Yixi Yuhuan
14 Published Stories
Yixi Yuhuan's Books and Stories
His Billions Can't Buy Her Forgiveness Now
Modern The scissors made a sickening crunch as I severed the long hair Marcus worshipped.
For three years, I had been his "silk anchor," the hidden woman who grounded him while he conquered New York.
But as the dark strands hit the porcelain sink, my phone lit up with a news alert that shattered my world.
*Thorne Enterprises CEO Marcus Thorne and Isabella Vance announce engagement.*
While I was waiting for his call, he was sliding a massive diamond onto another woman's finger.
At the gala that night, I was forced to watch them.
Izzy leaned across the table, her voice sweet enough to rot teeth.
"You look exhausted, Olivia. Especially now that you're... alone."
Marcus didn't defend me.
He didn't even look at me.
He just swirled his scotch and told me to focus on the merger data, dismissing me like an inconvenient employee rather than the woman he swore to protect.
He thought I was a pragmatist.
He thought I would stay in the shadows, accepting the scraps of his affection while he married for power.
He was wrong.
I went home and packed my life into a single suitcase.
I took the river rock he had carved for me—the one he called his anchor—and left it on the empty easel with a note in black marker.
*You were my rock. Now you’re just a stone.*
By the time he realized his mistake and came pounding on my door, I was already gone, flying toward a new life in Montana where he couldn't reach me. Erasing Him, Saving Me
Romance My fiancé, Liam, the tech visionary, claimed amnesia after a car crash, conveniently forgetting only me.
Then came the news: he was engaged to his childhood friend, Chloe, who supposedly needed brain surgery and a dream wedding before going under the knife.
My brother, Ethan, found the texts: Liam and Chloe meticulously planning my heartbreak, the amnesia a cruel farce, the surgery a cynical ploy for sympathy.
It was a calculated betrayal, a physical blow that shattered the future I' d so carefully designed, leaving me with a debt-ridden family and a forced marriage to a reclusive billionaire.
But I refused to be his victim; I found an old book on self-hypnosis, a hidden skill from college, and made a choice to erase him completely. From Tool To Treasure: My New Life
Modern For nine years, I was Kane Hill' s secret. I was his emotional punching bag, the convenient stand-in for my twin sister, Harper-the woman he truly loved. I endured his cruelty, convincing myself his control was a twisted form of love.
Then, just before he announced their engagement, Harper sent me a recording. It was Kane, his voice smooth and dismissive.
"Eden? She's useful," he told Harper. "An emotional pressure valve. I need to vent on someone so I can be the perfect man for you."
The cold truth shattered me. I wasn't a person, not even a substitute. I was a tool. That night, he polished Harper's engagement ring right in front of me before ending our nine-year "game" with a single, bored phone call.
He never knew that I was the girl who had saved him at a summer camp all those years ago, not Harper. He'd called my attempts to tell him the truth "pathetic."
So I packed a single bag and vanished into the night, leaving his gilded cage for a quiet farm in Vermont. But just as I started to heal, he found me, clutching the proof of my story in his hand, begging for a second chance I had no intention of giving. The Fallen Star: A Wife's Betrayal
Romance The auction hall was a tomb, suffocating me with the hum of self-important whispers. My mother' s guitar, the last tangible piece of her, gleamed mockingly under a harsh spotlight.
Then I saw them: Dylan, my wife' s childhood friend, his arm possessively around Maya, my wife. They smirked. Moments later, the auctioneer announced the bidding for the guitar, and my wife' s friend, Dylan, a man I despised, countered my desperate bid with escalating relish.
I emptied my shattered bank account, pouring every last cent into reclaiming a piece of my soul, only to have the win feel hollow. That night, Maya dismissed it as "just an old guitar" while scrolling through her phone, a tight, cold smile on her face. The next day, the public backlash against Dylan was brutal, twisted by media fanfare, leading him to attempt suicide. Maya relayed this with chilling detachment, a calculating glint in her perfect, elegant eyes, confirming my suspicions.
