Tabbie Platt
10 Published Stories
Tabbie Platt's Books and Stories
Mistaken Identity: Loving The Wrong Twin Sister
Mafia I replaced my twin sister in a marriage contract to the ruthless Mafia Don, Donovan Blackwood.
For three years, I was a ghost in his home, silently enduring his coldness while he flaunted his mistress, Chloe.
On the very last day of our contract, Chloe staged an accident.
Donovan didn't hesitate.
He forced me to drain my blood to save her life.
Then, to prove his loyalty to her, he drove me to the cliffs and pushed me into the freezing ocean.
He even locked me in a cellar infested with spiders—my deepest phobia—because she lied and said I threatened her.
He thought he was punishing the spoiled, arrogant Isabella.
He didn't know he was breaking Ava, the woman who had silently memorized his allergies and waited up for him in the dark every single night.
When I finally took my fifty million dollars and vanished, I left behind nothing but the divorce papers and a photo revealing the truth.
He tore the city apart, destroying my family to find me, only to realize he had tortured the wrong woman.
Now, he is standing on my porch in the pouring rain, staring in horror at the simple wooden ring on my finger given to me by another man.
He falls to his knees, begging for a chance to love the wife he tried to destroy.
I look at him, feeling absolutely nothing.
"It's too late, Donovan," I say, locking the door. "You killed her." Reborn Heiress: His Regret, Her Reign
Billionaires Emily Winston, heiress to the powerful Winston Media Group, led a seemingly perfect life, engaged to Ethan Hawke, the charismatic heir of Hawke Energy.
Their corporate fairy tale shattered when she discovered Ethan in their marital bed with Sophia Bell, her father's illegitimate daughter.
Despite his tearful pleas, the betrayal ran deep. Ethan’s resentment, fueled by his belief Emily orchestrated Sophia’s quiet exile, poisoned their marriage and her very existence.
Corporate sabotage followed: leaked secrets, crumbling strategies, her family's empire ravaged. Her beloved grandfather and frail mother withered under the immense stress, gone too soon.
Emily herself met a brutal end, run down by a truck on a rain-slicked street, the very day she learned she was pregnant.
A life stolen, a legacy destroyed—a cruel cosmic joke. Why had her love, her loyalty, been met with such utter devastation?
But then, she woke up, back on her 25th birthday, gifted an impossible second chance.
This time, Emily would rewrite her story, protect her family, and forge a new destiny.
Yet, across the opulent ballroom, her eyes met Ethan Hawke’s, and a chilling, stark recognition flickered in their depths.
He remembered. He had reborned too.
This changed everything. He Called Off Our Forever
Modern Tonight, my boyfriend of seven years, Benjamin Kane, was supposed to propose. Our future was a perfect picture, planned down to the last detail.
But a single phone call shattered it all. A mysterious voice convinced him I was a gold digger who would ruin him, and that another woman, Jenna Christian, was his true soulmate.
He called off our engagement on the spot.
That was only the beginning of my nightmare. I was stalked by a man obsessed with Jenna, a confrontation that ended with me falling from a rooftop and shattering my arm. Then, I was kidnapped by a shady agency, trapped by a contract Jenna had signed in my name. I was living the horrific fate that was meant for her.
Benjamin, the man who promised me forever, abandoned me to suffer while defending the very woman who orchestrated my torment.
Lying in a hospital bed, I received an acceptance letter for a design scholarship in Paris. It was my only escape. I took it, leaving behind the man who broke me and the life he destroyed. At Twenty Weeks, He Faked My Miscarriage
Billionaires For a decade, I was Amelia Ross, the Upper East Side's most publicly humiliated wife.
Page Six kept a running tally of my husband Jared Sterling's affairs, a humiliating "Sterling's Scorecard."
My entire independent design career, my peace of mind, even my very identity, had been sacrificed to protect the Sterling family's gilded facade.
Then, with surgical cruelty, Jared orchestrated a "routine check-up" during my twenty-week pregnancy.
It ended not with a healthy heartbeat, but a fabricated miscarriage report and a hefty gag order.
