Mu Hui Xin
16 Published Stories
Mu Hui Xin's Books and Stories
Burning Down His World Of Lies
Modern My husband, Dax, was cold and distant, obsessed with his ex-girlfriend, Frida. His neglect cost me our first child. Then, Frida' s schemes cost me my dream job.
When I became pregnant again, Dax abandoned me while I was in agony to rush to Frida's side for a minor scratch. This time, I didn't just lose the baby-I almost died.
He never even visited me in the hospital. Instead, he was photographed comforting Frida, his "one true love."
His mother finally revealed the truth: Dax's loyalty stemmed from a twisted childhood memory. He believed he had saved Frida from a traumatic event, a debt he felt he owed her for life.
But as I lay broken, a memory of my own surfaced. A dark warehouse. A kind boy who saved me. A promise whispered. It wasn't Dax. His entire devotion to Frida was built on a lie.
Now, he stands on my doorstep in Argentina, begging for a second chance after I've filed for divorce. He doesn't know that I know his secret. And I'm about to burn his world to the ground. His Sacred Promise, My Stolen Dreams
Modern My fiancé, Ethan, insisted we use our life savings-the money for our dream architectural firm-to buy a house for his widowed friend, Kiera. He called it a sacred promise. I called it betrayal.
After weeks of fighting, I discovered the truth. He hadn't been asking for my permission; he had already emptied our joint account two months ago.
A photo confirmed it: him and Kiera, toasting with champagne, celebrating the day he stole our future. He then had the nerve to ask me to design her new house for free.
When I finally confronted him, he chose to believe her fake pregnancy and her staged fall, calling me a "monster" as he rushed her to the hospital.
He didn't just take our money; he stole my voice and painted me as the villain in his story.
So while he played the hero for her, I quietly canceled our wedding, sold our assets, and booked a one-way ticket to a new life. He thought he was breaking me, but he was setting me free. The Disgraced Teacher's Ruthless Return
Modern Ten years ago, Cameron Vinson destroyed my Wall Street career to build his empire, leaving me a disgraced schoolteacher. Now, he was back, paying for my father' s life-saving surgery to play the benevolent hero. But his fiancée, jealous of his attention, decided to reveal the truth to my father on his deathbed, killing him instantly with the shock.
"Emilia, look what you've done! You're hysterical!"
Cameron shouted, shoving me away from my father's cooling body while comforting the woman who had just murdered him.
Hailee had shown my father a video proving we were both framed, just to watch the light leave his eyes.
Yet, Cameron stood there protecting her, gaslighting me into believing I was the crazy one.
They thought I was still the helpless victim they could manipulate.
They thought my father' s death was just another loose end tied up.
But as the heart monitor flatlined, my phone buzzed with a message from a ghost of our shared past.
"I have enough evidence to bury Cameron Vinson. Do you need help?"
I looked at the monsters preening over my father's corpse.
I wiped my tears and typed back a single word: "Yes."
The time for grief was over. The time for a hostile takeover had begun. The Billionaire's Fake Wife, My Revenge
Romance After three years abroad, I came home to surprise my secret husband, tech billionaire Gilbert Davis. He was finally CEO of his family's empire, and I believed our life together was about to begin.
The surprise was on me. The first thing I learned wasn't from him, but from the breaking news alerts: Gilbert was engaged to an influencer named Hayden Torres, his supposed long-lost love.
The world shattered when I saw her picture. She had my face. Then the truth unraveled, each piece more horrific than the last. Hayden was my half-sister. Our three-year marriage was a forged document, a cruel play he staged because I was a convenient substitute for the woman he was actually married to the entire time.
He wasn't just a liar; he was a monster. He lured me to a hospital under the pretense of care, only to reveal his true plan: to force me into a tissue transplant to save Hayden's life.
But as I lay in that hospital bed, a prisoner waiting to be harvested, I recorded a conversation that turned my grief into rage. They hadn't just stolen my husband and my future-they had murdered my mother.
