Xing Jiayi
15 Published Stories
Xing Jiayi's Books and Stories
Shattered Vows: The Genius Doctor's Revenge
Billionaires As the fetal monitor screamed in the delivery room, Danae begged the nurses to call her billionaire husband to save their dying baby.
Instead of Adrian, his chief lawyer arrived with a chilling directive: all emergency interventions were explicitly denied.
While security guards pinned her arms to the mattress, Danae was forced to listen to her baby's heartbeat flatline. The lawyer simply dropped divorce papers on her bed and walked out. A sympathetic doctor helped Danae fake her own death to escape the family. Stripped of her assets and kicked out into the freezing rain, she tried to drown herself with her child's ashes, only to be saved by a mysterious benefactor.
Three years later, Danae returned as a top medical researcher. But at a high-profile symposium, she crossed paths with Adrian and his new fiancée—a cheap lookalike of Danae. The woman maliciously staged a bloody miscarriage using a restricted chemical, perfectly framing Danae's lab for the crime.
Adrian pinned Danae against the wall, his eyes black with rage, vowing to make her beg for death. Three years ago, he let their real child die without even answering the phone. Now, he was ready to destroy her over a fake pregnancy.
Just as Adrian's private guards dragged her away to be locked up, the hospital doors were violently kicked open. A rival billionaire stepped in with a team of ruthless lawyers, shielding Danae behind his back and declaring war. The Mute Heiress: My Ruthless Husband's Prize
Modern I woke up in a hospital bed with the sting of antiseptic in my nose and my body feeling like lead. My world had been turned upside down by a crash, but the nightmare was only beginning.
Instead of a doctor, I found my Aunt Ursula and a man named Julian standing over me. They weren't there to comfort me; they were calculating my worth.
"Poor thing," Ursula cooed, pinning my wrist to the mattress.
Julian claimed he was my fiancé, even though I’d spent a year dodging his calls. I tried to scream, but my throat felt like it was filled with broken glass. They were using my silence to paint me as incompetent so they could seize my family’s trust fund. Just as Julian tried to force a ring on my finger, the door slammed open. Hilliard Blackburn, the city’s most ruthless billionaire, walked in and tossed a marriage certificate on the floor.
"I am her legal husband," he said. "Now, get out."
I was a piece of collateral, traded by my dying grandfather to pay off a debt. To Hilliard, I was just an asset in his portfolio. He didn't know that I was secretly "The Analyst," a hacker who moved millions on the dark web. He didn't know about the missing algorithm that could crash the market, or that my mentor had vanished in a lab fire.
The world saw a broken, mute heiress, but I was hiding a secret that could destroy us all. I was pregnant, and my stolen code was already being auctioned to the highest bidder. With Hilliard moving into my house to monitor me, I had to find the truth before my "husband" realized I was his greatest threat. Ninety Days To Break Your Heart
Modern I thought I was living the dream as the wife of a billionaire, until my husband came home at 2 A.M. reeking of expensive Scotch and "Midnight Rose"—the signature perfume of his ex-lover, Lucinda. While I spent my nights alone in the nursery with our sick twins, William was out in the city, making it clear to everyone that our marriage was nothing more than a cold, calculated business merger.
When I finally confronted him with the evidence of his infidelity, he didn’t offer an apology. He simply looked at me with disgust and told me I was a "liability" who should stay home and play the part of the perfect mother while he lived his real life with someone else.
The humiliation reached its peak at the hospital when his grandfather suffered a massive heart attack. William showed up with Lucinda on his arm, comforting her in front of the entire Sterling clan while his mother publicly mocked me for being a useless gold-digger. Even after William tried to force himself on me in a drunken rage the night before, he had the audacity to treat his mistress like the grieving wife while I was pushed into the shadows.
I felt something inside me finally snap. The man I loved had turned into a monster who saw me as an acquisition rather than a human being. I was ready to sign the divorce papers and disappear with nothing but my pride, just to escape the suffocating weight of his indifference.
