Bing Daner
11 Published Stories
Bing Daner's Books and Stories
After Divorce:My arrogant ex-husband regrets
Modern I sat alone at my long marble dining table, staring at a plate of cold truffle risotto. My husband, Jere, was late again, claiming he was stuck in a "war zone" of a board meeting for a multi-billion dollar merger.
A single Instagram notification shattered the silence. It was a photo of a candlelit birthday dinner, featuring a man's hand resting on a white tablecloth. I recognized the slight veins, the jagged scar on the thumb, and the navy-faced Patek Philippe watch I had spent six months tracking down as a wedding gift. Jere wasn't in a boardroom; he was celebrating his ex-girlfriend Irina's birthday while texting me to "don't wait up."
The next morning, I followed him to a VIP hospital wing. I watched through a cracked door as my husband cuddled a five-year-old boy and whispered tender promises to Irina. When he came home, he tried to buy my silence with a rare pink diamond bracelet, but I found the receipt: he had bought two identical ones. He had branded his wife and his mistress with matching jewelry, using hidden trackers to keep us both on a leash. When I confronted him, he didn't flinch. He coldly reminded me that he owned my father's massive debts and could send him to prison for insolvency fraud with one phone call.
"Stop with the attitude, Deliah," he said.
I felt like a ghost haunting my own life, trapped in a gilded cage by the man who paid for my mother's heart surgery while keeping a secret family across town. The humiliation peaked at our rescheduled anniversary dinner when Jere received a text, threw a stack of hundreds at me like I was a stranger, and abandoned me in a crowded restaurant to rush back to her.
"Pay the bill," he commanded before walking out.
Standing in the wreckage of a shattered crystal vase back at the penthouse, I realized my silence was the only thing keeping his empire standing. I pulled the crumpled divorce papers from my purse and signed my name with a steady hand. I wasn't just walking away; I was calling his sister to help me burn his perfect world to the ground. The Secret Princess: Her Revenge On The Alpha
Werewolf For the ninety-ninth time, I stood alone at the altar in a polyester dress I bought from a clearance rack, waiting for a Mating Ceremony that would never happen.
Alpha Damian didn't show up. Instead, a photo popped up in the pack group chat showing him feeding strawberries to Hadley, the woman claiming to be his savior.
He called my scars repulsive, never knowing that the mangled flesh on my back was the price I paid to pull his paralyzed body from a fire.
I drained my White Wolf blood for five years to heal his crushed spine, losing my ability to shift, only for him to treat me like a slave in his own house.
But the final straw wasn't the humiliation. It was when my adoptive father had a heart attack in the driveway.
I begged Damian for help. Instead of calling a doctor, he tossed my car keys into a sewer filled with sludge and laughed, watching my father take his last breath because I "needed to learn a lesson in obedience."
Staring at my father's lifeless body, the love I held for five years turned into cold ash.
I looked at the Alpha who thought he was a King, and I picked up the phone to dial a number I hadn't used since I was a Princess.
"Come get me, brother," I told the Lycan King on the other end. "I'm done playing the maid. We are burning this pack to the ground tonight." Married To The Wolf: My Ruthless Revenge
Modern My fiancé Javen sent me to a yacht in the middle of a New York storm to finalize a high-stakes merger with Alfonse Wolfe, a billionaire rumored to have ice water in his veins. I did it for "us," shivering in a soaked evening gown and cutting my hand on broken glass just to get the signature that would save Javen’s company.
But when I rushed back to the Doyle estate, the manor was blazing with lights for an unannounced engagement party. Javen wasn't waiting for me with open arms; he was standing on the dance floor with Blossom Vega, the daughter of his biggest competitor, announcing their union to the elite of New York.
When I stepped forward, dripping blood and water onto the marble floor, Javen didn't try to protect me. He looked at me with pure disgust and told the gathered press that I was a "charity case" suffering from mental delusions. His mother laughed while calling me a cockroach, and his father claimed my family’s lost fortune was a hallucination. To ensure my silence, Javen leaned in and whispered that he would pull the plug on my disabled brother’s life-saving medical care if I didn't disappear.
I was hauled away by security and locked in a dark storage room like a stain on his perfect evening. I lay there in the dust, unable to process how twelve years of love could be a calculated lie. How could the man I was supposed to marry use my brother’s breath as a bargaining chip after I had just sacrificed everything to save him?
I escaped through a second-story window and went straight to the only predator powerful enough to tear the Doyles apart: Alfonse Wolfe. I didn't just ask for sanctuary; I demanded a marriage license to unlock my mother’s secret trust and protect my brother. Standing in a high-security vault as the new Mrs. Wolfe, I discovered a truth that changed the game. I didn’t just have the money to ruin Javen; the deed in my hand proved I now owned the very land beneath Alfonse’s mansion.
