Call Me Cutie
15 Published Stories
Call Me Cutie's Books and Stories
I Was Kidnapped, He Married His First Love
Romance When the kidnapper pressed a tactical knife to Falon's throat and demanded a one-million-dollar ransom, she was certain her fiancé would pay.
Instead, Jerod's annoyed voice echoed through the speaker. He was busy cutting a cake with his fragile, manipulative mistress, Abby.
"Do whatever you want with her," Jerod told the thug. "I am done."
The call disconnected. Left to die, Falon was injected with a lethal black-market aphrodisiac. She fought her way out, escaping into the freezing rain, and threw herself at the mercy of a stranger in a black Maybach. That stranger was Bell Farrell, a ruthless billionaire and Jerod's biggest corporate rival. To survive the burning drug and shatter the memories of her fiancé's betrayal, she gave herself to the devil that night.
The next morning, Falon woke up in a stranger's bed, staring at her bruised skin. For four years, she had endured her abusive family's cruelty, watching them treat her fake, adopted sister like a princess while using Falon as a corporate pawn. She had compromised everything for Jerod, only to be thrown away like garbage.
Why did she have to suffer while the people who destroyed her played the victims?
Falon took off her five-carat engagement ring and threw it in the trash.
She put on a sharp black suit and crashed her family's elite ballroom gala, ready to burn their high-society facade to the ground. The Villainess Stepmother's Ruthless New Life
Modern I woke up with a splitting headache and a pinstriped lawyer shoving a contract in my face, demanding I sign away my rights to the Sterling estate. My husband, the billionaire Arthur Sterling, had been missing for three months after a plane crash, and everyone assumed he was dead.
The lawyer sneered, threatening to leak compromising photos of my "shopping trips" if I didn't accept a measly fifty-thousand-dollar settlement. That was when the horrifying reality hit me: I had transmigrated into the body of Gloria Peck, the gold-digging villainess of the novel *The Sterling Legacy*.
In the original story, I signed the papers, abandoned Arthur's children, and ended up frozen to death on a park bench after the family's eldest son, Jones, grew up to destroy me. But my current reality was even more desperate-I discovered I had five million dollars in gambling debts and debt collectors who didn't take "no" for an answer.
Signing that paper wasn't a fresh start; it was a death sentence. Jones, Arthur's fourteen-year-old son, sat in the corner of the office, watching me with a hatred so cold it felt like a physical weight on my skin.
I realized that if I followed the script, I would die. If I played the victim, I would die. I was trapped between a predatory legal team, a vengeful stepson, and a mountain of debt that fifty thousand dollars couldn't even begin to touch.
How could I survive in a world where I was the most hated woman in the city, with a bank account that held exactly five hundred dollars and a target on my back?
I didn't pick up the pen to sign. Instead, I slammed it into the mahogany table, piercing the heart of the agreement.
"This contract is garbage," I told the stunned lawyer.
Just as I prepared to fight for my life, the office door swung open, and Arthur Sterling-the man the world thought was dead-walked back into his empire, his eyes locking onto mine with terrifying intensity. The script was officially broken, and I was just getting started. His Betrayal, My Beautiful Rebirth
Modern I was the secret girlfriend of rising political star Kellen Jefferson, and the sacrifice he made thirty-eight times to appease his manipulative sister, Cherrelle.
Her cruelty escalated from ruining my career to pushing me off a stage, breaking my wrist. Kellen covered it up.
He chose her again when she pushed me down a flight of stairs, covering up the attempted murder. He chose her when he publicly kissed her after she framed me for stalking.
But the moment that truly killed my love was when I was abducted. I called him, begging for help. He never answered.
Later, I saw the video: he watched my call come in and, at his sister' s urging, let it go to voicemail. He abandoned me to die.
After escaping with my life, I disappeared.
Two years later, he saw my face on the cover of a magazine-a celebrated artist with a new life and a new love. And he finally understood what he had lost. Love's Shadow, A Billionaire's Tears
Mafia He broke my heart ninety-nine times, but it was the last one that finally killed my love for him.
