Xia Qingnuan
15 Published Stories
Xia Qingnuan's Books and Stories
He Chose Her Lies, I Chose Revenge
Mafia I was the spare daughter of the Vitiello crime family, born solely to provide organs for my golden sister, Isabella.
Four years ago, under the codename "Seven," I nursed Dante Moretti, the Don of Chicago, back to health in a safe house. I was the one who held him in the dark.
But Isabella stole my name, my credit, and the man I loved.
Now, Dante looked at me with nothing but cold disgust, believing her lies.
When a neon sign crashed down on the street, Dante used his body to shield Isabella, leaving me to be crushed under twisted steel.
While Isabella sat in a VIP suite crying over a scratch, I lay broken, listening to my parents discuss if my kidneys were still viable for harvest.
The final straw came at their engagement gala. When Dante saw me wearing the lava stone bracelet I had worn in the safe house, he accused me of stealing it from Isabella.
He ordered my father to punish me.
I took fifty lashes to my back while Dante covered Isabella's eyes, protecting her from the ugly truth.
That night, the love in my heart finally died.
On the morning of their wedding, I handed Dante a gift box containing a cassette tape-the only proof that I was Seven.
Then, I signed the papers disowning my family, threw my phone out the car window, and boarded a one-way flight to Sydney.
By the time Dante listens to that tape and realizes he married a monster, I will be thousands of miles away, never to return. My Cheating Ex's Ultimatum Backfired
Romance For years, I was the perfect girlfriend, funding my boyfriend Carlton' s startup with my own money. My role was simple: be supportive, unseen, and unheard while his childhood friend, Brande, claimed the space by his side that should have been mine.
On the way to a tech conference that could make his career, I saw the brutal truth I' d been denying. There, on Brande' s neck, was a fresh, dark hickey.
She was curled up in his lap, her hand on his thigh, and he stroked her hair as if it were the most natural thing in the world. When I finally reacted, he called me harsh and told me to be the bigger person.
Later, when I wore a dress he deemed "too much," he gave me an ultimatum.
"If you walk out that door in that dress, we're done."
My love, my money, my support-it was all just fuel for his ambition and their affair. I was a fool. A well-funded, supportive fool.
But as I sat in the back, pushed into a corner, my shoulder bumped against his step-brother, the cold, powerful investor Harvey Hurst. And fueled by a reckless wave of defiance, I didn't pull away. Instead, I leaned into him, and for the first time in a long time, I made a decision that was all my own. Stealing The Groom For Sweet Revenge
Romance I was an unwanted foster kid taken in by the Goodwin family, about to marry into the wealthy Cantu family to secure my adoptive father's power.
But at my rehearsal dinner, my adoptive mother drugged my champagne, intending to have me assaulted and ruined.
The next morning, my fiancé and my sister burst into my hotel room with a swarm of reporters, pointing fingers in manufactured horror.
"You filthy whore! The engagement is over!"
My fiancé roared for the cameras, while my sister sobbed about my betrayal. They had brought the press to publicly slaughter me, justifying their own secret affair while my adoptive family cursed me as a disgusting stray.
For years, I had endured their toxic abuse, only to be thrown to the wolves so my sister could steal my life. They truly believed I was just a helpless pawn they could crush and discard.
But they didn't know I had anticipated their trap and deliberately walked into the bed of Dorian Underwood—the ruthless billionaire and the only man the Cantu family actually feared.
As I calmly hit 'send' to broadcast my fiancé's explicit sex tape to every reporter in the hallway, I met Dorian's dark, predatory gaze.
I wasn't just surviving anymore; I was going to tear both their empires to the ground. From Frozen Betrayal To Fierce Love
Modern The first sign I was going to die wasn't the blizzard. It wasn't the bone-deep cold. It was the look in my fiancé's eyes when he told me he had given my life's work-our only guarantee of survival-to another woman.
"Kelsi was freezing," he said, as if I were being unreasonable. "You're the expert, you can handle it."
He then took my satellite phone, shoved me into a hastily dug snow pit, and left me to die.
