Abel Dean
11 Published Stories
Abel Dean's Books and Stories
From Abandoned Wife To Powerful Heiress
Billionaires 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. Blizzard Betrayal, Phoenix Revenge Rises
Modern 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
Modern 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. Love's Ashes, A Bitter Price
Romance 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
Modern 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
Romance 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
Billionaires 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
Horror 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
Romance 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
Romance 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. You might like
I Slapped My Fiancé-Then Married His Billionaire Nemesis
Jessica C. Dolan Being second best is practically in my DNA. My sister got the love, the attention, the spotlight. And now, even her damn fiancé.
Technically, Rhys Granger was my fiancé now-billionaire, devastatingly hot, and a walking Wall Street wet dream. My parents shoved me into the engagement after Catherine disappeared, and honestly? I didn't mind. I'd crushed on Rhys for years. This was my chance, right? My turn to be the chosen one?
Wrong.
One night, he slapped me. Over a mug. A stupid, chipped, ugly mug my sister gave him years ago. That's when it hit me-he didn't love me. He didn't even see me. I was just a warm-bodied placeholder for the woman he actually wanted. And apparently, I wasn't even worth as much as a glorified coffee cup.
So I slapped him right back, dumped his ass, and prepared for disaster-my parents losing their minds, Rhys throwing a billionaire tantrum, his terrifying family plotting my untimely demise.
Obviously, I needed alcohol. A lot of alcohol.
Enter him.
Tall, dangerous, unfairly hot. The kind of man who makes you want to sin just by existing. I'd met him only once before, and that night, he just happened to be at the same bar as my drunk, self-pitying self. So I did the only logical thing: I dragged him into a hotel room and ripped off his clothes.
It was reckless. It was stupid. It was completely ill-advised.
But it was also: Best. Sex. Of. My. Life.
And, as it turned out, the best decision I'd ever made.
Because my one-night stand isn't just some random guy. He's richer than Rhys, more powerful than my entire family, and definitely more dangerous than I should be playing with.
And now, he's not letting me go. Marrying My Runaway Groom's Powerful Father
Temple Madison I was sitting in the Presidential Suite of The Pierre, wearing a Vera Wang gown worth more than most people earn in a decade. It was supposed to be the wedding of the century, the final move to merge two of Manhattan's most powerful empires.
Then my phone buzzed. It was an Instagram Story from my fiancé, Jameson. He was at Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris with a caption that read: "Fuck the chains. Chasing freedom." He hadn't just gotten cold feet; he had abandoned me at the altar to run across the world.
My father didn't come in to comfort me. He burst through the door roaring about a lost acquisition deal, telling me the Holland Group would strip our family for parts if the ceremony didn't happen by noon. My stepmother wailed about us becoming the laughingstock of the Upper East Side. The Holland PR director even suggested I fake a "panic attack" to make myself look weak and sympathetic to save their stock price. Then Jameson’s sleazy cousin, Pierce, walked in with a lopsided grin, offering to "step in" and marry me just to get his hands on my assets.
I looked at them and realized I wasn't a daughter or a bride to anyone in that room. I was a failed asset, a bouncing check, a girl whose own father told her to go to Paris and "beg" the man who had just publicly humiliated her.
The girl who wanted to be loved died in that mirror. I realized that if I was going to be sold to save a merger, I was going to sell myself to the one who actually controlled the money.
I marched past my parents and walked straight into the VIP holding room. I looked the most powerful man in the room—Jameson’s cold, ruthless uncle, Fletcher Holland—dead in the eye and threw the iPad on the table.
"Jameson is gone," I said, my voice as hard as stone. "Marry me instead." Craving The Wrong Brother
Elysian Sparrow She spent ten years chasing after the right brother, only to fall for the wrong one in one weekend.
~~~
Sloane Mercer has been hopelessly in love with her best friend, Finn Hartley, since college. For ten long years, she's stood by him, stitching him back together every time Delilah Crestfield-his toxic on-and-off girlfriend-shattered his heart.
But when Delilah gets engaged to another man, Sloane thinks this might finally be her chance to have Finn for herself. She couldn't be more wrong.
Heartbroken and desperate, Finn decides to crash Delilah's wedding and fight for her one last time. And he wants Sloane by his side.
Reluctantly, Sloane follows him to Asheville, hoping that being close to Finn will somehow make him see her the way she's always seen him.
Everything changes when she meets Knox Hartley, Finn's older brother-a man who couldn't be more different from Finn. He's dangerously magnetic. Knox sees right through Sloane and makes it his mission to pull her into his world.
What starts as a game-a twisted bet between them-soon turns into something deeper. Sloane is trapped between two brothers: one who's always broken her heart and another who seems hell-bent on claiming it... no matter the cost.
CONTENT WARNING:
This story is strongly 18+.
It delves into dark romance themes such as obsession and lust with morally complex characters.
While this is a love story, reader discretion is advised.
