Cong Jin
11 Published Stories
Cong Jin's Books and Stories
Claimed By The Exiled Tiger King
Romance The last thing I remembered was the blinding flash of my starship crashing. But instead of a rescue crew, I woke up tied to a wooden post, surrounded by hostile beastmen.
My universal translator kicked in just in time to hear their priestess, Chelsea, declare that I was a cursed demon who ruined their hunt. To save the clan from winter starvation, I was to be burned alive.
The flames were already blistering my legs, and jagged stones hurled by the crowd gashed my forehead. I barely negotiated a three-day reprieve to find them food, venturing into the deadly primeval forest.
I found a massive supply of wild potatoes and even gained the protection of Bronson, a terrifyingly powerful saber-toothed tiger beastman.
But Chelsea wouldn't stop.
She labeled my food as poisonous, tried to sentence me to starve in a penitent's cave, and when my agricultural knowledge proved her wrong, she invoked an ancient law. She incited the tribe's savage warriors to fight over me, turning me into breeding property.
I was a scientist offering them endless food, yet their primitive ignorance and one woman's vicious jealousy kept pushing me toward a brutal end. I was terrified, completely powerless against their monstrous physical strength.
As five ruthless challengers drew their bone axes to claim me, I begged Bronson to leave me and run.
Instead, he pulled me against his scarred chest and kissed me fiercely in front of the entire clan.
"She is my mate," he roared, unleashing a soul-crushing aura. "Anyone who wants her, come at me together." The Prosecutor's Wife: A Mother's Fury
Modern My son Leo was in the hospital, his small body covered in bruises after a school bully left him for dead.
But I soon discovered the horrifying truth. My husband, Calvin, a powerful prosecutor, wasn't just ignoring our son's pain-he was actively protecting the bully's mother, his old flame, Bethany.
He used his power to systematically destroy me. He got me fired from my job and had my lawyer drop our case. He planted a fake video online that painted my injured son as a violent aggressor, turning our community into a hateful mob that screamed at us on the street.
In a courtroom packed with jeering strangers, with Calvin himself presiding over my public humiliation, he thought he had me broken. He had sacrificed his own family to protect his mistress and their secrets.
But as he prepared to deliver the final verdict, I rose to my feet, my voice cutting through the silence.
"Your Honor," I said, looking him dead in the eye.
"I want to replace the defendant in this case." When Love Turned To A Living Hell
Modern I worked three jobs to support my paralyzed husband, Gavin, and our developmentally delayed son, Leo. Life was a relentless grind, but I held our shattered family together, even taking in Gavin's infertile, widowed sister, Celeste.
Then, one day, I collapsed from exhaustion at a construction site. My son, Leo, ran to get help, only to be mauled to death by a pack of stray dogs.
At a charity gala weeks later, Celeste, wearing a necklace Gavin once gave me, cornered me. She mocked Leo's death, then brutally kicked me in the stomach, causing internal bleeding that led to an emergency hysterectomy. I could never have children again.
Gavin, however, believed Celeste's lies that I had attacked her. He threw a razor at my head, called me a monster, and left me bleeding on the floor.
When I tried to leave our apartment with Leo's ashes, Gavin and Celeste accused me of cheating. In the struggle, they shattered the urn, scattering my son's remains across the floor. Gavin kicked the ashes, calling them "trash."
But hidden inside Leo's teddy bear, I found a voice recorder. On it was a recording of Gavin and Celeste, their voices clear and strong. They had faked his paralysis, stolen his company's assets, and Celeste had even wished for Leo to be gone. The betrayal was so immense, I collapsed, coughing up blood, as my world went dark one last time. Married to a Monster: My Silent Scream
Billionaires My eight-year marriage to tech mogul James Slater was a secret, a perfect facade of love and devotion. I was a celebrity chef, he was the doting husband, but it was all a beautiful lie.
On our eighth anniversary, James showed me a video: my younger brother, Kelley, tied to a chair, humiliated, being tortured by an "artist" named Kirsten Casey. James called it "performance art," a twisted display of his new muse's "vision."
He dismissed my horror, his staff echoing his words, claiming I "wouldn't understand." He gave me an ultimatum: prove Kirsten's illegality or publicly apologize for slandering her. When I pleaded for Kelley, he offered a million dollars for therapy, his voice flat and final. He said Kirsten was "important" and I wouldn't stand in her way.
The truth was a physical blow. James was Kirsten's patron, her lover, her legal shield. He was using his immense power to protect her cruelty. I was trapped, isolated, my home a cage.