But then, the dying patriarch called me to his bedside and handed me a sword: five percent of the company’s voting shares and a three-month ultimatum. I’m not running away anymore. I’ve decided to stay for ninety days, but not to save a dead marriage. I’m staying to become the one thing William Sterling never saw coming—his most dangerous nightmare. My Heart Turned To Stone For Him
Modern I was New York's "wild child" artist, sold by my father into a marriage with the powerful Camden Winters. It was a cold transaction-my freedom for a life-saving drug from my family's company.
But the drug wasn't for him. It was for Brianne, his fragile childhood sweetheart, the "unforgettable love" he swore to me on our wedding day didn't exist.
When we both ended up critically injured in the hospital, the doctors asked my husband who to save first. He didn't hesitate.
"Save Brianne."
He chose to let his own wife die. After all the lies and betrayals, I finally understood I was just a tool. My heart turned to stone.
So I divorced him and vanished. But he hunted me down, destroyed the new life I had built, and dragged me back, discovering I was pregnant with his child.
He thought he had me trapped forever. He was wrong. I made him a promise, and then I broke it, leaving him with nothing but the ashes of his obsession. From Surgeon's Hands to Avenging Fire
Modern The world knew me as Dr. Brenna Mann, the neurosurgeon with hands insured for millions. My husband, Davis, was a powerful lawyer, and our life was perfect-until he shattered it.
He protected his secret lover, Kiley, after she killed my mother in a hit-and-run. Then, to silence me, he had his family' s dogs maul my hand, ending my career forever.
He didn't stop there. He fabricated a video that drove my innocent sister to suicide, then held her fate over my head to force me to save his lover's mother.
He took everything-my mother, my hand, my career, and my sister. The man I had vowed to love was a monster wearing my husband's skin.
He thought he had broken me, leaving me kneeling in public humiliation. He was wrong. He had only created a monster of his own, one with a brilliant mind and a billionaire's backing, ready to burn his world to the ground. The Jilted Bride's Ruthless Comeback
Romance I flew to Las Vegas to surprise my boyfriend of seven years with a proposal, only to overhear him celebrating his new marriage to his intern, Cortney. He had won a poker game and gotten a free marriage certificate as a prize.
"What about Amelia?" his friend asked.
"Amelia's fine," he scoffed. "She's so devoted, she'd wait another seven years for me if I asked."
His words shattered me. I resigned from the company we built together, AG Designs, and left. But Cortney wasn't done. She framed me for leaking company secrets, a lie Gabe instantly believed.
He dragged me back to our home, his eyes filled with a rage I'd never seen. "You scheming bitch!" he roared, his hand closing around my throat. "You want to destroy everything I built?!"
He beat me with a steel-tipped whip until I was barely conscious, leaving me bleeding and broken. He thought he had crushed me, that I would crawl back.
But as I lay there, the pain forged my broken heart into something cold and hard. I escaped, not to run, but to prepare.
Now, with the help of a powerful ally, I'm back. And I will make Gabe Carrillo pay for every scar, every tear, and every betrayal. He took my love and my life's work; I'm coming back to take his entire empire. Best Friend Zone: A Brutal Awakening
Romance "Ava, I only see you as a friend." Ethan's quiet words in the noisy bar landed like a ton of bricks, shattering my decade-long crush into a million pieces.
I had just poured out years of hidden feelings, only to be met with those five simple words. It was a clear, brutal end to a love story I had directed, starred in, and watched all by myself.
He finally looked at me, his expression full of a pity I didn' t want. "You' re my best friend, Ava. I don' t want to lose that." That phrase, 'best friend' , felt like a curse, a box he put me in, safe from my affections. For years, I had held onto fleeting moments, replaying them like favorite movie scenes, only to realize they were just casual gestures from a friend. My entire devotion had unknowingly sabotaged any other chance at a relationship.
I was his sun, but he saw me as just another planet in a predictable orbit. The realization was liberating and devastating all at once.
Driven by a desperate need to numb the ache, I found myself in a dark bar, downing tequila shots. It was there, amidst the haze, that Liam Walker, my deceased best friend Lily' s younger brother, found me. He saw through my pain, calling Ethan an idiot for not seeing my brilliance, a compliment that pierced through my drunken despair. He saw me not just as a friend, but as someone brilliant.
