me in a sea of strangers to make his choice.
He chose her. Again.
Seeing Sophia, blatant in her shared future with my long-term partner, filled me with a sickening realization: this wasn\'t just an affair; it was a cold, calculated betrayal of the deepest kind, and I was just an inconvenient obstacle.
The next day, as he left on a "work" call from Sophia, I moved swiftly, placing the silver bracelet with the "S" charm from his wallet on the nightstand, along with printed texts from another man to Sophia-proof of her own double game.
Then, as the car pulled away, I took out my phone and typed, "It\'s over, Liam. I know everything. About Sophia. About the baby. Have a nice life."
And with a final, liberating block of his number, I drove away, leaving him to the wreckage of his own making, finally free. When Envy Destroys Her Empire
Young Adult My scholarship, my future, everything I' d worked for, was hanging by a thread.
It all started innocently enough, just another day buried in academic articles at the university cafeteria. That is, until Brittany, a campus influencer I barely knew, slammed a tray on my table and demanded I pay for her twenty-dollar lunch because her card was declined.
When I politely refused, her perfectly made-up face twisted, and she snarled, "You' ll regret this." I dismissed it as an empty threat, a petty outburst from someone used to always getting her way.
But I was catastrophically wrong.
The next morning, her revenge hit like a wrecking ball. She' d posted a picture of me online, concocting a wildly elaborate story claiming I was a "creepy stalker" fixated on her, who then became "aggressive and hostile" when confronted. The comments section exploded, full of strangers condemning me, my university peers quickly judging me guilty without question.
The "serious matter" my advisor wanted to discuss was suddenly terrifyingly clear. My scholarship, my reputation, my entire future was being threatened by a baseless lie, fueled by an angry online mob.
How could a simple refusal to buy someone lunch spiral into a campus-wide witch hunt? And how could I possibly fight back against an accusation that was not only false, but had already gone viral?
Standing in front of Professor Davies and the Dean, my life on the line, I had to come up with something, anything, to prove the truth. And then, it hit me-a flicker of hope, a long shot… the cafeteria' s security camera. The Artist Who Cheated Death
Modern The news of Ava Green' s death rattled the New York art world, just a week after her sold-out exhibition crowned her the city' s newest star at 33.
The official report blamed a random car accident, but whispers grew louder when tabloids linked her tech mogul ex-husband, Mark Davis, to rising pop star Sienna Brooks, pictures surfacing the day after Ava died.
At her funeral, Mark feigned grief in the front row, while Ava's mother, Sarah, eyed him with a chilling mix of pity and calculation, her comfort a veiled claim.
A gallerist eulogized Ava, quoting her final interview: "My art is about the life you live after you realize the first one wasn't yours."
No one truly understood her words until it was too late, leaving a haunting question of what secret pain she carried.
But death was not the end; Ava awoke, inexplicably, in her lavish marital bed, ten years in the past, to the shock of her 23-year-old self staring back from the mirror. My Best Friend, My Wife, My Betrayal
Romance As an Austin IT guy, I bore the crushing guilt of my supposed infertility, convinced I was failing my influencer wife, Jess, and her dream of a family. Our marriage had grown cold, dominated by her career, and the weight of my perceived inadequacy was immense. But then, I stumbled upon a secret: birth control pills hidden in Jess's bag. My world tilted, the carefully constructed narrative of our life starting to crack.
Jess tearfully confessed to using them for career reasons, skillfully manipulating my guilt over my "condition" documented by an acquaintance nurse, Sarah. I reluctantly accepted, but a chilling suspicion had taken root. Soon after, I found items belonging to my best friend, David, tucked away in Jess' s room - strange for a place she claimed was exclusively hers.
The truth burst open when my hidden camera caught them: Jess and David, intimately involved, proving my betrayal was deeper than I imagined. Then, Sarah, consumed by guilt, confessed it all: Jess' s infertility report was fake, there was no miscarriage, and she' d had an abortion long before, fearing it would derail her career. My entire life had been built on their elaborate lies.