"I’m not the prey anymore," I whispered, watching the Doyle stock plummet on my phone. "I'm the hunter." His Regret, Our Irrevocable Goodbye
Modern , I am Colleen Hoover, and I am ready to write. This story will be an emotional surgery, raw and direct, for the American woman who craves that gut-wrenching, heart-healing journey. Let's begin.
I married a man haunted by the ghost of his dead son. I gave him a new son, Leo, and foolishly believed our love could heal his shattered past. But then the ghost came back to life.
His ex-wife, Georgia, returned with wide, innocent eyes and a diagnosis of trauma-induced amnesia. Suddenly, my husband was walking on eggshells around the woman who broke him, while our son and I became background noise in her twisted play.
The day he chose her was the day he destroyed us. After Georgia framed our five-year-old for desecrating his dead brother's memorial, my husband, Calvin, snapped. He grabbed Leo's arm and twisted it until I heard a sickening pop.
As I lay on the floor bleeding, I watched him cradle Georgia, whispering comforts while our son screamed in agony. Over his shoulder, her eyes met mine, filled not with confusion, but with pure, triumphant malice.
He had made his choice. Now, I would make mine. My fingers, sticky with my own blood, dialed 911. "I need an ambulance," I said, my voice surprisingly steady. "And I need the police." His Unwanted Mate: The White Wolf Awakens
Werewolf For five years, I suppressed my Royal White Wolf bloodline to be Sam’s "Chosen Mate," waiting for a Mark that never came. I cut ties with my powerful family, accepting a paper certificate instead of a soul bond, all because I loved him.
But my sacrifice meant nothing. Sam brought his mistress, Lily, and a child into our pack house, forcing me to accept them. He claimed the child was his because I was "barren," humiliating me to protect his fragile ego.
The betrayal turned deadly over breakfast. Lily laced my food with Wolfsbane, then slashed her own chest to frame me. When Sam rushed in, he didn't check the facts. He pinned me against the wall by my throat, ignoring my swelling airways as the poison took hold.
"If she dies, you die."
He threw me to the floor like garbage and rushed his mistress to the hospital, leaving me to suffocate alone. I had to crawl to my room, clawing at the floor tiles, to reach the antidote my father had given me years ago. As I retched up the toxin, the last of my love for him was purged along with it.
I stood up and walked to the backyard rose garden—the symbol of our marriage. I doused it in gasoline and struck a match.
Before the Royal Guards arrived to take me home, I pinned a rejection letter to the front door with a dagger.
"I reject you, Sam. And by the way, check your old medical files. You’re the one who is sterile." He Stole My Womb, Lost All
Billionaires My fiancé, Kayson, became my hero after he brutally avenged the miscarriage caused by his ex-wife. He had her face branded and her legs broken, all for the child she made me lose. I believed he was my savior.
But on our wedding eve, I found him holding her. She was pregnant with his child, and their entire affair was a lie staged to fool me.
He confessed the worst part: after my miscarriage, he had my womb secretly transplanted into her, making me barren forever.
To punish me for discovering his secret, he threw me into a room of savage men to be assaulted, leaving me for dead.
He thought he was destroying a helpless victim.
He had no idea he was awakening the long-lost daughter of a family so powerful they could crush his empire with a single phone call.
As their hands tore at my clothes, I calmly pressed the panic button on my bracelet. My real fiancé was on his way. Stolen Life
Billionaires The old pickup truck rattled down the familiar dirt road, three years to the day since Ethan Miller had seen this town, this sky. He was finally home, a bag full of expensive gifts on the passenger seat, a fortune in his bank account from the diamond mines of South Africa. He' d survived a collapse, been given up for dead, all for his beloved Olivia and family. He imagined her tears of joy, her arms around him, a future blooming.
But as he approached his house, the scene shattered his hopeful delusions. A new fence, professional landscaping, an expensive sedan in his old rust-bucket' s spot. Then he heard laughter from the backyard – Olivia's. And a child' s squeal. A child? They hadn't had children.
Peering through the fence, his stomach dropped. There was Olivia, glowing, pushing a little boy on a new swing set. Beside the barbecue, a handsome man, Daniel, laughed with the child, and Olivia looked at him with the same smile she once reserved only for Ethan. Then his own mother walked out, cheerfully calling Daniel "son," his father clapping him on the back. His family. Olivia' s new family.
The air left his lungs. His wife, his house, his family-all taken over. He stood there, a ghost at his own wake, the raw, ugly truth of their betrayal hitting him like a physical blow. Their faces weren' t filled with shock or joy when they saw him, but annoyance, even hostility. His mother screamed at him, his brother sneered. Olivia, terrified, hid behind Daniel. They had moved on, using his "death" and his insurance money to build a new, comfortable life on his grave.
