Min Xiaoxi
14 Published Stories
Min Xiaoxi's Books and Stories
From Jilted Bride To Powerful Marchioness
History Adela Mays stood at the altar, gripping her white rose bouquet until the stems dug into her skin. This grand wedding to Lord Julian Blackwood was her only escape from a home where her stepmother treated her worse than a stray dog.
But the heavy oak doors didn't open for her groom. Instead, a pale steward walked down the aisle, handing the bishop a hastily torn letter. Julian had eloped with a commoner for "true love," publicly abandoning her at the altar.
The chapel instantly erupted into cruel laughter and mocking whispers. In the front row, her stepmother's eyes gleamed with triumphant satisfaction, while her furious father prepared to drag her back to a life of endless torment. Hundreds of nobles watched her become the ultimate joke, the most pathetic, discarded bride in the entire kingdom.
The humiliation felt like a thousand needles piercing her skin. To return home meant a fate worse than death, and to accept the Blackwood family's pity would make her a lifelong symbol of their shame. She refused to be a disposable pawn ruined by a coward's betrayal.
Behind her was a cliff, so she chose to step forward. She slowly lifted her own veil, her eyes as cold as a frozen lake, and locked her gaze on the groom's terrifying uncle—Marquis Broderick Blackwood, the undisputed head of the family.
"To repair the damage done to my name, my choice is you, my Lord Marquis."
The entire chapel gasped in disbelief. The abandoned bride was about to become the most powerful woman in the kingdom. The Secretary's Fake Rockstar Husband
Modern For twelve years, Cora lived in silent agony, loving her boss Bennett Hodges while serving as his perfect, invisible secretary.
But after one night of drunken despair, she woke up in a stranger's penthouse. The man, an indie musician named Callum, showed her viral paparazzi photos of her ripping his shirt off and demanded a fake marriage to save his career.
Cora immediately agreed, desperately needing a legal shield. Bennett had just ordered her to attend a gala as the personal date of a billionaire known for sending women to the ER. When Cora refused and showed Bennett her marriage certificate, he thought it was a pathetic bluff. To force her submission, Bennett froze her entire savings, permanently denied her hard-earned department transfer, and watched with a smug smile as his sister humiliated Cora for being the "maid's daughter." He wanted to completely destroy her life until she crawled back begging.
Looking at her ruined design portfolio scattered on the floor, Cora felt her heart turn to ice. She had dedicated her entire youth to a man who saw her as nothing more than a piece of furniture that knew its place. How could she have blindly loved such a cruel, controlling monster for so long?
The violent shaking in her hands stopped, replaced by a terrifying calm.
"I have documented every single abusive directive from this office."
She flashed the massive diamond her new fake husband had given her, threatened to burn Bennett's pristine reputation to the ground, and finally walked away. Service Was Mediocre: Reviewing My Billionaire Lover
Billionaires I woke up in a luxury penthouse with a blinding headache and bruises on my thighs, staring at the man who was about to ruin my life. Cullen Hunter, the most dangerous billionaire in Los Angeles, was stepping out of the shower, ready to discard me with a signed check and a cold look of disdain.
Then the memories hit me like a physical blow. I realized I had woken up in the "Death Flag" scene of a script—this was the exact morning Avery Hall was supposed to be kicked out, humiliated, and started her downward spiral into a tragic death.
The nightmare escalated within minutes. My own brother, Ernest, called to tell me I was no longer a member of the family, freezing my trust fund and evicting me from my apartment. He believed the lies of our "perfect" adopted sister, Cheslie, who had leaked her own private photos and framed me for it just to gain sympathy. Even my fiancé, Preston, couldn't wait to dump me in public, calling me a "crazy bitch" before running straight into Cheslie’s waiting arms.
I was suddenly homeless, bankrupt, and the most hated woman in the city. My family wanted me to crawl back and apologize on my knees for a crime I didn't commit, while the man I had just spent the night with watched my destruction with boredom.
I didn't understand how they could all turn on me so fast, or how I was expected to survive in a world where the script was literally written for my failure.
"Avery, don't make this difficult," Cullen warned, waiting for the tears he thought were coming.
