Luo Xi
18 Published Stories
Luo Xi's Books and Stories
Jilted Fiancée? No, The Billionaire Heiress!
Mafia I hid my identity as the heiress of a top-tier wealthy family just to build a normal, quiet life with my fiancé, Jefferey.
We had just picked out our dream villa, but a sudden bank notification shattered my illusion.
The entire $7.8 million from our joint trust fund had been wired to a woman named Jessie Barr.
When I hacked into his synced tablet, the truth hit me like a truck. Jessie wasn't just a stranger; she was his secret lover.
They even had a four-year-old son who shared Jefferey's exact eyes.
"The money is in your account. Our future is secure now. I'll leave her soon."
Reading his messages to her, I realized my three years of devotion were nothing but a long con.
I was just the final "project" he needed to fund his real family.
He used my resources, my connections, and my money to build a life in the shadows with his true love, treating me like a naive piggy bank he could discard at any moment.
I had given up my absolute power for a man who fed me nothing but lies.
But Jefferey forgot one crucial detail. I wasn't just some helpless woman he could ruin.
I calmly closed my laptop and dialed a number I hadn't called in three years.
"Mom, I was wrong. I'm ready to accept the Romero family's marriage alliance."
It was time to gut his company and take everything he owned. Reborn For His Savage Love
Billionaires On my wedding day, the giant screen in the ballroom was supposed to show a romantic video of my fiancé and me.
Instead, it played a sordid deepfake video of me with another man.
My fiancé, the celebrated tech mogul Edward Ford, pointed at me in front of New York’s high society.
“Amelia Stone, you are a disgrace.”
My own father then stepped forward, not to defend me, but to condemn me. He publicly disowned me, announcing he had another, kinder daughter who would take my rightful place.
He gestured to the side, and my illegitimate half-sister, Dara Chase, stepped out, looking innocent and fragile.
Betrayed by the two men I loved most, I fled the ballroom in shame. As I ran into the street, a car hit me with horrific force.
As I died, I floated above my own broken body. I watched as Edward and Dara embraced, their mission accomplished. But then I saw him. Josiah Craft, a guest at the wedding, fell to his knees beside me, his face crumbling into raw, animalistic grief.
I opened my eyes again. I was back in my penthouse, just days before the wedding that was supposed to be my end. Served Scraps By My Cruel Husband
Modern I was once the CEO of a pharmaceutical empire, but now I was a ghost in my own kitchen, forced to serve the husband who stole my life.
Bolden didn't just take my company and frame me as insane; he sat with his mistress, Kandace, and forced me to eat their table scraps like a dog.
They poisoned my father to seize his legacy, gaslit the world into believing I was unstable, and made me scrub floors until my hands were raw and bleeding.
Every day was a performance of submission, a calculated risk to protect my infant son, Leo, from their cruelty.
They thought my silence was defeat.
They believed the drugs had turned me into a hollow shell, unaware that I had been faking taking them for weeks.
When they bulldozed my childhood home and desecrated my father' s grave, the last ember of my old life died-and a cold, ruthless resolve took its place.
Tonight, I' m not just escaping with my son.
I' m taking the evidence of their murders and fraud with me, and I won't stop until their stolen empire burns to ash. From Broken Trophy To Unstoppable Queen
Modern "You could have hurt the baby," my husband snarled, shoving me onto the cold marble floor of the Met Museum.
He didn't check if I was bleeding. He was too busy cradling Alya, the twenty-two-year-old intern I had hired two weeks ago.
Bennett Calloway, the ruthless King of New York, was parading his mistress in front of the city's elite while treating me, his loyal wife of fifteen years, like a clumsy nuisance.
He thought he was teaching me a lesson in obedience.
I later overheard him telling his men, "Kelsey needs to be broken. When she hits rock bottom, she'll come crawling back. That's how you train a wife."
He gave her my vintage Hermès scarf. He let her wear my family diamonds. He stood by as she mocked my infertility, claiming she carried the heir I never could.
He waited for the tears. He waited for the screaming, the begging, the jealousy.
