Jing Jing
13 Published Stories
Jing Jing's Books and Stories
The Jilted Mafia Heiress Takes It All
Mafia I stood at the altar of St. Patrick's Cathedral, the daughter of New York’s most feared Don, ready to lower myself to marry a common soldier.
Then, a toddler in the front pew shrieked, "Daddy."
Liam didn't squeeze my hand for reassurance. He dropped it like it was a branding iron. In front of five hundred of the criminal elite, he ran down the aisle, scooping up his secret child and the mistress who had been blackmailing him.
He left me standing there, humiliated and alone.
Three months later, the "Jilted Princess" title still clung to me. Yet, Liam had the audacity to bring her to my father's birthday gala.
Sarah, wearing a dress far too tight and a smug smile, cornered me in the middle of the ballroom. She wanted to twist the knife.
"He hates you, you know," she screamed, loud enough for the Dons and Capos to hear. "He says sleeping with you was like sleeping with a statue. He chose real love! He chose a family!"
The room went deathly silent. Liam looked at me with pity, thinking he had won. He thought I was broken. He thought I was alone.
I took a slow sip of my champagne and set the glass down.
"I am not alone, Sarah," I said calmly.
I turned toward the shadows near the entrance.
"Ethan?" I called out.
The crowd parted instantly for the scarred, lethal man who stepped forward—The Ghost of Chicago, the most feared Underboss in Europe.
He walked over and wrapped a heavy, possessive arm around my waist.
"I’d like you to meet my husband," I told a horrified Liam. "And our daughter is waiting upstairs." The Mad Heiress's Dangerous Mercenary Lover
Modern I spent ten years locked in an asylum, heavily sedated, until my wealthy family dragged me back to their Hamptons estate. I pretended to be a brain-damaged lunatic to survive.
They didn't bring me back out of love. The Holden family was bleeding money, and they desperately needed me dead to inherit my massive trust fund shares.
My step-cousin Cristian was the mastermind behind the purge. First, he tried to quietly murder our billionaire grandfather with a mutated toxic orchid. Then, he ordered a guard to drop a deadly Gaboon viper into my bedroom in the dead of night. My father was a spineless coward, my mother was drugged into a stupor by the family doctor, and my brother was a crippled addict. They all stood by as I was thrown into the freezing mud, treated like garbage.
"She is a disgrace to this family! Get her back to the asylum immediately!"
My uncle roared, completely unaware that my brain was forged in a decade of clandestine warfare. But the strangest part wasn't my hidden combat skills. It was that my blood relatives could suddenly hear my cold, tactical inner thoughts.
Through my silent, telepathic broadcasts, I exposed Cristian's poison to my grandfather, woke my mother from her chemical haze, and turned my paralyzed brother into a ruthless, blood-soaked protector. Still playing the shivering, crazy girl, I smiled in the dark. The real war had just begun. I Left The Jester For The King
Mafia "Little Siren: I miss your hands on me."
That message lit up the screen of a burner phone I found in my fiancé's jacket pocket while he was in the shower.
Franco Moretti, the rising star of the Vitiello crime family, treated me like a fragile glass doll. He claimed he was "saving himself" for our wedding night out of respect.
But the phone told a different story.
I unlocked it and found three years of betrayal.
It wasn't just a fling. It was Camilla, a girl from high school I had befriended out of pity.
I watched their history unfold. He complained that I was cold. He called me a statue.
Then I saw the invoice.
He had bought two identical pink diamond engagement rings. One for me, and one for her.
Worse, he had stolen my grandmother' s heirloom jade bracelet-a piece of history meant for his bride-and given it to his mistress.
"I need her name to get the chair," he texted her. "You are my true Queen."
I didn't cry. I didn't scream. I realized I wasn't a person to him; I was a ladder.
Leaving him would be too easy. Leaving is what victims do.
I walked to my laptop and opened a new document. I wasn't just going to cancel the wedding. I was going to broadcast his ruin to the entire underworld, and our wedding would be my stage.
Then, I picked up the phone and dialed the one number my father forbade me to call.
