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Xia Luowei

11 Published Stories

Xia Luowei's Books and Stories

From Rejected Maid to the Lycan King's Queen

From Rejected Maid to the Lycan King's Queen

 Werewolf
5.0
The clerk at the Registry couldn't look me in the eye when she turned the screen around. My status didn't say "Luna" anymore. It said "Rogue." My mate, Alpha Jackson, had secretly replaced me on the official paperwork three years ago with his mistress, Candida. When I returned to the Pack House, Jackson didn't just bring Candida home; he brought a five-year-old boy he claimed was an orphan. "This is Joey," he announced, his eyes cold and glazed over. "Since you are barren, he will be the future Alpha." I tried to accept my fate as a servant in my own home, but they wanted me dead. The boy, looking like an angel, brought me a bowl of soup. "For you, Mama," he smiled. But as I reached for it, he splashed the scalding liquid over my hands. It wasn't just hot soup. It was laced with concentrated Wolfsbane. As my skin sizzled and peeled, the boy threw himself on the floor, screaming that I had attacked him. Jackson didn't check my burns. He didn't listen to my pleas. "Submit!" he roared, using the Alpha Command to force me to my knees. He made me apologize to the child who had just poisoned me. That night, listening to Jackson mate with Candida in the room next to mine, the bond finally snapped. They wanted the Luna gone? Fine. I dialed a number I hadn't used in years. "Hamilton," I whispered to the Lycan King. "I need a plane. And I need it to crash."
Too Late: The Don Begs Forgiveness

Too Late: The Don Begs Forgiveness

 Mafia
5.0
I placed the divorce papers on the mahogany desk, ending five years of being the perfect, silent wife to the most ruthless Don in Chicago. He didn't sign them. Instead, Kaden Barnes looked at me with cold, reptilian eyes and named his price for my freedom. "Thirty lashes," he said. "The discipline of a traitor." I accepted. I let his enforcer shred my back until I was dragging myself across the gravel driveway in a pool of my own crimson. But as I crawled toward the exit, I heard him laughing with his mistress, Brittaney. "Harlow isn't my wife," he sneered. "The certificate is a forgery. She owns nothing." My loyalty had been a lie. And when Brittaney faked an injury to frame me, Kaden didn't check on my bleeding wounds. He tied my wrists and ankles to the tow hitch of his SUV. He drove forward until my hip popped and my shoulder dislocated, leaving me broken in the dirt while his mistress smiled. He thought he had destroyed me. He didn't know his mother would smuggle me onto a private jet to London that very night. Three years later, the Barnes empire collapsed. Kaden was rotting in a Supermax prison, betrayed by the very mistress he had tortured me to protect. Now, a letter sits on my desk in Kensington. The monster is dying of cancer, and he has left me his entire fortune. I packed my bag for one last trip. It was time to see if the King had finally learned that he threw away a diamond to chase after cheap glass.
The Barren Wife's Cold Hearted Revenge

The Barren Wife's Cold Hearted Revenge

 Modern
5.0
For eight years, I endured seven miscarriages, clinging to the hope of starting a family with my husband, Joshua. Then I overheard the truth. He and my adoptive sister, Harlow, had orchestrated every loss. They needed the unique stem cells from my miscarriages to cure their own secret child. My body was just an incubator for their twisted plan. After the eighth miscarriage, they left me barren, my womb removed to save my life. They stole my children, my future, and my ability to ever be a mother. They thought I was a broken, naive princess. They had no idea they had just created a queen bent on revenge. Now, I'm back. And I will burn their empire to the ground, leaving them with nothing but the ashes of their betrayal.
His Stolen Luna, His Ultimate Regret

His Stolen Luna, His Ultimate Regret

 Werewolf
5.0
For five years, I was the fated mate of Alpha Alan, the Luna of the Bloodmoon Pack. But for all five of those years, his heart belonged to another woman—Fiona. On our shared birthday, the final thread of my hope snapped. I watched as she descended the grand staircase in a magnificent silver gown, a dress he had promised was a surprise for me. In front of the entire pack, she walked to him and kissed his cheek. He always claimed Fiona was a fragile, broken wolf who needed his protection. For years, I believed his lies. I endured his indifference while he gave my dreams to her, celebrating her birthday in secret while leaving me with the hollow title of Luna. When I confronted him, he dismissed my pain. "She just doesn't get it," he complained to Fiona, his voice seeping into my mind through our broken bond. "Thinking a mate title can chain me. It's suffocating." He thought he was suffocating? I was the one drowning in his neglect. He wasn't my mate; he was a coward, and I was just a cage he was forced into by the Goddess. So I walked out of the hall, and later, out of his life. I formally rejected him. As the bond shattered between us, he finally panicked, begging me to reconsider. But it was too late. I was done being his cage.
The Ex's Ruthless Revenge

