Maui

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Maui's Book and Story

The Vindictive Wife Comes Back

The Vindictive Wife Comes Back

5.0

After I was diagnosed with infertility, my husband insisted on divorcing me, but Makenna stopped him. She said: "You can't lose out on the wedding gifts you spent to marry her; why not sell her and recoup some of your investment?" So, Makenna sold me off into the mountains, where I endured humiliation and was tortured to death. When I opened my eyes again, I found that I had returned to the time before I was trafficked. In this new life, I would no longer tolerate it; instead, I sold Makenna out.

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A Wife's Bitter Reckoning

A Wife's Bitter Reckoning

5.0

My husband, Bennett, and I were New York's golden couple. But our perfect marriage was a lie, childless because of a rare genetic condition he claimed would kill any woman who carried his baby. When his dying father demanded an heir, Bennett proposed a solution: a surrogate. The woman he chose, Aria, was a younger, more vibrant version of me. Suddenly, Bennett was always busy, supporting her through "difficult IVF cycles." He missed my birthday. He forgot our anniversary. I tried to believe him, until I overheard him at a party. He confessed to his friends that his love for me was a "deep connection," but with Aria, it was "fire" and "exhilarating." He was planning a secret wedding with her in Lake Como, at the same villa he'd promised me for our anniversary. He was giving her a wedding, a family, a life—all the things he denied me, using a lie about a deadly genetic condition as his excuse. The betrayal was so complete it felt like a physical shock. When he came home that night, lying about a business trip, I smiled and played the part of the loving wife. He didn't know I'd heard everything. He didn't know that while he was planning his new life, I was already planning my escape. And he certainly didn't know I had just made a call to a service that specialized in one thing: making people disappear.

His Betrayal, My Erased Memory

His Betrayal, My Erased Memory

5.0

Four years after my son Leo drowned, I was still lost in a fog of grief. My husband, Eli Stark, the tech mogul, was the public' s saint, a devoted father who built a foundation in Leo' s name. But when I went to finalize Leo' s death certificate, a clerk' s casual comment shattered my world: "Mr. Stark has another dependent child listed." The name hit me like a physical blow: Cody Sharpe, son of Kasey Sharpe, the woman who had stalked Eli for years. I found them, a perfect family, Eli laughing, a happiness I hadn't seen in years. Then, I overheard Kasey confessing to Eli that his affair with her was why he wasn't watching Leo the day he died. My world crumbled. For four years, I had carried the guilt, believing Leo' s death was a tragic accident, comforting Eli who blamed himself for a "work call." It was all a lie. His betrayal had killed our son. The man I loved, the man who had built a prison of grief around me, was living a happy life with another family. He had watched me suffer, letting me blame myself, while his secret festered. How could he? How could he stand there and lie, knowing his actions led to our son' s death? The injustice burned, a cold, sharp rage replacing my grief. I called my lawyer, then my former mentor, Casey Long, whose experimental memory erasure research was my only hope. "I want to forget," I whispered, "I need to forget everything. Erase him for me."

The Price of Unrequited Love

The Price of Unrequited Love

4.6

Eighteen days after giving up on Brendan Maynard, Jayde Rosario cut off her waist-length hair and called her father, announcing her decision to move to California and attend UC Berkeley. Her father, surprised, asked about the sudden change, reminding her how she' d always insisted on staying with Brendan. Jayde forced a laugh, revealing the painful truth: Brendan was getting married, and she, his stepsister, could no longer cling to him. That night, she tried to tell Brendan about her college acceptance, but his fiancée, Chloie Ellis, interrupted with a bubbly call, and Brendan' s tender words to Chloie twisted a knife in Jayde' s heart. She remembered how his tenderness used to be hers alone, how he had protected her, and how she had poured out her heart to him in a diary and a love letter, only for him to explode, tearing the letter and yelling, "I'm your brother!" He had stormed out, leaving her to painstakingly tape the shredded pieces back together. Her love, however, didn't die, not even when he brought Chloie home and told her to call her "sister-in-law." Now, she understood. She had to put that fire out herself. She had to dig Brendan out of her heart.