The betrayal escalated from emotional manipulation to outright attempted murder. Jess drugged me and tried to drown me in a staged car accident, only for Sarah to miraculously save me. Witnessing Jess and David celebrating my "death" on my phone ignited a pure, incandescent rage. Every ounce of my fabricated guilt vanished, replaced by an urgent need for justice.
My innocent confusion was gone. I knew now: I wouldn't be their victim any longer. This IT guy was about to turn the tables and expose every single one of their heinous secrets. Married To A Lie
Modern I was just shelving books in my tiny New York apartment, my parents, renowned investigative journalists, chasing a big story in New Orleans, and my engagement to City Councilman Ethan Bellweather just around the corner.
Then, the call came: a car bombing, my parents gone, their names slandered as villains in the news.
Ethan, my fiancé, publicly abandoned me for their intern, Alexis Thorne, right on live TV, shattering my world.
In my despair, Ethan's older brother, Marcus, the chief forensic pathologist, became my only anchor, vowing to uncover the truth about my parents, and I married him, desperately clinging to his promise.
Five years of hollow vows and polite silence passed, our sterile marriage echoing with unasked questions, until a chilling conversation revealed Marcus had actively covered up the military-grade details of my parents' murder and fiercely protected Alexis.
My world shattered once more: the man who swore to find justice was part of the very conspiracy, meticulously hiding the truth about Alexis, the daughter of the magnate my parents exposed, and her deep, shared past with him and Ethan.
Pregnant with Marcus's child, I endured his attempts to 'reconcile' me with Alexis, before overhearing Alexis confessing to the murder and thanking Marcus for his years of cover-up.
At a charity gala, Alexis shamelessly faked an attack, causing my miscarriage, with Marcus choosing her over me, cold contempt chilling his eyes as he cradled her instead of me.
Left alone and bleeding, my baby lost, I gathered every damning piece of evidence, tipped off the FBI, and vanished, finally ready to tear down the empire of lies they built on my parents' graves. The Phoenix Wife
Romance Weeks after my C-section, exhausted and clinging to my newborn, Lily, my husband Jake burst through the door, reeking of cheap perfume and stale beer.
Trailing behind him was Tiffany “Tiff” Evans, openly pregnant, a smirk on her face.
“Tiff’s pregnant,” he announced, not even looking at me or our baby. “I want a divorce. Now. And she’s moving in today.”
My world spun. Not again.
A terrifying vision, sharp as shattered glass, of a past life: the exact same words, the exact same betrayal, ending with Lily’s tragic death and my parents consumed by flames, all set by Jake.
In this life, later that very day, Jake’s drunken rage caused Lily to fall twice.
She lay lifeless.
My father’s house, my family’s legacy, was ripped away through his cruel deceit, leaving me alone with my baby’s cold, still body in a seedy motel.
How could fate be so cruel as to force me to relive this nightmare?
The injustice was a crushing weight, my grief calcified into a chilling resolve.
There were no tears left, only a burning, vengeful fire within.
This was my second chance, a horrifying replay.
And this time, armed with future knowledge, a silent vow erupted from the depths of my soul: They would all pay.
Every single one of them.
For Lily. For my parents.
I wouldn't just survive; I would make them wish they’d never been born. From Cell Block To Center Stage
Romance After five long years, the prison gates groaned open.
My husband, Michael, and our son, Kevin, were waiting, their presence a balm to my battered soul.
I stepped into the blinding California sun, believing my nightmare was over, ready to reclaim my life.
But within days, searching for old family videos on Michael’s tablet, I stumbled upon a subfolder: “Audio Notes – Misc.”
The latest file contained Kevin's voice, confessing how he’d helped his father frame me – swapping my USB drive, planting evidence before my career-defining presentation.
Then, Michael's chilling confirmation: he orchestrated my downfall, all to clear the path for a young actress, Sophia Bell.
My meticulously rebuilt hope shattered.