At his family's party, his new girl theatrically stumbled, pulling us both into the pool. My heavy gown dragged me down, and I gasped for air, reaching for him.
But he shoved right past me. He saved her.
Through the chlorinated water, I heard his voice, sharp and clear for everyone to hear. "Your life is no longer my problem."
The world went silent. My love for him died in that pool.
But the final humiliation came a week later, at a high-stakes poker game. He kissed her in front of everyone, a brutal, public execution of my worth.
Then he looked straight at me, his voice booming across the silent room. "She's a much better kisser than you ever were."
Later that night, I overheard him talking to his second-in-command. "I'll keep her around long enough to make Ellie jealous. Give it a few weeks. She'll come crawling back, begging me to take her back. She always does."
My love, my pain, my heartbreak—it was all just a game to him.
So I didn't cry. I didn't scream. I went home, opened my laptop, and applied to a university in New York. This wasn't a threat. This was a burial. My Fairytale Was A Cruel Lie
Young Adult I was the scholarship kid at Westbrook University, dating the star quarterback, Gage Barton. Everyone on campus thought I was living a fairytale, the brilliant girl from the wrong side of the tracks who had captured the prince's heart. My roommate, Cayden, was my best friend, the one I trusted with all my secrets.
But my fairytale was a lie. My prince was a cruel narcissist who saw me as his pet project, and my best friend was a snake who secretly slept with him, seething with jealousy over everything I had earned.
Their betrayal culminated in an act of pure evil. Using my own laptop, Cayden permanently deleted my entire thesis-one hundred and twelve pages of research that represented my only ticket out of their world. My future was gone in a single click.
When I confronted them, they laughed. "It's just a stupid paper," Gage sneered, accusing me of deleting it myself to save face. They stood together, a united front of privilege and cruelty, believing they had finally broken me.
But they were wrong. I calmly walked over to Cayden's desk, where her own laptop was open, her final project displayed on the screen. Next to it sat a full glass of water. I picked it up and poured it directly onto the keyboard.
The screen sparked, then went black.
As she shrieked in horror, I repeated his words back to her, my voice cold as ice. "It's just a stupid project. Why are you making such a big drama out of it?" Reborn Without Sarah
Romance My wife, Sarah, always had a radiant smile, bright and flawless, just like the diamond necklace she wore. Everyone at the party, celebrating the pinnacle of my architectural career, saw us as the perfect couple, living in a stunning penthouse. But beneath the facade, a chilling rot was eating away at our foundation.
Two weeks ago, hunting for a charging cable in Sarah' s car, I stumbled upon a burner phone. It lit up, revealing not just flirtatious texts, but explicit photos and mocking conversations between my beautiful wife and my ambitious mentee, Alex. They called me "The Old Man," a relic to be managed.
The discovery was a physical blow, turning my decade-long marriage into a carefully constructed lie. Every shared glance, every subtle touch between them became a dagger. I saw Alex meticulously undermining me, charming clients, systematically taking over not just my marriage, but my entire company. The pain of betrayal was excruciating, but the calm that settled over me was even more terrifying.
How could I have been so blind? How could the woman I built a life for, the man I trusted like a brother, conspire so intricately against me? The architect in me, trained to see structures and systems, knew one thing: this wasn't just an affair; it was a planned takeover.
So, I gripped the cold metal railing of my penthouse balcony, the city lights blurring below. I wouldn't just leave. They wouldn't find me. I would disappear completely, to die and be reborn as someone else, someone who didn't remember the name Sarah. And my final design would be my escape. His Unwanted Wife, Her Unspoken Sacrifice
Sci-fi The morning after my wedding, I found myself in a cold interrogation room.
My beautiful white dress was gone, replaced by a gray jumpsuit that felt rough and alien.
My new husband, Ethan, looked at me like I was a monster, shattering the dream we'd built.
They accused me of murdering his entire family at our wedding brunch, a twisted nightmare beyond comprehension.
I knew the truth, but I couldn't speak, bound by a terrible secret that protected him.
But then, Ethan strapped me to a terrifying memory-reading machine, broadcasting my deepest secrets to the world.
