UsagiChan77
7 Published Stories
UsagiChan77's Books and Stories
The Fallen Ugly Girl: Her Epic Comeback
Modern I used to be the "Princess of Cohen Pharmaceuticals," but now I'm just a girl in a soaked coat trying to hide the rolls of fat that came with the stress of my family's bankruptcy. My fiancé, Kody, was the only thing I had left to hold onto.
I walked into Kody's office looking for a shred of comfort, but he slid a "Termination of Engagement" form across his mahogany desk instead. He didn't just break up with me; he looked at my size sixteen body with pure disgust and told me I was a liability to his corporate image.
Before I could even process the heartbreak, his "secretary" walked in, rubbing her flat stomach and asking about their lunch plans. They had been together for six months-the entire time I was at my father's legal depositions. Kody didn't stop there; he took the keys to the Porsche I bought him, claiming it was a company asset, and drove off with his pregnant mistress, leaving me standing in the gutter.
Then my phone rang-my father had collapsed from heart failure, and the hospital refused to operate without a $200,000 deposit because our insurance was frozen.
I stood in the hospital lobby, bankrupt, betrayed, and watching my father die through a glass window. Kody had stripped me of everything, and the world was laughing at the "fallen princess." I was desperate, humiliated, and out of options. But I still had one thing left: a black obsidian ring given to me twelve years ago by a boy I saved from drowning.
I tracked Christ Collins to a private Hamptons gala, a place where the air smells like old money and dark secrets. He didn't offer me a check; he offered me a sick game.
"Swim ten laps in the outdoor pool," he whispered, his eyes icy blue and predatory as a freezing November storm raged outside. "Five million dollars if you finish. Or you can go back and watch your father die."
I kicked off my heels and walked toward the frigid water. Unwanted by Him, Chosen by the Stronger Alpha
Werewolf I was the Pack’s shame, a twenty-year-old "Runt" who had never shifted. Yet, I clung to the desperate hope that Alpha Marcus, the man I had loved my entire life, would finally claim me at the Full Moon Gala.
Instead, he stood before the entire Pack with Izzy, a woman who looked at him with hunger rather than love. With eyes as cold as stone, he didn't just ignore me; he destroyed me.
"I, Marcus Thorne, reject you, Olivia Hayes."
The rejection snapped our bond, but the nightmare was just beginning. When Izzy framed me for poisoning her, Marcus didn't hesitate. He chained me in the dungeon and wielded the silver whip himself. Each lash burned like liquid fire, tearing through my skin as he demanded a confession I couldn't give.
I woke up in a pool of my own blood, only to hear the nurse whisper the truth I was never meant to know.
The silver toxicity hadn't just broken my body; it had killed the unborn pup I didn't even know I was carrying.
Marcus had whipped the mother of his own child to protect a liar. He had killed his heir for a woman who was faking her own pregnancy.
That night, as I crawled through the mud to escape, the weak Runt died. In the freezing waters of the river, my bones snapped and reshaped. I didn't just shift; I became the legendary White Wolf.
And when Marcus finally realized the truth and came begging on his knees, I looked at him with my new, violet eyes and prepared to give him the rejection he deserved. Pregnant and Cast Out: The Alpha's Betrayal
Werewolf I stood outside the hospital door, heavy with our unborn pup, only to hear my Fated Mate destroying our future.
Theo was promising his ex-girlfriend, a woman carrying a Rogue’s child, that he would claim her baby as the Alpha heir.
As for our own legitimate son? He planned to hide him away as a shameful mistake.
When I confronted them, Theo didn't beg for forgiveness. Instead, he stripped me of my Luna title, moved his mistress into my bedroom, and locked me in a moldy servant's cell.
But the cruelty didn't end there. To "cleanse" the pack, his mother kicked my swollen stomach with silver-laced gloves.
I felt my baby die inside me as they dragged me through the mud and threw me out of the territory.
They thought I was just a weak, abandoned girl who would perish in the woods.
They didn't know that the "orphan" they abused was actually the lost daughter of the Alpha King.
Six months later, I returned.
They were throwing a party for the mistress's baby, celebrating a lie.
I walked in wearing a green dress, holding the deed to their bankrupt pack and a paternity test that proved their "heir" was nothing but a fraud.
