You Xi
12 Published Stories
You Xi's Books and Stories
Substitute Bride: Healing The Ruthless Heir
Romance Serena's stepmother forced her to take her cousin's place and marry the Beaumont family heir.
Everyone in New York knew Felix Beaumont was a disfigured, crippled madman after a horrific car crash.
To ensure her compliance, her ruthless family completely emptied her little brother's medical trust fund.
Her brother was lying in the ICU, and the hospital was ordered to stop his life-saving medication the very next day.
Her cousin mocked her as a piece of trash, and her uncle laughed in her face when she demanded her rightful inheritance.
When she arrived at the Beaumont estate, the old madam treated her like a defective product and ordered a humiliating purity check by armed guards.
Even Felix, her new husband, pulled a silver handgun on her on their wedding night, threatening to execute her for being a cheap replacement.
They all thought she was just a weak, desperate girl they could easily manipulate and crush to death.
They believed she had no choice but to suffer their abuse in silence to keep her brother alive.
But nobody knew Serena was actually a highly trained operative hiding a lethal past.
When Felix suddenly collapsed from a deadly military-grade neurotoxin, Serena didn't panic or cry.
She effortlessly pinned the untouchable billionaire to the floor, pulled out her silver needles, and saved his life.
Looking down at the shocked monster of New York, she offered a cold smirk.
"I can fix your dead legs, but you work for me now." Planning My Cheating Ex-Husband's Wedding
Modern On the night of our luxurious Las Vegas honeymoon, I thought I was the happiest bride alive.
Then his phone lit up with a text from a woman named Jessica.
"Last night was incredible, Alex. I'm so proud of you for finally getting rid of her."
I dug into his phone and discovered they had been together for months, and his mother had been helping them hide it. Less than 72 hours after our wedding, Alex staged a minor car crash and faked amnesia. Lying in the hospital bed with Jessica holding his hand, he looked right at me.
"I'm sorry... who are you? Do I know you?"
His family used this pathetic farce to frame me as the villain, driving me out of the hospital. By the time I got back to San Francisco, they had changed the locks and dumped my belongings on the street like garbage.
I had poured my heart into building a perfect life with him, only to realize I was just a pawn in their cruel, collective joke. The betrayal and public humiliation were suffocating.
But I didn't give them the satisfaction of a hysterical scene. I gathered my evidence and filed for an annulment, legally erasing our marriage as if it never happened.
Then, I adopted a pseudonym and became the city's most powerful event planner.
When Alex was forced to hire me to plan his new wedding with Jessica, I smiled and took the contract. The Jilted Wife's Spectacular Billionaire Return
Romance Eleonora held the positive pregnancy test, trembling with fragile hope as she told her husband they were having a baby.
Instead of embracing her, Butler slapped the plastic stick away, his eyes cold and dead.
"You cheating whore," he spat, throwing a stack of papers at her face.
He didn't listen to her desperate pleas. He ordered his bodyguards to drag her out of their penthouse and lock her in a private hospital room.
Trapped and terrified, Eleonora watched in horror as Butler's mistress walked in with a wicked smile.
The mistress shoved a medical consent form, signed with Butler's unmistakable handwriting, right in front of Eleonora's face.
"This isn't just an abortion," the mistress sneered. "It's a full hysterectomy. You'll never have a child again."
Eleonora's heart shattered into pieces. She couldn't understand how the man she loved could be so cruel, willing to kill their unborn baby and mutilate her body over a fabricated lie.
Driven by pure maternal terror, she smeared her blood on the forged papers, set the hospital room on fire, and let the world believe she had burned to ashes.
Five years later, Eleonora returned to New York with her young son.
She was no longer the weak, broken girl who begged for mercy.
Walking into the Holloway Group boardroom in a flawless Dior suit, she slammed a legal document onto Butler's desk.
She was still his legal wife, and she was here to dismantle his empire piece by piece. Moonpetal Whispers: My Second Chance Love
Werewolf Ryker Vance, future Alpha, was on quiet evening patrol when Kian Sterling's panicked mind-link sliced his calm. Annoyed, he headed to the Healer's den, thick with Kian's distress.
