Gong Moxi
14 Published Stories
Gong Moxi's Books and Stories
Forced Marriage To The Alien General
Sci-fi Allegra woke up in a sterile alien hospital with no memory, no ID chip, and a terrifying snow leopard General claiming responsibility for her crash.
But a routine ID scan at a local boutique shattered her fragile cover.
The machine shrieked, flashing a fatal red warning: NO NEURAL LINK DETECTED.
She was a "Ghost"—an illegal, unregistered biological entity in a ruthless Hybrid Empire.
The boutique locked down instantly. Heavily armed police swarmed the plaza, laser sights painting her chest red.
She was dragged into a subterranean military black site, where a manic geneticist tested her blood and discovered the impossible truth.
She wasn't a Hybrid. She was a pure Homo Sapiens—an extinct race whose mere presence could cure the Hybrids' fatal Psyche collapse.
To keep her all to himself, the scientist lied to the General, branding her a toxic, mutating bio-weapon.
Forced by Imperial law, the General abandoned her to the scientist's cruel custody.
Allegra was locked inside a reinforced glass cage in the deepest isolation ward, waiting to be dissected.
She huddled on the floor, trembling in absolute despair.
She didn't belong in this nightmare world. Why was she being treated like a monster? Why did this madman look at her like a prize to be torn apart?
Watching the scientist's fox ears twitch in manic stress outside the glass, her human empathy momentarily overrode her terror.
She stood up and pressed her palm against the glass, perfectly aligning it with his.
"Don't be so nervous, Mr. Fox."
Instantly, an invisible wave of human resonance flooded his core, shattering his genetic madness.
The terrifying predator was reduced to a whimpering, devoted puppy, pressing himself against the window in absolute submission.
Allegra slowly pulled her hand back, her heart skipping a beat.
Well, she thought, that changes things. Too Late For Regret: My Ex-Husband's Downfall
Modern Colette Bentley gripped her terminal leukemia diagnosis, her world shattering. Her only comfort was that her husband, Edwardo, was the country's foremost hematologist.
But when she called him, desperate for a lifeline, she didn't hear his reassuring voice. Instead, she heard the playful voice of her own sister, Cleo.
"Edwardo, hurry up. The water's getting cold..."
As Colette stood outside an exclusive club hours later, collapsing in a pool of her own blood, Edwardo was busy pressing Cleo against his car and gifting her diamonds.
He ignored Colette's emergency calls, coldly texting back that he was too busy to be bothered.
When Colette miraculously secured a single, priceless vial of an experimental drug to save her own life, Edwardo broke into her private safe and stole it.
He fed her life-saving medicine to his mistress to treat a minor symptom, smiling proudly as he claimed he knew Colette wanted to help.
"I confirmed it was the VX-7 compound and gave it to Cleo. The effect was miraculous."
He had completely erased her existence, casually sentencing his own wife to death to play the hero for the woman who ruined her marriage. How could a doctor who swore to save lives be so monstrous?
But Colette wasn't going to die quietly in the shadows.
She slapped the smug smile off his face, extorted a hundred-million-dollar divorce settlement, and walked into a rival research institute. This time, she chose to live for herself. The White Wolf's Vengeance: A Queen Returns
Werewolf I was dying at the banquet, coughing up black blood while the pack celebrated my step-sister Lydia’s promotion.
Across the room, Caleb, the Alpha and my Fated Mate, didn't look concerned. He looked annoyed.
"Stop it, Elena," his voice boomed in my head. "Don't ruin this night with your attention-seeking lies."
I begged him, telling him it was poison, but he just ordered me to leave his Pack House so I wouldn't dirty the floor.
Heartbroken, I publicly demanded the Severing Ceremony to break our bond and left to die alone in a cheap motel.
Only after I took my last breath did the truth come out.
I sent Caleb the medical records proving Lydia had been poisoning my tea with wolfsbane for ten years.
He went mad with grief, realizing he had protected the murderer and rejected his true mate. He tortured Lydia, but his regret couldn't bring me back.
Or so he thought.
In the afterlife, the Moon Goddess showed me my reflection. I wasn't a wolfless weakling.
I was a White Wolf, the rarest and most powerful of all, suppressed by poison.
"You can stay here in peace," the Goddess said. "Or you can go back."