A week later, on the anniversary of my mother' s death, Maya announced a surprise: a private exhibition to "honor" her. A knot of dread twisted in my stomach, confirming my fears.
The gallery walls were lined with massive, horrifying photographs from my mother' s fatal car accident-mangled metal, shattered glass, a single bloodstained shoe. The exhibition title, "The Fallen Star," was a cruel mockery. Maya watched me, a faint, triumphant smile playing on her lips, expecting me to break. My mother' s sacrifice, her dignity, laid bare for public consumption.
"One million," I stated, cutting through their murmurs, my voice clear and steady, not for a single photo, but for each. Maya' s smile vanished. Her composure shattered. It was then, amidst the gasps and sick excitement, surrounded by vultures, that I realized I was trapped in her twisted game, my pain her performance, her cruelty boundless. Why? Why would my own wife do this to me? Why inflict such calculated, public agony on the anniversary of my mother's death?
As Maya, flanked by Dylan, announced the auction would proceed for the entire collection, promising a "personal story from me about the deceased" with every bid, the horrifying truth dawned: this wasn't just a spectacle; it was a torture session, and my mother' s memory was the weapon. She cold-heartedly revealed freezing my accounts, leaving me with nothing – turning my final act of defiance into a public display of financial ruin.
But as I knelt among the shattered fragments of my mother' s jade pendant-a sacred relic Maya had maliciously thrown to the floor-a profound shift occurred. The pain, the humiliation, the utter desecration of my mother' s memory, ignited a cold, hard resolve within me. I had nothing left to lose. I made a call, a desperate gamble on a forgotten connection, a titan of industry whose private number I' d clung to for years. It was time to fight back. The Wife He Destroyed
Billionaires I remember the fall.
The sharp, brutal shove from my husband, David.
The sickening crack as my head hit the marble staircase.
The last thing I saw was his face, twisted not with remorse, but with a grief-fueled rage.
His father' s last, wheezing words echoed in my ears: "She did this... Sarah... with her rabbit food..."
They blamed me for their self-inflicted misery.
For years, I, a dietitian, poured my soul into saving my tech mogul father-in-law, Richard Sterling, from himself.
He was a man of excess, his wife enabling every destructive craving, and my husband, David, worshipping his father's stubbornness as strength.
I crafted healthy meals, managed his medications, and pleaded with him to care for his own body.
My reward? His constant resentment, my mother-in-law's accusations of starvation, and David's growing impatience with the "unpleasantness" I caused.
I fought for his health, for our family.
I got a broken neck for my efforts.
They chose his dying delusion over our life together, over my life.
The darkness that swallowed me was absolute, an unjust end to a life spent trying to do the right thing.
Then, I felt the sunlight on my face.
It was warm, a gentle caress.
I opened my eyes to the familiar silk sheets of my own bed, the digital clock glowing 8:15 AM, October 12th.
The day it all began, the day Richard was diagnosed with severe type 2 diabetes.
I had been given a second chance.
Not a chance to save him, but a chance to save myself.
This time, I would do nothing.
I would let him eat his cake. The Forgotten Past, The Found Self
Romance The sterile smell of antiseptic was the first thing I registered, a dull ache throbbing in my head.
I was in a hospital bed, my mind a complete blank.
"You're finally awake," a woman with a tired, angry face snapped.
"Do you know how much trouble you've caused? Trying to kill yourself over a man. Olivia, you are a disgrace to the Hayes family."
More names were thrown at me by a man equally displeased: Liam, Scarlett, Olivia Reynolds-my name.
They painted a picture of a pathetic woman, obsessed with her adopted sister Scarlett's fiancé, Liam Sterling.
According to them, I had forced Liam into marriage and was now attempting suicide because he wouldn't love me back.
My adoptive parents and husband spoke about me as if I wasn' t there, their words cold, cruel, and utterly foreign.
Then came the demand: "Scarlett needs a blood transfusion. You have the same rare type. You're going to the operating room now to donate blood to your sister."
