Puffin
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Puffin's Books and Stories
Too Late To Beg: The Scapegoat's Revenge
Mafia In my previous life, I spent every waking moment cleaning up the messes of Dante Moretti, the heir to the Chicago Outfit.
I dragged him away from drugs and strippers just so he wouldn't miss his Initiation Ceremony.
Because of my loyalty, he became a Made Man.
But a year later, when he needed a scapegoat for his own incompetence, he didn't thank me.
He framed me for being a rat.
I was forced to watch my parents executed in front of me before I was thrown into a freezing solitary cell to rot.
The last thing I felt was the biting cold leeching the life from my body while he continued to live like a king.
I died realizing my love was just a weapon he used against me.
But when I blinked, the suffocating darkness dissolved into blinding strobe lights.
I was back in the club.
It was the night before his Initiation.
Dante stood in front of me, high and arrogant, demanding his car keys so he could go see a stripper named Roxy instead of preparing for his oath.
In the past, I begged him to stay. I saved his reputation.
This time, I looked at the man who murdered me and felt nothing but ice.
I pressed the keys into his hand.
"Go," I said, condemning him to his own destruction.
"Have the night of your life, Dante." Caught In His Web of Manipulation
Modern My genius boyfriend, Colten, was my savior. I was the "slow" girl he single-handedly tutored into NYU. He built my entire academic future, and I thought our love story was a fairytale.
But after I found another woman's birth control pills in his bag and caught him in lie after lie with his lab partner, Addisyn, I finally left him. The price was brutal: I failed every class and faced expulsion.
Desperate to save myself, I went back. I played the part of his sweet, obedient girlfriend, using his tutoring to ace my retake exams while secretly planning my escape to a new program.
The day my transfer was approved, he ambushed me with a public proposal. In front of a cheering crowd, he got on one knee with a diamond ring, ready to trap me in his perfect life forever.
"Will you marry me?" he asked, his voice full of triumph.
But before I could answer, a different woman stepped forward. It was Addisyn, and her hand was resting on her pregnant belly. Rejected for the Omega: The Alpha's Regret
Werewolf To the outside world, I was the envy of every she-wolf as the fiancée of Alpha Kael. But inside the gilded cage of his pack house, I was a ghost.
I molded myself into perfection for him, wearing the colors he liked and suppressing my own voice.
Until I walked past his study and saw him with Lyra—the orphan he called his "sister."
His hand rested intimately on her thigh as he laughed, telling her, "Elara is just a political necessity. You are the moon in my sky."
My heart shattered, but the physical blow came days later.
During a training exercise, the safety cable snapped. I fell twenty feet, shattering my leg.
Lying in the dirt, gasping through the pain, I watched my Fated Mate run.
Not to me.
He ran to Lyra, who was burying her face in his chest, feigning terror. He comforted her while I bled.
Later, in the infirmary, I heard him whisper to her, "She won't die. It will just teach her who the real Luna is."
He knew. He knew she had sabotaged the rope with silver, and he was protecting her attempted murder.
The final thread of my love incinerated into ash.
The next morning, I walked into the Council Hall, threw a thick file on the table, and looked the Elders in the eye.
"I am dissolving the engagement," I stated coldly. "And I am withdrawing my family's silver supply. I will starve this Pack until you beg."
Kael laughed, thinking I was bluffing. He didn't notice the lethal Beta from the rival pack standing in the shadows behind me, ready to help me burn Kael's kingdom to the ground. Married For Convenience, Loved In Death
Romance "Liam, let's get a divorce."
I said the words calmly, five years into being the perfect corporate wife to Liam Hayes, a man who married me for convenience, never love.
My life, carefully constructed on a transactional foundation, shattered when his high school sweetheart, Chloe Miller, returned, not just to reclaim her place in his life, but to tear down mine.
He publicly humiliated me at a charity gala, on a brightly lit stage in front of hundreds, announcing that our entire marriage was merely "a business arrangement."
He branded me a manipulative, jealous monster, accusing me of hiring thugs to attack Chloe, showcasing staged security footage as "proof."