I looked at the life they stole from me. I looked at the power I never got to use.
"I want to go back," I said. "Not for his love. But for revenge."
I opened my eyes, and for the first time in my life, my wolf roared. Broken Engagement, Unleashed Heiress's Fury
Modern My fiancé, Chadwick Steele, always treated me like a dirty secret-the nerdy brains behind his glamorous tech empire. He flaunted his affair with his mistress, Isa, while constantly reminding me I was an embarrassment he was forced to tolerate.
That all came to a head in a crowded mall. In front of everyone, he publicly broke our engagement, choosing her over me and leaving me to her mercy.
But Isa wasn't satisfied with just winning. She had Chadwick's bodyguards pin me to the floor.
She slapped me, kicked me, and then pulled out a silver letter opener. As she carved a bloody gash across my cheek, she laughed about teaching me a permanent lesson for daring to exist in her world.
I was bleeding and broken, my spirit completely shattered. I thought it was over.
Then, a custom Rolls-Royce pulled up. My mother, Frederica Mooney-the silent titan of Silicon Valley who secretly bankrolls the entire Steele family fortune-stepped out. She took one look at my face, her eyes turning to ice, and gave me the only words I needed to hear: "I give you my full permission." The Heiress's Reckoning: Ten Years Lies
Romance The man who once took a bullet for me stood in our living room, demanding I apologize to his pregnant mistress. He was the broke kid I'd made into a CEO, the foundation of my world. Now, that foundation was a sinkhole.
But the real betrayal came from his mistress's lips. She whispered that Jacob had orchestrated the car accident that caused my miscarriage years ago, claiming he never wanted a child with a "cold, barren bitch" like me.
He tried to move her into my house, painting me as the villain in our story. He paraded their love for the world to see, buying her islands and diamonds while I was cast aside as the city's ice queen.
The love I had for him, built on what I thought was shared grief over our lost son, turned to ash. It was all a lie. Ten years of my life, a carefully staged play he directed.
But he forgot who I am. At a grand gala meant to celebrate his new life, I crashed the party. With the evidence in hand and my allies at my side, I was ready to burn his empire to the ground and make him pay for every single lie. The Engagement's End, A New Beginning
Romance Tonight was supposed to be the most important night of my life, the official announcement of my engagement to Mark Landon.
But as we stood on the dais to make our toast, another woman-Isabel-let out a theatrical cry and crumpled to the floor.
Before I could process what was happening, Mark shoved me. He pushed me aside to get to her, his arm connecting with my shoulder with brutal, dismissive force.
The shove sent me stumbling backward off the platform. I landed hard on the polished marble floor, a collective gasp echoing through the stunned ballroom as my world shattered.
He didn't even glance at me. He helped a perfectly fine Isabel to her feet, tucked her protectively against his side, and then glared down at me, his face a thunderous mask of fury.
"Look what your jealousy has caused!" he snarled, his voice echoing in the silence.
"This engagement is over! I will not be bound to a woman so consumed by petty envy!"
The words were a physical blow. The pain in my soul was so intense it stole my breath, a searing agony as the bond I thought we shared was violently ripped away. The room spun as the pain dropped me to my knees.
Kicked out a service exit, I collapsed in a filthy back alley, my body finally succumbing to a strange illness that had been draining me for weeks.
Just as darkness closed in, a sleek black car screeched to a halt. A man emerged, impossibly tall and radiating an aura of power that made Mark seem like a spoiled child.
He knelt, his stormy eyes locking onto the silver locket our family doctor had pressed into my hand moments before.
His voice was a low, resonant rumble that vibrated through the very ground. "I have found her."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over my face, his expression a chilling mixture of triumph and ice.
"My true fated mate... and the daughter of the woman who destroyed my family." His Ex, My Ruined Wedding
Romance My wedding day was supposed to be the happiest day of my life, a promise of forever with Ethan, the man I loved.
But then, an unexpected call on the eve of our wedding, from his ex, Brittany-a woman he' d always painted as unstable and manipulative-shattered the illusion.
She pleaded for Ethan to visit her dying mother, a plea Ethan scoffed at, dismissing it as another one of her pathetic stunts to ruin his happiness.
I tried to trust him, to push down the unsettling feeling that her raw grief had felt painfully real.
