Xanthe N.
1 Published Story
Xanthe N.'s Book and Story
Contracted By Love: Her Relife Choice
Short stories Charlie Bennett is a man who has it all-wealth, power, and success. But behind the walls of his towering corporate empire, he hides a broken heart and a past he'd rather forget. When fiery interior designer Angie walks into his office, challenging him in ways no one ever has, the last thing Charlie expects is to fall for her. She's everything he can't control-creative, passionate, and unwilling to compromise.
For Angie, Charlie is everything she's learned to avoid-distant, emotionally unavailable, and dangerously handsome. But as the two clash over the vision for his company, sparks fly, and Angie realizes there's more to the cold CEO than meets the eye. As their connection deepens, old wounds resurface, threatening to tear them apart.
In a world where control is everything, can two people with so much to lose find the courage to open their hearts and trust in a love that's warmer than the wind and deeper than their fears? You might like
The Billionaire Who Lost His Sun
Gavin I was arranging lilies for my engagement party when the hospital called. A dog bite, they said.
My fiancé, Salvatore Moretti, was supposed to be in Chicago on business. But he answered my frantic call from a ski slope in Aspen, with the sound of my best friend, Sofia, laughing in the background.
He told me not to worry, that my mother’s injury was just a scratch. But when I got to the hospital, I learned it was Sofia’s unvaccinated Doberman that had attacked my diabetic mother. I texted Sal that her kidneys were failing, that they might have to amputate.
His only reply: “Sofia is hysterical. She feels terrible. Calm her down for me, okay?”
Hours later, Sofia posted a photo of Sal kissing her on a ski lift. The next call I got was from the doctor, telling me my mother’s heart had stopped.
She died alone, while the man who swore to protect me was on a romantic vacation with the woman whose dog killed her. The rage inside me wasn't hot; it turned into a block of ice.
I didn't drive back to the penthouse he gave me. I went to my mother’s empty house and made a call I hadn't made in fifteen years. To my estranged father, a man whose name was a ghost story in Salvatore’s world: Don Matteo Costello.
“I’m coming home,” I told him.
My vendetta wouldn’t be one of blood. It would be one of erasure. I would dismantle my life here and disappear so completely, it would be as if I had never existed. From Abandoned Wife To Powerful Heiress
Gavin My marriage ended at a charity gala I organized. One moment, I was the pregnant, happy wife of tech mogul Gabe Sullivan; the next, a reporter' s phone screen announced to the world that he and his childhood sweetheart, Harper, were expecting a child.
Across the room, I saw them together, his hand resting on her stomach. This wasn't just an affair; it was a public declaration that erased me and our unborn baby.
To protect his company's billion-dollar IPO, Gabe, his mother, and even my own adoptive parents conspired against me. They moved Harper into our home, into my bed, treating her like royalty while I became a prisoner.
They painted me as unstable, a threat to the family's image. They accused me of cheating and claimed my child wasn't his.
The final command was unthinkable: terminate my pregnancy. They locked me in a room and scheduled the procedure, promising to drag me there if I refused.
But they made a mistake. They gave me back my phone to keep me quiet. Feigning surrender, I made one last, desperate call to a number I had kept hidden for years-a number belonging to my biological father, Antony Dean, the head of a family so powerful, they could make my husband's world burn. He Chose His Ex, I Chose Vengeance
Gavin On the day I was supposed to marry Giovanni Moretti, he publicly declared I was his brother’s girl.
He called off our wedding at the last minute. His ex, Sofia, had amnesia after a car crash, her memory reset to a time when they were still deeply in love.
So he cast me aside in my wedding dress to play the part of her devoted boyfriend.
For a month, I was forced to live as a "guest" in the Moretti estate, watching him dote on her and rebuild their past, all while promising he would marry me as soon as she recovered.
Then I overheard the truth. Giovanni had the cure for her amnesia locked away in his safe.
He wasn't trapped. He was indulging, savoring a second chance with the love of his life. He was confident I was his property, that I would simply wait until he was done. He told his men he could have us both.
He used his brother's name to humiliate me. Fine. I would use his brother's name to destroy him.
I walked into the office of the true power in the family, Don Domenico Moretti. "Your brother said I am your companion," I told him. "Let's make it real. Marry me." The 1314th Jilted Bride
rabbit For ten years I planned our dream wedding-over and over-while my CEO fiancé Kody Morgan found ways to miss every single one.
Ever since Tonya Buckley, his childhood sweetheart, returned to the country, my wedding had become a ticking time bomb.
She caused a scene on the eve of my wedding, and Kody always stood me up.
