Qing Bao
10 Published Stories
Qing Bao's Books and Stories
From Devoted Wife To Indifferent Stranger
Romance The official report said my husband, Liam, a heroic smokejumper, died saving me from a wildfire.
Pregnant and heartbroken, I tried to end my life, only to wake in a hospital bed, the world a muffled blur of pain and grief.
Then, a voice cut through the fog – Liam's. He was alive, outside my room, telling a buddy the "story was solid" and everyone thought he was dead. My world didn't just burn; it was pure, calculated arson.
I heard him choose Claire, his twin brother's fragile fiancée, over me, his pregnant wife, dismissing my suffering with a chilling "Ava has Noah.
She has her family. They'll take care of her." He planned to assume his deceased brother's identity and money, all for her.
The man I worshipped, the hero, was a cold, calculating stranger who had discarded me and our unborn child for another woman.
Every memory, every shared dream, turned to ash in that hospital room.
Lying there, the old Ava died. A new one was forged in betrayal and ice, and the first act of this new woman was to accept my childhood friend Noah's long-standing marriage proposal, right under Liam's nose. The game was far from over. Her Final Act of Vengeance
Modern My husband, Conrad, pulled me from the abyss after my brother died, saving me when I had nothing. He promised to protect me forever. But for ten years, his endless affairs and cruel mind games have been a slow poison, leaving me with a terminal illness and a broken spirit.
The final blow came on our tenth anniversary. He gave my gift-an emerald necklace I' d dreamed of since our honeymoon-to his mistress, Aubrey.
But that wasn't enough. He then gave her the last piece of my brother I had left: his final symphony. She scribbled on the pages, used them as a coaster, and called his life's work "garbage."
As my body failed, I realized the man who swore to save me had weaponized my deepest traumas to destroy me. My love curdled into a cold, quiet rage.
Now, drowning in guilt, he has destroyed Aubrey to atone for his sins. He kneels by my deathbed, begging for forgiveness, promising to do anything to earn it.
He has no idea my final act of revenge requires his absolute devotion.
And his life. His Life Hung By My Hands
Modern My fiancé and my cousin destroyed my life. Their betrayal led to my mother's suicide and my grandmother's death. They framed me for arson, and I went to prison.
Three years later, I' m a trauma surgeon. The ER doors burst open, and there he was, carrying her in his arms. She was pregnant, and she was bleeding out.
He begged me to save them.
"Save her, Alana. Please. Save them both."
Then he accused me of wanting revenge, his eyes filled with hate.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
The man who took everything from me was now on his knees, his world depending on my skill. I was the only one who could save the woman who stole my life.
I did my job. I saved them both. But as I walked out of the hospital that night, his car was there, blocking my path. This wasn't just a chance encounter. He was back to reclaim what he thought was his. The Rejected Luna: Rise of the White Wolf Queen
Werewolf As the Luna of the Silver Moon Pack, I thought my Fated Mate bond with Alpha Liam was unbreakable.
That was until Ava Sinclair walked into the banquet hall, pregnant, and Liam used his Alpha Command to force me to my knees in front of the whole pack, choosing his mistress over me.
The violence of his rejection didn't just break my heart; it killed the unborn pup I hadn't even told him about yet.
When I tried to escape the toxicity, Liam hunted me down and chained me in a dungeon with silver cuffs, desperate to keep me as a "backup" while he played house with Ava.
It took him two years to realize Ava was carrying a rogue's bastard, not his heir.
Suddenly, the arrogant Alpha was the victim, kneeling in the dirt at the Solstice Festival, offering me a massive diamond ring and begging for a second chance.
He thought he could buy forgiveness. He thought I was still his broken little wife.
But I didn't reach for the ring.
I turned to the female warrior standing beside me—the one who had lifted a collapsing stone pillar to save my life while Liam was busy destroying it.
I interlaced my fingers with hers and looked down at my ex-mate.
"You ask why I choose her?" I said, my voice ringing across the silent plaza.
