ANASTASIA GRAVES
11 Published Stories
ANASTASIA GRAVES's Books and Stories
Secrets Of The Betrayed Wife's Revenge
Romance My wealthy husband Bentley sent me a cold text saying his newly divorced friend, Cassie, and her two kids were moving into our Long Island villa.
When I frantically reminded him that Cassie had deliberately pushed me down a flight of stairs a year ago, he called me insane and jealous.
He threatened to throw me out of my own home if I didn't welcome her. The moment Cassie arrived, she let her children destroy my prized possessions and played the tearful victim to perfection. Bentley immediately took her side, cradling her child and giving them the fatherly love he had strictly denied me for three years. He treated me like a toxic intruder in my own marriage. Behind his back, Cassie sneered at me, slashed my personal diary with a letter opener, and openly bragged that she was going to take over my entire life.
I was suffocating, completely isolated and gaslit by the man I loved. Why did he blindly protect a manipulative psychopath over his own wife?
But I refused to be the victim who gets driven away in tears.
I secretly planted hidden cameras around the house, cornered a smirking Cassie in my bedroom, and locked the door behind us with my phone recording.
"What are you doing in my bedroom, Cassie?" His Mark Of Shame, Her Awakening
Werewolf Ten years ago, I was banished from my pack, branded a whore and a traitor for allegedly drugging and stealing my sister's fated mate.
Now, I was summoned back because my father, the Alpha who disowned me, was dying from a poisoned attack.
Standing by his deathbed, a locked memory finally surfaced—I didn't drug anyone. My husband and I were both victims, poisoned with wolfsbane to force our mating.
But before my father could reveal who orchestrated the setup, his heart monitor flatlined.
My brother instantly shoved me to the ground, pointing a trembling finger at my face.
"You killed him. I will hunt you, I will break you, and I will make your life a living hell."
Even my husband, Kieran, the man I was forced to marry to save our unborn child, walked right past me in the hospital corridor.
He didn't spare me a single glance, choosing instead to gently comfort my mother while I sat bruised and shattered on the cold floor.
I didn't understand why my own family hated me so blindly, and I understood even less who had framed me a decade ago.
What terrified my father so much in his final moments that he couldn't even speak the culprit's name?
Watching my cold husband walk away with the family that abandoned me, the last shred of my naive hope died.
I wiped my tears and stood up. This time, I was going to tear this pack apart to find the truth. The Ruby Shackle: Bound To The Billionaire
Modern I’m a CIA operative known as "The Auditor," and for months, I’ve played the role of a pathetic, abused ward in Basil Dean’s mansion. My mission was simple: gather intel on a paranoid billionaire while pretending to be a girl who flinches at her own shadow and knows nothing of the world.
The balance shattered when Basil found a photo of me smiling at a local mechanic. He didn't just get angry; he dragged me into his soundproof vault, his leather-gloved thumb pressing into my carotid artery to feel the frantic, terrified thrum of my heart.
He tagged me with a ruby bracelet—a high-tech tracking device that reported my GPS and biometrics to his phone every second. His stepsister, Corine, smelled blood in the water, accusing me of theft while Basil watched my heart rate spike on his screen like a lab rat in a cage. I was trapped in a gilded nightmare, forced to scrub floors and endure his predatory stares while a fifty-thousand-dollar shackle recorded my every breath.
I couldn't tell if he was a grieving recluse or a shark playing with his food, but every time my signal dropped, he was there, looming in the shadows, waiting for me to slip up. I was drowning in a game where the rules changed every time I tried to fight back, and the agency was starting to think I’d turned.
To end the charade, I handed the bracelet back to him in front of the entire kitchen staff, a public rejection of his twisted ownership. Basil didn't blink; he took a heavy meat mallet and smashed the ruby to dust right in front of me before making a phone call that turned my mission into a death trap.
"Get the prenup ready," he hissed, his eyes burning with a terrifying, sane obsession.
