Xiaoxiao Yunduoer
13 Published Stories
Xiaoxiao Yunduoer's Books and Stories
Reborn From Ashes: The Obsessive CEO's Claim
Modern My fiancé took me to an abandoned warehouse for what he called a private surprise proposal.
There was no ring.
Only champagne laced with drugs, my adoptive sister stepping out of the shadows, and the sound of them laughing while I collapsed at their feet.
Ethan told me I had never been his choice. I was only the obedient foster daughter the family needed for a merger. Seraphina was the woman he loved. The woman he had always loved.
Then he told me my brother Julian was dead because of him.
A staged truck accident. A convenient tragedy. One less person standing between them and everything they wanted.
By the time the truth finally sank in, the warehouse was soaked in gasoline, my body was failing, and the family I had spent my life trying to please had already buried me in their minds.
So I stopped begging.
I struck a lighter.
If they wanted a funeral, I would give them one.
The flames took the warehouse, my sister, and me with it.
Then I opened my eyes.
I was back in my bedroom.
Seven days before the betrayal.
Seven days before Ethan would try to murder me.
Seven days before everyone who had used me would learn that the girl they buried had come back wrong.
My phone rang.
Hayes Decker.
The ruthless Wall Street billionaire. The man powerful families feared, banks obeyed, and enemies disappeared beneath. The man whose obsessive marriage proposal I had once laughed off because I thought Ethan was my future.
This time, I answered.
His voice was cold, possessive, and dangerously calm.
"Marry me, Aria."
In my last life, I called him insane.
In this one, I smiled.
"Yes," I said. "Come get me right now."
I was not running to him for love.
I was choosing the only monster in New York terrifying enough to help me destroy the ones who killed me.
But Hayes Decker did not want a temporary alliance.
He wanted me.
Body, soul, name, future.
And the most dangerous part?
The longer he burned the world for me, the harder it became to remember that I had only meant to use him.
Escaping The Grasp Of My Billionaire
Romance Five years ago, I was the invisible scholarship charity case at an elite Manhattan prep school, trying to survive in a sea of trust-fund babies.
Arlo Hammond, the untouchable billionaire heir, made sure to completely dismantle my soul.
When his wealthy friends asked if he noticed me, his mocking laughter echoed down the hallway.
"Are you out of your mind? You seriously think I'd be interested in a boring little nerd like her?"
But the moment we were alone, he would corner me in dark alleys, pinning my wrists against brick walls with terrifying, possessive jealousy if my phone even buzzed. He played his twisted games until I was left standing in the rain with my shattered dignity.
Now, I am an Assistant District Attorney. I spent years burying those memories under mountains of legal files.
But tonight, he returned.
When we crossed paths at an exclusive club, he looked at me with the cool detachment he'd give a piece of furniture. In front of a crowd of elites, he coldly declared:
"We have absolutely nothing to do with each other anymore."
Then he walked away to pick up a supermodel, leaving me trembling from the sheer humiliation.
I didn't understand. If I was so worthless to him, why did he still have my birthday tattooed in dark ink on his wrist? Why did he look at me with such raw, painful vulnerability in the shadows?
I stared at my pale reflection in the mirror and made a silent vow.
I am not that pathetic seventeen-year-old anymore, and I will prove to him that I am completely, entirely over him. Reborn From Ashes: Divorcing The Billionaire
Modern I was tied to a concrete pillar in an abandoned warehouse, the heavy stench of gasoline suffocating me.
Ten steps away, a masked kidnapper slammed a loaded Glock onto a metal barrel and forced my husband, Alvie, to make a sick choice.
"The wife or the mistress. You only get to walk out of here with one."
Alvie didn't even blink.
He walked straight toward the dark corner where his mistress, Gail, was crying. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, shielding her, and guided her toward the exit.
He never looked back. He didn't cast a single glance over his shoulder. To him, I was already a corpse, just trash left on the pavement.
The kidnapper laughed and tossed a lighter onto the soaked concrete floor.
A wall of ghostly blue fire erupted instantly, swallowing me whole. The absolute agony of my skin blistering and melting shattered my sanity.
In my last moments, consumed by the inferno, I couldn't understand how the man I had loved and served so submissively could leave me to burn alive. My heartbreak quickly morphed into a hatred far deeper than the flames.
Then, I violently jerked awake.
I shot up from the bed, gasping for cold air, my hands frantically checking my perfectly smooth, unburned skin.
I looked at the desk clock. I had returned to exactly four years ago, the morning of the annual Gallagher family gathering.
The fragile, naive wife died in that warehouse. This time, I am going to destroy them both. No Longer A Pawn, Now A Queen
Modern 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
Modern 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
Romance 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
Romance 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
Romance 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
Modern 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
Modern 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
Fantasy 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
Fantasy 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. You might like
Flash Marriage to the Tycoon, I'm Spoiled Rotten
Hollow Echo Cast out by an "elite" family and mocked by high society, Elena shocked everyone by marrying the most powerful man in town.
