Mu Hui Xin
17 Published Stories
Mu Hui Xin's Books and Stories
The CEO's Betrayal: My Escape
Modern After eight years, I watched the man I loved, Ethan Morgan, celebrate a success he' d stolen from me. He stood on stage with his assistant, Bella, giving her the credit and the massive commission that was rightfully mine. His CEO smile, once reserved for me, was now exclusively for her.
He claimed it was punishment for my mother' s engagement to his wealthy father, calling her a gold-digger and me a co-conspirator in her "scheme."
Later, he texted that he was "out of town for a few days." But on Instagram, I saw the truth: a selfie of him and Bella on his private jet, on a romantic getaway.
In the background of their photo was a small, silver-framed picture of us from our trip to Santorini. The violation was absolute. Our entire life together was a lie.
That was it. I sent my resignation, effective immediately, and booked a one-way ticket to Oregon. I was done being his victim. 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. 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. 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
Death of a Love, Birth of a Ghost
George B My sister Ivanna's son was dying. His leukemia had returned, and he needed a bone marrow transplant immediately.
My husband, Jaimen, didn't hesitate. His cold eyes landed on our five-year-old daughter, Lily, playing in the corner.
"Use Lily's," he said. "Her marrow is a perfect match."
When I refused, he and my own sister pinned me to the floor. They ignored my screams as doctors held down my terrified daughter and performed the extraction.
They took too much. Lily died the next day of cardiac arrest. Then, they had me beaten and dumped my body in a dark alley, leaving me to die alone.
For three years, Jaimen believed I had run away out of spite. He cursed my name, telling everyone I was a venomous woman who had murdered our daughter to get back at him.
Now, Timothy's leukemia is back, and Jaimen has launched a massive, city-wide manhunt. He is threatening to torture my mother to force me out of hiding, vowing to break my legs and make me kneel.
He has no idea his search will lead him to two graves.
And that my ghost is watching his every move, waiting for the moment he finally learns the truth. 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. A Father's Vengeance
Bu Gui The smoke burned my eyes, thick and acrid, as my three-year-old son, Caleb, coughed weakly beside me.
My wife, Jennifer, stood at the wine cellar door, her gaze fixed on her brother-in-law, Ryan.
"It's for Molly's sake," she said, her voice chillingly devoid of warmth.
"The guru said Caleb's energy caused her asthma attack. We have to cleanse it."
She slammed the heavy oak door shut, the bolt thudding into place, trapping us.
My son, who had a severe peanut allergy and sensitive lungs, was left to suffocate in the toxic smoke.
Days bled into a hazy nightmare until Jennifer' s brother, Wesley, appeared, revealing Jennifer never loved me; I was just a rebound.
He then callously threw more sage onto the embers, sealing our tomb deeper.
I clawed our way out, just barely, carrying Caleb' s limp, blue body to a hospital, clinging to a desperate thread of hope.
But Jennifer arrived, not for us, but demanding Caleb's O-negative blood for Molly' s minor fender bender injury, ignoring doctors' pleas.
"He's my son. Do it," she commanded, her eyes cold.
Then, with a casual glance at Caleb, a nurse, obviously bribed, fed him a peanut granola bar.
The flatline screamed, and Caleb arched, his tiny chest still.
Jennifer, with Ryan' s arm around her, turned her back on our dying son to comfort Molly' s fake tears.
My world shattered.
Ryan' s venomous whisper echoed: "You and your son, you were always in the way."
How could a mother abandon her child to such a horrifying death?
How could she choose a niece over her own son, then murder him without a second thought?
Something inside me didn't just break; it turned to dust, then reformed into steel.
Andrew Wright had to die, so the man who would take everything from them could be born. My Heart, My Vengeance
Lan Zixin I spent three years locked away by my husband, Ethan, in a soundproof panic room.
My legs, shattered in the "accident" he orchestrated, were useless.
He stole my songs, my career, my life, and gave them to Chloe, a talentless fraud he built into a star.
Then, they wheeled me out-a prisoner displayed for the "happy family": Ethan, Chloe, and my son, Leo.
Leo, who looked at me like a monster, holding Chloe's hand and calling her "mom."
Ethan ordered me to confess to plagiarism, to blame my own "jealousy" for his intricate web of lies that destroyed me.
But the ultimate cruelty came later.
Chloe, supposedly dying from a heart condition, needed a transplant.
"You're a match," Ethan stated, his voice devoid of emotion.
"You will donate your heart to Chloe."
It wasn't a request; it was my execution.
My heart for hers, the last piece of me carved out and given to the woman who stole my life.
As the scalpel touched my skin, Chloe whispered, "This is for stealing my life, you bitch."
I closed my eyes, uttering one word to the mysterious "Pact" I made years ago.
Then, I left my body to die.
Yet, I woke up.
Not gone, but back.
And the Pact whispered a new bargain: return to stop Ethan, who, shattered by my death, was becoming a true monster.
The deal was clear: save him and save my sister.
I stepped back into hell, but this time, the chains were broken, and I was ready to fight. 
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