Hu Minxue
18 Published Stories
Hu Minxue's Books and Stories
Betrayed, I Married the Feared Cripple
Mafia Three days after my fiancé publicly dumped me for my stepsister, the Supreme Don issued a command that silenced the entire estate.
I wasn't being cast aside. I was being sold to Damien Russo.
The "Broken Don." A crippled, scarred monster rumored to have murdered his last two wives.
My adoptive mother, Elena, didn't cry for me. She smirked.
To her, I was finally being disposed of.
She was so confident I was walking to my death that she decided to loot my corpse before I even left.
She forged documents to steal my entire inheritance—my biological mother’s trust fund—to pay for my stepsister’s lavish wedding to my ex.
"She won't need money where she's going," my stepsister laughed, wearing a dress bought with my stolen funds.
They thought they were sending a lamb to the slaughter.
They thought I was too weak, too stupid, and too afraid of the monster to fight back.
But they made a fatal mistake.
With my aunt’s help, I didn't just find the proof of their embezzlement; I found a weapon.
I’m not running from the monster. I’m going to marry him.
And when I hand him the evidence that the Herrera family stole from his bride, he won't be my executioner.
He will be my vengeance. Runaway Nurse: The Mafia King's Remorse
Mafia For seven years, I served as the eyes for Dante Vitiello, the blind Capo of New York.
I pulled him back from the edge of madness, tending to his wounds and warming his bed when everyone else had given up on him.
But the moment his vision returned, the years of devotion turned to ash.
In a single phone call, he decided to marry Sofia Moretti for territory, dismissing me as just "the maid's daughter" and a "comfort" he intended to keep as a mistress.
He forced me to watch him court her.
At a gala, when a chaotic accident caused a tower of champagne glasses to shatter, Dante threw his body over Sofia to protect her.
He left me standing there, bleeding from the glass shards, while he carried her away like she was porcelain.
He didn't even look back at the woman who had saved his life.
I realized then that I had worshipped a broken god.
I had given him my dignity, only for him to treat me like a disposable bandage now that he was whole.
He arrogantly believed I would stay in the penthouse, grateful for his scraps.
So, while he was out celebrating his engagement, I met with his mother.
I signed the severance agreement for fifty million dollars.
I packed my bags, wiped my phone, and boarded a one-way flight to Australia.
By the time Dante came home to an empty bed, realized his mistake, and began tearing the city apart to find me, I was already a ghost. Traded To The Bratva: My Husband's Betrayal
Mafia Ninety-nine days. That was exactly how long it had been since my husband, Dante, traded my life to a Russian cartel just to save his mistress from a panic attack.
I walked onto the grounds of the Vitiello estate only to find him caressing her six-month-pregnant belly at my own funeral. He didn't look like a grieving widower; he looked like a man who had finally buried his mistake.
When I revealed I was alive, Dante didn't fall to his knees in relief. Instead, he protected Lucia. He believed her lies that I was insane, that I was a threat to his "heir."
To prove his loyalty to her, he stood by while my father whipped me in the family chapel until my back was in shreds. Then, he dragged me to the roof and threw me into a freezing pool, watching me drown simply because Lucia claimed I pushed her.
He didn't know Lucia was faking the pregnancy. He didn't know she was the one selling secrets to the Bratva. He broke his loyal wife to protect a traitor.
Now, six months later, he stands in the rain holding the Vitiello diamond necklace, begging me to come home. He thinks he can buy forgiveness.
But he doesn't see the man standing in the shadows behind me—the enforcer who took a bullet for me when Dante was busy breaking my bones.
I looked at the diamonds, then at my husband.
"I don't want a King," I whispered. "I chose the soldier." Discarded Girlfriend, Claimed By His Cousin
Modern For years, I was the perfect, understanding girlfriend. I watched my boyfriend, Brendan, and his "family friend," Kasey, flaunt their affair, but my career as an event planner was tied to his powerful family, so I endured the humiliation in silence.
