Lan Diao
9 Published Stories
Lan Diao's Books and Stories
Reborn To Save My Coldhearted Billionaire Fiancé
Modern Chloe floated above her own casket, a silent ghost watching her opulent Hollywood funeral.
But when the mourners left, her weeping best friend Sabrina wiped away her fake tears and smiled.
"I finally won," Sabrina whispered to Chloe's cold face.
She confessed to orchestrating everything. She had paid for the acid attack that ruined Chloe's career, and she was the one who pushed Chloe off that fatal rooftop.
Sabrina bragged about stealing Chloe's fame, her movie roles, and her fiancé, Adrian.
Suddenly, the chapel doors burst open.
Adrian strode in, his eyes feral. The cold, distant fiancé Chloe thought never cared about her had already uncovered Sabrina's entire conspiracy.
He didn't hand her to the police. He dragged Sabrina into the basement and brutally mutilated her to avenge Chloe.
Then, Adrian walked back to Chloe's casket, his confident stride completely broken.
"A world without you is not a world I want to live in," he whispered.
He pulled out a gun, pressed it to his temple, and pulled the trigger.
Chloe's soul shattered with agonizing regret. She had been so blind to Sabrina's venom and Adrian's profound love, driving the only man who truly cared for her to his death.
Opening her eyes again, the sharp smell of antiseptic hit her.
She was strapped to an operating table, staring at a blinding surgical lamp.
She was reborn, back on the exact day Sabrina planned to permanently ruin her face. Reborn To Claim My Billionaire Enemy
Romance When I woke up on the muddy bank of the freezing river, I unlocked a brutal, unfiltered preview of my actual future.
For the past six months, I had been the town's ultimate joke, chasing after a city boy who looked at me like a diseased insect. Everyone thought I jumped into the river because he rejected me.
But the nightmare didn't stop there. In the future I foresaw, my entire family was destroyed. My eldest brother was handcuffed and dragged into a squad car. My second brother died in a pool of blood on the asphalt. My parents passed away from sheer grief and humiliation, and our farm was foreclosed.
Meanwhile, Bart Hawkins—my family's sworn enemy, the boy everyone accused of pushing me, but who actually jumped in to save my life—became a billionaire tech mogul. I ended up starving to death in a damp, moldy basement, completely alone.
I finally understood that I was just a pathetic, tragic side character meant to drag my family into hell. My own sister-in-law, Felicie, had been stealing our food and money, laughing at my misery behind my back.
But right now, my mother was still alive, my brothers were safe, and the farm was ours.
When Felicie walked into my bedroom, playing the devoted sister-in-law with a bowl of clear, meatless broth while a stolen roasted chicken thigh leaked grease through her apron pocket, I didn't play along.
"What's in your pocket, Felicie?"
This time, I was going to tear that horrific future apart with my bare hands. My Mad King's Love, Forever Mine
Werewolf For a thousand years, the Vora beastmen have been cursed by a madness-a burning sickness in their blood that only one thing can soothe: the legendary 'Blood-Blessed,' a human female whose very scent is a living cure.
When a virus wiped out nearly all females, their desperate hunt for this mythical girl turned into a brutal conquest. They crushed our fallen human kingdoms, reducing us to breathing meat under their cruel "Livestock Codex."
To save my little sister from being branded for their elite breeding auction, I took her place in the male-only death draft.
Disguised as a boy, I was thrown into a pitch-black labyrinth, a living sacrifice meant to feed their ultimate nightmare: the feral, half-dragon Mad King.
He tore our steel cage apart like wet paper. I pressed my back against the freezing wall, watching in horror as he slaughtered the screaming men around me.
He ripped the filthy coat from my body, exposing my true gender. As his crimson eyes locked onto my throat and he opened his jaws for the kill, my rage burned away my fear.
I was a pureblood heiress of a dead empire, but I would not die cowering like an animal. I gripped a shard of glass, ready to aim for his eye.
But as he lunged, the glass sliced my palm. The moment my blood hit the air, the legend became my reality. The sweet, intoxicating scent that flooded the dark wasn't just my pheromones-it was the living cure.
