Max. A
14 Published Stories
Max. A's Books and Stories
He Healed Her Broken, Brilliant Heart
Modern For seven years, I was his secret. His brilliant, naive Elodie. Last night, he held me and called me his future.
Today, his sister, my best friend, showed me the pictures from his engagement party.
My life's work, a revolutionary bio-printed kidney, was meant to save his dying fiancée. But then I overheard his real plan. If my research failed, he had a backup.
"She's got a nice pair of kidneys," he told his friends. "Perfect match."
He'd secretly filmed our most intimate moments, blackmail to force me onto the operating table. I wasn't his love. I was his insurance policy. A spare part.
He thought he had me cornered. He underestimated his "naive little scientist."
So I faked my death and disappeared.
Five years later, I'm back, my name on the cover of every scientific journal. And he's about to find out that the woman he tried to butcher is now the one who holds his entire world in her hands. His Regret Means Nothing When You're the White Wolf
Werewolf I spent years poring over ancient medical texts, working tirelessly as an Omega healer just to prove myself worthy of my fated mate, Alpha Jaxon.
But he treated me like dirt, preferring the company of my best friend, Beta Serena.
They even made a cruel bet in the dining hall, using my sacred mate bond as a jealous joke to win a rare dessert.
The ultimate betrayal came during a critical emergency surgery.
Serena's hand trembled, dropping a silver scalpel that sliced an Elder's vein and nearly killed him.
Instead of holding her accountable, Jaxon used his Alpha Command to force me to my knees.
"How could you make such a rookie mistake? You almost killed the Elder, Chloe!"
He wasn't blind. He knew exactly what happened.
But he deliberately blamed me to protect his perfect Beta's reputation, sacrificing my hard-earned career and letting the council publicly humiliate me.
I had dedicated my entire life to soothing the beast inside him, and Serena was the loyal girl who used to defend me from bullies.
I couldn't understand how the two people I trusted most could sacrifice me without a second thought.
But as I looked at their cold, unapologetic faces, the heavy iron chain of our mate bond finally snapped deep within my chest.
I calmly handed in my resignation, rejected the Alpha, and packed my bags.
It was time to leave this toxic pack for good, and awaken the ancient White Wolf bloodline dormant in my veins. Betrayed Bride, Mafia Princess Rises
Mafia At my ten-week ultrasound, I was supposed to be celebrating the future of the Falcone family. I was Isabella Falcone, wife to the most powerful Don in the south.
But when the nurse called my name, the man who stood up beside his pregnant mistress was my husband.
In the sterile silence of that waiting room, he chose her. He later confessed he was being blackmailed by her family—a weakness that was a death sentence in our world. That night, he moved his mistress into our home, into my bedroom, and locked me away like a prisoner in the staff quarters. He wasn't imprisoning his wife; he was guarding an asset. He needed the legitimate heir I carried to save his crumbling empire.
His betrayal was absolute when his own mother and my adoptive parents arrived while he was away. They forced me to sign divorce papers, then told me they were taking me to a clinic. His mother pulled out a gun and pointed not at my head, but at my stomach.
"We're terminating this complication," she said coldly.
As they dragged me from the house, my world went dark. But through the haze, I saw a fleet of black cars blocking the gate. An army of men poured out, led by a face I had only ever seen in a photograph. Days earlier, locked in my room, I made a single phone call to the only man more powerful than my husband: my biological father, the head of the Chicago Outfit. And he had come to collect his daughter. One Night With The Cold CEO
Romance Faye spent three months of secret commissions to buy a limited-edition watch for her boyfriend's anniversary.
But when she keyed into his apartment, she found the red-soled heels she had just gifted her best friend, Penelope, kicked carelessly on the floor.
Through the crack in the bedroom door, she saw them tangled in the sheets, with her boyfriend murmuring that Faye had no idea what she was missing.
Devastated, Faye got blackout drunk and accidentally woke up in the bed of Julian Carlisle—Penelope's ruthless, billionaire stepbrother, who coldly offered her a check to buy her silence.
As if that wasn't humiliating enough, when Faye returned home, she found her own mother and brother comforting a fake-crying Penelope.