But I refused to play the victim. I pulled three hundred dollars of my last bits of cash, slapped them onto Cullen’s nightstand, and told him the service was mediocre. I wasn't going to beg for love or mercy anymore; I was going to rewrite the ending of this story and become the most dangerous femme fatale Hollywood had ever seen. The Savior He Rejected For Her Evil Sister
Werewolf For years, I was nothing but a biological spare part for my sister, Isabella. My bone marrow kept her vibrant while I withered in the attic.
I thought my mate, Alpha Dante, would eventually see me. I was the one who saved him from the blizzard years ago, not her.
But when a neon sign crashed down outside the jazz club, Dante didn't look at me.
He tackled Isabella, shielding her pristine body, while I was crushed beneath burning silver-plated metal.
I woke up in agony, only to find Isabella accusing me of trying to kill her.
Dante didn't smell the lies. He only saw his "traumatized" fiancée.
"Fifty lashes," he ordered, his eyes cold. "Use the Wolfsbane whip."
I hung from the dungeon ceiling, the poison searing my bones, watching the man I loved cover Isabella's eyes to spare her the sight of my blood.
The final straw came during a car crash days later. Trapped and bleeding internally, I begged for his help.
He looked at the fire licking my legs, then at Isabella's scratched arm. He picked her up and walked away, leaving me to burn.
That night, the bond in my heart died.
I didn't beg anymore. I left a single cassette tape on his desk—the recording of me singing to him in that blizzard—and vanished.
By the time he realized he had tortured his true savior, I was already gone. Leaving The Billionaire Who Loved His Ex
Modern My father was dying on a hospital bed, and I was frantically calling my husband, Ethan.
He didn't answer. Later, he claimed his battery had died while he was on a crucial business trip.
But a photo sent by my best friend revealed the sickening truth. Ethan wasn't working. He was in a London café, looking at Olivia—the ex-girlfriend he swore he hadn't seen in five years—with pure desperation and love.
His phone was sitting right there on the table between them, face up and fully charged.
I swallowed the betrayal and played the perfect, grieving wife when he returned. But then I found the locked drawer in his study.
Inside wasn't just a shrine of photos of her; it was a journal. The ink was barely dry on the latest entry.
"I pray the child has Olivia's eyes. If it looks like her, I can pretend I didn't settle for the safe, boring option. Ava is a good placeholder, but she isn't Her."
He didn't want a family with me. He wanted to use my body to recreate a ghost of the woman he actually loved. He planned to turn our unborn child into a prop for his twisted obsession.
I wiped my tears. The next morning, I handed him a stack of documents to sign, hiding the divorce papers in the middle.
Then, while he was busy texting her under the table, I walked into a clinic to remove the only thing binding us together.
He thinks he is the mastermind. He has no idea he has already lost the game. Beyond the River's Edge
Modern The last thing I remembered was the freezing water closing over my head, Brittany' s triumphant smile the final image in my mind.
Then, a gasp. I shot up, coughing, not in the dark river, but in my bed, sunlight streaming through the window.
Had it all been a nightmare? The public shaming, getting fired, the whispers, the utter despair that drove me to that river' s edge?
A self-satisfied hum from the living room shattered the illusion. Brittany.
My heart hammered. This wasn' t a nightmare. It was a second chance.
Memories flooded back: my sweet, bubbly roommate turning into a viper. She started using my online identity, my photos, twisting them into something sordid.
When I confronted her, she just laughed, "Chloe, don' t be such a prude. They love it. It' s just a bit of fun."
I went to HR, but she got there first, twisting the story, painting me as a jealous, unstable friend. They believed her.
The photos became more explicit, sent from my work email. I was publicly humiliated, labeled an exhibitionist. My boss couldn' t look me in the eye.
The company fired me to "protect its image." My career, everything I' d worked for, was gone.
Brittany thrived. She took my job, my desk, my life. She stood on the ashes of my career and pretended she was a hero.
The final blow was the public scandal that nearly cost me my life. And then, it did.
As the current pulled me under, she had won. But now I was back.
