Fei Se
11 Published Stories
Fei Se's Books and Stories
Pampered By The Enemy Of My Ex
Mafia I served the Dunlap family for six years, managing their dark accounts and raising children that weren't mine, all while waiting for my husband to truly love me.
But when the "real" mistress returned, my devotion was rewarded with a death sentence. My husband, Gavyn, didn't just ask for a divorce; he dragged me to a cliff edge.
He stood next to Iliana, the woman who stole my life, and looked at me with cold indifference. He called me a thief. He called me an "incubator"—a temporary vessel used to hold his place until his princess came back.
Then, he ordered his hitman to finish it.
I managed to bribe the hitman and jumped into the freezing ocean, but the fall cost me the only thing that mattered. Alone on a desolate beach, shivering and broken, I miscarried Gavyn's child—the baby he didn't even know existed.
I lay in the sand, hollowed out by grief. I couldn't understand how the man I worshipped could discard me like trash. He didn't just break my heart; he tried to erase my existence.
But fate wasn't done with me.
On that same beach, I found a wounded young man hiding in the woods. He wasn't just a stranger; he was the lost heir to the Sosa crime family—Gavyn's mortal enemies.
When the Don, Daniel Sosa, came to claim his nephew, he offered me a hand.
Now, the world thinks Alex Dunlap is dead.
But tonight, I am walking into the Grand Gala on the arm of the most dangerous man in the city.
And I’m going to burn Gavyn’s empire to the ground. Pregnant Mistress, Broken Wife
Romance My husband, Mark, was in the shower when a message from an unknown number buzzed, "Your husband says I'm way more exciting than you, his dead fish, and now I'm pregnant with his child. Who do you think he'll choose?" It was Chloe Miller, Mark' s assistant, the one I' d personally recommended.
My breath caught as a video downloaded-Mark, wild and untamed, saying something I couldn't hear over the pounding in my ears. The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the shower. Humiliation washed over me, and my decade-long world crumbled.
I found a drafted divorce agreement in Mark' s desk drawer. He had been planning this. Then Chloe sent more photos-Mark kissing her in a honeymoon suite in Iceland, taunting me with, "How long has it been since he touched you, old hag?" Every image was a fresh stab of pain.
At a charity gala, Chloe, visibly pregnant, clung to Mark. He whispered to her, showing genuine worry. He then bought her a diamond necklace right after buying me a spa voucher. Later, his phone lit up with a message from her, "Is the old hag mad? Don' t worry about her. Come back to me. The baby and I need you." He typed back instantly, still holding me, pretending to comfort me.
How could he feign concern for me while being so blatantly connected to her? How could he lie so effortlessly, acting the part of a loving husband while planning to discard me and our entire life? The hypocrisy was suffocating, the cruelty breathtaking.
I looked at his smiling, deceitful face, and felt nothing but a vast, empty wasteland where my love for him used to be. My heart, once a steady flame, was extinguished. Now, all that was left were the ashes, and I was ready to become the storm. My Brother's Lies, My Fiancé's Betrayal
Modern My brother, at the whim of his new girlfriend, fired our entire security team, leaving my mother and me alone in our isolated lake house. I had a premonition of a violent attack, but he just laughed and called me a drama queen.
That night, my vision came true. Intruders stormed our home, and my mother took a crowbar to the chest to save my life.
I escaped through the blizzard, bleeding and desperate, to my fiancé Cristofer' s cabin. He met me with a cold smirk.
"Broderick warned me you'd pull a stunt like this."
He accused me of faking it all for attention, then beat me until I tasted blood, leaving me on the floor.
My brother and the man I was supposed to marry had branded me a liar while my mother was dying. They had chosen to believe a fantasy over my reality.
But as I lay there, broken, Cristofer's phone rang. It was the sheriff, confirming a 911 call about a home invasion and a critically wounded victim at our address.
Their world of lies was about to come crashing down. Heartbreak and Hope: A Quiet Rebellion
Modern The doctor' s words hit me like a cold gavel: six months left to live. My life's purpose, my son David, would inherit everything I' d worked for. My life was dedicated to him, every penny saved, so he and his family would never worry.
On Christmas Eve, after preparing a giant feast, David called, claiming they were stuck in traffic. Then I overheard his wife, Jessica, and David himself, laughing about my "stuffy little house" from his biological father Daniel's mansion, discussing how they needed to ensure David was in my will.