He believed it would expose my guilt, confirming the monstrous betrayal he saw in me.
He didn't know it would rip open a decade of manipulation and unveil the real killer, destroying the very foundations of his life.
He demanded the truth, but what if the truth was far more horrific than any lie? The Game She Played
Fantasy The doctor's words echoed, a distant hum, yet crystal clear: "Congratulations, Mrs. Prescott, you're pregnant!" My husband Ethan beamed beside me, his grip on my hand tightening, a wide, genuine smile lighting his face – the kind of pure joy I hadn't seen in far too long. He pulled me into a hug, his voice booming with happiness that filled the sterile room.
But a cold dread pierced me, deeper than any clinic air conditioning. This exact moment. I remembered it.
In my last life, this pregnancy, this supposed joy, became the very weapon they used against me. Chloe, Ethan's first choice, the woman he was supposed to marry, had returned. She feigned concern, using her 'wellness expertise' facade to get close. She then whispered poison in Ethan' s ear, painting me as a burden, before orchestrating my 'accident' – a fall that led to the tragic loss of my child, and soon after, my own broken, wasted death. I could still hear Chloe's voice, soft and venomous, as I lay bleeding: "You were always beneath us, Ava. Just in the way."
That memory burned, a raw wound in my soul. The sheer injustice of their cruelty, the depths of their betrayal, still sent ice through my veins. How could I have been so naive, so easily discarded? The confusion, the despair from that past life resurfaced, potent and suffocating.
But this time, I was ready. The knowledge wasn't a shroud, but a shield. I blinked, forcing a fragile smile. My new goal was clear, etched in the pain of my past: survive, protect my child, and utterly destroy them. His Thoughts, Her Weapon
Young Adult The familiar AP Computer Science lab hummed, a painful reminder of last year's public humiliation.
My innovative app, once celebrated, shockingly showed abysmal results, while my boyfriend Ethan and Brittany unveiled an identical project, claiming victory.
My mentor' s disbelief, the principal' s shame, and my parents' crushing humiliation broke me.
Accused of fabrication, I spiraled into a dark, isolating breakdown.
Now, back in the lab for senior year, the wound still fresh, Ethan sat beside me, his voice a disarming lull.
Then, a thought, loud and sickeningly clear, echoed in my mind: "Keep coding, Maya! Every line brings me and Brittany closer to that MIT scholarship! Haha!"
My blood froze; this wasn't clairvoyance, but a chilling memory of his internal monologue, played just for me.
My dream, stolen by them, confirmed by his own mind - how was this possible?
The origin of this bizarre ability didn't matter; knowing the truth, I suddenly had a second chance.
They' d made their move, but they had no idea who they were truly dealing with this time. The Heiress Who Rose From The Ashes
Romance I loved Blake Vanderbilt with everything I had.
He was my world, and when he told me about his rare, career-ending nerve condition, my heart truly shattered.
The experimental treatment was $80,000, a fortune for a struggling songwriter like me, but I would do anything.
So, I sold my father's most treasured possession, a vintage 1959 Gibson Les Paul, the last piece I had of him.
Handing over that guitar felt like losing a piece of my soul, but it was for Blake, for us, for our music.
Days later, bringing him cookies at his upscale clinic, I overheard voices from a half-open door.
"Can you believe she actually sold it?" Chloe Astor's mocking laugh cut through me.
Then Blake's voice, clear and strong, "Eighty grand, straight into my account. Paid for this lovely clinic visit, and Chloe's new demo."
My blood ran cold.
They had laughed about my sacrifice, my tears, and planned to play a video of my heartbreak at a party – my birthday party.
The cookies clattered to the floor, my world crumbling around me.
He was healthy, radiant, and everything had been a lie.
The betrayal knocked the air from my lungs.
How could someone I loved so deeply be so monstrously cruel?
Weeks later, after being publicly humiliated and assaulted by Chloe's friends, waking up in a hospital bed with stitches in my head, I received a cryptic text.
It was from a lawyer, informing me that my long-lost grandfather, a legendary music mogul, had just passed away.
