Jun Wen
6 Published Stories
Jun Wen's Books and Stories
The Vengeful Ex-Fiancée Returns Strong
Modern On my birthday, I went to the resort I designed to tell my fiancé, Elias, that I was pregnant with his child.
Instead, I found him at the altar, marrying my stepsister in a ceremony officiated by my own mother.
When I confronted him, he laughed. "Pregnant? You're delusional, Aubrie. Kallie is dying, and you're here spreading malicious lies."
My entire family agreed. They called me a jealous monster.
During a wildfire at the resort, he shoved me to the ground to save her, breaking my leg and causing me to lose our baby. They left me there, alone and broken, convinced I was insane.
They thought they had destroyed me.
But from my hospital bed, I made a single phone call to my lawyer. I didn't just want to disappear from their lives-I wanted to erase them from the world. And I had the evidence to do it. Convenient Marriage, Shattered Dreams
Romance My plane landed smoothly, yet my heart churned with a nervous hope.
I hadn' t told David I was coming, hoping to bridge the growing chasm in our two-year "convenient" marriage-a partnership built more on family connections than genuine affection.
But as I watched David Hayes' s assistant, Sarah Jenkins, casually link arms with him at the airport, her "smooth and practiced" voice oozing familiarity, a cold dread began to set in.
She looked like a model, not the efficient helper David had mentioned.
Her eyes, bright and confident, scanned me from head to toe, making me feel like a specimen under a microscope, an intruder.
"You have to be careful, Chloe. Men can get tired of the same old thing. It' s good you came to check up on him," she purred in the car, a thinly veiled warning coated in false sweetness.
My husband, David, just gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white, and offered a weak, dismissive laugh.
He didn't defend me; he managed the situation.
That night, alone in his hotel suite, scrolling through a torrent of screenshots Sarah had mysteriously sent, my world shattered.
"It' s a convenient marriage, Sarah. You know that. It' s not about passion."
"You and me? We' re about everything else."
The words, his words, tore through me like a physical blow.
He had a whole vibrant life here-concerts, dinners, milestones-a life I was excluded from.
My once protective, encouraging husband, the boy who called me pretty, was gone, replaced by a stranger who saw me as a "plain," "boring" obligation.
The next day, during a forced shopping trip, he picked out a scarf for me.
"Sarah has one just like it. She has amazing taste," he said.
Then, he bought an identical one for her, right in front of me, using our "fresh start" as a cover for his infidelity.
"People might compare," he fretted, not worried about me, but about what Sarah or his circle would think if we wore the same thing.
My humiliation turned to ice.
Then, Sarah appeared, melting into tears at the sight of the scarf, claiming they had picked it out.
David, without a moment's hesitation, bolted after her, leaving me standing alone on a crowded street, holding the symbol of his betrayal.
"He chose her," my mind screamed, the realization a stark, brutal clarity. His Art, Her Agony
Romance The relentless buzz of my phone announced another rejection, a common melody in the life of a struggling indie filmmaker.
Then, my best friend' s panicked face flashed on screen: "Chloe, have you seen the news? It\'s Ethan. His new exhibition. It\'s everywhere."
A cold dread washed over me-Ethan, my estranged artist-husband, whose art had always blurred the lines of our life.
But what I saw on that major art blog wasn\'t art; it was a violation: intimate photos of me, twisted into a public spectacle, portraying me as his "tragic muse."
The comments section exploded: #JusticeForChloe, #CancelEthanMiller, yet it felt like a new form of torment, a public stripping of my privacy.
I stormed to his loft, demanding answers, only for him to shrug, "It\'s art, Chloe. It\'s supposed to tell the truth."
He stood there, casually threatening to expose painful, private moments to my traditional grandmother if I didn\'t publicly apologize and collaborate in his twisted narrative.
Before I could process his cruelty, the phone rang again-the nursing home.
My grandmother had fallen.
She died in the hospital, her last words a plea for me to be strong, to not let anyone make me feel small, as my humiliated face was plastered across the news.
When I returned to the loft, Ethan was there with his new muse, Ava, who, feigning sympathy, accidentally revealed she knew about my grandmother' s death.
Then, a charity gala, a public relations stunt, where Ethan unveiled a new sculpture-encasing my grandmother\'s stolen locket, pulled directly from her grave.
Ava tearfully accused me, playing the perfect victim, implying I had desecrated her grave for art.
Ethan, without hesitation, believed her, his eyes filled with a cold, performative fury, declaring me a monster and having me dragged away.
Trapped, discarded, then brutally beaten by Ethan under Ava' s gleeful gaze, I realized the full depth of their monstrous betrayal.
My world was shattered, my body broken, but in the ruins of my spirit, a cold, unwavering resolve began to form: Chloe Davis had to die, so Aria Sinclair could rise and burn his world to the ground. Operative Maya: Five Years Cover
Sci-fi My life with Ethan was a predictable loop: his phone calls about Olivia, his "friend" who always needed him, my forgotten anniversaries, and our shared savings mysteriously funneling into her latest drama.
It was exhausting, yet I' d become numb to it, a quiet resignation my constant companion.
Then, a stark notification flashed on my sleek, Agency-issued device: "Covenant Term Conclusion: Operative Maya.
Extraction Protocol initiated.
T-minus seven days." Five years of this life, defined by his neglect and her endless demands, were about to end. Just like that.
A profound, almost liberating indifference washed over me.
Later, true to form, Ethan called, cancelling our anniversary dinner again because Olivia was having a crisis.
He expected my usual quiet frustration, but all I felt was nothing. Every chipped-away piece of me over the years had finally left me utterly empty.
He couldn't comprehend my calm "Okay," only that it wasn't the reaction he was used to. He' d barely noticed how deeply I' d funded his dreams, how I' d been the only one holding onto "our" life.
What did it all even mean, this existence where I was merely an afterthought, an ATM?
But that notification wasn't just an end; it was a beginning.
A countdown to an 'extraction protocol' only I understood.
The taste of freedom was intoxicating, and I knew, with utter certainty, that the real assignment was just beginning. And this time, it was for me. You might like
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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.
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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 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!" 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." Traded Husbands, Tangled Hearts: Can Destiny Be Changed?
Mia Caldwell In their previous lives, Gracie married Theo. Outwardly, they were the perfect academic couple, but privately, she became nothing more than a stepping stone for his ambition, and met a tragic end.
Her younger sister Ellie wed Brayden, only to be abandoned for his true love, left alone and disgraced.
This time, both sisters were reborn. Ellie rushed to marry Theo, chasing the success Gracie once had-unaware she was repeating the same heartbreak.
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Hadley's lips curved faintly. "If you’re eager to see me, you’d better join the queue, darling."