Andriana Neden
12 Published Stories
Andriana Neden's Books and Stories
The Billionaire's Regret: My Hidden Wife
Modern I sat at a mahogany table long enough to land a plane on, signing the papers that ended my two-year marriage to billionaire Eric Koch.
He didn't even show up for the divorce; he was in a private cigar lounge downstairs, sending his lawyer to hand me a five-million-dollar check to buy my silence like I was a discarded employee.
For two years, I had perfected the role of the "mouse"—the plain, timid wife Eric looked right past, never suspecting I was actually Rose, the world-renowned designer behind a secret fashion empire. I never told him I was the "angel" who dragged his unconscious body from a burning car years ago, the woman he’d been searching for while he ignored the one across the breakfast table. To celebrate my freedom, I had a one-night stand with a stranger in a penthouse, only to wake up and realize the man I’d just slept with was my ex-husband.
Before the ink on our divorce was dry, Eric used his billions to buy my studio, trapping me in a contract that forces me to work for him as a "lowly assistant" or face a fifty-million-dollar penalty.
I watched in silence as a fame-hungry actress paraded around his office wearing my stolen heirloom locket—the only proof of my true identity—claiming she was the mystery woman from his bed. Eric looked right through my frumpy disguise with the same cold indifference he showed his wife, never realizing the woman he was hunting was standing right in front of him.
I couldn't understand how he could be so obsessed with finding a ghost while treating the living woman who saved him like garbage. Why was he so determined to own every piece of Rose while he had spent two years throwing Aislinn away?
"Tell him nothing," I whispered to my reflection as I reapplied the thick foundation that masked my face.
"You're dangerous, Ann Reese," he told me later, his eyes narrowing as he sensed a familiar spark behind my thick glasses.
I adjusted my bun and looked him in the eye, ready to play the long game. He thinks he’s bought my future, but he’s about to find out that Rose doesn’t just design couture—she designs ruins. Forsaken by the Alpha, Chosen by Fate
Werewolf I woke up before dawn to slice strawberries for my husband, Gabe, excited to finally tell him I was pregnant. As a "Wolfless" Omega, I had always been looked down upon, but I thought this baby proved I wasn't broken.
But Gabe didn't come home alone. He walked in with Harper, a woman wearing the silk robe he had bought for me, reeking of his scent.
He didn't kiss me. He didn't ask how I was. Instead, he sat her in my chair.
"Make more pancakes," he ordered. "Harper is hungry."
When I refused, demanding he explain why another woman was wearing my clothes, he didn't apologize. He used the Alpha Command.
The pressure slammed me to the floor, crushing my bones and threatening the life inside my womb. I had to crawl out of the room while they laughed.
My adoptive parents didn't save me; they sold me out for a council seat and a diamond necklace.
Then came the public execution of my heart. At the Ascension Ceremony, Gabe took the microphone and rejected me in front of the entire Pack to make Harper his Luna.
But they didn't just kick me out. They dragged me to a dirty, back-alley clinic. His mother ordered them to "remove the parasite" inside me.
I screamed as they strapped me down. But as the needle touched my skin, the steel door was ripped off its hinges.
The Alpha King stood in the debris, his eyes burning with golden rage as he looked at the necklace I wore.
"Who dares touch my daughter?" he roared.
I wasn't a defect. I was the lost White Wolf Princess. And the man standing behind the King wasn't just a guard—he was my true mate. A Scientist's Revenge: New Life
Modern I removed an intern from an award nomination for stealing my dead sister's research. My husband, Craig, was furious. He chose to defend her, not me.
His rage turned violent. He destroyed my life's work-a cure for Alzheimer's-then shoved me so hard I miscarried our child.
He called me "dramatic" as I bled on the floor.
Then he locked me in our home, a prisoner, forcing me to sign over my patents to his mistress, the woman who drove my sister to suicide. He thought he had broken me, that I was his to control.