Kian stammered, "Elian Thorne. He fell. From the sacred cliff." Ryker dismissed it as a clumsy Omega accident, but as he reached the door, a weak, intimate thought slipped into his mind: *"Go home, Ryker."* It was Elian, a low-ranking Omega he barely knew, commanding him.
Confused, Ryker left. His wolf restless, his gaze fell on a neglected moonpetal, Elian's gift, now limp. He woke to an absolute silence, a profound void. The moonpetal was gone, just grey dust. At Elian's funeral, unbearable grief struck. Memories crashed: Elian's mate offering, his "I love you" dismissed, Ryker's ignored warnings of soul-withering. Elian was his *mate*, and Ryker had caused his death.
The word *Mate* branded his soul. Consumed by absolute regret, clutching Elian's ashes, Ryker screamed to the empty sky: "Give him back! Give me a chance. Please."
The world dissolved. He opened his eyes to a training ground, vibrant, years younger. Then he saw him. Across the field, practicing drills, was a younger, healthier Elian, alive. Ryker walked straight to him, took Elian's hand, and with every eye on them, declared, "He's your future Luna." The Unwanted Daughter's Secret Billionaire Identity
Modern For ten years, I lived as the "grateful orphan" in the Barnes manor, a shadow in their glittering world who endured every silent scoff and cold dismissal. I thought I had earned my place through silence and dedication, but I was nothing more than a charity project they were finally ready to discard.
At dinner, Richard slid a thick envelope across the marble table and told me my "biological parents" from a rural wasteland were coming to pick me up the next morning. It was a hundred-thousand-dollar severance package, a final payment to buy my disappearance and ensure their social circle remained untainted by my presence.
The exit turned into a nightmare when Mia tried to frame me for stealing a diamond necklace during a fake goodbye hug. Susan shrieked that I was a common thief, and Richard snatched the check back, sneering that I didn’t deserve a single cent of their mercy. They mocked my tattered sweaters and my medical textbooks, laughing as they predicted I would end up begging for scraps on the street.
I stood in the driveway with my single, scuffed suitcase, listening to their cruel laughter ring out from the porch. They wanted to see me crumble, to see the "charity case" break down in tears as they pushed me into the gutter, never realizing that the ten years I spent with them was merely a test of their character—one they had failed miserably.
The mockery stopped the moment a battered, bullet-riddled Rolls Royce Phantom roared onto the gravel. An impeccably dressed butler stepped out and bowed deeply, his voice booming across the lawn as he addressed me by the name they had never heard.
"Miss Pennington, the Board of Directors is waiting for your arrival to finalize the takeover."
The color drained from the Barnes' faces as I stepped into the car, leaving behind the girl they thought they knew. I wasn't going to a farm; I was going to the boardroom of the Pennington Group to sign the papers that would strip the Barnes family of everything they owned by sunset. My Death, His Ultimate Downfall
Modern For a decade, I was the perfect wife to tech mogul Carson Jarvis. I cleaned up every scandal and endured every affair, trapped by my father's "poison pill" inheritance clause that would leave me with nothing if I divorced him.
His latest mistress was pregnant, but that wasn't what finally broke me. It was when he shut down our mansion's power grid for their tryst-and turned off my grandmother's life support.
He murdered her.
At a charity auction days later, he paraded his new love while she announced her pregnancy. When I confronted her for stealing my money, Carson watched as his guards broke my arm, leaving me bleeding on the floor while he comforted her.
He thought I was his unbreakable wife, a possession with nowhere else to go. He expected me to clean up this mess, just like all the others.
He was wrong. As I watched him shield her during the chaos of an explosion I secretly arranged, I knew my old life was over.
Tonight, the world would learn of my death. And with it, Carson Jarvis would lose everything. Betrayed By Her Spiritual Facade
Romance Ethan Miller, a tech mogul, believed he had it all: a thriving empire and a fiancée, Seraphina Blackwood, his pure and minimalist sanctuary.