"Because while you were building my cage, Liam, Seraphina was becoming my sky." My Perfect Marriage, His Deadly Secret
Romance For three months, I was the perfect wife to tech billionaire Axel Delacruz. I thought our marriage was a fairy tale, and the welcome dinner for my new internship at his company was supposed to be a celebration of our perfect life.
That illusion shattered when his beautiful, unhinged ex, Diana, crashed the party and stabbed him in the arm with a steak knife.
But the real horror wasn't the blood. It was the look in my husband's eyes. He cradled his attacker, whispering a single, tender word meant only for her:
"Always."
He stood by as she held a knife to my face to carve off a beauty mark she claimed I'd copied from her. He watched as she threw me into a kennel with starving dogs, knowing it was my deepest fear. He let her have me beaten, let her shove gravel down my throat to ruin my voice, and let her men break my hand in a door.
When I called him one last time, begging for help as a group of men closed in, he hung up on me.
Trapped and left for dead, I threw myself out of a second-story window. As I ran, bleeding and broken, I made a call I hadn't made in years.
"Uncle Francisco," I sobbed into the phone. "I want a divorce. And I want you to help me destroy him."
They thought they married a nobody. They had no idea they'd just declared war on the Wallace family. My Alpha's New Luna: Stolen Life, Forsaken Mate
Werewolf After five years trapped in a cursed slumber, I finally woke up. The first thing I did was follow the scent of my mate, my Alpha, Kaelen.
I found him in his office, kissing another woman—a mousy Omega I barely recognized. He told me she meant nothing, that she was just there to soothe his grief. Like a fool, I believed him.
But when I went to the pack's Hall of Records, the elder told me I had been declared legally dead three years ago. The petition was signed by my own parents and executed by Kaelen. He had already chosen a new Luna: her.
My own son told me I should have stayed dead. He said the other woman was nicer and should be his mother.
Then, the woman who replaced me tried to kill me, pulling me off a cliff into a raging river. Kaelen dove in, swam right past my outstretched hand, and saved her.
Lying paralyzed in a hospital bed, I was forced to listen as Kaelen used his Alpha's Command to order a blood transfusion to save her life. He never even asked who the donor was. He just demanded they drain my life to save his chosen mate.
As my life drained away, I saw my entire family—my mate, my parents, my son—gathered around her bed, a perfect picture of happiness. That's when I finally understood. Waking up was a mistake. My only path forward was to disappear and pray they would never find the ghost I was about to become. Love Lost, Life Fading
Romance Ava Jenkins stared at her reflection in the darkened bus window, a stranger looking back. Her fiery red hair and loud clothes screamed for attention, but inside, she carried a secret heavier than a brick: Idiopathic Pulmonary Arterial Hypertension. Her heart was failing, and there was no cure. She just needed to see him, Liam Hayes, her distant uncle, one last time.
Her world shattered when his mother, Martha, slammed an engagement announcement into her chest: Liam was marrying Chloe, Martha's own daughter. The boy who had once comforted her with candy at her father' s funeral, who had been her sole source of light, was now lost to her-and worse, he didn't even remember her.
Desperate, she confronted Liam, only to be met with cold disdain. He pushed her away, repeatedly, with cruel words, accusing her of being pathetic, attention-seeking, and a disgrace. Even when her beloved Grandma Rose lay dying due to Martha's greed, Liam, a renowned lawyer, chose to represent Martha in court, effectively sending Ava to prison, crushing her last shred of hope.
Liam's constant rejection and disbelief-even when she told him she was dying-left her utterly bewildered. How could the person she loved most, the one who taught her kindness, become so full of hatred and indifference towards her? Why did he believe everyone else but her?
Lying in a hospital bed, medically paroled and close to death, Ava made a final, heartbreaking decision: she would let Liam believe he had saved her out of guilt, giving him a clean conscience, and then slip away quietly, finally finding the peace he had always denied her. Revenge On My Deceptive Bride
Xuanhuan The cold prickle of the lethal injection syringe was my last sensation.