But I didn't cry.
I simply went to our bedroom, took the sketch of the nursery we had planned fifteen years ago, and lit a match.
I watched the dream turn to ash in the wastebasket.
Then, I signed the asset separation agreement, deleted my social media accounts, and threw my SIM card into a sewer grate.
Bennett thought he was breaking a horse. He didn't realize he was freeing a prisoner.
By the time he realized his mistake and tore the world apart looking for me, I was already in Paris, learning that love isn't supposed to hurt. The Pink Car of Betrayal
Modern My husband unveiled a custom pink car on live TV, calling it a "tribute to our love."
The internet hailed him as the perfect man.
But I knew the truth.
That car was the exact place he cheated on me with his VP, Keri.
And the lipstick stain on the passenger seat wasn't mine.
He thought I was at home, waiting to celebrate his success.
Instead, I was at a clinic, signing a waiver to surgically remove my memories.
I aborted the child he desperately wanted.
I smashed the jade locket he claimed bound our souls together.
I burned my passport, my license, and every photo of us in the kitchen sink.
When he finally came home, he found nothing but an empty house and a gift box containing the remains of our unborn child.
A year later, he crashed my engagement party in Charleston, falling to his knees and begging for forgiveness.
I looked down at the weeping billionaire and felt absolutely nothing.
"I'm sorry, sir," I said calmly.
"But do I know you?" Betrayed Love, Unbroken Melody
Young Adult The silence in the practice room was where my future unfolded, a shared dream with my quartet: Juilliard, then the NYC Philharmonic. Ethan, my secret love; Chloe, my stepsister; and Noah, our steady violist.
But the night before my scholarship audition, the dream shattered. Hidden on the stairs, I heard them-Chloe' s sharp voice, "She gets everything. It' s my turn." Then Ethan, the boy I adored, "Avery' s good, but she holds us back with all that… emotional playing."
Betrayal twisted in my gut as I watched my future, a beautiful melody, curdle into a horrifying, dissonant chord. He didn' t love me; they weren' t my friends.
During my audition, my A-string was loose, buzzing horribly. I saw Chloe' s triumphant smile, Ethan staring at the floor. My dream was over, stolen by those I trusted most. My own family echoed their cruelties, my mother accepting the lie that I had "choked."
Then, they tried to take the silver locket, my father' s last gift. Ethan held me, Noah pried my fingers, and Chloe snapped the chain, kicking me as I clutched the broken silver. "What did you do?" Ethan asked Chloe, but it was too late.
In the shattering pain, a cold resolve formed. I would not be broken. When my mentor offered a chance at the Royal Academy of Music, I seized it, a secret spark of hope in the suffocating darkness. My escape began. His Sacrifice, Her Freedom
Romance The acceptance letter for architecture school abroad felt like my escape, a tangible sign I was finally putting myself first after years of playing a role.
I was Ava Green, once a vibrant art history student, who threw it all away to become the devoted caretaker for Liam Hayes, the brilliant tech mogul who lost his sight in a devastating accident.
His family, grateful for my endless devotion, "helped" my grandmother with her medical bills, creating a silent, crushing obligation that bound me to them and to Liam, for years.
I became his eyes, his anchor, abandoning my own dreams to stitch his shattered life back together, believing our shared trauma forged an unbreakable love.
But then Chloe Davis, his ex-fiancée, a glamorous concert pianist from his "real" world, returned, and I watched his affection fracture, then shift entirely.
At his company' s gala, I saw Liam laugh with Chloe, a genuine, unguarded sound I hadn' t heard in months, a brutal reminder that I was just a placeholder.
Later, I overheard Chloe tell Liam that I couldn' t be his partner, "not really," and his silence was all the answer I needed.
My heart shattered, the realization hitting me: I was a glorified nurse, easily discarded the moment his true equal returned.
The public humiliation came swiftly at a charity gala, when Liam' s sister, Sarah, cruelly exposed me as a "charity case" and publicly shamed me, dousing me in wine, while Liam, lost in Chloe' s orbit, remained oblivious.
