Estelle Cramail
9 Published Stories
Estelle Cramail's Books and Stories
Pregnant Oracle: The CEO's Most Dangerous Mistake
Modern I stared at the ceiling tiles of the sterile clinic, counting water stains to keep from screaming. The IVF transfer was complete, but the nurse didn’t call me a mother—she called the life inside me an "asset" for Caldwell Holdings.
When I walked into my husband Alexander’s office to demand a divorce, he didn't even look up from his desk. He just laughed, shredded my legal papers, and told me I was nothing more than a high-end broodmare for his inheritance.
The nightmare only deepened from there. To keep me in line, Alexander fabricated evidence of an affair to destroy my reputation. When I tried to run, he revealed he controlled the facility where my sister was on life support, threatening to pull the plug if I didn't submit.
"One phone call, and her ventilator stops," he whispered.
Even my own parents turned against me, demanding I apologize to Alexander’s mistress just to secure their next business merger. I was a prisoner in my own life, trapped between a husband who wanted to own me and a family that had already sold me. I couldn't understand why everyone was so obsessed with this pregnancy until I saw the fear in Alexander's eyes when his uncle, the powerful Harrison Sterling, started showing up at my door.
I finally hacked into the clinic’s high-security database and found the truth. There had been a catastrophic lab breach the day of my procedure. The donor wasn't some anonymous third party.
I wasn't carrying my husband's child. I was carrying his uncle's heir.
As Alexander sent a hitman to stage a fatal "accident" on the Manhattan Bridge, I realized the war had just begun. This time, I wasn't just fighting for my life—I was holding the nuclear leverage that would burn the Caldwell empire to the ground. The Unwanted Heiress's Billionaire Return
Young Adult After eight years in captivity, I was finally rescued. I thought it was the beginning of a new life with my mother.
But she didn't even look at me. She ran into the arms of a handsome stranger, her real husband, and I was treated like a dirty secret from her past.
They called me a contamination, a reminder of their trauma. My new stepsister set their Doberman on me, and as the dog's teeth sank into my arm, I looked up and saw my mother watching from the window.
She met my eyes for a second, then slowly closed the curtains.
In that moment, the last bit of hope I had died. The shallow bond of family was completely gone, and I finally gave up.
But they made one mistake. The family patriarch, suspicious after a car accident, ordered a secret DNA test.
The results came back on the day of my stepsister's birthday party, revealing a truth that would burn their perfect world to the ground. From Trophy Wife To Forgotten
Romance I decided to leave him on a Tuesday, not with a bang, but with the quiet, chilling certainty that settled in my bones as I watched him sleep in our bedroom doorway.
For seven years, our life together had been a carefully constructed epic, built on shared apartments, inside jokes, and intertwined lives, a foundation I believed was unshatterable.
Then, he walked in from a "work trip," a charming smile plastered on his face, attempting to pull me into a hug as if nothing had changed.
But something had; a faint, almost imperceptible smudge of pink on the white collar of his shirt-a shade that wasn\'t mine.
My world shattered as a brutal text arrived from an unknown number: a picture of his car, a fluffy pink charm in the rearview mirror, and a taunting message, "He likes my taste, doesn\'t he?"
The cold, hard truth clicked into place: not only was he cheating, but his mistress, Sophia, was flaunting her triumph, confirming she was building a whole separate life with him.
The final, devastating blow came at his parents\' anniversary party when I overheard the hushed whisper: "She\'s pregnant."
The champagne glass slipped from my fingers, shattering like my heart, a deafening sound in the sudden silence of my mind.
Liam, ever oblivious, still tried to parade me around as his trophy, even as Sophia, undeniably showing, called him away with a whimper, "Liam, I want to go home!" leaving me in a sea of strangers to make his choice.
He chose her. Again.
Seeing Sophia, blatant in her shared future with my long-term partner, filled me with a sickening realization: this wasn\'t just an affair; it was a cold, calculated betrayal of the deepest kind, and I was just an inconvenient obstacle.
The next day, as he left on a "work" call from Sophia, I moved swiftly, placing the silver bracelet with the "S" charm from his wallet on the nightstand, along with printed texts from another man to Sophia-proof of her own double game.
Then, as the car pulled away, I took out my phone and typed, "It\'s over, Liam. I know everything. About Sophia. About the baby. Have a nice life."
And with a final, liberating block of his number, I drove away, leaving him to the wreckage of his own making, finally free. When Envy Destroys Her Empire
Young Adult My scholarship, my future, everything I' d worked for, was hanging by a thread.
