Noah Reed
8 Published Stories
Noah Reed's Books and Stories
Trapped In The Reborn Billionaire's Embrace
Romance Dalton woke up drenched in cold sweat, his heart hammering against his ribs like a trapped bird. The room was dark, but the date on the nightstand screamed the truth: it was three years ago, the exact night his nightmare began.
Beside him, Audriana was thrashing in a drug-induced fever, her body burning as she clawed at her blouse. The memory of her lifeless, broken body from his past life slammed into his skull, and the suffocating realization hit him—he had been given a second chance.
But before he could even process the miracle, the bedroom door clicked. Chadwick Kowalski, the man who had ruined Audriana in his past life, was outside with a pack of paparazzi, shoving a cloned keycard into the lock, ready to capture her at her most vulnerable.
I watched as the reporters burst in, cameras flashing, desperate to document her destruction. They pointed fingers, screaming that I had forced her, while Chadwick played the heartbroken boyfriend to perfection, his eyes gleaming with greed as he sold her out to a debt-ridden poker ring.
How could he be so cruel? How could he trade the woman he claimed to love for a stack of cash? I looked at Audriana, trembling and terrified in my arms, and felt a cold, lethal rage turn my blood to ice.
I stepped into the frame, my voice cutting through the chaos like a blade. "Audriana Christensen is my fiancée," I declared, silencing the room instantly. This time, the nightmare ends with me, and I will burn everything to the ground to keep her safe. The Architect's Vengeance: Empire Falls
Romance My husband, Caden, was a real estate mogul who built his empire on our love story. The world swooned when he named his latest skyscraper the "Allisson Tower," calling it a modern-day Taj Mahal. But it was my design, and his grand gestures were just a cover for a grander theft.
I discovered he wasn't just cheating with his pregnant mistress. He had stolen my architectural blueprints-the very foundation of his celebrated career.
He' d bring me to the same restaurant where he' d just entertained her, recycling his romantic gestures. I watched him smile genuinely at her livestream while holding my hand, sending her virtual gifts with the message, "My princess deserves all this and more. You' re the only one for me."
The man who swore "absolute honesty" on our wedding day had built our entire life on a mountain of lies. He didn't just break his vows; he pulverized them, turning our love into a public spectacle.
So I planned my escape. I signed the divorce papers, packaged them with irrefutable proof of his plagiarism inside a model of the first building he stole, and handed it to him as an "anniversary gift."
"You can't open it for two weeks," I told him.
He had no idea that in two weeks, his wife would be a ghost and his empire would be ashes. His Brother's Promise, My Silent Revenge
Romance For one thousand, eight hundred and twenty-five days, I honored a deathbed promise to the man I loved. I stayed by his brother's side, acting as Grafton Mcleod's loyal assistant, his shadow, and the keeper of his secrets.
When my five-year sentence was finally up, he announced his engagement to Cherrelle, the woman who took cruel pleasure in tormenting me. His celebratory gift to me? The task of planning their perfect engagement party.
At the party, he publicly dismissed me as an "old obligation." Later, drunk and angry, he cornered me in a back office. He slammed me against the door, his mouth crashing down on mine in a brutal, clumsy kiss.
He pinned me there, his body pressing into mine, and whispered a name against my lips.
It wasn't my name.
"Cherrelle."
The violation wasn't the assault; it was the complete and utter erasure. I wasn't a person he hated or desired. I was just a stand-in, a warm body, a substitute for the woman he actually wanted. The last flicker of loyalty to his brother's memory died, leaving only ice in my veins.
The next morning, Cherrelle screamed that I'd tried to seduce him, and he stood by and let her. My own mother called to shame me. That was it. I drove to a cliff overlooking the ocean, pulled the SIM card from my phone, and snapped it in two. It was time for Cayla Bass to die. A Mission Forged in Torment
Fantasy My mother was dying, her laughter stolen by a rare disease. A cosmic system offered me a deal: travel to another world, make a man named Ethan Stone love me, and she would be cured. It seemed easy; Ethan was sweet, attentive, and kind at first.