A cold dread seeped into my bones as I listened to them tear me apart. Jessica hissed that I held David back, keeping him from his "real, successful father." David, my son, replied with a deep resentment, wishing he were a Hayes, not a Miller.
The phone clicked dead. The love that had defined my existence went cold. I had worked two jobs, sold my mother' s jewelry, and sacrificed my retirement for him, only to be called selfish and an obstacle.
If I was just a will to him, then I would write a new one. My quiet rebellion had begun. Love's Cruel Game: A Wife's Sacrifice
Sci-fi The system's cold, mechanical voice echoed in my head: "Elimination in 24 hours. Affection and love values from all targets remain at zero. Final task failed." My life, spent trying to win a game of affection I was designed to lose, was ending.
Then the phone rang. It was my husband, David, frantic. "Olivia, where are you? Get to the hospital. Now. It's Emily." My twin sister. Always Emily. Her kidneys had failed, she needed a transplant, and as her twin, I was the perfect match.
My heart didn't even flutter. They demanded my last kidney, just as they always demanded sacrifices from me. My mother called next, yelling, "How can you be so selfish? Your sister needs you! We've given you everything... the least you can do is save her life." They called Emily "delicate," their excuse for endless favoritism, while seeing me as "the strong one" who endured and gave without complaint. I had already secretly given my father one of my kidneys years ago, letting Emily take the credit and the love.
I signed the consent forms for the surgery, a final act of surrender. My family promised David a down payment on a house and offered me "forgiveness for all the trouble I'd caused"- a veiled threat for a lifetime of perceived defiance. I was a tool, a means to Emily's end, and now, a vessel to be emptied.
I had chased their love for ten years, following the system' s tasks, sacrificing my dignity for worthless points. But every time I earned one, Emily found a way to make me lose two. David' s score never even reached one. Now I knew the truth: the system was a curse, a reflection of my desperate need for their approval, and it was killing me.
Just hours before the surgery, a new nightmare began. Emily's latest design was leaked, traced to my IP address. The press swarmed; my mother slapped me; Emily, the perfect victim, cried for me to be forgiven. My family ordered me to confess, to take the blame for something I didn't do, to protect Emily's reputation. And I did it. I publicly admitted to being the jealous villain, sacrificing my name, my dignity, my entire being for the family that never loved me. His Betrayal, Her Blinding Revenge
Horror The last thing I remembered was the blinding glare of headlights. When I woke, my world was darkness and pain, my hands - my tools - shattered.
My fiancé, Liam, the city's celebrated neurosurgeon, became my rock, his voice a soothing balm. He claimed the drunk driver was caught, our unborn son Leo was safe, and he' d be my eyes and hands until I healed.
Months blurred into a fog of physical therapy and his suffocating care. My hands were slow, my blindness absolute, a constant reminder of my helplessness.
But then, a flicker. A shape. Color. My sight was coming back, a miracle I couldn' t wait to share with Liam.
But as I approached his operating room, voices drifted out, shattering my illusion.
"Dr. Miller, Mrs. Chen' s hands are showing signs of recovery again. Do you really want to break her fingers again? This is the eighth time."
Eighth time? And then… "Ben, Leo was killed by you. You want to protect Charlotte, but you don' t need to destroy Ava!"
Charlotte? Leo was killed? By Liam? This man, my savior, had murdered our son and systematically tortured me to protect his mistress?
The joy in my heart turned to an icy dread. He thought I was blind, helpless, and broken. He had no idea the woman he tried to destroy was meticulously cataloging his every lie, his every atrocity.
He thought I was his victim. He was wrong. I was his judge. And the trial had just begun. A Wife's Reckoning
Romance Eight years of marriage, white tablecloths, and soft candlelit dinners.
My husband, Liam, the man who once promised forever, took my hand across an expensive restaurant table.
But the perfection shattered when he pulled his hand back, revealing his family' s relentless demand for an heir.
Then Chloe, a "good, healthy girl" from the countryside, appeared in our living room, brought by his iron-willed grandmother.
Soon, I overheard the whispers: Chloe was pregnant. Liam' s baby.
When I confronted him with divorce papers, he begged, "I thought it was you."
I believed his pleas for one more chance, for him to "handle" Chloe.
But the real test came in a dusty warehouse: his business rivals, a choice to be made.
