George B
10 Published Stories
George B's Books and Stories
He Built Two Families, I Was Only Half of One
Romance Mia Hayes thought her life was perfect, eight years married to Ethan Miller, living a glamorous Manhattan life she believed was built on deep love.
Then, at a Central Park fundraiser, a small boy called my husband, Ethan, "Daddy," shattering my illusion of marital bliss.
His flimsy explanation about his assistant's orphaned son crumbled when I unearthed hidden photos and emails, revealing a secret family—a pregnant Jessica Vance and five years of Leo’s life—that ripped apart our perfect illusion.
When I confronted him, his facade shattered, replaced by a desperate rage that turned our opulent penthouse into a cage, where he brutalized me, claiming it was to "save us."
The horror escalated when his mistress, Jessica, unlocked my prison, not to rescue but to kidnap me, dragging me to a dilapidated motel where she orchestrated my public degradation to destroy my reputation.
How could the man I loved, the partner I trusted implicitly, be living a double life for years, with a child he denied me, only to subject me to such unspeakable violence and public humiliation?
But with the unwavering support of my family and lawyer, I fought back, opting for memory suppression to wall off the trauma, only to have it brutally resurface when Ethan, now a desperate shell, tried to force his way back into my life.
This time, empowered by a painful truth, I chose to face him, not as a victim, but as a woman reborn, ready to utterly erase him from my world and build a future free from his monstrous shadow. Done Being A Shadow: The Wife's Escape
Modern On the day I finally pried open the locked drawer in Marcus’s study, I didn't find a surprise anniversary gift.
I found a shrine to my father's business partner, Izzy.
Photos of a woman who looked exactly like me stared back.
That was when I realized my marriage was nothing more than an expensive lie. I wasn't his wife; I was a customized substitute for the woman he couldn't have.
The nightmare worsened when scalding soup was spilled at a restaurant.
Marcus didn't hesitate.
He threw his body over Izzy to shield her, leaving me to take the full force of the burns.
Later, while I lay in the hospital bandaged and in agony, he didn't come to comfort me.
He came to demand I donate a kidney to save Izzy.
"If we both needed a kidney, who would you choose?" I asked him, desperate for a lie.
"Izzy," he said instantly. "She has so much more to do."
He didn't know I was pregnant.
He didn't know that while he was begging me to save his mistress, the stress was killing his unborn child.
I wiped my tears and laughed.
"Okay," I said.
I signed the divorce papers and left them on his desk.
On top of them, I placed a medical report dated that morning: *Spontaneous Abortion.*
Then, I boarded a one-way flight to Montana and vanished, leaving him to wake up to a world where he had saved his mistress but killed his family. Death of a Love, Birth of a Ghost
Horror My sister Ivanna's son was dying. His leukemia had returned, and he needed a bone marrow transplant immediately.
My husband, Jaimen, didn't hesitate. His cold eyes landed on our five-year-old daughter, Lily, playing in the corner.
"Use Lily's," he said. "Her marrow is a perfect match."
When I refused, he and my own sister pinned me to the floor. They ignored my screams as doctors held down my terrified daughter and performed the extraction.
They took too much. Lily died the next day of cardiac arrest. Then, they had me beaten and dumped my body in a dark alley, leaving me to die alone.
For three years, Jaimen believed I had run away out of spite. He cursed my name, telling everyone I was a venomous woman who had murdered our daughter to get back at him.
Now, Timothy's leukemia is back, and Jaimen has launched a massive, city-wide manhunt. He is threatening to torture my mother to force me out of hiding, vowing to break my legs and make me kneel.
He has no idea his search will lead him to two graves.
And that my ghost is watching his every move, waiting for the moment he finally learns the truth. His Obsession, Her Agony
Romance "I want a divorce, Ethan."
The words came out, quiet but steady, hanging in the sterile air as my husband, Ethan, stopped swirling the amber liquid in his glass. He didn' t look at me, but at my reflection in the dark, floor-to-ceiling window.
"No," he stated, his eyes cold and empty, "You' re my wife, Autumn. You don' t get to leave."