The terrifying, apocalyptic tyrant froze mid-strike. He dropped his massive body to his knees, his fangs retracting as he gently, desperately licked my bleeding hand.
His chaotic red eyes darkened with an absolute, world-ending obsession as he pulled my fragile body against his burning chest.
"Mine."
I was meant to be his final meal. They called me the Blood-Blessed. He called me his Queen. From Broken Fiancée To Corporate Queen
Modern I walked into the hospital wing to find my fiancé, Derrick, holding his pregnant high-school sweetheart.
His plan was sickening: he would publicly claim her baby to save her from scandal, while our child, the one I was secretly carrying, would be hidden away-a shameful 'accident'.
He locked me in a damp guesthouse as his mother called me a whore and my unborn child a bastard.
But the true cost of his weakness came when she dragged me to a clinic and forced an abortion, killing my seven-month-old baby while Derrick was away caring for his other family.
Six months later, I returned.
Backed by a powerful new family, I walked into the Bradford Corporation's boardroom to face them all.
Derrick looked at me like he'd seen a ghost, not realizing I was there to take his entire empire.
I signed the papers that made me his boss and smiled for the cameras.
"The old Ava is dead," I whispered. "Long live the queen." My Stolen Life, Their Bitter Downfall
Modern I was Aurora Sterling, a talented physician who, to protect my fragile stepsister Clara, took the fall for financial fraud and went to prison.
I served one year. My family, my fiancé Julian Thorne, they all promised me it was temporary, that they would wait for me, that they would take care of everything. They said Clara needed me to do this.
A year later, I walked out of the prison gates not to the embrace of my family, but to cold, empty air. They hadn't come. They were all at a party, celebrating Clara's birthday—celebrating her new place as the sole Sterling heiress, the new woman at Julian's side.
The lie shattered in that instant. The "sister" I had sacrificed everything to protect had, in my absence, stolen my life. Julian, the man who had sworn he loved me, had fallen into her carefully woven trap of "fragility," his favoritism becoming the sharpest knife twisted in my back.
They thought I was weak. They thought I would once again yield for the sake of so-called "family."
They were about to find out just how fatally wrong they were. A Pawn, A Son, A Forced Marriage
Modern Two years ago, my fiancé, Connor, tossed the only life jacket to his mistress, Ilene, and watched me drown. I was pregnant with his child.
He found me living a quiet life as a fisherman's wife on a remote island, dragged me back to his world, and revealed a shocking truth: our son, the one I thought I'd lost, was alive. He had been raised by them all along.
Connor divorced Ilene and tried to force me into marriage, using our son as a pawn. But the boy he'd raised was a stranger, twisted by his father's cruelty, calling me a "bad woman."
That's when I knew I had to destroy them.
I returned to the island, not as a victim, but as Ayla Garcia, the island chief's long-lost daughter.
"Connor Foster," my father roared, his voice echoing through the hall, "you dared to touch my daughter? Get out of my sight, now!"
He thought he could ruin my life, but he never realized he was trespassing in my kingdom. When Love Became A Transaction
Modern The phone rang, a sharp, unwelcome sound cutting through the quiet of my office. It was Olivia, my wife.
A smile touched my lips. Six months pregnant, a miracle after years of heartbreak.
"Hey, honey. Everything okay? Did you pick out a color for the nursery yet? I' m still team blue."
Then, silence. A heavy, dead-air kind of quiet.
Her voice, when it came, was a ghost: "Ethan… can you come to the hospital?"
My heart stopped. My mind raced through a thousand terrible possibilities, but none prepared me for the sight of her in the surgical waiting room, her face pale, her belly-our baby-gone.
"I had an abortion, Ethan." Her words shattered my world.
"He was bad luck," she said simply, as if explaining the weather. Then she pointed towards the ICU. "Liam is in here. He was in a car accident."
Liam. Her college sweetheart. The ghost in our marriage.
"The baby… he was too perfect. All our good luck went to him. I had to get rid of the bad luck. I had to save him." Her twisted logic was terrifying.