His new girlfriend, Kelsi, appeared, wrapped snugly in my shimmering smart blanket. She smiled as she used my own ice axe to slash my suit, my last layer of protection against the storm.
"Stop being so dramatic," he told me, his voice full of contempt as I lay there freezing to death.
They thought they had taken everything. They thought they had won.
But they didn't know about the secret emergency beacon I had stitched into my sleeve. And with my last ounce of strength, I activated it. The Billionaire's Most Painful Regret
Mafia I was the wife of the De Luca crime family's Underboss, a beautiful statue whose only purpose was to produce an heir. But after five years, my body had failed.
The day my husband, Alessandro, told me I was barren, he also introduced me to my replacement. He called her a "vessel," a temporary arrangement, but I saw the infatuation in his eyes.
He promised it was just business, but soon he was calling me a "cold statue" behind my back while spending every night with her. The ultimate humiliation came at my birthday party. When a champagne fountain shattered and sliced my arm open, he ignored me bleeding on the floor to shield her instead.
In front of his entire family, the Underboss chose his mistress over his wife.
He left me there, my honor shattered as completely as the glass. I was no longer just a failed wife. I was an obstacle. And in our world, obstacles are removed.
But my arrogant husband didn't know his own father had a contingency plan to protect me. While he was distracted by his mistress's fake pregnancy, he unknowingly signed our divorce papers. My disappearance was no longer an escape; it was the start of my revenge. Reborn From Their Cold Betrayal
Romance The marriage contract that would merge our two corporate empires was laid out before me. I was supposed to sign my life away to Jace Robertson, the man I had loved since we were kids.
But my love had been burned away the night the chandelier fell. When it came crashing down, my fiancé didn't pull me to safety. He shoved me aside to shield my cousin, Cassidy, with his own body.
He chose her. Instinctively.
My own mother rushed to her side, later telling me I needed to be more understanding. "Cassidy has always been delicate, Ellie. Jace did the right thing."
It was then I remembered everything. In my last life, I died alone in a cold hospital room from a cancer they found too late. Jace was on a romantic trip to the Amalfi Coast with Cassidy. My mother was at a charity luncheon.
My last thought was a regret so deep it could tear a hole in the universe. I had wasted my one precious life on people who saw me as nothing more than a stepping stone.
But now, I was back. The pen was in my hand, the contract on the table. Jace wanted Cassidy. My mother adored her. Fine. Let them have each other.
With a steady hand, I drew a single, clean line through my name on the signature line and wrote in a new one: CASSIDY COLEMAN.
This time, I would live for myself. A Wife's Vengeful Return
Modern My fiancé, Daniel, wasn' t just late for our fifth anniversary; his assistant, Sophie, informed me he sent his apologies from a client dinner. I stood in our "Dream Home," a monument to our shared ambitions, feeling an icy premonition.
Then, Daniel burst in, a raging storm, accusing me. "What did you do, Olivia?" he snarled. Sophie–his new assistant–was in the hospital, suffering a panic attack, claiming I' d threatened her. His eyes, once full of love, now burned with cold rage fueled by her lies.
He seized a glass vase, shattering it against the wall, its splintering echoing my collapsing world. Pinning me against the fireplace, he threatened to destroy my career, to blackball me if I ever went near Sophie again. Later, Sophie herself arrived, dripping fake sympathy and flaunting a new cashmere sweater Daniel had bought her. She spoke of Daniel' s concern, but her words were exquisitely crafted barbs.
I was left stunned, struggling to grasp the sudden, brutal betrayal. How could Daniel, the man who' d promised to build worlds with me, believe such blatant lies and turn on me so viciously? It felt impossible, yet here I was, trapped in a nightmare.
Days later, finding a tiny stray kitten, Ash, brought a sliver of peace. But it was fleeting. Sophie soon appeared, hysterical, accusing me of poisoning her prize-winning Persian cat. She produced a scrap of my silk scarf, clutched in its paw, as "proof." This time, I refused to be his villain. I vowed to expose her. A Quiet Man's Vengeance
Modern My mother-in-law, Martha, was a human storm cloud, always hovering, always raining contempt on my life as a writer.