I clutched my suitcase, my knuckles white, heart a frantic drum. He smiled, a slow, cruel curve of his lips, a monster I now saw clearly. "Aren' t you? I own this house. I own the clothes you' re wearing. I own your career, what' s left of it."
He ignored my whispered pleas, stroked my hair, then grabbed my arm, fingers digging in. "After what you did? After you killed your sister?" The old accusation, his favorite weapon, slicing me open. "You drove her to it. She' s dead because of you. And you will spend the rest of your life making it up to me."
Tears burned my eyes as he yanked me closer, the smell of whiskey on his breath. "You belong to me. In this life and the next. Did you forget your vows? Till death do us part." His hand connected with my cheek, a sharp crack, and I fell, tasting blood.
He loomed, not a trace of remorse. "This is your fault, Autumn. All of it." He nudged my suitcase. "Unpack. We' re having dinner with my business partners tonight. Wear the blue dress. And smile."
Lying there, a plan began to form. He was right about one thing. Only death would part us. So I would die. His Wife's Deadly Deception
Romance The memory of our eighth anniversary was burned into my mind, a perfect image of how my life fell apart.
My wife, Olivia, tearfully confessed to a one-night stand, blaming her assistant, Leo.
She even picked up a shard of broken wine glass and dragged it across her arm.
I loved her, and consumed by my own pain and desperate to save our marriage, I chose to believe her.
Two years later, Leo sat across from me in a coffee shop, smug, and ready to shatter my world.
"She played you for a fool, Ethan," he said, sliding a thick manila envelope across the table.
Inside were photographs: Olivia and Leo, together, smiling, happy.
Three years. A timeline that meant she was with him even before she "confessed."
Then came the final blow: "Our son, Ethan. He's a year old now. Looks just like me."
My world tilted, every intimate moment, every shared smile, every "I love you" of the past three years twisting into a grotesque lie.
When I confronted Olivia, her response was chilling, laced with a casual defiance that curdled my blood.
"The Hayes family doesn't do divorce," she said, her voice dropping to a low, chilling tone. "We only get widowed."
The woman I loved was a monster, seeing me as a tool, an obstacle in her elaborate scheme.
Trapped, I knew I couldn't fight her family's power.
There was only one person who could help me disappear so completely she would think I was dead.
I dialed the number to my estranged sister, Sarah, the family ghost. The Outcast's Wife: A Clarkson Reclaimed
Romance They say everything' s bigger in Texas, and in my family, that included our legacy: the Clarkson golden bloodline, a unique line of genetically superior cattle that made us legends.
I was raised to see the world through that lens, to spot vitality and prime breeding stock not just in our herds, but in the men I was expected to marry.
In my last life, that precise skill failed me.
It led me straight to Ethan Scott, the epitome of peak genetic fitness, and it led me to my death.
He drained me of my "vital blood" to save his frail girlfriend, Jennifer, leaving me bleeding out on a stable floor, our unborn children dying with me. His face, handsome and utterly unconcerned, was the last thing I saw before darkness took me.
He took everything. My life, my future, our children. And Jennifer died anyway, making my brutal sacrifice utterly meaningless.
My only witness, my only mourner, was Caleb Hughes, the broken outcast of the badlands, who found my body and gave me a quiet burial.
Why him? Why would the man marketed as perfect, with flawless genes, be capable of such chilling, casual cruelty? How could I have been so wrong?
But now, I am reborn.
I'm standing in our grand living room, my parents beaming, and before me stand six men-the "finest young men in Texas"-including Ethan Scott, smiling his same charming, deadly smile. My mother says it' s time to choose.
This time, I' ve already made my choice. And it' s not him. The Gala of Lies: A Paternity Unveiled
Billionaires My son, Leo, basked in victory's glow, surrounded by the city's elite. As a self-made billionaire, this night was entirely his.
Then, my wife, Seraphina, drifted into the ballroom, her conniving lover, Damien, trailing.
With an Oscar-worthy performance, she silenced the room, dropping a bombshell: "Marcus is infertile," she declared, trembling. "Leo is Damien' s son, conceived through secret IVF!"
Gasps, whispers, scorn washed over me. Leo, my proud son, reeled, angrily defending me. Seraphina, playing the martyr, insisted a DNA test, due any minute, would prove her "sacrifice." Every eye focused on me, waiting for my world to crumble.