They thought I was a victim they could discard. They were about to find out I was the architect of their ruin. Revenge Is Sweet, Love Is Sweeter
Romance My husband, Emit Arnold, only touches me when he's too drunk to remember he hates my guts. For three years, he's blamed me for the death of his true love, Everleigh.
Yesterday, he brought a woman home who had plastic surgery to look exactly like her.
Then my own twin children stood before me and told me to get out.
"Daddy brought our new mommy home," they said. "You have to leave now."
The woman, my adoptive sister Gigi, then deliberately cut her own leg with a knife and blamed me for it.
When Emit saw her bleeding, he didn't hesitate. He shoved me to the floor.
Later, his sister Isadora slapped me, her eyes burning with hate. "I'm the one who told everyone you killed Everleigh," she hissed. "And I'll keep telling them."
My children, my husband, my in-laws—they all chose the woman wearing a dead person's face over me. The love I had held onto for so long was finally gone.
That night, he cornered me in my room, ripped the dress from my body, and called me filthy.
He thought I would break.
Instead, I walked back into the living room, picked up the divorce papers I had already prepared, and threw them right in his face. From Pawn to CEO Queen
Romance The phone rang, splitting the quiet of my father's funeral home. It was Mark, my boyfriend of three years, who was supposed to be here holding my hand.
"Ava," he rushed, "I can't make it. Chloe's having another panic attack."
The air in my lungs turned to ice. Chloe Davis, a friend of a friend, always "fragile," always needing Mark. My voice broke as I whispered, "Mark, I have no one right now but you." He called me strong, an excuse to abandon me at my weakest.
Later that night, he finally came home, exhausted from comforting Chloe. He looked at me with cold eyes. "About the house your father left you... Chloe's landlord is kicking her out." He suggested I sign my father's house, the only thing I had left, over to her.
A hollow ache fractured into cruel betrayal. He wasn't just abandoning me; he was trying to erase me. I stood there, speechless, the System's quiet hum in my mind confirming my utter heartbreak.
"I'm done," I said, my voice quiet but firm. "I want a divorce." He scoffed, stepping aside as my mother stormed in, slapping me and accusing me of being selfish, jealous of "poor Chloe." Then, Chloe walked in, clinging to Mark, whispering apologies, playing the blameless victim. My mother cooed over her, bringing her tea on my couch. The life I built was stripped away, piece by piece, handed to her. I was the villain.
Days later, I saw them through the office glass: Mark, his hands on Chloe's shoulders, telling everyone how "natural" she was at my job, even offering her my share of the company. A wave of nausea hit me. He was giving away my life.
Then, Chloe fell to her knees, sobbing, "If I don't complete the quest, my System will execute me!" My blood ran cold. My entire life, my heartbreak, was just a game, and I was the final boss. Mark knew. He watched me grieve, he watched me break, and he enjoyed it. The pain ripped through my chest. "Goodbye, Mark." And then, everything went dark.
Five years later, I'm CEO of my own firm, thriving, with Zephyr, my System, now a human companion. He tells me Mark has spent years torturing Chloe, trying to cross dimensions to find me. I see Mark, gaunt and manic, screaming at a chained Chloe, desperate to reach me.
"Mark," I say, my disembodied voice echoing. "It's over." But he tries to force a gateway. Zephyr appears, stopping him, a deep, resonant voice proclaiming, "I'm the one who always chose her." He turns to me, his eyes filled with unwavering affection. "I love you, Ava Miller. I always have." And as he leans in to kiss me, I know I'm home. The Day Love Died
Romance My game, "Echoes of Starlight," the culmination of years of my life, was finally launching. My wife, Chloe, wasn' t there, opting instead for a critical business dinner with her partner, Liam.
The moment it went live, a text from her arrived, calling my life' s work a mere "hobby," a phrase that felt like a mockery, solidifying the sickening feeling that for years, "for us" had always meant "for her ambition, fueled by my dreams."