He' d poured millions into her "spiritual journey," building her a lavish, soundproof studio for meditation and yoga.
But one day, a system alert about unusual power consumption led him to an unimaginable scene.
The serene studio was a den of debauchery, filled with loud music, champagne, and Seraphina, who shrieked with laughter that he "totally bought it!"
She bragged about bleeding him dry for ruining her life, revealing her "pure and spiritual" facade was a calculated act of revenge to fund a reunion with her criminal ex-boyfriend.
His world shattered; love turned to a cold, hard rage.
He reeled from the betrayal, realizing he wasn' t her savior but her target, a naive fool he vowed would see his vengeance.
This time, his "lucky touch" wouldn't be for her benefit but for his own absolute reclamation. The Wife He Thought He Broke
Modern My parents' living room, usually a haven, felt like a courtroom as I delivered my verdict.
"The brownstone goes to Emily' s son, Leo."
The silence cracked with my mother' s gasp, Lily' s heartbroken whisper, and my father' s stunned roar.
They saw a monster, cold and unfeeling, sacrificing my own daughter' s future for a perceived wrong.
My husband, Mark, seized the moment, orchestrating a public spectacle that branded me an unfit mother, a betrayer of my own flesh and blood.
He paraded Emily, my supposed best friend, as the wronged party, while Lily, my sweet Lily, crumpled under the weight of my manufactured cruelty.
On live television, before a horrified nation, I was forced to declare my daughter worthless, to shatter her trust with words that tasted like ash in my throat.
I watched her collapse, her little body convulsing, knowing I had just broken her heart to save her life.
But what kind of mother drives her child to such despair? What unforgivable sin did I commit to warrant this public condemnation?
They think they' ve won, that they' ve stripped me of everything.
But they haven' t taken Lily.
Not yet.
And in the silent, strategic war I' m waging, their every move, every lie, every smug act of triumph, is only bringing them closer to their inevitable downfall. Nine Years Gone
Modern For nine years, I poured every ounce of my sweat and soul into building a future. As a carpenter, I paid for Chloe's law school, seeing her as the only family I had since taking her in as a teen. My dream, a new house-our home-was finally within reach.
But the moment I burst through the door, beaming after closing on the house, Chloe wasn' t smiling. She held out her hand, the silver ring I'd given her resting in her palm. "I can' t, Leo," she declared, her voice flat, "We need to end this."
My heart shattered. Nine years of sacrifice, reduced to a cold business transaction. "We were partners in survival," she stated, eyes cold, "My life is starting now. You' re not compatible." Then I saw it: a luxury Swiss watch for Julian, her wealthy new mentor. She didn't even know my shirt size; she saw my calluses, not me.
The bitter truth crashed down. My promise to her, that she would be my only family, had become a cage of my own making. How could the person I' d given everything to betray me so utterly? Nine years felt like a devastating lie.
As I sat in the desolate apartment, I remembered a crumpled business card, long ignored. Hollis Investigations. They' d been searching for my biological parents. It was time to find out. I picked up the phone. Reclaiming My Life
Romance The call seemed routine, a possible sprain in a quiet Vermont town where I, a paramedic, lived a seemingly quiet life, waiting for my FBI agent wife, Jessica, to return from her latest dangerous assignment.
But when I arrived, I saw her, not in Oregon, but here, pushing a little boy on a swing, laughing with a man I didn't recognize.
Then the boy called her "Mommy," and my world shattered.
I drove home numb, only to find her waiting, smiling, with an excuse about "leave" and a "layover."
When I confronted her, she offered pathetic lies, then slapped me hard across the face when I called out her lover.
She even tried to force me to sign papers for "our" child's health insurance, then brought my brother's cheating ex-wife to my house for a "reconciliation."
How could someone be so brazenly deceitful, creating a whole fake life while pretending to love me?