The Sterling Scandal: Married To The Uncle
C.D I was at my own engagement party at the Sterling estate when the world started tilting. Victoria Sterling, my future mother-in-law, smiled coldly as she watched me struggle with a cup of tea that had been drugged to ruin me.
Before I could find my fiancé, Ryan, a waiter dragged me into the forbidden West Wing and locked me in a room with Julian Sterling, the family’s "fallen titan" who had been confined to a wheelchair for years.
The door burst open to a frenzy of camera flashes and theatrical screams. Victoria framed me as a seductress caught in the act, and Ryan didn't even try to listen to my pleas, calling me "cheap leftovers" before walking away with his pregnant mistress. When I turned to my own family for help, my father signed a document severing our relationship for a five-million-dollar payout from Julian. They traded me like a commodity without a second thought.
I didn't understand why my own parents were so eager to sell me, or how Ryan could look at me with such disgust after promising me forever. I was a sacrifice, a pawn used to protect the family's offshore accounts, and I couldn't fathom how every person I loved had a price tag for my destruction.
With nowhere left to go, I married Julian in a bleak ceremony at City Hall. He slid a heavy diamond onto my finger and whispered, "We have a war to start." That night, inside his secret penthouse, I watched the paralyzed man stand up from his wheelchair and activate a screen filled with the Sterling family's darkest secrets. The execution had officially begun. The Bride He Cast Away on Their Wedding Night
PageProfit Studio In the glittering world of high society and cutthroat ambition, a single sentence shatters a marriage: "Let's get a divorce."
For three years, Claire Thompson has lived in exile, her marriage to the powerful Nelson Cooper a hollow shell existing only on paper. Shipped abroad on her wedding day and utterly forgotten, she returns only to be handed divorce papers. But Claire is no longer the timid, heartbroken girl she once was. Behind her quiet facade lies a woman transformed, secretly rejoicing at her newfound freedom.
However, freedom comes with a price. As Claire signs the papers with relief, a chilling phone call reveals a dark truth: the threats she faced overseas were no accident, and the trail leads shockingly close to home-to the family that raised her and the husband who discarded her.
Just as she prepares to sever all ties, a twist of fate pulls her back into the gilded cage. Nelson, for reasons unknown, suddenly stalls the divorce. Meanwhile, the family that disowned her and the fragile, manipulative sister who stole her life are determined to ruin her reputation and drive her out for good.
But Claire is playing a different game now. With a mysterious new identity, powerful allies, and secrets of her own, she is no one's pawn. As hidden truths unravel and loyalties are tested, a stunning question emerges: In this high-stakes battle of love, betrayal, and revenge, who is truly trapping whom? Too Late, Mr. White! I'm Married To Your Rival Now
Krystal Twelve years of love, loyalty, and promises-shattered in one gunshot moment.
Aria thought she knew what love meant: sacrifices, patience, blind faith in the man she'd called her fiancé for over a decade. But on Valentine's Day, with a gun pointed in their direction, Liam instinctively shielded his ex, Sophia-while Aria was left bleeding and invisible.
"You almost died!"
"And he didn't even look at me, Lili. He wrapped his arms around her like I was nothing."
Torn between heartbreak and dignity, Aria makes a bold move-marrying Liam's wealthy rival, Aiden Carter, in an impulsive act of revenge. But Aiden is more than a rebound. He's powerful, possessive, and unexpectedly protective-and he plays for keeps.
Now caught between a love that failed her, and a man who may demand more than she's ready to give. Aria's heart faces the ultimate reckoning.
Will she finally become someone's first choice-or lose herself trying? THE BILLIONAIRE'S REGRET, CHASING AFTER ME
Mijaly After the divorce, she became the dream woman everyone longed for.
James Ferguson saved Zelda Liamson and always did whatever she asked, making sure she had everything she could ever want. Zelda thought it was true love. After five years of marriage, she realized she was nothing more than his favourite pet, while he was her whole world.
Then, the woman James truly loved came back, and Zelda demanded a divorce. James mocked her, saying, " You can't survive without me. What will you do without the Ferguson's name? "
But Zelda did run away and never looked back, receiving marriage proposals every day.
James lost his mind and returned, begging Zelda, "Please, come back to me. Give me another chance." His eyes were full of love and desperation. Kidnapped by the Cold-Hearted CEO: His Sweet Obsession
PageProfit Studio Ashley Carter never imagined her wedding day would end with her being kidnapped by a total stranger. Even more confusing? The man who took her, Charles Blackwood, claims she's his bride. But Ashley has never seen him before in her life.
Charles, a powerful and cold-hearted CEO, is used to getting what he wants-and now, he wants Ashley. Though she doesn't remember him, he's determined to make her his, body and soul. He showers her with relentless affection and overwhelming desire, leaving her no room to escape his grasp.
Ashley tries to resist his overbearing charm, but Charles is persistent. Every touch, every kiss, pulls her deeper into a world of passion and obsession. She may not know who he is, but he's about to make sure she never forgets him again.
But can love truly grow from such a twisted beginning? Or is she just a pawn in his dangerous game of desire?