Reilly Mcardle
10 Published Stories
Reilly Mcardle's Books and Stories
More Than Just A Tutor
Young Adult My SAT prep book felt heavy as I approached Jake Peterson' s front porch for our usual Tuesday session.
Tutoring was my reliable income, essential for my college fund.
The front door stood ajar, and a muffled thumping from upstairs hinted at something unexpected.
Suddenly, my vision warped, inundated with glowing, intrusive text: `[Live-Chat Commentary]`.
Remarks like `User_DramaQueen77: OMG, is the nerdy girl gonna bust in on them?!` and `User_JashleyFan01: Nooo, don' t ruin the Jashley moment! They' re endgame!` flashed across my sight.
My life, apparently, was now a live broadcast for anonymous strangers on the internet.
Moments later, Jake emerged, flustered, followed by a smirking blonde I immediately recognized as 'Ashley' , while the chat exploded with comments labeling me 'side character energy' .
A chilling 'prophecy' soon appeared: `User_OracleGamer: Bet Jake dumps the tutor for Ashley. Sarah' s gonna lose him AND her cash cow. Sad.`
What was this surreal nightmare, and why was my quiet, strategic existence suddenly the subject of relentless, bizarre public judgment from unseen trolls?
I wasn' t a character in their made-up drama, yet every practical decision I made, from valuing my paid time to demanding payment for a stolen item, was twisted into a display of 'Ice Queen' or 'Money Grubber' behavior.
But through the chaos, a different kind of insight emerged: this invasive commentary, while humiliating, also contained invaluable intel, revealing their malicious schemes before they even started.
If my life was now a game show for their entertainment, I decided to become the player who knew all the cheats, turning every snarky comment into my strategic advantage. Stranded For His Fake Sister
Romance My fiancé kicked me out of his car on a deserted highway because his "sister" Krystle claimed her car had broken down.
He drove off with her and her daughter, leaving me stranded in the scorching heat without a backward glance.
While I trudged for miles through the dust, Krystle posted a video of him at the gala, captioning it "My Hero" as they laughed together under the fireworks.
I realized then that I was never his partner, just a placeholder he could discard the moment Krystle snapped her fingers.
I didn't cry, and I didn't call him to beg for an explanation.
Instead, I returned to our shared penthouse and took a pair of heavy tailoring shears to my custom wedding dress.
I shredded the delicate lace until it was nothing but a pile of ruined scraps on the floor, destroying the future we were supposed to have.
Then I blocked his number, packed my life into a single suitcase, and vanished.
By the time he realized Krystle had staged the breakdown to destroy us, I was already gone.
Three years later, he found me again-but I wasn't the same woman he left on the side of the road. The Player's Wife: A Queen's Revenge
Modern The soft glow of my husband David' s laptop in our quiet living room seemed innocent enough, just like his daily ritual of coming home, dropping his keys, and sighing about a "long day" at the office.
But then I saw the words on the screen: "The Player' s Sanctum," a dark forum where 'AlphaDave' detailed his calculated betrayals, turning our son Ethan into an unwitting accomplice in his web of lies, all while preaching the art of trust to facilitate deception.
The facade shattered, revealing a cold, methodical manipulator who saw our perfect life as merely a stage for his performance, a performance he thought I was too naive to see through, and a philosophy that stretched far beyond simple infidelity.
My breath caught as the birdhouse, his "secret project" with Ethan for my birthday, twisted in my mind-a symbol not of love, but of his monstrous manipulation; the discovery left me reeling, a deep, icy ache settling in my bones.
He thought he was the director, the master of manipulation in a game he invented. He was utterly wrong. The moment he walked through that door, cheerful and loving, I knew the real game had just begun. He had unknowingly challenged a queen, and I never lose. Goodbye, I'm Not Your Substitute Wife Anymore
Romance For three years, I was Mrs. Sarah Davis-a title that meant nothing more than being a ghost in my own opulent home. My architect husband, Mark, kept our marriage a secret, a mere convenience while his heart belonged to another.
The shattering truth unveiled itself in a hidden room: a shrine filled with portraits of Emily, his childhood sweetheart, his "one true love." I wasn't a wife; I was a placeholder, a warm bed until she returned.
When Emily rejoined Mark's firm, his joy was palpable, his neglect of me complete. He spent endless nights by her side, leaving me invisible, my love unrequited, my existence dismissed.
How could I have been so blind, so foolish, to waste three years on a man who could only offer polite indifference? The pain wasn't just his betrayal; it was my own self-inflicted wound, the slow erosion of my spirit.