The next day, as I stood at the altar, ready to say "I do," the grand doors creaked open. Brittany stood there, clad in black, clutching a funeral urn.
She announced her mother was dead, and that Ethan' s refusal to see her was the cause, pulling him away from me, from our wedding, with a single, heart-wrenchwrenching accusation.
He abandoned me at the altar, rushing to comfort her, seemingly forgetting I even existed.
The man I was meant to marry was embracing his ex, whispering apologies, while I stood there, witnessing the death of our future.
Why was he so easily swayed? How could he believe her manipulated tears over everything we had?
I wanted answers, I wanted to understand how my perfect day had become a stage for her twisted drama.
I just wanted to make them pay for destroying my life. My Ex's Unseen Son
Romance Her world revolved around the sterile precision of Boston General, a frantic pace that helped Evie outrun a haunting premonitory dream.
Then he returned: Dr. Julian Vance, her former fiancé and the brilliant surgeon whose abrupt departure had shattered her four years prior.
He wasn't alone; a stunning woman in a pristine white dress, just like her dream, was by his side, introduced as his fiancée.
His cool, dismissive gaze, devoid of any shared past, was a stark reminder of their painful ending.
He publicly dismissed their intense history as "nothing," twisting the knife of her past, desperate attempt to secure his future.
Julian's fiancée, Victoria, a woman straight from Evie' s nightmare, systematically dismantled her reputation, turning colleagues into a whispering gallery of judgment.
The final, brutal blow came when Julian, a cardiothoracic genius, coldly refused to operate on Evie' s dying father, abandoning him to succumb to his illness.
How could the man she once loved, a man sworn to save lives, deliver such a cruel, calculated act of revenge?
Was all their shared history, all her past sacrifice, truly worthless to him, or was this a deeper, colder malice she couldn't comprehend?
The raw pain and burning hatred consumed her, every breath a testament to his unforgivable betrayal.
With nothing left but fractured dreams and a hollow heart, Evie packed a single bag, determined to outrun Boston, him, and the wreckage of a life defined by his cruelty. Rewound: Exam Day Revenge
Young Adult I woke up to the familiar rumble of thunder, the bruised purple sky mirroring the dread in my stomach: exam day.
It was all happening again, precisely like last time.
Last time, Kevin, my earnest ex, held us back for Brie, the school' s queen bee, who, ever the drama, insisted on a "critical influencer photoshoot."
We were late, of course.
But the real disaster wasn't just missing the exam.
Later, at a supposed peace offering, Brie handed me a coffee.
It was laced with tree nuts, my deadliest allergen.
I died.
Kevin and his "Elites" lied, claiming I was distraught and ate something by accident.
Brie played victim online, painting me as the bully, while my mother' s quest for justice shattered her life.
Having lived through that betrayal, that humiliation, that fatal setup once, to wake up here again on this exact morning felt like a second chance – not just at life, but at cosmic rebalancing.
Why was I back?
This time, I wouldn't say a single word.
Let them wait.
Let them miss their exam.
Let them ruin their own lives.
My future at MIT was already secure.
Theirs, however, was about to unravel, with me watching from the sidelines. The Ballerina's Second Act
Romance My life was a perfect ballet: Juilliard-bound, adored by Ethan Miller, the golden boy everyone envied.
Our future shone brighter than any stage light.
Then, the crash. A blinding flash, then darkness.
I woke up to a hospital room, my ballerina legs amputated, a devastating gift from Jess, Ethan' s obsessed ex, who' d deliberately run me down. Every dream shattered.
But the real nightmare began when I uncovered Ethan's secret.
The man who vowed 'forever,' whose hand I clung to, was secretly comforting Jess, his 'enemy,' filling her with false hope and a twisted compassion. His perfect devotion was a suffocating lie, driving me deeper into a pit of physical and emotional agony.
How could the man I loved betray me so utterly, with the very person who destroyed my life? The whys screamed in my head, a desperate, hollow echo in a world turned to ash.
With nothing left but the unbearable pain, I sought the final escape. But instead of an end, I found a terrifying twist: I woke up in a hospital bed, three years earlier, my legs miraculously whole, memories of my devastating demise burning clear.
This time, I would rewrite my tragic fate and break free from this cursed cycle. Nineteen Nights To Oblivion
Romance I was Sarah Miller, an architect with big dreams, when I married Ethan Caldwell, the golden boy of Manhattan.