I didn't come back for an apology.
I came to burn their world to the ground. Me Alejó, Ahora Me Está Cazando
Fantasy I was reborn on the day of my fifty-sixth public confession to my guardian, Charlotte Mayo. In my past life, my obsession had destroyed her, leading to a miserable marriage and her death while saving me. This time, I vowed to fix it.
To push her toward the man she truly loved, I called Howard Franklin to the scene. But the moment he arrived, a heavy stage light crashed to the floor between them. Howard immediately screamed that I had tried to kill him.
Charlotte, the woman I died for, believed him instantly.
Back at the house, he served me soup laced with peanuts, knowing I have a deathly allergy. As my throat seized up, he "accidentally" knocked the EpiPen from my grasp and convinced Charlotte I was having a violent episode.
She watched me suffocate, her face filled with disgust.
"Take him to the cold storage room in the basement," she ordered security. "Let him cool off."
The woman who once rushed me to the ER for this exact allergy now saw me as a monster.
As they dragged me away, I looked back one last time. Over Charlotte's shoulder, Howard was looking directly at me.
He was smiling.
I finally understood. My obsession wasn't the only poison in our lives. He was. And this time, I wouldn't be saving her from myself. I would be saving her from him. Divorce, Rebirth, and Sweet Success
Romance The last thing I remembered was the blinding pain behind my eyes, then darkness. When I opened them again, I was back in my bed, twenty-five years younger, before my life became a hollow marriage to August Savage, a U.S. Senator who saw me as nothing more than a political asset.
A painful memory surfaced: my death from an aneurysm, brought on by years of quiet heartbreak. I had seen a picture of August, his college sweetheart Heidi, and our son Kadin on a family retreat, looking like the perfect family. I was the one who took the picture.
I shot out of bed, knowing this was the day of that retreat. I ran to the private airfield, desperate to stop them. I saw them there, bathed in morning light: August, Kadin, and Heidi, looking like a perfect, happy family.
"August!" I yelled, my voice raw. His smile vanished. "Carolynn, what are you doing here? You're making a scene." I ignored him, confronting Heidi. "Who are you? And why are you going on my family's trip?"
Kadin then slammed into me, yelling, "Go away! You're ruining our trip with Aunt Heidi!" He sneered, "Because you're no fun. Aunt Heidi is smart and fun. Not like you."
August hissed, "Look what you've done. You've upset Heidi. You're embarrassing me."
His words hit me harder than any physical blow. I had spent years sacrificing my dreams to be the perfect wife and mother, only to be seen as a servant, an obstacle.
"Let's get a divorce," I said, my voice a quiet thunderclap. August and Kadin froze, then scoffed, "Are you trying to get my attention, Carolynn? This is a pathetic new low." I walked to the desk, pulled out the divorce papers, and signed my name with a steady hand. This time, I was choosing myself. A Bride's Shattered Illusion
Romance The package arrived on the eve of my wedding, a small, elegant box from a high-end photo studio, but instead of a gift from my fiancé, Brandon, I found a single photograph.
It showed Brandon, arm tightly wrapped around his assistant, Chloe Miller, both in wedding attire, smiling wide and genuine. A text from an unknown number confirmed my worst fear: "Miss Reed, Chloe was so excited about her wedding dress fitting with Mr. Scott. They make a lovely couple, don't they?"
When Brandon finally arrived home, Chloe by his side, she stammered a flimsy excuse about a "friend's wedding," but my eyes were fixed on him. My fiancé, the man I was supposed to marry tomorrow, waved a dismissive hand. "Don't make a scene over nothing. You know how important tomorrow is for the family's image." He saw my silence as weakness, his confidence unwavering in his control over me. As he reassured Chloe, I calmly retrieved my packed suitcases, ready to leave.
My life with Brandon, built on years of protection and a secret courthouse marriage, flashed before my eyes. Ten years ago, I was his protector at the orphanage; five years ago, I sacrificed my dreams for his promise of a future. Now, I was just "simple, easy to manage," a pawn in his family' s business merger.
The photo didn' t just break my heart; it shattered the illusion, revealing the cold, hard truth of my position, spurring me to declare, "I want a divorce."