Her mother even took the diamond necklace meant for Faye's upcoming 21st birthday and fastened it around Penelope's neck to make up for Faye causing a scene.
"Faye Hayes, you will apologize to Penelope right now, or you won't get another dime from this family."
Faye stared at her mother, the betrayal freezing her blood. She was the one who had been cheated on, yet her own flesh and blood were treating her like a liability.
Why was she always the outcast, stripped of everything while her abusers played the victim?
The last frayed thread of hope for her family's love died in that instant.
Instead of apologizing, Faye walked right up to Penelope, grabbed the diamond necklace, and violently ripped it from her throat.
It was time to stop begging for affection and start burning it all down. Secret Wife is A Hero
Romance I was Asset 7, a "ghost" kept in a high-security facility with no memory and paralyzed vocal cords. My only value was my silence, making me the perfect disposable tool for the world's elite.
Everything changed when I was sold to Culver Lancaster, a media billionaire drugged with a dangerous synthetic aphrodisiac. His staff needed a woman who couldn't talk, couldn't sue, and didn't exist in any official directory.
They scrubbed my skin raw like a piece of meat and threw me into a dark penthouse with a man who had lost his mind to the drug. Culver didn't treat me like a human; he choked me against a door and used my body as a shield against his own madness. When I tried to run, his security hunted me down with dogs, and Culver threw me into a freezing wine cellar. I spent days in total darkness, starving and dehydrated, lapping dirty water off the floor just to stay alive.
I lay on that cold stone, wondering why my life had become a series of cages and scars. I couldn't even scream to let the world know I was dying. How could a man claim to protect me while treating me like a disposable object?
But when Culver finally came to the cellar to feed me, I didn't surrender. I bit him hard enough to draw blood, watching the shock in his eyes as I communicated the only way I could.
Now, I wear the silk uniform and the velvet mask he bought for me, playing the role of his obedient "Shadow." Culver thinks he owns a broken girl he can lock in a velvet panic room, but I'm a weapon who just found her target. Every kiss is a reconnaissance mission, and I'm going to burn his empire to the ground. The Unfortunate Card of Lies
Modern For ten years, I waited for my childhood sweetheart, Adonis, to marry me. But every year, our future was delayed by a ridiculous family ritual where he had to draw a "Fortunate" tarot card. For three years, he drew the "Unfortunate" card, enduring brutal penance that left him scarred and broken. I believed it was fate.
Then, on the fourth year, I saw him draw the Fortunate card. My heart soared. We were finally free. But in a swift, practiced move, he swapped it for an Unfortunate one, choosing more suffering. I was frozen in shock.
Later, I overheard him confess to his cousin. He' d been swapping the cards for four years. He couldn't marry me yet because of his assistant, Ariel. She' d threatened to do something drastic if he left her. He said he owed her.
My world shattered. Every lash he took, every moment of pain I shared, was a lie. A charade performed for another woman. He had chosen his guilt for her over his love for me.
He even accused me of monstrous cruelty based on her lies, shouting, "I can't believe I wasted ten years on someone so vindictive. Apologize to Ariel. Now."
That was the moment I knew the man I loved was gone. So, I left. I flew to Hong Kong and married another man.
But just as I found my new beginning, Adonis burst in, his eyes wild with regret, begging me to come back. And right behind him was Ariel, her face twisted with madness, a gleaming knife in her hand. Her Mute Heart, His Burning Betrayal
Modern My name is Arlie Stevens, and I was a mute girl who grew up in the shadows of the Rust Belt. My street art was our daily bread, and Bowen McClure was my protector, my first love, and my voice.
But the boy who once fought off bullies for me decided to climb the social ladder by getting engaged to a ruthless corporate heiress, Kassandra Woodard.
On their engagement night, Kassandra falsely accused me of ruining her gown. Bowen, my Bowen, publicly whipped me as punishment to appease her family.
He told me it was to protect me, a necessary evil.
Then he locked me in my room.
As the party's fireworks lit up the sky, I smelled smoke. The apartment was on fire, and the door was locked from the outside.
Through the flames, I heard Kassandra's voice, "Bowen locked her in. He wanted her out of the way."
He didn't just abandon me; he tried to burn me alive.