It all started innocently enough, just another day buried in academic articles at the university cafeteria. That is, until Brittany, a campus influencer I barely knew, slammed a tray on my table and demanded I pay for her twenty-dollar lunch because her card was declined.
When I politely refused, her perfectly made-up face twisted, and she snarled, "You' ll regret this." I dismissed it as an empty threat, a petty outburst from someone used to always getting her way.
But I was catastrophically wrong.
The next morning, her revenge hit like a wrecking ball. She' d posted a picture of me online, concocting a wildly elaborate story claiming I was a "creepy stalker" fixated on her, who then became "aggressive and hostile" when confronted. The comments section exploded, full of strangers condemning me, my university peers quickly judging me guilty without question.
The "serious matter" my advisor wanted to discuss was suddenly terrifyingly clear. My scholarship, my reputation, my entire future was being threatened by a baseless lie, fueled by an angry online mob.
How could a simple refusal to buy someone lunch spiral into a campus-wide witch hunt? And how could I possibly fight back against an accusation that was not only false, but had already gone viral?
Standing in front of Professor Davies and the Dean, my life on the line, I had to come up with something, anything, to prove the truth. And then, it hit me-a flicker of hope, a long shot… the cafeteria' s security camera. The Artist Who Cheated Death
Modern The news of Ava Green' s death rattled the New York art world, just a week after her sold-out exhibition crowned her the city' s newest star at 33.
The official report blamed a random car accident, but whispers grew louder when tabloids linked her tech mogul ex-husband, Mark Davis, to rising pop star Sienna Brooks, pictures surfacing the day after Ava died.
At her funeral, Mark feigned grief in the front row, while Ava's mother, Sarah, eyed him with a chilling mix of pity and calculation, her comfort a veiled claim.
A gallerist eulogized Ava, quoting her final interview: "My art is about the life you live after you realize the first one wasn't yours."
No one truly understood her words until it was too late, leaving a haunting question of what secret pain she carried.
But death was not the end; Ava awoke, inexplicably, in her lavish marital bed, ten years in the past, to the shock of her 23-year-old self staring back from the mirror. My Best Friend, My Wife, My Betrayal
Romance As an Austin IT guy, I bore the crushing guilt of my supposed infertility, convinced I was failing my influencer wife, Jess, and her dream of a family. Our marriage had grown cold, dominated by her career, and the weight of my perceived inadequacy was immense. But then, I stumbled upon a secret: birth control pills hidden in Jess's bag. My world tilted, the carefully constructed narrative of our life starting to crack.
Jess tearfully confessed to using them for career reasons, skillfully manipulating my guilt over my "condition" documented by an acquaintance nurse, Sarah. I reluctantly accepted, but a chilling suspicion had taken root. Soon after, I found items belonging to my best friend, David, tucked away in Jess' s room - strange for a place she claimed was exclusively hers.
The truth burst open when my hidden camera caught them: Jess and David, intimately involved, proving my betrayal was deeper than I imagined. Then, Sarah, consumed by guilt, confessed it all: Jess' s infertility report was fake, there was no miscarriage, and she' d had an abortion long before, fearing it would derail her career. My entire life had been built on their elaborate lies.
The betrayal escalated from emotional manipulation to outright attempted murder. Jess drugged me and tried to drown me in a staged car accident, only for Sarah to miraculously save me. Witnessing Jess and David celebrating my "death" on my phone ignited a pure, incandescent rage. Every ounce of my fabricated guilt vanished, replaced by an urgent need for justice.
My innocent confusion was gone. I knew now: I wouldn't be their victim any longer. This IT guy was about to turn the tables and expose every single one of their heinous secrets. Married To A Lie
Modern I was just shelving books in my tiny New York apartment, my parents, renowned investigative journalists, chasing a big story in New Orleans, and my engagement to City Councilman Ethan Bellweather just around the corner.
Then, the call came: a car bombing, my parents gone, their names slandered as villains in the news.
Ethan, my fiancé, publicly abandoned me for their intern, Alexis Thorne, right on live TV, shattering my world.
In my despair, Ethan's older brother, Marcus, the chief forensic pathologist, became my only anchor, vowing to uncover the truth about my parents, and I married him, desperately clinging to his promise.
Five years of hollow vows and polite silence passed, our sterile marriage echoing with unasked questions, until a chilling conversation revealed Marcus had actively covered up the military-grade details of my parents' murder and fiercely protected Alexis.