But then, everything changed. Ethan became a monster, breaking up with me repeatedly, each time devising public, humiliating "tests" to win him back. From public apologies to standing in the pouring rain with a sign, I endured it all for my mother.
The "tests" escalated - a high-stakes, uninsured motorcycle jump over a canyon that left my leg shattered, a forced tequila chugging contest that ended with me violently retching, and being forced to slap myself senseless on my knees in front of him and his new "protégé," Brittany. The ultimate humiliation came when he forced me to donate a kidney to Brittany without anesthesia, dangling the promise of marriage as incentive.
I became numb, a puppet going through the motions. The love I once felt for him died, replaced by a profound emptiness. But the mission parameters were clear: get him to say he loved me, to commit, and my mother would be saved.
After enduring unimaginable physical and emotional torment, I finally secured his verbal confirmation. The system announced my mission was complete, and I returned to my own world, my mother miraculously healed. I started a new life, finally free. But my hard-won peace was shattered when Ethan, having traded everything, suddenly appeared, desperate to win me back. The Price of Deception, A Broken Man
Romance For three years, every ache in my artist' s hands, every mile on my delivery bike, every humiliating monster costume in a haunted escape room, had a purpose: Sophia.
"Her mother is sick," she' d told me, her eyes wet, "crushed by a mountain of medical debt."
So, I worked, pouring every dollar and ounce of my being into a future where her worry would finally vanish.
But on a Saturday night, lurking in the stale, fog-filled hall of that escape room, an emergency exit burst open, flooding the space with laughter.
And out stumbled Sophia, tangled up with a man, Liam, in an expensive suit, his hand possessively on her waist.
"My boyfriend is one of these poor, struggling types," she sneered, oblivious to my presence behind the flimsy foam mask. "An artist. It's almost cute, in a sad way. He thinks my mom's sick. The fool."
The world tilted. My vision blurred. She wasn' t just with another man; she was mocking my every sacrifice.
Then, a check for fifty thousand dollars, signed by Liam Davis, fluttered from her dropped purse.
I, the "starving artist," the "toy," the "fool," had been systematically fleeced, my love twisted into a sick joke.
The real Sophia – vibrant, passionate, and deeply in love with Liam – appeared on a security monitor, kissing him, shielding him from the camera, as employees whispered about their engagement.
"She' s been playing him this whole time," one said, a chilling confirmation of my shattered reality.
Her "mom," Evelyn Davis, Liam' s mother, appeared in a photograph on my nightstand - stark evidence of Sophia' s audacious lies.
"It' s over, Sophia," I whispered, broken, walking away from the screams and lies, embracing the cold, hard choice of letting go.
Now, stripped of everything, lost and collapsing on a wet street, I knew one thing: I was done waiting for her. From Fairy Tale To Broken Dream
Romance In everyone' s eyes, I was living a fairy tale: Ava Green, rising architect, with Liam Miller, the city' s most coveted real estate developer, by my side.
Three years into our perfect life, his phone buzzed, and a single name, "Chloe," shattered my world, revealing the meticulously crafted lie I' d been living.
He effortlessly dismissed our past, reducing me to an "old friend" before confessing I was merely a placeholder, a stand-in for the woman who owned his heart.
The bitter truth felt like a physical blow: my entire relationship was a secondhand experience, every compliment, every loving gesture, a mere reflection of her.
Trapped by his financial leverage over my ailing mother, I watched him erase me from his life, then realized I wouldn' t just survive his betrayal-I would meticulously plot my escape. No More Victim: Love's Dark Turn
Xuanhuan The last thing I saw in my first life was my sister Chloe' s enraged face, her hands squeezing the life out of me.
"This is your fault," she hissed, as my parents, Sarah and Richard, watched-my mother holding me down, my father glaring at me from beside the wrecked car.