But when he tried to humiliate me in the most depraved way imaginable, I saw my chance. I threw myself from a second-story window.
As I lay broken on the ground, watching him rush to his mistress's side, I made a vow. My revenge was just beginning. When Love Collides With Dark Past
Romance For two years, I was in love with a man I only knew as C.L. Our anonymous online relationship was my safe haven from a world that terrified me, built on one simple rule: we would never meet.
That rule shattered with a single text. He was a bestselling author, and his publisher was forcing him on a book tour.
"I need to meet you," he wrote. "I can't do this without you."
My social anxiety spiraled. I broke the only rule I could control and told him we should end it. The next morning, my boss ordered me to deliver files to our company's top client-the notoriously private author, Cristian Lancaster. It was him. My anonymous lover was my boss.
He looked devastated, as if he' d been crying over my message, but he treated me like a stranger. I later found out the truth: he' d known who I was for two years, quietly waiting for me to trust him.
But as our worlds finally collided, a jealous manager saw her chance for revenge. She forced me into a dinner with a dangerous man from my past, a man who drugged my drink and drove me toward a desolate road.
As the car sped into the darkness, I hit record on my phone, realizing this was no longer about saving our love story. It was about saving my life. His Celebrity Mistress's Downfall
Billionaires I gave up my twenty-billion-dollar inheritance and cut ties with my family, all for my boyfriend of five years, Ignatz.
But just as I was about to tell him I was pregnant with our child, he dropped a bombshell.
He needed me to take the fall for his childhood sweetheart, Everleigh. She'd been in a hit-and-run, and her career couldn't handle the scandal.
When I refused and told him about our baby, his face went cold. He told me to terminate the pregnancy immediately.
"Everleigh is the woman I love," he said. "Finding out you're pregnant with my child would destroy her."
He had his assistant schedule the appointment and sent me to the clinic alone. There, the nurse told me the procedure carried a high risk of permanent infertility.
He knew. And he still sent me.
I walked out of that clinic, choosing to keep my child. At that exact moment, a news alert lit up my phone. It was a glowing article announcing that Ignatz and Everleigh were expecting their first child, complete with a photo of his hand resting protectively on her stomach.
My world shattered. Wiping away a tear, I found the number I hadn't called in five years.
"Dad," I whispered, my voice breaking. "I'm ready to come home." Seven Years Gone: A New Me
Romance The first thing I felt was a dull throb, the smell of antiseptic, and the piercing brightness of a hospital room. A nurse informed me I was Olivia Vance, and my husband, Alexander Vance, wasn't there.
Then she mentioned another "accident" and a woman named Sophia, saying, "You'd think a man like him would have better things to do." My nurse, Emily, told me I had a concussion and a fractured wrist, and that she'd seen me a "dozen times" for pulling "stunts to get his attention."
I looked down at a wedding band on my left hand – a cruel joke. I was told it was 2025. My last memory was 2018. Seven missing years. And an unfamiliar face stared back from the reflection-thin, tired, broken. My phone, filled with pictures of a cold mansion, smiling strangers, and a dangerous-looking Alexander Vance, confirmed I was married to him.
Then I found the contract: an agreement signed in 2020 to be his public wife for five years in exchange for a settlement. The term was up. Scrolling through desperate, one-sided texts to him, I found a chilling message from two days ago: "He will never love you. You're just a substitute. He's with me tonight."
A violent memory hit me: a yacht, Sophia Miller's poisonous voice telling me, "He's tired of you, Olivia. You were just a placeholder." Then her hands on my chest, a sudden shove, and the cold water engulfing me. The bruises, the fractured wrist, the aching ribs – all for a stranger I had apparently loved.
My past was a living nightmare, but now, with a blank slate, I knew one thing: I was not bringing that broken woman back. Scarred By a Simple Purchase
Modern The emerald silk dress was my quiet celebration, a well-deserved indulgence after years of hard work. I clicked 'confirm purchase,' a simple act that should have brought joy.