The Truth About His Mistress

The Truth About His Mistress

4.7

I was four months pregnant, a photographer excited for our future, attending a sophisticated baby brunch. Then I saw him, my husband Michael, with another woman, and a newborn introduced as "his son." My world shattered as a torrent of betrayal washed over me, magnified by Michael's dismissive claim I was "just being emotional." His mistress, Serena, taunted me, revealing Michael had discussed my pregnancy complications with her, then slapped me, causing a terrifying cramp. Michael sided with her, publicly shaming me, demanding I leave "their" party, as a society blog already paraded them as a "picture-perfect family." He fully expected me to return, to accept his double life, telling his friends I was "dramatic" but would "always come back." The audacity, the calculated cruelty of his deception, and Serena's chilling malice, fueled a cold, hard rage I barely recognized. How could I have been so blind, so trusting of the man who gaslighted me for months while building a second family? But on the plush carpet of that lawyer's office, as he turned his back on me, a new, unbreakable resolve solidified. They thought I was broken, disposable, easily manipulated – a "reasonable" wife who would accept a sham separation. They had no idea my calm acceptance was not surrender; it was strategy, a quiet promise to dismantle everything he held dear. I would not be handled; I would not understand; I would end this, and make sure their perfect family charade crumbled into dust.

My Husband's Secret Divorce

My Husband's Secret Divorce

5.0

The fluorescent hum of the DMV was the soundtrack to my boring life, until I tried to replace my lost driver's license. "Your marital status. It says you're divorced," the clerk said, shattering my five-year marriage to Jackson Parks with a single, flat sentence. My husband, Jackson, the man who swore he loved me, had secretly divorced me three years ago. Not only that, he had remarried the very next day to Candida Camacho, the woman who had tried to murder me on my wedding day and left me infertile. And they had a two-year-old son, Joey. I stumbled home, my world a blur, only to find Jackson and Candida in our living room, arguing. "I hate having to pretend for that pathetic woman!" Candida shrieked. Jackson, my husband, pleaded, "I love you. I've always loved you." The man I sacrificed everything for, who swore to destroy her, was now playing house with my attempted murderer, and I was the fool living in his house, sleeping in his bed, believing his lies. The pain in my abdomen, a phantom ache from five years ago, flared to life, mirroring the gaping wound in my soul. I would not be his victim anymore. "Hamilton," I said into the phone, my voice clear and steady. "I need your help. I need you to help me die."

Love, Lies, and a Vasectomy

Love, Lies, and a Vasectomy

5.0

At eight months pregnant, I thought my husband Derek and I had it all. A perfect home, a loving marriage, and our miracle son on the way. Then, while tidying his office, I found his vasectomy certificate. It was dated a year ago, long before we even started trying. Confused and panicked, I rushed to his office, only to hear laughter from behind the door. It was Derek and his best friend, Edison. "I can't believe she still hasn't figured it out," Edison chuckled. "She walks around with that giant belly, glowing like some kind of saint." My husband's voice, the one that whispered words of love to me every night, was full of contempt. "Patience, my friend. The bigger she gets, the bigger the fall. And the bigger my payout." He said our entire marriage was a cruel game to destroy me, all for his precious adopted sister, Else. They were even running a bet on who the real father was. "So, the bet is still on?" Edison asked. "My money's still on me." My baby was a trophy in their sick contest. The world tilted on its axis. The love I felt, the family I was building—it was all a sham. In that moment, a cold, clear decision formed in the ruins of my heart. I pulled out my phone, my voice surprisingly steady as I called a private clinic. "Hello," I said. "I need to schedule an appointment. For a termination."