When she and my father-in-law arrived for an "extended visit" for her "medical tests," the already thick air in our suburban home became suffocating.
Her sharp voice, accusing me of getting lost and being "not a real man," was a familiar prick, but when she scoffed at my profession and questioned my ability to provide, I felt the familiar burn of frustration turn into a deep, internal ache.
My wife, Olivia, usually my shield, tried to protect me, arguing with her mother, claiming Martha's alleged brain tumor made her unpredictable.
But then, a chilling comment slipped from Martha' s lips: she asked Olivia why she hadn't called from Miami, not New York, where her business trip was supposed to be.
Olivia quickly dismissed it as her mother' s confusion, but a sliver of doubt, sharp and cold, lodged itself in my mind.
This wasn' t just Martha' s cruelty; something darker, more insidious was at play, shaking the very foundation of my trust.
Later, my seemingly harmless neighbor, Mark, offered cryptic warnings about "protecting the throne" and people "sneaking in the back door."
His knowing smirk, coupled with Martha's strange slip, began to twist my unease into a sickening suspicion.
I had to know. I had to know if the quiet life I' d built, the love I cherished, was nothing more than a carefully constructed lie. Fifteen Years: His Turn To Play
Modern The sleek leather of my 50th-floor office chair felt real, the hum of the AC familiar. I was Andrew Scott, Wall Street rising star, not ex-con '734'.
Then, the intercom buzzed. My assistant, voice tight with panic: "Mr. Scott, it's Ryan Clark...about Jenny...an accident."
A physical blow. The exact same words. Fifteen years in a concrete box, the taste of stale bread, followed by the blinding Hamptons sun, Jenny-my dead wife-laughing with Ryan, their son looking exactly like him. The final memory: a dark New Jersey alley, the smell of garbage and my own blood. It wasn't a nightmare; it was my life, and it ended.
But I wasn't dead.
My heart pounded, not with fear for the woman I loved and our unborn child as it had before, but with a cold, hard rage. They had played their game, and I had lost everything.
Now, it was my turn. And this time, I knew all their moves. The President's Downfall: A Second Chance at Revenge
Romance The cold gurney, the execution chamber ceiling, then a familiar, hateful face: Kevin, my ex-fiancé, the President.
He was there to watch me die, bloodshot eyes, rumpled suit, looking deranged.
Treason, they said. A lie so colossal it had already swallowed my father, my sister, my entire family.
His whispered words were a final, chilling insult: "I found her, you know. Crystal. She was happy. You took her from me. You murdered the woman I loved."
My vision blurred as the lethal cocktail burned, my tongue heavy with the truth I couldn't speak – that I' d saved Crystal, not hidden her for myself.
His face, twisted with a grief entirely his own twisted invention, was the last thing I saw before blackness swallowed me.
Then, a gasp tore from my lungs, and I was bolt upright in my own silk sheets, sunlight streaming into my Georgetown townhouse.
My phone buzzed. Kevin. The date on the screen made my blood run cold: today was the day he was supposed to run off with Crystal Vance.
My "first life" had begun its nosedive on this very day.
This time, it would be different. This time, I knew the enemy. And this time, I would not be merciful. Freedom's Price, Love's Reward
Romance For five years, I was Jessica Blackwood' s executive assistant. My life was a gilded cage, controlled by her tyrannical father, Arthur. My arranged marriage to Liam Walker, his Head of Security, was a cold, unconsummated sham; we were strangers under one roof.
Driven to despair by Arthur' s control over her dreams of motherhood, Jess and I planned the unthinkable: fake our deaths. But the night before my staged "accident," Liam, my stoic husband, showed an unexpected vulnerability, leading to a passionate connection that upended everything.
I faked my death and began our "free" life in Aspen with Jess. Then, a shock: we were both pregnant-Liam' s child for me. Our perfect escape now felt too managed, a new, subtle prison. Soon, news broke: Jess was "institutionalized" for a mental breakdown.
Fury and despair consumed me. Arthur had viciously re-trapped Jess, aiming for her unborn child. A gnawing question plagued me: Was Liam part of this new cage? Was our passionate night merely a calculated manipulation? Had our defiance been utterly futile?