That night, Liam's cologne clinging to her, she breezily dismissed my hurt, doubling down on her priorities, until I, completely hollowed out, declared our marriage over. In a dramatic twist, I revealed years of hidden financial success from my "little pixel art," shattering her condescending view of me.
The final blow came at a tech gala, where I, the "Breakout Developer," was courted by a publishing giant, a scene she witnessed in shocked silence. She tried to reconcile, desperately asking if I still loved her, even using our shared tragedy-a miscarriage-as a bargaining chip.
But the love had died, starved by her neglect. I calmly told her, "No." My freedom had finally begun. Reborn: A Queen's Vengeance
Romance The grand hall of the royal palace was suffocating, every eye fixed on me as I stood before the throne, about to choose my betrothed.
This supposed day of destiny was, for me, the day my life had already brutally ended before.
I remembered the cold bite of the executioner's axe, the jeering crowd, and Prince Adrian, the man I loved, standing with his new lover, Lady Seraphina, watching me die.
He had accused me of treason-all to clear his path to her.
My last breath was choked with betrayal, then darkness, until I woke up screaming in my own bed, alive again.
I was back, at the very ceremony that had sealed my doom.
King Theron boomed, calling for my choice between General Kaelen and Prince Adrian.
Adrian, handsome and charming, hissed a low warning, meant only for me: "Don't even think about it, Elara. You know who I want."
He then arrogantly announced to the King that his heart belonged to Lady Seraphina, publicly humiliating me.
The old me would have crumbled, but not anymore.
Fueling my resolve with the memory of the axe, I walked past a stunned Adrian, ignoring his fury, and stopped before General Kaelen.
My voice clear and steady for the entire hall to hear, I declared: "I choose General Kaelen."
The silence was deafening, the murmurs of scandal already rising.
Adrian, enraged by my defiance, later cornered me, his eyes blazing.
"You're trying to make me jealous," he sneered, then leaned in, whispering, "When you get tired of his boring silence, you can come to me. I'll keep you as a mistress. It might be... amusing."
The arrogance, the sheer disregard for my dignity, fueled a cold, hard anger within me.
"You are mistaken, Adrian," I replied, my voice like ice. "I belong to no one but myself. And my future belongs to General Kaelen."
He failed to grasp that I was not the girl he knew, leaving him sputtering in indignation.
Days later, his scheme with Seraphina to extort my dowry by faking an injury led to Adrian striking me, then shoving my loyal maid, Lyra, who hit her head and lay still.
Seeing Lyra, my innocent, loyal maid, injured because of them, something inside me snapped.
The last vestiges of my old self burned away, leaving only a cold, pure, diamond-hard rage.
They had gone too far.
They had hurt my people.
And for that, they would pay.
I made a silent vow, looking at Lyra' s still form: I will not just survive.
I will not just win.
I will destroy you.
Just then, a calm, cold voice broke through the tension, "You will not touch her."
General Kaelen stood in the doorway, dust-worn armor telling of his rapid return, his hand on his greatsword.
He was back. The Debt of Deception
Horror My bank account was a graveyard of numbers, each one a testament to my crushing debt.
One hundred and fifty-two thousand, four hundred and eighty-one dollars and sixty-two cents, to be exact.
It all started when Jennifer Chavez, my ex-colleague, whispered about an impending grid collapse.
I believed her. I drained credit cards, took out high-interest loans, and filled my Portland apartment with freeze-dried food and solar generators.
Then Jennifer posted from Bali, "#blessed."
The grid never went down. My life, however, did.
Eviction notices piled up, and my phone wouldn't stop buzzing with collection calls.
I hated Jennifer. I hated her effortless success while I stared at a mountain of useless survival gear, suffocating under my own stupidity.
Just when I considered oblivion, my obnoxious upstairs neighbor, Sweet_Caroline, shrieked, "I make more money in one of these livestreams than you probably make in a month."
Something snapped.
What if I gave them an apocalypse? She Took My Money, Not My Soul
Modern After three years working my ass off on an oil rig in the North Sea, all I wanted was a cold beer and my wife, Gabrielle.
