Fu Mo
13 Published Stories
Fu Mo's Books and Stories
My Alpha Replaced Me For Her
Werewolf My mate, the Alpha, was planning to replace me. He was terrified of the family curse that took his mother in childbirth, and he decided his human lover, Lila, was a safer bet to carry his heir.
The plan was as cruel as it was calculated. He was throwing me a lavish birthday party, not to celebrate me, but to create a public stage for my rejection. He told his most trusted men he would break our sacred bond and install Lila as his new mate right after.
The humiliation was a constant, public execution. He flaunted Lila at every turn, and for a tiny scrape on her hand, he performed a sacred life-force ritual meant only for a dying mate, a blasphemy that horrified our pack. At a formal dinner, Lila announced she was pregnant, and he fled with her when I demanded the rejection he had planned all along.
Later that night, through the agony of our bond, I felt him kiss her. It was a passionate, claiming kiss that finally shattered my heart. He thought I was too gentle to fight back, a willing sacrifice for the good of the pack.
He was wrong. Using his own rage against him, I twisted the rite and severed our bond myself. The next morning, I signed his papers, took none of his blood money, and walked out of his life forever, leaving him to the future he'd built on a bed of lies. Bound By The Billionaire Star's Lies
Romance For five years, Alena lived as the secret girlfriend of Hollywood's golden boy, Kane Moody, locked away in a luxury penthouse.
Everything shattered when Vanity Fair announced his engagement to a famous actress, quoting him saying it was his "first time finding real love." But instead of letting Alena go, Kane's security team trapped her inside the apartment.
When she tried to fight back, she discovered the horrifying truth.
The entire penthouse was wired with hidden cameras, recording her most private breakdowns to use as blackmail.
His crisis team threatened her sick mother and forced Alena to sign away her life.
He even used her trust fund to secretly buy his new fiancée a $2.4 million emerald necklace.
The darkest betrayal came when she sneaked out to buy emergency contraceptives, only for Kane to call her untraceable burner phone.
"You don't need that," he whispered.
He revealed that months ago, under the guise of a vitamin shot, his private doctor had secretly implanted a three-year contraceptive device in her arm.
Alena was paralyzed with dread, her body violated and her existence reduced to a node in his surveillance network. She couldn't understand why a man who publicly discarded her refused to let her leave his sight.
Desperate, she used a secret work assignment to flee on a private helicopter to an isolated cabin in Aspen. But as the chopper flew away and the cabin door opened, Kane was standing by the fire, smiling as the winter storm rolled in. His Madness, Her Unforgiving Vengeance
Modern I gave my childhood sweetheart, Kade, ten years of my life and the code that built his empire. I thought we were a team. Then, on the night of our success, I overheard him call me his "unpaid intern" and "beta test."
He publicly discarded me for a strategic marriage, shattering my world. I fled, rebuilt my life from scratch, and found real love with a kind man named Heath.
But Kade came back, obsessed and unhinged. When I refused to take him back, he had his thugs beat Heath bloody in an alley.
He cornered me, begging for another chance, his eyes wild with a twisted love.
"It was always you, Addy! I made a mistake!"
I walked straight into his corporate office, my heart cold as stone. I looked the monster I once loved in the eye and delivered my final promise.
"You will stay away from me and the man I love," I said, my voice lethal. "Or I will expose every last one of your family's secrets and burn your entire empire to the ground." The Regret of a Cheating Husband
Modern On the same afternoon I learned I was finally pregnant, the doctor handed me a death sentence: stage 4 stomach cancer.
I went home to tell my husband, Anderson, only to be interrupted by a call from a woman named Katlyn.
"He' s on a '100-Day Farewell Tour' with me," she gloated, "getting the fun out of his system before he comes back to his boring duty as a father."
For the next three months, I died in silence while Anderson lived his best life with her.
He blamed my weight loss on morning sickness and my vomiting on hormones, never looking closely enough to see the blood.