Heavily pregnant, I vowed to return and dismantle Arthur' s empire, freeing Jess at any cost. But on my journey, my car was ambushed. The masked man was no stranger. It was Liam, revealing a shattering truth about our past and the true identity of our enemy. They Forged The Shadow
Fantasy I, Aurora, last heir of the Sunstone, stood ready for my Unity Ceremony with Ethan, leader of the Stormriver, a sacred bond prophesied to secure our lands. I believed in our shared duty, even in a slowly blooming love for him.
But at the altar, Ethan publically scorned me, declaring his "true love" for my trusted aide, Sylvie, shattering our alliance and the very foundation of our world.
The Council, dazzled by his reckless display of power and Sylvie' s fabricated innocence, abandoned me and my lineage, allowing Ethan to devastate our Sunstone Valley, extinguishing my peoples' light and our sacred Sun-crystals. Then, as I prepared for my crucial Solar Renewal, he shattered my power core and entombed me alive in a collapsing mountain.
How could the very people I was sworn to protect, including the man I considered my dearest, fall so utterly blind to a manipulative lie, sacrificing everything for a power-hungry charade?
They thought they had buried a guardian, but they merely forged the Shadow. I did not die in that tomb; I was reborn as the formidable Shadow Sovereign, and now, armed with terrifying darkness, I will make every betrayer regret their choices. When Memories Lie
Fantasy Thanksgiving. I was back home in rural Vermont, sifting through our old attic, looking for ornaments.
Then I found it: a Polaroid of a 10-year-old me with a boy named "Cousin Leo," a cousin I’d never heard of, who then vanished from the photo right before my eyes.
My family insisted Leo was real, eagerly anticipating his arrival, but their stories about him were a chaotic mess of contradictions—tall, short, professor, contractor, living everywhere and nowhere. They had no photos, no contact info, nothing tangible. Yet, strange toys appeared, my niece claimed he visited, and an unseen voice called from our empty porch.
Was I losing my mind, or were they all caught in some bizarre, shared delusion? They blamed my childhood memory gaps, conveniently dismissing the chilling inconsistencies only I seemed to see. The warm, familiar holiday turned cold, filled with an unsettling unease.
As their cheerful "memories" curdled into whispers of strange encounters and empty eyes, I realized this wasn't just confusion—something far darker was at play, and I was the only one who could unearth the truth about this phantom cousin. 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.
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. No Tears For My Cold Mafia Husband
Amigo On our first wedding anniversary, my husband walked out the door.
Not for business. For her.
I left the divorce papers on the table, my wedding ring next to his untouched champagne, and I disappeared into the night.
For a year, I watched Dominic Rossi—the ruthless Underboss of the New York syndicate—drop everything the moment his phone buzzed with another crisis from Sophia. A panic attack. A sleepless night. A lie. I was his wife, the woman he’d promised to cherish, but I was never his priority.
So I chose myself.
Now he’s tearing the city apart trying to find me. But I’m already gone—building a new life with a job that’s mine, an apartment that’s mine, and a name that doesn’t belong to him. The girl who waited in that penthouse is dead. The woman who walked out isn’t looking back.
When Dominic finally corners me, I see the cracks in his armor. He says he’s sorry. He says he loves me. He says he finally understands.
But some words are too late, and some promises can’t be fixed.
He made me guess for a year. Now it’s his turn to wonder if I’ll ever come back.
A heart-wrenching, standalone mafia romance about a woman who refused to be second choice, and the man who learned too late what he’d lost. The Underboss's Obsession: Stealing The Bride
Diversion Three days before the wedding.
I was hiding in the dressing room, watching my fiancé caress the swollen belly of another woman.
Luca, the man who had saved my life five years ago, was smiling at his mistress, Sofia. But the real knife to the heart wasn't the affair—it was the dress.
The custom wedding gown he had "lovingly" ordered for me featured intricate silver embroidery along the hem.
It didn't spell Elena.
It read Sofia.
He was planning to make me walk down the aisle wearing his mistress's name.
Later that night, I found a video of him mocking me to his crew, calling me a "dead fish" and admitting he only wanted my family's Capo status. He planned to keep his "true love" on the side while I played the role of the oblivious, ornamental wife.