The girl who died in that river took all my innocence with her. What was left was a cold, burning desire for revenge.
And as I lay there, listening to the clicks of her camera, I knew exactly how I was going to get it. Nine Divorces, One Last Stand
Romance Five years. Nine court dates. One thousand eight hundred and twenty-five days of a marriage on trial.
Today, my husband, Mark Thompson, filed for divorce for the ninth time.
As if his infidelity with Sarah Miller wasn' t enough, he stood in court, tears in his mistress' s eyes, dramatically presenting a positive pregnancy test and declared, "It's time for Chloe to let me go."
But I had proof. A grainy surveillance video from our living room, showing Mark, drunk, begging me not to leave, then savagely biting my earlobe in a desperate, animalistic act of possession.
The judge, clearly fed up with Mark' s theatrics, denied the petition. Mark, enraged, swore he' d keep fighting until I was out of his life for good.
His words rang true just three nights later. I was poisoned at a dinner, doubling over in searing pain, gasping for air.
Mark found me clutching my stomach, but instead of helping, he dismissed my agony, saying, "Stop faking it, Chloe. You' re just drunk."
Then he drove away, leaving me to bleed on the dark street, his chilling threat echoing in the night: "Just obey, or I' ll file for divorce again at the next hearing. I' ll make sure it' s the tenth and final one."
As his taillights vanished, a profound stillness settled over me. This wasn't just a physical wound; it was a soul-deep laceration, cauterized by his indifference.
Lying there, alone and abandoned, a decision formed in my mind, crystal clear and devoid of emotion.
I was done. His Final, Silent Gift
Romance Five years ago, I secretly donated my kidney to save my fiancée, Chloe.
I faked a scandalous breakup, making her believe I was a gold-digging traitor, so she wouldn't feel the burden of my sacrifice.
Now, my remaining kidney is failing, leaving me with only months to live, while she thrives as a tech CEO.
When our paths cross, she publicly humiliates me, treating me like dirt, and her new fiancé, Liam, brutally beats and frames me, systematiclly destroying my life.
I' m dying, slandered as a monstrous gold-digger, yet I still choose to protect the woman I secretly saved, even while she unknowingly destroys what little life I have left.
But when my best friend, Sarah, finally screams the truth, and Liam' s twisted confessions fully unravel, Chloe begins to see it all-the lies, the sacrifice, the undying love that led to my tragic demise. Will her agonizing realization come too late, or can she salvage a love story stained by an ultimate act of selfless devotion and enduring bitterness? The Price of Her Fame
Romance For seven years, I poured every ounce of my being-my savings, my career, my very essence-into Olivia Reed' s music career. I was the silent force behind her rise, the architect of her dream, believing her success was ours.
Then, at her album launch, the night she finally made it, she publicly declared her producer, Liam Hayes, her "soulmate" and kissed him passionately on stage.
My world shattered. When I confronted her, she dismissed me like a discarded tool, coldly telling me I was just a placeholder until Liam was ready. The humiliation was unbearable, amplified by the smug triumph in Liam' s eyes.
But the real shock came later: Olivia and Liam had a five-year-old son, a child they' d hidden from the world. And the chilling realization? Olivia had secretly taken my DNA, just to confirm the child wasn' t mine, fearing a "paternity scandal" would damage her brand.
What was I to her? A bank account? A convenient fool? The man who paid for her secret family, while she laughed behind my back? The betrayal cut deeper than any heartbreak.
No longer the naive architect, I decided then and there: Olivia Reed had built her empire on lies and my sacrifice. It was time to tear it all down. The Blinded Wife's Sweet Revenge
Romance The day I found out I was pregnant was the same day I lost my sight.
I woke up in a hospital, my world plunged into impenetrable darkness, but my fiancé, Ethan, was there, his hand in mine, murmuring reassurances.
Then, through the fog of pain, I heard another conversation - Ethan, whispering to the doctor.
He wasn't comforting me; he was ordering my future: a hysterectomy to ensure I couldn't have children, blaming it on the attack, all so he could bring his secret son with his old flame, Maria, into our home.