"You're her lawyer? You're helping her do this?" I choked out, my voice raw. He just looked at me, his eyes devoid of love, and said, "Hannah, don't make this difficult."
I signed the papers, desperate to protect Kelley. But it was too late. Kelley jumped. At the hospital, James, the primary benefactor, ordered them not to "waste resources." My brother died. My baby, too, lost in the horror. I was shattered, blaming myself for trusting him. Kidney Betrayal, Love's Cruel Deception
Modern Five years ago, I voluntarily gave my kidney to save my daughter, Lily, believing it was a sacrifice born of a father' s love.
What I received in return was a meticulously orchestrated public humiliation: forced to wear women' s clothing and clown makeup, starring in a viral video that branded me a pervert and destroyed my career and reputation overnight.
My wife, Sophia, and Lily stood by me, their unwavering support the thin thread I clung to, believing their love was real, even as I lived as a social pariah.
But that belief shattered when I overheard Lily and Sophia confessing to their monstrous deception: Lily's illness was a lie, Sophia's "kidnapping" was a sham, and my kidney was meant for my bitter step-brother, Daniel, all part of a calculated plot to ruin me and seize control of my family's firm.
My life was a cruel, elaborate stage play, and I, the fool, had been their unwitting star, leaving me with nothing but the chilling realization that my sacrifice was a mark of betrayal.
I lay in a hospital bed, barely conscious after collapsing from their latest act of public shaming, as Sophia and Daniel plotted to commit me, solidifying their control over my life and what little savings I had left.
The man they thought they' d broken was gone, replaced by a cold, calculating resolve.
I would play their game, let them believe their victory was complete, and then I would disappear.
This was not an escape, but a strategic retreat.
For the first time in five years, I knew exactly what I had to do, and my vengeance would be meticulously planned, far from their reach. Her Betrayal, My Revenge, Our Ruin
Romance The air in the conference room was thick with failure, but I' d checked the system a dozen times-someone had tampered with it.
Then, Sarah, my wife and CEO, her eyes like polished stones, fired me in front of the entire board.
She handed my team, my department, my life' s work, over to Mark, her sniveling assistant who I just realized had sabotaged me.
"You' re fired," she stated, her voice devoid of emotion, as if our years, our dreams, meant nothing.
The humiliation was a physical weight, heavier than the knowledge that this woman, my partner, had just betrayed everything we built.
As she put a comforting hand on Mark' s shoulder, a cold calm settled over me.
She wanted my life' s work? The patented algorithm that powered her entire company?
"Fine," I said, before initiating a full data wipe of every personal file on the company servers.
I left, not with the car she' d called for me, but with one my brother had arranged.
Now, my lawyer says her company is running on stolen tech.
My brother, David, is the lead investor she didn' t even know about, and he' s not happy.
Sarah' s company, built on my genius, is a house of cards.
And I' m about to watch it fall. The Billion-Dollar Intern
Billionaires My boyfriend, Ethan, was sweet, naive, and an intern at my architecture firm.
I, a junior architect buried in student debt, thought we were a team, struggling side-by-side in our expensive Soho loft, building a life together.
Then, I found out our whole life was a lie.
He wasn't a struggling intern; he was Ethan Lester, heir to a real estate empire, my landlord, and the son of my firm's biggest client.
My colleagues, my bosses-they all knew he was playing house.
They watched me mentor him, pay for his things, and fix his mistakes, treating my entire ambition and struggle as office entertainment.
My heart pounded with nausea, but the real punch came when I realized he'd actively sabotaged my promotions to keep me by his side.
How could the man I loved deliberately hold my career hostage, turning my trust into a cruel joke?
My vision blurred with icy resolve.
I picked up the phone.
"Mr. Harrison," I said, my voice steady, "I quit."
This was no longer a game; this was war, and I was just getting started. The Napa Betrayal
Romance My life was perfectly aligned: a positive pregnancy test, a dream wedding in Napa Valley to my fiancé, Andrew, the man I' d loved for seven years. I snapped a photo of those two pink lines, my heart overflowing. This was our future.
But then, stepping into the vineyard, I overheard Andrew confessing a shocking secret: he' d married someone else, his deceased brother' s pregnant girlfriend, Maria, just yesterday. His family insisted, it was for a "Scott heir." My perfect world shattered, the joy in my chest freezing into a lead weight.
My pregnancy, once a beacon of hope, now felt like a burden. In a cold, clear haze, I deleted the photo, deleted our shared future, and scheduled an impossible appointment. The lies kept piling up: Maria showing up at our menu tasting, him escorting her past me at the clinic, her Instagram announcement of "Daddy and I can't wait." His entire family celebrated a new "Scott heir," clearly complicit in his deception.
