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fdfsgg's Books and Stories
Rising From The Ashes Of Betrayal
Modern I spent my whole life trying to fit into the "Kensington aesthetic," dyeing my hair blonde and playing dumb just to earn a crumb of my father's approval. But when the manor went up in flames, I realized I was never a daughter to them-I was just an inconvenience.
I lay pinned under a heavy oak beam, the smell of copper and burnt sugar filling my lungs. My father, Arthur, stood in the doorway with my brothers, looking like a phalanx of saviors, but their eyes weren't on me.
They rushed past my outstretched, bloody hand to save my sister, Karly, who was huddled in a corner without a scratch on her. My brother Archer scooped her up like spun glass, stepping over my crushed leg without a second glance. Just before they crossed the threshold, Karly looked back at me and smiled-a small, victorious, terrifying smile. My father didn't offer help; he just shouted that I was an arsonist and slammed the door, sentencing me to burn alive in my own bedroom.
As the crystal chandelier melted and crashed toward me, I didn't feel fear anymore. I felt a guttural, distilled hate for the family that left me to die because of a lie. I had spent my life begging for scraps at a table that was never meant for me, and I died realizing they never loved me at all.
"If I come back," I promised into the void, "I will burn you all down."
I gasped for air and woke up in my bed, the smell of lavender replacing the smoke. It was September 14th, five years before the fire, the exact week I had started ruining myself to please them. I looked in the mirror, scrubbed off the pathetic makeup mask, and realized the old, desperate Kala was dead. If I was going to burn, I'd make sure they were the ones who felt the heat first.
"Queen is back online," I whispered. The Unwanted Omega: Rejected for His Mistress
Werewolf I was the Alpha's Fated Mate, yet I lived in the mansion as an unpaid servant while he played house with his mistress.
For five years, Emilio refused to mark me, claiming my wolf was too weak to bear an heir.
But on the night of the Gala, everything shattered.
His mistress's son accused me of hitting him. Without asking for the truth, Emilio unleashed his Alpha power on me.
He slammed me into a buffet table to protect a lying child.
I lay in the broken glass, feeling the life inside me—the baby I hadn't told him about yet—slip away in a pool of blood.
Instead of helping me, Emilio stepped over my body to comfort his mistress.
"Clean this mess up," he barked at the guards, leaving me to die.
Heartbroken, I tricked him into signing divorce papers disguised as tax forms and prepared to leave.
But his mistress wasn't satisfied. She paid rogues with Emilio's own family silver to throw me off a cliff into the freezing river.
They thought the weak Omega would drown.
They were wrong.
The icy water didn't kill me; it awakened the Ancient White Wolf dormant in my blood.
Three years later, I returned not as a ghost, but as a Queen.
Emilio knelt in the snow, weeping and begging for another chance.
I looked down at him, my eyes glowing gold, and smiled cold.
"I reject you, Emilio Thomas." The Day My Love For Him Died
Modern On my birthday, my husband Jensen gave the Logan Star, a priceless family heirloom promised to me, to his widowed sister-in-law, Isabella.
It wasn't just a gift. It was a public declaration. Isabella was pregnant with his child-the heir I had failed to provide.
His mother, the family matriarch, then announced I was to be moved from our master suite to a smaller wing to give Isabella the space and comfort she "deserved."
Jensen just stood there, telling me to be "reasonable" for the sake of the family legacy. He had chosen his bloodline over our marriage, over me.
He had promised to always choose me, but in that moment, I realized I was just a placeholder, easily discarded for a more "fertile" option. The love I had for him died, replaced by a cold, quiet resolve.
So I smiled, agreed to everything, and walked away. That night, I boarded my private yacht. As it exploded in a fiery wreck at sea, with the world believing I was dead, my father received a single text from me: "It's time." The divorce was final, and the destruction of the Logan empire had just begun. Broken Vows, True Hearts
Romance When my vision finally returned, I realized the man I had married was actually my boyfriend's younger brother, Hurst Owen.
Meanwhile, Brady Owen, who had promised to end all ties with his ideal love, Betty Kirk, was actually next door with her all along.
That night, I overheard their conversation.
Hurst frowned. "Brady, Della lost her sight because of you. Do you think that's fair to her?"
Brady replied impatiently, "Just wait another month. Once Betty is taken care of, I'll be back."
