WILONA COOK
14 Published Stories
WILONA COOK's Books and Stories
From Broken To Beloved, My Journey
Modern My husband, Andre Grimes, was a newly-elected senator, and I was a celebrated chef pregnant with our first child. On the night of his victory, our world was supposed to be perfect.
Instead, I watched him on live TV, his arm around his pregnant mistress, as he announced their relationship to the world. He then looked into the camera and called my own pregnancy a lie, a fabrication to create a scandal.
His powerful family, along with my own adoptive parents, locked me in our home. They moved his mistress into my bedroom and planned to force me to have an abortion to protect his career.
His mother looked at me with cold eyes.
"It's for the best, Kyra. No loose ends."
I was trapped, betrayed by everyone, facing the murder of my unborn child.
But they made one mistake: they gave me back my phone. With trembling hands, I found a long-forgotten number and dialed. A man's voice answered.
"My name is Kyra Moore," I choked out. "I think you might be my father. They're going to take my baby." The Discarded Wife's Revenge On The Don
Mafia I stood outside the mahogany doors, balancing a tray of espresso, when I heard my husband promise his sister that my reign as the Queen of Chicago was over.
I thought being the Don's wife meant safety. I was wrong.
In a warehouse reeking of rust, faced with an ultimatum from our enemies to choose who lives, Brennan made his choice.
"Alyssa is strong," he justified, shielding his mistress, Debbi, who was faking a pregnancy. "She knows the life."
He walked out into the sunlight with her, leaving me in the dark with a gun to my head.
He abandoned me to be tortured and murdered by his rivals, weaponizing my resilience to absolve his guilt.
He thought I died that day. He even mourned me after he eventually found out Debbi was a traitor.
But he didn't know the new security guard was an undercover FBI agent who pulled me from the edge.
Two years later, I've built a quiet life running a bistro in Maine under a new name.
But then the bell above the door chimes during the lunch rush.
I look up, and there he is. The husband who sacrificed me.
He's looking at me not with guilt, but with a terrifying, obsessive hope.
He says he burned down the world to fix his mistake. He says he won't let me go again.
I smile, but my hand is already reaching for the wire the FBI gave me.
I'm not a wife anymore, Brennan. I'm the executioner. The Neglected Wife's Spectacular Comeback
Modern My best friend is pregnant with my husband's child. An hour ago, she stood in my living room, holding a positive pregnancy test and a grainy ultrasound photo that felt like a death sentence to my world.
But the true nightmare began when my mother-in-law swept in, praised my friend for "doing the family a great service," and moved her into our home to care for the "Patton heir."
My husband, the man who swore my infertility didn't matter, called her a mere "vessel" for our family. He then orchestrated an "accident" that shattered my hand, ending my career as a cardiothoracic surgeon.
He didn't stop there. He sacrificed my father's life-saving heart transplant for my friend's brother and left me for dead in a landfill when I discovered the truth.
I was a brilliant surgeon who could hold a life in my hands, yet I was blind to the fact that my own life was being systematically destroyed by the two people I trusted most.
After faking my death and disappearing for two years, I've built a new life, a new face, and a new love.
But now, he's found me. And this time, he's not just trying to control me-he's trying to bury me. The Don's Wife's Sweetest Revenge
Mafia For fifteen years, I was Isabella Moretti, the perfect wife to the city's most powerful Don. We were a power couple, a carefully curated masterpiece of influence and affection. Our life was flawless.
That masterpiece shattered on our anniversary when a burner phone lit up with a picture of his assistant’s hand on my husband's thigh.
Soon, I found his second phone and discovered the full scope of his betrayal. His mistress, Sofia, was pregnant. He lied to my face about "work emergencies" while she began a campaign of terror, sending me photos of them together, a grainy ultrasound, and a video of her parading in my silk robe, bragging about becoming the new Mrs. Moretti.
I was supposed to endure it in silence. That's the rule for a Don's wife. But all the pain hollowed out, leaving only a cold, chilling certainty.
He truly believed I was nothing without him. "Where would you go, Bella?" he'd once laughed, his voice dripping with condescension. "Everything you have, everything you are, is because of me. You wouldn't last a week."
He thought it was a game.
"I'll take that bet," he'd said.
So while he was away on a final "business trip" with her, I made my move. I liquidated our assets and hired movers to strip our mansion bare, erasing every trace of my existence. I walked out forever, but not before leaving two gifts on the empty mattress where we once slept: the signed divorce papers, and the melted, grotesque slug of gold that used to be my wedding ring. The Chosen One's Cruel Game
Romance The Miller family living room, usually a hub of quiet prestige, hummed with a different kind of energy. My adoptive father, Mr. Miller, beamed, the air thick with anticipation for the grand unveiling.
