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Abel Dean

11 Published Stories

Abel Dean's Books and Stories

Blizzard Betrayal, Phoenix Revenge Rises

Blizzard Betrayal, Phoenix Revenge Rises

 Modern
5.0
For ten years, I was the family pariah, framed for a crime that destroyed my brother's career. My husband, Mark, never believed my innocence. Instead, he fell for the lies of my sister-in-law, Elsa-the woman who orchestrated my downfall. On our tenth anniversary, he stood me up to celebrate with her and our daughter. When I finally confronted him with divorce papers, he threw me out into a blizzard. My own daughter looked at me with cold, dismissive eyes. "Elsa said she should have been my mom." Left to freeze on the side of the road, my heart didn't just break; it turned to ash. The decade of abuse had finally killed every last bit of love I had. But I didn't die. A stranger saved me, and with his help, I found the one piece of evidence I needed to burn their world to the ground. Now, at the divorce settlement, I look at their smug faces and press play on a hidden recorder. "The world will soon know exactly who owes whom."
Six Years A Ghost, Now Real

Six Years A Ghost, Now Real

 Modern
5.0
My world shattered when I found the text on my husband's phone, revealing his year-long affair. But the deepest cut came from my eight-year-old son. He defended the other woman, Kallie, telling me, "Kallie says you're being selfish and you don't understand Dad." When I confronted them, my husband called me a liar about the baby I was secretly carrying. He had me beaten and publicly shamed at a party while our son watched, screaming that I was ugly and that Kallie should be his new mom. They took everything from me-my home, my dignity, and the love of my child. I was nothing to them but an obstacle. So, with the secret help of my mother-in-law, I faked my death. For six years, I was a ghost. I built a new life, a new family, and found a peace I never thought possible. Until the day my ex-husband and the son who betrayed me walked into my bakery, determined to reclaim a family they had already destroyed.
From Abandoned Wife To Powerful Heiress

From Abandoned Wife To Powerful Heiress

 Billionaires
5.0
My marriage ended at a charity gala I organized. One moment, I was the pregnant, happy wife of tech mogul Gabe Sullivan; the next, a reporter' s phone screen announced to the world that he and his childhood sweetheart, Harper, were expecting a child. Across the room, I saw them together, his hand resting on her stomach. This wasn't just an affair; it was a public declaration that erased me and our unborn baby. To protect his company's billion-dollar IPO, Gabe, his mother, and even my own adoptive parents conspired against me. They moved Harper into our home, into my bed, treating her like royalty while I became a prisoner. They painted me as unstable, a threat to the family's image. They accused me of cheating and claimed my child wasn't his. The final command was unthinkable: terminate my pregnancy. They locked me in a room and scheduled the procedure, promising to drag me there if I refused. But they made a mistake. They gave me back my phone to keep me quiet. Feigning surrender, I made one last, desperate call to a number I had kept hidden for years-a number belonging to my biological father, Antony Dean, the head of a family so powerful, they could make my husband's world burn.
Love's Ashes, A Bitter Price

Love's Ashes, A Bitter Price

 Romance
5.0
The world saw my husband, Kaden, as a tragic hero, honor-bound to me while his heart belonged to his childhood sweetheart, Cali. I believed it too, willing to endure the pain for his sake. On our anniversary, he came home with her. He didn't just ignore the special dinner I'd made; he grabbed the tablecloth and sent our entire anniversary meal crashing to the floor in a deafening shatter of crystal and porcelain. He pinned me against the wall, his kiss brutal, whispering that hurting me was how he tortured her. This became our life. He gave her a replica of my late mother's most precious gift. On the anniversary of our first baby's death, he left me grieving to comfort Cali because her cat had died. When he returned, he threw the tiny booties I had knitted for our son into the fire. I lost another pregnancy—twins this time. In the hospital, he abandoned me to go play tennis with her because she was bored. The final straw was when Cali scattered our twins' ashes to the wind. He saw my pain, heard my screams, and defended her. "Unintentional harm is not a crime, Joyce," he said. In that moment, the woman he knew as Joyce died. I took the pills that would erase her forever, allowing me—Iris—to take control.
The Philanthropist's Daughter, The Traitor's Wife