So, I devised a desperate plan-a carefully orchestrated deception designed to win my freedom. I would get his signature on a blank sheet of paper, and then the real work would begin. He wouldn't even know what hit him, consumed as he was by his public persona and his undying devotion to Emily. He would release me, even if he never truly saw me. The Heiress's Sweet, Cold Revenge
Billionaires They found her, the long-lost true heiress of the Blakely fortune, after two decades in the rough foster system.
They saw a loud, defiant girl who "hired a gang" to attack the family's adopted daughter, Stella.
So, they sent me away, to a high-security psychiatric facility, to be reformed.
I returned, a blank slate in a plain white dress, my voice soft, my hair severely pulled back, confessing to a crime I didn't commit.
They called it recovery, but in truth, it was a subtle form of torture, designed to break me, inflicted by the very people who should have welcomed me home.
My "sister" Stella, with her perfected victim act, continued her sickening games, dropping my childhood keepsake in the trash, then faking an attack to have me banished to the freezing basement.
My "brother" Matthew, the cold CEO, put me through demeaning tasks, all the while watching for any sign of the "madness" he believed I possessed, while Andrew, the one flicker of conscience, could only watch, paralyzed by guilt.
What kind of family would do this to their own?
But they had no idea who they were dealing with, or what I truly learned in that "reforming" facility.
The docile girl they saw was merely a sophisticated weapon, quietly observing, meticulously planning, and waiting for the perfect moment to prove that their guilt would be their undoing. The Ghost He Discarded: Now A Gaming Queen
Romance I was "NyxEcho," the hidden strategist behind my superstar gamer boyfriend, Kaiser. My plain avatar was a shield, masking past trauma as I secretly built his team into champions and created his real-world brand.
Then, his message hit: "Nyx. Meet Seraphina. She's... the one." My heart shattered. He benched me, replacing me with an ethereal avatar, his long-obsessed "digital muse," declaring her his dream.
He publicly discarded me as "practice," flaunting Seraphina. In real life, Liam, blind to my true identity as Ava Chen, severed my freelance work. Seraphina's cruelty deepened: she framed, slandered me, and incited thousands to hunt my avatar for a bounty.
How could I be so invisible? Why did he believe her crafted fantasy over my genuine support? I was "not important," hunted, my true self unseen, while he celebrated her lie.
The humiliation hardened into resolve. At Liam's lavish public proposal to Seraphina, I made my choice. No more hiding. My identity, my face, my truth-it was time for them to be revealed. My Wife's Dark Secret
Romance I was Liam, a quiet woodworker, often overshadowed by my dazzling wife Victoria and our Hamptons estate.
My son, Ethan, a perfect copy of his mother, barely acknowledged me, instead fawning over his "Uncle Julian Vance."
My life felt comfortably settled, if a little overlooked.
That changed the sunny afternoon Julian arrived, a pale, small boy named Noah trailing behind him.
Ethan cruelly taunted Noah, and a horrifying "accident" soon left Noah severely burned and fighting for his life in the hospital.
As I sat outside his room, the smell of burnt fabric clinging to me, I overheard Victoria and Julian's low, conspiratorial voices.
They spoke of a "switch at that clinic in Monaco," how "Noah wasn't Julian's," and "Liam's little swimmers" disappearing because "the medication worked perfectly."
My blood ran cold.
They were planning to pull the plug, to kill a child, because "Ethan is the sole heir."
This wasn't just Julian's son; Noah, the frail, abused boy, was mine.
And Ethan, the son I'd loved and raised, wasn't.
My seemingly perfect family was a monstrous lie, a gilded cage built on unspeakable betrayals.
Everything I thought was real crumbled to dust.
They had sterilized me, swapped my child, and now plotted murder, all for inheritance.
How could I have been so blind?
How could the woman I loved be capable of such chilling evil?
The world tilted, sickening and raw.
With a horrifying clarity, I knew what I had to do next.
Pushing open that door, my voice raw, I declared war: "You want a divorce, Victoria? You got it."
But not before the world knew the truth of what you had done. Too Late for Apologies, Mr. Cole
Romance For eight years, I was the quiet mastermind behind Synapse Dynamics, its financial engine and the secret girlfriend of its brilliant founder, Ethan Cole. I poured my life, my capital, and my intellect into his vision, building his empire from the shadows, believing fiercely in our shared future.
But at an SXSW after-party, my meticulously built world imploded. I overheard Ethan publicly dismiss me as "useful but questionable," then proudly introduce Tiffany Bell, a marketing associate, as his "actual girlfriend"—and kiss her.
The humiliation snowballed. Tiffany, pregnant and cruel, flaunted their affair on social media, even AirDropping a photo of her in *my* bed with Ethan. She texted, gloating about Ethan's "disgust" with me, contrasting her "clean" image. Then, at a private clinic, she faked a fall, framing me, turning Ethan and his parents into a rage-filled mob who publicly shamed me, labeling me "used goods" who "whor*d herself out."