The Ex's Ruthless Revenge

 Modern
5.0
My company, Innovate, was my life' s work, built from the ground up with my boyfriend, Caleb, over ten years. We were college sweethearts, a golden couple, and our biggest deal, a $50 million contract with Apex Ventures, was finally closing. Then, a sudden wave of nausea hit me, and I fainted, only to wake up in a hospital. When I returned to the office, my keycard was denied, my access revoked, and my photo, defaced with an "X," was in the trash. Krystal Schroeder, a young intern Caleb had hired, was sitting at my desk, acting like the new Chief of Operations. She announced loudly that "non-essential personnel" were to stay clear, looking directly at me. Caleb, the man who had promised me the world, stood by, his face cold and indifferent. He dismissed my pregnancy, calling it a distraction, and put me on mandatory leave. I saw a tube of Krystal' s bright red lipstick on Caleb' s desk, the same shade I' d seen on his collar. The pieces clicked: the late nights, the "business dinners," his sudden obsession with his phone-it was all a lie. They had been planning this for months. The man I loved was gone, replaced by a stranger. But I wouldn' t let them take everything. I told Caleb I was leaving, but not without my full share of the company, valued at the post-Apex funding price. I also reminded him that the core algorithm, the one Apex was investing in, was patented in my name alone. I walked out, pulling out my phone to call the one person I never thought I would: Easton Jensen, my fiercest rival.
My Twin, His Obsession

My Twin, His Obsession

 Romance
5.0
The air in Demian Oliver' s apartment was thick and hot, our bodies slick with sweat. This was it, the secret celebration of our graduation, the moment I had waited for. Then, in the peak of his passion, he whispered a name: "Finley." Not my name. My name is Finley Brooks. Finley is my younger twin sister. My whole body went cold. I found his phone, and a group chat called "The Conquest" revealed a picture of me sleeping in his bed, my back exposed. Messages confirmed my worst fears: "Consider this a warm-up. Gotta get familiar with the family before I go for the main prize." Two years of secret dates, stolen kisses, and whispered promises were all a lie. I was just a conquest, an appetizer for my own sister. The humiliation continued at the graduation party. My sister, Finley, publicly exposed the hickeys Demian had left on my neck, mocking me. Demian, the man I thought loved me, stood by and watched, his expression unreadable. Later, during a game of Truth or Dare, he publicly disowned me, forcing me to drink an entire bottle of vodka. I didn't understand. Why was I always the target? Why did my own family, and the man I loved, choose to humiliate me so cruelly? That night, I received an email: early admission to Crestwood Institute for Advanced Research, a secluded university thousands of miles away. It was my chance to escape, to become a ghost.
Winter's Betrayal: A Groom Left Behind

Winter's Betrayal: A Groom Left Behind

 Romance
5.0
For seven years, I, Liam Davies, built a life loving pop star Serena Vance, accepting her "Winter" persona as a quirky brand, a harmless aesthetic. Then, on our wedding day, a mysterious gift arrived, shattering her public smile and revealing a name: Donovan Thorne. Her face drained, her hands trembled, and as she lifted the lid, a single preserved white rose under glass mocked our seven years with its presence, proving her "Winter" was not a season, but a person-a dead person. She whispered, "I can't do this," and ran, leaving me at the altar, realizing I was just a placeholder for a ghost, a humiliating truth that twisted my stomach. When she tried to buy my silence and cooperation by threatening my sister Chloe' s life-saving medical treatment, a cold, hard resolve set in: she wouldn' t just lose a fiancé, she' d lose everything.
Her Betrayal, My Cancer, Our End