Instead, it launched a nightmare. The boutique owner, a Mr. Thorne, called, accusing me of theft and fraud, claiming a refund request for a dress I never even received.
My world shattered when he weaponized social media, branding me a "THIEF" with my face and workplace plastered online, unleashing a torrent of vitriol that bled into my office, jeopardizing my career.
How could a simple purchase turn into public humiliation, extortion, and the complete destruction of my reputation by a man who was clearly lying? And why was everyone so quick to believe him?
Cornered, abandoned, and facing an ultimatum from my boss, a cold rage ignited within me-I decided then and there, I wouldn't just make this go away; I would burn his carefully constructed world to the ground. A Quiet Sadness Remains
Romance My husband, Ethan, an art history professor, used to call me his muse, claiming the lines of my architectural designs inspired his work.
Then, his voice, once filled with adoration for me, began to brim with passion for Chloe, his new TA-a "brilliant mind" and his latest "muse" with whom he was spending "late nights in the archives."
The faint, floral perfume clinging to his clothes, dismissed as paranoia, solidified when I found his laptop: not Renaissance art, but dozens of photos of Chloe, culminating in a chilling image-Chloe, wearing my silk robe, on our bed, dated just two nights ago when he was supposedly working late.
A sudden, sick curiosity twisted into blinding betrayal, as the sanctuary I designed with such care became a monument to his deceit, turning my perfect partnership into a living lie.
With newfound, icy clarity, I vowed to dismantle the life we' d built, brick by painful brick, and reclaim every piece of myself he had shattered. The Scavenger's Secret: More Than Just Junk
Modern In the Iron Vultures biker club, I was Jennifer Johns, the resident weirdo, the perpetually broke scavenger who couldn't even ride a bike. They called me useless, a charity case.
But then came the Sturgis Gauntlet, a brutal, mandatory rally that threatened to bankrupt us. Suddenly, the club charter was dragged out, revealing my forgotten title: Treasurer. I was forced to go.
On the road, their high-tech bikes overheated, water ran out, and they faced disqualification. I quietly offered up "my junk" – military-grade canteens and custom coolant – saving them. They just looked at me with pity, convinced I was so poor I' d sacrificed my pathetic scrap for them.
When we were ambushed by the Silver Vipers, everyone was knocked out, except for me. I hid, then emerged to tend to them, only for Doc, our medic, to accuse me. "You' re the only one untouched. You set us up, traitor."
They dumped out my canvas sack, expecting to find proof of betrayal. Instead, a pathetic collection of rusty bolts and frayed wires spilled onto the ground. The anger faded, replaced by overwhelming guilt and pity. They believed I was simply a girl so poor I collected garbage to sell online.
They thought I was a loyal but pitiable member, too useless to be anything else. But standing there, watching them see only what they expected, I felt a cold surge of something else. This wasn't pity. This was opportunity. My Ruthless Uncle's Justice
Billionaires My alarm buzzed, a cheerful tune that mocked the dread in my stomach. Today was the day: our family road trip to Vegas. Last time, it was the day I died.
I remembered the screech of tires, shrill against hot asphalt. The sickening crunch of metal, the world swirling upside down. Then, the suffocating smell of gasoline, my own blood. Frank – my father – had orchestrated it all. He'd meticulously sabotaged our car, intent on murdering my mother and me for our organs. His mistress, Jessica, had a dying son, Leo, and we were merely unwilling donors for their twisted scheme.
I gasped, shooting bolt upright in my cramped suburban bedroom. The morning sun streamed through the cheap floral wallpaper, a cruel contrast to the grim reality that had just resurfaced. The gruesome memory of my death, brutally betrayed by my own flesh and blood, washed over me like a tidal wave of ice and raw panic.
My blood ran cold. This wasn't a nightmare; it was today. The same day he planned to carve me up for parts. How could a father, the sworn protector, conceive such a monstrous act for another woman' s child? The sheer injustice, the chilling horror of it, was unbearable, turning my stomach.