How could the man I loved, the company I saved, turn so viciously against me, twisting years of sacrifice into scandal? Every lie stung, designed to erase my unseen labor, to paint my dedication as depravity. Why was my loyalty repaid with such calculated cruelty?
The final blow came: a deepfake video aiming to destroy my reputation, followed by Ethan’s public engagement announcement. But as the ice settled, a chilling clarity emerged. I wasn't broken. With my father's full backing, it was time they saw what a scorned woman could truly do. The Heiress Hoax
Sci-fi The Texas heat shimmered, another ranch chore done.
For years, strange comments floated in the air, a private, unsolicited social media feed just for me.
Sometimes oddly accurate, sometimes nonsense.
Then a woman and a girl appeared on our porch, clutching a fake DNA report.
"She’s your daughter too," Maria Rodriguez declared, claiming my life.
The air crackled.
New comments hissed: "Here comes trouble. The real heiress arrives."
My blood ran cold.
I’d lived this day before.
Last time, I followed the comments' treacherous advice.
They said Ashley loved peanut butter cookies, so I baked them; she nearly died from a severe allergy.
My parents' love turned to suspicion.
Later, the comments screamed "Ashley’s in danger!"
I rushed to help, only to be framed by Maria with fake texts and videos, making my parents believe I was a monster.
Disowned, I was sent away, then found and brutally killed in a staged car accident.
The comments, my supposed guides, were actually my undoing, twisting my actions, alienating my family, and sealing my doom.
The horror of reliving this nightmare again and again was unbearable.
But waking up today, with the sun on my face, the same day endless: I refused to be a puppet.
This time, I would fight back, armed with the knowledge of their lies. You might like
Invisible To Her Bully
Dea B Unlike her twin brother, Jackson, Jessa struggled with her weight and very few friends. Jackson was an athlete and the epitome of popularity, while Jessa felt invisible.
Noah was the quintessential "It" guy at school-charismatic, well-liked, and undeniably handsome. To make matters worse, he was Jackson's best friend and Jessa's biggest bully.
During their senior year, Jessa decides it was time for her to gain some self-confidence, find her true beauty and not be the invisible twin.
As Jessa transformed, she begins to catch the eye of everyone around her, especially Noah.
Noah, initially blinded by his perception of Jessa as merely Jackson's sister, started to see her in a new light. How did she become the captivating woman invading his thoughts? When did she become the object of his fantasies?
Join Jessa on her journey from being the class joke to a confident, desirable young woman, surprising even Noah as she reveals the incredible person she has always been inside. The Ninety-Ninth Goodbye
Tango The ninety-ninth time Jax Little broke my heart was the last time. We were the golden couple of Northgate High, our future perfectly mapped out for UCLA. But in our senior year, he fell for a new girl, Catalina, and our love story became a sick, exhausting dance of his betrayals and my empty threats to leave.
At a graduation party, Catalina "accidentally" pulled me into the pool with her. Jax dove in without a second's hesitation. He swam right past me as I struggled, wrapped his arms around Catalina, and pulled her to safety.
As he helped her out to the cheers of his friends, he glanced back at me, my body shivering and my mascara running in black rivers.
"Your life isn't my problem anymore," he said, his voice as cold as the water I was drowning in.
That night, something inside me finally shattered. I went home, opened my laptop, and clicked the button that confirmed my admission.
Not to UCLA with him, but to NYU, an entire country away. My Daddy and Uncles
Flying Soul 🦋 “Alina, you will get late for school again” I heard Dad banging on my door.
“Last 10 min” I mumble, but my eyes widen. I was with Uncle Harrison. Did Dad find us?
“Alina…” I opened my eyes, I was in my room and Harrison was looking at me with a warm smile wearing his signature suit.
“I am taking a bath” I yelled.
“Come fast, your breakfast is ready,” Dad said before leaving.
“Good morning” Uncle Harrison came to bed cupping my face he kissed me.
“Good morning” I whispered on his lips.
“When did you bring me here,” I asked.
“You were sleeping,” He said, scooping me in his arms and entering my bathroom.
“This hide and seek is terrible” I sighed.
“But it's fun” He chuckled.
Author Note...
Hello dear Readers,
Meet Alina and her family.
The story of love, care, romance and lots of suspense.. The 99-Like Heartbreak
Moria Anninger My phone glowed in the dark, showing the smiling face of Ethan Reed, the man I' d loved for years. Next to him, Tiffany Chen leaned close, radiating triumph. The caption below demanded "100 likes and we' re done!" The count was stuck at 99.
My thumb hovered, then pressed. 99 became 100. It was over, just like he wanted.