Instead, I came home early to an empty, neglected house and found her playing house with her high school sweetheart, Wesley Clark, by the duck pond.
She slapped me, right there in the park, and screamed that I had abandoned her, accusing me of cheating while I was thousands of miles away paying for her family's every need.
How could she twist the truth so profoundly, to cast me as the villain when she was the one having an affair and squandering my money?
But as I walked away from the wreckage of my marriage, a cold realization solidified into a dangerous plan: if she and her new lover thought they could get rich by destroying me, they were about to learn a very painful lesson about loyalty and consequences. The Woman They Underestimated
Romance I thought I had it all: a miracle pregnancy after a year of grueling IVF, and a loving husband, Liam, who seemingly saved me from my family's ruin by providing lavish care for my ailing mother. He was my protector, my savior.
But a surprise prenatal check-up took me to a discreet private clinic I' d never seen. Liam dropped a bombshell: his childhood friend, Isabella, was dying and needed a bone marrow transplant. My blood was a perfect match.
Then came the chilling demand: terminate our much-awaited pregnancy. When I refused, he calmly laid out his threat: if I didn't comply, my sick mother' s life-sustaining care, fully under his control, would cease. Trapped and terrified, I submitted.
Waking up, I learned Liam had flown to Switzerland with Isabella. Then came the video: Isabella, triumphant, as Liam meticulously peeled a grape for her, a gesture he' d always refused me. A phone call confirmed my nightmare: Isabella revealed Liam married me solely for my compatibility as a donor. She' d even tormented my mother, bragging about my sacrifice, causing her agitated death on the same night.
I was a tool, my baby gone, my mother murdered. But when Liam tried to delete the damning security footage, my old friend Julian revealed a hidden backup. Now, with Liam and Isabella believing they' d won, I understand the ultimate betrayal. They destroyed everything I held dear. It' s time they learned what a woman with nothing left to lose can do. No More Sacrifices
Modern The smell of cheap hotdogs and burnt sugar hung heavy in the air.
I stood there, watching Jake Henderson, the town's golden boy, showing off on the old wooden tower.
Just like before, he was about to fall.
Last time, I sacrificed everything. I became his human shield, shattering my hand, losing my art scholarship, and condemning myself to a lifetime of his manipulation and infidelity.
He married me out of supposed obligation, then poisoned our children against me, constantly whispering how I' d supposedly stolen his chance with Tiffany, his 'white moonlight' who' d effortlessly claimed my future.
I died alone, full of agonizing regret in a sterile room, my dreams turned to ash.
But now, I was back.
Frozen at the exact same moment, watching him teeter.
A cold, unwavering resolve washed over me.
No. More. Sacrifices.
This time, I wouldn't move an inch.
Let him fall.
This was my chance to shatter the chains of the past, reclaim my stolen future, and finally build a life free from Jake. His Unhinged Wife\'s Truth
Modern My five-year-old son, Leo, was the sunshine of my life, even with the constant shadow of his severe peanut allergy.
At the town picnic, Leo took a bite of a cookie, and suddenly, his vibrant laughter turned into a terrifying, choked gasp.
I screamed for my husband, Mark, to get the EpiPen, but his eyes were glued on Tiffany, the preacher's daughter, as she dramatically faked a faint, her Southern charm a cruel façade.
Mark, annoyed by my panic, fumbled, then dropped the vital medication to rush to Tiffany' s side, coldly telling me to "just use the damn thing."
Precious seconds became an eternity as I jammed the EpiPen into Leo' s thigh, but it was too late.
My son died in my arms while Mark, concerned only with appearances, blamed me, then threw me out of our home.
He then twisted the narrative, using his influence to have me forcibly committed to a psychiatric hospital, branding me as an "unhinged" mother to the entire town.
How could he, the man I loved, systematically destroy my reputation and freedom immediately after our child's death, all to protect his own ambitions?