Lined up before him were the five men he had raised alongside me: Ethan Hayes, Justin Bell, Ryan Stone, Kevin White. And me, Chloe Miller, the prize in a twisted game I was forced to play.
"Chloe, my dear," Mr. Miller' s voice, warm and loving, cut through the tension. "Who do you choose?"
Ethan, the man I had tragically chosen in another life, smiled. A perfect, practiced mask of devotion. This time, his smile felt like a cruel joke.
I remembered the cheers, the naive happiness of that last life. He' d been the perfect husband, the perfect son-in-law. Until my father' s funeral.
That night, he handed me divorce papers, his voice stripped of all warmth. "Now that your father is gone, there' s no need to continue this."
Confusion turned to horror as he confessed: our marriage was an act of gratitude. A pact. A lottery among the boys to see who would "care for me" while they waited for Sophia, my sweet, innocent adoptive sister, to come of age.
Every love letter, every tender touch, every whispered promise, now tainted. I was a pawn. A well-behaved doll. Then came the final, devastating blow: he left me to drown in a flooded subway tunnel for Sophia' s sprained ankle.
But then, impossibly, I woke up. Back in my bedroom, on the very day I was supposed to choose.
This time, my choice would not be a game. It would be my freedom.
"I choose Liam Black," I declared, my voice ringing clear and steady in the stunned silence. A quiet, stoic Navy SEAL, an outsider. My escape.
The shock on their faces was a masterpiece of disbelief. Their carefully constructed world shattered by a single, powerful truth.
And I was just getting started. From Fake Love to True Bliss
Romance For six years, our life together with Ashley was a perfectly curated social media feed: beautiful, aspirational, and utterly fake.
I, Ethan Miller, the indie filmmaker, thought we were finally building something real, meticulously picking out wedding invitations with my social media influencer fiancée.
Then, a bombshell. "I need to postpone the wedding," Ashley announced, tears welling up in a performance worthy of an Oscar.
Her childhood friend Liam' s dying mother, she claimed, had one last wish: to see Ashley marry her son.
Not only did she steal the wedding rings I designed for us to marry Liam, but Ashley-the woman I was supposed to spend my life with-also callously mocked my own dying mother for being too desperate to get married.
The betrayal clawed at me, but the horror deepened when I returned home to find Liam and Ashley cozy on our couch, with my belongings being boxed up by her bodyguards.
I was a prisoner in my own home, a "harmless" man she could discard at will.
When I tried to leave, Liam's hired thugs abducted me in my own lobby, while Ashley' s bodyguards stood by, watching.
I woke up to Ashley and Liam staging a sick charade, falsely accusing me of assaulting Liam' s "dying" mother.
"You monster! How could you?" Ashley screamed, before violently slapping me.
Then, with a chillingly calm expression, she grabbed my wrist and twisted. I screamed as I heard the sickening crack. My wrist was broken.
"Don't ever get in my way again," she hissed, leaving me broken and alone.
She even tried to buy my silence, threatening to ruin my career if I ever spoke the truth.
But her theatrical sorrow, the stolen rings, the staged kidnapping, the deliberate injury-it all solidified into a cold, hard resolve within me.
I was done playing her game. "Can you find me a new bride?" I asked my sister, and then, a name from my past surfaced: Chloe Peterson. Beyond Betrayal: Her Unbreakable Spirit
Billionaires The first sign was a receipt, a flimsy piece of paper I found in my husband Julian' s coat pocket.
It was for an obscure art supply store, in a part of the city he had no business being.
My husband, the CEO of the world' s most powerful tech firm, saw art as a frivolous asset.
My heart went cold.
Five years I' d spent as the perfect wife to a man more machine than human, managing his life with detached efficiency.
I believed he was incapable of emotion, of passion.
I was wrong.
The private investigator' s report came back a week later.
Pictures. Julian, my ruthless Julian, with a young artist named Lily Chen.
The look on his face wasn' t love. It was absolute possession.
He followed her, bought her groceries, paid her student loans.
He streamed her security cameras directly to his private server, watching her relentlessly.
The man who forgot my birthday had memorized a stranger' s life.
My confrontation at the Zenith Tech Gala was a mistake.
"Julian Vance," I announced, taking a spare microphone on stage. "Innovator. Husband. Adulterer."
I held up photos of his obsession for the world to see.
He didn' t flinch. His eyes, cold and dark, locked onto mine.
"My wife is unwell," he told the stunned crowd, before having security escort me off stage.
That night, he slid divorce papers across the marble island in our kitchen.
"Sign them," he commanded. The settlement was obscenely generous.