The crowd stared, whispered, and judged, turning me into a national punchline, the "mistake" he was "correcting," while he embraced Chloe as his "true love."
Every eye in the ballroom burned with disgust, and my heart hammered with a raw mixture of shock, betrayal, and a deep, agonizing injustice.
I looked at him, across the sea of judging faces, and finally understood: there was nothing left to fight for, no trust to salvage.
"So, you want a divorce, Liam?" I asked, my voice steady, my decision made.
His cold, firm "Yes" was the final nail, but it was also my liberation; I would walk away, with everything I had secretly built, and leave his twisted world behind. His Lies, Our Undying Love
Billionaires My mother' s last breath was a promise from a man whose name was a myth: Mr. Sterling, my father.
He was supposed to take me in, but instead, I found myself an intruder in a mansion of glass and cold stone, an unwelcome "charity case" to the perfect, privileged twins, Olivia and Liam.
They treated me with disdain, their silent hostility a constant pressure, and at school, the whispers started.
"Chloe Sterling, the illegitimate daughter."
When Tiffany and her cronies began to torment me, physically and emotionally, I was utterly alone, abandoned by the very family I' d been sacrificed to.
Hope shattered, I thought I was nothing but collateral damage, a problem to disappear.
But in my deepest despair, they appeared – Olivia and Liam – no longer my tormentors but furious protectors, wielding a startling truth: my father wasn' t just cold, he was a monster who had crushed their dreams and stolen their inheritance.
Stripped bare, broken, they looked at me, an outsider with nothing left to lose, and whispered, "You have to be our weapon."
And in that moment, the ghost of a girl faded, replaced by a fierce resolve: I would dismantle his empire from within, not just for myself, but for the family he had tried to destroy. Rebuilding Life, Far Away
Romance The first thing Ava noticed on her fifth wedding anniversary was the suffocating silence, a stark contrast to the candlelit dinner she'd envisioned with Ethan.
Instead, he stood by the window, his back to her, and when he finally turned, his face was a mask of cold stone. He told her they weren' t going to their anniversary dinner.
On the table lay two stacks of paper: divorce papers, already signed by him, and a heavy, cream-colored envelope containing a wedding invitation-for her, to marry her childhood friend Liam. The words hit her with the force of a physical blow.
"I don't understand," she whispered, her hands trembling. How could he possibly believe she was in love with Liam, her best friend, who was simply a constant, steady presence in her life? He even showed her an Instagram post of their honeymoon, declaring her love for Ethan, as if to mock her oblivion.
A wave of dizziness washed over her. This wasn't real. It couldn't be. But as Ethan walked away, leaving behind the shattered sound of pottery from his studio, a cold dread settled in her stomach. Someone had put this idea in his head. Someone had done this to them, and Ava was about to find out who. My Coyote, My Vendetta
Mafia The static-laced call from Matthew was a punch to the gut.
He was my partner, my 'boyfriend,' and he was supposedly captured by El Martillo’s cartel.
He demanded I bring half a million dollars, alone, to a remote warehouse, promising it was the only way to save him.
I threw protocol out the window, raced through the Arizona heat, and walked into that dusty, desolate building, ready to face a cartel for him.
But Matthew wasn't tied up or bruised.
He was perfectly fine, and he took the money I’d risked my life for, handing it to El Martillo’s enforcer.
Then, with a chillingly calm voice, he pointed at me and said, "And here’s a bonus for El Martillo.
She’s a top-tier artist.
Now let me go."
The world tilted.
My partner, the man I thought I loved, had sold me out.
Before I could process the betrayal, his fist connected with my face, a brutal blow that knocked me to the ground.
El Martillo’s men closed in, ready for a "welcome party" that meant my agonizing end.
As their boots slammed into me, I saw a familiar tattoo on one of their necks—a coyote.
My coyote.
A design only one other person should know in such detail.
Hope, sharp and desperate, cut through the pain.
This wasn't the end.