"You're not fit to carry a Sterling heir," he sneered, tossing the paperwork at me as he celebrated with Kendra Bell, his latest "passion muse."
My heart, already a mosaic of fractures from 99 prior betrayals, shattered into dust.
While Jared and Kendra toasted their "undying love," my baby was gone, a life stolen, and my agony dismissed as inconvenient.
The public, his family, even Jared himself, expected me to collapse, to beg for forgiveness, to cling to the wreckage of our marriage like I always had.
They expected tears, desperation, and another humiliating plea.
But the hundredth cut didn't break me; it forged me anew.
From that moment on, I didn't just walk away; I turned the page, ready to build an empire of my own, free from the Sterling name, ready to redefine what "Amelia Ross" truly meant. Fatal Affair, Fated Love
Romance Three days before my wedding, I held the invitations, a bright future with Chloe Davis unfolding before me. I decided to surprise her at her final dress fitting, full of stupid, happy optimism.
But through the boutique window, I saw her with Ethan Miller, her "first love," the broke con artist I'd repeatedly paid off at Chloe's tearful request. Then, hidden in an alley, I heard their conversation: my meticulously planned life was a calculated scam.
She called me "pathetic," a "tool," a "walking ATM." She even bragged about how easy I was to manipulate. My five years of pouring everything into her-paying off her loans, buying her a car and her mother a condo, giving Ethan tens of thousands-all of it was a lie designed to extract every penny before she discarded me.
The invitations slipped from my numb fingers, scattering on the dirty asphalt as memories flooded back, each sweet moment now tainted with cold, cynical calculation. My heart, once full, was now a charred, worthless spot.
The most horrific truth came out when she intentionally crashed our car on the freeway, shattering my leg. She escaped untouched, called Ethan, and left me for dead, only to flaunt her Vegas trip with him on social media, using my credit card, while I fought for my life.
I was broken, not just by her betrayal, but by the realization that she hadn' t just hurt me; she had actively despised me, plotting to destroy me and even poisoning my mother to hasten my inheritance.
But I wouldn't just be used and discarded. No. This was no longer about a broken heart. This was about my mother. This was about justice. Forged In Fire: A Family's Fight
Modern My brother Andrew was our family's only hope, his Penn State scholarship a golden ticket out of this dead-end, rust-belt town.
But that dream shattered on the football field with a sickening crack, as Wesley Fowler, scion of the ruthless family who owned half the town, delivered a dirty, career-ending hit to Andrew's knee.
In the hospital, Wesley threw five hundred dollars at me, sneering that Andrew "should have known his place."
His goons later cornered me outside, shoving me against a brick wall, reminding me that "dead soldier's kids" were "nothing" and that the Fowlers "own the cops, the school, this whole damn town."
Our cries for justice were met with chilling indifference; the sheriff dismissed it as "boys will be boys," and the school revoked Andrew' s scholarship, citing false rumors and Lester Fowler's "donations."
An eviction notice appeared, a vicious online smear campaign painted us as violent thugs, and Andrew, once so full of life, withered in despair, whispering, "I wish I had died."
How could they get away with this, destroying an innocent life and crushing a family, simply because they were rich and powerful?
Drowning in a darkness so profound it felt like the end, I remembered my father' s Special Forces medals and his unit' s motto: "Leave no one behind."
My father's brothers in arms were our last hope, and I would drive a thousand miles to find them. When Loyalty Crumbles
Romance After a year overseas building a skyscraper that put our firm on the map, all I wanted was to get back home to my wife, Jenny.
But the moment I saw her at the airport, my world tilted; she was visibly pregnant, at least five months along, and the baby wasn't mine.
Her chilling explanation? It was her childhood friend Wes' s child, his "only chance," and she expected me to embrace this "sacrifice" as a twisted form of debt repayment for a "perfect marriage image."
Then, Wes moved into our home, a constant, smug reminder of my betrayal, culminating in Jenny slapping me and labeling me a "violent drunk" when I dared to defend myself against his taunts.
I couldn't fathom how the woman I loved could so coldly betray me and then blame me, but as I prepared to leave, I stumbled upon a flash drive she'd left, hinting at a truth far darker than I could imagine-a hidden plot that would force me to fight not for a broken marriage, but for her very safety. Stolen Genius, Reclaimed Fate
Young Adult My whole life was focused on one goal: Harvard.