On my birthday, the final day of his "tour," he bought me a cake, tucked me into bed, and immediately left to celebrate their finale in a hotel room across the street.
He thought he could just flip a switch and return to our marriage when he was ready.
He didn't know that while he was whispering promises to his mistress, I was signing our divorce papers.
I terminated the pregnancy he claimed to want so badly and left the medical report on the table.
By the time he came home to play the role of the devoted husband, I was already gone. Kidnapped Bride, Unexpected Knight
Romance My wedding day was supposed to be the happiest day of my life, but I found myself tied to a chair in a dark, moldy basement, a burlap sack ripped from my head. The kidnapper held my phone, reading my fiancé Ethan Riley' s name, demanding a thirty-million-dollar ransom.
Desperate, I called Ethan, but his line was busy-forty-nine times. On the fiftieth try, the kidnapper lost his patience, breaking my ribs with a punch, calling me "useless." The physical pain was nothing compared to the cold dread that settled in my heart. Why was he so busy? A week ago, Ethan paid a thirty-million-dollar ransom for his childhood friend, Chloe Davis, without hesitation, abandoning me at our wedding rehearsal to deliver the money himself.
Then, a video message from Chloe lit up my phone, which the kidnapper held to my face. Chloe smiled, cooing, "Sorry, Sarah, Ethan's a little busy right now. He's putting my shoes on for me." The camera panned to Ethan, kneeling, gently sliding a crystal-heeled shoe onto her foot. But it wasn' t his devotion that shattered me; it was the dress Chloe was wearing – my wedding dress, the one my mother had made for me.
A white-hot rage surged through me. I screamed for the phone, but the kidnapper smashed it, severing my last connection to Ethan. He then dialed Ethan on his burner phone, putting it on speaker, and calmly declared a new ransom: "One dollar. For every time he doesn't answer, I cut off a finger." On the fourth ring, Chloe answered, her voice dripping with fake concern. "Oh, Sarah," she sighed, "You have the worst timing. Ethan's busy getting a band-aid for me."
I screamed, "I've been kidnapped! Tell him I've been kidnapped!" Chloe laughed, calling me dramatic. Then, Ethan' s voice, cold and impatient, filled the silence. "Sarah? What is this? Chloe said you're playing some kind of game. Kidnapped? Again? This is a new low, even for you." He hung up.
The kidnapper reached for my hand. "Well, it looks like he didn't answer." He severed my pinky finger with rusty pliers. The blinding pain made my world tilt. I begged him to video call Ethan, just so he could see. Ethan appeared, annoyed, with Chloe beside him, dabbing a tiny scratch on her foot. He called me a liar, manipulative, and selfish, accusing me of trying to ruin their wedding. I showed him my mutilated hand, the bloody stump where my pinky used to be. For a second, he hesitated, a flicker of horror in his eyes.
But then Chloe shrieked, "That is disgusting, Sarah! Where did you get that fake movie prop?" She sobbed dramatically into Ethan' s chest. His brief doubt vanished, replaced by a storm of protective rage directed at me. "Look what you've done," he snarled. "You're making Chloe cry. All you do is cause pain. You're a monster." He hung up, telling me never to call again. The kidnapper picked up the pliers again, eyeing my ring finger. "Let's get rid of this one next."
My ring finger, the one holding all my broken promises, was severed. Then, he live-streamed my torture to the world, revealing me – Sarah Miller, Ethan Riley' s supposed fiancée – bruised, bloody, and broken. Comments flooded the screen: "Fake," "Awesome special effects!" until people recognized me. The kidnapper cursed, ending the feed, but then showed me another video: Ethan and Chloe, at our wedding venue, getting married. Chloe in my dress. Ethan' s voice, clear and steady, saying, "I do." My world went black. Eight Years of Lies
Romance My life as a pastry chef with dreams as sweet as my confections was shattered in an instant. The doctor' s words echoed: "Acute myeloid leukemia."