This was the beginning of my real mission. My Sweet DC Life: A World Away From Him
Romance My world ended with a Dropbox link, a preview of what I thought was our wedding reel, a montage of the perfect love story Andrew and I had built from our foster home days to City Hall.
Instead, I found professional, high-resolution photos of Andrew with Molly Chavez, his intern, posing as the ideal political power couple, his hand possessively on her back, her face beaming at his side.
When Molly called, feigning an apology for a "mix-up," I heard Andrew' s voice in the background, clear as day: "She won't do anything. She needs me and this life."
That devastating line shattered me, making all his dismissals and forgotten promises click, revealing I was just a discarded relic of his past, not his partner.
But the Gabrielle he knew, the one who meekly accepted his condescension and believed she needed him, died right then; I picked up my phone, not to call him, but to call my lawyer, ready to draw up divorce papers, effective immediately. No More Tears for Him
Romance Five years ago, I gave everything – my dreams, my health, every last penny – to save the man I loved from a fatal heart condition.
I scrubbed pots on double shifts, my hands raw, convinced I was putting my love on the path to recovery.
But his fiancée, Jennifer, had other plans.
She showed him doctored photos, whispered lies, and made it seem like I was selling my body, not my soul, for him.
He believed her instantly, threw the money back in my face, and walked away, spitting that I deserved to rot.
Now, five years later, those words are a cold prophecy: my kidneys are failing, I have six months to live.
As I stumbled out of the free clinic, dizzy and broken, I saw him again-Ethan Scott, now a superstar music producer, stepping out of a luxury car with Jennifer, her hand protectively over a pregnant belly.
They were heading into the exclusive private hospital next door, a world away from my despair.
My body chose that moment to betray me; I collapsed, scattering my pills and medical records on the dirty sidewalk.
He stared down at me, his eyes colder than any winter, then watched as Jennifer ground her heel into my hand and had my lifeline swept into a trash can.
He even threw a crumpled twenty-dollar bill at my feet, declaring I was worth less than a donation to an animal shelter.
How could he believe such monstrous lies?
How could he, the man I sacrificed everything for, be so utterly blind to the truth of what I endured for him?
What secret did Jennifer hold over him that made him choose her cruel deception over the life-saving act I committed? The Five Hundred Thousand Dollar Lie
Romance Three years of playing my guitar until my fingers bled, enduring stale smoke and leering eyes in a Vegas lounge.
It was all for him, my fiancé Jax, to pay off a $500,000 debt that threatened his family's legacy.
Finally, the "contract" was fulfilled, the debt paid, and I was on my way home, dreaming of our reunion.
But when I reached our old apartment, it was empty, a foreclosure notice taped to the door.
Panic clawed at my throat as his phone went straight to voicemail, over and over.
Then, a notification from a music blog changed everything, showing Jax, my fiancé, beaming with Savannah Monroe at a high-profile Nashville party.
The caption: "Nashville's new power couple, Jax Thorne and Savannah Monroe, celebrate their groundbreaking merger."
My phone clattered to the dusty floor, my mind unable to grasp the words.
I stumbled to the penthouse address listed, only to overhear their voices dripping with casual cruelty.
"She'd do anything for me," Jax bragged, his voice cold, "Pure profit."
Savannah's syrupy drawl followed, "The loan shark? Seriously? You hired an out-of-work actor from Memphis."
My blood ran cold as the truth hit me: the debt, the loan shark, the three years of hell-all a lie, a twisted game orchestrated by the man I loved.
"Revenge," Jax hissed, "Her father stole a hit song from my dad. Ruined him. Drove him to suicide. I wanted her to feel what it was like to have everything taken away."
My entire life, my sacrifice, my love-it was all a setup, a cruel, elaborate joke.
His father was a jealous drunk, a gambler, and the 'stolen song' was a generous gift, not a theft.
I was a pawn in a revenge plot based on a lie, completely broken, with nothing left.
But as I stood there in the Nashville sun, clutching a small, crumpled piece of paper-a mysterious number for "a true emergency"-a desperate, fluttering hope ignited.