The man I loved, the one I' d selflessly saved years ago by arranging Maria' s bone marrow donation for his life-altering surgery, was systematically destroying mine to make way for his real family.
He' d taken my eyesight, my child, and my future, portraying me as a tragic victim while meticulously crafting a public narrative of his devotion.
He thought he had rendered me helpless, a blind, barren woman to pity and control, even bringing Maria and his son, Leo, to me under the guise of an adoption agency visit.
Maria, the very woman I had tracked down and compelled to save Ethan, relished in taunting me about my own secret act of heroism, twisting it into a weapon to reveal his ultimate betrayal.
But in the profound darkness he cast upon me, an icy clarity emerged, hardening my sorrow into something far more dangerous than despair: a meticulous plan for revenge.
He thought he was leading a lamb to the slaughter; he had no idea he was stepping into a trap of my own design, and I would burn his world to the ground. The Day I Was Reborn
Modern On the day my son died, I was reborn.
The morning light of Chicago streamed through the blinds, just like before, a painful echo of a day I never wanted to live again.
My son, Leo, was supposed to have his scholarship interview at Northwestern today, a full ride, his entire future.
In my previous life, that future ended with the sound of his body hitting the pavement.
Then they came for me.
My husband, Mark, told the cameras I was a monster, a controlling mother who drove her son to suicide.
My best friend, Chloe, Leo' s godmother, provided the proof, a doctored video of me ranting, shoving papers, painting me as crazed.
The police found "abusive" scratches on Leo's arm matching a gardening accident on my hands.
My career, my name, my entire life were destroyed by their fabricated narrative.
I ended it all in a cold, empty apartment, the media' s condemnation a constant ringing in my ears.
To my dying breath, I couldn't comprehend the depth of their betrayal, swallowed by an unjust accusation from the people I loved most.
But now, I was back, sitting up in bed, my heart a steady, cold drum.
Everything was the same, except for me.
This time, I wouldn't just survive; I would expose every single one of their monstrous lies. The Fiancée Who Died Twice
Romance The typical bright Texas morning was promising, another day of booming business for Hayes Corp, my family's oil and real estate empire.
My assistant's tight voice cut through the calm: "Mr. Hayes, there's... news. About Ms. Moreau."
Isabelle "Izzy" Moreau, my fiancée, was supposedly lost at sea in a tragic boating accident off the coast of Maine.
In my previous life, that phone call had shattered my world; I spent fifty years as a hollow shell, honoring her memory while her supposed grieving friends drained my company with their sob stories.
But then, at eighty, frail and tired, I found her alive and thriving at our "special place" in the Caribbean, dripping in jewels, laughing on the arm of Liam Vance, my former head of security.
Their children, their grandchildren, a grotesque dynasty built on my stolen life and stolen fortune.
The sheer, monumental betrayal stopped my heart, killing me on the spot.
Then I jolted awake, here, now, back on this exact Tuesday morning, the sun shining, the phone poised to deliver the same lie.
Only this time, the news didn't devastate me; it filled me with a cold, clear resolve.
I already knew. I had lived this day before, and I was reborn with a singular purpose.
The game was officially on, and this time, I would win. You might like
The Unwanted Duchess Claims Her Throne
Marmaduke Ryder I was the legitimate daughter of a Duke, exiled for years and finally forced into a political marriage to save my family's declining status.
But on my wedding night, I woke up paralyzed on the cold stone floor, only to find my new husband entangled in my marital bed with my malicious half-sister.
It was a carefully staged humiliation. My sister mocked me from the tangled sheets, while my husband looked down at me with utter boredom and disgust.
Worse yet, the suffocating incense filling the room was a potent aphrodisiac—a "wedding gift" supplied by my own biological father to break my will and ensure I became a submissive pawn.
The original owner of this body died of heartbreak right then and there, suffocated by a lifetime of being treated like worthless garbage by her own blood.
She didn't understand why her family hated her so much, or why they would conspire to destroy her dignity on the very night she was supposed to become a Duchess.
But the timid girl who would have cried and begged was gone. Opening my eyes, the soul of a top-tier modern operative took over.