Just as I believed I had nothing left, an old friend, David, who had built a tech empire and returned to town in a wheelchair, offered me a stunningly strategic proposal: "Marry me."
He promised a home, security, and the leverage to fight back, igniting a cold, powerful resolve in my shattered heart. A Husband's Betrayal, A Wife's Reckoning
Romance My Hamptons dream life with Ethan, my rising star finance husband, shattered when masked men invaded our home, leaving me pregnant and terrified.
A month later, my husband’s “fragile” childhood friend, Izzy Vance, suddenly announced her own pregnancy, suspiciously close in timing.
Then came Ethan’s devastating public lie: he claimed Izzy’s baby was his, letting the world believe my child was conceived during the home invasion. My “ordeal baby” became tabloid fodder, and my world imploded.
The man I loved had thrown me to the wolves, prioritizing Izzy’s fabricated image above my real trauma.
He dismissed my pain, my forced abortion, and even my head injury, leaving me bleeding on the street while he rushed to Izzy’s side after a staged accident.
He forced me to donate blood even after my own procedure, and used my public humiliation at a gala to solidify his own hero narrative.
Every interaction became a new cut, cementing my role as the villain in his carefully crafted play.
How could Ethan be so unbelievably blind?
So utterly complicit in my destruction?
The man who promised to protect me had become my greatest betrayer, leaving me broken, grieving, and utterly alone.
But his unwavering faith in Izzy's insidious lies, culminating in her fake accusation of me attacking a pregnant woman, didn't break me. It ignited a cold, steel resolve.
They wanted a lavish baby shower? Oh, I’d bring a gift – a secret that would not only expose their entire charade but detonate their perfect world, ensuring a spectacular downfall for all involved. It was time for my quiet, lethal revenge. You might like
The Billionaire's Ego: My Ruthless Divorce
Westley Curlin I had been a "decoration piece" for Kenton Parker for three years, a contract wife bought to pay off my father’s gambling debts. I lived in a cold penthouse, making his coffee and answering his phones, while he treated me with the clinical indifference of a stranger.
On our third anniversary, I waited alone at the city’s most exclusive restaurant, only to see a news alert flash on my phone. Kenton wasn't coming. He was caught on camera at a hospital, looking at his "friend," ballerina Blanca Donovan, with a raw, frantic worry he had never once shown me, not even when I fell down a flight of stairs.
I finally snapped and filed for divorce, citing his "irreversible erectile dysfunction" just to destroy his massive ego. I thought I was free, but Kenton retaliated with a cruelty that left me breathless. He froze every bank account I owned and had his secretary smash the last photo I had of my mother. He reminded me of the five-million-dollar penalty in my contract—money I didn't have.
"You don't get to leave until I say so," he roared, dragging me into his office. He used my father’s life as a leash, forcing me to play the part of a doting wife at his family’s Hamptons estate to please his sick mother. He wanted to starve me out until I crawled back to his side.
I couldn't understand how a man could be so heartless. He didn't want my heart, yet he refused to let me go, treating my life like a line item in a corporate merger. He wanted to keep me as his prisoner while he spent his nights with another woman.
But Kenton made one fatal mistake. He thought I was just a broke, submissive secretary with nowhere to turn. He didn't know that I was "Vee," a world-renowned art restorer with a secret legacy and a six-figure commission waiting for me.
As we shared a bed in the Hamptons and he pulled me against his chest, whispering that I was "his," I didn't feel comfort. I felt the cold, hard spark of a woman who was finally ready to burn his contract to the ground. From Brokenness To Billionaire Bride
William Jafferson 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." His Annoyance, My Awakening
Fonz Nadherny The last thing I remembered was the grinding sound of machinery, a symphony of six years in our small town, now a city death knell.
My children, Lily and Tom, were so excited to visit their father Michael' s new, successful factory.
"They've missed Michael so much, Ava. Let them go see him. He's just inside." Sarah, Michael's brother's widow, whispered, her arm around my shoulder, her voice a sweet poison.