My five years in prison weren't a mistake; they were a deliberate sacrifice orchestrated by my own husband and son.
I discovered Michael’s study was a shrine to Sophia, filled with devotion he never showed me.
At Sophia’s lavish Hollywood party for the film stolen from my script, I saw my grandmother’s cherished necklace – my wedding "something old" – glinting on her neck.
My own father publicly disowned me, my son Kevin shoved me to the ground, calling me an embarrassment.
Later, I found Michael and Sophia in *my* bed, my heirloom tossed carelessly aside.
How could the people I loved most betray me with such cold precision?
Was my entire life built on a foundation of lies and manipulation?
The pain was suffocating, the injustice searing.
With trembling hands, I signed the divorce papers.
Minutes later, I was in a black car with David Lee, my loyal friend, leaving behind the wreckage.
No suitcase, no goodbyes, just the quiet click of the door marking the start of a new battle and a new dawn. You might like
Invisible To Her Bully
Dea B Unlike her twin brother, Jackson, Jessa struggled with her weight and very few friends. Jackson was an athlete and the epitome of popularity, while Jessa felt invisible.
Noah was the quintessential "It" guy at school-charismatic, well-liked, and undeniably handsome. To make matters worse, he was Jackson's best friend and Jessa's biggest bully.
During their senior year, Jessa decides it was time for her to gain some self-confidence, find her true beauty and not be the invisible twin.
As Jessa transformed, she begins to catch the eye of everyone around her, especially Noah.
Noah, initially blinded by his perception of Jessa as merely Jackson's sister, started to see her in a new light. How did she become the captivating woman invading his thoughts? When did she become the object of his fantasies?
Join Jessa on her journey from being the class joke to a confident, desirable young woman, surprising even Noah as she reveals the incredible person she has always been inside. The Hockey Star Regret
Aya Starr Coleen Maine hated Hayden Michaels with her entire heart. After high school graduation, she thought she had escaped the hell that being a classmate to Hayden was. Being his academic rival was enough to put her, Coleen, at the top of his shit list. To make matters worse, he's the hot, popular jock with a full-ride scholarship he doesn't need, because he has all the money that she doesn't.
When Coleen finds herself in close contact with Hayden again out of no free will of her own, she expects things to be the same. But somehow, somewhere between summer and starting their first year at college, something changed.
Now, Coleen isn't sure Hayden hates her anymore. Between her new job, college, and her friendships, she finds herself wondering what lies behind Hayden's deep gaze towards her. The Ninety-Ninth Goodbye
Tango The ninety-ninth time Jax Little broke my heart was the last time. We were the golden couple of Northgate High, our future perfectly mapped out for UCLA. But in our senior year, he fell for a new girl, Catalina, and our love story became a sick, exhausting dance of his betrayals and my empty threats to leave.
At a graduation party, Catalina "accidentally" pulled me into the pool with her. Jax dove in without a second's hesitation. He swam right past me as I struggled, wrapped his arms around Catalina, and pulled her to safety.
As he helped her out to the cheers of his friends, he glanced back at me, my body shivering and my mascara running in black rivers.
"Your life isn't my problem anymore," he said, his voice as cold as the water I was drowning in.
That night, something inside me finally shattered. I went home, opened my laptop, and clicked the button that confirmed my admission.
Not to UCLA with him, but to NYU, an entire country away. The Unwanted Heiress's Billionaire Return
Estelle Cramail After eight years in captivity, I was finally rescued. I thought it was the beginning of a new life with my mother.
But she didn't even look at me. She ran into the arms of a handsome stranger, her real husband, and I was treated like a dirty secret from her past.
They called me a contamination, a reminder of their trauma. My new stepsister set their Doberman on me, and as the dog's teeth sank into my arm, I looked up and saw my mother watching from the window.
She met my eyes for a second, then slowly closed the curtains.
In that moment, the last bit of hope I had died. The shallow bond of family was completely gone, and I finally gave up.
But they made one mistake. The family patriarch, suspicious after a car accident, ordered a secret DNA test.