"You can only have one," a cold voice stated. "Your wife, Ava, or your other woman, Chloe, carrying your heir."
I held my breath, knowing he should choose me.
"Let Chloe go. Protect the child. I need the child," Liam' s voice echoed, cold and distant.
Then came a frantic whisper, "Ava, I promise. I' ll come back for you."
The last thing I saw before the metal pipe struck was his empty promise, his true betrayal.
I woke in a hospital, three days later, battered and abandoned.
He didn' t come. He never called.
He arrived later, no remorse, only self-pity, declaring, "I had to protect the heir. It was the only choice."
His grandmother dismissed me as a barren failure, while Chloe, playing the innocent martyr, cried, "I told Liam to choose you… but he insisted on saving the baby… our baby."
Watching him fuss over her, over their baby, something clicked.
I was pregnant. Seven weeks.
And he had just sacrificed our child, draining me for her, for a lie.
My father's factory burned, his heart giving out from the shock, and Chloe, playing the sympathetic helper, framed me for arson.
Then Liam had me committed to a psychiatric facility, where I barely survived a head injury.
I finally understood: this wasn't about love, or even an heir. It was a calculated, ruthless game of power and betrayal.
A cold, clear rage settled in. I would not just leave. I would make them pay.
I would burn his kingdom to the ground. The Truth They Left Behind
Fantasy Hurricane warnings flashed across my screen. My "family"-my adoptive mother Jennifer, my brother Matthew, and my beloved sister Sabrina-drank champagne, scoffing at my warnings.
But when the storm hit, and the grand mansion began to collapse, it was me, Nicole, the "hick" from Appalachia, who dragged their dead weight from under crumbling ceilings. I broke through walls, tore my hands digging a tunnel, all to save them.
Yet, as first responders arrived, Matthew smirked, accusing me of abandoning them, while Sabrina feigned innocence. They both pointed paramedics away from me, towards their "trapped" daughter.
I fell, impaled by rebar, bleeding out in the rubble, completely alone, as they rescued Sabrina, showering her with concern they never once gave me. They never saw the blood soaking my hands, the growing stain on my abdomen.
Why would they choose her, time and time again, even as I sacrificed everything for them? Why did they leave me to die in a pile of concrete?
They just made a huge mistake. Because my father, Andrew Clark, is about to make them watch exactly how I died. And the truth will shatter their perfect world. The Firm's New Queen
Fantasy I was Evelyn Reed, a senior litigator, standing in my office.
Everything felt chillingly familiar, as if I' d lived this exact moment before.
Because I had.
Just moments ago, I recalled the cold New York air, the city lights blurring in betrayal, as my husband Damien pushed me from our penthouse roof.
He did it after his men had their way with me, a brutal punishment for his lover, Isabelle's, death.
But then, I blinked, and I was back, staring at the exact clock on my desk where my old life began its final, downward spiral.
The doors to our main lobby burst open, and a group of angry, suit-wearing men, the "family" of a pro bono client, stormed in.
They were here because Damien had failed to file a critical injunction, initiating a terrifying lockdown of the entire floor.
When my loyal paralegal tried to call him for help, Damien' s arrogant dismissal over the phone led to him being brutally knocked unconscious.
The bitter irony: he thought he' d silenced me forever, but I was back, a ghost with one singular, burning purpose.
No longer the compliant wife, I would use every lesson from my past demise to orchestrate his downfall, piece by agonizing piece.
This time, he wouldn't just lose; he would suffer. From Cursed Child to Trueborn Scion
Xuanhuan For years, I lived in the hallowed halls of the Blackwood estate, a shadow. My supposed mother, Agnes, systematically siphoned my spiritual energy, gifting it to her own daughter, Claire, who reveled in every stolen blessing. I was the family's "cursed" child, scarred and suffering, my true, ancient Silvercreek power suppressed, biding my time. My life, a lie, a carefully constructed illusion of weakness.
Then came the Founder's Centennial Gala. Agnes, consumed by hubris, decided this was her stage. She orchestrated a twisted plan: publicly declare Claire her biological child, and use me as live bait to lure a mythical beast, the Old Man of the Mountain, to steal its powerful Heartstone for Claire.