I watched them run ahead, their small figures disappearing through the massive doorway, believing their father was building a better life for us.
They didn' t know the truth: Michael had left us for Sarah, taking our factory severance pay to build his new life with her and her children.
Then I saw Sarah' s real smile-sharp, cold. She pushed an unsecured metal cart. A klaxon blared. Two screams, cut short by a sickening crunch, a spray of red. My world ended.
Michael stood over me, his face filled with chilling annoyance, not grief.
"Well, that's that, then," he said, flatly. "Saves me the trouble and expense of a divorce, I guess."
He glanced at the machinery. "They were just baggage anyway, Ava. Holding me back."
His words annihilated my soul, a physical force squeezing the breath from me. The world turned gray, then black. I died on that cold, greasy floor.
And then, I gasped. I was in my cramped bedroom, sunlight filtering through the grimy window. A calendar on the wall marked the day the factory closed. Lily and Tom sat on the rug, whole and alive.
"Mommy?" Lily asked, her big brown eyes filled with concern. "Are you okay?"
Tears streamed down my face. I clung to them, inhaling their scent. I was back.
The memory of their deaths, of Michael's monstrous words, was burned into my mind. Grief remained, a hot knot of agony, but something cold, hard, and sharp solidified beside it.
Revenge. Michael. Sarah. You will pay. I will tear down your world, piece by piece, and I will make you feel every ounce of the agony you gave me.
This was not a second chance at happiness. It was a second chance at justice. The Night I Hunted a Killer, They Hunted Me
Shu Yu At East Coast University, being Valedictorian wasn't an honor; it was a death sentence.
Every year, the top graduate met a horrific end, fueling whispers of a chilling campus curse.
Three years ago, my brilliant sister, Claire, delivered her valedictory speech, radiating hope and promising to break this very curse.
But just a week later, she was found dead, an alleged suicide, leaving behind a cold, printed note: "Allie, never pursue peak glory."
Claire always called me "Allie-cat," never just "Allie;" I knew instantly the note was a fake, a twisted cover-up for her murder.
Consumed by grief and an unyielding desire for justice, I spent three years meticulously climbing the academic ladder, earning the top spot, becoming this year's Valedictorian to expose the truth and lure her real killer into the light.
The night before graduation, I went live online, publicly challenging the murderer, declaring Claire was slain and not the first victim of this academic reckoning.
But instead of catching *them*, the police stormed my dorm, arresting *me*, accusing me of being the serial killer responsible for all the other Valedictorian deaths.
Then my own mother, face masked and frantic, burst in, screaming a desperate confession, trying to take the fall for *my* alleged crimes, hinting at a horrifying family secret far deeper than I could ever comprehend.
How could I, the one tirelessly hunting the truth, suddenly become the monstrous subject of a nationwide witch hunt, framed as the cold, calculating killer I sought to unmask?
Shoved into the back of a police car, the only image seared into my mind was my mother's face—pale, terrified, a silent plea begging me to finally unravel the devastating truth she couldn't speak aloud.
Then, chaos erupted: a deliberate, violent car crash, my chance to escape the clutches of a corrupt system and dark accusations.
Now, on the run, I chase the elusive whispers of Mom’s hidden fears and a mysterious clue from my long-dead father’s past, determined to unearth the real answers that lie buried beneath the surface of my sister’s tragic death. ENRAGED SOUL
otu Harriet Laura was a bold, courageous, gorgeous, intelligent young lady who always stood out for herself. She always fought for her right and never allowed anyone to look down on her , her family nor her friends.
She was known as the most brilliant and talented student in her class. This irritated some of her mates and led to the plot of her attack to tame her.
" Hold her, let's see how her intelligence works this time...", Ben exclaimed, landing a huge slap on her cheek.
Patrick and Fred held her tightly, chuckling and teasing.
They molested and bullied her until she passed out.
" Wait, Ben, I think we killed her....", Fred cried
" Shut up, what do you know? She's just doing that to scare us...."
" No, Ben...I think he's right...we killed her..."