Why didn' t he see me? Why did he let them do this to me after everything I sacrificed?
That night, packing my bags, I knew I had to escape this gilded cage; I would reclaim my life, pay back every cent, and build a future where I was seen, for myself. Auctioned: A Husband's Comeback
Romance My name is Caleb Duncan, "The Architect" of D.C., and I built my wife, Nicole Hewitt, into a political powerhouse. We were the ultimate power couple, our lives a seamless blend of ambition and strategy, all focused on her rise to the Senate.
But on my birthday, a seemingly innocent Instagram post from a young mentee, Wesley Clark-a kid Nicole and I were putting through college-showed my wife, laughing intimately with him at our old diner, with a caption hinting at stolen moments.
When confronted, Nicole feigned innocence, then dismissed my concerns with cold contempt, revealing a side of her I hadn't known. Just weeks later, at her biggest campaign gala, she projected photos of me on a giant screen, then publicly branded me a "whore" who slept his way through D.C., attempting to auction me off to donors like a piece of meat.
The woman I had loved, built, and trusted more than anyone had orchestrated my public humiliation, my complete professional and personal destruction. How could she do this? Why this level of calculated cruelty?
Drugged and cornered, I saw no escape, until a familiar face, my wife' s fiercest rival, Gabrielle Johns, pulled me from the jaws of despair, ready to help me fight back and burn her world to the ground. The Wife Who Knew Too Much
Modern My father, the most honorable man I knew, was slipping away, but hope glimmered-a lung transplant. Sitting by his hospital bed, holding his hand, I told him we had so much time left.
I stepped out for a moment, and returned to a nightmare. Masked men stood over my father. A phone blinked red, livestreaming. They slammed me against the wall, forcing me to watch as they tore at my clothes and my father, horrified, coded.
The world exploded. The livestream of my humiliation was everywhere, twisted to paint me as a party girl responsible for my father' s death. Ethan, my perfect fiancé, abandoned me. The hospital sued me. Then my mother, broken and blaming me, took her own life.
I was utterly alone, an outcast, haunted by a question that screamed in my mind: Why? Why us? Why me? What unimaginable darkness could orchestrate such public, brutal destruction?
Five years later, a man I thought was my savior, my loving husband, delivered the chilling answer that shattered my entire reality. I was a fool, but being a fool had just become my greatest weapon. The Governor's Daughter: Reborn to Reign
Modern I woke up in my luxurious bedroom at the Governor' s mansion, silk sheets, sunlit, on the eve of my debutante ball. This wasn't the cold, damp room where I' d breathed my last. But then, the memories slammed into me, a tidal wave of betrayal.
My own brother, Harrison, my fiancé, Brent Astor, and Chloe, my father' s orphaned campaign manager' s daughter we' d taken in, had conspired to destroy me. Chloe, in my special gown, stealing my moment. Their public smear campaign, framed as a 'charity initiative,' was a front for an offshore nightmare that meticulously ruined my name.
My father's health mysteriously deteriorated, he died, and Harrison ascended to Governor. I, Savi, died alone, my reputation in tatters, branded for 'mistreating' sweet, innocent Chloe. The phantom pain of my last breath still haunted me.
How could my closest family members unleash such malevolent destruction, assassinating my character and ultimately my life, all while posing as heroes? Why was I, the victim, painted as the villain?
I looked at the calendar: it was that day. The debutante ball. I was back. A fierce, cold rage extinguished the fear. This time, things would be different. Chloe wouldn' t steal anything. Harrison and Brent would pay, dearly. And my father' s honorable legacy? I would secure it, no matter the cost. My Fiancée and My Betrayal
Romance Sarah Miles, a passionate journalist, was just days away from her dream: a prestigious UN Human Rights Correspondent Fellowship in war-torn Lendu and a wedding to her devoted fiancé, Ethan.
Her life, meticulously built, felt like it was finally ascending.
Then, a sudden, insidious message shattered everything.
Anonymous photos and videos flooded her phone, revealing Ethan, naked, with Chloe Hayes – Sarah' s own half-sister.