I endured the unimaginable: dragged to sacred peaks, brutally mauled, left for dead, then hauled back to the glittering ballroom, bleeding and broken, a grotesque spectacle. Guests gasped, recoiled in disgust. Agnes beamed, ready to deliver her grand, self-serving revelation, believing her triumph was at hand.
They thought me a pitiful, broken creature, a mere pawn in their twisted game. Did they truly believe I had endured decades of torment, of stolen life and power, only for a final humiliation? Did they think my silence was weakness, my downtrodden gaze surrender? I watched and waited.
No. The pain was my fuel, the injustice my fire. As Agnes began her smug confession, I rose, not as a victim, but as a force. The Gala wouldn't be Claire's crowning; it would be the Blackwood family's absolute reckoning. I would unveil every single one of their dark, bloody secrets, starting tonight. You might like
Rejected by the Son, I Chose the Don
Rabbit On my wedding day, my father sold me to the Chicago Outfit to pay his debts. I was supposed to marry Alex Moreno, the heir to the city's most powerful crime family. But he couldn't even be bothered to show up.
As I stood alone at the altar, humiliated, my best friend delivered the final blow. Alex hadn't just stood me up; he had run off to California with his mistress.
The whispers in the cathedral turned me into a joke. I was damaged goods, the rejected bride. His family knew the whole time and let me take the public fall, offering me his cousins as pathetic replacements-a brute who hated me or a coward who couldn't protect me.
The humiliation burned away my fear, leaving only cold rage. My life was already over, so I decided to set the whole game on fire myself. The marriage pact only said a Carlson had to marry a Moreno; it never said which one.
With nothing left to lose, I looked past the pathetic boys they offered.
I chose the one man they never expected.
I chose his father, the Don himself.
Burned by Poison, Saved by the Devil
Gale Kaaya My cousin Hailey paid a dock worker to assault me just to ruin my engagement.
To survive the military-grade aphrodisiac she poisoned me with, I stumbled into a walk-in freezer and threw myself onto the only source of cold I could find-a man paralyzed by unnatural hypothermia.
It was a desperate, primal exchange of my heat for his ice just to keep my heart from stopping.
But when Hailey threw open the heavy iron door, leading my fiancé and the entire Bolton family to witness my "shame," her triumphant grin instantly vanished.
She hadn't caught me with a low-life thug.
She had caught me straddling Demetrius Maddox, the ruthless Iron King of Chicago.
The air in the room dropped to absolute zero. My grandmother screamed in horror, and my father turned the color of ash.
Hailey, blinded by jealousy, tried to double down. She pointed a manicured finger at the deadliest man in the city and called him a "nameless muscle" I picked up to defile the family name.
She didn't realize she had just signed her own death warrant.
I didn't cower. I realized this was the only chance to survive the family that wanted me dead.
I walked up to the Devil himself, my body still humming with the poison, and looked him in the eye.
"Kill me, and the cold inside you wins," I whispered, knowing he was dying from the inverse of my own poison. "I am the only doctor who knows how to cure you."
Demetrius tightened his hand around my throat, his dark eyes assessing my worth.
"Prove it," he growled.
I turned back to my trembling cousin and signaled the enforcer to hand me the whip. Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles
Dorine Koestler I watched my husband sign the papers that would end our marriage while he was busy texting the woman he actually loved.
He didn't even glance at the header. He just scribbled the sharp, jagged signature that had signed death warrants for half of New York, tossed the file onto the passenger seat, and tapped his screen again.
"Done," he said, his voice devoid of emotion.
That was Dante Moretti. The Underboss. A man who could smell a lie from a mile away but couldn't see that his wife had just handed him an annulment decree disguised beneath a stack of mundane logistics reports.
For three years, I scrubbed his blood out of his shirts. I saved his family's alliance when his ex, Sofia, ran off with a civilian.
In return, he treated me like furniture.
He left me in the rain to save Sofia from a broken nail. He left me alone on my birthday to drink champagne on a yacht with her. He even handed me a glass of whiskey—her favorite drink—forgetting that I despised the taste.
I was merely a placeholder. A ghost in my own home.
So, I stopped waiting. I burned our wedding portrait in the fireplace, left my platinum ring in the ashes, and boarded a one-way flight to San Francisco.
I thought I was finally free. I thought I had escaped the cage.
But I underestimated Dante.
When he finally opened that file weeks later and realized he had signed away his wife without looking, the Reaper didn't accept defeat.