I had never used it.
With trembling hands, I dialed.
"Rothschild, private office."
The name echoed in my mind, a legend.
"I... I need to speak to Marcus Rothschild," I whispered, "It's an emergency." When Love Turns to Vengeance
Romance My marriage to Mark seemed solid, our life comfortable, until his college reunion.
I was there as the supportive wife, trying to ignore a growing unease.
Then I saw him, too close to Jessica, his high school sweetheart and now his sister-in-law.
The "Ten-Year Love Blueprint" he' d detailed for her-not me-was just the first blow.
That night, I found Jessica kissing my drunk husband in our home, then overheard the devastating truth: her son, Kevin, was Mark' s, not his brother' s.
My perfectly constructed life imploded as Mark dismissed my pain and his mother furiously defended his affair.
A reckless car crash, caused by Jessica, led to my miscarriage; Mark, shockingly, blamed me, then his mother coldly announced, "You weren't strong enough."
Even my own parents, dependent on Mark's generous support, disowned me for daring to expose his betrayal.
Abandoned and broken, the injustice was crushing: how could everyone I loved betray me so completely, leaving me a disposable substitute in a life that was never truly mine?
The agony of losing everything, especially my baby, felt unbearable.
But a fateful accident unexpectedly offered a dark opportunity for ultimate escape and rebirth, transforming me into a vengeful phantom armed with a meticulous plan for absolute justice. From Jilted Fiancée to President's Enforcer
Modern The champagne flute felt colder than the ballroom air at my lavish engagement party to Senator Ethan Prescott, D.C.'s golden boy.
In my first life, this night had been a triumph.
But tonight, Isabella Vance, Ethan' s mistress, brazenly crashed the party, heavily pregnant and dramatically announcing, "Ethan, this baby is yours."
Chaos swallowed the room; cameras flashed, but I felt a chilling calm.
In my previous life, this betrayal had led to my career' s ruin, a faked scandal, and a lonely "accident" – Ethan and Izzy' s masterpiece of destruction.
Back then, I was broken; now, I simply placed my flute down and announced, clear-eyed and cold, "Our engagement is over."
They continued their facade, building a new narrative and trying to publicly shame me at a White House State Dinner.
Ethan mocked me, Izzy sneered at my simple dress, and their cronies tried to have me escorted out, believing I was a pathetic ghost from their past.
They thought I was weak, a broken woman clinging to the fringes of their brilliant new lives.
Every condescending word, every dismissive glance, was a fresh wound, a reminder of the injustice that had cost me everything.
Did they truly think I'd just vanish?
My heart, once shattered, was now a block of ice, focused solely on retribution.
This time, I was no one's pawn.
Just as they tried to completely discredit me, President Thompson himself appeared, announcing my true status as his "most trusted advisor," shielding me with the full weight of his office.
My father's legacy, my own history saving the President's life, suddenly became my indisputable shield and sword.
The real game had just begun. Thorne's Penance, Elara's Triumph
Romance I once believed Reverend Thorne was my savior.
Found freezing in the remote Alabama woods at five, abandoned by my own cruel mother, he offered me a home, a fragile hope within the church orphanage.
But that hope shattered when, at eighteen, he learned of my innocent affection.
Fearing scandal, he sent me on a deadly mission, deep into the dangerous Ozark Mountains-a place guarded by hostile hermits. He knew it was a death sentence.
I died a brutal death, but my spirit lingered, unseen.
I watched as he dismissed my murder, slandered my memory, and even married my cruel half-sister, Seraphina.
My very essence was erased, my final desperate pleas unheard, my ghost cast out as "evil." Every shred of dignity, every memory of kindness, was crushed.
How could a man I idolized, who once offered salvation, betray me so utterly? Why was my tormentor allowed triumph while I faded into oblivion?
But then, a chilling miracle: I awoke, a child once more, with every agonizing memory intact.
The same frozen woods, the same false savior offering his hand.
This time, I ran.
This time, I refuse to be a victim.