Then, I gasped, choking on air, my lungs burning as I shot upright in my own bed.
It was the morning of the day my life ended the first time.
Framed for a brutal hit-and-run, I' d watched my family crumble and my fiancée, Chloe, look on with pity-filled eyes.
Now, the date on my phone confirmed it. I was back.
A soft knock, and Chloe stood in the doorway, smiling.
Her presence, once comforting, now sent a jolt of pure fear through me.
I remembered the courtroom, her sorrowful gaze-it felt like a prelude to my personal hell.
"Leo, you awake? I made breakfast."
Her voice dripped with concern, a perfect performance.
My instinct screamed: change everything.
I told her I wasn' t feeling well, cancelling the fateful drive.
Her smile flickered, a micro-expression of annoyance I' d missed before.
Hours later, I heard her hushed voice from the living room, tight with frustration.
"No, he didn' t go," she hissed. "The point is to ruin him, whether he' s on the coast road or sitting on his damn couch. Find another way."
My world tilted. The woman I was to marry was plotting my destruction.
The cold dread of betrayal numbed me, then a white-hot rage ignited.
I bolted, my mind a blur. I had to run, to put distance, to survive.
But she was standing there, a fresh smile on her face.
"Feeling better?" she asked.
I pushed past her, fumbling with the lock, her voice calling my name echoing like a curse.
I ran until I hit the street and called my best friend, Matt.
He picked me up, confused but loyal.
I told him Chloe was setting me up, omitting the rebirth.
"Chloe? She adores you. Maybe you misunderstood."
"I didn' t misunderstand, Matt! I heard her. She said, 'The point is to ruin him.' "
He believed me, taking me to his apartment, the safest place on Earth.
I hoped I had dodged the bullet.
Then the news broke.
"Police in Oceanville are searching for a suspect in a violent hit-and-run that occurred just an hour ago on Seaside Boulevard."
My blood froze. Seaside Boulevard was nowhere near the coast road.
But the face on the screen was mine.
LEO VANCE. Wanted. Dangerous.
My beer bottle shattered.
"Leo," Matt whispered, his face pale. "What the hell is this?"
Confusion turned to anger. "You lied to me! You were driving! You involved me in this!"
The sirens wailed. They had found us.
Just like before. The trap wasn' t a location; it was a narrative.
And it had snapped shut around me again. A Scholar's Fury: The Road to Justice
Young Adult Jessica Peterson, my classmate and rival for that scholarship, smiled her fake bright smile and invited me on a weekend trip. I was top of my class, but finals had me wound tight, and a break sounded too good to pass up.
One too-sweet soda later, everything went black. I woke up on a stained mattress in a dilapidated farmhouse, the air thick with mold and fear. Not a relaxing getaway, but a nightmare. My "friend" Jessica hadn't just abandoned me; she' d sold me to the brutish Miller family as a forced bride, all for a broken-down pickup truck and a job for one of their leering sons.
My pleas were met with kicks and sneers. When I tried to escape, I was dragged back, bruised and battered. A passing neighbor dismissed my desperate cries for help, thinking I was a delirious runaway, disbelieving me because of my mud-streaked, disheveled appearance. Even my own cousin, who briefly heard my muffled screams, was fooled by the Millers' slick lies. My academic future, my university dreams, all seemed destined to turn into an endless nightmare in this backwoods hell.
How could Jessica, my childhood friend, trade my entire life, my freedom, for a rusty old truck? The sheer, horrifying injustice of it was a bitter, burning rage in my gut. Why me? Why this?