That all changed on the way to a charity gala I had meticulously planned. I saw a fresh hickey on Kasey's neck, a silent, screaming testament to their latest betrayal, right in front of my face.
I finally broke up with him. The fallout was immediate and brutal. My own brothers hunted me down, calling me a "gold-digging whore" before dragging me back to our family. They threw a settlement agreement at me, demanding I apologize to Brendan for the "good of the family."
When I refused, they disowned me. My career was systematically destroyed, leaving me with nothing.
I was just a pawn they had used and discarded. The weight of it all became too much, and I collapsed, alone in my new, empty apartment.
As my vision faded, I heard a key turn in the lock. It was Brendan's cousin, Graham-the quiet, powerful lawyer I'd shared a secret, passionate kiss with in the car that very same day. Papa! That Bad Man Hit My Mom!
Modern After a seven-year relationship, my fiancé Bennett abandoned me on our marriage license day for a "marriage of convenience" with another woman. Heartbroken, I married the reclusive billionaire Damon Levy and disappeared.
Three years later, I returned, pregnant with our second child. The first person I saw was Bennett, now working as a driver, holding a sign for "Mrs. Levy."
He and his new wife didn't recognize me. They publicly humiliated me, mocking my simple dress and calling the priceless diamond bracelet from my husband a cheap fake.
At a gala, their cruelty escalated. They tripped me, stomped on my hand, and shattered my bracelet. Bennett slapped me across the face, hissing at me to stop lying.
Surrounded by their laughter, with my lip bleeding, I saw the man I once loved for the hollow, cruel person he truly was.
But then, the room went silent. My husband, Damon, walked in, holding our son. And my little boy pointed a finger straight at Bennett and shouted, "Papa! That bad man hit Mommy!" My Faked Death, His Endless Torment
Modern I was dying from a mysterious illness, but my family, including my fiancé King, dismissed me as a drama queen. At my adopted sister Isabel' s promotion party, my body finally gave out and I collapsed, coughing up blood.
Instead of helping, King accused me of ruining Isabel's big night. He tore up my terminal diagnosis report right in front of me, sneering that I'd do anything for attention.
Completely broken, I annulled our engagement and fled to a rundown motel to die alone. But Isabel found me. With a triumphant smile, she confessed everything-she had been slowly poisoning me for years, a plot to steal my health, my family's love, and King himself.
She had no idea her entire monstrous confession was being recorded by a device left in the room.
I sent that audio file to everyone and, with the help of a kind stranger, faked my own death. Years later, I had a new life, a new name, and a quiet peace I never thought possible. Then one day, a broken, haunted man walked into my seaside café, clutching a faded photo of me.
It was King. Till Death Do Us Part, Indeed
Modern My husband, Augustine, was a serial cheater, and I was a terminally ill artist.
His mistress didn't just steal my marriage; she publicly flaunted it, taunting me at every turn.
The final blow came when they desecrated the sculpture I made for my dead mother, laughing as they defiled my most sacred memory.
He used my childhood trauma to break me, freezing my assets, destroying my career, and trapping me in our home like a prisoner.
He had promised to be my safe harbor, but instead, he became the monster who weaponized my deepest pain.
But my cancer gave me a deadline and a dark purpose.
I lured him back, manipulating him into destroying his mistress and bankrupting himself for a forgiveness I would never grant.
As he knelt before me, a broken man offering his shattered empire, I gave him my final command.
"Now," I whispered, my voice cold as the grave, "it's time to pay with your life." Dying On My Own Terms
Romance I loved Dozier McCarthy with a madness that terrified him. So when his new girlfriend accused me of pushing her down the stairs, he didn't defend me.
Instead, he signed the papers to lock me away in Serenity Heights.
He called it "rehabilitation" for my obsession. I called it three years of hell.
While he lived his perfect life, I was strapped to a bed, force-fed heavy antipsychotics that they called "vitamins."