But that diagnosis was only the first blow. Numbly, I returned home, only to discover a hidden folder on my longtime boyfriend Liam' s tablet: "Walker_Harrington_Private." Inside were marriage certificates and photos of Liam, beaming, with his wife, Bella-dated three years ago.
My heart didn't just break; it stopped. The man I loved, the one I' d been sketching wedding cakes for, had a secret wife. Then, the true horror unfolded: I overheard Liam casually discussing "the Ava project" with a colleague. His plan? Use me as an incubator for a child for him and Bella, who was barren. He' d meticulously crafted my world, ensuring I had no one but him, even starting malicious rumors during our college days to isolate me.
Eight years. My entire future, my security, was a meticulously woven lie. The sickness eating my body felt less painful than the absolute, soul-crushing betrayal. How could I have been so utterly blind? So stupidly devoted to a monster?
But in that abyss, a flicker of cold defiance sparked. A brochure for experimental CAR T-cell therapy in Boston. I would fight for my life, but on my own terms. My only path forward: survive the leukemia, and completely disappear from Liam' s monstrous game. Too Blind To See The True Lumina
Fantasy I was Ellie Vance, living a quiet life, secretly the Grand Lumina, wielding immense power I called The Radiance.
For years, I poured my very essence into Michael Thorne, elevating his career, believing our deep love meant a future as husband and wife.
Then, I overheard him plotting his political marriage to Victoria Ashworth, and the horrifying truth hit me: I was merely his "Pure Spring essence," a convenient resource to be exploited, dismissed, and discarded.
The betrayal was a relentless, agonizing assault: Michael left me to nearly drown for Victoria' s feigned stumble, physically forced my healing blood from my arm for her, and let her flaunt the Heartstone Locket he' d given only to me.
He watched while his friends mocked me, then heartlessly tore the treasured bracelet he' d made for me from my wrist to buy her a trinket.
Finally, he callously struck me, leaving me bruised and trapped after fabricating an attack, instantly believing Victoria' s vile lies.
How could the man I loved and sacrificed everything for be so utterly blind, so profoundly callous, so unspeakably cruel?
My unwavering devotion, my secret, immense power, my very identity, had all been meticulously used as a mere stepping stone for his ambition, reducing me to a disposable tool.
But the pain, the incandescent rage, the profound destruction of my world, forged an unyielding strength within me.
No longer just timid Ellie Vance, I returned to the High Sanctum, severing every last emotional thread binding me to Michael Thorne.
I strode into his lavish wedding, not as The Grand Lumina, but as the "simple Ellie" he so disdained, utterly prepared to shatter his carefully constructed facade.
My name is Elara, and from the ashes of his monumental betrayal, my true ascension had just begun. His Regret, Her Freedom
Romance I married tech mogul Ethan Hayes for one purpose: to save my dying brother.
Five years, a gilded cage.
Curator by day, desperate sister by night, I endured his coldness and countless affairs.
Then, a falling sculpture, a blinding pain, and the secret hope of three months was violently extinguished.
"I lost the baby," I whispered, my voice raw.
His chilling reply: "Don't be dramatic, Ava. I'm busy. Send me the bill."
Two days later, my brother, David, his last will to fight gone, passed.
Ethan, consumed by a baseless vendetta against my father, publicly humiliated me, using David' s very ashes as a cruel weapon.
He even orchestrated my brutal assault in a dark warehouse, leaving me battered and violated, a trophy for his mistress.
Every bruised inch of my body screamed, but the betrayal was the deepest wound.
Where was the protective man I once knew?
How could he have become such a monster, all built on a lie?
I wouldn't just break; I would break him.
I would uncover the truth about our fathers, expose his monstrous deception, and shatter his world.
My meticulous revenge began now. The Unwanted Wife's Reckoning
Modern My life in Long Island seemed perfect: a loving husband, Ethan, a sweet daughter, Emily, and a home filled with warmth.