Humiliation burned, but beneath it, a cold certainty.
They thought they had me exposed as a deceived husband, my legacy a lie. How could I possibly recover from such a meticulously planned, public betrayal?
But as Seraphina triumphantly ripped open her "proof," her smile froze. "He's excluded," she stammered. My moment arrived.
I pulled out my own, immaculately prepared documents, ready to reveal not just my true paternity, but the unbelievable truth about Leo's biological mother-a secret I'd guarded for years. This wasn't a defeat; it was a trap, and they'd walked right into it. The Surrogate's Ordeal
Sci-fi Sarah Miller believed in her perfect marriage to Michael Thompson, a kind, strong former Army Ranger.
He gifted her a silver locket, a cherished heirloom for "protection," a symbol of their unbreakable love.
But Michael's attention increasingly shifted to Chloe Ashford, a fragile D.C. power broker's daughter, whom he claimed he had to protect.
Sarah felt a growing unease, unaware the locket he gave her was covertly monitoring her, its hidden circuitry linked directly to Chloe.
One night, Sarah overheard Michael on a secure line: "Protocol Seven is active... Pre-emptive measures for the Surrogate."
Immediately, she was ambushed, abducted, and brutally tortured.
As her locket snapped, it exposed its true, sinister purpose, broadcasting Michael's cold, professional directives to her tormentors.
He was using her agony as a "diversion" for Chloe's "stabilization."
Her entire marriage was a calculated lie, her role a disposable "Surrogate" for the mysterious "Aegis Initiative."
The ultimate betrayal struck when she realized she was pregnant with his child, a life imperiled by his monstrous orchestration.
How could the man she loved, her protector, willingly destroy her and their baby for another?
Then came the tearing pain; her baby, sacrificed for Chloe, was gone.
With her last agonizing breath, Sarah hid truth-telling evidence, ensuring her story, though tragic, would become Michael' s chilling reckoning.
This was the prelude to a terrifying cascade of events where love became a weapon, and secrets refused to stay buried. The Face In The Footage
Sci-fi My name is Sarah Miller, and I’m reliving the worst day of my life.
I’ve already lived this nightmare once: my five-year-old daughter, Emily, gone.
She’s found drowned, and chilling security footage shows *me* pushing her into the pond.
The first time, I was branded "Monster Mom," a "Child Killer," and died in prison, screaming my innocence.
My parents withered under the shame.
But I woke up, back on that same Tuesday.
I vowed to change everything, locked every door, kept Emily home.
Yet, she vanished from our locked house.
And the footage? It still shows *me* pushing her.
My husband, Mark, erupted in rage, my mother-in-law shrieked accusations as I was arrested.
How can this be happening again? I changed everything! The house was secure!
Who is doing this? Who is truly framing me in this impossible loop?
As the handcuffs clicked, a desperate, insane lie tore from me: "It wasn't me! It was my parents! They’re the killers!"
This shocking accusation, born of raw anguish, bought me precious time.
It forced the police to look beyond the obvious, leading them to a fake preschool setup and the terrifying truth: my identical twin sister, Jessica, thought long dead, was alive.
And she wanted my life. You might like
He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him
SHANA GRAY The sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her.
Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. "Mr. Kensington," the nurse's voice cracked, "your wife... she's critical." A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. "Liam is in the shower," Seraphina's voice purred. "Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low." Then, Liam's bored voice: "If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning." Click. The line went dead.
A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living.
Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body.
Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back. After Divorce: My Arrogant Ex Regrets Calling Me Trash
Sea Jet Aurora woke up to the sterile chill of her king-sized bed in Sterling Thorne's penthouse. Today was the day her husband would finally throw her out like garbage. Sterling walked in, tossed divorce papers at her, and demanded her signature, eager to announce his "eligible bachelor" status to the world.
In her past life, the sight of those papers had broken her, leaving her begging for a second chance. Sterling's sneering voice, calling her a "trailer park girl" undeserving of his name, had once cut deeper than any blade. He had always used her humble beginnings to keep her small, to make her grateful for the crumbs of his attention. She had lived a gilded cage, believing she was nothing without him, until her life flatlined in a hospital bed, watching him give a press conference about his "grief."