"No," I said.
"Don' t be a fool, Scarlett. Take the deal. It' s more than you deserve."
"I want an apology. I want you to admit what you did."
He laughed, a short, ugly sound. "Sign the papers."
"Never."
The next day, my family' s AI firm was hit with a hostile takeover.
Julian was dismantling my life, piece by piece.
"Stop it," I pleaded. "You can have the divorce. I' ll sign. Just leave my family alone."
"It' s too late for that," he said, then hung up.
Two days later, my parents disappeared.
"I have them, Scarlett. In a safe place," he said that night, my mother crying in the background.
"What do you want?" I whispered.
"The papers are on your desk. Sign them, and bring them to me. Your parents will be home by morning."
"And if I don' t?"
The silence was terrifying. "Don' t test me, Scarlett. You have one hour."
I found the papers. My hand shook as I signed, surrendering everything.
He met me at an abandoned warehouse. My parents were there, tied to chairs, hooded.
"Mom? Dad?"
He removed their hoods. Bruised and terrified, my father screamed, "Scarlett, run!"
"I promised they would be home by morning," Julian said to me, his eyes never leaving mine. "I never said they' d be alive."
He nodded to his men. The gunshots were deafening.
My parents, executed in front of me. The world went black.
I awoke with a gasp, in my bed, in the sterile mansion.
The date was the day I found the receipt. The day my world began to end.
This time, it would be his end.
I knew the monster I was married to.
No confrontation. No public scenes. No desperate pleas.
This time, I would disappear.
And I would watch him descend into the madness he deserved. Wife's Revenge: A Sweet Dish
Modern I was scrolling through an anonymous forum, a niche corner of the internet, when a thread titled "The Grand Escape Plan" caught my eye.
My husband David, the man I' d loved for five years, came home that very moment, beaming.
He announced he' d found a private orphanage, and we were finally going to adopt, a dream we' d chased through years of medical treatments and mounting strain.
But as he spoke, his words chillingly echoed the forum post I'd just read, a detailed, grotesque plan by a user "Wanderer77" to adopt a child, leave it with his "barren" wife, fake his death, and disappear with his "true love" and their "little surprise."
Suddenly, his excited talk of adoption and "a real family" twisted into something sinister.
The man I' d married transformed into Wanderer77 before my eyes, and a wave of nausea, more than just shock, washed over me – a premonition of a truth I was too terrified to confirm.
That night, my trembling hands held a pregnancy test: two bright pink lines.
I was pregnant, but my husband didn't know, and he was already plotting my abandonment, leaving me with another woman's child.
The love for him evaporated, replaced by cold resolve.
He thought he was setting a trap for me, but the game had just begun; he was about to walk into his own. My Father's Daughter: Unmasking the Deceit
Modern The black Escalade pulled up to the Hughes family ranch, ready for me to finally claim my heritage as a country music star and the long-lost daughter of Howard Hughes.
My agent was frantic, but I ignored him; this was where I' d been broken and driven to suicide in my past life.
Then, Nicole Lester, the adopted daughter, emerged, mocking my "trashy" outfit and status, daring me to step foot on "their" property.
In my previous life, her words, and Ethan' s subsequent career sabotage, had completely shattered me, leaving me desperate for their hollow approval.
But this time, I wasn't the intimidated girl who'd fallen for their mind games or felt unworthy.
I stepped out of the car, a chilling calm washing over me as I realized their cheap tactics wouldn't work on the woman who was reborn to burn their world to the ground. The Alibi of Justice
Modern The stale smell of forgotten dreams filled the New York yellow cab as rain blurred the city outside, a scene hauntingly familiar.
In my last life, this exact ride took me straight to the Pulitzer jury, to the beginning of my catastrophic downfall.
My own daughter, Gabrielle, systematically dismantled my life, using my name and reputation to peddle fake insider trading tips to desperate writers.
When her scheme inevitably imploded, she seamlessly shifted blame onto me, painting me as a corrupt public figure, a "whistleblower" feeding lies to the hungry online mob.
I lost everything: my esteemed career, my freedom, and ultimately, my life, succumbing to a stress-induced heart attack in a lonely apartment, hounded by strangers and forever disgraced.
The betrayal was a cold, bitter knot in my stomach-how could the child I raised inflict such immense pain and ruin?
But then, a jolt: I was back in this taxi, on this very day, with the chilling clarity of a second chance.
This time, this ride wouldn't lead to my destruction; it would be the first step in my meticulous plan to save myself and dismantle her cruel charade. The Quantum Heiress: Rewriting My Destiny
Romance I died in a federal prison, framed for corporate espionage.
