My Sweet Super Wife
10 Published Stories
My Sweet Super Wife's Books and Stories
The Day My World Shattered
Modern On our fifth wedding anniversary, my three-year-old daughter Kenisha' s rare illness led to a shocking discovery. A DNA test revealed she wasn't my biological child.
That same day, I overheard my husband, Corbin, confessing the truth to his mistress. They had swapped their baby for mine in the delivery room, declaring my real daughter dead-all part of a long con to steal my family's fortune.
When I confronted him, they turned the tables.
They framed me for killing Kenisha's pet rabbit in a fit of rage, had a corrupt doctor declare me mentally unstable, and imprisoned me in our penthouse under the guise of "treatment."
My husband, the man I loved, had not only stolen my child but was now trying to steal my sanity and freedom, all while turning the daughter I raised against me.
But they made one mistake. They thought I was broken. With my father's secret help, I escaped that gilded cage. Now, I'm going to find my real daughter, and I'm going to make him pay for every single lie. Too Late For Your Proposal
Modern My boyfriend, Carter, chose a ski trip with his manipulative "best friend," Bridget, after I gave him an ultimatum. "If you go, we're over," I had warned. He just laughed and told me not to come crying to him when I got lonely.
But while he was gone, the stress of his silence and Bridget's taunting Instagram posts sent me to the hospital with a bleeding stomach ulcer.
Lying in an urgent care bed, hooked up to an IV, I saw him liking her posts-pictures of them looking like a happy couple, with captions mocking me. He wasn't just ignoring my pain; he was actively endorsing it.
In that sterile room, something inside me didn't just break; it turned to ice. The years of begging for his affection, of fighting for his attention, simply evaporated.
So when he came home expecting his favorite dinner, I had a surprise for him instead.
"We broke up," I said, pointing to the moving boxes that held every last trace of him.
He pulled out a Tiffany bracelet, claiming he was going to propose. But it was too late. I had already called the movers. His Substitute Love, A Fatal Truth
Romance For five years, I was the cherished ward of Ambrose Aguilar, the man who saved me. I thought he loved me, until his pregnant first love, Katharine, returned. I was just her substitute.
That same day, I was diagnosed with a fatal blood disease, my only hope a transplant from family I never had.
Ambrose' s kindness turned to cruelty. He watched as Katharine tormented me, framed me, and finally ordered me killed.
But the cruelest twist came from a DNA test: Katharine, the architect of my suffering, was my biological mother.
She sacrificed her life to give me the transplant. Now I'm starting over, leaving the man who broke me to the ruins of his own making. His Other Family, My Shattered Life
Romance The two pink lines on the pregnancy test were a burst of pure joy, and I immediately called my husband, Ethan, a hero firefighter in our Cleveland hometown.
His voice on the phone was full of such happiness it brought tears to my eyes as he promised to come straight home.
But he never made it; a massive warehouse fire claimed his life, leaving me a pregnant widow, heartbroken and clinging to his identical twin brother' s comforting vow to take care of me.
My grief turned into a living nightmare when the arsonist gang Ethan had put away began harassing and attacking me, spray-painting threats on my door and cornering me in dark alleyways.
I nearly lost our baby, trapped in a relentless cycle of fear and isolation, with the man I believed was my brother-in-law "protecting" me.
Then, fleeing another violent break-in, I overheard an earth-shattering conversation at the Clark family home that revealed the horrifying truth: Ethan was alive.
He had faked his own death, letting me mourn him while he lived comfortably with his brother's widow, Molly, who was also pregnant with his child, coldly waiting for "a little more time" before returning to me.
The man I loved and grieved watched me suffer, watched me nearly lose our baby, all while orchestrating my pain and prioritizing his other family.
How could the hero I adored be such a monster, betraying me so cruelly for a woman he thought more "fragile" than his suffering wife and unborn child?
With the image of his charred helmet now nothing but a symbol of his monstrous lie, I made a desperate call, accepting firefighter Andy Lester' s wild offer to marry him-for protection, for escape, for a chance to finally run. When the Golden Goose Bites Back
Modern The annual end-of-year meeting at Lester Properties was always a performance, and as their top broker, I was ready for my big commission payout-over $500,000. I was the firm's golden goose, the one who closed impossible deals, and my massive year-end bonus was my true salary.