"I accept," I told the deep voice on the other end.
"You understand what you are agreeing to, Gianna?" Enzo Falcone asked.
"I understand," I said, looking at the New York skyline.
"You want an alliance. I want a weapon." Fired My Fiance, Claimed My Empire
Modern I went undercover as a trainee in my own hotel, a secret pact with my fiancé, Greyson, the hotel's General Manager. We were supposed to be building an empire together. But our future ended the moment he chose another woman over me.
He let a manipulative socialite named Imogen terrorize our staff. She deliberately scalded my hand with hot coffee, and when I stood up to her, Greyson publicly humiliated me.
On a speakerphone call with the city's mayor, he demanded I apologize.
"Apologize to Ms. Short," his voice boomed for the entire staff to hear. "This kind of disrespect is unacceptable."
My fiancé, the man I loved, had just ordered me to kneel before the woman who assaulted me.
So I dropped my disguise.
I revealed my true identity as the heiress to the Kerr hotel empire and said, "Greyson Holden, you're fired. Get out of my hotel." I'm Not Blind Anymore!
Romance The screech of tires, then a blinding impact. I shoved my fiancée, Chloe, out of the way, taking the full force of the crash. I woke in darkness, my world reduced to a black void. "I can't see," I whispered, panic rising. Chloe promised she' d be my eyes, my guide, my unwavering support, swearing we'd still marry. I clung to her words, my only light in that crushing darkness.
Weeks later, a flicker. A tiny spark in the blackness. My sight was returning, painstakingly slow, but I kept it a secret. I became an observer in my own home, a blind man who could see everything. And what I saw shattered my world.
One evening, Chloe' s brother-in-law, Ryan, came for dinner. I watched, pretending to be oblivious, as he snaked his arm around Chloe' s waist, pulling her close. Then he kissed her. A deep, hungry kiss. She kissed him back. My fiancée.
Later, from the couch, pretending to be asleep, I heard their whispers from the balcony. "The accident was a stroke of genius, Ry. It worked better than we could have hoped." My blood ran cold. "He's so dependent now," Chloe sneered. "A blind fool. He signed over power of attorney to me last week." Ryan' s voice, greedy, "And the inheritance from his parents?" "Massive," she breathed. "Once we're married, it's all ours." The car crash wasn't an accident. They tried to kill me, or at least incapacitate me, for my money.
My love for her died. The betrayal was a physical blow, leaving only cold, hard fury. They thought they had broken me. They thought I was a helpless victim. They were wrong. I would continue to be the blind man, observe their treachery, and on our wedding day, I would bring it all crashing down. This wasn't just about justice. This was about revenge. From Shadow Dad to Empire Heir
Billionaires For five years, I lived a shadow life, the anonymous architect behind my wife, Sabrina Anderson's, skyrocketing tech empire, and a devoted stay-at-home dad to our son, Caleb.
Tonight, her company' s IPO launch party, was supposed to be our public unveiling, the moment she' d finally acknowledge us, our little "forever home."
But bathed in the spotlight, she introduced her ex-boyfriend and his son as her new "family."
My heart nearly burst as Caleb, our five-year-old, ran to her, holding the miniature house he' d built, only for her to shove him away, her voice cutting like ice: "Who let this strange child in here?"
Caleb collapsed, his small hand clutching his chest-his heart condition flaring.
As Wesley' s spoiled son viciously kicked him, Sabrina slapped me, hissing, "You brought this misbehaving child to ruin my night? Get out!"
With her cruel words echoing, Caleb' s last whisper, "I'm a nobody," tore through me, just before his little body went limp.
He was gone.
How could the woman I loved, the mother of my child, discard us so brutally?
How could she celebrate her triumph while our son lay dying?
The world had seen her as a hero, but I knew her as a monster.
Consumed by a grief that curdled into ice-cold fury, I made a call I swore I' d never make-to the powerful father I' d abandoned a decade ago.
Now, Ethan Anderson was dead.