My world shattered once more: the man who swore to find justice was part of the very conspiracy, meticulously hiding the truth about Alexis, the daughter of the magnate my parents exposed, and her deep, shared past with him and Ethan.
Pregnant with Marcus's child, I endured his attempts to 'reconcile' me with Alexis, before overhearing Alexis confessing to the murder and thanking Marcus for his years of cover-up.
At a charity gala, Alexis shamelessly faked an attack, causing my miscarriage, with Marcus choosing her over me, cold contempt chilling his eyes as he cradled her instead of me.
Left alone and bleeding, my baby lost, I gathered every damning piece of evidence, tipped off the FBI, and vanished, finally ready to tear down the empire of lies they built on my parents' graves. The Phoenix Wife
Romance Weeks after my C-section, exhausted and clinging to my newborn, Lily, my husband Jake burst through the door, reeking of cheap perfume and stale beer.
Trailing behind him was Tiffany “Tiff” Evans, openly pregnant, a smirk on her face.
“Tiff’s pregnant,” he announced, not even looking at me or our baby. “I want a divorce. Now. And she’s moving in today.”
My world spun. Not again.
A terrifying vision, sharp as shattered glass, of a past life: the exact same words, the exact same betrayal, ending with Lily’s tragic death and my parents consumed by flames, all set by Jake.
In this life, later that very day, Jake’s drunken rage caused Lily to fall twice.
She lay lifeless.
My father’s house, my family’s legacy, was ripped away through his cruel deceit, leaving me alone with my baby’s cold, still body in a seedy motel.
How could fate be so cruel as to force me to relive this nightmare?
The injustice was a crushing weight, my grief calcified into a chilling resolve.
There were no tears left, only a burning, vengeful fire within.
This was my second chance, a horrifying replay.
And this time, armed with future knowledge, a silent vow erupted from the depths of my soul: They would all pay.
Every single one of them.
For Lily. For my parents.
I wouldn't just survive; I would make them wish they’d never been born. From Cell Block To Center Stage
Romance After five long years, the prison gates groaned open.
My husband, Michael, and our son, Kevin, were waiting, their presence a balm to my battered soul.
I stepped into the blinding California sun, believing my nightmare was over, ready to reclaim my life.
But within days, searching for old family videos on Michael’s tablet, I stumbled upon a subfolder: “Audio Notes – Misc.”
The latest file contained Kevin's voice, confessing how he’d helped his father frame me – swapping my USB drive, planting evidence before my career-defining presentation.
Then, Michael's chilling confirmation: he orchestrated my downfall, all to clear the path for a young actress, Sophia Bell.
My meticulously rebuilt hope shattered.
My five years in prison weren't a mistake; they were a deliberate sacrifice orchestrated by my own husband and son.
I discovered Michael’s study was a shrine to Sophia, filled with devotion he never showed me.
At Sophia’s lavish Hollywood party for the film stolen from my script, I saw my grandmother’s cherished necklace – my wedding "something old" – glinting on her neck.
My own father publicly disowned me, my son Kevin shoved me to the ground, calling me an embarrassment.
Later, I found Michael and Sophia in *my* bed, my heirloom tossed carelessly aside.
How could the people I loved most betray me with such cold precision?
Was my entire life built on a foundation of lies and manipulation?
The pain was suffocating, the injustice searing.
With trembling hands, I signed the divorce papers.
Minutes later, I was in a black car with David Lee, my loyal friend, leaving behind the wreckage.
No suitcase, no goodbyes, just the quiet click of the door marking the start of a new battle and a new dawn. You might like
Beneath His Ugly Wife's Mask: Her Revenge Was Her Brilliance
Lukas Difabio Elliana, the unfavored "ugly duckling" of her family, was humiliated by her stepsister, Paige, who everyone admired. Paige, engaged to the CEO Cole, was the perfect woman-until Cole married Elliana on the day of the wedding. Shocked, everyone wondered why he chose the "ugly" woman.
As they waited for her to be cast aside, Elliana stunned everyone by revealing her true identity: a miracle healer, financial mogul, appraisal prodigy, and AI genius.
When her mistreatment became known, Cole revealed Elliana's stunning, makeup-free photo, sending shockwaves through the media. "My wife doesn't need anyone's approval." The Humble Ex-wife Is Now A Brilliant Tycoon
Flory Corkery For three quiet, patient years, Christina kept house, only to be coldly discarded by the man she once trusted.