But a year after my half-sister Chloe’s husband died, my mother, Susan, dropped a bombshell: she wanted *my* husband to impregnate Chloe, to provide a "blood connection" for the family.
My horrified refusal was met with cold fury; I was imprisoned in my own home, my phone and laptop confiscated.
Ethan, my husband, walked away into Chloe’s room, not looking back, becoming a puppet for their twisted agenda.
For a grueling month, I listened to them "working" on their grotesque project, held captive in hell.
The ultimate breaking point came when my vigilant daughter, Emily, bravely exposed their lie, causing Ethan to violently shove her, leaving her bleeding from a head wound.
They twisted everything, painting *me* as the orchestrator of this perverse family scheme for an heir, even as my child bled from his casual cruelty.
But their confidence was their undoing.
As they planned to announce Chloe’s pregnancy as *mine* at Emily's birthday gala, a cold, hard rage solidified into a plan.
I would make them pay.
Every single one of them. You might like
Married To My Ex-Fiancé's Silent Uncle
Ming Yue Twenty minutes before the "Wedding of the Century" at The Plaza, I stood outside the Presidential Suite in a fifty-thousand-dollar Vera Wang gown. I was the girl from a West Virginia trailer park about to marry Hugh Maxwell, the golden heir to a billion-dollar defense empire.
I pushed the door open only to find Hugh pinned against the bed with my own stepsister, Floy. She was wearing my bridal diamond necklace, and the sounds of their laughter scraped against my eardrums like sandpaper.
I didn't scream; I listened as Hugh grunted that once the wedding was over and the trust fund unlocked, he'd dump "that hillbilly trash" on a bus back to the mountains. They weren't just cheating; they were planning to steal my family's land deeds and leave me with nothing. When I set off the sprinklers and exposed their naked bodies to the paparazzi, the Maxwell family didn't apologize. They called me a "greedy peasant" and threatened to ruin my life unless I signed a new deal to save their crashing stock.
I realized then that I was never a bride to them. I was a transaction, a rounding error in a ledger to be used and discarded. They thought my poverty made me weak and my silence made me a victim.
"If we don't have a marriage certificate by midnight, the bank freezes thirty percent of our liquidity," their lawyer warned.
So, I gave them exactly what they wanted. I used a loophole in their hundred-year-old family covenant and married the only other direct heir available. I didn't marry Hugh. I walked into the ICU and married his uncle, Fleet Maxwell-the legendary war hero who had been in a vegetative state for months.
Now, I am the matriarch of the Maxwell dynasty. I've suspended Hugh's executive powers, exiled my mother-in-law to the Swiss Alps, and taken control of the family vault. They think I'm just a gold-digger waiting for a "corpse" to die so I can collect a fifty-million-dollar widow's payout.
But last night, as I lay beside my comatose husband, the man they called a vegetable gripped my hand back. The Unwanted Wife Is A Zillionaire
Reilly Mcardle For seven years, I played the perfect, hidden wife to billionaire August Chambers while working quietly as an ER nurse.
Three days before our marriage contract expired, he stormed into my emergency room carrying a bleeding woman. It was Allena, his cousin's fiancée.
She had suffered a ruptured corpus luteum from their violent, aggressive sex. Instead of hiding his affair, August ordered me to clear the floor and threw a massive check at my face to buy my silence. Later, his friends trapped me in a VIP club. When a waiter tripped, August violently shoved me aside just to protect Allena from a spilled cup of coffee. I crashed into a glass table, a sharp edge slicing deep into my arm.
"Apologize to her, and I'll have my driver take you to the hospital."
As my blood soaked into the white rug, he stood over me, demanding I get on my knees for his mistress. He didn't know I had faked a miscarriage five years ago to secretly raise our daughter far away from his cruelty. He also didn't know the money he flaunted was pocket change compared to my hidden AI tech empire.
I calmly tied a tourniquet around my bleeding arm with my teeth and wiped my blood directly over his heart onto his custom suit.
"I'm done with you."