It wasn't a request. It was an order.
I was dragged to the donation room, where Liam-the object of my supposed obsession-followed.
"Make sure you take enough," he told the nurse, his eyes burning with contempt.
"Don't think this changes anything, Olivia. After this, you'll sign the divorce papers."
He even threw a million-dollar check on the bed, a brutal payment for my blood.
The old Olivia, who they claimed would have shattered, was gone.
The memories, the pain, the love-it felt like a stranger's story.
Amnesia had wiped the slate clean, leaving an eerie calm.
Lying there, listening to nurses whisper about my pathetic desperation, I realized something profound.
The woman they were talking about wasn't me.
The past wasn't mine.
And my future?
It was a blank canvas, finally mine to paint.
I took out my phone, found a lawyer's number, and dialed.
"I want to file for divorce," I said, my voice steady.
"And I want to sever all legal ties with my adoptive parents." When Love Turned to Ash
Romance I stared at the divorce papers, a symbol of freedom after years trapped in Mark Davis's gilded cage, where my art and my soul withered.
But just as I dared to breathe, Mark' s self-serving facade shattered completely.
His icy disregard for my well-being climaxed when, after a public humiliation at a gala engineered by his mistress, I collapsed at home, suffering a miscarriagewhile he watched, more concerned with his wounded pride and her presence.
And then, in the sterile hospital hallway, he twisted the knife deeper, telling her – and anyone who would listen – that I had faked my entire pregnancy for attention.
There was no turning back; I would never again be the woman who stood silently in his shadow. I walked away, not just from him, but towards reclaiming the artist I was always meant to be. My Heiress Life, My System
Billionaires Chapter 1 of my life was a fairy tale: Jocelyn Todd, orphan no more, adopted by the wealthy Scott family and about to marry a charming scion. My engagement party was a lavish spectacle, a testament to the love and affection I' d finally found. Standing beside my "protective" older brother, Andrew, watching my fiancé Ethan across the lawn, I finally felt loved, complete. But then, as I took my first step towards my future, my world fractured.
Bright, glowing text flooded my vision, overlaying the perfect scene: "LOL, she' s actually crying. A few worthless stock certificates and she' s totally fooled. So naive." My family' s affectionate smiles transformed into chilling masks as I read on, discovering their monstrous plan. The year of love was a performance, and I was merely a prop to boost their "Likeability Score." Once official, they'd frame me for a corporate crime, strip me of everything, and dispose of me, all to benefit Gabby, their real "daughter."
The warmth in my chest turned to ice. They weren't just betraying me; they were orchestrating my destruction. My "parents," "brother," and fiancé-all in on it. They saw me as a disposable pawn, intended for a tragic, convenient "accident." The thought of facing this chilling reality, alone and betrayed, was paralyzing.
But then, a defiant spark ignited. My tears weren't of gratitude anymore, but of cold, hard resolve. I still clutched the portfolio of "worthless" stock, and a new comment flashed: "The certificates are fakes!..." It was all a lie. I took a deep breath, the trembling in my voice purely intentional. "Before we make it official," I smiled sweetly, holding up the portfolio, "could we have the family lawyer notarize this transfer right now?" The panic on their faces, the sudden plummet of their "score," confirmed everything. My supposed doom was their control. This wasn't merely survival; it was war. Her Escape, His Obsession
Romance After dying a terrible death, I was miraculously reborn into the first year of my marriage to Ethan.
This time, I vowed to atone for my past betrayal and cherish the man I had once inadvertently destroyed.
However, the Ethan I returned to was a cold stranger, his every public gesture reserved for his new companion, Bella Vance.
Then came the chilling call: Bella needed a kidney, and my own frail mother was the only match, a desperate demand he twisted into a threat against my family's livelihood.
My pleas to spare her were met with icy contempt, leaving me isolated while she was forced into surgery.
He openly paraded his devotion to Bella, publicly humiliated me, and subjected me to unimaginable physical torture, including a brutal "stress test" and frostbite, forcing me to confess to Bella's fabricated accusations.