Brandon' s face darkened, and he tore the photo, believing he could erase the betrayal. He then tried to intimidate me, reminding me, "The apartment, the car, the money-it' s all from me. You' ll be back on the streets." But his threats, and his desperate pleas, no longer worked. I was finally choosing myself. The Vanishing $28,000
Modern My fiancé Mark' s mother, Carol, beamed with a chillingly sweet smile as she handed me a debit card, a generous gift of $28,000 for our condo down payment. Settling into their Austin living room, I felt an overwhelming sense of security and belonging, a perfect start to our life together as I thanked them profusely.
That warm glow brutally extinguished just days later at Best Buy when the cashier, after swiping the card, simply stated, "Insufficient funds."
My heart plummeted; an ATM display confirmed the horrifying truth: a mere $800 remained, $27,200 of our future seemingly vanished into thin air.
When I confronted Mark and Carol, their united front delivered a cold slap of denial and insidious gaslighting.
Carol cooed about how easy it was to "forget a transaction or two," while Mark casually dismissed my concern, both subtly implying I was either incompetent or lying.
The true betrayal came when Carol orchestrated a call to my parents, painting me as a scatterbrained bride overwhelmed by wedding plans, swaying even my own family' s trust. I was completely isolated.
How could my future in-laws, and even my fiancé, turn so cruelly, so deliberately, attempting to frame me and strip away my credibility?
The initial joy and security were replaced by a bitter cocktail of shock, anger, and a dawning, terrifying realization: this wasn't about missing money; it was about an elaborate, calculated scheme to control me.
But a fierce resolve hardened within me; I wouldn't be their victim.
With my best friend by my side, I vowed to expose their lies, no matter the cost, turning their game back on them step by calculated step. You might like
Rising From Wreckage: Starfall's Epic Comeback
Huo Wuer Rain hammered against the asphalt as my sedan spun violently into the guardrail on the I-95. Blood trickled down my temple, stinging my eyes, while the rhythmic slap of the windshield wipers mocked my panic.
Trembling, I dialed my husband, Clive. His executive assistant answered instead, his voice professional and utterly cold.
"Mr. Wilson says to stop the theatrics. He said, and I quote, 'Hang up. Tell her I don’t have time for her emotional blackmail tonight.'"
The line went dead while I was still trapped in the wreckage. At the hospital, I watched the news footage of Clive wrapping his jacket around his "fragile" ex-girlfriend, Angelena, shielding her from the storm I was currently bleeding in. When I returned to our penthouse, I found a prenatal ultrasound in his suit pocket, dated the day he claimed to be on a business trip.
Instead of an apology, Clive met me with a sneer. He told me I was nothing but an "expensive decoration" his father bought to make him look stable. He froze my bank accounts and cut off my cards, waiting for the hunger to drive me back to his feet.
I stared at the man I had loved for four years, realizing he didn't just want a wife; he wanted a prop he could switch off. He thought he could starve me into submission while he played father to another woman's child.
But Clive forgot one thing. Before I was his trophy wife, I was Starfall—the legendary voice actress who vanished at the height of her fame.
"I'm not jealous, Clive. I'm done."
I grabbed my old microphone and walked out. I’m not just leaving him; I’m taking the lead role in the biggest saga in Hollywood—the one Angelena is desperate for. This time, the "decoration" is going to burn his world down. Secret Triplets: The Billionaire's Second Chance
Roderic Penn I stood at my mother’s open grave in the freezing rain, my heels sinking into the mud. The space beside me was empty. My husband, Hilliard Holloway, had promised to cherish me in bad times, but apparently, burying my mother didn't fit into his busy schedule.
While the priest’s voice droned on, a news alert lit up my phone. It was a livestream of the Metropolitan Charity Gala. There was Hilliard, looking impeccable in a custom tuxedo, with his ex-girlfriend Charla English draped over his arm. The headline read: "Holloway & English: A Power Couple Reunited?"
When he finally returned to our penthouse at 2 AM, he didn't come alone—he brought Charla with him. He claimed she’d had a "medical emergency" at the gala and couldn't be left alone. I found a Tiffany diamond necklace on our coffee table meant for her birthday, and a smudge of her signature red lipstick on his collar. When I confronted him, he simply told me to stop being "hysterical" and "acting like a child."