They blamed me for everything: the cross-country road trip that was Chloe' s selfish whim, her high-risk pregnancy, and ultimately the fender bender that led to her premature labor and the loss of her baby.
Despite my warnings, they only saw my supposed jealousy and the money Chloe's rich husband, Ethan, offered.
"She was always a burden," my father' s cold voice was the last sound I heard before darkness consumed me.
Then, I gasped, my eyes flying open, the smell of turpentine filling my nose.
I was back in my art studio, unharmed, just as my phone began to ring.
It was Mom.
My blood ran cold; I knew this was the day they' d propose the trip. Every memory of their betrayal, their hatred, and my agonizing death flooded back.
This time, things would be different.
"Hello?" I answered, my voice steady.
"Ava? Finally," my mother' s impatient voice said. "Listen, dear, we have the most wonderful news."
A cold, quiet resolve settled over me. They wanted a pawn, a servant, a scapegoat, and they had gotten me killed for it once.
Now, I would give them what they wanted, and watch them choke on it. Called by the Token: Her True Mate
Xuanhuan The fluorescent hum of the county clerk's office was the soundtrack to my defiance.
I clutched the pen, ready to marry Liam Thorne, a man I' d run seven days and suppressed a blood-bound token for, all to rewrite a past that still haunted my reborn soul.
Before the ink could touch the paper, Liam snatched the license.
Rip.
My heart stopped.
"I have to marry Chloe first," he said, his words echoing the betrayal I remembered from a lifetime ago.
He spoke of a week, of saving Chloe' s reputation, but I remembered years in a damp root cellar, the loss of our children.
My blood-bound token throbbed as his guards abducted me, dragging me to his coastal estate.
There, Chloe, the cousin whose manipulations haunted my first life, paraded in my wedding gown, her triumph chilling.
With a staged cry and a splash of fake blood, she framed me.
Liam, blinded by her fake tears, roared, "Take her to the old root cellar!"
My nightmare was real again.
The sting of his slap echoed the cruelty of a past he seemed to have forgotten, but I hadn't.
Had he learned nothing?
Did he truly believe a week could erase my agony, our lost children, the years in that dark cellar?
The blood-bound token, suppressed for so long, now pulsed with a furious, undeniable call.
As the heavy door of that dreaded root cellar slammed shut, I finally let go.
No more running.
No more pretending.
My forced apology was a lie, a means to an end.
It was time for my people to find me.
It was time to go home.
And this time, I wouldn't be marrying him.
I was going home to Elijah. You might like
Jilted Wife Returns As A Billionaire Heiress
Paula Gardini Chloe had just given birth to twins, lying exhausted in a cramped, bustling hospital ward.
When she called her husband, Julian, he was busy partying with his actress mistress. He coldly hung up on her, having already drafted a brutal divorce agreement that would leave her with a pittance.
Strangers in the next bed loudly mocked her pitiful state, gossiping about how Julian was dumping her. For years, Chloe had erased her own identity to fit into his elite world, only to be thrown away like garbage. She was completely alone, clutching her helpless babies, bracing herself to sign the cruel papers just to survive.
She couldn't understand why her absolute devotion was met with such chilling indifference. Why did she have to suffer this ultimate humiliation while he celebrated with the woman who ruined her life?
But then, a senior doctor noticed a unique mole on her wrist and ran a secret DNA test. The results were staggering: Chloe was the long-lost daughter of the billionaire Beaumont family. With her fiercely protective parents and three powerful brothers suddenly forming an impenetrable fortress around her, Chloe picked up her phone and texted her arrogant husband.
"City Hall tomorrow at 10 AM. If you don't show up, my lawyer will handle everything. And trust me, you won't like their terms." The Runaway Wife: Hiding His Secret Triplets
Hen Bu Five years ago, I stood in the freezing rain at my mother's funeral, waiting for my husband.