I didn't shed a single tear.
Instead, I pulled a six-inch steel hairpin from my hair, pressed the wickedly sharp point directly against my new husband's throat, and smiled.
"I am the ghost who has come to collect your debts." Reborn as the Nightingale: Escaping the Duke's Poisoned Marriage
Xin Miaomiao I died with the taste of bitter almonds burning in my throat.
My husband, Kian Ferguson, watched me collapse over the poisoned wine. He did not call for help. He did not kneel beside me. He only looked at me with cold, satisfied eyes, as if my death had finally made room for the woman he truly wanted—his delicate cousin, Isabelle.
In my first life, I begged for his love.
I endured his family's humiliation. I drank the bitter tonics they forced upon me in the name of fertility, even as my body grew weaker by the day. I was blamed for an empty nursery, mocked as a barren wife, and trapped in a marriage that was slowly killing me.
Then I opened my eyes again.
I was back five years in the past, riding beside Kian at the King's autumn hunt—the very day I first saw how he looked at Isabelle.
This time, I did not weep. I did not fight for him.
I returned to Blackwood Manor and asked for an annulment.
Kian laughed in my face.
"You want to leave?" he said, seizing my arms. "There are only two ways out of this marriage, Adeline. In a coffin, or with my permission. And I will grant you neither."
I went to the King for justice.
The Crown turned me away.
They all believed I had nowhere left to run. A discarded wife. A useless vine. A woman with no power, no allies, and no future beyond the Duke's gilded cage.
They were wrong.
I sold my dowry in secret. I bought merchant ships under a hidden name. I gathered remedies, debts, secrets, and gold.
If no one would grant me freedom, I would purchase it myself.
If no one would give me justice, I would become powerful enough to demand it.
And by the time Kian Ferguson realizes his unwanted wife has become the mysterious Nightingale, it will be far too late to cage me again. Reborn: Marrying The Cold Disabled Marquis
White P In our past life, I was chosen for the royal court, ascending to the throne as Queen, only to discover I was merely a shield for the King's true love, eventually dying by a poisoned chalice. Meanwhile, my half-sister married the powerful Marquis of Blackwood. But when he was crippled in an accident, she vented her bitter regret by abusing his adopted sons, ultimately being cast out and becoming the laughingstock of high society.
When we both opened our eyes and returned to the morning our fates were decided, my sister lunged forward and desperately snatched the royal selection brooch from my hands.
"The supreme glory of the court belongs to me this time!" she sneered.
I lowered my head to hide a cold smile. Go ahead, sister. Take that golden death warrant.
Without hesitation, I picked up the remaining marriage proposal and chose Lord Dylan Lucas, the ruthless and fearsome Marquis of the North.
On our wedding night, my new husband looked at me with eyes like winter frost. "I will not offer you my affection, my companionship, or my bed," he declared coldly. "You are merely here to be a nominal mother to my three adopted sons."
"I understand, my lord," I replied meekly, secretly thrilled. A loveless marriage with wealth, power, and adorable children? It was the perfect retirement plan for a woman who had barely survived a palace bloodbath.
I played my part perfectly. I used my hidden medical skills to heal his frail youngest son, effortlessly outmaneuvered his hostile relatives, and brought life back to his gloomy estate. I asked for nothing but peace.
But I miscalculated one thing.
The "cold and ruthless" Marquis wasn't supposed to watch me from the shadows with darkening, possessive eyes. He wasn't supposed to investigate my past. And he certainly wasn't supposed to shatter his own rules.
"You've conquered my household and my sons, Gabriella," he whispered one night, cornering me in the study, his stormy grey eyes pinning me in place. "Tell me... when do you plan to conquer me?" The Vengeful Goddess Returns
Ola Wilde After being harmed, my soul left my body, and I discovered the truth that my whole family wanted to harm me. So I started to fight back.
I began to teach my younger brother, distance myself from my fiancé, take control of the family business, and audit my mother's dowry shop. I forced my stepmother and father to make up for the embezzled money, and then set a trap to catch my stepsister Nora and fiancé Max in the act of adultery, spreading the scandal throughout Eighphia.