The man who had relentlessly pursued and championed her ambitions was a brutal liar, caught in a sickening affair.
His desperate excuses and attempts to manipulate the situation only deepened the agonizing wound.
Adding insult to unspeakable injury, Chloe' s chillingly cruel taunts made it clear this wasn't mere infidelity; it was a calculated act of destruction.
How could the man she loved betray her with her own family?
Why would Chloe, whom she was just beginning to connect with, orchestrate such pain?
The sheer audacity and inexplicable malice left Sarah reeling, grappling with a profound sense of injustice and a world turned utterly upside down.
With her meticulously planned future in ashes and her heart irrevocably broken, Sarah made a defiant choice.
The fellowship in Lendu transformed from a career ambition into a desperate, immediate escape.
She systematically dismantled her entire life, prepared to plunge into the chaos of a war zone, determined to find a future free from her shattered past, even if it meant confronting unthinkable dangers alone. My Ex's "C" Was Never Me
Billionaires Another wire transfer pinged.
It was another "apology payment" from Victoria Sterling, my girlfriend of five years.
This one was different: $500,000.
Far more than her usual fifty thousand, a sum that had already made me secretly rich.
I' d played the role of the devoted, slightly naive boyfriend perfectly for too long.
But this unprecedented amount felt less like an apology and more like a severance.
Then, a video message arrived from Dylan Price, from Vicky' s social circle.
It showed Vicky at a party, her arms wrapped around a young man, kissing him deeply.
He looked unsettlingly like me, a younger, perhaps less worn version.
Dylan' s text followed: "That' s Caleb Vance. Her childhood flame. Guess who\'s back?"
Suddenly, Vicky' s pet name, "My C," and her online handles like "ForeverC," made a sickening kind of sense.
I was never "C" for Ethan.
I was a stand-in.
A sharp pang of genuine hurt hit my chest.
I remembered being a scholarship kid from Appalachia, chasing her, believing she saw something in me.
Her friends had called me a "charity case."
I later found her hidden love letters to Caleb, recently signed, calling me "just a boy, a distraction."
When I finally confronted her during our breakup, she exploded.
"You don\'t break up with me, Ethan. I decide when this is over! You belong to me!"
I was shocked by the raw possessiveness in her voice.
Her absolute conviction that she owned me, body and soul.
She saw me as nothing more than an expensive pet, a compliant placeholder.
How could I have been so blind, so foolishly naive for five years?
But that immediate hurt quickly turned cold, pragmatic.
If I was a substitute, I was a well-paid one.
That $500,000 wasn't severance; it was a bonus for a long-term performance.
With millions now in my accounts, I was financially independent.
It was time to leave Vicky and her gilded cage behind. The OAX Murders
Horror Sarah Miller always felt like an outsider among her Omega Alpha Chi sorority sisters, yearning for a place at the heart of their tight circle. One fateful night, after a typical bonding party, she woke to an unspeakable horror: all five of her friends lay dead, victims of acute poisoning. Sarah was the sole survivor.
Instantly, the spotlight of suspicion turned to her. The police presented a chilling web of evidence: a panicked audio recording from Chloe' s phone, capturing her sisters' dying pleas, "Sarah, wake up!"; records showing Sarah's key fob used when she claimed to be sound asleep; and a disturbing handwritten note in her own script, confessing a desire for peace if "they were gone."
Sarah vehemently denied everything, desperate to believe she was asleep, but her memories were a terrifying blur. How could she be involved in such a monstrous act? The pieces didn't fit, adding to her dread: a pre-death text about a "prank" targeting her, and Danielle's chilling journal entry stating, "That wasn't Sarah."
Then came the devastating truth: a forgotten psychiatric history, revealing Dissociative Identity Disorder. And the final, grainy footage – "another Sarah," calmly exiting the room after the murders, a faint, chilling smile on her face. Now confined, Sarah lives in an inescapable nightmare, realizing the horrifying killer is not outside, but an integral, malevolent part of herself, waiting to re-emerge. The Video's Twisted Lie
Young Adult I was nineteen, trapped in a nightmare, living in a house where my mother' s fists were a constant presence, leaving me bruised and broken.