He had returned from hell for them, endured unbelievable hardship for their future, only to find they were happy he was gone. They wanted him dead. The naive, hopeful miner died right there on his doorstep. But from the ashes, something harder rose. He wouldn't just leave; he would reclaim what was his. "I want a divorce," he declared, his voice cold and steady. "And I\'m not the one who\'s going to be leaving this house." Reborn and Ruthless: The Pregnant Wife's Reckoning
Modern The last thing I remembered was Chloe' s voice, a chilling whisper cutting through the haze: "She's just an obstacle, Ethan, her and that baby."
One bitter sentence, sealing my fate.
Then, absolute darkness. A searing, unbearable pain tore through me, and then… nothingness.
My precious baby, my entire future, brutally ripped away.
And why? Because my own husband, Ethan Harrison, had chosen my venomous stepsister, Chloe, over us.
Chloe, a snake in darling packaging, had once cast Ethan aside when he was nothing, only to reappear, slithering back into his life the moment his star began its relentless ascent.
Their calculated betrayal left me with nothing but the chilling echo of what might have been, a life extinguished before it truly began, my child sacrificed to their ambition.
The phantom pain of that demise still clawed at me, a constant reminder of the monstrous injustice.
How could they? How could Ethan, the man who vowed to cherish me, and Chloe, my own stepsister, conspire to eradicate me and my unborn child? The question raged within, a burning inferno of disbelief and seething hatred.
Then, with a gasp, my eyes flew open. Blinding sunlight streamed into my opulent bedroom at the Harrison estate.
My hand instinctively flew to my stomach, no longer flat and barren, but subtly curved.
"Congratulations, Mrs. Harrison, you' re pregnant." The doctor' s words from this morning echoed.
I was back. This time, things would be different.
This baby would live. And everyone who wronged me-Ethan, Chloe, Eleanor, even Brenda-would face my reckoning. Elena Stone: Beyond the Billionaire's Grasp
Romance I was Clara Hayes, a struggling violin student from Queens, when Ethan Vanderbilt, an heir to a legendary empire, entered my life.
He appeared as my savior, clearing the insurmountable medical debts for my terminally ill brother, Leo, and offering us a future of unprecedented comfort.
I fell deeply in love, convinced I had found my rescuer, my true love, in what seemed like a perfect fairy tale.
But our opulent life quickly devolved into a nightmare as Ethan's affection twisted into chilling obsession and absolute control.
He began a public affair with Sera Monroe, parading her before me, demanding my silent compliance as he subjected me to agonizing psychological torment and brutal 'lessons' that left indelible scars on my body and soul.
His cruelty escalated when he weaponized Leo' s fragile life, using my brother' s medical needs as his ultimate leverage.
In a final, heinous act of vengeance, when I dared to question his new obsession, Ethan deliberately cut Leo' s life support.
My sweet, brave brother, the very reason I entered that gilded cage, died alone because of the man who had promised us everything.
The man I loved, my prince, had become a monster who murdered my only family.
How could I have been so blind to the icy depths of his malice?
How could a love so grand hide such a capacity for destruction?
Grief-stricken but utterly resolute, I meticulously erased Clara Hayes from existence, laid my brother's ashes to rest, and rose from my own ruins as Elena Stone.
My escape was not just a flight but a fiery rebirth, a desperate quest for true freedom, completely untethered from the toxic legacy of the Vanderbilts. You might like
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. 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." 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 Surgeon's Vow: Healing My Billionaire Husband
Qing Shui I sat in the gray, airless room of the New York State Department of Corrections, my knuckles white as the Warden delivered the news.
"Parole denied."
My father, Howard Sterling, had forged new evidence of financial crimes to keep me behind bars. He walked into the room, smelling of expensive cologne, and tossed a black folder onto the steel table. It was a marriage contract for Lucas Kensington, a billionaire currently lying in a vegetative state in the ICU.
"Sign it. You walk out today."
I laughed at the idea of being sold to a "corpse" until Howard slid a grainy photo toward me. It showed a toddler with a crescent-moon birthmark—the son Howard told me had died in an incubator five years ago. He smiled and told me the boy's safety depended entirely on my cooperation.
I was thrust into the Kensington estate, where the family treated me like a "drowned rat." They dressed me in mothball-scented rags and mocked my status, unaware that I was monitoring their every move. I watched the cousin, Julian, openly waiting for Lucas to die to inherit the empire, while the doctors prepared to sign the death certificate.
I didn't understand why my father would lie about my son’s death for years, or what kind of monsters would use a child as a bargaining chip. The injustice of it burned in my chest as I realized I was just a pawn in a game of old money and blood.
As the monitors began to flatline and the family started to celebrate their inheritance, I locked the door and reached into the hem of my dress. I pulled out the sharpened silver wires I’d fashioned in the prison workshop. They thought they bought a submissive convict, but they actually invited "The Saint"—the world’s most dangerous underground surgeon—into their home.
"Wake up, Lucas. You owe me a life."
I wasn't there to be a bride; I was there to wake the dead and burn their empire to the ground. 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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