But this time, she felt no sting, no tears. Only a cold, clear understanding of the mediocre man who stood on a pedestal she had painstakingly built with her own genius.
Aurora signed the papers, her name a declaration of independence. She grabbed her old, phoenix-stickered laptop, ready to walk out. Sterling Thorne was about to find out exactly how expensive "free" could be. His Twisted Game, My Dangerous Love
Elroy Notman Vesper's marriage to Julian Sterling was a gilded cage. One morning, she woke naked beside Damon Sterling, Julian's terrifying brother, then found a text: Julian's mistress was pregnant. Her world shattered, but the real nightmare had just begun.
Julian's abuse escalated, gaslighting Vesper, funding his secret life. Damon, a germaphobic billionaire, became her unsettling anchor amidst his chaos.
As "Iris," Vesper exposed Julian's mistress, Serena Sharp, sparking brutal war: poisoned drinks, a broken leg, and the horrifying truth-Julian murdered her parents, trapping Vesper in marriage.
The man she married was a killer. Broken and betrayed, Vesper was caught between monstrous brothers, burning with injustice.
Refusing victimhood, Vesper reclaimed her identity. Fueled by vengeance, she allied with Damon, who vowed to burn his empire for her. Julian faced justice, but matriarch Eleanor's counterattack forced Vesper's choice as a hitman aimed for her. Reborn Rich, My Vengeance Rises
Rabbit My husband, Ethan Vance, made me his trophy wife. My best friend, Susanna Thorne, helped me pick out my wedding dress. Together, they made me a fool.
For three years, I was Mrs. Ethan Vance, a decorative silence in his billion-dollar world, living a quiet routine until a forgotten phone charger led me to his office.
The low, feminine laugh from behind his door was a gut-punch; inside, I found Ethan and Susanna, my "best friend" and his CMO, tangled on his sofa, his only reaction irritation.
My divorce declaration brought immediate scorn and threats. I was fired, my accounts frozen, and publicly smeared as an unstable gold-digger. Even my own family disowned me for my last cent, only for me to be framed for assault and served a restraining order.
Broke, injured, and utterly demonized, they believed I was broken, too ashamed to fight. But their audacious betrayal and relentless cruelty only forged a cold, unyielding resolve.
Slumped alone, a restraining order in hand, I remembered my hidden journal: a log of Ethan's insider trading secrets. They wanted a monster? I would show them one. HIS DOE, HIS DAMNATION(An Erotic Billionaire Romance)
Viviene Trigger/Content Warning:
This story contains mature themes and explicit content intended for adult audiences(18+). Reader discretion is advised.
It includes elements such as BDSM dynamics, explicit sexual content, toxic family relationships, occasional violence and strong language.
This is not a fluffy romance. It is intense, raw and messy, and explores the darker side of desire.
*****
"Take off your dress, Meadow."
"Why?"
"Because your ex is watching," he said, leaning back into his seat. "And I want him to see what he lost."
••••*••••*••••*
Meadow Russell was supposed to get married to the love of her life in Vegas. Instead, she walked in on her twin sister riding her fiance.
One drink at the bar turned to ten. One drunken mistake turned into reality. And one stranger's offer turned into a contract that she signed with shaking hands and a diamond ring.
Alaric Ashford is the devil in a tailored Tom Ford suit. Billionaire CEO, brutal, possessive. A man born into an empire of blood and steel.
He also suffers from a neurological condition-he can't feel. Not objects, not pain, not even human touch.
Until Meadow touches him, and he feels everything. And now he owns her. On paper and in his bed.
She wants him to ruin her. Take what no one else could have. He wants control, obedience... revenge.
But what starts as a transaction slowly turns into something Meadow never saw coming.
Obsession, secrets that were never meant to surface, and a pain from the past that threatens to break everything.
Alaric doesn't share what's his.
Not his company.
Not his wife.
And definitely not his vengeance.