His fierce kindness was too much, leading to a messy, desperate kiss that I instantly regretted upon waking. The guilt, tied to Lily' s memory, was a heavy weight. I believed I had crossed an irreversible line with the boy I'd practically watched grow up.
My panic reached a peak when Ethan called, only for Liam to answer and coldly declare, "She was a little busy crying her eyes out after you broke her heart. You' re a bit late with the concern." He hung up, leaving me with a terrifying but thrilling jolt of electricity. Before I could process it, I sent Liam away, convinced I was just like Ethan, careless with others' hearts. But watching Ethan with his new girlfriend, Sarah, and realizing he had let my unrequited love fester out of fear, shattered my remaining illusions.
Why did he never love me, even for a second? Why did he let me waste all those years?
The bitter truth solidified: he was a coward, too afraid of real loss to embrace something real. And in that moment, I resolved to reclaim my life, to shed the heavy coat of unrequited love, and for the first time, choose myself. The CEO's Twisted Deception
Modern The new car gleamed in the executive parking spot, a silver dagger twisting in my gut.
It was a gift from Chloe, my fiancée and CEO, to Liam, her new executive assistant.
My project budget, for the core technology I built, was slashed again, a cold financial slap in the face.
Then, in front of the entire company, Chloe announced my salary cut, while Liam smirked beside her, wearing a new designer watch that matched his car.
The humiliation was a physical blow, public and intentional.
I looked at Chloe, searching for the woman I loved, the partner I trusted, but found only a stranger.
I resigned on the spot, the words a liberating exhale after ten years of pouring my life into Apex Innovations.
The next day, Chloe kissed Liam right in front of me, but the part of me that would have shattered was already gone.
I flinched from her touch when she tried to placate me, a physical rejection that finally broke her composure.
She fumed, threatening to abandon me, but I felt nothing.
Then, Liam, her new executive, chillingly outlined his plan to dismantle my life' s work for profit, and she agreed.
My lawyer informed me about the power of attorney, a relic of our past trust, that I might use to sell our joint home.
I heard him conspire to cannibalize my project, and witnessed her trust him blindly.
Later, she signed the house away, giving me full control of our assets, all because of Liam's fabricated emergency.
It was clear then: my loyalty hadn't been seen as strength, but as a weakness to exploit.
After she tried to blacklist me from the entire industry, I stood across from Chloe and Liam, who offered me a menial job in the company I co-founded, as an act of charity.
I realized this wasn't just a breakup; it was a war, and I was finally ready to fight back. The Code of Betrayal
Romance My peaceful night shattered when an alert flashed: my critical project's source code, leaked to a competitor, authorized with my credentials.
Before I could process the impossibility, my doorbell rang, revealing my boyfriend Matthew and best friend Molly, Molly' s face streaked with tears.
"Jennifer, how could you do this?" Matthew's voice, cold and accusatory, cut me deeper than any system alert as he scanned my apartment for "evidence."
He accused me of corporate espionage, and Molly sobbed about my "betrayal," a perfect picture of heartbroken friends.
Baffled and breathless, I could only state, "I didn't do it. Someone is setting me up."
But Matthew scoffed, dismissing my desperate plea, fully aware of my credentials' security.
The next day, he broke up with me in his office, cold and clinical, amidst the company crisis.
Later, I watched from my window as he kissed Molly passionately in the parking lot, her earlier tears replaced by laughter.
The crushing realization hit me: this was no accident; this was a coordinated attack, a complete betrayal by the two people I trusted most.
My grief lasted mere seconds before hardening into a cold, sharp fury.
They thought they' d broken me, but they were wrong.
I opened a new, encrypted file: "Investigation." The Billionaire's Secret Daughter
Romance I saw him on the magazine cover, Ethan Reed with Chloe Davis, the "perfect couple."
Seven years I' d told myself running was for the best, for his success.
But seeing the tech billionaire celebrated still felt like a punch.
Our past began with debt: my family' s help for his sick brother, twisted into forcing him to "choose" me over childhood friend Chloe.
