YEMII WRIITES
3 Published Stories
YEMII WRIITES 's Books and Stories
Rise Of The Orphaned Student: Eddie Is An Aviatux!
Modern "Maybe you should go earn some real money, Eddie. After all, that's how the world operates."
Eddie stared at Eunice, his face a mix of pain and betrayal. "You've betrayed me, Eunice. All for what? For someone with more money?" His voice wavered. "I thought you had changed."
"You're right, maybe it only happens in books and movies, but believe me, my success will outshine any grass-to-grace tale ever written or depicted on screen."
Eddie, a hardworking orphan at Aveston University, is used to being overlooked and mocked, especially by his girlfriend Eunice's best friend, Tasha.
Despite his struggles, Eddie gives everything for Eunice, only to discover she's cheating on him with Nathan, a wealthy and influential student.
After a confrontation turns into a fight, Eddie is wrongfully arrested, his pleas ignored due to Nathan's powerful father.
But fate takes a turn when Eddie is saved by Damien Aviatux, the richest man in Aveston, who reveals himself as Eddie's long-lost father. Inheriting Damien's immense fortune, Eddie's world changes overnight.
Armed with wealth and power, Eddie sets out to take revenge on Nathan and his father, who once served his family.
As Eddie rises to the top, he navigates betrayal, tragedy, and love, ultimately finding happiness with who loves him for who he is, not his money.
"From San Roman, down to his son. They will go on their knees!"
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Ex-Wife, Please Have Some Self-Respect
Fritz Heaney I was driving through a rainstorm in upstate New York, pushing my old Volvo to the limit just to pick up a Dior gown for my wife, Catarina. She needed it for a gala tonight, where she planned to spend the evening standing next to the man she actually loved, Atticus Deleon.
The truck hit me head-on, crossing the center line and sending my car rolling down an embankment in a shriek of twisted metal and shattered glass. As the steering column crushed my chest, my brain didn't see a white light; it was pried open by a digital tsunami, flooding my mind with the "Quantum Archive"-billions of data points on surgery, high-frequency trading, and combat.
I woke up in the ICU with three broken ribs and a concussion, but the only thing waiting for me was a screaming voicemail from my wife's assistant.
"Jorden, where the hell are you? Catarina has been waiting for thirty minutes! You are so incompetent it's actually impressive."
There was no "Are you okay?" or "Are you alive?"-only fury over a ruined dress and a missing tie. While I was being resuscitated, my wife was on Instagram, singing "Endless Love" with Atticus and laughing at my "tantrum." She even called the family lawyer to freeze my credit cards, wanting to make sure I couldn't even buy a coffee without her permission.
For three years, I had been the "useful husband," the doormat who apologized whenever she stepped on my toes. But the accident had overwritten my desperation with cold, hard logic, and I realized I had almost died for a woman who viewed me as a liability with a negative return on investment.
When Catarina finally stormed into my hospital room to demand an apology for ruining her night, I didn't look at her with the usual puppy-dog eyes. I looked at her with ice in my veins and handed her a manila envelope I had drafted myself.
"Sign the divorce papers, Ms. Evans. I'm done being your canary."