Ethan Wright, heir to a formidable empire, was coming back, and Sabrina Anderson was about to learn the true cost of her betrayal. Reborn in Fire: A Second Chance at Vengeance
Modern My alarm shrieked, a familiar sound that usually meant chaos and camaraderie with my fiancé, Anthony, at Station 51.
But this time, it was a second chance.
In my previous life, a new probie, Sabrina Chavez, claimed to have chilling premonitions.
I scoffed at her "bad feelings" during a warehouse fire, only to witness a section of the roof collapse exactly where she'd warned.
My captain, usually level-headed, and even Anthony, my partner in everything, started believing her.
Then came the day I was benched, branded a jinx by Sabrina' s latest "prophecy."
During a hazmat spill, my team-my family-froze, watching, as chemicals ate through my skin.
Anthony, the man I loved, stood there, paralyzed by Sabrina's terrified gaze, as I screamed for help.
I died alone, betrayed, in a hospital room, not understanding how fear could turn my own crew into murderers.
What secret did Sabrina hold that stripped away their courage, turning them into cold, superstitious strangers who let me burn?
But now, I' m back. The alarm is screaming again, the call is the same, and Sabrina is about to make her first prediction. This time, I' m not just fighting fires; I' m fighting for my life, and I' m taking down everyone who betrayed me. Betrayed by Blood
Young Adult Thanksgiving weekend was just around the corner, and as an intern ranger, I was preparing for what my supervisor, Mark Thorne, called a "mandatory exploratory survey" to Devil's Gulch.
But this seemingly routine assignment was a meticulously planned death trap, set by the man I worked for and the sister I loved.
The rock bit into my back, a sharp pain, then nothing as my climbing rope went slack, sabotaged, as I plummeted into the cold darkness of the crevasse.
Mark's chilling, empty smile was the last thing I saw above me on the narrow ledge, my sister Emily looking away, silent, complicit, as I fought for air.
Killed.
By my own supervisor and the only family I had left, betrayed for reasons I couldn't comprehend as my life vanished in an instant.
Then I jolted awake, not in a freezing abyss, but in my familiar bunk, the comforting scent of pine from my cheap park-issued mattress filling the air.
My heart hammered against my ribs as I touched my face, my arms, realizing there were no broken bones, no blood.
The calendar on the wall screamed at me: three days before that fateful Thanksgiving trip to Devil's Gulch.
I was alive.
It was a memory, vivid, terrifying, but now it was also a warning.
A second chance.
This time, I wouldn't be the naive one; I would protect myself first, and if I could, protect my sister from him and from herself.
I could still stop this.
And I would. His Fatal Plan, Her Flourishing Future
Modern I was just scrolling through a silly online forum, the kind where people ask if they're the bad guy.
My life as a stay-at-home mom felt quiet, a stark contrast to my old marketing career.
Then, an anonymous post caught my eye: "AITA for wanting to trick my nagging wife into a temporary legal separation?"
The man detailed a plan to claim a big overseas job required him to be single, all to leave with his mistress.
A chill went down my spine; it was a nasty, elaborate lie.
The very next morning, my husband Mark, usually so predictable, sat me down, beaming.
He described an amazing overseas job, needing a "temporary separation on paper" for legal reasons.
His exact words mirrored the forum post.
My stomach twisted; this couldn't be happening.
The father of my child, my husband of seven years, was orchestrating this cruel deception.
Later that night, the anonymous poster updated: "She agreed! Now planning to fake my death abroad."
My blood ran cold; he wasn't just leaving, he was vanishing.
Mark had emptied our joint savings, taking every last penny.
He hugged Lily goodbye, promising presents, while I knew he was planning to disappear entirely.
I looked at the man I married, and a cold certainty settled in.
But he had no idea I had my own secret escape fund, carefully built for years.
This wasn't the end of me; it was just the beginning of his undoing. His Toxic Legacy
Modern My seven-year relationship with Mark was a whirlwind of late nights building our startup, a venture I poured my entire life into.
He was my co-founder, my boyfriend, and soon, I thought, my future.