And he'd left his entire multi-million dollar estate to me. The Sterling Legacy: Toy's Love, Lily's Voice
Billionaires My older sister just married a rich man, Jim Sterling.
I’m an 8-year-old girl who can’t speak, suddenly flung into a world of grand mansions and glittering parties.
But this supposed fairytale quickly turned into a profound nightmare.
Adults whispered "charity case" behind my back.
Girls at school sneered "mute freak," and one even tried to exploit my stepfather’s generosity for her own father’s business.
My new step-grandmother, Marian, saw me as nothing but an obstacle, actively plotting to drive my sister and me away.
She even manipulated my biological father, a terrifying ghost from my darkest past, into a chilling encounter, hoping to prove I was "unsuitable" for this new life.
Why did everyone see my silence as a weakness, a flaw?
Why was the cruelty so relentless?
My voicelessness had always made me a target, and now the malicious whispers threatened to drown me entirely.
But then, an unexpected truth began to emerge.
My stepfather, Jim, stood firm as my unwavering protector, publicly claiming me as his daughter and establishing a trust fund in my name.
My step-siblings, initially distant, slowly began to rally around me.
And the terrifying plot orchestrated by Marian was exposed by Jim's relentless investigation.
Would I remain a silent victim, forever defined by my past trauma and the cruel words of others?
Or could I, the 'mute freak,' finally find my voice, not just in whispers, but in a roar that would redefine my future and claim my true place in this world? The Man Who Valued Money Over Life
Romance For seven years, I was with Blake, my ambitious Silicon Valley boyfriend. He told me he was building a dream, always "testing" my independence to prove I was with him for love, not money. I believed him, working tirelessly to pay my equal share.
Then, my mom got critically ill, needing a $2000 scan so urgent it couldn't wait for insurance. I begged Blake for a loan, promising to pay him back, stressing it was a matter of life and death. He coldly refused, hid behind his "principles," and dismissed my desperation as a "test" of my resilience.
Three agonizing days later, my mother died.
Amidst my grief, a sickening truth began to unravel. Blake wasn't a struggling founder; he was a silent multi-millionaire, secretly lavishing gifts worth hundreds of thousands on another woman. I found texts where he mocked me to his friends, calling my plea a "handout" and my situation "desperate."
How could the man I loved and supported for seven years be so monstrous? How could he let my mother die over $2000 he casually spent on jewelry? The betrayal sliced deeper than any knife.
But the final twist was the cruelest: Blake secretly owned the coffee shop where I worked for minimum wage. Not only that, he had been systematically diverting my earned bonuses—including a $2000 payment right when I needed it—into his own private account. The money I had *earned* for my mom’s life, he had stolen. That day, my grief turned into an ice-cold rage, and I knew exactly what I had to do. The Voiceless Victim's Vengeance
Modern My life was a symphony, building to a crescendo with the "Tomorrow's Country Star" finale.
I was Emily Carter, a singer-songwriter on the cusp of realizing my dreams, my heart entwined with Jake Myers, a music producer, and the creative force behind my most personal work, "Heartland Echoes."
Then, in a shocking betrayal that ripped my world apart, Jake, along with his 'college sweetheart' Brittany Sloane, presented *my* masterpiece as hers on national television.
The internet screamed "Plagiarist!" and "Fraud!" as my reputation crumbled to ashes.
The public crucifixion that followed was a living nightmare; the shame coiled around me until I couldn't breathe.
My parents, heartbroken and broken by the endless harassment directed at me, withered away, leaving me utterly alone before I, too, succumbed to the despair and the dark.
From that desolate void, I was forced to watch my betrayers prosper.
Jake and Brittany thrived, building their careers on the bones of my tragedy, even laughing about "Emily Who?" in the privacy of a hot mic.
To be reduced to a meme, to die knowing they got away with it, to watch them celebrate their sordid triumph – the injustice was an acid in my soul, fueling a rage beyond measure.
But fate, it seemed, wasn't done with me yet.
One blinding moment, I was back, returned to the critical juncture before my public downfall, grasping a second chance, and armed with a terrible knowledge: a medical diagnosis that, in my previous life, had seemed a curse, but was now the key to my twisted opportunity.