But then, Mark, his best friend and messenger, called. "Sarah? What the hell did you just do? Ethan is just messing around, he doesn' t mean it." I told him I was busy, packing for college abroad on a scholarship. He muffled a curse, and I hung up.
The fight that led to this was orchestrated by Tiffany. She had "accidentally" ruined my university application designs, then cried to Ethan, who, of course, believed her. He accused me of jealousy, of being "needy." And then, his favorite threat: "Maybe we should just break up."
I was silent, not with weakness, but with a leaden weight in my chest. He stormed out, slamming the door. That night, alone, I found his tablet. A voice memo to Mark played his casual, cruel voice: "Sarah is getting on my last nerve...I'm gonna have to put her back in her place. Maybe another public breakup threat? That always gets her crying and begging."
I had been a fool, shrinking myself to fit his world. But hearing his utter contempt, it wasn't just pain-it was clarity. The fight was over. I had lost. But in that loss, I found myself. The Price of Unrequited Love
Shearwater Eighteen days after giving up on Brendan Maynard, Jayde Rosario cut off her waist-length hair and called her father, announcing her decision to move to California and attend UC Berkeley.
Her father, surprised, asked about the sudden change, reminding her how she' d always insisted on staying with Brendan. Jayde forced a laugh, revealing the painful truth: Brendan was getting married, and she, his stepsister, could no longer cling to him.
That night, she tried to tell Brendan about her college acceptance, but his fiancée, Chloie Ellis, interrupted with a bubbly call, and Brendan' s tender words to Chloie twisted a knife in Jayde' s heart. She remembered how his tenderness used to be hers alone, how he had protected her, and how she had poured out her heart to him in a diary and a love letter, only for him to explode, tearing the letter and yelling, "I'm your brother!"
He had stormed out, leaving her to painstakingly tape the shredded pieces back together. Her love, however, didn't die, not even when he brought Chloie home and told her to call her "sister-in-law."
Now, she understood. She had to put that fire out herself. She had to dig Brendan out of her heart. My Bad Boy Neighbour
Courtney Radford Chad has been my neighbour for as long as I can remember. We practically grew up together since our parents were the best of friends. Out side of school, he would tease me and inside of school, he'd ignore me. He was the most confusing but hottest guy I knew. No lie. He was gorgeous with his chocolate brown eyes and soft black hair. It was all too good to be true though. He seemed almost perfect, apart from the fact he is the baddest bad boy in our school. He was a major player and could get any girl whenever he wanted.
And me? I'm Lucy. I'm just an average girl, it's not like i have boys dropping at my feet but I do have a few boys who have liked me. Unlike most of the female population, I don't spend my time getting dressed up to impress Chad. Instead, I spend my time reading books, even writing them!
Any who, my life was completely fine until my bad boy neighbour started acting a little stranger than usual.
********
"Chad! Stop!" I shout, letting out an embarrassing squeal before I burst out laughing.
"No Lucy, I'm never going to stop" he says seriously, his eyes looking into mine.
I did a double take.
"W-What?" I choke out, looking up at him. My eyes were wide when I heard his next words.
"I'm never going to stop telling you because it's true" he says, his eyes were burning with so much sincerity and awe, it made me blush.
"I'm never going to stop telling you the truth" When Charity Turns Deadly
Shu Yu The last thing I saw was the Chicago skyline rushing up to meet me.
Then, merciful darkness.
Now, blinding sunlight streamed through a window, hitting my face as I lay in my university dorm room.
My head throbbed with a pain far deeper than a physical fall.
It was the brutal, horrifying memory of my parents, David and Susan Miller.
Their kind faces, now hauntingly overlaid with images of their blood on the polished floors of our beautiful Chicago home.
They were murdered.
And the architect of that devastation?
Brittany Evans, the very scholarship student my generous parents had taken under their wing, hailed as their "charity case."
Her smile, so sickeningly sweet and fake, her boyfriend Spike's cruel, calculating eyes, haunted my every waking thought.
She had meticulously orchestrated their downfall: the forged will, the baseless accusations leveled against me.
I endured the looks of disgust, the complete abandonment from everyone I had ever known.
The crushing despair consumed me, pushing me to the desperate, final leap.
How could such an act of profound kindness be repaid with such heinous betrayal and wanton violence?
How could I have been utterly blind, so incredibly naive, to allow my entire family, my entire life, to be so mercilessly dismantled, ending in that horrific, unjust way for all of us?
The injustice burned.
But then, I sat bolt upright in bed, gasping for air.
My hands flew to my throat, my chest.
I was whole.
Alive.
It was the first week of freshman year.
Again.
I had been granted a second chance, and this time, a cold, unyielding rage, something I' d never felt in my first, naive life, settled deep in my bones.
Brittany Evans would not win. 
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