Blake Knight, the billionaire NHL superstar, was two hours late. When he finally showed up, he brought his rumored girlfriend, the woman he had just rented a hotel rooftop for to celebrate her birthday.
Watching him defend her fake tears, my heart completely died. I took off my diamond wedding ring, placed it on my mother's headstone, and walked away from my marriage forever.
I fled to London, changed my name to Ava, and secretly raised the triplets he never knew existed. I thought I was finally safe from him.
But today, my kids vandalized a silver Aston Martin in our apartment's parking garage, and the owner caught my youngest daughter.
My phone rang. The voice on the other end was Blake's.
He had moved into my building, and he was holding my little girl in his penthouse, demanding her mother come get her immediately.
Panic suffocated me. If I walked through that door, my five years of hiding would be instantly destroyed. He would recognize me, realize I didn't get rid of our child like everyone thought, and he would use all his power to take my babies away.
I couldn't let him ruin my life again.
"I'm just her nanny," I lied through my teeth.
I frantically begged my best friend to go upstairs and rescue my daughter in my place. He bought the disguise, but now, the King of the Ice is dangerously obsessed with investigating my new identity. His Tamed Wife, The Wild Heiress
Whisper 119 She married him out of desperation, becoming the perfect docile wife while he treated her like dirt beneath his shoes. But everything shattered the night she overheard him mocking her with his friends-and discovered the necklace she'd cherished, her only link to the boy who once saved her life, didn't even belong to him.
It was all a lie.
No longer the doormat he married, she discards her fake identity and reclaims her birthright as the hidden heiress of Salvadore City. Now she's on a mission: find the necklace's true owner among his circle of friends, no matter how many hearts she has to break along the way.
But her husband isn't ready to let go. Convinced she's playing games to make him jealous, he's blindsided when divorce papers land in his hands. By the time he realizes the woman he dismissed was never who he thought she was, she's already moved on-living her truth, chasing her destiny, and leaving him choking on regret.
Some cages, once opened, can never be closed again. The Silent Heiress's Million Dollar Gambit
Maui My stepmother’s bodyguards were seconds away from dragging me back to a life that was essentially a prison cell wrapped in silk. I couldn't even scream for help because the words always died in my throat—a clinical condition called selective mutism that felt like drowning on dry land.
I had just discovered the sickening truth: my father was planning to sell me to a sleazy investor named Sterling to cover his company’s bankruptcy. They were going to drug me, ship me off to a private island, and strip away the only thing I had left—my late mother’s multimillion-dollar art trust.
When I arrived at the manor, my stepmother Lydia handed me a glass of wine laced with bitter sedatives, her smile sharp as a razor.
"Drink up, darling. It’ll make the transition to Mr. Sterling much easier."
My stepsister Harper stood in the corner, wearing a dress bought with my mother’s stolen money, mocking my inability to speak. My father didn't even look me in the eye as he calculated my price tag, treating his own daughter like a piece of damaged, mute inventory.
They thought because I didn't speak, I didn't hear them laughing about the "accident" that killed my mother or how they planned to burn her final restoration work. They assumed my silence was a sign of surrender, a white flag waved by a broken girl who would never fight back.
How could the people who were supposed to be my family treat me like a commodity to be traded? Did they really think my silence meant I was weak, or that I didn't know every dirty secret they were hiding in their ledgers?
I didn't drink the wine. Instead, I burst into the VIP suite of Carlisle Pierce, the most cold-blooded billionaire in New York, and slammed a crumpled napkin on his table with a desperate, last-second gambit.
"MARRY ME. NOW. $1 MILLION." The Neglected Wife's Vicious Comeback Game
Xiu Luo On our third anniversary, my husband canceled our dinner, claiming a sudden work emergency.
I tracked his phone to an exclusive French restaurant, only to find him tenderly fastening a blessed bracelet—one I had flown across the world to get for him—onto his college ex-girlfriend's wrist.