Then the nightmare: my possessive love destroying his life, with a miserable child at its core.
Two pink lines confirmed I was pregnant with that child, forcing a terrifying decision.
The decision was brutal: I told him our relationship was a "game," then vanished.
Alone in London, I raised our daughter Lily, convinced I' d saved him.
Five years later, Lily' s severe nut allergy, identical to Ethan' s, innocently revealed all.
His raw whisper, "She's mine, Sarah. Lily is my daughter," shattered my facade.
Then, an anonymous text with my secret dream's details: Does he know why you ran away?
My blood ran cold. How could anyone know? Was my sacrifice a sinister lie?
The truth unveiled: Chloe wasn't just a rival.
She was a puppet master, feeding us both orchestrated nightmares.
She built a manipulative prison of fear.
Now, as her schemes explode in public, the true battle for our fragmented family begins. The Billionaire Heiress's Final Stand
Fantasy The rotors thrashed the air, a desperate sound in the collapsing city.
"Evie, damn it, wake up!" Ethan' s voice, tight with fury, cut through the fog in my head, his hands rough on my shoulders, shaking me towards the last transport helicopter.
He was urging me to wait for Krystal, his mistress, who was probably just fixing her makeup for her "survivor" selfie.
Then, a cold wave washed over me.
Not fog, but brutal clarity.
I had lived this exact moment before.
And died because of it.
In that past life, Ethan had deliberately left me behind.
He' d injected me, then convinced the extraction team I was delirious, a hysterical liability, a security risk.
They believed him, my "loving, concerned husband."
I was deserted in that war-torn hell, the infection taking hold in some bombed-out building, until there was nothing.
Later, a strange, detached knowing confirmed the worst: Ethan had returned to the States a hero, spinning a tale of my "noble sacrifice" pushing Krystal onto the plane instead of myself.
My already frail parents shattered, grief their final illness, gone within months.
Ethan inherited everything-the Reed fortune, the foundation, the philanthropic empire-marrying Krystal a year later in a lavish affair splashed across society pages.
The memory, sharp and brutal, burned away every last vestige of my past life's naivety.
How could I have been so utterly duped?
The raw injustice, the horrifying betrayal, the agonizing pain of my parents' fates-it all converged into a single, chilling resolve.
I was back, inexplicably given a second chance.
This time, there would be no sacrifice.
Only justice.
I pulled away from Ethan' s desperate grasp, my voice surprisingly steady and cold.
"No, Ethan."
I turned, walking straight towards the loading ramp.
"I'm getting on that helicopter. Now." The Fiancée Who Forgot Me
Romance The world tilted, and then went black for a second.
I came to with Jess screaming my name after a cyclist hit me, and I pulled her to safety.
At the hospital, with a mild concussion, I had a stupid idea: I' d pretend I had amnesia and ask Jess, "Who are you?"
Her eyes widened, but then a strange, unreadable expression flickered across her face.
With a voice suddenly too sweet, she leaned in and said, "Oh, Ethan, you don' t remember me? I' m Jessica, and Chloe is actually your fiancée. We were just out as friends."
My mind went blank, not from the concussion, but from genuine shock.
Chloe? Her best friend Chloe?
Jess was selling it hard, claiming I'd been "confused" even before the accident and that Chloe was my true love.
This wasn' t funny anymore; a cold feeling started in my stomach.
She insisted Chloe take me home, citing that familiarity would aid my "recovery."
As I lay in Chloe' s unfamiliar bed, the scent of vanilla filling the air, I realized Jess wasn't just playing along; she was hijacking my prank for her own twisted agenda.
Then, I overheard her on the phone: she called me "boring" and "clingy," bragging about using Chloe as a "break" so she could see her old flame, Mark.
The raw ache in my chest had nothing to do with the concussion; it was the sting of deliberate, cruel dismissal.
My fiancée was throwing me away, deliberately and publicly, to pursue someone else.
Why was Chloe, this quiet, uncomfortable stranger, going along with Jess' s insane scheme?