The Philanthropist's Daughter, The Traitor's Wife

 Modern
5.0
Five years ago, my parents, philanthropists who lost everything in a financial crisis, were framed for fraud and died with their names destroyed. My fiancé, Jaydan Beasley, was my only light, my savior, defying everyone to stand by me. Today, I spent my last twenty dollars on roses for him, celebrating our love, unaware that the man I adored was systematically stealing my life's work-a social impact project meant to redeem my family's name-and funneling it to his old flame, Cuba Dawson. I overheard him, his voice chillingly unfamiliar, confessing his deceit to his best friend. He called me "fragile," "trusting," a "charity case," and revealed our entire marriage was a calculated strategy to pave the way for Cuba's success. The roses slipped from my hand, my world shattering. He had meticulously planned to discard me once Cuba's company went public, leaving me with nothing, again. The man I thought was my protector was, in fact, my destroyer, turning my milestones into markers of his betrayal. The love I felt curdled into a cold, hard rage. He had taken everything-my family's name, my work, my love. But he had no idea who he was dealing with. I would make them pay. I would take it all back.
Marrying My Rival, Finding Forever

Marrying My Rival, Finding Forever

 Romance
5.0
My phone rang for the tenth time. It was Olivia. The woman I was supposed to marry in thirty minutes. "Liam needs me," she said, distant and thin. "He fell during a stunt on set. The doctor said it' s serious." This wasn' t new. It was always Liam. Two months ago, she left our engagement party for him. Last month, she skipped our final wedding planner meeting for him. Each time, I forgave her, telling myself her heart was too kind. "So that' s it?" My voice was dangerously calm. "You' re choosing him over me. On our wedding day." "You' re making me choose. It' s not fair," she accused. "I thought you loved me. I thought you would support me." She hung up before I could respond. Humiliation washed over me, hot and suffocating. My mother' s worried voice reached me, asking where I was. Something inside me snapped. With a roar of pure rage, I hurled my phone against the wall. It shattered like broken promises. I kicked over a table, sending white lilies crashing. Then, a reckless, insane idea formed. I pulled over, grabbed my spare phone, and dialed a number I knew by heart. "Chloe Adams," I said, my voice steady. "Marry me. Right now."
The Price of Quiet Happiness

The Price of Quiet Happiness

 Billionaires
5.0
I married Mark Davis to escape the predetermined life of a tech heiress, seeking something simple and real with a man I believed gentle and devoted. For three years, he was the perfect stay-at-home husband, and I thought I' d found my quiet happiness. Then the doorbell rang. Standing on my porch was Mark' s mother, Brenda, and a gaggle of women, their eyes greedy as they demanded I wash Brenda' s feet as a "sign of respect" and to learn "how to be a proper wife." When I refused, she slapped me, triggering an onslaught of physical and verbal abuse, accusing me of being barren, ungrateful, and a "freeloader" while touting Mark as a self-made millionaire. They attempted to force-feed me a live toad as a fertility cure. The humiliation deepened when Mark, on speakerphone, not only confirmed their delusions of his success but called me a "gold-digging leech" and a "pathetic, desperate woman," telling his family not to "go easy on her." His betrayal snapped something inside me, igniting a cold fury as I realized the depths of his calculated deception. Just as they were about to inflict more violence, my father, Mr. Thompson, burst through the door, bodyguards in tow.
A Debt of Love, A Family's Curse

A Debt of Love, A Family's Curse

 Horror
5.0
We moved into a new house in August, a fresh start my dad called the American dream. Bigger house, two-car garage-everything seemed perfect, a step up for our family. Then, the shelf in the garage collapsed, crushing Grandma' s precious altar, the one she' d used for protection for years. Soon after, my uncle Bob died in a freak car accident, and then I fell violently ill with a fever no doctor could break. I was lucid enough to hear my parents whisper about something wrong, something unnatural. Lying there, burning up, I heard voices, saw things no one else could, arguing with an invisible presence that seemed to cling to me. Mom desperately sought out a strange old woman, Mrs. Albright, who claimed to understand what was happening. She told us it wasn't me that was sick; it was our new house. She said we had broken an ancient pact, angered a hungry entity by discarding Grandma's altar and a carved wooden box. My pragmatic father, who believed only in logic and reason, was forced to confront the impossible: Mrs. Albright knew everything, details we hadn' t shared, about the altar, the box, and the feeling that something was watching us. How could she know? What ancient bargain had my family made, and why was it now demanding payment? There was no denying it now; the world had shifted, and we were trapped in a nightmare of our own making. "Find the box," she rasped, her unsettling pale eyes fixed on me, "and make an offering, or it will take another one of you."
My Grief, His Masterpiece

