Jing Jing
12 Published Stories
Jing Jing's Books and Stories
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." 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." 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. 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. 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. 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. 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. 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. 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. 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. The Mafia King's Substitute Bride
Western Rose The space between them disappeared. She arched into him, tilting her head as his lips traced a slow path down her jaw, then lower.
Goodness, she wanted more.
***
Valentina De Luca was never meant to be a Caruso bride. That was her sister's role-until Alecia ran off with her fiancé, leaving behind a family drowning in debt and a deal that couldn't be undone. Now, Valentina is the one offered up as collateral, forced into marriage with Naples' most dangerous man.
Luca Caruso has no use for a woman who wasn't part of the original bargain. To him, Valentina is nothing more than a replacement, a means to reclaim what was promised to him. But she isn't as fragile as she seems. And the more their lives tangle, the harder she is to ignore.
Everything begins to go well for her, well, until her sister returns. And with her, the kind of trouble that could ruin them all. 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. Too Late, Mr. Capo: Your Wife Is Gone
Mo Yufei "Happy Anniversary," my husband said, sliding the separation agreement across the mahogany desk.
It was the eighteenth time in five years I had signed these papers.
Matteo De Luca, the most ruthless Capo in New York, checked his Rolex with cold impatience.
"Sign it, Sera. Bianca is on the ledge again. She needs to see we're over, or she jumps."
Bianca. The ward. The broken bird. The woman whose fragile psyche dictated every moment of my marriage.
I signed my name, and he left me alone on our anniversary to save her. Again.
But saving her wasn't enough.
When Bianca pushed me down a flight of marble stairs in a fit of jealous rage, shattering my spine and leaving me paralyzed, I thought Matteo would finally choose me.
I was wrong.
I woke up in the hospital to find him holding her hand, not mine.
"The security footage has been wiped," he told me, his voice void of emotion. "We cannot have a scandal. You fell, Sera. That is the story."
He erased the truth. He erased my pain.
He protected the woman who crippled me over his own wife.
Two months later, he wheeled me into a gala, playing the doting husband while I sat in the chair that was my prison.
He didn't know I had a burner phone hidden in my velvet dress.
He didn't know that tonight, the obedient wife was going to die on the pavement, and a ghost would rise in her place.
I looked at him one last time and dropped the phone in his lap.
"I hope she's worth it." 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 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. 
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