Her Betrayal, My Cancer, Our End

 Modern
5.0
The opening bell rang, deafeningly loud. Confetti rained down on the NASDAQ trading floor as our company, Innovatech, went public. My arm was around my wife, Sarah, smiling for the cameras. Millions of dollars, years of coding in my garage, all of it had paid off. I was on top of the world. Just two hours later, an antiseptic smell filled Dr. Chen' s sterile office. The smile was gone. "It's pancreatic cancer, Ethan," he said softly. "Stage four. It's...aggressive." The words hung heavy. IPO day. The best day of my life. And now this. The irony was a physical blow. I drove home in a daze, the city lights blurring. I needed to tell Sarah. We' d face this together. She was waiting when I walked into our large, empty house. Not smiling. Dressed in a sharp business suit, a leather briefcase on the coffee table. "Sarah," I started, my voice cracking, "I just came from the doctor's office. It's bad news." She held up a hand. "I know." Her voice was cold, completely devoid of emotion. "You know?" "I called Dr. Chen's office. The receptionist said he had an urgent appointment with you. I figured it was serious." She slid a thick stack of papers across the table. "These are divorce papers, Ethan." I stared at the documents, then back at her face. "Divorce? Now? Sarah, I have cancer." A small, ugly smirk played on her lips. "Exactly. My lawyer has already transferred the liquid assets. The IPO provided a lot of liquidity. It's better this way." "Better this way? I'm sick, Sarah! I'm dying!" "Don't be so dramatic," she scoffed, standing up. "Treatment would be a waste of money. Money that is now mine. You should just take whatever is left and enjoy your last few days. Don't waste it on doctors." She walked to the door. Her heels clicked loudly. She didn't look back once. The door closed, a soft, final click. I was alone. The divorce papers sat on the table, a testament to a decade. The confetti felt like a distant, faded memory. When Chloe, my childhood friend, inexplicably appeared at my doorstep, worry etched on her face, everything changed. She dropped her lucrative career for me. As I looked at her, then at the divorce papers, a dangerous plan began to solidify in my mind.
From Midland Wife to Port City Queen

From Midland Wife to Port City Queen

 Modern
5.0
The tiny plus sign on my pregnancy test was supposed to be the culmination of six years of IVF, a symbol of hope. But then, a notification flashed across my phone screen: Chloe Bishop, my husband Mark' s executive assistant. Her Instagram story showed Mark, my husband of almost six years, tenderly cutting steak for her. Her caption: "My boss is the sweetest... I'd do anything for him! 😉 #BestBoss" The date stamp? Last night, celebrating "3 Years!" Three years. We'd been married for almost six. The nausea intensified, but it wasn't just morning sickness; it was pure disgust. Mark' s call, dismissive, praising Chloe and her "lifesaving" efficiency, sealed it. He called me "dramatic." He was praising his mistress to his wife, who just found out she was pregnant with his child after years of heartbreaking treatments. The baby I' d fought so hard for, his baby, was conceived in a life built on his lie. His betrayal was blatant, then aggressive. Chloe slid into my apartment with a key during a blizzard, cozying up to him. She sent me a suggestive photo, then faked a frantic call about a "boyfriend" and a "private suite." On our sixth wedding anniversary, Mark abandoned me in my black dress for Chloe' s manufactured crisis, her fake pregnancy and suicide threat. How could he be so blind? So utterly, completely heartless? My quiet life had become a very loud, very ugly lie. It wasn't surprising anymore; it was just… final. But I wasn't just Ellie anymore. I was Eleanor Hayes. I signed the divorce papers, got the abortion, and left him a note with a rejected diamond ring. Then, I boarded a flight back to Port City, ready to unleash the true power he never knew I possessed.
The Impostor Husband

The Impostor Husband

 Romance
5.0
My husband Julian Hawthorne was supposed to be dead, a casualty of the corporate wars. But as the victory news echoed, a chilling memory resurfaced: he wasn't dead. He was a liar, a manipulator, and he' d returned, impersonating his twin, Damian. Just as I remembered his brutal betrayal-how he' d orchestrated my ruin while publicly adoring my stepsister Cassie-his mother, Isabelle, announced my fate: five years of deep mourning, social seclusion, and no remarriage. This was the same trap from my first life. When I defied her, Julian, playing the grieving brother, and Cassie, the picture of tearful devastation, tried to paint me as unhinged. Then, 'Damian' fastened a diamond pendant around Cassie' s neck-a design I' d created, a cruel symbol of their shared deception. The true horror wasn't just Julian's monstrous fraud, but Cassie's chilling confession: she knew. My own stepsister, complicit in plunging me into this gilded cage of despair. Stripped of everything, publicly shamed, I was adrift in a sea of their lies. But I refused to be a victim again. When facing utter disgrace, I demanded: "Is there any man here willing to marry me today?" Silence met my plea. Then, from the shadows, a calm voice cut through: "I am willing." Noah Kincaid. My unexpected salvation, or simply another pawn in the Hawthorne game? This time, I' d reclaim my destiny.
Trade For Love: Stick With Bossy Billionaire

Trade For Love: Stick With Bossy Billionaire

 Romance
4.8
A phone number got Laura into the romantic trap of that devil, Harrison, who enjoyed pushing people from the peak of happiness to the depths of hell. Since she used that number, she had to face the consequences. She thought she could win all of his gentlenesses, but what greeted her was unbearable devastation. Running away to in a panic, his cold voice sent a chill down her spine. “You have no way to escape, my girl. Come back to me now, or you will regret it.