My father was my only hope, a beacon of normal in the chaos, though often conveniently absent.
One day, my boyfriend Ethan, witnessing another brutal attack, finally called 911, but a mysterious video my mother showed him twisted his concern into chilling disgust in an instant.
He walked out, abandoning me, branding me "sick" and "dangerous."
Before him, my own grandparents, the very people who once hugged me tight, had turned their backs after seeing that same hidden footage.
My father, who promised to protect me, also saw the video and joined the silent chorus of condemnation, leaving me utterly alone.
The beatings continued, escalating, my world shrinking to a painful, isolated cell.
What was on that damned video that could turn everyone I loved, every single person, against me, twisting their affection into hatred and judgment?
The injustice burned, the confusion was a constant ache, an unbearable mystery that defined my monstrous new reality.
Pushed to the brink of death in a final, savage assault, the truth finally surfaced: the horrifying secret the video held wasn't about me at all, but my own father' s unspeakable abuse of my sisters, and my mother' s twisted, monstrous attempt at protection.
I was just a pawn in their dark game, but now, finally, I knew their secret, and this time, everything would change. More Than Just Paper: The Degrees That Fought Back
Modern I stood on the polished stage of "Startup Goldrush," a triple-major Ivy League prodigy, ready to pitch myself and make my working-class family proud.
Then, Victoria Sterling, the lead judge, unleashed her attack: dismissing my credentials as "just paper," demanding I decode her vague tech jargon, and insinuating my degrees were fake.
A 'technical glitch' conveniently wiped my digital proof, and then, in a staged "accident," she soaked my physical diplomas with sticky kombucha, smirking as they disintegrated into an illegible mess.
The lowest blow came when my own brother, manipulated backstage, walked out and publicly told me to apologize, demanding I stop embarrassing our family.
Betrayed and humiliated, my world crashed, and I crumpled to the floor in a panic attack on live television, branded an "Ivy League Imposter."
How could years of relentless hard work, incredible sacrifice, and genuine achievement be twisted into such a horrifying, public destruction?
They tried to bury me, but as I lay in the darkness, remembering my brother's calloused hands and unwavering belief, a furious resolve ignited – I wouldn't just survive this, I would fight back.
I opened my laptop, my fingers trembling but firm, and began drafting an email to Dean Thompson, Harvard University, ready to expose their lies. You might like
His Vow Broke, Her Empire Woke
Hei Baidong I was the perfect Mafia wife, my dowry the foundation of my husband's ambition. I paid for his Yale degree, his tailored suits, and the very mansion he called his own. My reward? He paraded his mistress into my bedroom and declared her his second wife, expecting me to silently finance their affair.
They thought they had broken a merchant's daughter. They forgot I was raised by wolves.
Armed with a blood chit—a life debt owed to my family by the most feared man in Chicago—I walked into the lion's den. I went to Damien 'The Wraith' Falcone, the Dark Don who rules the Outfit with an iron fist, to demand a simple annulment.
But the King of Chicago isn't interested in simple transactions. He saw the steel beneath my silk, the vendetta burning in my eyes. He granted me my freedom, but at a price: my allegiance. Now, I'm a pawn in his lethal game of thrones, caught between a treacherous husband I swore to destroy and a ruthless Don who looks at me with a terrifying, possessive hunger.
In a city built on loyalty and betrayal, I'm about to teach them all that a queen's wrath is the deadliest weapon of all. 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.
Married to the Billionaire Mafia Don
Ebony Pete "You're leaving," Lorenzo said softly.
Ivy straightened her spine and raised her chin. "I am. I'm getting out of this place even if it means climbing over the front gates. I can't stay here anymore. I'm leaving!"
"You can't," Lorenzo said flatly. "Not now."
"Watch me," Ivy hissed, brushing past him.
Lorenzo stepped in her way and grabbed her by the arms-not roughly, but firmly.
"I mean it, Ivy. You can't leave," he said tightly.