But this year, my boss, Matthew Lester, decided to turn my success into a public ambush. He announced there would be no bonuses due to a "tough market," then, with a predatory smile, suggested I "volunteer" my record-breaking commission to be distributed among the team.
The room erupted, not with gratitude for me, but with greedy demands from my colleagues, led by the jealous Molly Chadwick. They piled on the pressure, painting me as selfish if I refused, celebrating as I made a forced "agreement." My hard-earned money was being stripped away, stolen by my boss and celebrated by my colleagues.
How could my own company, the people I' d made millions for, do this to me? How could they, and Matthew, so casually demand a year of my life's work while my "teammates" cheered?
They thought they had broken me. They thought I was a fool who would meekly surrender. Oh, no. They had no idea what they had just started. The CEO Who Knew My Thoughts
Romance My family's tech company, ChenTech, was bleeding out, and Dad, ever the optimist, clung to an email from Stryker Innovations: an invitation to their "Next Generation Leaders Program." I was supposed to be our savior, a burnt-out junior software developer thrown into the corporate lion's den. I hated it, but Dad's desperate hope was a heavy chain around my neck.
The orientation was chillingly efficient. Damien Stryker, the CEO, radiated an unnerving stillness. He immediately dismissed anyone who' d used clichéd motivational posters. My blood ran cold, but my minimalist presentation was safe. Then, a sharp, sarcastic thought cut through my anxiety: What a certifiable lunatic. His gaze snapped up, piercing the room, locking onto me. He knew.
Instead of being dismissed, I was "promoted." Mr. Alistair Finch, Stryker' s chief of staff, informed me I was to be Damien's personal project assistant. My days became a bizarre loop of meticulously crafting his Colombian coffee (192 degrees, counter-clockwise stir) and organizing impossibly misfiled archives. Every mental groan, every cynical observation I made, he' d subtly echo or correct with a smirk I could almost feel. It felt less like a job, more like a cruel psychological experiment.
How could he know? The mind-reading was infuriating, humiliating. This man, who saw right through my carefully constructed facade, seemed to deliberately play with my thoughts, making me feel like a trapped rat. Was he just an eccentric genius, or something far more sinister? Was I truly losing my mind?
But then I started to notice: the companies he acquired often improved, employees thrived. The corporate wolf wasn't quite what he seemed. When his own stepmother, Eleanor, tried to weaponize me for corporate espionage, her veiled threats echoing his mind games, I realized the real danger wasn' t Damien. It was time to stop being a victim in this psychological maze and start fighting back. The Love He Killed
Fantasy My hands, once horrifically scarred, were healed by a cosmic bargain: save one struggling soul, Ethan Hayes, in another reality.
For eight years, I poured my life into his, turning a broken man with crushing debt into a tech titan. We built an empire, married, and for a time, I truly loved him, believing our future was forged in shared dreams.
But then, the architect of his redemption became the victim of his betrayal.
His intern, Chloe Vance, slid into our lives and straight into his bed.
Three years of his gaslighting, hidden affairs that became blatant, and the grinding neglect slowly extinguished the vibrant woman I once was.
The final, brutal blow came when Chloe, smugly pregnant, revealed Ethan had "gifted" her our vineyard estate-my home.
My heart, once shattered, had simply turned to ash.
I meticulously liquidated a fortune I' d fought to earn, preparing for an escape he' d facilitated with every lie and condescending guilt-gift.
He bought me diamond necklaces while Chloe flaunted her presence in our penthouse.
On my birthday, he cornered me, enraged, accusing me of threatening his new family, blind to the fact that his actions had already killed everything between us.
He was a stranger, a ghost clinging to a broken past.
I was long past anger, past pain-only a chilling resolve remained.
How could he not see? How could he not understand that the woman who healed him had been destroyed by him?
So, as he lunged forward, his face contorted with a fury born of his own making, I didn't resist.
Instead, I calmly whispered, "Happy birthday to me." And then, with a resolute step onto nothingness, I embraced my "death," not as an end, but as a long-overdue return to the life and self I was always meant to be. The Price of an Inheritance
Billionaires My whole world revolved around Ethan Vanderbilt, the wealthy heir, and our shared dream of a life in Aspen.
Our future, however, was conditional: he first had to secure his family's multi-billion dollar inheritance by having children with another woman, his childhood friend Brittany Hayes.