He thought I was just a sheltered princess. He forgot that my bloodline was built on vengeance.
I didn't cry. I didn't confront him. Instead, I scrubbed his scent off my skin and dialed a number everyone in Chicago feared.
"The pact with the Cavallaro family," I asked my father, my voice cold as stone. "Is it still valid?"
"Dante is the Underboss now," my father warned. "He is a butcher. He breaks men for sport."
"Good," I replied. "I am done playing with boys."
I secretly booked the Gold Ballroom across the hall from my original venue. Luca thought he was walking into a marriage on Saturday.
He didn't know I was bringing a monster to the altar instead. 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. Ravaged Crown - A Mafia Romance
Nicole Fox What would you do if you walked in on your husband cheating?
I'll tell you what I did:
Ran out the door with nothing but the clothes on my back.
A month later, I'm broke, jobless, almost homeless.
But then, while filling in as a waitress at a fancy restaurant, I trip and land in the lap of a gorgeous stranger.
One thing leads to another and we end up hooking up.
Afterwards, he leaves.
That's the end of that... right?
WRONG.
Because the next day, my temp agency sets me up for a job t
hat seems too good to be true. But when I arrive for the interview, my jaw drops. It's the stranger. Turns out he's rich. Like, very rich. And powerful. Like, very powerful. And here's his offer:
"Live in my house.Be my wife.Have my baby."
Needless to say, I start to freak out.
I stand up and stammer, "Um, I'll have to get back to you..."
And he replies:
"You're misunderstanding.It wasn't a question. You're not going anywhere." The Unwanted Bride Becomes The City's Queen
Breeze I was the spare daughter of the Vitiello crime family, born solely to provide organs for my golden sister, Isabella.
Four years ago, under the codename "Seven," I nursed Dante Moretti, the Don of Chicago, back to health in a safe house. I was the one who held him in the dark.
But Isabella stole my name, my credit, and the man I loved.
Now, Dante looked at me with nothing but cold disgust, believing her lies.
When a neon sign crashed down on the street, Dante used his body to shield Isabella, leaving me to be crushed under twisted steel.
While Isabella sat in a VIP suite crying over a scratch, I lay broken, listening to my parents discuss if my kidneys were still viable for harvest.
The final straw came at their engagement gala. When Dante saw me wearing the lava stone bracelet I had worn in the safe house, he accused me of stealing it from Isabella.
He ordered my father to punish me.
I took fifty lashes to my back while Dante covered Isabella's eyes, protecting her from the ugly truth.
That night, the love in my heart finally died.
On the morning of their wedding, I handed Dante a gift box containing a cassette tape—the only proof that I was Seven.
Then, I signed the papers disowning my family, threw my phone out the car window, and boarded a one-way flight to Sydney.
By the time Dante listens to that tape and realizes he married a monster, I will be thousands of miles away, never to return. From Jilted Bride To Mafia Empress
Xiao Wang For seven years, I was the architect of my fiancé's criminal empire and the strategist behind his every move. I was Dante Gallo’s unofficial Consigliere, his partner in everything but name. Tomorrow, I was finally supposed to marry him and take my place as the queen to his throne.
But on the eve of our wedding, a single text message sent by mistake detonated my life. It was a photo from Dante, showing a platinum wedding band on his hand. The message read: “Married this morning. She’s safe now.”
My gaze fell to the engagement ring on my own finger. It was the identical band, just smaller. The engraved initials ‘D.I.’ didn’t stand for Dante and I. They stood for Dante and Isabella—his childhood sweetheart. My entire relationship was a lie; I was just a shield to protect his one true love.
He dismissed my discovery as a "tantrum." Then, his new bride began taunting me, sending a picture of them tangled in bedsheets with the caption: "Loser." They expected me to break. They thought I would shatter.
They were about to find out just how wrong they were. I forwarded the picture to Isabella’s fiancé, a man far more dangerous than Dante. "Your fiancée is in Suite 8808 at the Grand Hyatt," I told him. "I'll meet you downstairs. We're going to crash their party." 
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