But the moment I handed her the divorce papers and the formal complaint I filed with the FBI, I knew it wasn't over. My Sister's Grave Mistake
Romance The last thing I saw was my sister Chloe' s cold, satisfied smile as the wrench came down, followed by an explosion of pain and darkness.
She whispered, "She knew too much.
She was always in the way."
Then, nothing.
I was dead, brutally murdered by my own sister because I stumbled upon her insane scheme to impersonate a missing socialite for money.
But then, I gasped, sitting bolt upright in my narrow bed.
Sunlight filtered through my grimy window.
I was alive.
It was June 14th, the day it all began, the day that, in another life, ended with my murder.
My heart hammered, my head throbbed.
I' d seen the blood, the callousness of my sister, and the boundless greed of my parents previously.
Last time, I had tried to reason with her, and it got me killed.
This time, things would be different.
A chilling calm settled deep inside me.
Chloe wanted to play a dangerous game?
Fine.
I wouldn' t stop her.
I would watch her step right into the fire she was so eager to light.
When her knock came, saccharine sweet, I took a steadying breath.
"Coming," I called out.
"Okay, Chloe," I said, a faint, cold smile touching my lips as I opened the door.
She had no idea. You might like
Flash Marriage To My Best Friend's Father
Madel Cerda I was once the heiress to the Solomon empire, but after it crumbled, I became the "charity case" ward of the wealthy Hyde family. For years, I lived in their shadows, clinging to the promise that Anson Hyde would always be my protector.
That promise shattered when Anson walked into the ballroom with Claudine Chapman on his arm. Claudine was the girl who had spent years making my life a living hell, and now Anson was announcing their engagement to the world.
The humiliation was instant. Guests sneered at my cheap dress, and a waiter intentionally sloshed champagne over me, knowing I was a nobody. Anson didn't even look my way; he was too busy whispering possessively to his new fiancée. I was a ghost in my own home, watching my protector celebrate with my tormentor.
The betrayal burned. I realized I wasn't a ward; I was a pawn Anson had kept on a shelf until he found a better trade. I had no money, no allies, and a legal trust fund that Anson controlled with a flick of his wrist.
Fleeing to the library, I stumbled into Dallas Koch-a titan of industry and my best friend's father. He was a wall of cold, absolute power that even the Hydes feared.
"Marry me," I blurted out, desperate to find a shield Anson couldn't climb.
Dallas didn't laugh. He pulled out a marriage agreement and a heavy fountain pen.
"Sign," he commanded, his voice a low rumble. "But if you walk out that door with me, you never go back."
I signed my name, trading my life for the only man dangerous enough to keep me safe. While I Was Bleeding Out, He Lit Lanterns For Her
Katie Oettgen As I lay on the floor of our manor, bleeding out from a ruptured ectopic pregnancy, I used my last ounce of strength to call my husband, Cole.
I begged him for help, my vision blurring.
But the only thing I heard was the clinking of champagne glasses and his mistress's giggle in the background.
"Stop the drama, June," Cole snapped, his voice cold. "We're about to go on stage. Don't call again."
He hung up, leaving me to die alone on the Persian rug while he accepted an award with another woman on his arm.
I woke up in the hospital days later. My baby was gone. They had removed my fallopian tube.
Cole finally arrived, smelling of expensive scotch and his mistress's perfume. He didn't hug me. He didn't cry.
Instead, he leaned over my hospital bed, pressing his knee into the mattress until my fresh stitches tore open and bled.
"You embarrassed me by calling an ambulance," he hissed. "My mistress, Alycia, says you're faking it. Clean yourself up."
He left me bleeding again to go announce a $10 million donation to Alycia's "groundbreaking" medical research.
I stared at the TV screen, numb. The research Alycia was taking credit for? It was mine. I wrote that patent years ago under a pseudonym.
They thought I was just a poor, orphan housewife who needed Cole's money to survive.
They had no idea I was actually a billionaire scientist hiding my identity.
I pulled the IV needle out of my arm. A drop of blood fell onto the divorce papers I had been hiding.