The sheer shock triggered a violent placental abruption. Bleeding out in my car just across the street, I frantically called his number. Through the window, I watched him glance at his screen, frown in annoyance, and press decline to focus on his lover. While I was wheeled into a freezing operating room for an emergency C-section utterly alone, he took his mistress back to our marital bed.
He didn't even bother to check if I was alive, completely oblivious that our premature daughter was fighting for her life in the NICU. I soon discovered our entire marriage was a sham. He had used my family's wealth to save his company, and now he was trading me to secure a massive business deal with his ex's father. The man I loved didn't exist; he only saw me as a disposable asset.
"I'm going to make him wish he had never been born."
After secretly securing my baby in a private retreat, I ordered a medical-grade silicone pregnancy belly to hide my flat stomach. I stepped back into our penthouse, ready to burn his precious empire to the ground. Fake Dating the Secret Billionaire Hockey Star
Fallen Nimbus My sister-in-law didn't want me to marry for love.
She wanted me to marry rich-so she could turn my husband into her personal ATM.
So I did the one thing guaranteed to ruin all her plans.
I got myself a broke hockey player.
At least, that's what everyone was supposed to believe.
Beckett Hayes needed a girlfriend badly. The Chicago hockey star had a reputation problem, angry sponsors, and too many headlines painting him as arrogant, reckless, and impossible to settle down. I needed a man convincing enough to stop my family from arranging my future for me.
Our solution was simple: fake date.
His rules were even simpler. Live in his shabby apartment. Help sell the struggling-player act. Smile for the cameras. No real feelings.
Easy.
Until my family showed up to mock the "loser" I'd chosen-and Beckett stepped between us like they had insulted something that belonged to him.
Until he put a no-limit black card in my hand and told me to stop sacrificing my dream of becoming an artist just because I was afraid to spend money.
Until our fake dinners started feeling domestic, his hand started finding mine under the table, and I began forgetting that every protective look and possessive touch was supposed to be part of the contract.
Then Beckett's grandfather arrived at our tiny apartment wearing cashmere, flanked by bodyguards, carrying a priceless Hayes family heirloom for me.
Apparently, pretending to be broke was the easy part.
Pretending I wasn't falling for my fake boyfriend was becoming impossible.
Especially when his grandfather took our only bedroom and left Beckett and me with one pullout sofa, one night, and absolutely nowhere left to hide. While I Was Bleeding Out, He Lit Lanterns For Her
Katie Oettgen As I lay on the floor of our manor, bleeding out from a ruptured ectopic pregnancy, I used my last ounce of strength to call my husband, Cole.
I begged him for help, my vision blurring.
But the only thing I heard was the clinking of champagne glasses and his mistress's giggle in the background.
"Stop the drama, June," Cole snapped, his voice cold. "We're about to go on stage. Don't call again."
He hung up, leaving me to die alone on the Persian rug while he accepted an award with another woman on his arm.
I woke up in the hospital days later. My baby was gone. They had removed my fallopian tube.
Cole finally arrived, smelling of expensive scotch and his mistress's perfume. He didn't hug me. He didn't cry.
Instead, he leaned over my hospital bed, pressing his knee into the mattress until my fresh stitches tore open and bled.
"You embarrassed me by calling an ambulance," he hissed. "My mistress, Alycia, says you're faking it. Clean yourself up."
He left me bleeding again to go announce a $10 million donation to Alycia's "groundbreaking" medical research.
I stared at the TV screen, numb. The research Alycia was taking credit for? It was mine. I wrote that patent years ago under a pseudonym.
They thought I was just a poor, orphan housewife who needed Cole's money to survive.
They had no idea I was actually a billionaire scientist hiding my identity.
I pulled the IV needle out of my arm. A drop of blood fell onto the divorce papers I had been hiding.
I didn't wipe it off. I signed my name right over it.
Then I walked into the bank, reactivated my dormant account with $128 million, and bought the penthouse directly overlooking Cole's house.