"It's been ten years. Aren't you afraid I might genuinely fall in love with Della?"
"Your marriage is fake. Don't entertain thoughts you shouldn't have!"
I silently returned to bed, without revealing to anyone that my sight had returned.
On the twenty-ninth day, I took Hurst to get the marriage certificate.
Honestly, I still wanted to continue being Hurst's wife. His Cruelty, Her Comeback
Romance My husband, Bennet, was my hero.
Three years ago, his stalker, Gianna, crippled my drawing hand, ending my career as an architect. Bennet promised me justice, locking her away in a remote cabin to suffer for her crime.
On our fifth wedding anniversary, I went to the county office to update my records.
The clerk looked at me with pity. "Ma'am, our records show you were divorced three years ago. Your ex-husband, Bennet Crosby, remarried on the same day."
The name she read next shattered my world: Gianna Skinner.
The punishment was a lie.
Their prison was a lover's paradise.
For three years, he lived a double life, celebrating our anniversary with his other wife.
He brought her into our home as a maid, claiming it was for my "healing." He even shoved me to the ground in public to save her from a staged fall.
The final betrayal came when Gianna framed me, convincing Bennet I had hired men to assault her. He dragged me to a dark room, not even recognizing me through a mask. He believed I was a stranger who had hurt his real wife.
"Anyone who lays a hand on my wife," he snarled, "will feel a thousand times the pain."
He personally whipped me ninety-nine times. The man who swore to protect me became my torturer, all while believing he was defending the woman he truly loved.
He left me for dead, ordering his men to finish the job.
But I escaped.
Bleeding and broken, I fled the country with a new identity, my heart set on one thing: entering the Paris architecture competition and taking back the life he tried to destroy.
He thought he had clipped my wings, but he only taught me how to fly from the ashes. A Mother's Sword
Romance The soft beep of the heart monitor was the first sound I heard, cutting through the fog of impact, of screeching tires, and Michael' s small hand slipping from mine. I was in a hospital, a dull ache spreading through my entire body. Then the door opened, and Tiffany, the senator' s daughter, the one who was driving, stood there.
"Oh, you're awake," she said, devoid of concern, as if my son, Michael, was an inconvenience. "My father has taken care of everything. The official report will say it was a tragic accident caused by poor road conditions." She even offered to pay my hospital bills.
The world I knew, where right was right, crumbled. My son, my kind, innocent Michael, was just an "annoyance" to them. The police wouldn't help, the law wouldn't help. Despair was a suffocating blanket, threatening to pull me under.
They thought I was just a grieving, helpless widow to be bought off and intimidated. They thought my husband' s Medal of Honor, tucked away at home, was just a piece of metal. They thought his sacrifice meant nothing.
But as Tiffany walked out, a cold, hard purpose crystallized within me hotter than any rage. My tears stopped. I looked at my steady hands. The woman who had been rushed into that hospital was gone. I was checking out. Betrayed By The Fiance: The Unsinkable Heiress
Romance My first life ended in the icy, unforgiving grasp of the Hudson River.
The memory of the dark water choking me, burning my lungs, was as real as the silk sheets I lay on now.
Ethan' s voice, a blade to my soul, still pierced me: "You deserve it, Ava, for stealing Chloe' s life."
Noah, the kind cousin who, despite his weak heart, desperately tried to save me, struggled and disappeared beneath the waves alongside me.
Then, miraculously, I gasped awake in my opulent SoHo bedroom, sunlight warming my face, a stark contrast to the cold dread that now gripped me.
My phone buzzed with a reminder: "Lunch with Ethan, 1PM."
Panic surged – it was today.
The very day Chloe Jenkins, a deluded scholarship student, had convinced my fiancé, Ethan, that she was the real Miller heiress, leading him to betray me.
The brutal memories weren' t a dream; they were a chilling premonition, every detail of my impending kidnapping and murder replaying in vivid terror.
How could the man I was to marry so easily believe such an insane lie, so readily trade me for a perceived better option?
His betrayal had been a fresh wound even in my last moments, and now it was a ghost haunting my every breath.
Ava Miller, the Miller heiress, was alive, but the exact script of my agonizing death was already written, the cruel actors in place, their roles meticulously cast.
I remembered Chloe' s smug face at the desolate pier, just before she snatched my phone, relishing the thought of me begging for my life.
But this time, I wouldn' t repeat the past.