I was Sarah Miller, the academic star, future astrophysicist, and that scholarship was my family's only way out of our small New England town.
Just days after acing another SAT practice test, my best friend Chloe, with her cheerleader ponytail swinging, handed me a shiny "friendship locket" for good luck.
Suddenly, my perfect scores plummeted, while Chloe' s, who usually struggled, inexplicably soared.
Then, a chilling conversation overheard outside the library confirmed my worst fears: Chloe and Ethan, my childhood friend and the boy I might have loved, had deliberately used the cursed antique locket from Mr. Abernathy' s shop to swap my academic luck for Chloe' s gain.
My actual SAT scores were a disaster, shattering my Harvard dream and my mother's hopes as her health faltered under the stress.
Ethan, to shield Chloe from a plagiarism charge, brazenly framed me, leading to my National Honor Society revocation, lost scholarships, and public humiliation as a "cheater."
Later, after Ethan rushed off to save Chloe, leaving me besieged by a vengeful clique vandalizing my car, he returned only to plant fabricated evidence that caused my mother to collapse.
How could my closest friends, who should have been my anchors, orchestrate such a cruel, calculated betrayal, then watch my life unravel without a flicker of remorse?
The injustice burned, transforming my despair into a cold, sharp rage.
They believed they had dealt with the 'naive bookworm' and that I would just "be fine."
They were profoundly mistaken. My revenge would begin by turning their own vile magic against them. The Unwanted Husband's Unexpected Power
Billionaires I had long embraced my role as the quiet, unremarkable husband, often ridiculed for supposedly failing at business and living off my wife, Brittany.
My marriage was a pact, a secret agreement with her father to save his struggling retail empire.
For years, I patiently endured Brittany’s public mockery, casual disrespect, and blatant infidelity with her personal trainer, Chad.
I let the stinging whispers of "kept man" wash over me, maintaining my carefully crafted facade.
But at tonight’s glittering charity ball, her cruelty escalated.
She shamelessly paraded Chad, then, scoffing at my "lack of ambition," she dramatically produced divorce papers.
In front of high society, she thrust them into my hands, sneering that I was a burden and she never wanted me.
The room erupted in snickers, the crowd visibly reveling in my supposed humiliation, assuming I would beg.
They believed I was truly a nobody, a pathetic freeloader, easily discarded.
Years of my patience, enduring this charade for a sacred promise, vanished in that moment.
Their smug faces, her utter betrayal—did she truly believe I was the penniless man she so gleefully cast aside?
I calmly accepted the divorce, a decision that visibly stunned everyone in the ballroom.
Then, during the ongoing charity auction, as she brazenly flaunted her wealth, I began to subtly bid against her, defying her by one dollar at a time.
I had given her countless chances, but tonight, something truly had to break.
My carefully constructed facade finally shattered, and it was time for them all to witness the true identity of the man they had been so arrogantly mocking. 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. The Enforcer's Jilted Princess
Bone Possolo Tomorrow was my wedding day to Jason Brennan, the heir to a powerful Mafia family.
My family, the Falcones, had even taken in an orphaned girl, Elena, treating her like my own sister.
But in my nightmare of a past life, I choked on my own blood, poisoned by the arsenic Elena slipped into my food every day.
As I lay agonizingly close to death, Jason stood over me with a cold laugh, holding Elena in his arms.
"We just needed the Falcone wealth, Bella. And the docks."
Then came the gunfire. I was forced to watch them slaughter my father and my brother, tearing my family out by the roots.
After my death, Elena even spread vicious rumors that I was a barren spinster, twisting their foul betrayal into a tragic tale of noble sacrifice to completely destroy my legacy.
The metallic tang of my own blood was so real I could still taste the ash.
I didn't understand why the girl my family sheltered for eight years would repay our charity with such venom.
And I understood even less how the man who swore to love me could orchestrate my brutal murder without a shred of hesitation.
Bolting upright in bed, drenched in cold sweat, I realized I had returned to the night before my wedding.