They assumed it was a temporary arrangement-after all, he had said, "The agreement is for two years. After that, we're done."
Yet after the wedding, he refused to let her go. "Elena, you can't leave me."
As he doted on her, rumors shattered one by one. A renowned painter, top hacker, and tech mastermind-her true identities stunned the world.
When a luxury empire announced their lost heiress, all eyes turned to her. "Why did she look exactly like Elena?" Married To My Ex-Fiancé's Silent Uncle
Ming Yue Twenty minutes before the "Wedding of the Century" at The Plaza, I stood outside the Presidential Suite in a fifty-thousand-dollar Vera Wang gown. I was the girl from a West Virginia trailer park about to marry Hugh Maxwell, the golden heir to a billion-dollar defense empire.
I pushed the door open only to find Hugh pinned against the bed with my own stepsister, Floy. She was wearing my bridal diamond necklace, and the sounds of their laughter scraped against my eardrums like sandpaper.
I didn't scream; I listened as Hugh grunted that once the wedding was over and the trust fund unlocked, he'd dump "that hillbilly trash" on a bus back to the mountains. They weren't just cheating; they were planning to steal my family's land deeds and leave me with nothing. When I set off the sprinklers and exposed their naked bodies to the paparazzi, the Maxwell family didn't apologize. They called me a "greedy peasant" and threatened to ruin my life unless I signed a new deal to save their crashing stock.
I realized then that I was never a bride to them. I was a transaction, a rounding error in a ledger to be used and discarded. They thought my poverty made me weak and my silence made me a victim.
"If we don't have a marriage certificate by midnight, the bank freezes thirty percent of our liquidity," their lawyer warned.
So, I gave them exactly what they wanted. I used a loophole in their hundred-year-old family covenant and married the only other direct heir available. I didn't marry Hugh. I walked into the ICU and married his uncle, Fleet Maxwell-the legendary war hero who had been in a vegetative state for months.
Now, I am the matriarch of the Maxwell dynasty. I've suspended Hugh's executive powers, exiled my mother-in-law to the Swiss Alps, and taken control of the family vault. They think I'm just a gold-digger waiting for a "corpse" to die so I can collect a fifty-million-dollar widow's payout.
But last night, as I lay beside my comatose husband, the man they called a vegetable gripped my hand back. The Unwanted Wife Is A Zillionaire
Reilly Mcardle For seven years, I played the perfect, hidden wife to billionaire August Chambers while working quietly as an ER nurse.
Three days before our marriage contract expired, he stormed into my emergency room carrying a bleeding woman. It was Allena, his cousin's fiancée.
She had suffered a ruptured corpus luteum from their violent, aggressive sex. Instead of hiding his affair, August ordered me to clear the floor and threw a massive check at my face to buy my silence. Later, his friends trapped me in a VIP club. When a waiter tripped, August violently shoved me aside just to protect Allena from a spilled cup of coffee. I crashed into a glass table, a sharp edge slicing deep into my arm.
"Apologize to her, and I'll have my driver take you to the hospital."
As my blood soaked into the white rug, he stood over me, demanding I get on my knees for his mistress. He didn't know I had faked a miscarriage five years ago to secretly raise our daughter far away from his cruelty. He also didn't know the money he flaunted was pocket change compared to my hidden AI tech empire.
I calmly tied a tourniquet around my bleeding arm with my teeth and wiped my blood directly over his heart onto his custom suit.
"I'm done with you."
The submissive nurse was dead, and it was time to let him burn in the ruins of his own lies. 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!" Untouchable After Goodbye: She Had A Secret Empire
Mira Westfield "Let's get a divorce. She's pregnant and deserves a place in my life."
He once promised to protect Claire forever, yet when his first love returned, he cast her aside. For three years, Claire dimmed her brilliance, living quietly as the obedient wife behind him.
When he handed her divorce papers to give his pregnant mistress a place, Claire no longer hid her talents.
The woman he had overlooked was a legendary healer, racing prodigy, and a genius designer. After the divorce, she reclaimed her glory.
When he pleaded, "Honey, let's remarry," another man pulled her close. "She's my wife now. As for you... Someone, take him out and give him what he deserves!" Jilted Heiress: Marrying The Untouchable Tycoon
Piao Guo Allison Montgomery was waiting at the airport when an audio alert from her parked Range Rover flashed on her phone.
Assuming it was a break-in, she checked the live dashcam feed, only to see her fiancé, Finn, and her younger sister, Cheyanne, passionately making out in the backseat.
"Tell me I'm better than her," Cheyanne whispered. "Tell me I'm better than Allison."
"You are," Finn gasped. "God, you are."
When Allison confronted her family with the video, she expected justice.
Instead, her uncle and mother fiercely defended the cheaters.
They blamed Allison's "cold and frigid" nature for pushing Finn away, victim-blaming her in front of the entire household staff.
To protect their corporate alliance, her uncle ruthlessly announced that the engagement would be transferred to Cheyanne, and threatened to strip Allison of her inheritance.