My last sight was the man who put me there, Ethan Scott, laughing on a TV screen, celebrating his new life with my stepsister, Stella Chadwick.
He' d stolen my inheritance, my freedom, and my future, leaving me to rot for a crime I didn' t commit.
Every breath I took in that cell was laced with a hatred so profound, it almost tasted metallic.
But then, I gasped, sucking in the scent of expensive leather instead of stale concrete.
I was back, seated at the head of the boardroom, staring at the corporate empire that was my birthright.
Ethan Scott stood there, smug and charismatic, ready to play his old game.
He even brought Stella, holding her hand, demanding a "triumvirate" for a company I inherited from my father.
In my past life, I fell for his lies, his emotional blackmail, his manipulative performance.
I was blinded by a warped sense of love and loyalty.
But not this time.
This time, I felt a cold, sharp clarity.
Because I remembered everything. The Girl Who Cheated Death
Werewolf I was three months pregnant when my Austin penthouse became my tomb.
My boyfriend, Liam, pushed me from the balcony, a fall swift and final.
My death was staged as a tragic suicide, a lie the news readily swallowed.
They didn't know the real reason: Daisy, a coyote pup I'd rescued, could shift into a beautiful woman.
Liam couldn't let that secret out, and now I watched my killers, my spirit haunting the home I' d paid for.
He pulled Daisy into his arms, sharing a passionate kiss right where my lifeless body had fallen.
"She's gone," Liam whispered, "It's all ours now."
They slandered my name, seized my family' s oil fortune, and buried me in a cheap wooden box.
Then, on my family ranch, over my desecrated grave, Liam confessed: "I only dated her to give you this life, Daisy. Chloe owed you this."
I burned with a rage so consuming, it felt like my very soul was on fire.
And then, I woke up, back in my Range Rover, the Texas storm roaring outside, faced with Daisy once more. The Jilted Bride's Strategic Upgrade
Billionaires My engagement party to Preston Hawthorne III was meant to be the social event of the season, a strategic fusion of my family's political power and his corporate empire.
The grand ballroom of the Four Seasons glittered with D.C.'s elite, all gathered to witness my seemingly perfect future.
Then, a trashy tabloid reporter ambushed me, thrusting a phone displaying a dramatic suicide note from Chloe, Preston' s supposed "fragile" childhood friend.
"Ellie, is it true Preston has been having an affair with his adopted sister?" the blinding camera flashes and relentless questions began.
My fiancé, Preston, instead of defending me, rushed over only to stammer a pathetic excuse about Chloe needing him and fleeing the scene.
He confirmed his betrayal and abandonment publicly, letting the vultures with their cameras feast on my humiliation.
Left standing alone in the center of the storm, the hot wave of mortification threatened to drown me.
How could the man I was to marry choose a manipulative girl over duty, honor, and our powerful alliance?
I was Senator Vance's daughter, and this was more than embarrassment; it was a public declaration of war by a weak, spineless fool.
His monumental mistake, however, wouldn't be my downfall.
Just as I composed myself, Preston Hawthorne II, the true titan, proposed an unthinkable solution to salvage generations of power.
"You will not marry Preston," he stated, "You will marry my other son, Caleb, a real man who understands duty."
I would not be a discarded bride; I would turn this public humiliation into the ultimate display of strength.
My only condition: "I want to meet him. Alone."
This wasn't a setback; it was an unexpected and powerful upgrade. You might like
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." 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." 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!" 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." Traded Husbands, Tangled Hearts: Can Destiny Be Changed?
Mia Caldwell In their previous lives, Gracie married Theo. Outwardly, they were the perfect academic couple, but privately, she became nothing more than a stepping stone for his ambition, and met a tragic end.
Her younger sister Ellie wed Brayden, only to be abandoned for his true love, left alone and disgraced.
This time, both sisters were reborn. Ellie rushed to marry Theo, chasing the success Gracie once had-unaware she was repeating the same heartbreak.
Gracie instead entered a contract marriage with Brayden. But when danger struck, he defended her fiercely.
Could fate finally rewrite their tragic endings? Too Late, Mr. Billionaire: You Can't Afford Me Now
Theodora Birnir The whispers said that out of bitter jealousy, Hadley shoved Eric's beloved down the stairs, robbing the unborn child of life.
To avenge, Eric forced Hadley abroad and completely cut her off. Years later, she reemerged, and they felt like strangers.
When they met again, she was the nightclub's star, with men ready to pay fortunes just to glimpse her elusive performance.
Unable to contain himself, Eric blocked her path, asking, "Is this truly how you earn a living now? Why not come back to me?"
Hadley's lips curved faintly. "If you’re eager to see me, you’d better join the queue, darling." 
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