How could he think I wouldn't find out? How could he believe he could have his cake and eat it too, building a life with me on a foundation of such cruel lies? He underestimated me, utterly unaware of the chilling clarity that now filled me, or what I was truly capable of.
I gave a performance worthy of an Oscar, then began to systematically dismantle his carefully constructed deception, starting by packing up every single thing he owned. My wedding day became the day his life would truly end, and mine would finally begin. The Pregnant Wife's Bittersweet Revenge
Billionaires The little stick showed two pink lines. Pregnant. A wave of dizziness hit me, but not from joy.
The world dissolved, morphing into a sterile hospital room where a horrifying scene played out before my eyes.
There stood Ethan, my husband, strangely distant, beside Victoria, my beautiful, golden half-sister. "It's done," Victoria purred, her voice like chilled honey. "She's gone. And the child." Then her chilling whisper: the "wellness supplements" she' d insisted on were poison, designed to destroy my pregnancy, ending in a fall, screaming, and blood.
I gasped awake, clutching my stomach back in my own sunlit bathroom, the positive test still on the counter. It wasn't a nightmare; it was a terrifyingly real warning-my own husband and sister, conspiring to murder me and my unborn child, the chilling premonition of their betrayal.
This wasn't just a day; it was the day it all began, but this time, I would rewrite the ending. They wouldn't take my child. They wouldn't kill me. A hard, steel resolve formed in my chest: I would protect my baby. And I would make them pay. Every. Single. One. Of. Them. Puppets of the Pop-ups
Fantasy My daughter, Jessie, just 22, put down her phone at dinner and dropped a bomb: "I want all my rent money back. Plus interest." I sat there, stunned.
But then, above her head, words pulsed in a glowing rectangle only I could see: *"It’s time. Your boomer parents are exploiting you! Demand financial freedom!”*
That night was the start of a nightmare. The pop-ups raged, screaming about my 'theft' and Jessie's 'emotional labor,' twisting her into a demanding, entitled stranger.
She threatened court, stole family heirlooms to sell them online, and manipulated her soft-hearted father, David, into handing her cash for 'self-improvement courses' that never existed.
He, bless his naive heart, just wanted peace, even as Jessie shredded our family unit. I watched, helpless, as she descended into a greed I barely recognized, fueled by those insidious voices.
Was this truly my daughter, or was some digital entity puppeteering her every cruel demand? Why was I the only one who saw the glowing commands pushing her further into depravity?
My family was crumbling, my husband enabling, and my daughter turning into a monster, all thanks to these invisible whispers.
The final straw came when, driven by those very pop-ups, Jessie destroyed her own life chasing a wealthy, deadbeat fiancé, leaving behind ruin and a neglected baby.
That's when David and I decided: we’d stop fighting her battles. We’d save her son, but the daughter we knew was gone. We had to sever ties, for our own survival. You might like
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. 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. 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. 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. Broken Ring, Billionaire Secrets: Watch Me Shine
Cornelia I sat on the edge of the examination table, the crinkle of the sanitary paper sounding like thunder in the sterile room. The doctor didn't even look at me as he confirmed the news: the pregnancy was over. My husband, Keyon, didn't answer my call. He just sent an automated text: "In a meeting."
When I returned to our cold mansion, I found his iPad glowing with a message from his "muse," Katina. He was throwing her a secret gala tonight-on our third wedding anniversary. He told her he couldn't wait to escape the "boring" and "draining" atmosphere I created at home.
Keyon didn't stumble in until 3 AM, smelling of Katina's perfume with a smear of red on his collar. When I handed him the divorce papers, he laughed in my face. He called me a "glorified housekeeper" with no skills and no future, promising I'd be back in three days begging for a subway ticket. He even bet his friends ten thousand dollars that I wouldn't survive a week without his name.
He had his assistant cancel my credit cards and block my gate access before I even reached the end of the driveway. He wanted me to starve. He wanted me to crawl. He sat in his office, mocking the "desperate" woman who pawned her three-million-dollar wedding ring for scrap metal just to pay for a meal.
I stood on the rainy curb, watching the man I had protected for three years treat my life like trash. He didn't know about the ultrasound I just threw in the bin. He didn't know that while he was calling me "dull," I was the one secretly writing the code that kept his billion-dollar empire from collapsing.