My anger hardened, but so did a new resolve: if Jess wanted a break, she' d get one, but it would be entirely on my terms.
I would expose her lies, one "amnesiac" step at a time. My Second Chance: The Heiress Who Chose Freedom
Modern The judge’s dull voice droned through the quiet courtroom, a familiar echo from a life I’d already painfully lived.
My parents, Brenda and Rob, sat on opposite sides, their strained silence a prelude to the crucial decision before us.
This was it, the pivotal moment my life would splinter once more.
My younger brother, Kevin, piped up without hesitation, "I choose Mom!"
A sickeningly smug grin spread across his face as he briefly met my eyes, a look that sent a chill down my spine.
It was the exact same pronouncement, the same twist of fate, that had occurred in my previous, tragic existence.
That first time, my own choice to cling to Mom had spiral-downed into years of agonizing hunger, her volatile, bitter moods, and eventually, my gruesome death at Kevin’s hand.
His petty jealousy hadn't just festered; it had exploded after Mom’s ill-fated marriage to a rich man.
He still carried this delusion of grandeur, convinced he held the blueprint to quick riches.
He truly believed his warped memory of a future that never materialized for him, dreaming of hitting the jackpot with Mom.
The irony was almost unbearable; he had no clue of the true misery his path would lead him to, nor the cold, cruel betrayal that ended my first life.
The unfairness burned, that he was here, just as oblivious, just as dangerous.
But unlike that former existence, I stood here now, armed with shattering foresight.
When the judge’s gaze finally landed on me, "Sarah, and you?", I made a sharp, deliberate break from the past.
I looked at my weak, easily-manipulated father, and with a quiet, unwavering voice, I sealed my new destiny: "I'll go with my father." You might like
The Jilted Heiress's Ruthless Billionaire Revenge
Gray Matter For five years, I abandoned my status as the heiress of the powerful Montgomery family to play the role of a poor, submissive housewife for Barrett.
Then, a bank notification popped up on my phone. Barrett had forged my digital signature and transferred our entire $50 million joint trust fund to a woman named Crista Reid.
When I called his boardroom to confront him, he humiliated me in front of a dozen Wall Street executives.
"Stop acting like a hysterical housewife. You're living in a penthouse I pay for, so don't embarrass yourself."
I broke into his encrypted laptop and uncovered the sickening truth. Crista was his mistress, and they had a five-year-old son together.
Barrett hadn't just stolen my money; he had spent years painting me as a helpless charity case he rescued, completely erasing the fact that my financial models built his entire company.
He thought I was just a discarded peasant he could manipulate, cheat on, and replace. He truly believed he held absolute power over my life.
He had no idea that I still possessed the highest security clearance of the Montgomery empire.
I pulled an old BlackBerry from a hidden wall compartment, plugged it in, and dialed my family's lawyer.
"Draft the prenup for Commodore Clayton IV," I ordered, choosing to marry Wall Street's most ruthless predator. "I'm done playing the peasant." The Jilted Wife's Spectacular Billionaire Comeback
Zhi Yao For ten years, I was the perfect, obedient wife to my wealthy husband, managing his severe OCD and hosting flawless high-society parties.
But on our tenth anniversary, when I brought him his special hangover soup, I caught him sleeping with my younger sister in our master bedroom.
Instead of panicking, he coldly handed me divorce papers with zero assets. He told me I was just a "placeholder" until my sister finished her degree and was ready to take my spot.
Desperate, I called my mother for help, only to find out she had known about their affair for years.
"You don't have Jana's drive or her looks. You clean house and you cook. That's not a wife, that's a domestic."
My own mother sneered at me, telling me to walk away quietly because our family needed his financial support.
They kicked me out of the penthouse with nothing but a suitcase, laughing that a woman who hadn't worked in a decade would end up begging on the streets.
I bled for this family for ten years, only to be thrown away like garbage when my sister wanted my life.
But they didn't know that while I was playing the boring housewife, I had secretly earned a Cordon Bleu diploma, a Cornell nutrition certification, and a Columbia master's degree.
Using a hidden photo to blackmail a property out of him, I packed my elite credentials and landed a $300,000-a-year job managing a billionaire's estate.