" Oh, my God...what should we do..."
Join me on this journey while we find out what they did to her body and the outcome of their action.
ENRAGED SOUL;The revenge of a traumatized girl My Family's Faith, My Bloody Fate
Landslide It started on the one-year anniversary of my return, a day meant for joy.
Instead, my family, devout and God-fearing, brutally murdered me.
My brother, my protector, became a "defiler" screaming monster, my father, a man of God, cut off my hand with a rusty saw, and my mother, once overjoyed, called me an "abomination."
They threw my bleeding body into a silo, sealing the hatch, and as I died, I only had one question: Why?
It was the locket. The small, carved wooden locket my sister, Esther, had given me moments before, a "welcome home" gift that instantly turned my loving family into rabid killers.
Somehow, I woke up. It' s the same day, the same anniversary. Esther is coming up the stairs, the locket in her hand, about to give me the gift that will trigger their bloodlust again.
This time, I refuse. But Esther is cunning, and soon, I'm dodging my family's crazed attacks, desperately trying to expose their dark beliefs to the authorities. They look at me like I' m simply a troubled girl with an overzealous family.
Knowing the law won't stop their fanaticism, I have no choice but to use their own twisted faith against them, no matter the cost, to finally break free. I Tamed the Monster He Sent
Luo Chengfeng The last thing I saw was Thunder’s bloodied jaws, closing in on me.
My daughter, Sophia, lay broken a few feet away, already gone.
Pain, then darkness.
Then, with a gasp, I bolted upright, my heart hammering like a drum.
I was back on the same rough porch, facing the same smug smirk of Old John.
At the end of his chain was Thunder, the Australian Cattle Dog who had butchered my child and me.
“Heard you were back in town, Isabella,” Old John rasped, his voice a cruel mockery of a welcome.
“Brought you a little housewarming gift,” he added, pulling the chain as Thunder whined, straining to reach me, just like that first time.
The memory crashed over me: Thunder’s lunge, the searing agony as his teeth tore my thigh, the hot gush of blood, and then, Sophia’s petrified screams followed by chilling silence as he turned to her.
Old John had known my paralyzing fear of dogs, yet he had specifically brought this hulking beast to torment me.
He had laughed when I pleaded, ignoring the danger, using the dog as his personal weapon.
Every horrifying detail, every agonizing moment of Sophia’s brutal death and my own demise, flooded my mind with chilling clarity.
But this time, as Thunder lunged forward once more, I forced my trembling legs to stop.
No. Not again.
This time, things would be different. Reborn to Reign: A Mother's Fury
ffssg My name is Sarah, and I remember the cold.
Not the chill of winter, but the stainless-steel table against my back.
My sons, Michael and Gabriel, were gone, their screams replaced by silence.
My husband David, blinded by ambition, led us to that abandoned clinic.
His sister, Veronica, craved an heir for her powerful husband, Senator Harrison.
She believed my "Legacy Fertility" and my children's "vital essence" could help her.
A quack "expert" performed monstrous acts on my seven-year-old twins.
Then it was my turn; they brutally harvested my ovarian tissue.
I was left to bleed out on a filthy floor, my insides torn.
I died there, a vow of revenge frozen on my lips.
Later, I saw Veronica on the news, pregnant and glowing with what she stole.
But then, warmth. Sunlight.
My eyes snapped open to my own familiar bedroom.
Michael was on my chest, Gabriel curled beside me, both alive, young, and whole.
The calendar read October 14th—the very day it all began.
The memory slammed into me: David's averted eyes, the isolated building, Veronica's cold voice, Michael's terror, Gabriel's whimper.
This wasn't a dream; this was a second chance.
Veronica, triumphant in my first life, had risen on my family's ashes, her belly swelling with a lie while mine was emptied by her greed.
No. Not again.
This time, I wouldn't just survive.
I would take everything she had, everything she wanted.
Her husband. Her position. Her future.
My revenge would be absolute, and my children would live. The game had begun. 
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