He burned down the world to find me, obsessed with reclaiming the woman he had already thrown away. My Husband's Brother Owns My Secret
Rabbit My marriage to Joshua Caldwell was a prison sentence. I was a Hartman trophy, sold to the powerful family who had destroyed mine.
Then I discovered he was cheating. His mistress was pregnant with the child he denied me, and he was stealing my secret song lyrics to build her career. When I confronted him, he called me a spineless liability and threatened to destroy what was left of my family.
To make matters worse, a one-night stand with a stranger turned out to be with my husband's brother, Anthony Caldwell-the Don of the city. He knew all of Joshua's secrets and used them to trap me in a twisted game, seeing me as nothing more than an asset.
They both thought I was a broken doll they could control.
I wrote a song for his mistress, a beautiful execution with a single, impossible note I knew would destroy her voice.
She sang it, and now her career is over.
Now the Don has summoned me to Chicago, not knowing the woman he thinks is his asset is the one who just burned his brother's world to the ground. Mafia Wife's Revenge: Unleashing My Fury
Alfred For five years, I lived a beautiful lie. I was Aliana Hughes, the cherished wife of the city's most feared Mafia Capo and the beloved daughter of the Don. I believed my arranged marriage had blossomed into love.
On my birthday, my husband promised me the amusement park. Instead, I found him there with his other family, celebrating the fifth birthday of the son I never knew he had.
I overheard their plan. My husband called me a "naive fool," a placeholder to legitimize his secret son. The ultimate betrayal wasn't his affair, but the sight of my own father's car parked across the street. My family wasn't just aware; they were the architects of my ruin.
Back home, I found the proof: a secret photo album of my husband's other family posing with my parents, and records showing my father had bankrolled the entire deception. They had even drugged me on weekends so he could play happy family.
The grief didn't break me. It turned into something cold and sharp. I was a ghost in a life that was never mine, and a ghost has nothing to lose.
I copied every damning file onto a USB drive. As they celebrated their perfect day, I sent a courier with my parting gift: a recording of their treachery. While their world burned, I walked toward the airport, ready to erase myself and start over. DON'T TOY WITH ME: SEXIEST MAN OF THE YEAR
LUCHI LUCHY This book contains hot mature scenes and languages. Read at your own risk!
"Ahhh...".
She threw her head back and gasped at the sudden vibrating sensation from her underwear.
"What..what..what was that?"
"A little toy and a bigger one playing with each other".
Antonio replied and pressed the button again.
Angela arched her back at the sweet torment,her fingers digging into the sheets tightly.
"Stop..stop..please,this is bad,my head is spinning..i ...can't..take...it".
Her mouth moved convulsively.
"The setting is still low, you are already so twitchy,your body is just so ready".
He replied dry, watching her face closely.
"Please....".
"Those faces you make...you better stop or I will get hard enough to not hold back".
He replied and increased the speed.
"Haaa...ahhhh..wait...stop ...please".
Angela cried, her eyes bulging,as she fought with herself..her thighs vibrating too.
"Seeing you cry to it is actually more interesting,I should use it often on you..,this is pretty fun".
He pressed the next button.
"Stop please...it keeps grinding on my..clit. so hard.I..think something's coming out...my body...ahhh..I am gonna pee..stop".
"If you do that...well you will explain to the doctor and nurses, how you wetted the sheets, you can do better,just hold it in".
He smirked.
She rubbed her thighs together and bit hard on her lower lip,trying to hold back.
"Let's take it to the next level,shall we?"
She opened her eyes widely,her tongue out salivating.
"No..no..please..no..more...."
Suddenly she felt herself shaking convulsively.
I am at my limits..this is bad..I can't let this pee out...but it's extremely hard,she thought and burst into tears.
"Freckles,I will advise you to save the tears we are just warming up".
He breaks into her thoughts.
"I.. can't..I can't...ahh nghh!"
Her eyes rolled back...
Anthonio watched her intently, a cigar clamped in his teeth,a hand in his pocket and the other with the remote.
He could feel himself hardened. She had that insane effect on him.
"Fuck! I am hard".
He cursed under his breath.
Suddenly the door opened.
"Grandma?"
Angela gasped, tears clouded her eyes as she tried to keep her face straight and voice steady.
*****ADULT CONTENT HERE* read at your own risk!
"No matter the time or place,you will spread your legs for me when I say so,that's my condition,can you do that?"
