Culp
9 Published Stories
Culp's Books and Stories
From Cliffside Betrayal to Unbreakable Love
Romance My husband of five years, Mark, told me he was taking me on a romantic clifftop picnic. He poured me a glass of champagne, his smile as warm as the sun. He said it was to celebrate our life together.
But as I admired the view, his hands slammed into my back. The world dissolved into a blur of sky and rock as I plunged toward the ravine below.
I woke up broken and bleeding, just in time to hear his voice above. He wasn't alone. It was his mistress, Chloe.
"Is she... gone?" she asked.
"She fell a long way," Mark's voice was flat, devoid of emotion. "No one could survive that. By the time they find the body, it'll look like a tragic accident. Poor, unstable Clara, wandering too close to the edge."
The casual cruelty of his words was worse than the impact. He had already written my obituary, crafting the narrative of my demise while leaving me to die in the storm.
A wave of despair washed over me, but then something else ignited: a white-hot, furious anger.
Just as my vision started to fade, headlights sliced through the rain. A man stepped out of a luxury car. It wasn't Mark. It was Julian Thorne, my husband's most hated rival, and the one man who might want Mark destroyed as much as I did. Beyond Betrayal: A Wife Reborn
Billionaires The sharp, shattering pain was familiar. This was the eighth time. The eighth baby. My husband, Ethan, the perfect CEO, held my hand as grief suffocated me in the hospital bed. He looked like the picture of a devastated spouse.
But then, I heard voices from the hallway-Ethan' s and the doctor' s. "Mr. Hayes, why insist on… eliminating the one in your wife's belly? It's your own child!" the doctor strained. "Scarlett is particular, and she has needs. This is the safest method," Ethan replied, chillingly calm. Scarlett. His proclaimed "childhood friend." The words didn't make sense until their horrifying truth crashed down: my miscarriages weren't accidents. They were harvests, orchestrated by my loving husband to feed his mistress' s mysterious medical condition.
My love for him curdled into black hatred, my grief for our children blazing into a white-hot rage. I was an architect who designed buildings to withstand earthquakes; I wouldn't crumble. I closed my eyes, feigning sorrow, but inside, a new blueprint for revenge was being drawn. Then I heard the doctor's terrified whisper: "And the hysterectomy? Paralysis? Ethan, that's going too far. She's your wife." His voice, devoid of emotion, cut through the haze: "She's too strong-willed. This will keep her safe. And quiet." They were going to gut me, cripple me, take everything. They had no idea what they had just created.
Later, I overheard Ethan on the phone again, his voice a low murmur: "She's sedated. You can proceed with the surgery. The hysterectomy first. And make sure the nerve block is permanent. I don't want any surprises." Hysterectomy. Permanent. You bastard, Ethan, I thought as darkness pulled me under. You' re not just taking my children. You' re taking my future. You' re taking my body.
But you haven' t taken my mind. And it will be the instrument of your destruction. Betrayed By My Savior Husband
Modern The champagne shimmered, my fiancé Daniel was by my side, and my parents, pillars of the tech world, beamed with pride. It was my engagement day, perfect as a movie scene.
Then, the screens behind us, meant for happy memories, flared to life with my face, but not my body-a horrifying deepfake, accompanied by a torrent of our company' s most intimate client data, all pinned on my mother.
The ballroom erupted. Whispers turned to shouts, Daniel recoiled as if burned, and my mother, the renowned ethicist, was swarmed by reporters, branded a fraud and criminal. My father, director of Miller Security, clutched his chest, watching his wife' s ruin and his daughter' s humiliation before collapsing-dead, on the polished floor.
The Vance family patriarch declared our engagement off, leaving me standing alone, my world shattered into a million pieces. In ten minutes, I lost everything: my reputation, my family, my future, and my father's life.
Three years later, I was married to Ethan Vance, Daniel' s brother, a man I believed was my savior, gently rebuilding my life in a quiet, gilded cage. Until I overheard a chilling conversation between Ethan and his best friend, Mark.
"Shouldn't you take down those awful deepfakes? Now that Tiffany is happily integrated into your family, why keep tormenting Chloe?" Mark' s voice was laced with anger I'd never heard.