She struggled against his grip, her bag falling to the floor with a thud.
"Let me go, Lorenzo! I don't belong here. This place is insane. Your family is insane!"
"You belong to me," he said sharply, eyes burning into hers. "And it's my job to protect what's mine."
"I don't want to be yours," Ivy cried. "I want to be free! I want to live!"
Something shifted in Lorenzo's face. He looked at her then, not as an obligation, not as a pawn, but as a person. A frightened, strong, beautiful woman who had been caught in a storm she never asked for. And something in him cracked.
Lorenzo reached down and cupped her face with both hands. Ivy flinched at first but didn't pull away. His thumbs wiped away the tears rolling down her cheeks.
"I never wanted to hurt you," he said quietly.
Her lower lip trembled. "Then let me go..."
"I can't," he whispered.
And then, without thinking, he leaned in and kissed her.
***************
Ivy Wesley believed that marrying a wealthy stranger would be her golden escape from a life of struggle. Lorenzo Martinelli was supposed to be her way out: her fresh start, her answer to every prayer whispered in the dark.
But the moment the mansion doors shut behind her, Ivy understood the truth. She hadn't stepped into a fairy tale. She had walked straight into the lion's den.
The whispers about the Martinelli family's ties to the Mafia aren't just rumors; they're real, and now Ivy is bound to them by a ring on her finger and secrets she can never unlearn. There is no undoing this choice. No clean exit. Not after what she's seen. Not after what she knows.
Surrounded by dangerous alliances, ruthless power plays, and truths sharp enough to draw blood, Ivy finds herself caught in a world where trust is a luxury and loyalty can be lethal. Yet in the middle of the chaos, something even more unexpected takes root: a love she never planned for, never prepared for, and may not survive.
Now Ivy faces an impossible choice: run while she still can, or stand her ground beside the man who could destroy her as easily as he protects her. In a world where betrayal lurks behind every polished smile and devotion can cost a life, can their love endure... or will it be the very thing that brings everything crashing down? Substitute Bride: Taming The Masked Mafia Don
Hei Baidong I was dragged back from the countryside by my father for one purpose: to be a sacrificial lamb.
He ordered me to marry the mafia Don Damien Valachi in place of my sister. Everyone in the underworld knew that this Don's brides never saw the light of the next day. My stepmother put on a fake smile and took my hand, calling it an "honor"; my sister hid behind her, unable to conceal the gleam of triumph in her eyes.
I smiled coldly and held up two fingers: "Twenty million dollars. Now."
My father tried to play tricks, planning to take back the money from my trust fund after I died, but I had someone transfer every cent out before the wedding, leaving him a zero balance.
The next day, the wedding car pulled up to the Valachi estate. The butler ordered the driver to use the service entrance-it seemed my groom didn't think I was worthy of the front gate.
I got out and switched to an armored vehicle. I floored the accelerator, crashing straight through the estate gates. The gates shattered, and I didn't stop until I reached the main steps. I jumped out, the heel of my shoe crushing a broken iron railing, and shouted:
"The bride is here."
I looked up, scanning every window until my gaze stopped on one dark pane. I knew Damien was watching.
I brushed the dust off my skirt, raised my voice a notch, and smiled: "What, the Don of the Valachi family doesn't dare come out to meet his new wife?" My Bestie's Dad Popped My Cherry
Oye's Pen "You've been in denial for so long, Addison." His voice was husky and heavy with lust. "Do you really want me to stop?"
I could not bring myself to say no. My best friend's stepdad was like the devil, making me find so much pleasure in sin.
"You can't even say no," he chuckled, letting go of my hand finally. They moved to my face and he stared into my eyes, while his other hand still worked wonders between my legs.
"Don't make me do this," I finally said, moaning the words out. "Please."
"Tell me to stop one more time and I will," he mumbled.
"Please, st-" I didn't complete my words because he captured my lips with his.