Angela met his eyes and swallowed convulsively.
"Yes".
Her voice trembled.
Angela, a 24 yrs old and breadwinner of her poor class family was left with no other choice other than to say yes to Mr Antonio inorder to save her nieces.
Antonio Montero of the famous Montero family!
The incredibly handsome, famous idol and young billionaire also known as the sexiest man of his generation.
A toxic playboy with many sex scandals.
Nevertheless, Angela wasn't a fan of his looks or movie roles as most girls including her very own sister, not even in the least in love with him nor he with her.
He got a death wish to grant and she, emotionally blackmailed.
Most girls would die to find themselves in this situation but not Angela...
One year Angela will have her simple life back.
But what will she do if it becomes a life time imprisonment?
There are far many secrets about the Monteros that got her entrapped.
Veils of Thorns
Skar Luca DeLuca was never meant to be a king.
Born into one of the most powerful mafia families, he was raised in the shadows of blood and violence-protected, sheltered, and kept far from the world his father ruled with an iron fist. But when Don Salvatore DeLuca is assassinated, everything changes. The empire his father built is now crumbling, threatened by enemies within and outside the family.
Forced into a throne he never wanted, Luca must learn to navigate a world of betrayal, power, and brutal survival. He isn't a killer. Not yet. But in the mafia, power is earned in blood-and to lead, he must be willing to lose everything, including the last pieces of his soul.
But Luca's battle isn't just against the underworld's deadliest players. It's against himself. As he struggles with the darkness seeping into his veins, a forbidden love threatens to shatter everything. Torn between the woman who makes him feel human and the ruthless empire that demands his loyalty, Luca must decide: Is he willing to sacrifice love for power? Or will love be his greatest weakness?
In a world where trust is a death sentence and mercy is a myth, Luca DeLuca must either rise as a legend or die as a footnote. Tied to the mafia boss
June girl
"I know you want me." Damien said in a deep hoarse voice.
I turned to look at him. "I can never want a ruthless man like you."
"Your eyes are telling a different story Alison." Damien said, taking a step forward.
I took a step backward but Damien had stopped me, his hands traveled across my dress. My breathe hitched in my throat as his hands paused.
"Your body is saying a different story." Damien leaned closer. "You can't resist me Alison."
"I-" my voice cracked. At that moment I realized he was right.
I wanted Damien Santos. Right now. In his room.
***
Alison had it all-wealth, love, and a perfect life-until her conniving stepsister, Mabel, destroyed everything. Framed for infidelity,Alison's husband throws her out of the house, leaving her penniless and homeless.
Just when she hits rock bottom, Alison crosses paths with Damien Santos-a cold and ruthless mafia boss who rules the highlands. Unaware of who he truly is, Alison's brief exchange with him takes an unexpected turn, placing her under his dark, protective shadow.
What starts as a chance encounter quickly spirals into a web of secrets and lies. As Alison uncovers the truth about Damien's identity, she realizes their meeting wasn't accidental. Dark revelations from her past resurface, tying her fate to his in ways she never imagined.
Can Alison reclaim her life, or will she lose herself in the dangerous world Damien has pulled her into?
One Last Bet
Mu Xiaoou The roar of the South Philly sports bar was music to my ears, the cheers for my "Oracle" predictions ringing hollow as I saw the smiling faces of my childhood friends.
Just one week from now, in a life I' d already lived, these same friends would lose everything on my predictions and leave me for dead in a dirty alley.
They' d blame me, screaming King K, the flashy influencer, had called it an hour before I did, beating me until I stopped moving.
Now they pressed me for more "sure things," their greed a mask over the rage I knew was coming, their loyalty as thin as their winnings.
Then my Uncle Leo, the only family I had, intervened, pulling the "exhausted niece" card, a gesture that filled me with relief, even as I felt a pang of guilt for my coldness.
But relief turned to dread when he revealed his "heart condition" and a staggering medical bill, claiming he' d lost all our savings on a "bad tip"-a lie designed to force one last, massive prediction from me.
The betrayal of my previous life faded into the background, eclipsed by the desperate reality of his illness, trapping me into playing the Oracle again.
I poured my soul into the data, finding a perfect, obscure rookie bet, only to see King K post the exact same pick minutes later, confirming a sickening truth: Uncle Leo was leaking my intel.