Those pills didn't just kill my love for him. They slowly destroyed my kidneys.
When he finally came to collect me, he smiled, thinking my silence meant I was "cured."
He didn't know he was looking at a walking corpse.
Now that the doctors have given me a terminal diagnosis, Dozier is on his knees, offering millions to fix what he broke.
"We'll find a donor," he begged, tears streaming down his face. "I'll save you."
I just pulled my hand away and adjusted my apron.
"It's too late, Dozier. I have a bagel cart to run."
He wanted to control my life. Now, he can only watch me die on my own terms. From Love to Hatred: His Downfall
Billionaires After five years of marriage and giving birth to his son, I was finally being welcomed into the powerful Downs family. The rule was simple: bear a son, and you're in the family trust. I had done my part.
But at the lawyer's office, I discovered my entire life was a lie. My husband, Hudson, already had a wife listed on the trust: Hailey Gomez, his high school sweetheart who supposedly died a decade ago.
I wasn't his wife. I was a substitute, a placeholder to produce an heir. Soon, the "dead" Hailey was living in my house, sleeping in my bed. When she deliberately shattered my grandmother's ashes, Hudson didn't blame her. He locked me in the basement to "teach me a lesson."
The ultimate betrayal came when he used our sick son, August, as a pawn. To force me to reveal Hailey's location after she staged her own kidnapping, he ripped the breathing tube from our son's nebulizer.
He left our child to die while he ran to her side.
After August died in my arms, the love I had for Hudson turned to pure, cold hatred. He beat me at our son's grave, thinking he could break me completely.
But he'd forgotten about the power of attorney I'd slipped into a stack of architectural deeds. He signed it without a second glance, dismissing my work as unimportant.
That arrogance would be his downfall. The Prank That Broke Her
Modern I was on my way to tell my boyfriend, Cooper, that I was pregnant. He was my savior, the man who rescued me after a brutal assault left me an orphan.
But when I arrived at his penthouse, I overheard him talking to his sister, Kenya. My entire life was a lie. The assault wasn't random; it was a "prank" they had orchestrated so he could play the hero.
It only got worse. Kenya tortured and killed my dog for "surgical practice," and Cooper defended her. They leaked a private video of me, destroying my reputation at school. When I tried to escape, Kenya sent thugs after me, and the attack caused me to miscarry our child.
As I lay bleeding in the hospital, Cooper blamed me for losing the baby. He then told me the miscarriage had left me permanently infertile.
His final demand was the cruelest. He said I had to "compensate" his sister for all the trouble I'd caused by donating one of my kidneys to her.
But they had made one fatal mistake. They thought I was a powerless orphan.
They didn't know I had just inherited a billion-dollar empire from a secret aunt. And I was about to use every penny to burn their world to the ground. His Last Betrayal, Her New Beginning
Romance The phone buzzed, waking me to the day my life shattered before. My fiancé, Mark, was on the line, urgently asking for five million dollars for an "investment" -the same five million he' d embezzled to buy a lavish diamond necklace for his mistress, Brittany.
This time, I was ready. I refused, reported him anonymously, and watched him get arrested. But Mark and Brittany weren' t done playing victims, painting me as the heartless villain to force my hand, ignoring the debt I' d paid from my past life, covering for his crimes.
At a party, Brittany publicly shamed me, clinging to him while he watched with the adoration I' d craved for years. He even slapped me, ending our engagement with venom. But I had a secret weapon.
He didn' t know I had the ultimate proof. A recording. A video of him confessing his scheme, detailing how he planned to use my savings to fund his affair. The reveal silenced the room, shattering their facade, and turning the public tide against them.
