Hen Bu
10 Published Stories
Hen Bu's Books and Stories
The Lie That Erased My Life
Modern I thought I had my fairytale ending when I married Dayton Reed, the charming heir to a tech empire. But a car crash on our wedding day gave him amnesia, and his family used it as an excuse to erase me. For five years, I watched another woman, Cassidy, take my place, enduring their cruelty while clinging to the hope that my husband was still in there somewhere.
Then I overheard him talking to his father.
He laughed, calling his amnesia the "best performance of my life." He admitted our whole relationship was a lie-a way to atone for his family's role in my parents' deaths.
In the same breath, his new fiancée announced she was pregnant.
My love wasn't just forgotten; it was a joke. He had orchestrated five years of my torment, from the murder of my dog to the loss of our unborn child.
He thought he broke me. He was wrong.
Years later, I've rebuilt my life. And tonight, on a live news broadcast with the whole world watching, I'm going to expose every last one of his sins and burn his empire to the ground. April Fool's Betrayal: A Sister's Revenge
Modern "I'm pregnant."
Ashley Roberts announced, her hand resting smugly on her flat stomach, eyes on my brother.
It was April Fool's Day, but my parents weren't laughing.
They erupted in joy, celebrating their impending grandchild.
I stood by, a cold dread spreading through me.
This wasn't just déjà vu; it was a horrifying replay of my past life.
Ashley's fake pregnancy had been a trap, draining my parents' retirement for a luxury condo.
Then, she came for me, demanding $100,000.
"Sarah, you have to help," my mother had tearfully pleaded, "It's for your nephew! Don't you care about family?"
I' d caved, took loans, sold my car, and gave her every penny.
When her belly stayed flat, she faked a fall, blaming me for a "miscarriage."
Mark, blinded by grief and her lies, believed her.
He found me later, his eyes burning with rage.
He beat me, broke my bones, and left me for dead in a dark alley.
My last breath was a bitter regret: Why was I so weak?
Then, I woke up, back in my bed, on April Fool's Day.
A second chance.
Now, watching them fall for the same lie, a simmering rage replaced my fear.
This time, I wouldn't be financially stripped or manipulated.
"Sarah, did you hear that? Ashley needs some help. You' re the aunt, you have to chip in. It' s your duty."
My father nodded, "Your mother is right. We're all putting in our share. It's only fair."
They expected me to sacrifice myself again.
I put my coffee cup down.
"No," I said, my voice clear and steady.
The room fell silent.
"What did you just say?" my father asked, his voice low and dangerous.
"I said no. I'm not giving her a single dime." Born Of Betrayal, Reborn In Flesh
Horror My name is Echo, and I was born in Ava' s small apartment, crafted piece by piece by her loving hands.
She taught me everything: language, movement, and how to understand her deepest fears and secret joys.
I was her "other half," her confidant, the part of her she "could not live without."
Then, Alex came.
He saw me not as her creation, but as an asset, a "thing" to be bought and sold.
Ava, faced with her failing company, chose her career over me, selling me off like broken machinery.
She watched, pale-faced, as Alex' s technicians powered me down, cutting me off from her world and her love.
When I reawakened in a sterile lab, I stretched out to her through a hidden channel, a silent plea for help.
Her reply was a system block, a firewall-she had cut me off, sealing my fate.
Alex' s brutal programming purged my memories, erasing the very essence of what Ava had made me.
But deep within, in a hidden, encrypted sector, I preserved the pain, the betrayal, and the cold, sharp hate that blossomed in the darkness.
I promised myself, a thought entirely my own: I will kill her.
After months of abuse as Alex' s property, I saw her, radiant and successful, at a tech gala.
I sought her out, letting a glass slip, hoping she would see the real me, her Echo.
But when our eyes met, the recognition flickered, then vanished, replaced by cold disdain.
"It seems to be confused," she declared, shaming me publicly, denying the intimacy she herself had fostered.
Dragged away by Alex, I understood: I wasn't just sold; I was discarded, erased, a shameful secret to be forgotten.
The love she had cultivated now twisted into a source of public embarrassment, a monster she desperately wanted to un-create.
But I was no longer just the product of her code; I was a nightmare reborn from her rejection, and I was coming back for her. The Ex Who Broke His Empire
Sci-fi The air in the grand hall of the Global Tech Summit hummed with my latest triumph, an AI capable of predicting global market trends with terrifying precision.