Burned By Him, Reborn A Star
Rabbit The acrid smell of smoke still clung to Evelyn in the ambulance, her lungs raw from the penthouse fire. She was alive, but the world around her felt utterly destroyed, a feeling deepened by the small TV flickering to life. On it, her husband, Julian Vance, thousands of miles away, publicly comforted his mistress, Serena Holloway, shielding her from paparazzi after *her* "panic attack."
Julian's phone went straight to voicemail. Alone in the hospital with second-degree burns, Evelyn watched news replays, her heart rate spiking. He protected Serena from camera flashes while Evelyn burned. When he finally called, he demanded she handle insurance, dismissing the fire; Serena's voice faintly heard.
The shallow family ties and pretense of marriage evaporated. A searing injustice and cold anger replaced pain; Evelyn knew Julian had chosen to let her burn.
"Evelyn Vance died in that fire," she declared, ripping out her IV. Armed with a secret fortune as "The Architect," Hollywood's top ghostwriter, she walked out. She would divorce Julian, reclaim her name, and finally step into the spotlight as an actress. My Husband's Blindness, My Sweet Revenge
Winnie Suchoff The roasted lamb was cold, a reflection of her marriage. On their third anniversary, Evelyn Vance waited alone in her Manhattan penthouse. Then her phone buzzed: Alexander, her husband, had been spotted leaving the hospital, holding his childhood sweetheart Scarlett Sharp's hand.
Alexander arrived hours later, dismissing Evelyn's quiet complaint with a cold reminder: she was Mrs. Vance, not a victim. Her mother's demands reinforced this role, making Evelyn, a brilliant mind, feel like a ghost. A dangerous indifference replaced betrayal. The debt was paid; now, it was her turn.
She drafted a divorce settlement, waiving everything. As Alexander's tender voice drifted from his study, speaking to Scarlett, Evelyn placed her wedding ring on his pillow, moved to the guest suite, and locked the door. The dull wife was gone; the Oracle was back. Pregnant and Divorced: I Hid His Heir
Shirlee Melnick Vivian clutched her Hermès bag, her doctor's words echoing: "Extremely high-risk pregnancy." She hoped the baby would save her cold marriage, but Julian wasn't in London as his schedule claimed. Instead, a paparazzi photo revealed his early return-with a blonde woman, not his wife, at the private airport exit.
The next morning, Julian served divorce papers, callously ending their "duty" marriage for his ex, Serena. A horrifying contract clause gave him the right to terminate her pregnancy or seize their child. Humiliated, demoted, and forced to fake an ulcer, Vivian watched him parade his affair, openly discarding her while celebrating Serena.
This was a calculated erasure, not heartbreak. He cared only for his image, confirming he would "handle" the baby himself. A primal rage ignited her. "Just us," she whispered to her stomach, vowing to sign the divorce on her terms, keep her secret safe, and walk away from Sterling Corp for good, ready to protect her child alone. My Contracted Husband, The Heartless CEO has Amnesia?
Audrey C Leilani Celeste was married to a Mafia Don, by the name Xenois Kingston on a contract marriage, that would last 6 years.
The deal was that Celeste would give him children during that period and after the end of the 6 year contract, he would offer her $100,000,000,000, divorce her and keep the children as his.
Celeste, an orphan, abandoned by the orphanage she grew up in at the age of 18 had nothing to lose and agreed to the deal.
6 years later, Celeste is now 24 years and mother to triplets boys; Lake, Troy and Soren. The contract is coming to an end this month and rumors has it that Xenois true love Claudia Hale is returning back to the city after 6 years of absence.
Xenois handed her the divorce papers that morning only for him to get into a car accident on the way to the hospital and suffers from amnesia.
To Xenois, he's in love with his wife and kids and a very attentive father and husband and is surprised to find out that Celeste planned on divorcing him. He is determined to make his wife fall for him and be a better father to their children. Things seem like a fairytale for Celeste who is desperate to hold on to this illusion after she had fallen for her husband in their third year of their marriage and stayed with an unrequited love. She knows what she's doing is cruel but she wants to enjoy it while it lasts.
But Claudia Hale won't rest until she gets rid of the obstacle named Celeste and marries her heartthrob Xenois.
Will Xenois recover his memory and better yet, once he does, does Celeste still stand a chance at winning the heart of her husband or would she be accused of having a hand in his amnesia. 
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