I stumbled home to find my mother humming happily in the nursery, folding a tiny blue onesie. The room was a testament to a dream now destroyed.
"She lost him," I managed to tell her, a desperate lie to shield her from the grotesque truth. But she sensed it.
The pain of our son' s death, coupled with Olivia's betrayal, hit my mother hard. Her doctor called it "broken heart syndrome."
Then came the call from Olivia's doctor. "It's highly unlikely Olivia will be able to conceive again. The damage is permanent."
That night, I discovered our joint savings account, tens of thousands of dollars, completely drained. Funneled to Liam's experimental medical clinic.
I found Olivia at his bedside, peeling an apple for him. "It wasn't a problem," she said, "It was a sacrifice. For you. For us."
"Good girl," he replied. "Once I'm out of here… Miller will be out of the picture."
My son's death wasn't a tragic act of madness. It was a transaction. And I had been played for a fool from the very beginning.
Liam called me, arrogant and triumphant. "You were just a placeholder."
"You're too selfish!" Olivia shrieked, when I confronted her.
Her words, so twisted and absurd, snapped the last thread of any feeling I had for her. "I want a divorce, Olivia."
I hung up, then blocked both their numbers. The decision was made. The war had just begun. Engagement Party Nightmare
Romance My engagement party at the Plaza Hotel was supposed to be my fairy tale. I was Emily White, soon to be Mrs. Jack Anderson, Wall Street’s golden boy, feeling like a princess in my dream gown.
Then, the giant screen, meant for our loving slideshow, flickered. A grainy video played: me, years ago, utterly wasted at a frat party, completely out of control. A collective gasp ripped through the ballroom.
Jack’s face turned from white to furious red. He snatched the mic, bellowing, "This engagement is OFF!" He ripped the diamond ring from my finger, brutally shoving it onto my maid of honor, Sophia’s, hand. "Sophia, at least you have some class." Laughter rippled through the guests as my parents sobbed. My world shattered along with the champagne flute in my numb fingers.
Just as I stood frozen in humiliation, the main doors burst open. Marcus "King" Corleone, the city's whispered-about power, Sophia's "guardian," emerged from the shadows. Silence fell. He stopped the video, took a mic, and his voice, soft yet chilling, commanded everyone to leave.
Only my parents, Jack, Sophia, and I remained. Then, he approached me. “I’ll offer you a contract, Emily. A marriage. To me.” Marry a rumored monster? He gestured to Sophia, who was preening with my ring. My career, my future, my reputation—all gone. Despair washed over me. What choice did I have? I whispered, "Yes." You might like
Jilted Heiress: Marrying The Untouchable Tycoon
Piao Guo Allison Montgomery was waiting at the airport when an audio alert from her parked Range Rover flashed on her phone.
Assuming it was a break-in, she checked the live dashcam feed, only to see her fiancé, Finn, and her younger sister, Cheyanne, passionately making out in the backseat.
"Tell me I'm better than her," Cheyanne whispered. "Tell me I'm better than Allison."
"You are," Finn gasped. "God, you are."
When Allison confronted her family with the video, she expected justice.
Instead, her uncle and mother fiercely defended the cheaters.
They blamed Allison's "cold and frigid" nature for pushing Finn away, victim-blaming her in front of the entire household staff.
To protect their corporate alliance, her uncle ruthlessly announced that the engagement would be transferred to Cheyanne, and threatened to strip Allison of her inheritance.
Stripped of her fiancé, her family, and her dignity, Allison realized her pristine twenty-year life was a complete lie.
The people who were supposed to love her were actively protecting her abusers, leaving her utterly isolated and burning with a cold, protective rage.
Refusing to be their victim, Allison targeted Finn's ruthless, billionaire uncle, Adam Kensington, proposing a fake marriage to secure the capital needed to crush her family.
But when the notoriously untouchable Wall Street phantom not only accepted her proposal, but demanded she immediately move into his penthouse to raise his secret daughter, Allison realized she had just sold her soul to the devil. Flash Marriage to the Tycoon, I'm Spoiled Rotten
Hollow Echo Cast out by an "elite" family and mocked by high society, Elena shocked everyone by marrying the most powerful man in town.