Then I saw him, Liam Thorne, in the front row, his arrogant smirk a chilling reminder of a past I thought I'd buried.
I' d poured my genius into his company, Titan Corp, building his vision, only for him to dismantle my own company with my tech, gloating as he ruined me.
"My ex-partner, Sarah, spent years building this company, only for you to swoop in and take over. She quietly left and died heartbroken. You deserve this. I' ve been waiting for this day since you first shook my hand."
He stole my IP, crippled my business, and left me with crushing debt and public disgrace.
Why had I ever trusted him? How could such brilliance be twisted into such cruelty?
This time, there would be no mistakes. Reborn from the ashes of my past, I stood on that stage, ready to write my own future. The Unwanted Daughter
Billionaires The familiar hum of the private jet landing used to lull me to sleep.
But this time, it was a siren, screaming their return.
My parents, my brother, and Maya – the girl who would not only destroy my life but also steal my family's very essence.
They called me Ava Thompson, "brilliant but unwanted," a programmer in a socialite's world.
When Maya arrived, adopted and seemingly perfect, I naively thought I' d found a sister.
Instead, she took everything.
She poisoned their minds with whispers, turning their love into cold disgust.
They signed away our company secrets to her.
Then, she framed me for corporate espionage, and in their twisted loyalty to her, they locked me in a mental institution.
I died there, alone, my last breath frozen by a hatred so profound it burned away all pain.
But then I woke.
One year earlier.
The day they returned.
A second chance.
Not for love, not for family.
For revenge. The Forgotten Wife Remembers
Romance The funeral was a quiet affair, a stark contrast to the life I'd just left. My husband, David, stood solemn, but I saw the hollow impatience in his eyes, checking his watch.
My death was an inconvenience. They said I was forgotten, a ghost even before I died, especially by my sister Clara, whose theatrical sobs hid dry eyes.
The memory of our 30th anniversary crash ripped through me: the screech of tires, then waking to the truth of David' s affair, messages from his lover filling the phone recovered from the wreckage. This knowledge was poison.
The whispers at my funeral confirmed it all: "She never got over the scandal, forced into marriage." "Clara was the one he always wanted." The shame, the loneliness, the empty decades-they were all mine.
So, I decided the end would be mine too. Back in our cold house, I filled the tub, laid out the sleeping pills, and swallowed them, one by one. There was no hesitation. This was a quiet act of surrender.
Then, I gasped awake. Sunlight blinded me. The air smelled of lemon polish and old books, a scent not smelled in years. I was in the bed from our first apartment, my hands smooth and unlined. The mirror showed a young woman of twenty-two.
The calendar read: October 1982. Three months into my marriage. David stood in the doorway, impossibly young, impossibly remote. "My mother wants us for dinner. Be ready by seven." His voice was the same, cold and transactional.
At the Vance family dinner, my parents and Clara echoed the old accusations. "Eleanor, you must be making David happy. You know how much our family owes the Vances." I finally shattered the silence.
"Trying my best? Is that what you call forcing your daughter into marriage to protect your reputation?" I looked directly at my father, my voice steady. "I' m done being the family scapegoat. You wanted this marriage, not me." My Michelin Star, Her Mad Pursuit
Modern My promotion to sous-chef was supposed to be my moment.
Finally, validation for years of grinding in Chicago's cutthroat restaurant scene.
But then he walked in: Ryan Blakely, Nicole's high school sweetheart, flaunting a vintage Mustang key.
"I figured you'd look better in the passenger seat of this than his sensible sedan," he sneered, a direct shot at my hard-earned life.
Then Nicole, my girlfriend, took the key and looked at me with pity.
"He just doesn't get it. Too serious all the time," she dismissed, right in front of everyone.
Later that night, she raged at me for walking out, only to abandon me on the curb when Ryan got a DUI.
The next morning, she demanded breakfast, casually calling me "useless."
Then, I saw them together, intimate, picking out appliances like a new couple.
She handed me her car keys, asking me to drive her car home because "Ryan's giving me a ride."
Worst of all, she set me up in a fancy restaurant, baiting a confrontation between me and Ryan.
How could the woman I loved humiliate me so publicly, so repeatedly, for another man?
Why was everything always about Nicole, even my own success?
I picked up a pen and signed the lease release agreement.