Stripped of her fiancé, her family, and her dignity, Allison realized her pristine twenty-year life was a complete lie.
The people who were supposed to love her were actively protecting her abusers, leaving her utterly isolated and burning with a cold, protective rage.
Refusing to be their victim, Allison targeted Finn's ruthless, billionaire uncle, Adam Kensington, proposing a fake marriage to secure the capital needed to crush her family.
But when the notoriously untouchable Wall Street phantom not only accepted her proposal, but demanded she immediately move into his penthouse to raise his secret daughter, Allison realized she had just sold her soul to the devil. The Jilted Ex-Wife Is A Zillionaire
Felix Turner Isabel returned to her penthouse after a grueling seventeen-hour flight, only to be greeted by the cloying scent of another woman's perfume.
Her husband of three years, Darius, sat waiting with divorce papers. He wanted to marry his mistress, Dove, and offered Isabel a measly one million dollars, treating her like a greedy charity case from the Rust Belt who should just take the payout and vanish.
But Isabel didn't want his pity. She demanded the four percent equity stake in his family's company that she rightfully owned—a stake worth 1.5 billion dollars. When she revealed this, the wealthy family turned vicious. They refused to acknowledge that she had secretly saved their empire from bankruptcy years ago. Instead, Darius and Dove orchestrated a brutal public execution. They ambushed her at a top law firm, spreading malicious lies that her investment money was stolen from a Ponzi scheme. They even hired a fake victim to scream at her in the lobby, successfully terrifying Isabel's lawyer into dropping her case on the spot.
She had quietly rescued their entire legacy, yet they were willing to frame her as a criminal and destroy her life just to keep her rightful billions.
As Darius and his mistress gloated over her absolute ruin, the most ruthless and feared lawyer in New York suddenly stepped in front of Isabel, his voice cutting through the dead silence.
"Your case, I'll take it." Abandoned Ex-Wife: Now Untouchable
Tao Yaoyao My five-year-old daughter was dying in the ICU, her heartbeat replaced by the continuous, electronic scream of a flatline. I gripped her cold hand, my throat sealed shut by a terror so absolute I couldn't even cry out.
I dialed my husband Grayson's private number, the one reserved only for me and his assistants. He declined the call instantly. A second later, a text buzzed against my palm:
"In a meeting. Do not disturb. Stop calling."
Five miles away, Grayson was at a luxury gala, adjusting his silk tie and laughing with Belle Escobar. He told her I was just being "dramatic" and using our daughter's "fever" as an excuse to avoid the event. He had no idea Effie's heart had already stopped.
When I finally reached our penthouse, soaked from the rain and carrying Effie's small socks in a plastic bag, Grayson didn't even look at me. He snapped at me for ruining the hardwood floors and asked if I'd left Effie with the nanny just to "feel sorry for myself."
Three days later, while I buried our daughter in a small, lonely ceremony, Grayson was at the Hamptons. Belle posted a photo of him golfing with the caption: "A mental health day with the boys." He didn't even attend the funeral, but he returned home demanding I clear out Effie's room to make a study for Belle's son.
The injustice burned through me until there was nothing left. I swallowed a handful of sleeping pills, desperate to join my daughter. But instead of the darkness, I woke up to blinding lights and the scent of Grayson's expensive cologne.
I was standing in a ballroom, wearing a blue silk dress I had already burned. Above me, a banner read: "Happy 5th Birthday Kaiden & Effie."
I was back, exactly one year before the tragedy. This time, I wasn't going to be the grieving wife. I was going to be their worst nightmare. Phoenix Rising: The Scarred Heiress's Revenge
Xiao Hong Mao I lived as the "scarred ghost" of the Stephens penthouse, a wife kept in the shadows because my facial burns offended my billionaire husband's aesthetic. For years, I endured Kason's coldness and my family's abuse, a submissive puppet who believed she had nowhere else to go.
The end came with a blue folder tossed onto my silk sheets. Kason's mistress was back, and he wanted me out by sunset, offering a five-million-dollar "silence fee" to go hide my face in the countryside.
The betrayal cut deep when I discovered my father had already traded my divorce for a corporate bailout. My step-sister mocked my "trashy" appearance at a high-end boutique, while the sales staff treated me like a common thief. At home, my father threatened to cut off my mother's life-saving medicine unless I crawled back to Kason to beg for a better deal.
I was the girl who took the blame for a fire she didn't start, the wife who worshipped a man who never looked her in the eye, and the daughter used as a human bargaining chip. I was supposed to be broken, penniless, and desperate.
But the woman who stood up wasn't the weak Elease Finch anymore; she was Phoenix, a tactical predator with a $500 million secret. I signed the divorce papers without a single tear, walked past my stunned husband, and wiped the Finch family's bank accounts clean with a few taps on my phone.
"Your money is dirty," I told Kason with a cold smile. "I prefer clean hands."
The cage is open, the hunt has begun, and I'm starting with the people who thought a scar made me weak. 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." 
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