I truly believed in love, that our quiet city hall wedding was just the beginning of our grand adventure.
But my new life in his lavish penthouse quickly became a gilded cage.
His stepmother, Victoria – his father' s younger wife, and Ethan' s undeniable obsession – revealed the sinister truth.
I was a mere placeholder, a convenient beard, and she dared me: nineteen nights to win his heart, or vanish.
My desperate attempts to connect were met with cold indifference.
He left me trapped in a burning cafe, rushing to Victoria' s side. He demanded I lie to the press, destroying my reputation to save hers. Then, when a chemical attack struck, he shielded her, letting the corrosive liquid burn me.
My love wasn't gradually eroded; it was systematically executed. How could I have been so blind, so foolish, so utterly disposable? The physical scars paled in comparison to the gaping wound in my soul.
But this wasn't the end of my story, only the beginning of my true one.
I broke free, rebuilt a life from the ashes, and found real love. He eventually saw Victoria's true colors and desperately tried to win me back, only to find himself crashing my engagement party.
He came seeking me, but found only the cold, unyielding shell of the woman he' d destroyed. He thought I was his to reclaim, but the love he squandered was irrevocably dead. The Prince's Broken Promises
Romance Our love was a rebel song, forbidden by the Devereaux family's rigid rules.
I was Ella, a blues singer from Bourbon Street, and he was Beau, the Prince of Prytania, who swore his heart was irrevocably mine.
He chose me, even when his powerful family threatened to disinherit him.
"It's you and me, Ella, always," he vowed.
I wore his promises like my grandmother's treasured locket.
But the Devereauxs changed tactics.
A new cruelty.
They gave Beau an ultimatum: produce an heir with a "suitable" woman.
He begged me to understand, a "formality" before we could truly be together.
Then Savannah Sinclair, polished and ambitious, entered our lives.
Soon, Savannah was pregnant, and the "little longer" stretched into an eternity.
Savannah became a constant, cruel presence, plotting against me at every turn.
She maliciously framed me for harming their newborn daughter, Charlotte, planting "evidence" and staging hysterical outbursts.
My protests fell on deaf ears; Beau let his parents lock me in a cold guesthouse.
"Why, Ella? Why would you hurt my child?" Beau asked, his voice like shards of glass.
My heart shattered.
His child, not ours.
Where was the man who once shielded me?
Then, Savannah escalated, wearing my grandmother's locket, brazenly claiming Beau gave it to her.
When I lunged for it, she feigned injury, shrieking about her "baby."
Beau rushed in, his rage blinding him.
He shoved me hard, my head cracking against marble.
Before I could explain, his father, Augustus, raised his hand and struck me across the face.
Beau watched it all, his back turned to me, to the truth, to everything we had ever been.
His silence was consent.
His inaction was betrayal.
In that agonizing moment, I knew: I had to get out.
I would leave, but not before they learned the cost of their cruelty. The Bride Who Vanished: His Public Humiliation
Modern I woke up to the acrid smell of smoke and the piercing screams from the university's burning arts building.
My twin sister, Chloe, was trapped inside.
My boyfriend, Ryan Ashton, stood poised to run, a heroic silhouette against the licking flames.
But a memory, sharp and cold, sliced through me – my first life, a nightmare I' d lived and died.
I remembered him shoving me, my hand smashing against debris, crushing the bones and ending my promising violin career.
Chloe died anyway, yet he blamed me, publicly shaming me.
He then married me.
Not for love, but for a twisted, prolonged revenge.
He systematically broke me down, convinced everyone I was a monster, even my own parents who coldly agreed, calling me selfish.
My existence became a quiet, constant hell until he locked me in a suffocating room, leaving me to die.
Now, it was happening again: the fire, the screams, Ryan ready to play the savior.
Every agonizing moment, every betrayal, every whispered accusation from my family hammered in my mind.
The sheer, burning injustice of my first life fueled a new, chilling resolve.
But this time, I knew.
This time, I would break the cycle.
I stepped aside.
He charged headlong into the inferno, screaming Chloe' s name, never once looking back at me.
My hands remained perfect, unscathed.
My future was mine alone.
This time, destiny would be rewritten.