As I slid into a cheap Uber, I opened a hidden, encrypted app on my phone. The screen refreshed to a dashboard for an account Keyon didn't know existed. The balance was ten figures long-the accumulated wealth of "Solaris," the world's most elusive tech genius. Keyon thinks he just evicted a parasite, but he's about to find out he just declared war on the only person who can hit "delete" on his entire life. Neglected Wife: Hidden Heiress's Cold Revenge
Da Lanlan I stood in the pouring rain at my father-in-law's funeral, the heels of my black pumps sinking into the mud. I was Mrs. Vargas, the wife of New York's most powerful billionaire, yet I was standing at the edge of the crowd like a forgotten statue.
Ten feet away, under the dry shelter of the family tent, my husband Hayes held another woman against his chest. It wasn't me he was whispering comfort to; it was Felicity, his late brother's widow and childhood sweetheart.
The humiliation didn't end at the cemetery. Hayes moved Felicity and her son into our home, relegating me to the guest wing while she took over the primary suites. He watched silently as her son smashed the only photograph of my deceased parents, then demanded I apologize for "scaring" the boy with my reaction. When Felicity's negligence ruined a twelve-million-dollar family heirloom, Hayes had the audacity to ask me to use my own savings to buy her a "consolation" engagement ring. He treated me like a parasite, never realizing I was a brilliant scientist with a hidden fortune and three patents to my name.
I realized then that our three-year marriage was a hollow farce. Hayes had never even touched me, claiming he wanted to "remain pure" for his memory of Felicity. I was nothing more than a business merger, a smudge on the lens of the perfect family portrait he was building with another man's widow.
The breaking point came during a lethal blizzard. Hayes promised to accompany me to my family's mandatory gala-a tradition where my absence meant a death sentence. But at the last second, he stood me up to stay home and tend to Felicity's stubbed toe. Left alone to face the wrath of the Santos Matriarch, I was forced to kneel in the freezing snow as punishment until my lungs began to fail and my vision blurred.
Just as the darkness started to take me, a black Maybach smashed through the iron gates. My exiled brother, the man the world calls "The Wolf," stepped out of the storm to reclaim what Hayes had discarded. Hayes thought I was a helpless doll who couldn't survive a day without his trust fund, but he's about to find out what happens when you let a Santos daughter freeze. His Twisted Game, My Dangerous Love
Elroy Notman Vesper's marriage to Julian Sterling was a gilded cage. One morning, she woke naked beside Damon Sterling, Julian's terrifying brother, then found a text: Julian's mistress was pregnant. Her world shattered, but the real nightmare had just begun.
Julian's abuse escalated, gaslighting Vesper, funding his secret life. Damon, a germaphobic billionaire, became her unsettling anchor amidst his chaos.
As "Iris," Vesper exposed Julian's mistress, Serena Sharp, sparking brutal war: poisoned drinks, a broken leg, and the horrifying truth-Julian murdered her parents, trapping Vesper in marriage.
The man she married was a killer. Broken and betrayed, Vesper was caught between monstrous brothers, burning with injustice.
Refusing victimhood, Vesper reclaimed her identity. Fueled by vengeance, she allied with Damon, who vowed to burn his empire for her. Julian faced justice, but matriarch Eleanor's counterattack forced Vesper's choice as a hitman aimed for her. He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him
SHANA GRAY The sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her.
Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. "Mr. Kensington," the nurse's voice cracked, "your wife... she's critical." A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. "Liam is in the shower," Seraphina's voice purred. "Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low." Then, Liam's bored voice: "If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning." Click. The line went dead.
A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living.
Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body.
Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back. SCORNED EX WIFE : Queen Of Ashes
Annypen Camille Lewis was the forgotten daughter, the unloved wife, the woman discarded like yesterday's news. Betrayed by her husband, cast aside by her own family, and left for dead by the sister who stole everything, she vanished without a trace.
But the weak, naive Camille died the night her car was forced off that bridge.
A year later, she returns as Camille Kane, richer, colder, and more powerful than anyone could have imagined. Armed with wealth, intelligence, and a hunger for vengeance, she is no longer the woman they once trampled on. She is the storm that will tear their world apart.
Her ex-husband begs for forgiveness. Her sister's perfect life crumbles. Her parents regret the daughter they cast aside. But Camille didn't come back for apologies, she came back to watch them burn.
But as her enemies fall at her feet, one question remains: when the revenge is over, what's left?
A mysterious trillionaire Alexander Pierce steps into her path, offering something she thought she lost forever, a future. But can a woman built on ashes learn to love again?
She rose from the fire to destroy those who betrayed her. Now, she must decide if she'll rule alone... or let someone melt the ice in her heart.
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