But then, the nausea receded, replaced by something cold, hard, and sharp: pure, unyielding rage. I wasn't that naive 19-year-old anymore. I was a ghost with a score to settle. This time, there would be no crash. No organs harvested. This time, they would be the ones to feel pain. The Quiet Assistant's Roar
Modern For five years, I played a part.
I was Ava, the quiet admin assistant.
I lived in a Brooklyn walk-up, deeply in love with my charming boyfriend, Ethan Hayes.
Our life together felt so real, so perfectly normal.
Then, one night, I overheard him.
He called me a "minor asset to be divested."
A low-risk, low-yield stock, ready to be cut loose.
It was for his upcoming merger with Chloe Parker.
He was getting married, and I was just his secret.
His 'simple' comfort to manage.
The crushing blow wasn't just his words, but his fiancé Chloe' s endless DMs.
She taunted me with pictures of their engagement ring and private jet "strategy sessions."
My heart shattered.
Then, during a car crash, his first instinct solidified everything.
He shielded an absent Chloe, not the bleeding me beside him.
He chose his lie over my life.
How could the man who swore he loved me now see me as a disposable asset?
Worth less than a lie?
How could I have so completely misjudged him?
The indignity and calculated cruelty burned through my veins.
They thought I was simple.
They thought I was weak.
But they were about to find out how wrong they were.
I returned home, not to a Brooklyn walk-up.
I returned to AuraSphere.
The multi-billion dollar private equity firm my family owns.
And I was coming for them. Reborn on Mock SAT Day
Young Adult My eyes snapped open to the blare of my alarm, October 17th. Senior year. Mock SAT Day. A familiar, suffocating nightmare.
For a second, I didn' t know where I was, then the cold dread washed over me: I was back. Back to that exact day. The beginning of the end.
I remembered it all: the accusations, Tiffany Hayes' smug face, Chad' s betrayal, my mother' s tears and worsening cough, the crushing weight of a ruined future, my own descent into despair that had culminated in unspeakable suffering.
I had meticulously sabotaged myself this time, purposely failing the mock SAT to avoid repeating history.
But when the scores were posted, Tiffany Hayes had a near-perfect score of 1580.
Even more terrifying, she had replicated my unique, deliberately flawed math solutions-down to a random doodle I' d made. How? How was she inside my head?
This wasn't just cheating; it was invasive, a violation of my very thoughts. No more.
This time, armed with my father' s secret tech empire and a former military intelligence expert Mr. K, I wouldn't be the victim.
I was going to expose her, reclaim my life, and save my family from the nightmare she' d already put us through once. 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." Traded Husbands, Tangled Hearts: Can Destiny Be Changed?
Mia Caldwell In their previous lives, Gracie married Theo. Outwardly, they were the perfect academic couple, but privately, she became nothing more than a stepping stone for his ambition, and met a tragic end.
Her younger sister Ellie wed Brayden, only to be abandoned for his true love, left alone and disgraced.
This time, both sisters were reborn. Ellie rushed to marry Theo, chasing the success Gracie once had-unaware she was repeating the same heartbreak.
Gracie instead entered a contract marriage with Brayden. But when danger struck, he defended her fiercely.
Could fate finally rewrite their tragic endings? Too Late, Mr. Billionaire: You Can't Afford Me Now
Theodora Birnir The whispers said that out of bitter jealousy, Hadley shoved Eric's beloved down the stairs, robbing the unborn child of life.
To avenge, Eric forced Hadley abroad and completely cut her off. Years later, she reemerged, and they felt like strangers.
When they met again, she was the nightclub's star, with men ready to pay fortunes just to glimpse her elusive performance.
Unable to contain himself, Eric blocked her path, asking, "Is this truly how you earn a living now? Why not come back to me?"
Hadley's lips curved faintly. "If you’re eager to see me, you’d better join the queue, 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." 
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