When my ex-husband drunkenly called days later demanding I come back to serve him, I calmly hit block. Too Late For Regret: My Dead Heart
Catlaina Sloggett Rain lashed against the twisted metal as Hallie lay pinned in the wreckage of her car, her chest crushed and fading fast.
The paramedic found her phone and desperately dialed her husband, Aidan.
"Your wife has been in a severe car crash! We're losing her!" the paramedic shouted over the storm.
A harsh, mocking laugh came through the speaker.
"Tell her this is a pathetic way to stop the divorce," Aidan sneered. "I do not have time for her crazy games."
The line went dead, and Hallie's heart flatlined.
Separated from her body, Hallie's ghost was forced to witness the horrific aftermath of her own death.
Her mother refused to claim her corpse because there was no insurance payout, telling the hospital to throw her in a ditch.
Pulled back to her penthouse, she found Aidan gently holding her sister, Cecile.
Cecile sobbed about Hallie's "fake crash" in Aidan's arms, but the moment he looked away, a wicked smirk of victory spread across her face.
Cecile was the predator, and Aidan was her willing protector.
He even ordered Hallie's brilliant, life's-work sketchbook to be thrown into an industrial shredder, giving all her corporate resources to fund Cecile's debut.
Hovering in the cold air, Hallie watched her three years of devotion turn to ash.
She was treated like garbage, a mere stepping stone for her sister's rise.
But just as her soul turned to ice, Aidan's face suddenly grew paranoid.
"Check her medical records," Aidan ordered his assistant coldly. "Find out who is helping her fake this injury."
Hallie's invisible spirit shivered with a dark, vengeful anticipation.
What would her arrogant husband do when his relentless digging finally uncovered her cold, dead body? The Billionaire's Ugly Wife
Ximena West "I've warned you from the beginning. Don't marry him, but you won't listen." Darcy stood close to me and smiled with concern. "You're not a woman worthy of a man as handsome, rich, smart, and virile as Blaze."
My whole body trembled at her words. "Have you no shame?" I asked.
"Take a good look at yourself, Heather." She stared at me in the mirror. "You can't even glance at your ugly face. Do you think Blaze can endure a lifetime of gazing at that scar?"
Heather Bailey got a surprise from her husband: a divorce agreement. After a year of marriage and facing ups and downs, she couldn't believe Blaze intended to divorce her. She was devastated when she saw him gazing lovingly at another woman.
After signing the divorce papers, shockwaves caught her up. Her flower shop was burned to the ground. Her father's company collapsed, and her parents blamed her.
She struggled to rebuild her life from the ground up and became more successful than ever. Having many customers from influential families, she started her revenge on Blaze. She won the very thing he wanted, but that was just the beginning. Wrong Room: Sleeping With My Fiancé's Uncle
Natala O'neal To revenge herself on her unfaithful fiancé Kevin, Isidora hides her striking beauty behind a plain disguise, and targets his uncle - the most formidable man Kevin fears.
After one reckless night, Isidora leaves cash as payment and says lightly, "You were good last night." She tries to leave quietly, but is pulled into his arms.
"You think you can walk away after this?" he says, his tone low and possessive.
Cedrick is a feared, untouchable titan on Wall Street - elegant, aloof, and completely uninterested in women. Not even the most beautiful socialites in the city can catch his eye. When gossip spreads that he was seen pressing a woman against a wall and kissing her fiercely, no one believes it.
When the rumors name Isidora, the crowd scoffs. He rejects even the most beautiful women, so why would he notice a plain girl like her?
All doubt disappears when they see the dignified Cedrick drop to one knee to help Isidora with her shoe, pleading softly for just one kiss.
When Kevin finally sees Isidora's true beauty and begs for forgiveness. But Cedrick kicks him out at once, slams a marriage certificate on the table, and says sharply.
"Call her Aunt." Discarded By Him, Claimed By The Zillionaire
TESS WHITE I was Landon Mercer's secret girlfriend and loyal assistant for four years. I thought my absolute devotion would eventually win his heart.