"I'm marrying her." His Fatal Mistake, My Sweet Revenge
Modern Trapped 3,000 meters beneath the sea, the submersible I designed was my coffin. The air was turning to poison.
But my fiancé, Jeffery, gave our only long-term life support-a CO2 scrubber I invented-to his social media star mistress.
"You're strong, Elaina," he said. "You can figure something out."
When I tried to use the emergency comms, he broke my wrist and smashed the console.
He and his mistress sealed the hatch, leaving me to die alone in the crushing dark.
He chose his career over my life. He chose her over me. The man I was supposed to marry would rather I suffocate at the bottom of the ocean than face a failed mission.
But as the blackness closed in, I remembered a secret. A tiny, personal emergency pinger I' d built into my glove. With my last bit of strength, I tore the seam with my teeth and slammed my hand against my head. A faint click echoed in the silence. My revenge had just begun. The Fiancé's Cruel Deception
Modern I was kidnapped with my fiancé, Charlton Morris. In that dark, damp room, he was my hero, shielding me from our captors and whispering promises of safety.
After our rescue, he proposed in front of the world's cameras. But the fairytale was a lie. The kidnapping was a sham he orchestrated with my own father, a cruel plot to ruin my reputation.
I was just a pawn, a public pariah to make his family accept his true love, Giuliana. They humiliated me with a degrading video, had me committed to a mental asylum where I was nearly assaulted, and then discovered I was pregnant.
They forced me to abort the child I was secretly carrying-his child. They thought they had broken me, that I would disappear quietly with my shame after they had taken my dignity, my reputation, and my baby.
But on the day of their wedding, I sent them a gift: the preserved remains of the child they made me kill. Then, I burned my old life to the ground and bought a one-way ticket to London. They thought the story was over. They had no idea my revenge was just beginning. The Runaway Wife: Hiding The Don's Heir
Mafia The combination to my husband's private safe was the date of his mistress's birth.
Inside, arranged beside his gun and stacks of cash, I found a legal document that shattered my world.
Clause 4: Upon the birth of the heir, my architecture firm is absorbed into the Moretti Trust.
Clause 5: Primary guardianship is transferred to the father and his proxy, Kaleigh.
Kaleigh is my step-sister. She is also the woman currently warming my husband's bed.
When I confronted Jacob, the Don of the city, he didn't offer a shadow of shame.
He simply gripped my chin, his eyes cold as ice, and whispered, "There is no divorce in this life. You leave in a coffin."
My lawyer betrayed me. The police were on his payroll. I was trapped in a gilded cage, waiting to be discarded.
Then came the final blow—an intercepted audio recording.
"The moment the head crowns, she is done," Jacob's voice said on the tape. "If she fights, she dies on the table."
They didn't just want my baby. They wanted to erase me completely.
I realized I couldn't win in court, and I couldn't win in a street fight.
To escape a man who owned the city, I had to cease to exist.
I drove my car to a desolate ravine and doused the leather seats in gasoline.
I took off my wedding ring, placed it on the dashboard, and lit a match.
I wasn't going to kill my son.
I was going to burn the world down for him. His Wife, Her Child: A Twisted Truth
Modern The cold bit deep, followed by a throbbing pain. My eyes, impossibly heavy, finally opened to a sterile white room. My last memory? My own son, Alex, his face twisted in a rage I' d seen countless times, brought a vase down on my head. Again and again.
As consciousness faded, a horrific truth surfaced: Alex wasn't my son. He was hers. My best friend, Lisa Hayes, had swapped our babies at birth. My sweet, healthy Emily for her violent Alex, cursed with a genetic disorder. Lisa had doomed me to a lifetime of hell, raising her monster while she raised my perfect child.
I' d died, discarded on my living room floor, wondering why my life had been a constant struggle, why my child was so broken. I' d endured years of Alex' s violent outbursts, the judgmental stares, Lisa' s fake sympathy, and my mother-in-law' s relentless criticism. My marriage crumbled under the weight of a secret I never knew existed, and my love and patience were worn thin.