This time, my revenge would be a symphony. You might like
The 100% Lie
Gavin For ten years, I lived my perfect California dream.
A tech CEO husband, a brilliant son, a sprawling mansion, and a System telling me my husband' s affection was a solid 100%.
This was my hard-earned reward, my permanent escape from a gray Ohio past.
Then the doorbell rang and everything shattered.
Standing there was Chloe Davis, Mark' s college sweetheart, looking unsettlingly like me.
My shy son, Leo, ran and hugged her, crying, "Aunt Chloe!"
My smile vanished.
My perfect life spiraled into a nightmare.
Mark abandoned me burning with fever to celebrate Chloe' s birthday with our son, then shamelessly lied about car troubles.
I found his phone password wasn't our anniversary, but hers.
And when Chloe deliberately triggered my severe shellfish allergy, my own husband stood by, indifferent, declaring, "Chloe is pregnant with my child."
The System still glowed with 100% affection, but that number felt like a cruel, meaningless lie.
Was I just a temporary placeholder, an understudy until the original returned to play my part?
Had my entire perfect life been a meticulously crafted deception?
When the System' s emergency protocol saved me from certain death, something inside me snapped.
The truth was unbearable, but clear.
I was out.
Time to reclaim my real self, even if it meant leaving everything behind. The Last Call: From Star to Scapegoat
Zhi Yao My life was a blueprint for success.
Ethan Miller, a rising star in architecture, about to claim the American Horizon Architectural Prize, surrounded by my loving sister Ashley, my beautiful fiancée Victoria, and even my adopted brother Jason.
But one call, one dark warehouse, shattered it all.
Ambushed, my hands crushed, my career obliterated, I woke to a nightmare.
My own sister and fiancée, the women I trusted most, confessed to orchestrating the brutal attack to clear the path for Jason’s success.
They abandoned me in an earthquake, then left me for dead on an exploding yacht, all while publicly slandering my name to cover their tracks.
The betrayal was a pain far deeper than any broken bone, a horrifying injustice that twisted my soul.
Why them? Why Jason? Why this absolute destruction of my life?
But just as despair threatened to consume me, a mysterious offer emerged: "reforging" through Phoenix BioGenesis.
I accepted, not for healing, but for a chilling rebirth, returning as a ghost of my former self, a silent observer ready to meticulously dismantle the lives of those who thought they had won.
This time, the masterpiece would be my revenge. Betrayal's Echo: A Wife's Revenge
Huang Xiaohuai Dr. Evelyn Reed had finally done it.
Three years of relentless work, the neural interface cure for her paralyzed husband, Ethan, was a success.
A triumphant smile touched her lips as she reached for her phone to share the life-changing news.
But an email caught her eye, a cheerful invitation that turned her world to ice.
"Dr. Ethan Vance and Miss Tiffany Reed request the pleasure of your company at the celebration of their marriage."
Ethan. Her husband. Tiffany. Her own niece.
It was a sick joke, a complete error, yet the high-end Parisian wedding agency confirmed its legitimacy.
Her joy evaporated, replaced by a cold dread as she drove through the night, a ghost to a celebration she was never meant to see.
She saw him there, standing, whole, laughing, with Tiffany tucked into his arm, radiant in white.
He kissed her, a tender kiss meant for the world to see, and Evelyn' s world tilted off its axis.
Then she heard them talking, overheard their cruel confessions: he had always loved Tiffany, while Evelyn was merely "a necessary step," "a convenient solution."
The man she had sacrificed everything for, the man who had promised his undying love, had been betraying her for two years with her own blood.
The pain of betrayal, the hollowness of her sacrifice, the absolute injustice of it all, left her hollowed out, empty of tears.
She watched him walk away from her in the hospital, choosing Tiffany, right after a fire, right after she found out a bomb, orchestrated by Tiffany, nearly killed her.
This wasn't a love triangle; it was a war, and she was losing.
Driven by a quiet, ice-cold resolve, Evelyn began to fight back. Stolen Code, Broken Heart, Fierce Comeback
Gu Mumu The flickering TV in my dingy motel room was the only light, illuminating the peeling wallpaper.
On screen, Ethan Vance, my ex-fiancé, smiled his perfect, camera-ready smile, touting 'EvolveAI' and his "future-defining" Prometheus algorithm.