But then a flicker of recognition cut through the despair. This place, this county, was my Grandpa John' s homeland – where he was Sheriff for forty years, where his name still carried immense weight. With that realization, a new strength surged. I might be trapped, but I was Sarah, Sheriff John' s granddaughter. And if I could just get a message out, everyone who wronged me-Jessica, her family, and the Millers-would regret it. Every. Single. One. Of. Them. You might like
Flash Marriage To My Best Friend's Father
Madel Cerda I was once the heiress to the Solomon empire, but after it crumbled, I became the "charity case" ward of the wealthy Hyde family. For years, I lived in their shadows, clinging to the promise that Anson Hyde would always be my protector.
That promise shattered when Anson walked into the ballroom with Claudine Chapman on his arm. Claudine was the girl who had spent years making my life a living hell, and now Anson was announcing their engagement to the world.
The humiliation was instant. Guests sneered at my cheap dress, and a waiter intentionally sloshed champagne over me, knowing I was a nobody. Anson didn't even look my way; he was too busy whispering possessively to his new fiancée. I was a ghost in my own home, watching my protector celebrate with my tormentor.
The betrayal burned. I realized I wasn't a ward; I was a pawn Anson had kept on a shelf until he found a better trade. I had no money, no allies, and a legal trust fund that Anson controlled with a flick of his wrist.
Fleeing to the library, I stumbled into Dallas Koch—a titan of industry and my best friend’s father. He was a wall of cold, absolute power that even the Hydes feared.
"Marry me," I blurted out, desperate to find a shield Anson couldn't climb.
Dallas didn't laugh. He pulled out a marriage agreement and a heavy fountain pen.
"Sign," he commanded, his voice a low rumble. "But if you walk out that door with me, you never go back."
I signed my name, trading my life for the only man dangerous enough to keep me safe. He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him
SHANA GRAY The sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her.
Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. "Mr. Kensington," the nurse's voice cracked, "your wife... she's critical." A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. "Liam is in the shower," Seraphina's voice purred. "Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low." Then, Liam's bored voice: "If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning." Click. The line went dead.
A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living.
Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body.
Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back. After Divorce: My Arrogant Ex Regrets Calling Me Trash
Sea Jet Aurora woke up to the sterile chill of her king-sized bed in Sterling Thorne's penthouse. Today was the day her husband would finally throw her out like garbage. Sterling walked in, tossed divorce papers at her, and demanded her signature, eager to announce his "eligible bachelor" status to the world.
In her past life, the sight of those papers had broken her, leaving her begging for a second chance. Sterling's sneering voice, calling her a "trailer park girl" undeserving of his name, had once cut deeper than any blade. He had always used her humble beginnings to keep her small, to make her grateful for the crumbs of his attention. She had lived a gilded cage, believing she was nothing without him, until her life flatlined in a hospital bed, watching him give a press conference about his "grief."
But this time, she felt no sting, no tears. Only a cold, clear understanding of the mediocre man who stood on a pedestal she had painstakingly built with her own genius.
Aurora signed the papers, her name a declaration of independence. She grabbed her old, phoenix-stickered laptop, ready to walk out. Sterling Thorne was about to find out exactly how expensive "free" could be. One Night With My Billionaire Boss
Nathaniel Stone I woke up on silk sheets that smelled of expensive cedar and cold sandalwood, a world away from my cramped apartment in Brooklyn.
Beside me lay Ezra Gardner—my boss, the billionaire CEO of Gardner Holdings, and the man who could end my career with a snap of his fingers.
He didn’t offer an apology for the night before; instead, he looked at me with terrifying clarity and proposed a cold, calculated business arrangement.
"Marriage. It stabilizes the board and solves the PR crisis before it begins."
He dressed me in archival Chanel and sent me home in his Maybach, but my life was already falling apart. My boyfriend, Irving, claimed he had passed out early, yet his location data placed him at my best friend’s apartment until three in the morning. When I tried to run, I realized Ezra was already ten steps ahead, tracking my movements and uncovering the secret I’d spent twenty years hiding: my connection to the powerful Senator Grimes.
I was trapped between a CEO who treated me like a line item on a quarterly report and a boyfriend who had been using me while sleeping with my closest friend. I felt like a pawn in a game I didn't understand, wondering why a man like Ezra would walk up forty flights of stairs on a broken leg just to make sure I was safe.