This time, I wouldn't just cancel the engagement. I would hand their treason directly to the Mafia's most terrifying Enforcer, and watch them burn. 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. Too Late, Mr. Capo: Your Wife Is Gone
Mo Yufei "Happy Anniversary," my husband said, sliding the separation agreement across the mahogany desk.
It was the eighteenth time in five years I had signed these papers.
Matteo De Luca, the most ruthless Capo in New York, checked his Rolex with cold impatience.
"Sign it, Sera. Bianca is on the ledge again. She needs to see we're over, or she jumps."
Bianca. The ward. The broken bird. The woman whose fragile psyche dictated every moment of my marriage.
I signed my name, and he left me alone on our anniversary to save her. Again.
But saving her wasn't enough.
When Bianca pushed me down a flight of marble stairs in a fit of jealous rage, shattering my spine and leaving me paralyzed, I thought Matteo would finally choose me.
I was wrong.
I woke up in the hospital to find him holding her hand, not mine.
"The security footage has been wiped," he told me, his voice void of emotion. "We cannot have a scandal. You fell, Sera. That is the story."
He erased the truth. He erased my pain.
He protected the woman who crippled me over his own wife.
Two months later, he wheeled me into a gala, playing the doting husband while I sat in the chair that was my prison.
He didn't know I had a burner phone hidden in my velvet dress.
He didn't know that tonight, the obedient wife was going to die on the pavement, and a ghost would rise in her place.
I looked at him one last time and dropped the phone in his lap.
"I hope she's worth it." 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. Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles
Dorine Koestler I watched my husband sign the papers that would end our marriage while he was busy texting the woman he actually loved.
He didn't even glance at the header. He just scribbled the sharp, jagged signature that had signed death warrants for half of New York, tossed the file onto the passenger seat, and tapped his screen again.
"Done," he said, his voice devoid of emotion.
That was Dante Moretti. The Underboss. A man who could smell a lie from a mile away but couldn't see that his wife had just handed him an annulment decree disguised beneath a stack of mundane logistics reports.
For three years, I scrubbed his blood out of his shirts. I saved his family's alliance when his ex, Sofia, ran off with a civilian.
In return, he treated me like furniture.
He left me in the rain to save Sofia from a broken nail. He left me alone on my birthday to drink champagne on a yacht with her. He even handed me a glass of whiskey—her favorite drink—forgetting that I despised the taste.
I was merely a placeholder. A ghost in my own home.
So, I stopped waiting. I burned our wedding portrait in the fireplace, left my platinum ring in the ashes, and boarded a one-way flight to San Francisco.
I thought I was finally free. I thought I had escaped the cage.
But I underestimated Dante.
When he finally opened that file weeks later and realized he had signed away his wife without looking, the Reaper didn't accept defeat.
He burned down the world to find me, obsessed with reclaiming the woman he had already thrown away. Reborn Heiress: Claimed By The Dark Don
Hen Bu I spent three years hating Damien Castillo, the ruthless mafia Don who kidnapped me from my engagement party and ruined my reputation.
But in the end, it was my perfect fiancé, Julian, and my sweet half-sister, Sophia, who slipped the deadly poison into my wine.
As the venom burned through my veins in that freezing cellar, I watched Julian smile. He and Sophia had orchestrated my brutal death. She had been sleeping in his bed all along, intentionally miscarrying his bastard child just to frame me as 'impure' and strip me of my family's protection. My own father used me as a political pawn, letting them throw me away like garbage.
And Damien? The monster I had fought and despised for years marched straight into a suicide ambush for me. He was riddled with bullets, turning his body into a human shield just to buy me a few more seconds of life.
"Touch her and you die."
I died in that blood-soaked basement, clutching his lifeless body, suffocating on my own blind trust. Why did I ever believe the golden boy who betrayed me? Why did I fight the only man who truly loved me?
Opening my eyes again, the stench of copper and mold was gone, replaced by the scent of Cuban cigars and black silk.
I was back in 1928, on the exact night Damien stormed my engagement party and locked me in his penthouse.
This time, when the ruthless Don approached me, I didn't scream or run back to my killers. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him. 
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