The submissive nurse was dead, and it was time to let him burn in the ruins of his own lies. Flash Marriage to the Tycoon, I'm Spoiled Rotten
Hollow Echo Cast out by an "elite" family and mocked by high society, Elena shocked everyone by marrying the most powerful man in town.
They assumed it was a temporary arrangement-after all, he had said, "The agreement is for two years. After that, we're done."
Yet after the wedding, he refused to let her go. "Elena, you can't leave me."
As he doted on her, rumors shattered one by one. A renowned painter, top hacker, and tech mastermind-her true identities stunned the world.
When a luxury empire announced their lost heiress, all eyes turned to her. "Why did she look exactly like Elena?" Abandoned Ex-Wife: Now Untouchable
Tao Yaoyao My five-year-old daughter was dying in the ICU, her heartbeat replaced by the continuous, electronic scream of a flatline. I gripped her cold hand, my throat sealed shut by a terror so absolute I couldn't even cry out.
I dialed my husband Grayson's private number, the one reserved only for me and his assistants. He declined the call instantly. A second later, a text buzzed against my palm:
"In a meeting. Do not disturb. Stop calling."
Five miles away, Grayson was at a luxury gala, adjusting his silk tie and laughing with Belle Escobar. He told her I was just being "dramatic" and using our daughter's "fever" as an excuse to avoid the event. He had no idea Effie's heart had already stopped.
When I finally reached our penthouse, soaked from the rain and carrying Effie's small socks in a plastic bag, Grayson didn't even look at me. He snapped at me for ruining the hardwood floors and asked if I'd left Effie with the nanny just to "feel sorry for myself."
Three days later, while I buried our daughter in a small, lonely ceremony, Grayson was at the Hamptons. Belle posted a photo of him golfing with the caption: "A mental health day with the boys." He didn't even attend the funeral, but he returned home demanding I clear out Effie's room to make a study for Belle's son.
The injustice burned through me until there was nothing left. I swallowed a handful of sleeping pills, desperate to join my daughter. But instead of the darkness, I woke up to blinding lights and the scent of Grayson's expensive cologne.
I was standing in a ballroom, wearing a blue silk dress I had already burned. Above me, a banner read: "Happy 5th Birthday Kaiden & Effie."
I was back, exactly one year before the tragedy. This time, I wasn't going to be the grieving wife. I was going to be their worst nightmare. The Humble Ex-wife Is Now A Brilliant Tycoon
Flory Corkery For three quiet, patient years, Christina kept house, only to be coldly discarded by the man she once trusted.
Instead, he paraded a new lover, making her the punchline of every town joke.
Liberated, she honed her long-ignored gifts, astonishing the town with triumph after gleaming triumph.
Upon discovering she'd been a treasure all along, her ex-husband's regret drove him to pursue her. "Honey, let's get back together!"
With a cold smirk, Christina spat, "Fuck off."
A silken-suited mogul slipped an arm around her waist. "She's married to me now. Guards, get him the hell out of here!" Untouchable After Goodbye: She Had A Secret Empire
Mira Westfield "Let's get a divorce. She's pregnant and deserves a place in my life."
He once promised to protect Claire forever, yet when his first love returned, he cast her aside. For three years, Claire dimmed her brilliance, living quietly as the obedient wife behind him.
When he handed her divorce papers to give his pregnant mistress a place, Claire no longer hid her talents.
The woman he had overlooked was a legendary healer, racing prodigy, and a genius designer. After the divorce, she reclaimed her glory.
When he pleaded, "Honey, let's remarry," another man pulled her close. "She's my wife now. As for you... Someone, take him out and give him what he deserves!" Phoenix Of Ruin: My Second Life Comes With A Better Man
Maple Breeze Ashley gave Nicolas ten years of love and five years of loyalty as his perfect housewife, only to be repaid with betrayal, humiliation, and death at the hands of him and his mistress.
After being reborn, she vowed to make them pay.
She tore apart the mistress, kicked her useless husband aside, and returned as the heiress of a top-tier family.