"Showtime, Mrs. Gardner."
Standing on the red carpet in a gown that cost more than my life, I watched my cheating ex-boyfriend’s face turn pale as Ezra claimed me in front of the world. I wasn't just an assistant anymore; I was a weapon, and it was time to burn their world down. His Twisted Game, My Dangerous Love
Elroy Notman Vesper's marriage to Julian Sterling was a gilded cage. One morning, she woke naked beside Damon Sterling, Julian's terrifying brother, then found a text: Julian's mistress was pregnant. Her world shattered, but the real nightmare had just begun.
Julian's abuse escalated, gaslighting Vesper, funding his secret life. Damon, a germaphobic billionaire, became her unsettling anchor amidst his chaos.
As "Iris," Vesper exposed Julian's mistress, Serena Sharp, sparking brutal war: poisoned drinks, a broken leg, and the horrifying truth-Julian murdered her parents, trapping Vesper in marriage.
The man she married was a killer. Broken and betrayed, Vesper was caught between monstrous brothers, burning with injustice.
Refusing victimhood, Vesper reclaimed her identity. Fueled by vengeance, she allied with Damon, who vowed to burn his empire for her. Julian faced justice, but matriarch Eleanor's counterattack forced Vesper's choice as a hitman aimed for her. HIS DOE, HIS DAMNATION(An Erotic Billionaire Romance)
Viviene Trigger/Content Warning:
This story contains mature themes and explicit content intended for adult audiences(18+). Reader discretion is advised.
It includes elements such as BDSM dynamics, explicit sexual content, toxic family relationships, occasional violence and strong language.
This is not a fluffy romance. It is intense, raw and messy, and explores the darker side of desire.
*****
"Take off your dress, Meadow."
"Why?"
"Because your ex is watching," he said, leaning back into his seat. "And I want him to see what he lost."
••••*••••*••••*
Meadow Russell was supposed to get married to the love of her life in Vegas. Instead, she walked in on her twin sister riding her fiance.
One drink at the bar turned to ten. One drunken mistake turned into reality. And one stranger's offer turned into a contract that she signed with shaking hands and a diamond ring.
Alaric Ashford is the devil in a tailored Tom Ford suit. Billionaire CEO, brutal, possessive. A man born into an empire of blood and steel.
He also suffers from a neurological condition-he can't feel. Not objects, not pain, not even human touch.
Until Meadow touches him, and he feels everything. And now he owns her. On paper and in his bed.
She wants him to ruin her. Take what no one else could have. He wants control, obedience... revenge.
But what starts as a transaction slowly turns into something Meadow never saw coming.
Obsession, secrets that were never meant to surface, and a pain from the past that threatens to break everything.
Alaric doesn't share what's his.
Not his company.
Not his wife.
And definitely not his vengeance.
Broken Ring, Billionaire Secrets: Watch Me Shine
Cornelia I sat on the edge of the examination table, the crinkle of the sanitary paper sounding like thunder in the sterile room. The doctor didn't even look at me as he confirmed the news: the pregnancy was over. My husband, Keyon, didn't answer my call. He just sent an automated text: "In a meeting."
When I returned to our cold mansion, I found his iPad glowing with a message from his "muse," Katina. He was throwing her a secret gala tonight-on our third wedding anniversary. He told her he couldn't wait to escape the "boring" and "draining" atmosphere I created at home.
Keyon didn't stumble in until 3 AM, smelling of Katina's perfume with a smear of red on his collar. When I handed him the divorce papers, he laughed in my face. He called me a "glorified housekeeper" with no skills and no future, promising I'd be back in three days begging for a subway ticket. He even bet his friends ten thousand dollars that I wouldn't survive a week without his name.