They assumed it was a temporary arrangement-after all, he had said, "The agreement is for two years. After that, we're done."
Yet after the wedding, he refused to let her go. "Elena, you can't leave me."
As he doted on her, rumors shattered one by one. A renowned painter, top hacker, and tech mastermind-her true identities stunned the world.
When a luxury empire announced their lost heiress, all eyes turned to her. "Why did she look exactly like Elena?" The Unwanted Wife Is A Zillionaire
Reilly Mcardle For seven years, I played the perfect, hidden wife to billionaire August Chambers while working quietly as an ER nurse.
Three days before our marriage contract expired, he stormed into my emergency room carrying a bleeding woman. It was Allena, his cousin's fiancée.
She had suffered a ruptured corpus luteum from their violent, aggressive sex. Instead of hiding his affair, August ordered me to clear the floor and threw a massive check at my face to buy my silence. Later, his friends trapped me in a VIP club. When a waiter tripped, August violently shoved me aside just to protect Allena from a spilled cup of coffee. I crashed into a glass table, a sharp edge slicing deep into my arm.
"Apologize to her, and I'll have my driver take you to the hospital."
As my blood soaked into the white rug, he stood over me, demanding I get on my knees for his mistress. He didn't know I had faked a miscarriage five years ago to secretly raise our daughter far away from his cruelty. He also didn't know the money he flaunted was pocket change compared to my hidden AI tech empire.
I calmly tied a tourniquet around my bleeding arm with my teeth and wiped my blood directly over his heart onto his custom suit.
"I'm done with you."
The submissive nurse was dead, and it was time to let him burn in the ruins of his own lies. Married To My Ex-Fiancé's Silent Uncle
Ming Yue Twenty minutes before the "Wedding of the Century" at The Plaza, I stood outside the Presidential Suite in a fifty-thousand-dollar Vera Wang gown. I was the girl from a West Virginia trailer park about to marry Hugh Maxwell, the golden heir to a billion-dollar defense empire.
I pushed the door open only to find Hugh pinned against the bed with my own stepsister, Floy. She was wearing my bridal diamond necklace, and the sounds of their laughter scraped against my eardrums like sandpaper.
I didn't scream; I listened as Hugh grunted that once the wedding was over and the trust fund unlocked, he'd dump "that hillbilly trash" on a bus back to the mountains. They weren't just cheating; they were planning to steal my family's land deeds and leave me with nothing. When I set off the sprinklers and exposed their naked bodies to the paparazzi, the Maxwell family didn't apologize. They called me a "greedy peasant" and threatened to ruin my life unless I signed a new deal to save their crashing stock.
I realized then that I was never a bride to them. I was a transaction, a rounding error in a ledger to be used and discarded. They thought my poverty made me weak and my silence made me a victim.
"If we don't have a marriage certificate by midnight, the bank freezes thirty percent of our liquidity," their lawyer warned.
So, I gave them exactly what they wanted. I used a loophole in their hundred-year-old family covenant and married the only other direct heir available. I didn't marry Hugh. I walked into the ICU and married his uncle, Fleet Maxwell-the legendary war hero who had been in a vegetative state for months.
Now, I am the matriarch of the Maxwell dynasty. I've suspended Hugh's executive powers, exiled my mother-in-law to the Swiss Alps, and taken control of the family vault. They think I'm just a gold-digger waiting for a "corpse" to die so I can collect a fifty-million-dollar widow's payout.
But last night, as I lay beside my comatose husband, the man they called a vegetable gripped my hand back. The Jilted Ex-Wife Is A Zillionaire
Felix Turner Isabel returned to her penthouse after a grueling seventeen-hour flight, only to be greeted by the cloying scent of another woman's perfume.
Her husband of three years, Darius, sat waiting with divorce papers. He wanted to marry his mistress, Dove, and offered Isabel a measly one million dollars, treating her like a greedy charity case from the Rust Belt who should just take the payout and vanish.