My Grief, His Masterpiece

 Romance
5.0
The phone buzzed, a relentless vibration I tried to ignore, but Sarah' s furious face on the video call told me I couldn' t. My artist husband, Ethan, had unveiled his new exhibition, "Raw Truths," a brutal public dissection of our dead marriage. The centerpiece? A twenty-foot-tall projection of me sleeping, mouth open, drooling. The internet exploded, half calling him a monster, half calling me a willing muse. Then I scrolled to the next piece: a distorted loop of my voice, crying after a fight, packaged and sold as art. My phone buzzed again, Ethan' s name on the caller ID. Sarah, my lawyer, ordered me not to answer, but a primal urge to understand the "why" gripped me. He told me he' d made art, groundbreaking art. I screamed that he was selling my tears, my private grief, for fame. His response? This backlash was hurting his career. Then came the real dagger: he' d bring my devout grandmother into this, expose our secret marriage, destroy her if I didn' t release a public apology calling myself a willing collaborator. My world shattered. How could he? How could he use my deepest fear against me? Before I could even process his threat, my aunt called, sobbing. Grandma had collapsed, she' d seen something on the news. It was too late. He had already destroyed the last innocent part of my life. Lying in the hospital, my grandmother gone, I watched Ethan on TV, publicly mourning, accepting accolades. He had taken everything. My peace, my privacy, my family. A cold, hard resolve settled in my chest. If the world wanted a tragic muse, I' d give them a tragedy they' d never forget. I would erase myself from his world completely.
Too Late, My King: She's The Champion Now

Too Late, My King: She's The Champion Now

 Romance
5.0
I was Elara Vance, a reclusive artist who found her only solace in the vast VR world of Aethelgard, playing as my plain, unnoticeable avatar, Nightshade. For three loyal years, I was Soulbound to ApexKing, the game's golden boy and a real-life CEO, faithfully by his side despite the brutal forum mockery of our mismatched appearance. But then, a new star, SugarRush, burst onto the scene, brazenly stealing my old, anonymous art identity, "HoneyDew." On our three-year anniversary, in a public spectacle before the entire server, ApexKing shamelessly gave the rare "Twinflame" set I'd painstakingly crafted for him to her, before callously dissolving our bond and calling me a "placeholder." The humiliation intensified as he branded me a guild thief, placing a massive real-money bounty on my head, turning every player against me. My carefully guarded anonymity shattered when Tiffany Bellwether, SugarRush herself, doxxed my real identity and sent thugs to threaten me. Hunted relentlessly in-game and stalked in reality, my world imploded. How could the man who' d once sworn "against the world" with me believe every calculated lie from a gold-digging impersonator, dismissing three years of unwavering loyalty? The injustice boiled, leaving a raw, festering wound, and a single, burning question: why me? But rock bottom ignited a cold, dangerous fury. I refused to be a victim any longer. When a powerful, enigmatic rogue, RiverWraith, mysteriously offered his protection, I knew it was time to step out of the shadows. I would expose Tiffany' s fraud, clear Nightshade' s name, and reclaim every piece of my stolen life.
Betrayed: Turn to Embrace for Love

Betrayed: Turn to Embrace for Love

 Modern
5.0
Here is the translation of the text into English: "My boyfriend Zhao Wei'an had a huge argument with me over my childhood friend. Three months later, he came knocking on my door. 'Weiwei, it’s been three months. Do you realize your mistake? This time I’ll forgive you, but next time you can’t do that again...' Me? Behind the door, I was passionately kissing his cousin. After three days of cold war, I had already taken it as a breakup. You can’t say Scorpio men aren’t patient, right? The reason I agreed to be with Zhao Wei'an in the first place was because he looked like his cousin. Now that the white moonlight has returned, who still remembers the stand-in?"