Ethan's reply, calm and cold, made my blood run cold: "The Miller family's influence was too strong. As long as they were respected, how could Tiffany feel secure?"
My parents, his mentors, had been destroyed for Tiffany, Daniel's new wife. Every tender word, every protective gesture from Ethan had been a carefully orchestrated lie. My husband, my rescuer, was the monster who had meticulously planned my family' s ruin and profited from my humiliation.
I had been sleeping beside my father' s murderer for three years. The realization hit me like a physical blow, stripping away every illusion. I had to make him pay for everything he had done. The Truth Set Her Free
Romance The long shadows of the late afternoon stretch across my perfectly curated living room, a silent testament to the lie my life has become.
My husband, Liam, a rising star, values perfection-a facade we' ve painstakingly built.
Our marriage is a stable, respectable union on paper, a performance, with me, a talented architect, as his willing partner.
Then he died, swiftly, unexpectedly, at forty-five.
Buried within his belongings, a locked box in his study, I found it: the truth.
Letters, photographs-a hidden life with Chloe, his childhood sweetheart, his true love for decades.
My entire marriage, my twenty years, was an elaborate charade for his reputation.
The pain was a physical entity, suffocating, extinguishing my will to live.
I died too, then woke up.
Not in a hospital, not in an afterlife, but here, in this cold house, two years into my marriage, twenty-four again.
The ghost of a twenty-year lie lived inside me, but it brought a cold, hard resolve.
I would not let it happen again, not waste another two decades as a supporting character.
I will live for myself this time.
The key in the lock, Liam' s flat voice: "I'm home."
This time, I remained seated.
His brow furrowed, unused to my stillness.
"Is something wrong?"
"Just tired," I replied, my voice as level as his.
He was a stranger now, every gesture filtered through future knowledge, every polite smile a calculation, every question a check on his investment.
He funded Chloe' s art studies abroad, a fortune spent while I pinched pennies.
That money, even now, was for her.
The rage was cold, sharp.
Then, he dropped the bombshell: "Chloe is coming back… she could stay with us for a while."
My heart stilled.
It was happening again.
In my past life, I agreed, eager to please, starting my slow erasure.
This time, I looked directly at him, seeing the feigned concern, the carefully constructed lie.
"No," I said, the word a slammed door.
His eyes, cold and dark, narrowed.
"What did you say?"
"I said no," I repeated, my voice gaining strength.
"She can't stay here."
A strange power surged.
He was dealing with a different woman now, a woman who knew all his secrets. The Underestimated Wife's Revenge
Billionaires The heavy scent of grilled meat and expensive cologne filled the private room at Harris' Steakhouse.
My tech CEO husband, Mark, called it a "boys' night out," but I was there, a silent fixture at the dark wood table, habitually ignored.
His tech bro friends, Kevin and Josh, flanked him, their laughter growing too loud.
Then, in a momentary lull, I calmly stated, "I' m thinking about it too," referring to getting a divorce.
The entire table erupted, not in surprise, but in loud, condescending laughter, Mark' s the loudest of all.
He wiped a tear from his eye and sneered, "You? Divorce me? What do you have without me, Sarah? You dropped out of Vassar, remember? For me. You think you can survive for a week without my money?"
His friend Kevin, already flushed from too much wine, then slurred a public dare, "If you actually divorce Mark, I swear, I' ll live-stream chugging a blended concoction of the grossest things!"
They truly believed I was a fragile, dependent ornament, easily controlled.
They saw only a trophy wife, utterly incapable of independent thought or action.
They didn't see the cold, hard knot of pure resolve tightening inside my gut.
They certainly didn't know about the countless hours I'd spent in our Atherton mansion's library, diligently studying California community property law.
A tiny, almost imperceptible smile touched my lips as I met their gazes.
"No, Mark," I said, standing slowly, my voice cool and even, "I don' t think I will apologize; in fact, I've already had divorce papers drawn up."
My lawyer would be in touch with his.
Weeks later, when his young intern, Tiffany, smugly tried to announce her fake pregnancy at a family dinner, I exposed Mark's zero sperm count to his horrified mother and everyone present.