But Isabel didn't want his pity. She demanded the four percent equity stake in his family's company that she rightfully owned—a stake worth 1.5 billion dollars. When she revealed this, the wealthy family turned vicious. They refused to acknowledge that she had secretly saved their empire from bankruptcy years ago. Instead, Darius and Dove orchestrated a brutal public execution. They ambushed her at a top law firm, spreading malicious lies that her investment money was stolen from a Ponzi scheme. They even hired a fake victim to scream at her in the lobby, successfully terrifying Isabel's lawyer into dropping her case on the spot.
She had quietly rescued their entire legacy, yet they were willing to frame her as a criminal and destroy her life just to keep her rightful billions.
As Darius and his mistress gloated over her absolute ruin, the most ruthless and feared lawyer in New York suddenly stepped in front of Isabel, his voice cutting through the dead silence.
"Your case, I'll take it." Untouchable After Goodbye: She Had A Secret Empire
Mira Westfield "Let's get a divorce. She's pregnant and deserves a place in my life."
He once promised to protect Claire forever, yet when his first love returned, he cast her aside. For three years, Claire dimmed her brilliance, living quietly as the obedient wife behind him.
When he handed her divorce papers to give his pregnant mistress a place, Claire no longer hid her talents.
The woman he had overlooked was a legendary healer, racing prodigy, and a genius designer. After the divorce, she reclaimed her glory.
When he pleaded, "Honey, let's remarry," another man pulled her close. "She's my wife now. As for you... Someone, take him out and give him what he deserves!" Beneath His Ugly Wife's Mask: Her Revenge Was Her Brilliance
Lukas Difabio Elliana, the unfavored "ugly duckling" of her family, was humiliated by her stepsister, Paige, who everyone admired. Paige, engaged to the CEO Cole, was the perfect woman-until Cole married Elliana on the day of the wedding. Shocked, everyone wondered why he chose the "ugly" woman.
As they waited for her to be cast aside, Elliana stunned everyone by revealing her true identity: a miracle healer, financial mogul, appraisal prodigy, and AI genius.
When her mistreatment became known, Cole revealed Elliana's stunning, makeup-free photo, sending shockwaves through the media. "My wife doesn't need anyone's approval." Secret Triplets: The Billionaire's Second Chance
Roderic Penn I stood at my mother's open grave in the freezing rain, my heels sinking into the mud. The space beside me was empty. My husband, Hilliard Holloway, had promised to cherish me in bad times, but apparently, burying my mother didn't fit into his busy schedule.
While the priest's voice droned on, a news alert lit up my phone. It was a livestream of the Metropolitan Charity Gala. There was Hilliard, looking impeccable in a custom tuxedo, with his ex-girlfriend Charla English draped over his arm. The headline read: "Holloway & English: A Power Couple Reunited?"
When he finally returned to our penthouse at 2 AM, he didn't come alone-he brought Charla with him. He claimed she'd had a "medical emergency" at the gala and couldn't be left alone. I found a Tiffany diamond necklace on our coffee table meant for her birthday, and a smudge of her signature red lipstick on his collar. When I confronted him, he simply told me to stop being "hysterical" and "acting like a child."
He had no idea I was seven months pregnant with his child. He thought so little of my grief that he didn't even bother to craft a convincing lie, laughing with his mistress in our home while I sat in the dark with a shattered heart and a secret life growing inside me.
"He doesn't deserve us," I whispered to the darkness. I didn't scream or beg. I simply left a folder on his desk containing signed divorce papers and a forged medical report for a terminated pregnancy. I disappeared into the night, letting him believe he had successfully killed his own legacy through his neglect.
Five years later, Hilliard walked into "The Vault," the city's most exclusive underground auction, looking for a broker to manage his estate. He didn't recognize me behind my Venetian mask, but he couldn't ignore the neon pink graffiti on his armored Maybach that read "DEADBEAT." He had no clue that the three brilliant triplets currently hacking his security system were the very children he thought had been erased years ago. This time, I wasn't just a wife in the way; I was the one holding all the cards. 
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