This time, I would sacrifice my voice for vengeance, and the narrative would be entirely mine. His First Love, My Son's Grave
Fantasy For years, I, an Apache Spirit Guide, brought blessings to the Maxwell ranch, transforming its barren soil into fertile land through ancient ways.
My marriage to Ethan had sealed a sacred pact, and our son, Kay, was a vibrant symbol of this union, his laughter echoing through the canyons.
Then, Sophia Kincaid, Ethan’s past love, reappeared.
She claimed to be pregnant with his child and, manipulated by a shady psychic, demanded Kay’s sacred turquoise amulet—a protection blessed by my elders—to ensure her baby’s “destiny.”
Ethan, blinded by Sophia’s charm, violently ripped the amulet from our five-year-old son’s neck.
Kay died that night, bleeding and gasping in my arms, while Ethan, oblivious to his son's violent pineapple allergy, entertained Sophia.
My grief was absolute, yet for him, it was merely an inconvenience.
Publicly humiliated, forced to drink a vile potion stealing my fertility, my hands brutally broken by Ethan himself, I wondered: how could the man I loved, the father of my child, descend into such monstrous cruelty?
Lying broken and bleeding in the dust, the man I married abandoned me.
But as darkness threatened to consume me, my ancestors whispered, igniting a new fire within.
Now, I, Wind Walker, have returned to my people, ready to embrace my true power and witness the Maxwell legacy crumble, just as Ethan’s soul did. You might like
Shielded By The Ruthless Military Boss
Mo Yufei I was an intern nurse working exhausting shifts, yet my mother constantly forced me into blind dates with wealthy, arrogant men to secure our family's social standing.
During a terrifying hospital lockdown, an assassin disguised as a doctor held a scalpel to my throat. I was almost killed, but a high-ranking military colonel threw his own body down a flight of concrete stairs to shield me.
I survived with cuts and bruises, but when I went home, my mother didn't care about my near-death experience. She was only furious that I had rushed out on my blind date with Preston, a rich financial analyst.
She forced me to meet him to apologize. When Preston grabbed my arm, bruised me, and mocked my attack as a pathetic lie, my mother still took his side.
"Men get angry," she told me coldly. "It's your job not to provoke them. You will beg for his forgiveness, or you are no longer welcome in this house."
I had narrowly escaped an assassin, yet my own family was willing to feed me to a monster just for a fat paycheck and neighborhood gossip.
My heart went completely dead.
So, when the intimidating Colonel appeared, offering me maximum military protection through a sudden marriage, I didn't hesitate.
I walked back into my parents' house and calmly slapped a crisp marriage certificate onto the coffee table.
"I won't be apologizing to Preston. I got married today." Flash Marriage To My Best Friend's Father
Madel Cerda I was once the heiress to the Solomon empire, but after it crumbled, I became the "charity case" ward of the wealthy Hyde family. For years, I lived in their shadows, clinging to the promise that Anson Hyde would always be my protector.
That promise shattered when Anson walked into the ballroom with Claudine Chapman on his arm. Claudine was the girl who had spent years making my life a living hell, and now Anson was announcing their engagement to the world.
The humiliation was instant. Guests sneered at my cheap dress, and a waiter intentionally sloshed champagne over me, knowing I was a nobody. Anson didn't even look my way; he was too busy whispering possessively to his new fiancée. I was a ghost in my own home, watching my protector celebrate with my tormentor.
The betrayal burned. I realized I wasn't a ward; I was a pawn Anson had kept on a shelf until he found a better trade. I had no money, no allies, and a legal trust fund that Anson controlled with a flick of his wrist.
Fleeing to the library, I stumbled into Dallas Koch-a titan of industry and my best friend's father. He was a wall of cold, absolute power that even the Hydes feared.
"Marry me," I blurted out, desperate to find a shield Anson couldn't climb.
Dallas didn't laugh. He pulled out a marriage agreement and a heavy fountain pen.
"Sign," he commanded, his voice a low rumble. "But if you walk out that door with me, you never go back."