I wouldn't call Ethan.
My trembling fingers scrolled past his name, reaching instead for Jackson, my fiercely protective brother and the CEO of the Miller empire.
Then, a cryptic text to Noah Williams, the gentle soul who died trying to save me.
This time, I would rewrite the ending. My Stepsister's Dark Gift
Modern I was Olivia Miller, the quiet, studious pre-med student from a prominent family.
My stepsister, Izzy, was the dazzling socialite, everyone' s favorite, effortlessly getting what she wanted.
Then, the unexplained began. Dark bruises marred my skin, then alarming hickeys appeared on my neck, though I hadn' t been with anyone.
My family's judgment quickly fell, and Izzy, with sugary sweetness, presented me with an antique silver locket-a "family heirloom for protection."
New marks appeared the very next day.
The humiliation peaked at a prestigious university conference.
Mid-speech, I collapsed at the podium, bleeding inexplicably, as gasps rippled through the auditorium.
Doctors found no cause, yet whispers of a "wild lifestyle" and "secret abortion" turned me from star student into campus scandal.
My fiancé, Ethan, suggested our engagement be "transferred" to Izzy, citing my "embarrassing behavior." My appearance-obsessed parents believed every lie.
How could these things happen?
Why did Izzy always look so perfect, radiating health, while my body and reputation disintegrated under the weight of these bizarre, unexplainable marks?
The injustice and confusion were unbearable, trapping me.
But then, the world reset.
I was back at the podium, exact same moment, the same horrific pain beginning.
As my vision blurred, I saw Izzy' s face in the crowd: a sliver of dark satisfaction beneath her practiced concern.
This time, I wouldn't just collapse. I understood the curse. Izzy had just handed me the weapon to turn it back on her. My Money, His Mistress
Billionaires For five years, I lived as Sarah Miller, the unassuming wife of a rising tech executive.
I meticulously hid my true identity as Sarah Sterling, heiress to a vast fortune, believing my quiet support was building my husband Ethan's dreams.
But that carefully constructed facade shattered at a school fair.
Instead of Ethan, engrossed in a "critical product demo," I found him openly laughing with his colleague, Chloe, her son perched on his shoulders, a perfect family portrait.
The text "Saw you. Don't make a scene" burned my eyes as he publicly humiliated me, even tripping me.
Later, when our innocent daughter Lily approached him, he coldly asked, "Whose kid is this?"
The humiliation deepened when Chloe, smirking, implied Ethan was hers, and he prioritized her son over Lily.
I soon discovered his "hard-earned" success was funding Chloe's lavish lifestyle, not ours.
Days later, as Lily fought a severe asthma attack, Ethan, ignoring her labored breathing and hearing Chloe's laugh, dismissed my desperate plea for help as "dramatic."
My world, a carefully constructed illusion, crumbled, replaced by a cold, burning rage.
Years of "late nights" and "urgent work trips" weren' t ambition; they were a double life, built entirely on my blind trust and, ironically, my family' s secret funds.
This wasn't just an affair; it was an elaborate deception, a meticulously orchestrated project of my own foolishness.
The custom-made dollhouse I' d ordered for Lily' s birthday, now casually claimed by Ethan for Chloe's son, was the ultimate betrayal.
But the Sterling heiress, buried for five years, was about to resurface.
The quiet, unassuming Sarah Miller died that day.
Now, as Sarah Sterling, I would reclaim my power, dismantle my husband's fraudulent empire, and show him the true cost of his betrayal. From Servant to Sovereign
Modern Thanksgiving Day dawned, and like every year, I, Sarah Miller, had toiled alone since dawn, preparing a lavish feast for my ungrateful family.
As we finally sat down to eat, my mother, Eleanor, announced her estate plans: her house, her cabin, and all her savings went to my brothers, Mark and Ben, and their families, while I was simply assigned, openly, the "daughter's duty" of becoming her live-in caregiver.
My brothers chimed in, echoing how it "made sense" because I was "good at taking care of people" and didn't have a "demanding job," effectively erasing my sacrifices and our own family' s small life.
Years of quietly giving everything, from quitting my job to care for my father alone, to secretly funneling our meager savings to my brothers, culminated in this brazen dismissal of my worth, leaving me with a bitter, burning question: what exactly had my mother ever done for me, besides exploit and ignore me?
