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Xiaoxiao Yunduoer

10 Published Stories

Xiaoxiao Yunduoer's Books and Stories

No Longer A Pawn, Now A Queen

No Longer A Pawn, Now A Queen

 Modern
5.0
For five years, I lived in a gilded cage, believing I was the cherished orphan saved by the wealthy Estrada family. They gave me a home, a career as an architect, and their son, Andres, as my fiancé. They told me my best friend, Dyan, had betrayed me. I believed them. Then one night, I found Andres with his real family. His wife was Dyan, and they had a son. My entire life was a lie, orchestrated and funded by the very people who called me their daughter. I was just a placeholder. Worse, I overheard their plan to drug me at an upcoming gala and have me quietly institutionalized, a final, neat disposal of their "grateful" prop. "She probably bought it, bless her naive heart," Andres had laughed. "She always does." They thought I was a pawn they could discard. But as I stood in the shadows, watching their perfect, secret life, the grief inside me hardened into a cold, sharp fury. They taught me how to build an empire. Now, I would show them how to tear one down.
Revenge Is A Daughter's Sweetest Dish

Revenge Is A Daughter's Sweetest Dish

 Modern
5.0
The first time I died, it was from a cancer my mother couldn' t afford. My father, who had left us for his wealthy mistress, refused to pay for my treatment. In a desperate attempt to save me, my mother tried to sell her kidney on the black market. She was scammed and left to die in an alley. She died of an infection a week before I finally succumbed to the cancer, alone in a hospital bed. I' ll never forget him telling my begging mother that his new family had expenses, handing her a few hundred dollars as if she were trash. Then, I opened my eyes. I was fourteen again, healthy, watching the divorce happen all over again. My father looked at me, expecting me to choose my mother. "Blake," he said, "you' ll have to choose who you want to live with." I remembered the hunger, the cold, and my mother' s broken body. I met her tear-filled eyes, my own heart shattering. "I choose Dad."
His Betrayal, Her Ghostly Promise

His Betrayal, Her Ghostly Promise

 Romance
5.0
My husband, Darius Madden, and I were the tech world's perfect couple. He was the charismatic CEO of the empire we built together, and I was the reclusive genius, the unseen force behind our success. Our love story was a PR masterpiece everyone adored. Then I discovered the truth was a far uglier thing. He wasn't just having an affair with a model and influencer with millions of followers named Kaylee. The perfect partnership was a lie. While he held my hand on a Ferris wheel, he was simultaneously on his other phone, scrolling through Kaylee's latest Facebook post. I saw him authorize a massive public donation in her name, then post a comment for thousands to see: "Of course I love Kaylee more." The final blow came as a text from an unknown number. It was a photo of a sonogram report. Kaylee was pregnant with his child. A vow I made to him years ago, one he had laughed off, echoed in my mind like a prophecy. "I will never tolerate betrayal. If you ever cheat on me, I will disappear from your life forever. You will never find me." So I made a call. I activated a protocol to permanently erase my identity, to become a ghost. For our anniversary, I left him a beautifully wrapped gift box. Inside were the signed divorce papers. This time, I was keeping my promise.
Rejection's Fury: A Wife's Return

Rejection's Fury: A Wife's Return

 Romance
5.0
I stood in front of City Hall, clutching a marriage license application, waiting for the man I' d loved for five years. He was late. Again. This was the 99th time Damien Crawford had chosen someone else over me. But this time, a picture on my phone showed him smiling with his high school sweetheart, Hadley Stuart, the woman he' d never gotten over. When I returned to his mansion, Hadley was curled up next to him, his mother beaming. His mother, Cecil, gave Hadley a family heirloom bracelet, dismissing me as a servant. Damien, instead of apologizing, grabbed my arm, accusing me of a tantrum. He still thought he was in control. I showed him the torn marriage license, telling him I wanted nothing from him anymore. He responded by dragging me to my room, pushing me against the wall, and trying to kiss me. I told him he was dirty. Then, my father collapsed. Damien, seeing the jacket a male security guard had given me, refused to let me take my dying father to the hospital, claiming Hadley was having a panic attack. His mother, Cecil, slashed the car tires and threw the keys into a fountain, laughing as my father stopped breathing. My father died. At the hospital, Damien jabbed an acupuncture needle into my hand, telling me it was what happened when I disobeyed him. He still didn't know the scar on my back was from the skin graft I gave him. Why did I sacrifice everything for a man who saw me as property, who let my father die? Why did I stay for five years, only to be treated like dirt? I called Anderson, my adoptive brother, the CEO of the Morrison Group. It was time to go home. It was time for Damien Crawford to pay.
The Fiancee Who Stole My Life