From Temporary to Unforgettable Love

From Temporary to Unforgettable Love

5.0

My husband, Easton, dragged me to a party for his ex-girlfriend, Kelly Holland. Our five-year marriage was a sham, a contract he'd signed to spite her after she left him. I was just the placeholder wife. During a game of "Seven Minutes in Heaven," he chose Kelly. When they emerged from the powder room, her lipstick was smeared, and a fresh hickey stained her neck. Later that night, Easton and Kelly stormed into our home. He accused me of stealing her multi-million dollar diamond necklace. He didn't believe me, even when I swore I was innocent. He called the police, who conveniently found the necklace in my handbag. He looked at me with disgust. "I never should have married you," he spat. "You're nothing but trash from the slums." I was arrested based on the word of the woman who set me up. My five years of quiet love and devotion meant nothing. The man I had secretly fallen for saw me as nothing more than a common thief. I spent the night in a cold holding cell. The next morning, after being bailed out, I took the SIM card from my phone, snapped it in two, and dropped it in the trash. It was over. I would make them pay. I would burn their entire world to the ground.

To My Uncle, With Hate

To My Uncle, With Hate

5.0

For eight years, my world had orbited a single star: Liam. He was my guardian, the man my father, with his dying breath, had entrusted with my future. He was my hero. And he had made me a promise-a promise that on my twenty-second birthday, he would finally see me, not as a child, but as a woman. Today, I came to collect. But in the sticky, sweet air of the amusement park, behind a pastel-pink cotton candy stand, I found him. And I overheard the truth. This wasn't a meeting; it was a meticulously staged play of cruelty. He had rented a baby. He had asked Sienna, the woman he secretly loved, to pose as his girlfriend. His masterpiece of a plan? To construct a picture-perfect family scene designed to shatter what he called my "childish fantasy." To teach me a lesson about boundaries. His friends were laughing, calling it a brilliant, two-birds-one-stone gambit. He was weaponizing my love, using my devotion as a stage prop to woo another woman. My eight years of waiting-learning to cook his favorite meals, sacrificing a scholarship to a better life just to be near him-wasn't a testament to love. It was a burden. An annoyance to be managed with a heartless, elaborate prank. Later that night, my phone chimed. A picture of a tiny, perfect baby's foot, followed by a digital wedding invitation. The text below it was brutally simple: "I have a girlfriend now. Stop loving me." I stared at the screen, my world silent except for the frantic hammering in my chest. Then, with a calmness that frightened even me, I typed back two words. "Okay." Then I booked the first flight out of the country and threw away every last memory of him.

Five Years, One Devastating Lie

Five Years, One Devastating Lie

5.0

My husband was in the shower, the sound of water a familiar rhythm to our mornings. I was just placing a cup of coffee on his desk, a small ritual in our five years of what I thought was a perfect marriage. Then, an email notification flashed on his laptop: "You're invited to the Christening of Leo Thomas." Our last name. The sender: Hayden Cleveland, a social media influencer. An icy dread settled in. It was an invitation for his son, a son I didn't know existed. I went to the church, hidden in the shadows, and saw him holding a baby, a little boy with his dark hair and eyes. Hayden Cleveland, the mother, leaned on his shoulder, a picture of domestic bliss. They looked like a family. A perfect, happy family. My world crumbled. I remembered him refusing to have a baby with me, citing work pressure. All his business trips, the late nights-were they spent with them? The lie was so easy for him. How could I have been so blind? I called the Zurich Architectural Fellowship, a prestigious program I had deferred for him. "I' d like to accept the fellowship," I said, my voice eerily calm. "I can leave immediately."

From Brokenness To Billionaire Bride

From Brokenness To Billionaire Bride

5.0

My father raised seven brilliant orphans to be my potential husbands. For years, I only had eyes for one of them, the cold and distant Damien Paul, believing his distance was a wall I just had to break through. That belief shattered last night when I found him in the garden, kissing his foster sister, Eve—the fragile girl my family took in at his request, the one I had treated like my own sister. But the true horror came when I overheard the other six Fellows talking in the library. They weren't competing for me. They were working together, orchestrating "accidents" and mocking my "stupid, blind" devotion to keep me away from Damien. Their loyalty wasn't to me, the heiress who held their futures in her hands. It was to Eve. I wasn't a woman to be won. I was a foolish burden to be managed. The seven men I grew up with, the men who owed my family everything, were a cult, and she was their queen. This morning, I walked into my father's study to make a decision that would burn their world to the ground. He smiled, asking if I'd finally won Damien over. "No, Dad," I said, my voice firm. "I'm marrying Hunter Beach."