I walked away from the wreckage, severing all ties. But when Mark landed in jail again, his parents, good people caught in his mess, begged for my help. My heart ached for them, but not for him. I bailed him out, not out of love, but and revealed Brittany's continued manipulation. Only then did the truth finally dawn on him – but it was too late. He'd ruined our lives before, and this time, there was no turning back. I wanted a fresh start. The Neglected Daughter's Last Stand
Fantasy The voicemail clicked, just like the ninety-eighth one had. My family was busy celebrating my adopted sister Molly' s "Sweet 19" birthday, completely forgetting my own diagnosis: Acute Myeloid Leukemia, terminal, a week at most. When I tried to quietly arrange my death benefits at Social Security, they stormed in, furious.
My father bellowed about me embarrassing them on Molly's birthday, my mother sneered at my "cheap" hospital report, accusing me of faking illness for attention. Then Molly, ever the actress, cried crocodile tears, begging me to stop lying. As blood streamed from my nose onto the floor, I declared to the horrified clerk: "I have no family."
Back in the house that was never a home, Molly sweet-talked me into baking her a peanut butter pie for her party – fully aware of her severe peanut allergy that I' d been blamed for years ago. Exposed, she shrieked, faking a fall, and my father's fist found my face, sending me sprawling, blood mixing with old tears. He roared for me to get out, hurling a beer bottle that grazed my temple as I fled.
Penniless and bleeding, I collapsed in a grimy motel room, waiting to die alone. Then Molly arrived, dropping her innocent act to gloat. Her chilling confession laid bare years of malicious manipulation – the faked allergy, the bullying, the constant torment designed to make them choose her over me.
"You'll die alone," she sneered, kicking me while I was down, "and I'll have everything." She didn't see my old laptop recording her confession, or the email I sent to my family with the subject line: "The Truth." The Girl Who Died Twice: A Reckoning
Fantasy The scream died in my throat.
The phantom pain of my brutal past life, the one where I died in a desolate commune, still clung to me.
I shot up in my old teenage room, sunlight streaming in.
I was Sarah again, but with the scars of a lifetime of horror etched into my soul.
My adopted siblings, Ethan and Chloe, the architects of that horror, were downstairs.
My kind, oblivious parents were completely unaware of their true nature.
Then, Ethan's whiny voice cut through the morning, demanding a new gaming PC.
Chloe, ever the manipulator, chimed in, suggesting a "little run away" plan.
Just like they did before.
My blood ran cold.
In my first life, I was a naive fool, desperate for their approval.
I went along with it, leading me straight into an unimaginable hell while Ethan found his abusive "benefactor."
I remembered the endless suffering, the betrayal that sealed my fate.
How could they be so casually cruel, so destructive?
This time, the fear and confusion were gone.
They had been replaced by a cold, burning rage.
They thought they could play their manipulative games again.
But they were wrong.
This time, I wasn't running away.
This time, things would be different.
This time, I was ready. Claire's Cruel Cure
Modern Ethan, a cold New York executive, thought his ailing childhood sweetheart, Claire, was his only priority.
He'd banished his pregnant wife, Sarah, to a remote swamp shack, believing she'd failed Claire.
But Sarah's banishment was her brutal murder, secretly orchestrated by Claire for her unique blood.
Five years later, Claire's mysterious illness returned, sending Ethan, still oblivious, back to the shack for Sarah's power.
Instead, he found Leo, a five-year-old boy, Sarah's spitting image.
Blinded by obsession, Ethan scoffed at any mention of paternity, dismissing Leo as a "bastard."
As Claire feigned agonizing pain, he coldly ordered doctors to drain Leo's blood, convinced it held the cure.
My ghostly form hovered, screaming, my hands uselessly passing through my dying son.
How could he not see this was his own child?
How could he sacrifice our flesh and blood for the very woman who murdered me?
His oblivious cruelty was a chilling, bottomless abyss.
But as Leo lay lifeless, his blood mingled with Ethan' s own from a cut.
Just then, a horrifying secret from my shallow grave began to emerge.
The brutal truth of my violent death, and Leo' s true father, would shatter Ethan's world.
This devastating revelation would trigger a reckoning he could never escape. From Fallen Star to Power Couple
Romance My life was perfect, the American dream within reach.