Then, the unthinkable happened: a notification pinged, and Mark was dead, a shocking end to my world.
But before I could even grieve, his pre-recorded video went viral, branding me a "toxic ex" and leaving everything we built to Tiffany, his college obsession.
The internet exploded, a torrent of hate branding me a gold-digger, a villain in his self-authored drama.
His lawyer delivered a cruel letter, demanding I arrange his lavish funeral for Tiffany and financially support his parents who had always treated me like dirt.
I fought, I won my share of the company, but my name was mud, my reputation shattered.
Just as I stepped out of court, vindicated but broken, a monstrous SUV barrelled towards me.
Tiffany knelt over my bleeding body, a serene smile on her face, confessing she' d orchestrated Mark' s death for his money.
The pain was searing, but the rage was absolute – how could I have been so blind, so used, so utterly disposable?
My life, my sacrifices, all meticulously destroyed by the very people I trusted most.
Was this truly my end, a footnote in their cruel game?
Then, a jolt.
I opened my eyes to the thumping bass of a college frat party, years in the past, and saw Mark standing across the room.
I had a second chance.
This time, I wouldn't just survive; I would rewrite every single chapter. Her Voice From The Grave
Horror Five years. That's how long I've been dead, my restless spirit clinging to the humid air of Bayou's Rest, a town now filled with an unsettling disquiet. My former love, Michael, now mayor and married to my sister Jessica, dismisses the eerie whispers as 'superstition,' but his fear is palpable. He hired a 'paranormal expert' to cleanse the bayou, unaware he was about to disturb more than mud.
What the expert unearthed wasn't just ancient trash, but a rotted wooden box containing a chilling secret: my skeletal arms. And with them, a leather-bound journal, my own handwriting detailing my deep love for Michael, his sudden coldness, and my sister Jessica's calculated manipulations. The truth, buried deep, was finally stirring.
Michael's face went ashen, but Jessica, ever the perfect actress, shrieked 'Lies!' painting me as 'unstable,' 'vindictive.' My parents, complicit in her charade, shamefully echoed, 'Sarah was never right. Always making things up.' They reinforced a false narrative, trying to bury my truth, and me, once more.
But the journal held a secret far worse than simple betrayal: Jessica's ultimate motive. She didn't just abandon me to starve in that fishing shack; she murdered me because I was pregnant with Michael' s child. Then, she brutally dismembered me, scattering my remains in a dark ritual to forever bind my spirit. My righteous fury, a cold spot in the bayou, demanded justice.
Only Father Gabriel, with eyes that saw beyond the veil, understood the profound injustice that cursed Bayou's Rest. Driven by an unwavering sense of cosmic imbalance, he set out to uncover every last piece of me, both body and truth, determined to confront Michael, Jessica, and the town with the horrifying reality they tried to deny, no matter the cost. His Secret Son, Her Silent Rage
Modern My life was a picture-perfect dream: a loving husband, Ethan, and our joyful six-year-old daughter, Lily.
That perfect image shattered the day I received a letter stating the impossible: my daughter, Lily, was not biologically mine.
My husband calmly tried to brush it off, but a cold suspicion led me to a hidden recording, revealing his affair with another woman, Veronica, and a chilling secret about our first child, Noah, who I was told died at birth.
The truth was a physical blow: Noah was alive, merely swapped at birth by them, then brutally killed by Veronica, and his tiny body preserved as a specimen.
Ethan had even secretly put me on contraception for years, ensuring I couldn't have more children of my own.
My entire life, every memory, every tender moment, had been a calculated lie engineered by the man I loved, leaving me consumed by a silent, bone-deep rage.
How could someone I trusted so completely orchestrate such an elaborate, monstrous betrayal, all while forcing me to live under their roof, seeing the woman who stole my child?
But amidst the wreckage, a burning resolve ignited: I would stop playing the victim, gather every piece of damning evidence, and systematically dismantle the monster who destroyed my family, piece by agonizing piece. 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.