The Fiancee Who Stole My Life

 Romance
5.0
The company was in chaos. My fiancée, Olivia Hayes, CEO of Hayes Innovations, was announcing her engagement to her high school sweetheart, Daniel Sterling. But the tech world wasn' t buzzing about their reunited love story; it was buzzing about something else-my disappearance. I was gone, vanished, while Olivia, arm-in-arm with Daniel, declared on live television that her wedding gift would be the patent for "Prometheus AI" -my life' s work, which I called Aegis. It was intended for her, a wedding gift from me. Watching from a hotel room in Zurich, I saw my life publicly dismantled. The comment sections cheered on their "love story," calling them a power couple, while I was dismissed as the "forgotten partner." Daniel sealed my humiliation with a passionate kiss, claiming our shared history. Then, Olivia, triumphant, announced Daniel would fund Prometheus' s next phase, holding up my creation as her dowry. My genius, the culmination of years of secret work, was being used to celebrate my own betrayal. The sudden, urgent "business trip" she' d arranged for me, her insistence I go alone-it was all a deliberate trap to get me out of the way. She thought I was just a tech entrepreneur, but I was a prodigy, recruited by a clandestine government agency; Aegis, her "Prometheus," was a strategic asset for the U.S. government-and announcing it as her dowry was a federal crime. My phone vibrated with her hollow apologies. But I felt no anger, no heartbreak, just profound weariness. The man who loved Olivia Hayes was gone, replaced by someone colder, harder. I looked at the glittering Zurich lights, and I knew what I had to do. I picked up the phone, scrolled to an unlisted contact: Agent Smith. "Miller," a gruff voice answered. "It's 3 a.m. here. This had better be a matter of national security." "It is," I said, my voice devoid of emotion. "Get me a flight. I' m coming home. Now."
Deported Mistress, Destroyed Husband

Deported Mistress, Destroyed Husband

 Modern
5.0
I thought I' d solved my marriage crisis the way any woman from a powerful D.C. family would: I used my influence to get my husband' s mistress deported. My husband, Colonel Ethan Scott, even came home, promising repentance and a fresh start. Two days later, the private jet carrying my father, the former Secretary of State, and my brother, a rising star at the Department of Justice, went down over the Atlantic. As I stood grieving, the man I loved, the man I built, answered a call, casually ordering the disposal of my family' s bodies and discussing the tasteless drug he' d just forced on me – a sterilization agent. He had orchestrated it all. My world shattered as the monster I married carried me into our Georgetown home, convinced I was just another grieving wife. He then publicly humiliated me, having his mistress stage a fall and whipping me with his belt in front of a crowd, leaving me kneeling in the street like a dog. I couldn't fathom such pure evil, nor the depths of my own betrayal. But what he didn't know was about my father' s secret safe, and the blank presidential pardon inside. This wasn' t the end of me; it was the start of my war.
Left for Dead: A Quarterback's Revenge

Left for Dead: A Quarterback's Revenge

 Modern
5.0
One moment, I was a star quarterback, riding high on campus, about to marry my beautiful fiancée, Nicole. The next, I was zip-tied and dumped on a desolate island, a canvas bag yanked from my head, blinding sun in my eyes. My fiancée Nicole, her best friend Tara, and my so-called "little brother" Caleb stood offshore, watching, their faces devoid of pity as they left me for dead, framed for a crime I didn't commit. Every desperate call home was met with betrayal: my own father, easily manipulated, disowned me, convinced I was responsible, leaving me utterly alone to face the snakes and starvation. As I lay dying in the sand, abandoned and cursed by everyone I thought cared, a cold, burning rage ignited within, sparking a singular thought: I would not just survive, I would return, and they would pay.
Her Buried Truth