But I survived. And when a broken, guilt-ridden Bowen finally found me years later, begging for forgiveness after destroying the woman who orchestrated it all, I had only one thing to say to him. His Family's Poison, Her Sweet Revenge
Modern The sterile scent of a hospital clung to me, even in my own sun-drenched room.
Today was the presentation, the day my life was supposed to begin.
Instead, it ended.
Memories, sharp and brutal, flooded back: me, confidently presenting my skyscraper design.
Then, the fatal error: File Not Found.
My mother, Eleanor, fussing over my desk the night before, "accidentally" deleting everything.
My father, Richard, dismissing my tears, "Listen to your mother. She knows what's best."
My brother, Liam, smirking, "A skyscraper isn' t as important as Mom, is it?"
Later that night, Eleanor offered a thick, green smoothie.
"A special health smoothie, just for you."
I drank it, trusting her.
Minutes later, the tightening throat, the hives, the desperate fight for air.
Anaphylactic shock.
I was severely allergic to kiwi, and the smoothie was full of it.
As my vision tunneled, I saw my family.
They weren't calling 911.
They were comforting Eleanor, who sobbed into my father' s shoulder.
Liam shook his head, "She' s always so dramatic."
And then, nothing.
Until now.
Waking up here.
I saw the date on my phone.
It was Wednesday morning.
The day of the presentation.
Cold, hard clarity settled over me.
They hadn't just sabotaged my dream; they' d tried to kill me to control me.
And now, I was back.
Back to build a new blueprint.
A blueprint for their ruin. Love, Lies, and Digital Death
Sci-fi For ten years, I was Ethan Vance, the Silicon Valley "fixer," the "soul mediator" everyone trusted to clear digital ghosts and optimize karma.
Then Kevin, my girlfriend Sarah' s adopted brother, showed up with his charming lies and half-price "digital shaman" tricks, stealing my clients and my reputation bit by bit.
My downfall culminated in a botched "karma optimization" where the client died a gruesome digital death, Kevin vanished, and I was framed for his sabotage.
The mogul' s enraged family and my disgruntled former clients, convinced I was a greedy fraud, beat me to death, unable to scream the truth about Kevin' s betrayal.
But then, I opened my eyes, and I was back-standing in a luxurious smart home, the day before my life crumbled, the tech CEO handing me a data chip, Sarah and Kevin by my side; this time, things would be different. His Cold Disgust, Her Pain
Fantasy The cold moonlight painted shadows across the floor, doing nothing to warm the chill that had settled deep in my bones as I knelt before my husband, Valerius.
Just a year ago, he had promised me forever, swearing he' d always be my shield. Now, he looked at me with cold disgust.
"Explain this," he demanded, tearing open my nightgown to reveal the withered flower branded into my shoulder – a symbol of shame, a mark of the lowest.
Tears welled, blurring his furious face. I couldn' t tell him the truth, a horrific secret I' d sworn to keep to protect him.
He shoved me away, calling me soiled, then laughed cruelly, refusing to "dirty his hands" on me, before storming out, slamming the door on everything we were.
Driven by desperation, I tried to carve the mark off, nearly taking my life before my maid, Clara, stopped me, suggesting a brutal herbal remedy instead.
The agony was blinding, but I endured it, for him, for us, for the love I yearned to reclaim.
With a raw, weeping scar where the brand once was, I found him, hoping to see a flicker of the man I knew.
He stared at my wound, then laughed, a short, ugly sound. "A scar is just as ugly as a brand. It proves nothing."
My hope shattered, he delivered the final blow: he was marrying my cousin, Isabella, in a week.
The physical pain from my scar was nothing compared to the gaping wound he' d torn in my chest, leaving me an empty void. A Perfect Lie
Modern The house was eerily silent, the kind of quiet that sinks into your bones.
Ethan searched every empty room, calling her name, but only the silence echoed back.
Then he saw it on the kitchen island: a divorce agreement, her elegant signature a final, chilling statement.
He raced to all their special spots-the bookstore, the café, the park where he proposed-but she was nowhere.
Finally, he arrived at the art studio he' d built for her, a sanctuary poured out of his millions, only to find it as desolate as his heart.