My second life begins now, and this time, I choose my own path to healing, love, and a justice far sweeter than revenge. You might like
Rejected by the Son, I Chose the Don
Rabbit On my wedding day, my father sold me to the Chicago Outfit to pay his debts. I was supposed to marry Alex Moreno, the heir to the city's most powerful crime family. But he couldn't even be bothered to show up.
As I stood alone at the altar, humiliated, my best friend delivered the final blow. Alex hadn't just stood me up; he had run off to California with his mistress.
The whispers in the cathedral turned me into a joke. I was damaged goods, the rejected bride. His family knew the whole time and let me take the public fall, offering me his cousins as pathetic replacements-a brute who hated me or a coward who couldn't protect me.
The humiliation burned away my fear, leaving only cold rage. My life was already over, so I decided to set the whole game on fire myself. The marriage pact only said a Carlson had to marry a Moreno; it never said which one.
With nothing left to lose, I looked past the pathetic boys they offered.
I chose the one man they never expected.
I chose his father, the Don himself.
My Husband's Brother Owns My Secret
Rabbit My marriage to Joshua Caldwell was a prison sentence. I was a Hartman trophy, sold to the powerful family who had destroyed mine.
Then I discovered he was cheating. His mistress was pregnant with the child he denied me, and he was stealing my secret song lyrics to build her career. When I confronted him, he called me a spineless liability and threatened to destroy what was left of my family.
To make matters worse, a one-night stand with a stranger turned out to be with my husband's brother, Anthony Caldwell-the Don of the city. He knew all of Joshua's secrets and used them to trap me in a twisted game, seeing me as nothing more than an asset.
They both thought I was a broken doll they could control.
I wrote a song for his mistress, a beautiful execution with a single, impossible note I knew would destroy her voice.
She sang it, and now her career is over.
Now the Don has summoned me to Chicago, not knowing the woman he thinks is his asset is the one who just burned his brother's world to the ground. He Erased Me, I Erased Him First
Lan Zhen On the night of my career-defining art exhibition, I stood completely alone. My husband, Dante Sovrano, the most feared man in Chicago, had promised he wouldn’t miss it for the world. Instead, he was on the evening news.
He was shielding another woman—his ruthless business partner—from a downpour, letting his own thousand-dollar suit get soaked just to protect her. The headline flashed below them, calling their new alliance a "power move" that would reshape the city.
The guests at my gallery immediately began to whisper. Their pitying looks turned my greatest triumph into a public spectacle of humiliation. Then his text arrived, a cold, final confirmation of my place in his life: “Something came up. Isabella needed me. You understand. Business.”
For four years, I had been his possession. A quiet, artistic wife kept in a gilded cage on the top floor of his skyscraper. I poured all my loneliness and heartbreak onto my canvases, but he never truly saw my art. He never truly saw me. He just saw another one of his assets.
My heart didn't break that night. It turned to ice. He hadn't just neglected me; he had erased me.
So the next morning, I walked into his office and handed him a stack of gallery contracts.
He barely glanced up, annoyed at the interruption to his empire-building. He snatched the pen and signed on the line I’d marked.
He didn’t know the page tucked directly underneath was our divorce decree.
He had just signed away his wife like she was nothing more than an invoice for art supplies. The Mafia King's Runaway Genius Wife
Huo Wuer I was married to the Dark Don of New York, but to the Trevino family, I was just collateral.
While I was suffering from agonizing acute appendicitis, my husband forced me out into the freezing rain just to watch him parade his mistress in front of the city's elite.
When I handed him the annulment papers and begged for my freedom, he coldly burned them to ashes right in front of my face.
He watched me collapse on the floor in blinding pain, completely ignoring my deathly pale skin.
"Stop this pathetic performance. If you aren't ready for the gala by seven, I will throw your grandfather into a state facility."
His mistress even mocked my illness, handing me raw oysters with a victorious smirk while he looked at me with pure disgust.
I finally understood that in this gilded cage, my life meant absolutely nothing to him.