I signed my name, trading my life for the only man dangerous enough to keep me safe. The Neglected Wife's Vicious Comeback Game
Xiu Luo On our third anniversary, my husband canceled our dinner, claiming a sudden work emergency.
I tracked his phone to an exclusive French restaurant, only to find him tenderly fastening a blessed bracelet—one I had flown across the world to get for him—onto his college ex-girlfriend's wrist.
The sheer shock triggered a violent placental abruption. Bleeding out in my car just across the street, I frantically called his number. Through the window, I watched him glance at his screen, frown in annoyance, and press decline to focus on his lover. While I was wheeled into a freezing operating room for an emergency C-section utterly alone, he took his mistress back to our marital bed.
He didn't even bother to check if I was alive, completely oblivious that our premature daughter was fighting for her life in the NICU. I soon discovered our entire marriage was a sham. He had used my family's wealth to save his company, and now he was trading me to secure a massive business deal with his ex's father. The man I loved didn't exist; he only saw me as a disposable asset.
"I'm going to make him wish he had never been born."
After secretly securing my baby in a private retreat, I ordered a medical-grade silicone pregnancy belly to hide my flat stomach. I stepped back into our penthouse, ready to burn his precious empire to the ground. 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. His Unwanted Wife Is A Tech Genius
Elroy Notman For three years, Cali Sullivan abandoned her brilliant tech career to be the quiet, accommodating wife of billionaire Halsey Donovan.
But on her thirtieth birthday, she returned to their London mansion only to find it empty. The housekeeper, looking at her with deep pity, revealed that Halsey had taken his female friend, Brittaney, out shopping to celebrate her birthday instead.
He had even taken their young daughter, Lily, with them. When Cali called him, Halsey coldly dismissed her, his attention entirely on Brittaney's bright laughter in the background. The crushing blow came the next morning when Cali stood outside Lily's bedroom and overheard her own daughter's innocent wish.
"I wish Auntie Brittaney could be my new mommy. I think Daddy would like that, too."
Later that afternoon, Cali saw them through the window of a private club. Halsey was wiping a smudge from Lily's face with a tender focus he never showed his wife, while Brittaney casually fed him cake. They looked like the perfect, happy family. All of Cali's desperate love and sacrifices felt like a cruel joke. She had been entirely erased from her own family.
In that moment, the agonizing pain just stopped, replaced by a cold, absolute clarity. Cali drafted a divorce agreement waiving every cent of his wealth, left her platinum wedding rings on the nightstand, and booked a one-way flight back to New York. She was no longer Mrs. Donovan; it was time to get her real name back. One Night With My Billionaire Boss
Nathaniel Stone I woke up on silk sheets that smelled of expensive cedar and cold sandalwood, a world away from my cramped apartment in Brooklyn.
Beside me lay Ezra Gardner-my boss, the billionaire CEO of Gardner Holdings, and the man who could end my career with a snap of his fingers.
He didn't offer an apology for the night before; instead, he looked at me with terrifying clarity and proposed a cold, calculated business arrangement.
"Marriage. It stabilizes the board and solves the PR crisis before it begins."
He dressed me in archival Chanel and sent me home in his Maybach, but my life was already falling apart. My boyfriend, Irving, claimed he had passed out early, yet his location data placed him at my best friend's apartment until three in the morning. When I tried to run, I realized Ezra was already ten steps ahead, tracking my movements and uncovering the secret I'd spent twenty years hiding: my connection to the powerful Senator Grimes.
I was trapped between a CEO who treated me like a line item on a quarterly report and a boyfriend who had been using me while sleeping with my closest friend. I felt like a pawn in a game I didn't understand, wondering why a man like Ezra would walk up forty flights of stairs on a broken leg just to make sure I was safe.
"Showtime, Mrs. Gardner."
Standing on the red carpet in a gown that cost more than my life, I watched my cheating ex-boyfriend's face turn pale as Ezra claimed me in front of the world. I wasn't just an assistant anymore; I was a weapon, and it was time to burn their world down. Too Late, Mr. CEO: Watch Me Shine
Nieves Gómez Kayla stood outside the CEO suite, holding a custom suit for her fiancé, Brennon. They had spent seven years building a tech company from a freezing garage into a billion-dollar empire.