Her drafting table was bare, canvases gone-everything that made it hers, vanished.
He remembered her warning, words brushed off as a lover's insecurity: "I don't tolerate betrayal. Even once, and I'll vanish completely."
He' d laughed then, sure he' d never give her cause.
But the words now echoed, a haunting judgment.
Thousands of miles away, the woman who was once Ava whispered, "From now on, there is no Ava. Only Olivia."
A news article flashed on her phone: "Real Estate Mogul Ethan and Architect Wife Ava: A Perfect Partnership."
Perfect, she scoffed, a bitter laugh in the quiet taxi.
It had all been a perfect lie, and she, the architect who built dreams, was about to meticulously dismantle his. The Barren Wife's Billion-Dollar Secret
Billionaires My husband, Mark, and I had built a life on a promise: dual incomes, no kids. For our freedom, our shared dreams, he even urged me to get a hysterectomy. I agreed, believing it cemented our bond.
Years later, he brought home two “orphans,” Kevin and Kate. They were small, dark-haired, and oddly resembled Emily White, his high school flame, now a rising exec in my own company. I played the loving mother, pouring my heart and billions into them for eighteen years.
Then, at their fake graduation party—a party for a future they weren’t remotely qualified for—Mark cornered me. With a smug grin, he demanded I sign over my entire multi-billion dollar empire to Kevin and Kate. Emily White glided over, divorce papers in hand, her voice dripping with venom: “Thank you for taking care of Mark and *my* children. It’s time for our family.”
My parents’ pleas and warnings were ignored as I signed away everything. I watched my life unravel, my legacy stolen by the people I cherished most. The children I raised, his own blood with Emily, mocked me. As I lay bleeding on the asphalt, victims of their orchestrated “accident,” Kevin even kicked me, “Stupid old bitch.” Kate laughed, “Thanks for the money, Mom.”
Dying, the betrayal was unbearable, a sharp, cold satisfaction mixed with burning rage. Why? How could they? The injustice screamed, a silent vow forged in darkness.
Then, light. I woke up. Back at that dinner table, years ago, where Mark first uttered the word “hysterectomy.” This wasn’t a second chance. This was my turn. My eighteen-year revenge began now. The Woman He Called a Puppy
Romance Our engagement felt like a fairytale, complete with a gleaming diamond and seven years of shared history.
I believed Michael and I were building our future, hand in hand.
But at the annual gala, the illusion shattered.
Michael was on the dance floor, not with me, but intimately whispering to his intern, Jessica.
Moments later, in his car, I found a diamond necklace – not for me, as he coldly snatched it away.
“That’s not for you,” he said, his voice flat.
From then on, the disrespect spiraled.
He threw Jessica's misplaced scarf at me, denigrated my dream wedding dress, and abandoned me for her petty dramas.
My health issues were met with harsh insults and dismissed as “bad manners.”
While he flaunted Jessica online, I was expected to cater to her bizarre demands, like making special chia seed pudding for her made-up “episodes.”
Each blow chipped away at my belief.
How could the man I’d dedicated seven years to treat me with such casual cruelty?
Was I truly so disposable?
The overheard truth pierced deepest: “Love Sarah? Not really. But she’s been around like a puppy…”
No more.
The tears dried.
I cut my wedding dress into ribbons, packed my bags, and left him a note: “We’re done.”
He could chase, she could scheme, but my patience was exhausted.
My life, finally, was mine again. 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." Wild Heiress, Tamed Billionaire
王舒 When I called my husband while trapped in a kidnapper's warehouse, he laughed. "Stop faking," he said, "my delicate mistress needs her sleep." He hung up. I signed the divorce papers drenched in my own blood, giving up everything just to escape the monster I married.
His mother threw a broken umbrella at me in the rain. I had nothing-no money, no identity, no hope.
But the moment I turned away, eight black Escalades encircled the street. A man in a tailored suit stepped out of a Rolls-Royce, shielding me with an umbrella. In his hand was a DNA test-and twenty-three years of relentless search.
"Your last name isn't Smith," he said, wiping blood from my wrist with his handkerchief. "It's Wilder. The Wilder family. And the man who left you to die?" He smiled, icy. "He owes us nine billion dollars." 
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