Instead, he paraded a new lover, making her the punchline of every town joke.
Liberated, she honed her long-ignored gifts, astonishing the town with triumph after gleaming triumph.
Upon discovering she'd been a treasure all along, her ex-husband's regret drove him to pursue her. "Honey, let's get back together!"
With a cold smirk, Christina spat, "Fuck off."
A silken-suited mogul slipped an arm around her waist. "She's married to me now. Guards, get him the hell out of here!" Marrying Her Was Easy, Losing Her Was Hell
Michael Tretter "Stella once savored Marc's devotion, yet his covert cruelty cut deep. She torched their wedding portrait at his feet while he sent flirty messages to his mistress.
With her chest tight and eyes blazing, Stella delivered a sharp slap.
Then she deleted her identity, signed onto a classified research mission, vanished without a trace, and left him a hidden bombshell.
On launch day she vanished; that same dawn Marc's empire crumbled. All he unearthed was her death certificate, and he shattered.
When they met again, a gala spotlighted Stella beside a tycoon. Marc begged. With a smirk, she said, ""Out of your league, darling." 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." Rising From Wreckage: Starfall's Epic Comeback
Huo Wuer Rain hammered against the asphalt as my sedan spun violently into the guardrail on the I-95. Blood trickled down my temple, stinging my eyes, while the rhythmic slap of the windshield wipers mocked my panic.
Trembling, I dialed my husband, Clive. His executive assistant answered instead, his voice professional and utterly cold.
"Mr. Wilson says to stop the theatrics. He said, and I quote, 'Hang up. Tell her I don’t have time for her emotional blackmail tonight.'"
The line went dead while I was still trapped in the wreckage. At the hospital, I watched the news footage of Clive wrapping his jacket around his "fragile" ex-girlfriend, Angelena, shielding her from the storm I was currently bleeding in. When I returned to our penthouse, I found a prenatal ultrasound in his suit pocket, dated the day he claimed to be on a business trip.
Instead of an apology, Clive met me with a sneer. He told me I was nothing but an "expensive decoration" his father bought to make him look stable. He froze my bank accounts and cut off my cards, waiting for the hunger to drive me back to his feet.
I stared at the man I had loved for four years, realizing he didn't just want a wife; he wanted a prop he could switch off. He thought he could starve me into submission while he played father to another woman's child.
But Clive forgot one thing. Before I was his trophy wife, I was Starfall—the legendary voice actress who vanished at the height of her fame.
"I'm not jealous, Clive. I'm done."
I grabbed my old microphone and walked out. I’m not just leaving him; I’m taking the lead role in the biggest saga in Hollywood—the one Angelena is desperate for. This time, the "decoration" is going to burn his world down. 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 $300 Husband Is A Zillionaire
Nap Regazzini I woke up in a blindingly white hotel penthouse with a throbbing headache and the taste of betrayal in my mouth. The last thing I remembered was my stepsister, Cathie, handing me a flute of champagne at the charity gala with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
Now, a tall, dangerously handsome man walked out of the bathroom with a towel around his hips. On the nightstand sat a stack of hundred-dollar bills. My stepmother had finally done it—she drugged me and staged a scandal with a hired escort to destroy my reputation and my future.
"Aisha! Is it true you spent the night with a gigolo?" The shouts of a dozen reporters echoed through the heavy oak door as camera flashes exploded through the peephole. My phone lit up with messages showing my bank accounts were already frozen. My father was invoking the 'morality clause' in my mother’s trust fund, and my fiancé had already released a statement dumping me to marry my stepsister instead.
I was trapped, penniless, and being hunted by the press for a scandal I hadn't even participated in. My own family had sold me out for a payday, and the man standing in front of me was the only witness who could prove I was innocent—or finish me off for good.
I didn't have time to cry. According to the fine print of the trust, I had thirty days to prove my "rehabilitation" through a legal marriage or I would lose everything.
I tracked the man down to a coffee shop the next morning, watching him take a thick envelope of cash from a wealthy older woman. I sat across from him and slid a napkin with a $50,000 figure written on it.
"I need a husband. Legal, paper-signed, and convincing."
He looked at the number, then at me, a slow, crooked smile spreading across his face. I thought I was hiring a desperate gigolo to save my inheritance. I had no idea I was actually proposing to Dominic Fields, the reclusive billionaire shark who was currently planning a hostile takeover of my father’s entire empire.