Reporters swarmed him; he was the king of Silicon Valley, the brilliant mind behind the world' s most advanced AI.
My world. My code. My future. He had stolen it all. Everything.
I remembered the day he left, his eyes cold and empty, my three years of coding on a hard drive in his bag, a venomous "You were always just… holding me back."
He didn't just take the code; he took my savings, my reputation, blacklisting me from an industry I helped build, all while Bethany Cole, my best friend, stood arm-in-arm with him, eyes gleaming with triumph.
They left me with nothing but eviction notices, forcing me to sell everything I owned, living as a ghost under pseudonyms, cleaning up security flaws for companies that would never hire Scarlett Hayes.
The pain of that betrayal was a constant, suffocating darkness, a deep pit I couldn' t climb out of, trapped by unseen enemies and their whispers of my failure.
But watching him on that screen, basking in my stolen glory, a cold, sharp rage began to burn through the despair.
In that cheap motel, I swore a vow: I would get justice, I would take back what was mine, and he would not build his empire on my ruins.
My chance came weeks later: a vulnerability in his IPO network led me to a familiar digital signature-a back door I'd built into 'Prometheus,' a failsafe only I knew. He was arrogant, so certain he' d erased me he never looked for the ghost I' d left behind.
He was on the verge of becoming a billionaire. And I had the key to his kingdom.
A slow smile spread across my face. The game wasn't over. It had just begun. I wasn't going to be a victim. I was the storm he never saw coming. I would let him climb to the peak of his triumph. And then, I would burn it all to the ground. Lost Time, Found Love: Ava’s Return
Rum Runner The first thing I felt was the slow, steady beep of a machine.
I opened my eyes to a sterile white ceiling, definitely not my bedroom.
A nurse rushed in, dropping her clipboard, whispering, "She' s awake!"
Then a doctor: "Mrs. Hayes? Ava? Can you tell me your name?"
"Ava Reed... Ava Hayes."
"And the year?"
"2023. It' s October."
Their pitying looks made my skin crawl. "Ava," the doctor said gently, "It' s not 2023."
He pointed to a digital screen: July 12, 2038.
Fifteen years. Gone. Just like that.
The car crash that felt like yesterday had apparently happened a decade and a half ago.
My Lily, my four-year-old daughter, would be nineteen.
My husband, Ethan…
I called him, desperate, finding his contact on a sleek, alien device.
A voice answered, but it wasn' t his. It was cold, hollow.
"Who is this?"
"Ethan? It' s me. It' s Ava."
Then, a harsh, bitter laugh. "My wife is dead. She died fifteen years ago. Don' t you dare use her name again."
He was about to hang up.
"The scar!" I screamed, "Under your left rib, from Miller' s Peak! And Lily… she called her bear 'Sir Reginald Fluffen-Bottom' !"
Silence on the line. Then a whisper: "How… how do you know that?"
Who was this stranger on the phone? What had happened to my life, my family?
I was Ava Reed, a woman robbed of fifteen years.
"Because I am your wife, you idiot. Oceanville General, Room 304. Ten minutes."
I hung up, a cold, hard knot forming in my stomach.
Ethan never showed. Instead, a slick lawyer offered me a hotel, a car, a credit card.
I took the car.
My daughter. Lily. Two Years, A Cosmic Lie
Tamarah Lupton I poured every spare dollar from my part-time jobs and scholarships into a scuffed-up piggy bank, dreaming of a future with Chloe and a promise ring that would seal our love. But then I heard her laugh-a laugh that wasn't for me.
Just an hour after I ended things, saying "We're over," my best friend, Liam, walked up, clueless as ever, showing off an expensive watch Chloe had helped him pick out, a watch that screamed what a joke my cheap promise ring was.
I ducked into a stairwell, my heart pounding, and pulled out my phone. In our shared photo album, I found a selfie of Chloe and her friends at a fancy rooftop bar. Zooming in, I saw it-my piggy bank, next to a bottle of champagne, being used as an ashtray. The memory hit me: overhearing Chloe brag to her friends about using me as "A tool, a pawn to make Liam finally notice me," all while calling me "a little charity case" and "so boring."
My world shattered. Two years, all a lie, a game where I was just a prop in her drama with Liam. The cheap daisies I held for her surprise visit were crushed in my hand, my stomach churning with nausea.