But he casually announced his engagement to a wealthy heiress, reminding me I was just a convenient nobody from an orphanage.
When I got trapped in a horrific car crash and begged him to call an ambulance, he just hung up on me, annoyed that my bleeding was ruining his romantic getaway.
He even blackmailed me with my orphanage's land lease, forcing me to attend his engagement party as a prop.
At the party, his elite family and friends brutally humiliated me.
They deliberately crushed my broken arm, poured red wine over my head, and kicked me into a freezing pond.
When Landon finally pulled me out, he didn't care that I was suffocating and turning blue.
"Are you out of your mind? You come out here and cause a scene during my engagement party?"
He threw a stack of cash at my shivering body, furious that I had embarrassed him in front of his wealthy guests.
Looking at the hundred-dollar bills floating in the muddy water, my four years of foolish love completely died.
To him, I wasn't even human; I was just a cheap toy he could abuse and pass around.
I didn't cry, and I didn't beg.
I dragged my soaked, battered body into a car and headed straight to the penthouse of his biggest billionaire rival.
It was time to burn Landon Mercer's world to the ground. Marrying My Ex's Powerful Billionaire Uncle
Yuan Xiluo On my wedding day, my fiancé Connor received an urgent phone call.
He told me a D-list actress had broken her leg on set, then abandoned me right at the altar.
In my past life, I cried until my throat bled, begging him not to leave.
But my tears only brought endless humiliation. My mother and adopted sister mocked me, framed me, and forged my signature to steal my multi-million dollar trust fund.
They kicked me out of the family estate without a single dime.
I ended up freezing to death in the minus-twenty-degree New York blizzard, listening to my mother's voicemail telling me to die in the street as long as I didn't bleed on her carpets.
Until my last breath, I couldn't understand why my own blood relatives hated me so much, yet treated an adopted daughter like a precious princess.
The only person who showed me any mercy—draping his wool coat over my frozen corpse and giving me a proper burial—was Connor's ruthless, untouchable uncle, Harding Snow.
Opening my eyes again, I was back in the bridal suite, right as Connor was rushing out the door.
This time, I didn't shed a single tear.
I let him run to his actress, then walked straight into the VIP room to face the most feared billionaire on Wall Street.
"The wedding proceeds as planned, but the groom's name changes to yours." The Jilted Wife Is A Secret Heiress
Zi Ya The Wellington beef sat cold on the mahogany table, a graying monument to three years of wasted devotion. It was my birthday and our anniversary, but my husband, Hamilton McKee, didn't even look at the gift I’d spent months knitting.
"Our marriage is a transaction," he said, his voice cutting like a scalpel. "Stop trying to make it a romance novel. I just need you to stop existing in my space for five minutes."
Then his phone buzzed with a call from Cuba, the ex-girlfriend he never truly left. His cold mask shattered into frantic concern, a look he had never once given me. "I'm coming," he whispered to her, sprinting for the door without a backward glance at the wife he was leaving behind.
I chased him into the freezing Boston night, only to be swarmed by predatory paparazzi. As Hamilton’s Maybach roared away, a heavy camera bag slammed into my shoulder. I slipped on the black ice, my skull hitting a granite gate pillar with a sickening crack.
Warm blood trickled down my neck, and as the world tilted, the fog in my brain finally cleared. I wasn't the penniless orphan from Southie he thought I was. Images of sterile operating rooms, complex sutures, and a billion-dollar inheritance flooded back—along with the memory of the car wreck three years ago where I was the one who pulled Hamilton from the flames, not Cuba.
How could I have spent three years begging for scraps of affection from a man who didn't even recognize his own savior? Why did I let a fraud steal my life while I played the role of a submissive shadow?
When I woke up in the hospital, the trembling girl was gone. I ripped the IV from my arm and stared at the man who had come back only to demand I stay out of his way. I didn't cry. I didn't beg. I simply handed him a piece of paper with one word written in the sharp, confident script of a woman who owned half the city: DIVORCE.