Each act of cruelty, each dismissive gaze, twisted the knife deeper, making me question why the man who once died for me was now so intent on destroying me.
Broken but resolute, I plotted my escape, faking my own death to finally, irrevocably, be free of his suffocating control. My Husband's Other Woman
Modern The fluorescent hum of the ER was my world, a demanding but predictable rhythm.
I was a dedicated doctor, a loving wife to Julian, a university professor, and a proud mother to Lily.
I even funded a scholarship for bright students from my hometown, like Chloe.
Then, a pager call shattered that peace.
It led me to cubicle three, where my husband, Julian, was intimately comforting a sobbing young woman: Chloe, the student I' d proudly sponsored.
Anonymous whispers from nurses confirmed my worst fear: an affair.
His frantic lies, her chilling taunts about my 'unfeminine' career, and later, the explicit photos and a voice memo of him mocking me and praising her, all twisted the knife.
But the real horror began when this student, Chloe, started bullying my six-year-old daughter, Lily, at preschool, spreading vicious rumors that caused physical and emotional harm.
My blood ran cold with a rage so pure it froze my veins.
How could the man I built a life with, and the girl I selflessly helped, conspire in such a cruel, public dismantling of my family, systematically using my child as a weapon?
The humiliation was suffocating, the injustice unbearable.
When Lily, through tears, told Julian she didn't want him as her Daddy anymore, something snapped.
Right there, amongst the whispers and lies, a new resolve solidified within me.
I was divorcing him, and I had the evidence to ensure he wouldn't fight it. Reborn in the City of Light
Billionaires Ethan Prescott woke from a car crash with amnesia, a powerful billionaire adrift in a sea of forgotten memories, clinging to the only person who claimed to know him: Cassandra, his supposed secret love who whispered tales of escaping his 'controlling' fiancée, Alexandra.
Just as Ethan questioned Cassandra's flimsy narrative and felt the warmth of forgotten affection for Alex, a devastating video surfaced, brutally exposing the truth: his passionate affair with Cassandra wasn't a post-accident manipulation, but a deep betrayal that happened before his injury, even on his actual anniversary with Alex.
Alex, heartbroken and disgusted by his shocking duplicity and narcissistic desire to "have it all," swiftly invoked the "Paris Clause," a hidden agreement that instantly stripped Ethan of 75% of his company shares, froze his trust fund for ten years, and permanently banned him from Paris and her life.
Plunged into a self-destructive spiral fueled by alcohol and regret, Ethan, after cruelly casting Cassandra aside, then faced a menacing blackmailer revealing an even darker, decade-old secret: an accidental death he'd caused, meticulously covered up by his powerful family.
How could one man be so blind, so selfish, and so utterly reckless, systematically dismantling every pillar of his privileged life for fleeting, illicit thrills, now trapped in a deepening quagmire of endless consequences?
As Alex found solace and new affection in the romantic, liberating streets of Paris, a city now forever out of Ethan' s reach, he was left consumed by the creeping recognition that he was paying the ever-rising, chilling price of his colossal mistakes. Reborn in Havenwood: A Preserver's Revenge
Fantasy The scent of woodsmoke and damp earth was the first sensation I knew.
Then, memory, sharp and cruel, flooded back: Sadie' s smile, Beau' s laugh, and my wagon, piled with preserves, tipping violently.
I sat bolt upright in my Havenwood bed, not the ravine, bathed in spring sunlight.
My nightmare first life was over; I was reborn.
My childhood friend, Sadie, had always eyed my jam-making skill with dark envy.
I simply created art from local flora using family recipes.
Sadie desperately coveted the Harvest Festival Championship, town admiration, and shallow Beau Sterling.
I innocently revealed the legend that the champion marries Beau, which Sadie ruthlessly exploited.
Sadie, manipulative and ambitious, conspired with Beau to sabotage my wagon, staging an "accident."
They left me for dead, shattering my dreams and existence for hollow prestige and a fleeting title.