I was Ash Carter, engaged to Ethan Miller, our star quarterback, future NFL legend.
We had it all mapped out: the big house, the easy life, the picture-perfect wedding.
Then, in a brutal flash, it all imploded.
An ACL tear, career-ending complications.
Ethan, my golden boy, was broken. His father disgraced.
My mother, Karen, wasted no time.
"You have to break it off, Ashley," she commanded, her voice cutting, practical.
He was a "liability," a "nobody."
The dreams of wealth and connections she envisioned for me vanished with his ruined knee.
I felt sick, my stomach churning at the thought of the conversation to come.
I knew she was right, didn't I? For my future. For her sanity.
My thumb hovered over Ethan's name, ready to end it.
Then, my phone buzzed wildly, not a call, but bright, blocky letters flashing across my vision like a game interface.
`GAME FEED: CRITICAL CHOICE!`
`ABANDONING ETHAN MILLER NOW = 'TRAGIC SPINSTER' BAD ENDING. DETAILS: Social ruin, crushing debt, lonely cat lady. Forty cats. Minimum.`
My blood ran cold. Was this real?
`ETHAN MILLER IS PROPHESIED TO ACHIEVE UNEXPECTED GREATNESS. STAY THE COURSE FOR 'POWER COUPLE' GOOD ENDING. DETAILS: Influence, respect, true partnership. Legendary status.`
My life was a game? The words "forty cats" burned behind my eyes.
Looking at Ethan, broken on the couch, the breakup words died.
Fear, stark and overwhelming, took hold.
The path was terrifyingly clear.
And I had to play. You might like
Rejected by the Son, I Chose the Don
Rabbit On my wedding day, my father sold me to the Chicago Outfit to pay his debts. I was supposed to marry Alex Moreno, the heir to the city's most powerful crime family. But he couldn't even be bothered to show up.
As I stood alone at the altar, humiliated, my best friend delivered the final blow. Alex hadn't just stood me up; he had run off to California with his mistress.
The whispers in the cathedral turned me into a joke. I was damaged goods, the rejected bride. His family knew the whole time and let me take the public fall, offering me his cousins as pathetic replacements-a brute who hated me or a coward who couldn't protect me.
The humiliation burned away my fear, leaving only cold rage. My life was already over, so I decided to set the whole game on fire myself. The marriage pact only said a Carlson had to marry a Moreno; it never said which one.
With nothing left to lose, I looked past the pathetic boys they offered.
I chose the one man they never expected.
I chose his father, the Don himself.
My Husband's Brother Owns My Secret
Rabbit My marriage to Joshua Caldwell was a prison sentence. I was a Hartman trophy, sold to the powerful family who had destroyed mine.
Then I discovered he was cheating. His mistress was pregnant with the child he denied me, and he was stealing my secret song lyrics to build her career. When I confronted him, he called me a spineless liability and threatened to destroy what was left of my family.
To make matters worse, a one-night stand with a stranger turned out to be with my husband's brother, Anthony Caldwell-the Don of the city. He knew all of Joshua's secrets and used them to trap me in a twisted game, seeing me as nothing more than an asset.
They both thought I was a broken doll they could control.
I wrote a song for his mistress, a beautiful execution with a single, impossible note I knew would destroy her voice.
She sang it, and now her career is over.
Now the Don has summoned me to Chicago, not knowing the woman he thinks is his asset is the one who just burned his brother's world to the ground. Under Mafia Protection
chavontheauthor When Jimena, a young single mother with a dark past and a violent ex she's desperate to forget, crosses paths with Alessio Fanucci, a dangerous mafia heir, her world is turned upside down.
All she wanted was to get by working as a maid at the Fanucci mansion and to keep her distance from the three infamous Fanucci brothers as much as possible.