"Sign it, Hamilton," I said, my voice like ice. "Because by tomorrow, I’m not just leaving you—I’m taking the McKee empire with me." I Slapped My Fiancé-Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis
Jessica C. Dolan Being second best is practically in my DNA. My sister got the love, the attention, the spotlight. And now, even her damn fiancé.
Technically, Rhys Granger was my fiancé now-billionaire, devastatingly hot, and a walking Wall Street wet dream. My parents shoved me into the engagement after Catherine disappeared, and honestly? I didn't mind. I'd crushed on Rhys for years. This was my chance, right? My turn to be the chosen one?
Wrong.
One night, he slapped me. Over a mug. A stupid, chipped, ugly mug my sister gave him years ago. That's when it hit me-he didn't love me. He didn't even see me. I was just a warm-bodied placeholder for the woman he actually wanted. And apparently, I wasn't even worth as much as a glorified coffee cup.
So I slapped him right back, dumped his ass, and prepared for disaster-my parents losing their minds, Rhys throwing a billionaire tantrum, his terrifying family plotting my untimely demise.
Obviously, I needed alcohol. A lot of alcohol.
Enter him.
Tall, dangerous, unfairly hot. The kind of man who makes you want to sin just by existing. I'd met him only once before, and that night, he just happened to be at the same bar as my drunk, self-pitying self. So I did the only logical thing: I dragged him into a hotel room and ripped off his clothes.
It was reckless. It was stupid. It was completely ill-advised.
But it was also: Best. Sex. Of. My. Life.
And, as it turned out, the best decision I'd ever made.
Because my one-night stand isn't just some random guy. He's richer than Rhys, more powerful than my entire family, and definitely more dangerous than I should be playing with.
And now, he's not letting me go. 
/1/115048/coverorgin.jpg?v=44133fe8514819e56daf1ef1e1364ace&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/107479/coverorgin.jpg?v=46ffc05752d322ad26a3664c7fe060ff&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/104685/coverorgin.jpg?v=6991a5850d4652e15f10592d2830de70&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/102427/coverorgin.jpg?v=26a4e55baee6ce23ae85bb6f73fb5a12&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/102408/coverorgin.jpg?v=27d0ec662e7b6558836aebee1080f3f5&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/101957/coverorgin.jpg?v=4ff65a8f09cdf59fed0336ea64957493&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/86777/coverorgin.jpg?v=a2a86da38df7e404ec59e401f1e10cb2&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/84813/coverorgin.jpg?v=e657654127223edeaf1ffe8f2ecf5345&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/83919/coverorgin.jpg?v=8b3bd3df4afd4b4d984eef9dd84cf06d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/83238/coverorgin.jpg?v=375e6993c47c89fc6d7609cd53c45aec&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/83072/coverorgin.jpg?v=af53ada2f1ca57b9470cc9ceec0f0acc&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/81753/coverorgin.jpg?v=037c9f58fd87a98587276b1d20c18514&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/80887/coverorgin.jpg?v=2fd6180d15ee6e63e70a3c26253a86e0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/18742/coverorgin.jpg?v=343dafaa32ec9059c109f55cac0c34a1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/18677/coverorgin.jpg?v=a7b4be1e94086650831fd327f1eb1d71&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/113767/coverorgin.jpg?v=ef92ad258359ec0273435f960ced7576&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/114057/coverorgin.jpg?v=59ba4975471bd2fb60e3a2010fe30d03&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/114588/coverorgin.jpg?v=473c3ace1a34b5000cb050d4fc03cfd7&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/53776/coverorgin.jpg?v=2351df62731368a496bd970674d027b8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/110451/coverorgin.jpg?v=2820de6fa805c709de688f2d653ccf9e&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/112787/coverorgin.jpg?v=bdd683d05c41c30b98bdff89f4642393&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/113686/coverorgin.jpg?v=273570d81b402e2d98a6417be94096a0&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/113338/coverorgin.jpg?v=b85e131c25b892160c142889c5521201&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/49353/coverorgin.jpg?v=3f0747c7fc818f64f5e5e0b1cec8ff99&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/82937/coverorgin.jpg?v=2907194aa510c647b04f7cba8770d5c5&imageMogr2/format/webp)