The results came back on the day of my stepsister's birthday party, revealing a truth that would burn their perfect world to the ground. The Price of Unrequited Love
Shearwater Eighteen days after giving up on Brendan Maynard, Jayde Rosario cut off her waist-length hair and called her father, announcing her decision to move to California and attend UC Berkeley.
Her father, surprised, asked about the sudden change, reminding her how she' d always insisted on staying with Brendan. Jayde forced a laugh, revealing the painful truth: Brendan was getting married, and she, his stepsister, could no longer cling to him.
That night, she tried to tell Brendan about her college acceptance, but his fiancée, Chloie Ellis, interrupted with a bubbly call, and Brendan' s tender words to Chloie twisted a knife in Jayde' s heart. She remembered how his tenderness used to be hers alone, how he had protected her, and how she had poured out her heart to him in a diary and a love letter, only for him to explode, tearing the letter and yelling, "I'm your brother!"
He had stormed out, leaving her to painstakingly tape the shredded pieces back together. Her love, however, didn't die, not even when he brought Chloie home and told her to call her "sister-in-law."
Now, she understood. She had to put that fire out herself. She had to dig Brendan out of her heart. When Charity Turns Deadly
Shu Yu The last thing I saw was the Chicago skyline rushing up to meet me.
Then, merciful darkness.
Now, blinding sunlight streamed through a window, hitting my face as I lay in my university dorm room.
My head throbbed with a pain far deeper than a physical fall.
It was the brutal, horrifying memory of my parents, David and Susan Miller.
Their kind faces, now hauntingly overlaid with images of their blood on the polished floors of our beautiful Chicago home.
They were murdered.
And the architect of that devastation?
Brittany Evans, the very scholarship student my generous parents had taken under their wing, hailed as their "charity case."
Her smile, so sickeningly sweet and fake, her boyfriend Spike's cruel, calculating eyes, haunted my every waking thought.
She had meticulously orchestrated their downfall: the forged will, the baseless accusations leveled against me.
I endured the looks of disgust, the complete abandonment from everyone I had ever known.
The crushing despair consumed me, pushing me to the desperate, final leap.
How could such an act of profound kindness be repaid with such heinous betrayal and wanton violence?
How could I have been utterly blind, so incredibly naive, to allow my entire family, my entire life, to be so mercilessly dismantled, ending in that horrific, unjust way for all of us?
The injustice burned.
But then, I sat bolt upright in bed, gasping for air.
My hands flew to my throat, my chest.
I was whole.
Alive.
It was the first week of freshman year.
Again.
I had been granted a second chance, and this time, a cold, unyielding rage, something I' d never felt in my first, naive life, settled deep in my bones.
Brittany Evans would not win. Echoes of a Nightmare
Zi Ya The night before the SATs, I sat at my desk, my mind fixed not on review books, but on Kevin Johnson, my ex-boyfriend, whose excited voice boomed from downstairs, bragging to my dad about Tiff Rodriguez' s party-his new girlfriend.
Then, a horrifying, vivid memory jolted me from what should have been a normal evening: Tiff, sneering in the school bathroom, outlining her vicious plan to drug Kevin so he' d miss his Ivy League SATs. In that other life, the one I somehow lived, I' d desperately tried to intervene, to warn him, but he' d just laughed it off.
Tiff' s scheme ultimately failed and led to her death, but Kevin, consumed by rage, responded by framing me for sexual assault. The unbearable shame of his lies drove my parents to suicide, and I, arrested and condemned, died in juvenile detention, haunted by Kevin' s cruel visit displaying my parents' last, broken moments.
The utter injustice of his monstrous lies, the agonizing despair of being blamed for everything while struggling to help, was an unbearable burden. How could one life be so thoroughly shattered by such a deep, twisted betrayal?
But then, a sharp gasp brought me back to my room, the exact same night before the SATs, Kevin' s laughter still echoing. This was it: my second chance. A cold, knowing smile touched my lips. This time, I would write a different ending.