If I stayed, I would die here—either from a ruptured appendix or from his suffocating cruelty.
So, I took a heavy dose of painkillers, threw my diamond ring into the river, and emptied the family's hidden safe.
When he finally cornered me in a dark alley to drag me back, I shoved the real annulment papers into his chest.
"Touch me, and I will scream until every rat in this city hears me."
I stepped into the getaway cab, taking the master copies of his smuggling ledgers with me.
It was time to burn his empire to the ground. Reborn From Fire: The Ex-wife's Revenge
Lunacy Heidi gripped the sterile hospital bedsheets as violent contractions ripped her body apart.
The heavy door opened, but it wasn't the doctor. It was Brigette, wearing the exact custom wedding dress Heidi had spent six months designing for herself.
Brigette held up her phone on speaker. When the doctor warned that a natural delivery would kill the mother, Christian Page's voice echoed through the room, ice-cold and devoid of any warmth.
"Prioritize the Page heirs. Let her die."
The man she loved had just signed her death warrant over the phone.
Brigette stole her newborn twins, dragged her to an abandoned warehouse, and poured gasoline over her bare legs.
Flicking a lit cigar into the puddle, Brigette left Heidi tied to an iron pillar to burn alive.
But as the flames formed a deadly circle around her, Heidi's body convulsed with a terrifying truth.
In the heart of the blazing inferno, she miraculously gave birth to two more babies she didn't know she was carrying.
Using her own back as a human shield against the falling embers, she survived the fire, but the ultimate betrayal burned deeper than her ruined skin.
Four years later, Heidi returned to New York with a reconstructed face, two brilliant children, and a terrifying new identity as the world's top underground surgeon.
When Christian, entirely unaware of who she was, signed a waiver begging her to save his dying grandfather's life, Heidi looked into his desperate eyes with absolute, clinical boredom.
"The game starts now," she said coldly. His Vow Broke, Her Empire Woke
Hei Baidong I was the perfect Mafia wife, my dowry the foundation of my husband's ambition. I paid for his Yale degree, his tailored suits, and the very mansion he called his own. My reward? He paraded his mistress into my bedroom and declared her his second wife, expecting me to silently finance their affair.
They thought they had broken a merchant's daughter. They forgot I was raised by wolves.
Armed with a blood chit—a life debt owed to my family by the most feared man in Chicago—I walked into the lion's den. I went to Damien 'The Wraith' Falcone, the Dark Don who rules the Outfit with an iron fist, to demand a simple annulment.
But the King of Chicago isn't interested in simple transactions. He saw the steel beneath my silk, the vendetta burning in my eyes. He granted me my freedom, but at a price: my allegiance. Now, I'm a pawn in his lethal game of thrones, caught between a treacherous husband I swore to destroy and a ruthless Don who looks at me with a terrifying, possessive hunger.
In a city built on loyalty and betrayal, I'm about to teach them all that a queen's wrath is the deadliest weapon of all. Betrayed, I Married the Feared Cripple
Hu Minxue Three days after my fiancé publicly dumped me for my stepsister, the Supreme Don issued a command that silenced the entire estate.
I wasn't being cast aside. I was being sold to Damien Russo.
The "Broken Don." A crippled, scarred monster rumored to have murdered his last two wives.
My adoptive mother, Elena, didn't cry for me. She smirked.
To her, I was finally being disposed of.
She was so confident I was walking to my death that she decided to loot my corpse before I even left.
She forged documents to steal my entire inheritance—my biological mother’s trust fund—to pay for my stepsister’s lavish wedding to my ex.
"She won't need money where she's going," my stepsister laughed, wearing a dress bought with my stolen funds.
They thought they were sending a lamb to the slaughter.
They thought I was too weak, too stupid, and too afraid of the monster to fight back.
But they made a fatal mistake.
With my aunt’s help, I didn't just find the proof of their embezzlement; I found a weapon.
I’m not running from the monster. I’m going to marry him.
And when I hand him the evidence that the Herrera family stole from his bride, he won't be my executioner.
He will be my vengeance. 
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