He had no idea I was seven months pregnant with his child. He thought so little of my grief that he didn't even bother to craft a convincing lie, laughing with his mistress in our home while I sat in the dark with a shattered heart and a secret life growing inside me.
"He doesn't deserve us," I whispered to the darkness. I didn't scream or beg. I simply left a folder on his desk containing signed divorce papers and a forged medical report for a terminated pregnancy. I disappeared into the night, letting him believe he had successfully killed his own legacy through his neglect.
Five years later, Hilliard walked into "The Vault," the city's most exclusive underground auction, looking for a broker to manage his estate. He didn't recognize me behind my Venetian mask, but he couldn't ignore the neon pink graffiti on his armored Maybach that read "DEADBEAT." He had no clue that the three brilliant triplets currently hacking his security system were the very children he thought had been erased years ago. This time, I wasn't just a wife in the way; I was the one holding all the cards. The Ghost Wife's Billion Dollar Tech Comeback
Huo Wuer Today is October 14th, my birthday. I returned to New York after months away, dragging my suitcase through the biting wind, but the VIP pickup zone where my husband’s Maybach usually idled was empty.
When I finally let myself into our Upper East Side penthouse, I didn’t find a cake or a "welcome home" banner. Instead, I found my husband, Caden, kneeling on the floor, helping our five-year-old daughter wrap a massive gift for my half-sister, Adalynn.
Caden didn’t even look up when I walked in; he was too busy laughing with the girl who had already stolen my father’s legacy and was now moving in on my family. "Auntie Addie is a million times better than Mommy," my daughter Elara chirped, clutching a plush toy Caden had once forbidden me from buying for her. "Mommy is mean," she whispered loudly, while Caden just smirked, calling me a "drill sergeant" before whisking her off to Adalynn’s party without a second glance.
Later that night, I saw a video Adalynn posted online where my husband and child laughed while mocking my "sensitive" nature, treating me like an inconvenient ghost in my own home. I had spent five years researching nutrition for Elara’s health and managing every detail of Caden’s empire, only to be discarded the moment I wasn't in the room.
How could the man who set his safe combination to my birthday completely forget I even existed? The realization didn't break me; it turned me into ice.
I didn't scream or beg for an explanation. I simply walked into the study, pulled out the divorce papers I’d drafted months ago, and took a black marker to the terms. I crossed out the alimony, the mansion, and even the custody clause—if they wanted a life without me, I would give them exactly what they asked for.
I left my four-carat diamond ring on the console table and walked out into the rain with nothing but a heavily encrypted hard drive. The submissive Mrs. Holloway was gone, and "Ghost," the most lethal architect in the tech world, was finally back online to take back everything they thought I’d forgotten. The Humble Ex-wife Is Now A Brilliant Tycoon
Flory Corkery For three quiet, patient years, Christina kept house, only to be coldly discarded by the man she once trusted.
Instead, he paraded a new lover, making her the punchline of every town joke.
Liberated, she honed her long-ignored gifts, astonishing the town with triumph after gleaming triumph.
Upon discovering she'd been a treasure all along, her ex-husband's regret drove him to pursue her. "Honey, let's get back together!"
With a cold smirk, Christina spat, "Fuck off."
A silken-suited mogul slipped an arm around her waist. "She's married to me now. Guards, get him the hell out of here!" Marrying Her Was Easy, Losing Her Was Hell
Michael Tretter "Stella once savored Marc's devotion, yet his covert cruelty cut deep. She torched their wedding portrait at his feet while he sent flirty messages to his mistress.
With her chest tight and eyes blazing, Stella delivered a sharp slap.
Then she deleted her identity, signed onto a classified research mission, vanished without a trace, and left him a hidden bombshell.
On launch day she vanished; that same dawn Marc's empire crumbled. All he unearthed was her death certificate, and he shattered.
When they met again, a gala spotlighted Stella beside a tycoon. Marc begged. With a smirk, she said, ""Out of your league, darling." Beneath His Ugly Wife's Mask: Her Revenge Was Her Brilliance
Lukas Difabio Elliana, the unfavored "ugly duckling" of her family, was humiliated by her stepsister, Paige, who everyone admired. Paige, engaged to the CEO Cole, was the perfect woman-until Cole married Elliana on the day of the wedding. Shocked, everyone wondered why he chose the "ugly" woman.