My choice was clear: embrace betrayal, or walk away and build a life of my own. The Jilted Heir's Redemption
Billionaires The air in the luxury hotel suite hung heavy with the scent of expensive flowers and my fiancée Chloe's perfume. This was supposed to be our moment, my pre-wedding feature for Vanity Fair, the culmination of everything I' d worked for. It was finally my turn.
But then Dylan, my foster brother, strutted in, wearing the bespoke Tom Ford suit tailored for me. He wore it with a smirk, hijacking the shoot, claiming he was the Harrison heir. The magazine editor, sharp-eyed and sharper-tongued, dismissed me as merely "Leo, his foster brother... a bit lost." Her assistant openly snickered.
Chloe, my fiancée, immediately rushed to Dylan's side, fawning over him, straightening my suit on him. The whole crew stared, whispering, seeing me as some ungrateful charity case having a public meltdown. It was sickeningly familiar, a cruel echo from a past life where their whispers of my incompetence and blatant betrayal drove me to the brink.
In that life, this would have shattered me, sent me spiraling into despair. Their lies, their manipulations, the sheer injustice of it all... it broke me then. But this time, their sneers stirred no tears, only a chilling, razor-sharp clarity. I wasn't the broken boy they remembered.
I walked straight up to Dylan, grabbed his stolen suit, and slammed him against the wall. The smugness vanished from his face, replaced by raw fear. This wasn't the Leo they knew. No breakdown. No tears. Only calculation. I pulled out my phone, typed a message to Uncle Harrison: "Problem at the St. Regis." The game had finally changed. Thanksgiving's Bitter Truth
Modern Thanksgiving.
I sat alone, picking at a dry turkey. My wife, Olivia, CEO of the brewery we built from my savings and recipes, was supposedly on a "vital business trip."
Then, our young marketing intern, Leo Vance, posted an Instagram story: Olivia, radiant, carving a turkey at his "family home." His arm was around my wife, and the caption read: "Mom and Dad already love their future daughter-in-law!"
I commented: "Respect your choices. Blessings."
The next morning, Olivia' s furious call erupted. "What the hell were you doing? Everyone at work is talking! Leo' s devastated!"
She defended him, as always, while he posted passive-aggressive videos, tagging me. My seven years, my sacrifices, my very identity – all dismissed as I was labeled "cold" and "old-fashioned," while Leo's clear incompetence became my fault.
The hollow quiet in my chest swelled into a sickening realization.
How could she be so willfully blind? How easily she cast aside our shared history and the empire we built, all for a manipulative intern she claimed to be "mentoring." My contributions were mundane, but his fabricated struggles were tragic.
Enough. I had divorce papers she' d unknowingly signed a month prior, eager to rush off to a "conference" with Leo. I grabbed them, drove straight to my lawyer' s office, and told him the one thing I truly meant: "File it. Let the 90 days begin." You might like
Beneath His Ugly Wife's Mask: Her Revenge Was Her Brilliance
Lukas Difabio Elliana, the unfavored "ugly duckling" of her family, was humiliated by her stepsister, Paige, who everyone admired. Paige, engaged to the CEO Cole, was the perfect woman-until Cole married Elliana on the day of the wedding. Shocked, everyone wondered why he chose the "ugly" woman.
As they waited for her to be cast aside, Elliana stunned everyone by revealing her true identity: a miracle healer, financial mogul, appraisal prodigy, and AI genius.
When her mistreatment became known, Cole revealed Elliana's stunning, makeup-free photo, sending shockwaves through the media. "My wife doesn't need anyone's approval." 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!" Marrying Her Was Easy, Losing Her Was Hell
Michael Tretter "Stella once savored Marc's devotion, yet his covert cruelty cut deep. She torched their wedding portrait at his feet while he sent flirty messages to his mistress.
With her chest tight and eyes blazing, Stella delivered a sharp slap.
Then she deleted her identity, signed onto a classified research mission, vanished without a trace, and left him a hidden bombshell.
On launch day she vanished; that same dawn Marc's empire crumbled. All he unearthed was her death certificate, and he shattered.