The mourning widow is dead. The avenger is born. The Ice Captain's Stolen Fiancée
Jasper Wren I was carefully folding a new silk nightgown, ready to fly to New York and surprise my fiancé of several years, Donald.
Then my phone pinged with a photo from my stepsister, Cindy. It was a high-resolution image of her and Donald, tangled together naked on messy bedsheets.
On his arm was the one-of-a-kind silver bracelet I had custom-designed for his birthday last month.
Cindy was staring right at the camera with a triumphant, provocative smile.
A second message popped up: "Omg, sis, so sorry! Sent that by accident!"
It was a blatant, mocking slap in the face.
Later, I even intercepted a call where Donald laughed with his mother about how my declining family was just a worthless stepping stone for them.
He called me a "boring, good girl" who was easy to manage, bragging that he would just go back to having his fun with Cindy right after our wedding.
They really thought I was just a naive fool who would either come crying to him or quietly swallow this humiliating betrayal.
They thought my silence meant I was weak and defeated.
But I didn't shed a single tear, nor did I scream.
A cold, sharp anger shot up my spine, extinguishing every last ember of heartbreak.
I threw the silk nightgown into the trash, opened my laptop, and used my MIT computer science background to hack straight into their luxury hotel suite's smart system.
I wasn't going to New York to cry.
I was going to broadcast their filthy affair to the entire city at the most prestigious charity gala of the year. Shielded By The Ruthless Military Boss
Mo Yufei I was an intern nurse working exhausting shifts, yet my mother constantly forced me into blind dates with wealthy, arrogant men to secure our family's social standing.
During a terrifying hospital lockdown, an assassin disguised as a doctor held a scalpel to my throat. I was almost killed, but a high-ranking military colonel threw his own body down a flight of concrete stairs to shield me.
I survived with cuts and bruises, but when I went home, my mother didn't care about my near-death experience. She was only furious that I had rushed out on my blind date with Preston, a rich financial analyst.
She forced me to meet him to apologize. When Preston grabbed my arm, bruised me, and mocked my attack as a pathetic lie, my mother still took his side.
"Men get angry," she told me coldly. "It's your job not to provoke them. You will beg for his forgiveness, or you are no longer welcome in this house."
I had narrowly escaped an assassin, yet my own family was willing to feed me to a monster just for a fat paycheck and neighborhood gossip.
My heart went completely dead.
So, when the intimidating Colonel appeared, offering me maximum military protection through a sudden marriage, I didn't hesitate.
I walked back into my parents' house and calmly slapped a crisp marriage certificate onto the coffee table.
"I won't be apologizing to Preston. I got married today." Betrayed Heiress: Marrying The Hockey King
Gu Chen I gave up my college dreams and spent every penny I had to support my boyfriend Boyce's NHL ambitions.
But as I lay dying in a damp hospital room, I called him begging for treatment money, only to hear his new girlfriend laughing on the line.
Boyce coldly called me a useless "Puck Bunny" and a convenient ATM before hanging up.
Moments later, his new girl Beryl called back to deliver a truth that shattered my reality.
"Do you know how you got sick? It wasn't an accident."
Boyce had deliberately arranged for me to be infected with HIV.
He thought I was too clingy, and this was the easiest way to get rid of me so he could chase his hockey dreams without baggage.
Just before I took my last breath, a man arrived to save me, sent by Case Hoover-a wealthy fiancé from an old family arrangement I had completely forgotten.
The irony was crushing. I had destroyed my life serving a monster who murdered me, while my actual fiancé tried to protect me.
I died in excruciating agony, my soul held together by nothing but pure, bottomless hatred.
Why was I so blind? Why did I give everything to a man with a heart blacker than a starless night?
Opening my eyes, I gasped for air, finding myself staring at my healthy, eighteen-year-old reflection in the mirror.
I was reborn in my senior year of high school.
This time, I wouldn't be his stepping stone; I was going to make him pay the ultimate price. 
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