The betrayal, from my best friend and the admired man, was a venomous sting, worse than any physical pain.
How could they be so cruel, so consumed by ambition, just to destroy my life?
Now, breathing crisp Vermont air, I was alive and remembered everything.
My former kindness was gone, replaced by cunning forged in betrayal's fire.
This time, I would protect myself and Havenwood from such insidious people.
My first move was clear: Sadie. The Alzheimer's Lie
Modern Ellie Miller, a woman in her sixties withered by diabetes and heartache, lay dying in her bed. For forty years, she'd sacrificed everything for her husband, Richard, only to become his "punching bag" in his supposed decline.
The last words she heard were Richard's voice, clear and chillingly lucid, telling his mistress Brenda, "Once Ellie' s gone, we can finally get married." His "Alzheimer's" was a monstrous charade, a performance perfected just for her.
The ultimate betrayal, after years of emotional and physical abuse under the guise of an illness, sent a final, searing pain through her heart. It was the crushing end to a life stolen by deceit.
But then, a jolt. She woke up, breathing, three years younger, her body lighter, in her own bed. Calendar: June 15th, the precise day Brenda first moved in, the day Richard's manipulative "condition" began. The horror of reliving those miserable years surged, but with it came a cold, furious resolve.
This time, she wasn't the dying, submissive wife. Armed with every memory of their lies and her suffering, Ellie vowed to reclaim her life. "We'll see about your future, Richard," she whispered. The game was on, and this time, Ellie was playing to win. You might like
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." Marrying Her Was Easy, Losing Her Was Hell
Michael Tretter "Stella once savored Marc's devotion, yet his covert cruelty cut deep. She torched their wedding portrait at his feet while he sent flirty messages to his mistress.
With her chest tight and eyes blazing, Stella delivered a sharp slap.
Then she deleted her identity, signed onto a classified research mission, vanished without a trace, and left him a hidden bombshell.
On launch day she vanished; that same dawn Marc's empire crumbled. All he unearthed was her death certificate, and he shattered.
When they met again, a gala spotlighted Stella beside a tycoon. Marc begged. With a smirk, she said, ""Out of your league, darling." 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!" The Queen Returns: Pampered By Her Three Powerhouse Brothers
Kleon Samorodnitsky After five years of playing the perfect daughter, Rylie was exposed as a stand-in. Her fiancé bolted, friends scattered, and her adoptive brothers shoved her out, telling her to grovel back to her real family. Done with humiliation, she swore to claw back what was hers. Shock followed: her birth family ruled the town's wealth. Overnight, she became their precious girl. The boardroom brother canceled meetings, the genius brother ditched his lab, the musician brother postponed a tour. As those who spurned her begged forgiveness, Admiral Brad Morgan calmly declared, "She's already taken." Traded Husbands, Tangled Hearts: Can Destiny Be Changed?
Mia Caldwell In their previous lives, Gracie married Theo. Outwardly, they were the perfect academic couple, but privately, she became nothing more than a stepping stone for his ambition, and met a tragic end.
Her younger sister Ellie wed Brayden, only to be abandoned for his true love, left alone and disgraced.
This time, both sisters were reborn. Ellie rushed to marry Theo, chasing the success Gracie once had-unaware she was repeating the same heartbreak.
Gracie instead entered a contract marriage with Brayden. But when danger struck, he defended her fiercely.
Could fate finally rewrite their tragic endings? Too Late, Mr. Billionaire: You Can't Afford Me Now
Theodora Birnir The whispers said that out of bitter jealousy, Hadley shoved Eric's beloved down the stairs, robbing the unborn child of life.
To avenge, Eric forced Hadley abroad and completely cut her off. Years later, she reemerged, and they felt like strangers.
When they met again, she was the nightclub's star, with men ready to pay fortunes just to glimpse her elusive performance.
Unable to contain himself, Eric blocked her path, asking, "Is this truly how you earn a living now? Why not come back to me?"
Hadley's lips curved faintly. "If you’re eager to see me, you’d better join the queue, darling." 
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