Things take a turn when the oldest brother and heir, Alessio, breaks off his arranged engagement with his ex and urgently needs a new one. Alessio, cold, ruthless, dominant, and not someone anyone talks back to, sees the quiet Jimena as nothing more than his pawn. Meanwhile, she sees Alessio as nothing more than another monster she needs to escape. As they spend more time together, the lines between fake and reality begin to blur, and they discover they have more in common than they initially thought.
Tensions rise when Jimena's ex returns, threatening her new comfortable life and the secrets she’s been withholding. He is out for revenge and is determined to go to any length for it, even if that means forming an alliance with the Fanuccis' enemy, who happens to be the family of Alessio’s ex.
With a war, untold truths, and feelings at stake, will Jimena’s newly formed bonds keep standing, or will everything around her crumble?
The Enforcer's Jilted Princess
Bone Possolo Tomorrow was my wedding day to Jason Brennan, the heir to a powerful Mafia family.
My family, the Falcones, had even taken in an orphaned girl, Elena, treating her like my own sister.
But in my nightmare of a past life, I choked on my own blood, poisoned by the arsenic Elena slipped into my food every day.
As I lay agonizingly close to death, Jason stood over me with a cold laugh, holding Elena in his arms.
"We just needed the Falcone wealth, Bella. And the docks."
Then came the gunfire. I was forced to watch them slaughter my father and my brother, tearing my family out by the roots.
After my death, Elena even spread vicious rumors that I was a barren spinster, twisting their foul betrayal into a tragic tale of noble sacrifice to completely destroy my legacy.
The metallic tang of my own blood was so real I could still taste the ash.
I didn't understand why the girl my family sheltered for eight years would repay our charity with such venom.
And I understood even less how the man who swore to love me could orchestrate my brutal murder without a shred of hesitation.
Bolting upright in bed, drenched in cold sweat, I realized I had returned to the night before my wedding.
This time, I wouldn't just cancel the engagement. I would hand their treason directly to the Mafia's most terrifying Enforcer, and watch them burn. The Ugly Substitute Bride of the Mafia King
Finn Mercer My adoptive family, the Castillos, treated their biological children like royalty, but used me as a disposable pawn.
To secure a mafia alliance, they forced me to take my beautiful sister's place and marry Don Damien Moretti, a man rumored to be a ruthless, bloodthirsty monster.
They thought they were sending me to my execution. At our engagement banquet, my mother and sister deliberately gifted me a cheap, counterfeit gown to humiliate me in front of New York's elite.
When I publicly exposed their lie, my father demanded I apologize. My mother even raised her hand to slap me in front of everyone.
"You are a vicious curse! You ruin everything!"
They eagerly waited for the Don to execute me on the spot for embarrassing them.
I had spent years secretly saving their company from bankruptcy and supplying the underground experimental drugs that kept my brother's mafia career alive.
Yet, they threw me to the wolves without a second thought, disgusted by my very existence.
But they didn't know that just an hour before the banquet, I had saved a bleeding, masked stranger in a dark alley-who turned out to be Damien Moretti himself. Reborn Heiress: Claimed By The Dark Don
Hen Bu I spent three years hating Damien Castillo, the ruthless mafia Don who kidnapped me from my engagement party and ruined my reputation.
But in the end, it was my perfect fiancé, Julian, and my sweet half-sister, Sophia, who slipped the deadly poison into my wine.
As the venom burned through my veins in that freezing cellar, I watched Julian smile. He and Sophia had orchestrated my brutal death. She had been sleeping in his bed all along, intentionally miscarrying his bastard child just to frame me as 'impure' and strip me of my family's protection. My own father used me as a political pawn, letting them throw me away like garbage.
And Damien? The monster I had fought and despised for years marched straight into a suicide ambush for me. He was riddled with bullets, turning his body into a human shield just to buy me a few more seconds of life.
"Touch her and you die."
I died in that blood-soaked basement, clutching his lifeless body, suffocating on my own blind trust. Why did I ever believe the golden boy who betrayed me? Why did I fight the only man who truly loved me?