He had his assistant cancel my credit cards and block my gate access before I even reached the end of the driveway. He wanted me to starve. He wanted me to crawl. He sat in his office, mocking the "desperate" woman who pawned her three-million-dollar wedding ring for scrap metal just to pay for a meal.
I stood on the rainy curb, watching the man I had protected for three years treat my life like trash. He didn't know about the ultrasound I just threw in the bin. He didn't know that while he was calling me "dull," I was the one secretly writing the code that kept his billion-dollar empire from collapsing.
As I slid into a cheap Uber, I opened a hidden, encrypted app on my phone. The screen refreshed to a dashboard for an account Keyon didn't know existed. The balance was ten figures long-the accumulated wealth of "Solaris," the world's most elusive tech genius. Keyon thinks he just evicted a parasite, but he's about to find out he just declared war on the only person who can hit "delete" on his entire life. Reborn Rich, My Vengeance Rises
Rabbit My husband, Ethan Vance, made me his trophy wife. My best friend, Susanna Thorne, helped me pick out my wedding dress. Together, they made me a fool.
For three years, I was Mrs. Ethan Vance, a decorative silence in his billion-dollar world, living a quiet routine until a forgotten phone charger led me to his office.
The low, feminine laugh from behind his door was a gut-punch; inside, I found Ethan and Susanna, my "best friend" and his CMO, tangled on his sofa, his only reaction irritation.
My divorce declaration brought immediate scorn and threats. I was fired, my accounts frozen, and publicly smeared as an unstable gold-digger. Even my own family disowned me for my last cent, only for me to be framed for assault and served a restraining order.
Broke, injured, and utterly demonized, they believed I was broken, too ashamed to fight. But their audacious betrayal and relentless cruelty only forged a cold, unyielding resolve.
Slumped alone, a restraining order in hand, I remembered my hidden journal: a log of Ethan's insider trading secrets. They wanted a monster? I would show them one. My Husband's Blindness, My Sweet Revenge
Winnie Suchoff The roasted lamb was cold, a reflection of her marriage. On their third anniversary, Evelyn Vance waited alone in her Manhattan penthouse. Then her phone buzzed: Alexander, her husband, had been spotted leaving the hospital, holding his childhood sweetheart Scarlett Sharp's hand.
Alexander arrived hours later, dismissing Evelyn's quiet complaint with a cold reminder: she was Mrs. Vance, not a victim. Her mother's demands reinforced this role, making Evelyn, a brilliant mind, feel like a ghost. A dangerous indifference replaced betrayal. The debt was paid; now, it was her turn.
She drafted a divorce settlement, waiving everything. As Alexander's tender voice drifted from his study, speaking to Scarlett, Evelyn placed her wedding ring on his pillow, moved to the guest suite, and locked the door. The dull wife was gone; the Oracle was back. After Betrayal, She Claimed Her Empire
Rabbit Serena Vance, an unloved wife, clutched a custom-made red velvet cake to her chest, enduring the cold rain outside an exclusive Upper East Side club. She hoped this small gesture for her husband, Julian, would bridge the growing chasm between them on their third anniversary. But as she neared the VIP suite, her world shattered.
Julian's cold, detached voice sliced through the laughter, revealing he considered her nothing more than a "signature on a piece of paper" for a trust fund, mocking her changed appearance and respecting only another woman, Elena. The indifference in his tone was a physical blow, a brutal severance, not heartbreak.
She gently placed the forgotten cake on the floor, leaving her wedding ring and a diamond necklace as she prepared to abandon a marriage built on lies. Her old life, once a prison of quiet suffering and constant humiliation, now lay in ruins around her.
Three years of trying to be seen, to be loved, were erased by a few cruel words. Why had she clung to a man who saw her as a clause in a will, a "creature," not a wife? The shame and rage hardened her heart, freezing her tears.
Returning to an empty penthouse, she packed a single battered suitcase, leaving behind every symbol of her failed marriage. With a burner phone, she dialed a number she hadn't touched in a decade, whispering, "Godfather, I'm ready to come home." 
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