Then, a nurse' s voice. "The epidural should be wearing off soon. You did wonderfully." Epidural? My stomach was flat. I looked at the calendar: October 12th, 2008. The day I gave birth, 16 years ago. I was back.
A second chance. A chance to save my daughter, to protect my husband, to reclaim the life Lisa stole. This time, there would be no swap. This time, I would rewrite our fate. Dear Wife, Let's Divorce!
Romance The boardroom was silent, captivated by my Apex Tower presentation-the culmination of my career, projected onto the massive screen.
But instead of my schematics, a live feed of our meditation room flickered on, revealing my wife, Sarah, in a tender embrace with another man, Mark.
A collective gasp, then stunned silence. My meticulously built world crumbled, my dignity in ruins before my investors and team.
How could the woman I' d worshipped for fifteen years, the angel who supposedly saved my life, do this? It was a betrayal so profound, I couldn't comprehend it. Was our entire life a carefully constructed lie?
I retreated, shattered, only to uncover a chilling conspiracy that turned my heartbreak into a burning desire for retribution, setting in motion a fight for my very survival. The Pastor's 63rd Bride
Horror The town of Havenwood smells of damp earth and blind faith, but I only came back for my sister Maria's funeral. She was Pastor Morris' s 63rd bride, and like the 62 before her, she died on her wedding night.
Instead of grief, my parents were celebrating, beaming with pride as they informed me that Maria had "ascended" and that Pastor Morris had chosen me to be his next bride.
My own family, then my best friend Wendy, and finally even my fiancé Matthew, betrayed me, selling me out to a man they believed was holy, a man who had murdered my sister.
I was utterly alone, tied to an altar, staring at portraits of his previous victims, wondering why anyone would celebrate such horror.
But when Pastor Morris offered me a choice of how I wished to "depart," something snapped, and my defiance brought an unexpected reprieve. Then I witnessed Wendy, my own best friend, ecstatic as venomous snakes bit her, realizing this wasn't murder, but a horrifying, willing ritual suicide.
Driven by a desperate need to understand the madness, I confronted the supposed "master," who claimed to be my long-dead great-grandfather and that these sacrifices saved our town. But remembering my real great-grandfather's true teachings about grace, not blood, I saw through the imposter's lies.
Realizing he was the blight twisting our town' s faith, I plunged the knife meant for me into him, shattering the collective delusion and freeing Havenwood from its long nightmare. When Love Dies, Justice Rises
Romance For five years, I, Ethan Hayes, a tech billionaire, adored Chloe, showering her with every luxury, believing my love would finally win her over.
Then, a frantic call put me in the Cedars-Sinai ER, facing consent forms for emergency surgery after Chloe's ex, Ryder, joyrode my gift G-Wagen while drunk, critically injuring two.
My phone buzzed; Chloe, on her way to Aspen, brushed off my urgency, snapping, "I handled it. I sent the money. Just stay out of it."
My blood ran cold when the doctor emerged from the OR with grim news: her parents, on their way to the anniversary dinner I arranged, were dead.
Chloe only cared her Centurion Card was declined days later, furious I'd "ruined her trip."
She strolled home, demanding to know who died, then dismissed the truth from my housekeeper as "my dramatic attempts for attention."
In that sterile hospital hallway, my love for Chloe died; not faded, but extinguished, leaving a cold, clear emptiness, like I was replaced by a stranger.
The reality hit me: she paid a fixer to cover up her own parents' murder, and Ryder's old letters, hidden in a shoebox, revealed a years-long scheme to bleed me dry, confirming I was just their "ATM."
I knew then I wasn't just losing; I was fighting back, ready to use my wealth, not as a source of affection, but as a shield and a sword.
It was never a competition for her love; it was a conspiracy, and the fraud would end now, starting with cutting off every financial tie and bringing the full weight of justice down on them both. You might like
Pampered By The Ruthless Biker Boss
Anywho After six years away, I returned to my hometown with a single suitcase and a picture of my fiancé tangled up with my stepsister.