From Jilted Bride To Mafia Empress
Xiao Wang For seven years, I was the architect of my fiancé's criminal empire and the strategist behind his every move. I was Dante Gallo’s unofficial Consigliere, his partner in everything but name. Tomorrow, I was finally supposed to marry him and take my place as the queen to his throne.
But on the eve of our wedding, a single text message sent by mistake detonated my life. It was a photo from Dante, showing a platinum wedding band on his hand. The message read: “Married this morning. She’s safe now.”
My gaze fell to the engagement ring on my own finger. It was the identical band, just smaller. The engraved initials ‘D.I.’ didn’t stand for Dante and I. They stood for Dante and Isabella—his childhood sweetheart. My entire relationship was a lie; I was just a shield to protect his one true love.
He dismissed my discovery as a "tantrum." Then, his new bride began taunting me, sending a picture of them tangled in bedsheets with the caption: "Loser." They expected me to break. They thought I would shatter.
They were about to find out just how wrong they were. I forwarded the picture to Isabella’s fiancé, a man far more dangerous than Dante. "Your fiancée is in Suite 8808 at the Grand Hyatt," I told him. "I'll meet you downstairs. We're going to crash their party." The Don's Wife Is His Executioner
Deeply Engaged My husband swallowed a ten-year prison sentence to save me from my abusive stepfather. When he got out, he built a mafia empire and made me his Queen.
But last night, his encrypted tablet lit up with an ultrasound photo and a text from another woman.
"Our little secret is growing."
The mistress soon called to mock me. She was pregnant, while I had been barren for four years. When I confronted my husband, he didn't apologize. Instead, he assigned heavily armed guards to protect her and burned my divorce papers with his cigar.
"The only exit from this Family is death," he warned.
The nightmare deepened when I uncovered her true identity. The mistress was my half-sister, and her mastermind was the mother who had abandoned me at six. My husband knew. He even whispered our sacred vow to her-"I will shield you from the blood"-the exact words he used when I lost our child on a freezing concrete floor for his syndicate.
I took bullets for him. I waited a decade outside those prison gates. Yet he used my absolute loyalty to lock me in a cage, handing my crown to the family that threw me to the wolves.
He thought I was just a helpless wife, entirely dependent on his mercy.
He didn't know I was Vanguard, the shadow billionaire controlling the very lifelines of his empire.
I calmly picked up my phone and called my head operative.
"Liquidate his supply chains. Let's see whose empire turns to ash first." 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. 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. A Virgin For The Mafia Prince
Tami Wynter Elena's world takes a wild spin when the rugged Mafia prince, Dante, chooses to wed her over her cousin, Antonia. Facing her abusive family's wrath for allegedly enchanting the mafia prince, Elena's heart remains loyal to her true love, Isaac, whom she plans to escape with.
Against her wishes, Dante seals their marriage fate, leaving Elena helpless. Yet, Dante's love for her is boundless, until a sudden twist frames her for betrayal. Unfazed, Dante turns cold and ruthless, opting to marry her cousin.
As Dante's cruelty escalates, a shocking revelation unveils the truth behind the false accusation. But it's too late – Elena's heart, once warmed by their love, turns icy. Despite Dante's desperate attempts to mend their shattered connection, the wounds of betrayal threaten to forever shatter their once-promising love story. A BRIDE FOR THE MAFIA LORD
Nooriva "Where do you think you're going, huh? You're mine now, Little Mouse. Get back in the house!" Vincenzo's voice boomed, sending chills down Victoria's spine as her world seemed to crumble.
Victoria Washington was shattered-betrayed by her boyfriend who dumped her the day before his wedding, to her sister. She was left humiliated, mocked by everyone. But fate had other plans for her.
She's broken, he's lost. She's full of fear, and he's the monster. Yet, somehow, he's her light while he remains in darkness.
Vincenzo Dante will stop at nothing to tarnish his family's name for forcing him into a marriage he never wanted. But what he doesn't realize is that his new wife is stronger than she seems-too broken to bend under his cruelty. But when love begins to bloom, and secrets start to unfold, what will happen next?
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. 
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