They had utterly underestimated me, and my meticulously researched plan to reclaim my life had just begun. Reborn to Rewrite: The Heiress's Second Chance
Modern My 21st birthday was supposed to be a joyous occasion, a display of family pride and wealth as I chose my future husband.
But a horrifying secret simmered beneath the celebratory facade: I was reliving my life, and this very day, my previous choice of fiancé, Ethan Vanderbilt III, had led to my family’s empire crumbling and their agonizing death in a fiery jet crash.
The chilling memory of their screams, the inferno, and the realization that Ethan's charm was nothing but a weapon, clawed at my sanity.
How could I possibly explain to my loving, unaware parents that their perfect daughter had already lived a nightmare version of this life, where their trust in me—and my choice—had damned us all?
Trapped by a past only I remembered, with the venomous name of Ethan Vanderbilt still lurking on my pre-approved marriage list, I made a radical, desperate decision: I would choose a man entirely outside his orbit, defying fate and claiming my second chance to keep my family safe. The Miscarriage Plot
Horror The tiny screen showed a pulsing heartbeat, and Doctor Ramirez smiled.
I was pregnant, overjoyed, ready to build our perfect family with Michael, my loving husband, and my rock-solid best friend, Chloe.
It felt like a dream come true after years of trying.
Then Chloe gifted me an antique locket, a seemingly thoughtful "protection charm."
But soon after, my baby's heartbeat grew alarmingly erratic.
The doctor warned me, while a chilling encounter with an eccentric antique dealer sparked a horrifying thought: Was the locket cursed?
Could it be a "vessel of sorrow" meant to "rebalance fates"?
His ominous words echoed as Chloe, who’d struggled with IVF, began showing surprising "positive signs."
Desperate to protect my child, I tried to banish the locket's influence.
That’s when I overheard the insidious truth: Michael’s voice, hushed, conspiring with Chloe.
“The locket’s influence is definitely working,” he whispered.
“Her inevitable breakdown will make things easier.”
“The trust fund... it’ll all be sorted.”
Betrayal ripped through me, cold and agonizing.
My husband, the man I trusted with my life, and my best friend, were actively orchestrating my ruin.
The “curse” wasn’t supernatural; it was a calculated scheme of psychological torture and subtle drugs.
It was all designed to induce my miscarriage and drive me mad, all for my family’s trust fund.
Every loving glance, every comforting word, a horrifying lie.
The terror was instant, quickly followed by a searing, ice-cold fury.
They thought I was collapsing, but their vile deception simply ignited a dormant strength within me.
They wanted to tear down my world.
I wouldn't just survive; I would meticulously expose their every deceit.
I would dismantle their entire wicked plot.
And I would ensure they faced justice for the monstrous theft of my peace, my future, and my baby. Her Quiet Vengeance
Modern My husband, Michael, stumbled home one day, not with a briefcase, but a bundle. A baby, he claimed, "found" at a gas station. His too-loud voice, his darting eyes, the wads of cash he pressed into my hand—I saw through the charade immediately. My suspicions, honed by years of his subtle lies and secret Vegas trips, solidified. He wanted me to raise this child, a "blessing" he called it, while he preened as a selfless savior.
For eighteen years, I endured Michael's arrogance, his mother’s thinly veiled disdain for my childlessness, and his endless stream of deceit. He believed me a naive, devoted wife, blissfully unaware of his true connections to the baby's birth mother, a woman named Jessica. He bragged about Ethan, "his" son, never knowing I was painstakingly uncovering every detail of his betrayal—the secret payments, the fabricated narratives, the hidden identity of Ethan’s real father, a man with dangerous ties.
The injustice of his blatant lies, how he’d used me to build his perfect family facade, fueled a cold, quiet rage within me. I smiled, I nodded, I played the part of the perfect mother to Ethan, the brilliant son I adored. But beneath that placid surface, I was a strategist, meticulously gathering my evidence, waiting for the opportune moment.
When Ethan was accepted into Yale, Michael decided it was time for his grand reveal: divorcing me to "reunite" with Jessica and "his" long-lost son at a lavish party. He thought he was orchestrating his ultimate triumph. He had no idea he was stepping into a meticulously crafted trap, two decades in the making, set by the wife he completely underestimated. 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." 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 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!" 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." 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." 
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