As their smug faces expected my silent submission, something inside me snapped, and with a guttural cry, I heaved, sending the entire Thanksgiving dinner-turkey, mashed potatoes, shattered china-crashing to the floor, marking the explosive end of my servitude and the beginning of my fight for freedom. 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." 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!" 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 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." The Ghost Wife's Billion Dollar Tech Comeback
Huo Wuer Today is October 14th, my birthday. I returned to New York after months away, dragging my suitcase through the biting wind, but the VIP pickup zone where my husband’s Maybach usually idled was empty.
When I finally let myself into our Upper East Side penthouse, I didn’t find a cake or a "welcome home" banner. Instead, I found my husband, Caden, kneeling on the floor, helping our five-year-old daughter wrap a massive gift for my half-sister, Adalynn.
Caden didn’t even look up when I walked in; he was too busy laughing with the girl who had already stolen my father’s legacy and was now moving in on my family. "Auntie Addie is a million times better than Mommy," my daughter Elara chirped, clutching a plush toy Caden had once forbidden me from buying for her. "Mommy is mean," she whispered loudly, while Caden just smirked, calling me a "drill sergeant" before whisking her off to Adalynn’s party without a second glance.
Later that night, I saw a video Adalynn posted online where my husband and child laughed while mocking my "sensitive" nature, treating me like an inconvenient ghost in my own home. I had spent five years researching nutrition for Elara’s health and managing every detail of Caden’s empire, only to be discarded the moment I wasn't in the room.
How could the man who set his safe combination to my birthday completely forget I even existed? The realization didn't break me; it turned me into ice.
I didn't scream or beg for an explanation. I simply walked into the study, pulled out the divorce papers I’d drafted months ago, and took a black marker to the terms. I crossed out the alimony, the mansion, and even the custody clause—if they wanted a life without me, I would give them exactly what they asked for.
I left my four-carat diamond ring on the console table and walked out into the rain with nothing but a heavily encrypted hard drive. The submissive Mrs. Holloway was gone, and "Ghost," the most lethal architect in the tech world, was finally back online to take back everything they thought I’d forgotten. Rising From Wreckage: Starfall's Epic Comeback
Huo Wuer Rain hammered against the asphalt as my sedan spun violently into the guardrail on the I-95. Blood trickled down my temple, stinging my eyes, while the rhythmic slap of the windshield wipers mocked my panic.
Trembling, I dialed my husband, Clive. His executive assistant answered instead, his voice professional and utterly cold.
"Mr. Wilson says to stop the theatrics. He said, and I quote, 'Hang up. Tell her I don’t have time for her emotional blackmail tonight.'"
The line went dead while I was still trapped in the wreckage. At the hospital, I watched the news footage of Clive wrapping his jacket around his "fragile" ex-girlfriend, Angelena, shielding her from the storm I was currently bleeding in. When I returned to our penthouse, I found a prenatal ultrasound in his suit pocket, dated the day he claimed to be on a business trip.
Instead of an apology, Clive met me with a sneer. He told me I was nothing but an "expensive decoration" his father bought to make him look stable. He froze my bank accounts and cut off my cards, waiting for the hunger to drive me back to his feet.
I stared at the man I had loved for four years, realizing he didn't just want a wife; he wanted a prop he could switch off. He thought he could starve me into submission while he played father to another woman's child.
But Clive forgot one thing. Before I was his trophy wife, I was Starfall—the legendary voice actress who vanished at the height of her fame.
"I'm not jealous, Clive. I'm done."
I grabbed my old microphone and walked out. I’m not just leaving him; I’m taking the lead role in the biggest saga in Hollywood—the one Angelena is desperate for. This time, the "decoration" is going to burn his world down. Destiny's Choice: Married The Man They Called Unlovable
Lila Rivers Sophie stepped in for her sister and married a man known for his disfigured looks and reckless past.
On their wedding day, his family turned their backs on him, and the town laughed behind their hands, certain the marriage would collapse.
But Sophie's career soared, and their love only deepened.
Later, during a high-profile event, the CEO of some conglomerate took off his mask, revealing Sophie's husband to be a global sensation.
***
Adrian had no interest in his arranged wife and had disguised himself in hopes she would bail.
But when Sophie tried to walk away, Adrian broke down and whispered, "Please, Sophie, don't go. One kiss, and I'll give you the world." 
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