As they waited for her to be cast aside, Elliana stunned everyone by revealing her true identity: a miracle healer, financial mogul, appraisal prodigy, and AI genius.
When her mistreatment became known, Cole revealed Elliana's stunning, makeup-free photo, sending shockwaves through the media. "My wife doesn't need anyone's approval." The Convict Heiress: Marrying The Billionaire
Rollins Laman The heavy thud of the release stamp was the only goodbye I got from the warden after five years in federal prison. I stepped out into the blinding sun, expecting the same flash of paparazzi bulbs that had seen me dragged away in handcuffs, but there was only a single black limousine idling on the shoulder of the road.
Inside sat my mother and sister, clutching champagne and looking at my frayed coat with pure disgust. They didn't offer a welcome home; instead, they tossed a thick legal document onto the table and told me I was dead to the city.
"Gavin and I are getting engaged," my sister Mia sneered, flicking a credit card at me like I was a stray dog. "He doesn't need a convict ex-fiancée hanging around."
Even after I saved their lives from an armed kidnapping attempt by ramming the attackers off the road, they rewarded me by leaving me stranded in the dirt. When I finally ran into Gavin, the man who had framed me, he pinned me against a wall and threatened to send me back to a cell if I ever dared to show my face at their wedding.
They had stolen my biotech research, ruined my name, and let me rot for half a decade while they lived off my brilliance. They thought they had broken me, leaving me with nothing but an expired chapstick and a few old photos in a plastic bag.
What they didn't know was that I had spent those five years becoming "Dr. X," a shadow consultant with five hundred million dollars in crypto and a secret that would bring the city to its knees. I wasn't just a victim anymore; I was a weapon, and I was pregnant with the heir they thought they had erased.
I walked into the Melton estate and made an offer to the most powerful man in New York.
"I'll save your grandfather's life," I told Horatio Melton, staring him down.
"But the price is your last name. I'm taking back what's mine, and I'm starting with the man who thinks he's marrying my sister." The Scars She Hid From The World
REGINA MCBRIDE The heavy iron gates of the Wilderness Correction Camp groaned as they released me after three years of state-sponsored hell. I stood on the dirt road, clutching a plastic bag that held my entire life, waiting for the family that claimed they sent me there for "rehab."
My brother, Brady, picked me up in a luxury SUV only to throw me out onto a deserted highway in the middle of a brewing storm. He told me I was a "public relations nightmare" and that the rain might finally wash the "stink" of the camp off me. He drove away, leaving me to limp miles through the mud on a snapped ankle.
When I finally dragged myself to our family estate, my mother didn't offer a hug; she gasped in horror because my muddy clothes were ruining her Italian marble. They didn't give me my old room back. Instead, they banished me to a moldy gardener’s shack and hired a "babysitter" to make sure I didn't embarrass them further. My sister, Kaleigh, stood there in white cashmere, pretending to cry while clinging to her fiancé, Ambrose—the man who had once been mine.
They all treated me like a volatile junkie, refusing to acknowledge that Kaleigh was the one who planted the drugs in my bag three years ago. They wanted to believe I was broken so they wouldn't have to feel guilty about the "wellness retreat" that was actually a torture chamber.
I sat in the dark of that shed, feeling the cooling gel on the cigarette burns that covered my arms, and realized they had made a fatal mistake. They thought they had erased me, but I had returned with a roadmap of scars and a hidden satellite phone.
At dinner, I didn't beg for their love. I simply rolled up my sleeves and showed them the price of their silence. As the wine spilled and the lies crumbled, I sent a single text to the only person I trusted: "I'm in. Let them simmer." The hunt was finally on. The Queen Returns: Pampered By Her Three Powerhouse Brothers
Kleon Samorodnitsky After five years of playing the perfect daughter, Rylie was exposed as a stand-in. Her fiancé bolted, friends scattered, and her adoptive brothers shoved her out, telling her to grovel back to her real family. Done with humiliation, she swore to claw back what was hers. Shock followed: her birth family ruled the town's wealth. Overnight, she became their precious girl. The boardroom brother canceled meetings, the genius brother ditched his lab, the musician brother postponed a tour. As those who spurned her begged forgiveness, Admiral Brad Morgan calmly declared, "She's already taken."