After seeking treatment from a renowned doctor, my health gradually improved. I exposed my stepmother's actions against me, sought revenge, and gradually revealed the truth that it was my own good father who was behind the harm to me and my mother.
Through confrontation and covert investigation, I gathered evidence and uncovered a secret that was enough to destroy my father's entire family...
I avenged myself and my mother, and also found a fulfilling marriage. Eight-year-old Princess: Phoenix Reborn
LARA MORRISON Is it possible for an eight-year-old girl to bear the memory of her previous life? What will you do if one day, after waking up in bed, you find yourself eight again and you are reminded of all the pain and humiliations you have suffered at the hands of those you once deemed close?
In her previous life, the royal princess, Yun Shang, was traumatized both mentally, and physically. She was a wife betrayed by her husband, a mother who had witnessed the tragic death of her only child, and a sister who had experienced the cruelty of her royal elder sister. Now back to the age of eight, knowing what she knows about those people, how will she avenge herself? See for yourself! The Voice of Azzam
Fola_adesina
A story of love, betrayal, and power within the gilded walls of Azzam Palace
In the glittering city of Azzam, where loyalty is a weapon and silence a shield, newly crowned King Kamil stands at the edge of power - young, brilliant, and haunted by the weight of a kingdom that watches his every move.
Milan, a lowly palace maid with a quiet spirit and melodious voice accidentally crosses paths with him, neither expects the spark that follows - a forbidden connection born in the shadow of the throne. But love in Azzam is never easy.
As enemies close in - Bashi- the scheming uncle, and Jodha, the ambitious princess who is just a pawn in Mirian (kamil step sister)'s hand, the palace becomes a battlefield of whispers and deceit. And when Milan is accused of a crime that could destroy her, Kamil must decide whether to follow his duty... or his heart.
In a world where every smile hides a secret, and every act of mercy could cost a crown, one truth remains - even kings can fall in love, and even love can start a war. A war that is fueled by an unhealthy obsession
The Cursed Regent's Fearless Substitute Bride
Rutledge Shepp I woke up in a strange body, only to find myself being violently laced into a blood-red wedding dress.
The Ashford family had finally remembered their abandoned daughter, but only to use me as a disposable substitute.
They were forcing me to marry the terrifying Prince Regent in place of their precious darling, Seraphina.
The Prince was rumored to be a cursed, crippled monster who had already outlived three dead brides.
Everyone knew this wasn't a wedding; it was a brutal death sentence.
When I confronted my "father," he coldly told me it was my duty to sacrifice my life so his real daughter could marry the Crown Prince.
They thought I was just a weak, useless pawn they could ship off like cattle.
They expected me to cry, beg, and accept my tragic fate.
But I wasn't that timid girl anymore. I smiled at my so-called father and held out two fingers.
"Alright, I'll marry him."
I watched their faces pale as my smile widened.
"But not for free. Two hundred thousand gold lions."
After extorting my own family, I took the carriage to the Prince's castle, where they tried to humiliate me by making me enter through a tiny servant's door.
Instead of submitting, I walked over to a thousand-pound marble gargoyle statue by the main entrance.
I ripped off my veil, lifted the massive stone beast with my bare hands, and smashed the heavy iron gates to splinters.
"Go tell your master his bride has arrived."
I let the words sink into the dead silence.
"And if he doesn't open this gate, I will tear it down myself." Loving Willow
LadyRosabella Willow, daughter of Zane and River, has had a crush on her best friend since she was ten years old. Her overprotective family members and friends are worried that he'll break her heart. Meanwhile, however, an evil is brewing that may change every thing Willow thought she knew. Will she have the strength to over come it or will it break the cheerful girl. Will Trent, son of Micah and Lily, ever act on his desires for his best friend or will he allow insecurities to rule over his life.
Join Zane, River, Micah, Lily, Rhett, Lacey, Vance and Grace as well as their many children in the third book of the Loving series.
1. Loving River
2. Loving Lily
3. The Ranger's Daughter
4. Loving Willow
This is a clean historical romance that will have an HEA
Happy Reading! 
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