I didn't wipe it off. I signed my name right over it.
Then I walked into the bank, reactivated my dormant account with $128 million, and bought the penthouse directly overlooking Cole's house.
The mourning widow is dead. The avenger is born. Flash Marriage To The Alpha Colonel
Mo Yufei I was an intern nurse working exhausting shifts, yet my mother constantly forced me into blind dates with wealthy, arrogant men to secure our family's social standing.
During a terrifying hospital lockdown, an assassin disguised as a doctor held a scalpel to my throat. I was almost killed, but a high-ranking military colonel threw his own body down a flight of concrete stairs to shield me.
I survived with cuts and bruises, but when I went home, my mother didn't care about my near-death experience. She was only furious that I had rushed out on my blind date with Preston, a rich financial analyst.
She forced me to meet him to apologize. When Preston grabbed my arm, bruised me, and mocked my attack as a pathetic lie, my mother still took his side.
"Men get angry," she told me coldly. "It's your job not to provoke them. You will beg for his forgiveness, or you are no longer welcome in this house."
I had narrowly escaped an assassin, yet my own family was willing to feed me to a monster just for a fat paycheck and neighborhood gossip.
My heart went completely dead.
So, when the intimidating Colonel appeared, offering me maximum military protection through a sudden marriage, I didn't hesitate.
I walked back into my parents' house and calmly slapped a crisp marriage certificate onto the coffee table.
"I won't be apologizing to Preston. I got married today." One Night With My Billionaire Boss
Nathaniel Stone I woke up on silk sheets that smelled of expensive cedar and cold sandalwood, a world away from my cramped apartment in Brooklyn.
Beside me lay Ezra Gardner-my boss, the billionaire CEO of Gardner Holdings, and the man who could end my career with a snap of his fingers.
He didn't offer an apology for the night before; instead, he looked at me with terrifying clarity and proposed a cold, calculated business arrangement.
"Marriage. It stabilizes the board and solves the PR crisis before it begins."
He dressed me in archival Chanel and sent me home in his Maybach, but my life was already falling apart. My boyfriend, Irving, claimed he had passed out early, yet his location data placed him at my best friend's apartment until three in the morning. When I tried to run, I realized Ezra was already ten steps ahead, tracking my movements and uncovering the secret I'd spent twenty years hiding: my connection to the powerful Senator Grimes.
I was trapped between a CEO who treated me like a line item on a quarterly report and a boyfriend who had been using me while sleeping with my closest friend. I felt like a pawn in a game I didn't understand, wondering why a man like Ezra would walk up forty flights of stairs on a broken leg just to make sure I was safe.
"Showtime, Mrs. Gardner."
Standing on the red carpet in a gown that cost more than my life, I watched my cheating ex-boyfriend's face turn pale as Ezra claimed me in front of the world. I wasn't just an assistant anymore; I was a weapon, and it was time to burn their world down. Too Late, Mr. CEO: Watch Me Shine
Nieves Gómez Kayla stood outside the CEO suite, holding a custom suit for her fiancé, Brennon. They had spent seven years building a tech company from a freezing garage into a billion-dollar empire.
But through the cracked door, she heard the breathy laugh of Evelin, the newly hired director. Then came Brennon's low, careless voice.
"The wedding's a PR milestone for the IPO, nothing more."
Kayla's blood turned to ice.
"She's comfortable. Makes sense on paper," Brennon continued. "But you, Evelin. You understand ambition."
The betrayal hit her like a physical blow. She had written the core code that made him a billionaire. She had stayed up until 4 AM debugging while he slept on a futon. Now, he was mocking their relationship to his mistress and handing over her life's work to a woman who couldn't even read a data log.
Seven years of loyalty, reduced to a PR stunt. She didn't cry. Instead, a cold, violent clarity washed over her. Why should she let him keep the crown she forged?