Opening my eyes again, the stench of copper and mold was gone, replaced by the scent of Cuban cigars and black silk.
I was back in 1928, on the exact night Damien stormed my engagement party and locked me in his penthouse.
This time, when the ruthless Don approached me, I didn't scream or run back to my killers. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him. Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles
Dorine Koestler I watched my husband sign the papers that would end our marriage while he was busy texting the woman he actually loved.
He didn't even glance at the header. He just scribbled the sharp, jagged signature that had signed death warrants for half of New York, tossed the file onto the passenger seat, and tapped his screen again.
"Done," he said, his voice devoid of emotion.
That was Dante Moretti. The Underboss. A man who could smell a lie from a mile away but couldn't see that his wife had just handed him an annulment decree disguised beneath a stack of mundane logistics reports.
For three years, I scrubbed his blood out of his shirts. I saved his family's alliance when his ex, Sofia, ran off with a civilian.
In return, he treated me like furniture.
He left me in the rain to save Sofia from a broken nail. He left me alone on my birthday to drink champagne on a yacht with her. He even handed me a glass of whiskey—her favorite drink—forgetting that I despised the taste.
I was merely a placeholder. A ghost in my own home.
So, I stopped waiting. I burned our wedding portrait in the fireplace, left my platinum ring in the ashes, and boarded a one-way flight to San Francisco.
I thought I was finally free. I thought I had escaped the cage.
But I underestimated Dante.
When he finally opened that file weeks later and realized he had signed away his wife without looking, the Reaper didn't accept defeat.
He burned down the world to find me, obsessed with reclaiming the woman he had already thrown away. Betrayed, I Married the Feared Cripple
Hu Minxue Three days after my fiancé publicly dumped me for my stepsister, the Supreme Don issued a command that silenced the entire estate.
I wasn't being cast aside. I was being sold to Damien Russo.
The "Broken Don." A crippled, scarred monster rumored to have murdered his last two wives.
My adoptive mother, Elena, didn't cry for me. She smirked.
To her, I was finally being disposed of.
She was so confident I was walking to my death that she decided to loot my corpse before I even left.
She forged documents to steal my entire inheritance—my biological mother’s trust fund—to pay for my stepsister’s lavish wedding to my ex.
"She won't need money where she's going," my stepsister laughed, wearing a dress bought with my stolen funds.
They thought they were sending a lamb to the slaughter.
They thought I was too weak, too stupid, and too afraid of the monster to fight back.
But they made a fatal mistake.
With my aunt’s help, I didn't just find the proof of their embezzlement; I found a weapon.
I’m not running from the monster. I’m going to marry him.
And when I hand him the evidence that the Herrera family stole from his bride, he won't be my executioner.
He will be my vengeance. Mistaken Identity: Loving The Wrong Twin Sister
Tabbie Platt I replaced my twin sister in a marriage contract to the ruthless Mafia Don, Donovan Blackwood.
For three years, I was a ghost in his home, silently enduring his coldness while he flaunted his mistress, Chloe.
On the very last day of our contract, Chloe staged an accident.
Donovan didn't hesitate.
He forced me to drain my blood to save her life.
Then, to prove his loyalty to her, he drove me to the cliffs and pushed me into the freezing ocean.
He even locked me in a cellar infested with spiders—my deepest phobia—because she lied and said I threatened her.
He thought he was punishing the spoiled, arrogant Isabella.
He didn't know he was breaking Ava, the woman who had silently memorized his allergies and waited up for him in the dark every single night.
When I finally took my fifty million dollars and vanished, I left behind nothing but the divorce papers and a photo revealing the truth.
He tore the city apart, destroying my family to find me, only to realize he had tortured the wrong woman.
Now, he is standing on my porch in the pouring rain, staring in horror at the simple wooden ring on my finger given to me by another man.
He falls to his knees, begging for a chance to love the wife he tried to destroy.
I look at him, feeling absolutely nothing.
"It's too late, Donovan," I say, locking the door. "You killed her." 
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