But through the cracked door, she heard the breathy laugh of Evelin, the newly hired director. Then came Brennon's low, careless voice.
"The wedding's a PR milestone for the IPO, nothing more."
Kayla's blood turned to ice.
"She's comfortable. Makes sense on paper," Brennon continued. "But you, Evelin. You understand ambition."
The betrayal hit her like a physical blow. She had written the core code that made him a billionaire. She had stayed up until 4 AM debugging while he slept on a futon. Now, he was mocking their relationship to his mistress and handing over her life's work to a woman who couldn't even read a data log.
Seven years of loyalty, reduced to a PR stunt. She didn't cry. Instead, a cold, violent clarity washed over her. Why should she let him keep the crown she forged?
Without a word, she pulled the three-carat diamond off her finger and dropped it into her bag. She walked out of the building, drafted her resignation, and accepted a VP position at his biggest Wall Street rival. It was time to show Brennon what happened when the real genius behind his empire decided to tear it down. The Runaway Wife: Escaping His Gilded Cage
Jing Buhui Ava had been married to Wall Street titan Damian Carlisle for three years, an orphan chosen by his late grandmother solely to provide an heir.
But at the matriarch's funeral, Damian stood intimately before the flashing cameras with his childhood sweetheart, Isabelle.
The entire elite family deliberately excluded Ava, leaving her standing alone in the shadows.
The guests whispered about how perfect Damian and Isabelle looked together, completely ignoring the actual wife standing right there.
To Damian, Ava was nothing more than a piece of inherited furniture he didn't know where to place.
Realizing she was just a discarded placeholder, Ava quietly left the estate and sent him divorce papers.
But Isabelle secretly intercepted the legal documents to keep Damian in the dark.
Enraged when he finally discovered her escape, Damian tracked Ava down to her shabby Brooklyn rental.
He smashed through her door, physically dragged her out in the middle of the night, and forced her back to the sprawling estate.
He installed new locks on the reinforced windows, pinned her to the bed, and coldly commanded her to fulfill her biological duty.
"You owe this family, Ava. You were given everything, and this is how you will repay that debt."
Trapped in the dark, a chilling despair washed over her as she realized a piece of paper could never free her.
Against his absolute wealth and power, her rights and her tears meant absolutely nothing.
But as her gaze fell on the corporate financial reports she had been secretly analyzing, her fear vanished.
If the law couldn't beat him, she would use the only language he understood.
She would accept the executive position at his rival's firm, dismantle his empire piece by piece, and personally ruin him. Bound By Fate: The CEO's Reborn Bride
Fei Se Chloe Beaumont thought she had a perfect life, until she woke up tied to a metal chair in a freezing warehouse.
A hitman forced her to watch a live stream of a lavish wedding, where the groom was her fiancé, Braden, and the bride was her beloved stepsister, June.
Through the screen, Braden coldly revealed their master plan.
He had never loved Chloe; he only wanted her wealth and connections, while June was always his true prize.
They had framed Chloe for insider trading to destroy her reputation and steal her company for pennies on the dollar.
To add to the ultimate betrayal, June was already pregnant with Braden's child.
"Finish her, and make sure it's clean."
Braden ordered over the phone, claiming her worthless life was their final wedding gift.
As the hitman plunged a knife into her heart, Chloe's despair morphed into pure, all-consuming hatred.
How could the two people she trusted most build a perfect life entirely on top of her grave?
Why had she been so blindly foolish to dismiss all their lies and coincidences as paranoia?
Opening her eyes again, the agonizing pain and the grimy warehouse were completely gone.
She was sitting in a luxurious hotel suite, dressed in expensive silk pajamas.
It was exactly six years in the past, on the morning of her arranged wedding to the feared billionaire Damian Montgomery.
This was the exact day June had tricked her into jilting Damian at the altar to run away with Braden.
This time, Chloe smiled coldly, ready to walk down the aisle and drag her betrayers into an ocean of despair. 
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