My blood ran cold when I found the unique Eagles watch I' d given my uncle on King K' s wrist in an old photo, realizing my uncle was not only feeding my analysis to his secret boyfriend but was systematically destroying my reputation to build King K' s brand.
The pieces clicked: it was always planned.
But this time, I was ready.
I cashed out my winning soccer bets (which King K had predictably tried to steal credit for, missing my trap bet entirely), and used every dime on one final, impossible gamble: the "unbeatable" NFL team would lose after their star quarterback suffered a season-ending injury in the first quarter-an event I remembered with horrifying clarity from my past life.
I packed a bag, ready to watch King K, Uncle Leo, and every single soul who had called me a fraud, who had plotted my demise, lose everything and face the loan sharks I knew would be coming. Escaping The Mafia Don's Golden Cage
Xiao Ye I stood over the fresh dirt of my four-year-old son's grave. My husband, the Don of the Stark family, didn't hold my hand for comfort. He only adjusted his cuffs and checked that the diamond necklace he forced on me looked good for the cameras.
"Stop crying," he whispered into my hair. "You're making a scene."
Two days later, I woke up to the sound of shattering glass in the nursery.
A strange boy stood there, smiling over the broken remains of my son's favorite snow globe.
"This is Cody," my mother-in-law said coldly. "He's family. He stays."
When I demanded he leave, Eli looked at me with dead eyes.
"Material things can be replaced, Harper. The boy stays."
Suspicion led me to the library door, where I heard the impossible truth. Cody wasn't a distant cousin. He was Eli's illegitimate son.
And worse—while my son was drowning alone in the pool, Eli hadn't been at a business meeting. He had been in bed with his mistress.
I realized then that the silver bracelet he had gifted me wasn't jewelry. I pried it open and found the blinking red light of a tracker.
I was a prisoner in a cage of gold.
So, I decided to die.
I staged my suicide at the bridge, vanished into the night, and paid a shadow doctor to wipe my memories clean.
I became Avery. I was happy. I was free.
Until six months later, when a man in a black suit walked into my small-town cafe and looked at me with the eyes of a wolf.
"Harper," he growled. "Come home." 
/1/101864/coverorgin.jpg?v=48c4c63a89f2455e4ede83955492aee7&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/86933/coverorgin.jpg?v=0cbe708923fbda177b860004fd913bf7&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/104047/coverorgin.jpg?v=2def8276d16f42845d76e61ef68990ae&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/86865/coverorgin.jpg?v=7e74aaac0d20b465f259fd04d1dc84dd&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/86833/coverorgin.jpg?v=0a9ecde4c97cdb3b4d3a522c114f01c8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/85782/coverorgin.jpg?v=b550975b6e75867bd41cdfa1f285cf5c&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/84563/coverorgin.jpg?v=feecfec326572faf7429e6ee166aabc8&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/83944/coverorgin.jpg?v=9d69c065342c19558648af8e9aa3f9dd&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/83462/coverorgin.jpg?v=c340c65c15e35feae874fba8ea339886&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/83041/coverorgin.jpg?v=6b82e8a668a83ededa5a35180d2f9d9d&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/18728/coverorgin.jpg?v=b1825bdd0989589fb756648cb47b54f2&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/106756/coverorgin.jpg?v=2993ae90a66b7c82c22fce8075ae3fb4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/109835/coverorgin.jpg?v=b38472847e453f71545b2c32809d59f2&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/100248/coverorgin.jpg?v=b1dec4753a5c9ea677f050c0b517bc01&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/106734/coverorgin.jpg?v=c7ef0ae7a01b8941d249a96e5d9ca057&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/96398/coverorgin.jpg?v=3809bf8f2c1a77eb23bb91ea2c0950e4&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/53601/coverorgin.jpg?v=4c76a8d88da1635f7a00e3f6c1003baf&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/74151/coverorgin.jpg?v=2789996154f7d2113aaea3968495b36a&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/71179/coverorgin.jpg?v=4b68adfa26925875d9d3e0bf417ab2a1&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/0/83694/coverorgin.jpg?v=8e50a1720b655a8919411b4da3e88b67&imageMogr2/format/webp)
/1/102623/coverorgin.jpg?v=f32dbc03ae1aca6ebef45427d1e9b24c&imageMogr2/format/webp)