I became his secret, patient mistress, waiting in the shadows for my turn.
They had their first child, then another, and I was forced into the degrading role of nanny to his legitimate heirs, living under the Vanderbilt family's scorn.
Then, the unthinkable happened: I became pregnant with Ethan's child.
But a devastating fall during a desperate hike ended everything; I lost our baby.
His powerful family, the Vanderbilts, saw my immense loss not with compassion, but as a convenient solution to their "problem."
They coldly denied me anesthesia for the D&C, subjecting me to a brutal, agonizing procedure that left me not only physically and emotionally shattered but also likely infertile.
Ethan, lost in his new "perfect family" facade, retreated, leaving me trapped in their lavish prison, enduring vile taunts from his children.
How could the man I loved, who swore he'd choose me, allow such unspeakable barbarity, treating my body and my profound grief with such callous indifference?
And how could his spoiled son, EJ, deliberately destroy my last precious link to my deceased mother—a treasured voice recorder—right under his father's passive gaze?
As I lay bleeding, broken by that final act of cruelty, a rugged stranger, a man from the mountains, appeared at the door like a forgotten dream.
He was my unlikely deliverer, walking into my nightmare, ready to pull me from the wreckage and finally help me reclaim a life I thought was lost forever. Betrayed By The Beat: An Heiress's Revenge
Billionaires At his debut album party, I watched my boyfriend, Ethan White, on top of the world.
His success, though, was built on my quiet sacrifices, my hidden connections as Amelia Sterling, heir to a Texas oil fortune.
I'd given up everything to be "Amy," the girl who loved his music, not his money.
But his slick new manager, Sophia Rivera, had other plans.
She turned Ethan's triumph into my public execution.
On the giant screen, my face flashed, doctored photos painting me as a manipulative, cheating schemer.
"Gross Misconduct," read the bold red text next to my name as Ethan fired me, his eyes colder than I ever imagined.
He accused me of using him, of having a "sugar daddy," pointing to a photo of me with my own father.
Sophia smashed my phone and he locked me in our apartment, threatening to blacklist me from the industry, while she faked a pregnancy to solidify her place.
My heart shattered into a million pieces.
Every sacrifice, every hidden connection I pulled for him, twisted into a weapon.
How could the man I loved, for whom I gave everything, betray me so cruelly, so publicly?
Trapped and heartbroken, one last flicker of hope remained.
A battered burner phone, tucked away, for emergencies.
With trembling fingers, I called the only person strong enough to turn this nightmare around.
"Dad," I choked out, revealing the truth of Amelia Sterling for the first time in years.
Ethan White had just declared war on the wrong woman, and he had no idea what was coming. You might like
The Ghost Wife's Billion Dollar Tech Comeback
Huo Wuer Today is October 14th, my birthday. I returned to New York after months away, dragging my suitcase through the biting wind, but the VIP pickup zone where my husband’s Maybach usually idled was empty.
When I finally let myself into our Upper East Side penthouse, I didn’t find a cake or a "welcome home" banner. Instead, I found my husband, Caden, kneeling on the floor, helping our five-year-old daughter wrap a massive gift for my half-sister, Adalynn.
Caden didn’t even look up when I walked in; he was too busy laughing with the girl who had already stolen my father’s legacy and was now moving in on my family. "Auntie Addie is a million times better than Mommy," my daughter Elara chirped, clutching a plush toy Caden had once forbidden me from buying for her. "Mommy is mean," she whispered loudly, while Caden just smirked, calling me a "drill sergeant" before whisking her off to Adalynn’s party without a second glance.
Later that night, I saw a video Adalynn posted online where my husband and child laughed while mocking my "sensitive" nature, treating me like an inconvenient ghost in my own home. I had spent five years researching nutrition for Elara’s health and managing every detail of Caden’s empire, only to be discarded the moment I wasn't in the room.
How could the man who set his safe combination to my birthday completely forget I even existed? The realization didn't break me; it turned me into ice.
I didn't scream or beg for an explanation. I simply walked into the study, pulled out the divorce papers I’d drafted months ago, and took a black marker to the terms. I crossed out the alimony, the mansion, and even the custody clause—if they wanted a life without me, I would give them exactly what they asked for.