Without a word, she pulled the three-carat diamond off her finger and dropped it into her bag. She walked out of the building, drafted her resignation, and accepted a VP position at his biggest Wall Street rival. It was time to show Brennon what happened when the real genius behind his empire decided to tear it down. Broken Ring, Billionaire Secrets: Watch Me Shine
Cornelia I sat on the edge of the examination table, the crinkle of the sanitary paper sounding like thunder in the sterile room. The doctor didn't even look at me as he confirmed the news: the pregnancy was over. My husband, Keyon, didn't answer my call. He just sent an automated text: "In a meeting."
When I returned to our cold mansion, I found his iPad glowing with a message from his "muse," Katina. He was throwing her a secret gala tonight-on our third wedding anniversary. He told her he couldn't wait to escape the "boring" and "draining" atmosphere I created at home.
Keyon didn't stumble in until 3 AM, smelling of Katina's perfume with a smear of red on his collar. When I handed him the divorce papers, he laughed in my face. He called me a "glorified housekeeper" with no skills and no future, promising I'd be back in three days begging for a subway ticket. He even bet his friends ten thousand dollars that I wouldn't survive a week without his name.
He had his assistant cancel my credit cards and block my gate access before I even reached the end of the driveway. He wanted me to starve. He wanted me to crawl. He sat in his office, mocking the "desperate" woman who pawned her three-million-dollar wedding ring for scrap metal just to pay for a meal.
I stood on the rainy curb, watching the man I had protected for three years treat my life like trash. He didn't know about the ultrasound I just threw in the bin. He didn't know that while he was calling me "dull," I was the one secretly writing the code that kept his billion-dollar empire from collapsing.
As I slid into a cheap Uber, I opened a hidden, encrypted app on my phone. The screen refreshed to a dashboard for an account Keyon didn't know existed. The balance was ten figures long-the accumulated wealth of "Solaris," the world's most elusive tech genius. Keyon thinks he just evicted a parasite, but he's about to find out he just declared war on the only person who can hit "delete" on his entire life. After Divorce: My Arrogant Ex Regrets Calling Me Trash
Sea Jet Aurora woke up to the sterile chill of her king-sized bed in Sterling Thorne's penthouse. Today was the day her husband would finally throw her out like garbage. Sterling walked in, tossed divorce papers at her, and demanded her signature, eager to announce his "eligible bachelor" status to the world.
In her past life, the sight of those papers had broken her, leaving her begging for a second chance. Sterling's sneering voice, calling her a "trailer park girl" undeserving of his name, had once cut deeper than any blade. He had always used her humble beginnings to keep her small, to make her grateful for the crumbs of his attention. She had lived a gilded cage, believing she was nothing without him, until her life flatlined in a hospital bed, watching him give a press conference about his "grief."
But this time, she felt no sting, no tears. Only a cold, clear understanding of the mediocre man who stood on a pedestal she had painstakingly built with her own genius.
Aurora signed the papers, her name a declaration of independence. She grabbed her old, phoenix-stickered laptop, ready to walk out. Sterling Thorne was about to find out exactly how expensive "free" could be. His Twisted Game, My Dangerous Love
Elroy Notman Vesper's marriage to Julian Sterling was a gilded cage. One morning, she woke naked beside Damon Sterling, Julian's terrifying brother, then found a text: Julian's mistress was pregnant. Her world shattered, but the real nightmare had just begun.
Julian's abuse escalated, gaslighting Vesper, funding his secret life. Damon, a germaphobic billionaire, became her unsettling anchor amidst his chaos.
As "Iris," Vesper exposed Julian's mistress, Serena Sharp, sparking brutal war: poisoned drinks, a broken leg, and the horrifying truth-Julian murdered her parents, trapping Vesper in marriage.
The man she married was a killer. Broken and betrayed, Vesper was caught between monstrous brothers, burning with injustice.
Refusing victimhood, Vesper reclaimed her identity. Fueled by vengeance, she allied with Damon, who vowed to burn his empire for her. Julian faced justice, but matriarch Eleanor's counterattack forced Vesper's choice as a hitman aimed for her. 
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