This last time, Tonya cut her finger, and a few drops of blood spilled dramatically.
Kody anxiously ran red lights, risking everything to rush her to the ER, insisting the doctor check her carefully.
Meanwhile, I faced the guests' derisive stares and received only Kody's dismissive excuse.
"Does it have to be today? We've canceled the wedding so many times already, let's reschedule for next weekend. Tonya passes out at the sight of blood, so I need to stay with her. I really hope you understand."
He reminisces about their childhood bond, granting Tonya every request, while neglecting me.
Actually, I didn't have to marry him.
When his absence became a pattern, I chose a man who'd actually appear. Thirty-Eight Divorces, One Betrayal
Gavin Today is my fifth wedding anniversary. It's also the day my husband, Ethan, asked me for a divorce for the 38th time.
He does this for Ilene, his childhood friend. The woman who crashed her car on our wedding day, leaving her unable to have children. Ever since, he's been repaying a debt of guilt, and I've been the price.
For five years, I endured the cycle of divorce and remarriage. But this time was different. Ilene pushed me down a flight of stairs.
Ethan found me bleeding and promised me justice. He swore he would make her pay.
But days later, the police called. The security footage of the incident had been mysteriously erased. There was no evidence, no case.
That night, Ilene had me kidnapped. As her men tore at my clothes in the back of a van, I managed to call Ethan.
He rejected my call.
I jumped from the moving van. And as I ran for my life, bleeding on the cold asphalt, I made a vow.
This time, there would be no 39th remarriage.
This time, I would disappear. He Thought I'd Stay: His Mistake
Gavin Today was my four-year anniversary with Chace. He told me to wear my white dress for a surprise he had planned. I spent all afternoon getting ready, practicing my "Yes," certain he was finally going to propose.
But when I arrived at the hotel ballroom, the banner read, "Congratulations, Chace & Karyn."
In front of all their friends and family, he got down on one knee and proposed to his childhood friend, Karyn Warren.
He used his mother's heirloom ring—the one he once showed me, saying it was for the woman he would spend his life with.
He then introduced me, his girlfriend of four years, as "a very good friend." His new fiancée smiled sweetly and told me their marriage would be an open one, giving me permission to stay on as his mistress.
I overheard him telling his friend his real plan: "Karyn is my wife for show, but Ember can be my woman on the side for fun."
He thought I would just accept being his toy. He was wrong.
I pulled out my phone and texted a number I'd never dared to call before—the executor of my estranged father's will.
"I need to claim my inheritance."
His reply was instant. "Of course, Ms. Ford. The stipulation is a marriage to me. Are you ready to proceed?"
"Yes," I typed back. My life with Chace was over. Ashes to Phoenix: A Love Reborn
Gavin I pulled my fiancé from a car wreck just seconds before it exploded. The fire left my back covered in hideous scars, but I saved his life. For the four years he was in a coma, I gave up everything to be his caretaker.
Six months after he woke up, he stood on stage at his comeback press conference. He was supposed to thank me. Instead, he made a grand, romantic declaration to Estelle, his childhood sweetheart, who was smiling from the audience.
His family and Estelle then made my life a living hell. They humiliated me at a gala, ripping my dress to expose my scars. When I was beaten in an alley by thugs Estelle hired, Julian accused me of making it up to get attention.
I lay in a hospital bed, bruised and broken, while he rushed to Estelle’s side because she was "scared." I overheard him tell her he loved her and that I, his fiancée, didn't matter.
All my sacrifice, my pain, my unwavering love—it meant nothing. To him, I was just a debt he had to repay out of pity.
On our wedding day, he kicked me out of the limo and left me on the side of the highway, still in my gown, because Estelle faked a stomach ache.
I watched his car disappear. Then I hailed a taxi.
"The airport," I said. "And step on it." Saving Her, Breaking Us
rabbit The day I saw Jared Stanley's interview, I filed for divorce and moved out of the perfectly maintained home I'd shared with him for three years.
In that interview, Jared said his biggest regret in life was that, in a life-or-death situation, he instinctively protected what he called his most "precious national asset."
The "asset" he protected wasn't me, his wife. It was his "fragile" colleague, Bailee Brooks.
Two days later, at the global press conference for the G20 summit.
The same renowned war correspondent asked me the same question.
"Ms. Quinn, as a top-tier simultaneous interpreter, what would you say is the professional principle you are most proud of?"
I looked directly at Jared sitting in the front row.
"True professionalism is knowing that my husband risked his life to protect his mistress, and still being able to calmly, as the lead interpreter, accurately convey the commands that would ultimately save him."