Surrounded by billions, luxury, and a parade of elite bachelors, Ashley became the woman everyone wanted-including a cold, powerful tycoon.
When Nicolas came begging for forgiveness, she smiled coldly. "Fuck off! My man is worth a hundred of you." The Placeholder Bride's Secret Billionaire Revenge
Luo Ye For two years, I was the invisible force behind tech billionaire Kieran Douglas, convinced that our "private" romance was his way of protecting us from the tabloid spotlight. I managed his mergers, warmed his bed, and waited for a future that didn't exist.
The illusion shattered at 6:00 AM when a Page Six alert debuted Kieran's "real" romance with socialite Aspen Schneider. Before I could even process the betrayal, Kieran sent me a cold, professional text: "Order flowers for Aspen. Pink peonies. Her favorite."
When I tried to walk away, my own mother called me a disgrace and threatened to lock my inheritance forever unless I married a sixty-year-old businessman to save her failing estate. At a high-society gala that same night, Aspen intentionally crushed my burned hand in front of the cameras, while Kieran stood by and dismissed me as a "mediocre assistant" who had overstayed her welcome.
I stood in the cold New York rain, drenched in champagne and humiliation, realizing that every sacrifice I made for Kieran was a joke. I was a ghost in a penthouse that was never mine, discarded the moment his "soulmate" returned. To the world, I was just a placeholder whose time had run out.
But Kieran forgot one thing: my father's multi-million dollar trust fund unlocks the moment I legally marry. I didn't need love; I needed a signature and a shield. I walked into a discreet law firm and signed a marriage contract with a man I believed was the city's most notorious, scandal-ridden playboy.
I thought I was marrying a degenerate "beard" to buy my freedom and secure my revenge. I didn't realize the man who signed that paper wasn't a playboy at all, but Gaston Collins-the most powerful and dangerous man on Wall Street-and he had no intention of letting our fake marriage stay fake. Wild Heiress, Tamed Billionaire
王舒 When I called my husband while trapped in a kidnapper's warehouse, he laughed. "Stop faking," he said, "my delicate mistress needs her sleep." He hung up. I signed the divorce papers drenched in my own blood, giving up everything just to escape the monster I married.
His mother threw a broken umbrella at me in the rain. I had nothing-no money, no identity, no hope.
But the moment I turned away, eight black Escalades encircled the street. A man in a tailored suit stepped out of a Rolls-Royce, shielding me with an umbrella. In his hand was a DNA test-and twenty-three years of relentless search.
"Your last name isn't Smith," he said, wiping blood from my wrist with his handkerchief. "It's Wilder. The Wilder family. And the man who left you to die?" He smiled, icy. "He owes us nine billion dollars." Zero Alimony: The CEO's Runaway Wife
Yue Manshuang I was hemorrhaging severely on the operating table, risking my life to deliver the billionaire Carlisle heir.
Through the unsealed door, I heard my husband Axel's cold, mechanical voice giving a ruthless order to the panicked doctors.
"Prioritize the heir. Above all else."
The ice spread through my veins as he reduced my entire existence to a mere vessel. After I barely survived the emergency delivery, his mother marched into my room, telling me I should be on my knees thanking God they kept me alive long enough to fulfill my only purpose. His sister barged in just to scream at me, calling me a manipulative gold-digger. And Axel? He didn't ask about my pain. He simply stared at me like a CEO evaluating a damaged asset, eventually kidnapping me from the hospital and threatening to use his Wall Street power to ensure I would never see my newborn son again.
I had secretly loved this man for years, swallowing my pride and enduring his toxic family's abuse, only to realize that in my most vulnerable moment, my life meant absolutely nothing to him. Why did I ever think I could melt his icy heart?
My heart simply stopped breaking and turned to solid stone. I bypassed his billions, called a top-tier litigator, and handed Axel a zero-alimony divorce agreement, waiving every single cent of his fortune just to make a clean break. 
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