I thought it was just a simple, disgusting betrayal, but when I planted a bug in their private suite to get a confession, I heard a truth that froze my blood.
My fiancé, Leo, laughed about how my own father had already signed over my mother's legacy—The Nightingale Ranch—as collateral to his powerful family.
"Once this is all done, Claire will have nothing. And the woman you marry will be me," my stepsister Jenna cheered.
Leo cooed back, calling me a stray dog he'd kick to the curb once he was bored, a worthless woman who couldn't even hold onto her family's land.
My family had sold me out, and the man I loved was planning to leave me with absolutely nothing.
I didn't cry. The pain burned away into a cold, hard hate. How could my own father conspire with them to destroy the only thing I had left of my mother?
I crashed their prestigious charity auction and played their filthy recording over the speakers for the entire town to hear.
But when Leo charged at me in a murderous rage, a wall of leather and muscle stepped in front of me.
Kade "Chaos" Peterson, the terrifying President of the rival motorcycle club, crushed Leo's wrist and announced to the stunned room, "She's with me now." Jilted Wife Returns As A Billionaire Heiress
Paula Gardini Chloe had just given birth to twins, lying exhausted in a cramped, bustling hospital ward.
When she called her husband, Julian, he was busy partying with his actress mistress. He coldly hung up on her, having already drafted a brutal divorce agreement that would leave her with a pittance.
Strangers in the next bed loudly mocked her pitiful state, gossiping about how Julian was dumping her. For years, Chloe had erased her own identity to fit into his elite world, only to be thrown away like garbage. She was completely alone, clutching her helpless babies, bracing herself to sign the cruel papers just to survive.
She couldn't understand why her absolute devotion was met with such chilling indifference. Why did she have to suffer this ultimate humiliation while he celebrated with the woman who ruined her life?
But then, a senior doctor noticed a unique mole on her wrist and ran a secret DNA test. The results were staggering: Chloe was the long-lost daughter of the billionaire Beaumont family. With her fiercely protective parents and three powerful brothers suddenly forming an impenetrable fortress around her, Chloe picked up her phone and texted her arrogant husband.
"City Hall tomorrow at 10 AM. If you don't show up, my lawyer will handle everything. And trust me, you won't like their terms." The Runaway Wife: Hiding His Secret Triplets
Hen Bu Five years ago, I stood in the freezing rain at my mother's funeral, waiting for my husband.
Blake Knight, the billionaire NHL superstar, was two hours late. When he finally showed up, he brought his rumored girlfriend, the woman he had just rented a hotel rooftop for to celebrate her birthday.
Watching him defend her fake tears, my heart completely died. I took off my diamond wedding ring, placed it on my mother's headstone, and walked away from my marriage forever.
I fled to London, changed my name to Ava, and secretly raised the triplets he never knew existed. I thought I was finally safe from him.
But today, my kids vandalized a silver Aston Martin in our apartment's parking garage, and the owner caught my youngest daughter.
My phone rang. The voice on the other end was Blake's.
He had moved into my building, and he was holding my little girl in his penthouse, demanding her mother come get her immediately.
Panic suffocated me. If I walked through that door, my five years of hiding would be instantly destroyed. He would recognize me, realize I didn't get rid of our child like everyone thought, and he would use all his power to take my babies away.
I couldn't let him ruin my life again.
"I'm just her nanny," I lied through my teeth.
I frantically begged my best friend to go upstairs and rescue my daughter in my place. He bought the disguise, but now, the King of the Ice is dangerously obsessed with investigating my new identity. The Billionaire I Slept With Became My Husband
Apache I went to my stepsister's birthday party, foolishly hoping for a family truce.
Instead, she drugged my drink and had me shoved into a dark hotel suite, where a stranger took my innocence.
When I sneaked back home the next morning, battered and humiliated, I overheard my stepsister and stepmother laughing in the hallway.