I left my four-carat diamond ring on the console table and walked out into the rain with nothing but a heavily encrypted hard drive. The submissive Mrs. Holloway was gone, and "Ghost," the most lethal architect in the tech world, was finally back online to take back everything they thought I’d forgotten. The Humble Ex-wife Is Now A Brilliant Tycoon
Flory Corkery For three quiet, patient years, Christina kept house, only to be coldly discarded by the man she once trusted.
Instead, he paraded a new lover, making her the punchline of every town joke.
Liberated, she honed her long-ignored gifts, astonishing the town with triumph after gleaming triumph.
Upon discovering she'd been a treasure all along, her ex-husband's regret drove him to pursue her. "Honey, let's get back together!"
With a cold smirk, Christina spat, "Fuck off."
A silken-suited mogul slipped an arm around her waist. "She's married to me now. Guards, get him the hell out of here!" Marrying Her Was Easy, Losing Her Was Hell
Michael Tretter "Stella once savored Marc's devotion, yet his covert cruelty cut deep. She torched their wedding portrait at his feet while he sent flirty messages to his mistress.
With her chest tight and eyes blazing, Stella delivered a sharp slap.
Then she deleted her identity, signed onto a classified research mission, vanished without a trace, and left him a hidden bombshell.
On launch day she vanished; that same dawn Marc's empire crumbled. All he unearthed was her death certificate, and he shattered.
When they met again, a gala spotlighted Stella beside a tycoon. Marc begged. With a smirk, she said, ""Out of your league, darling." 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." The Queen Returns: Pampered By Her Three Powerhouse Brothers
Kleon Samorodnitsky After five years of playing the perfect daughter, Rylie was exposed as a stand-in. Her fiancé bolted, friends scattered, and her adoptive brothers shoved her out, telling her to grovel back to her real family. Done with humiliation, she swore to claw back what was hers. Shock followed: her birth family ruled the town's wealth. Overnight, she became their precious girl. The boardroom brother canceled meetings, the genius brother ditched his lab, the musician brother postponed a tour. As those who spurned her begged forgiveness, Admiral Brad Morgan calmly declared, "She's already taken." Destiny's Choice: Married The Man They Called Unlovable
Lila Rivers Sophie stepped in for her sister and married a man known for his disfigured looks and reckless past.
On their wedding day, his family turned their backs on him, and the town laughed behind their hands, certain the marriage would collapse.
But Sophie's career soared, and their love only deepened.
Later, during a high-profile event, the CEO of some conglomerate took off his mask, revealing Sophie's husband to be a global sensation.
***
Adrian had no interest in his arranged wife and had disguised himself in hopes she would bail.
But when Sophie tried to walk away, Adrian broke down and whispered, "Please, Sophie, don't go. One kiss, and I'll give you the world." The Surgeon's Vow: Healing My Billionaire Husband
Qing Shui I sat in the gray, airless room of the New York State Department of Corrections, my knuckles white as the Warden delivered the news.
"Parole denied."
My father, Howard Sterling, had forged new evidence of financial crimes to keep me behind bars. He walked into the room, smelling of expensive cologne, and tossed a black folder onto the steel table. It was a marriage contract for Lucas Kensington, a billionaire currently lying in a vegetative state in the ICU.
"Sign it. You walk out today."
I laughed at the idea of being sold to a "corpse" until Howard slid a grainy photo toward me. It showed a toddler with a crescent-moon birthmark—the son Howard told me had died in an incubator five years ago. He smiled and told me the boy's safety depended entirely on my cooperation.
I was thrust into the Kensington estate, where the family treated me like a "drowned rat." They dressed me in mothball-scented rags and mocked my status, unaware that I was monitoring their every move. I watched the cousin, Julian, openly waiting for Lucas to die to inherit the empire, while the doctors prepared to sign the death certificate.
I didn't understand why my father would lie about my son’s death for years, or what kind of monsters would use a child as a bargaining chip. The injustice of it burned in my chest as I realized I was just a pawn in a game of old money and blood.
As the monitors began to flatline and the family started to celebrate their inheritance, I locked the door and reached into the hem of my dress. I pulled out the sharpened silver wires I’d fashioned in the prison workshop. They thought they bought a submissive convict, but they actually invited "The Saint"—the world’s most dangerous underground surgeon—into their home.
"Wake up, Lucas. You owe me a life."
I wasn't there to be a bride; I was there to wake the dead and burn their empire to the ground. 
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