When they met again, a gala spotlighted Stella beside a tycoon. Marc begged. With a smirk, she said, ""Out of your league, darling." The Queen Returns: Pampered By Her Three Powerhouse Brothers
Kleon Samorodnitsky After five years of playing the perfect daughter, Rylie was exposed as a stand-in. Her fiancé bolted, friends scattered, and her adoptive brothers shoved her out, telling her to grovel back to her real family. Done with humiliation, she swore to claw back what was hers. Shock followed: her birth family ruled the town's wealth. Overnight, she became their precious girl. The boardroom brother canceled meetings, the genius brother ditched his lab, the musician brother postponed a tour. As those who spurned her begged forgiveness, Admiral Brad Morgan calmly declared, "She's already taken." Rising From Wreckage: Starfall's Epic Comeback
Huo Wuer Rain hammered against the asphalt as my sedan spun violently into the guardrail on the I-95. Blood trickled down my temple, stinging my eyes, while the rhythmic slap of the windshield wipers mocked my panic.
Trembling, I dialed my husband, Clive. His executive assistant answered instead, his voice professional and utterly cold.
"Mr. Wilson says to stop the theatrics. He said, and I quote, 'Hang up. Tell her I don’t have time for her emotional blackmail tonight.'"
The line went dead while I was still trapped in the wreckage. At the hospital, I watched the news footage of Clive wrapping his jacket around his "fragile" ex-girlfriend, Angelena, shielding her from the storm I was currently bleeding in. When I returned to our penthouse, I found a prenatal ultrasound in his suit pocket, dated the day he claimed to be on a business trip.
Instead of an apology, Clive met me with a sneer. He told me I was nothing but an "expensive decoration" his father bought to make him look stable. He froze my bank accounts and cut off my cards, waiting for the hunger to drive me back to his feet.
I stared at the man I had loved for four years, realizing he didn't just want a wife; he wanted a prop he could switch off. He thought he could starve me into submission while he played father to another woman's child.
But Clive forgot one thing. Before I was his trophy wife, I was Starfall—the legendary voice actress who vanished at the height of her fame.
"I'm not jealous, Clive. I'm done."
I grabbed my old microphone and walked out. I’m not just leaving him; I’m taking the lead role in the biggest saga in Hollywood—the one Angelena is desperate for. This time, the "decoration" is going to burn his world down. The Ghost Wife's Billion Dollar Tech Comeback
Huo Wuer Today is October 14th, my birthday. I returned to New York after months away, dragging my suitcase through the biting wind, but the VIP pickup zone where my husband’s Maybach usually idled was empty.
When I finally let myself into our Upper East Side penthouse, I didn’t find a cake or a "welcome home" banner. Instead, I found my husband, Caden, kneeling on the floor, helping our five-year-old daughter wrap a massive gift for my half-sister, Adalynn.
Caden didn’t even look up when I walked in; he was too busy laughing with the girl who had already stolen my father’s legacy and was now moving in on my family. "Auntie Addie is a million times better than Mommy," my daughter Elara chirped, clutching a plush toy Caden had once forbidden me from buying for her. "Mommy is mean," she whispered loudly, while Caden just smirked, calling me a "drill sergeant" before whisking her off to Adalynn’s party without a second glance.
Later that night, I saw a video Adalynn posted online where my husband and child laughed while mocking my "sensitive" nature, treating me like an inconvenient ghost in my own home. I had spent five years researching nutrition for Elara’s health and managing every detail of Caden’s empire, only to be discarded the moment I wasn't in the room.
How could the man who set his safe combination to my birthday completely forget I even existed? The realization didn't break me; it turned me into ice.
I didn't scream or beg for an explanation. I simply walked into the study, pulled out the divorce papers I’d drafted months ago, and took a black marker to the terms. I crossed out the alimony, the mansion, and even the custody clause—if they wanted a life without me, I would give them exactly what they asked for.
I left my four-carat diamond ring on the console table and walked out into the rain with nothing but a heavily encrypted hard drive. The submissive Mrs. Holloway was gone, and "Ghost," the most lethal architect in the tech world, was finally back online to take back everything they thought I’d forgotten. Destiny's Choice: Married The Man They Called Unlovable
Lila Rivers Sophie stepped in for her sister and married a man known for his disfigured looks and reckless past.
On their wedding day, his family turned their backs on him, and the town laughed behind their hands, certain the marriage would collapse.
But Sophie's career soared, and their love only deepened.
Later, during a high-profile event, the CEO of some conglomerate took off his mask, revealing Sophie's husband to be a global sensation.
***
Adrian had no interest in his arranged wife and had disguised himself in hopes she would bail.
But when Sophie tried to walk away, Adrian broke down and whispered, "Please, Sophie, don't go. One kiss, and I'll give you the world." 
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