I spent the night walking, my mind a blank, howling void. The pain solidified into a cold, hard resolve: I had to disappear.
Five years of isolation. No friends. No family. No Chloe. To me, it sounded less like a punishment and more like a rescue. I went to see Professor Davies and signed up for the Ares Project. His Robot Love, Her Broken Heart
Shi Yue For five years, New York society envied me, Ava Riley, the perfectly devoted wife to tech titan Liam Carter.
Though legally blind, I felt his love in every touch, every whispered word, convinced I was the luckiest woman alive.
But one night, a searing pain shot through my head, a shocking kaleidoscope of color exploded behind my eyelids, and then-I could see.
My vision, blurry but real, focused on the bed.
It wasn't Liam on top of me.
It was a faceless, flawless robot, moving with the practiced intimacy I believed belonged to my husband.
Then I saw Liam across the room, wrapped around a perfect, lifelike doll-his adopted sister, Sophia.
Every intimate moment of our five-year marriage, every cherished touch, had been a vile, mechanical lie.
The truth crashed down: I was just a blind prop in his twisted obsession, a placeholder for the woman he truly desired.
When I confronted this horrifying reality, Sophia pushed me down the stairs, and I lost our baby.
But Liam' s concern wasn't for me.
He protected Sophia, dismissing my pain, our child, and even me, as collateral damage, painting me as an "emotionally unstable liar" to cover their tracks.
How could the man I loved betray me so utterly?
How could my own sacrifice have led to such a depraved deception?
My heart didn't just break; it became a cold, hard stone of disbelief and fury.
Lying in that hospital bed, rage burning through my soul, I ripped up Liam' s seven-figure "hush money" check, looked Sophia directly in her astonished eyes, and declared, "I' m divorcing him. And I' m not going quietly. I' m going to take everything." 
/1/116003/coverorgin.jpg?v=62ab00944d4850ddfbc71ce7cfd95c9d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/115165/coverorgin.jpg?v=6c8dd8921e9cb59ddd76d98cc645e7d0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/114175/coverorgin.jpg?v=c0a5f6d4d5bfe0d6cbb00c76e714832c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/104711/coverorgin.jpg?v=0722b321f531a8537f15acf77989817d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/96932/coverorgin.jpg?v=1324b912b66c1c0022dfa035151230e9&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/92062/coverorgin.jpg?v=6e9414b2463433b2c3e5b89a1e067f18&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/85715/coverorgin.jpg?v=7e450a8400ab6106e9fe1471ecfcf453&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/82930/coverorgin.jpg?v=f2bc1889b3d43dd0c1c2b1be74b5032b&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/82810/coverorgin.jpg?v=b9c51187392c9fde951a112455c33146&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/82309/coverorgin.jpg?v=56c77ebb01b95a7e0e81714c4a8a6e94&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/81951/coverorgin.jpg?v=c855da915b6e766a08c058d21f4f0cbe&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/81676/coverorgin.jpg?v=f07508c3bbc29400ae03ca71d7c39ae0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/81132/coverorgin.jpg?v=bb6dc549e8f9b4283273d7fa769d501c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/18733/coverorgin.jpg?v=df44fdd8218be35345af1f2ee8cd31dc&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/82561/coverorgin.jpg?v=425128a88b9197f3dec17537b027bb70&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/80254/coverorgin.jpg?v=ece51d91a5297461f54457e745ecfab1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/85105/coverorgin.jpg?v=ef5b89abfc64e6a1d93c4d7f7af202a6&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/35202/coverorgin.jpg?v=39e16d1b1a525d4d43f10fb7a45cca3f&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/85419/coverorgin.jpg?v=ff1ef696246775a43048fc2b0363c94a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/43182/coverorgin.jpg?v=6bc669b08ecfda0016d6bb5b488d9020&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/85733/coverorgin.jpg?v=324fb498ff6fc1de69c73af983c3e1dc&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/50536/coverorgin.jpg?v=cfbbfb8860c6a228c8d0557adcdfeaf2&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/86830/coverorgin.jpg?v=30ff0ec84faeccbaa93c39b7dfb6459c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/86205/coverorgin.jpg?v=2baa3a09777f7e5a660294e801e4adbf&imageMogr2/format/webp)