Her Buried Truth

 Fantasy
5.0
It' s been seven long years since Eliza Hayes, my mother, was branded a "fallen woman" and supposedly died in the desolate Outlands. Now, a sickness grips our commune, whispered to be my mother's curse. Reverend Marcus Thorne, my father, once her beloved husband, is forced to lead an expedition to her supposed grave, to "cleanse" her remains and end her rumored influence. At that crude pile of stones, my eight-year-old self, a wild child of the Outlands, emerged from the shadows, clutching the wooden bluebird my mother gifted me. "My mother' s spirit will find justice," I declared, my voice steady. That's when they unearthed an antique silver locket from the grave-a gift from Marcus, a secret from their youth. Then, a voice from the past filled the air: Eliza' s. It spoke of betrayal-of my aunt Abigail, Marcus' s new wife, drugging him and taking Eliza' s place at their wedding. It recounted years of Abigail' s cruel manipulations, framing Eliza for countless misdeeds, even using Marcus' s own trust to banish her. The locket revealed her desperate cold penance, losing their first child-a baby they never knew existed. Marcus' s world shattered. He was caught between his past and present, writhing in guilt and disbelief. I had to ask him, "Did you protect her?", cutting through the noise of denial. This wasn't just a sad story; it was a deeply buried conspiracy, a monstrous injustice disguised as divine judgment. But the locket was only the beginning. With blood from a fresh cut, I pressed my hand to my sacred wooden bluebird, unleashing a torrent of visions. The truth screamed out: Abigail hadn't just tormented Eliza, she had conspired with brutal Outlands gangs, sacrificing innocent women and orchestrating a heinous frame-up that led to my pregnant mother' s exile. The time for silent suffering is over. The true hunt for justice has begun.
Too Late, Mr. Thorne: Her Heaven, Your Hell

Too Late, Mr. Thorne: Her Heaven, Your Hell

 Fantasy
5.0
My life with Marcus Thorne was a fairytale, shielded by his ruthless power and what I thought was unwavering love. He was whispered about in D.C. elite circles-powerful, ruthless, yet always gentle with me, his Eleanor. Our legendary love story began years ago when he saved me, promising protection and building our world around him. Then, at a glittering D.C. gala, chaos erupted: gunfire, and his young operative, Izzy, took a bullet meant for him. But suddenly, the devoted man I knew vanished, replaced by a cold stranger fixated on Izzy, claiming a convenient amnesia. He then insisted I donate bone marrow for her "experimental treatment," disregarding doctors' warnings about my delicate pregnancy. I endured Izzy's endless demands and his chilling indifference as our long-awaited child, conceived after years of yearning, slipped away due to the procedure. My heart shattered, watching him dote on Izzy, who relished in my public humiliation. Then, I overheard his chilling confession: his "amnesia" was a calculated lie, and our baby' s death merely a "tragic necessity" to repay his supposed debt to her. The man I married, who vowed to protect me, had deliberately sacrificed our child, our future, for a cold, calculated lie. My world collapsed, my deep love turning to ashes, leaving only a hollow, burning rage. How could the man I adored be such a monster, so casually dismissing our child' s very life? I was merely a pawn in his twisted game, living a carefully constructed deception. But I refused to be his victim anymore. With every shred of my being, I resolved to disappear, to utterly erase Eleanor Thorne and reclaim my autonomy. This time, I would emerge a phoenix, not a pawn.
Hidden Marriage: Sweetie, No Way To Run Away

Hidden Marriage: Sweetie, No Way To Run Away

 Romance
4.6
It was the worst thing that could ever happen to Core. Her boss handed her a horrible assignment---an interview with her husband, a prominent figure in the city's entertainment circle, regarding the gossips surrounding him. Core was the bride whom Winson had spent thirty million dollars on. Her father had personally pushed her into Winson's arms. She couldn't keep her dignity or her self-esteem in front of this man. Her only goal, for now, was to make enough money to pay off her debts. She had to buy back her freedom from him. Regardless of her efforts, he kept her close to him using all kinds of tricks. He wanted her trapped with him for the rest of her life.