*+*+*+*+*+*+*
Addison Rodriguez never expected to feel any sexual tension or fall in love with her best friend's stepdad. As she surrenders to the sexual tension, her loyalty to her best friend wavers, especially when she finds out that he is secretly a Mafia Lord trying to hide in plain sight and that her best friend's life is in danger, her loyalty is tested even further. Would she reveal his secret to protect her best friend, or keep it to protect her love?
Bound By Vows: My Sleeping Mafia Husband
Zhen Xiang I wasn't marrying into the Falcone mafia because I was loved.
I was being handed over like payment.
My parents owed the Falcones a fortune, and I was the daughter they chose to sacrifice. On my wedding day, I was supposed to become the wife of Enzo Falcone, the golden heir of New York's most dangerous mafia family.
Then an anonymous message lit up my phone.
Want to see your groom? Go to the bridal suite.
I went.
I found Enzo on my wedding bed with my half-sister. Her dress was pushed up. My lace garter, the one meant for me, was wrapped around her ankle like a trophy.
And when the scandal exploded, no one blamed him.
His mother called me a lunatic. My half-sister cried pretty, poisonous tears. Then she revealed the final insult.
She was pregnant with Enzo's child.
They locked down the estate to silence me. They wanted me humiliated, obedient, and disposable. A ruined bride. A convenient scapegoat. A debt paid in flesh and shame.
So I gave them a show they would never forget.
I walked onto the balcony, set my diamond-studded veil on fire, and dropped the burning silk in front of every elite guest who had come to watch me be sold.
Then I went to the true matriarch of the Falcone family and made my own demand.
I would not marry a traitor.
I would marry Damien Falcone instead.
The dead grandson. The fallen Underboss. The legendary God of War.
A dead man could not betray me. A dead man could not touch me. A dead man could give me the power to destroy everyone who had tried to bury me.
At least, that was what I thought.
Until I learned Damien Falcone was not as dead as everyone believed. Jilted Fiancée? No, The Billionaire Heiress!
Luo Xi I hid my identity as the heiress of a top-tier wealthy family just to build a normal, quiet life with my fiancé, Jefferey.
We had just picked out our dream villa, but a sudden bank notification shattered my illusion.
The entire $7.8 million from our joint trust fund had been wired to a woman named Jessie Barr.
When I hacked into his synced tablet, the truth hit me like a truck. Jessie wasn't just a stranger; she was his secret lover.
They even had a four-year-old son who shared Jefferey's exact eyes.
"The money is in your account. Our future is secure now. I'll leave her soon."
Reading his messages to her, I realized my three years of devotion were nothing but a long con.
I was just the final "project" he needed to fund his real family.
He used my resources, my connections, and my money to build a life in the shadows with his true love, treating me like a naive piggy bank he could discard at any moment.
I had given up my absolute power for a man who fed me nothing but lies.
But Jefferey forgot one crucial detail. I wasn't just some helpless woman he could ruin.
I calmly closed my laptop and dialed a number I hadn't called in three years.
"Mom, I was wrong. I'm ready to accept the Romero family's marriage alliance."
It was time to gut his company and take everything he owned. His Wife, The Underworld King
Ning Ruoshui For three years, I was the invisible, obedient wife of Julian Falcone, the ruthless Don of the East Coast. I secretly ran my own underground network, laundering his money to secure his throne, hoping to finally earn his love.
But he brought his childhood sweetheart, Elena, back from Europe and publicly paraded her at the syndicate gala, leaving me standing alone like a piece of furniture.
He even moved her into our master suite, letting his mother and the entire family humiliate me as a nameless civilian. I was nearly five months pregnant with his heir, but he was too busy building a fake mafia resume for his mistress to notice my suffering. He used the very funds I had cleaned for him to buy her a throne, while his capos laughed at my expense.
Lying alone on the cold operating table to abort his child, my last shred of devotion withered and died. I had labored in the dark for a man who only wanted a doll to arrange in his house while he built an empire for another woman.
"I must go arrange a divorce."
I packed my worn suitcases, left the annulment papers on his desk, and walked out of the estate. At the upcoming National Commission Summit, I will step out of the shadows as the true Boss of the W.E.N. Network, and let my husband watch his world burn. 
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