They had orchestrated the whole trap to destroy my reputation so I would be forced to marry a thrice-divorced, abusive butcher.
"And don't forget the little extras we've been putting in her food," my stepmother gloated. "She'll never lose the weight. That fat Miss Piggy is meant to be your backdrop."
The revelation chilled me to the bone.
My years of punishing diets, the brutal exercise, the deep self-hatred—none of it was my fault.
It was poison, fed to me daily by the family I trusted.
I packed a single bag, took the commemorative coin I had stolen from the stranger's nightstand as a reminder of my lowest point, and vanished into the city.
One year later, having lost ninety pounds and transformed into a completely different woman, I agreed to attend the blind date with the butcher they arranged.
But because of a flipped brass table number, I sat down in front of the wrong man.
It was Julian Sinclair, the billionaire stranger from that dark room, and he looked at me and proposed a contract marriage. 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. The Ex-Wife's Return: His Child, Her Reckoning
A. N. Cruz Ivanna had everything: a stable marriage, a promising career, and the love of the man she had fought for, even against his own family.
But when she finally managed to conceive, fate tore her happiness away in the most heart-wrenching way imaginable. Her husband had wanted a child... just not with her.
She made the hardest decision of her life: signing a divorce agreement that left her with nothing. She left without looking back, her heart shattered, carrying a silent promise never to return.
Until now.
Four years have passed, and she's back in Boston, the city where her dreams were once shattered-with a new life, newfound strength... and a secret that will change everything.
She is no longer the same woman who left in silence. And her ex-husband isn't prepared to uncover what she's been hiding.
What will happen when the ex-wife returns with the one secret that might ruin him... or redeem him? The Ice CEO's Contracted Nanny
Priscila Ozilio Two years ago, a tragic accident shattered two families.
Emma was behind the wheel the day fate upended Damien's world. She lost her parents; he lost his wife. And little Luca, Damien's son, lost something irreplaceable: his voice.
Since that fateful day, Damien had built a fortress of cold indifference, vowing to never forgive the people he held responsible.
What he didn't anticipate was that fate would place one of them directly under his roof.
Driven by desperation to save her sister, who was gravely ill, Emma was forced to accept an exploitative employment contract. As Luca's nanny, she must live in the mansion of the man who had every reason to despise her.
What began as a contract signed under duress quickly morphed into a dangerous web.
Damien desired Emma with an intensity that defied reason, unaware that she was the cause of the past tragedy.
And when the truth came to light, Damien must make a choice: cling to the hatred that fueled him... or accept that love might rise from the ruins of devastation. Jilted Ex-Wife? The Secret Billionaire Heiress!
Hei Baidong I was in the hospital, enduring the agonizing pain of labor, while my husband, a famous hockey captain, refused to show up.
When I called him for the twelfth time, begging for him, he lost his patience.
"Giving birth is a woman's job, don't bother me with this stuff."
Then, I heard my stepsister's sweet voice offering him a drink, and he immediately softened before hanging up on me.
I gave birth to twins all by myself.
The nurses treated me with cold indifference, and the family in the next bed loudly mocked me as a pathetic "Puck Bunny" who was just an adopted orphan about to be dumped.
They were right. A month ago, my husband had thrown divorce papers at me, demanding I make way because my stepsister was pregnant with his child.
I thought my life was a joke. I was just a discarded prop he married to satisfy his grandfather, a fake daughter my adoptive parents only used to elevate my stepsister.
I was completely alone, ready to sign the papers just to protect my two babies.
But then, the head of the hospital rushed in, transferred me to the top-floor VIP suite, and handed me a DNA test.
It turned out I wasn't an unwanted orphan, but the long-lost daughter of the ultra-wealthy Sinclair family who had been searching for me for twenty years.
Looking at my billionaire parents and three powerful brothers who just flew in on their private jets to protect me, I picked up my phone to call my arrogant husband.
This time, I was going to make him leave with nothing. 
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