Gavin
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Gavin's Books and Stories
Ten Years a Ward
Modern For ten years, I secretly loved my guardian, Ethan Hayes. After my family fell apart, he took me in and raised me. He was my entire world.
On my eighteenth birthday, I gathered all my courage to confess my love to him.
But his reaction was a fury I had never seen before. He swept my birthday cake to the floor and roared, "Are you insane? I am your GUARDIAN!"
He then mercilessly tore the painting I had spent a year on-my confession-to shreds.
Just days later, he brought home his fiancée, Chloe.
The man who had promised to wait for me to grow up, who called me his brightest star, had vanished. My decade of desperate, burning love had only managed to burn myself.
The person who was supposed to protect me had become the one who hurt me the most.
I looked down at the NYU acceptance letter in my hand. I had to leave. I had to pull him out of my heart, no matter how much it hurt.
I picked up the phone and dialed my father's number.
"Dad," I said, my voice hoarse, "I've decided. I want to come be with you in New York." The Empress Who Buries Her Past
Modern I sacrificed my womb and my youth to build Alec' s architectural empire from the shadows.
He repaid me by bringing his mistress, Billie, to frame me for plagiarism and destroy my reputation.
When my father suffered a massive heart attack, Billie used her influence to block his life-saving surgery.
Alec held my dying father' s life hostage, forcing me to my knees in front of the woman who ruined me.
"Apologize to her, Cydney," he commanded, "or I pull the plug."
I begged. I scraped my dignity off the floor. But they let my father die anyway.
Discarded and humiliated, I vanished in a plane crash, leaving only a wedding ring in a landfill.
Years later, at a global summit, Alec watched his company crumble under the attacks of a ruthless new rival.
He grabbed the woman in the emerald dress, his hands trembling as he recognized the eyes he thought were gone forever.
"Cydney? You're alive?"
I smiled, cold as ice.
"Ms. Frazier is dead, Alec. I' m the one who' s going to bury you." He Traded A Diamond For Cheap Glass
Mafia I was the "Ice Queen," the perfect Mafia wife who managed the De Luca empire's millions while my husband, Alessandro, played the part of the feared Underboss.
I thought my silence and competence earned me respect.
That was until I woke up in the estate's medical bay with a shattered leg.
My saddle had snapped mid-jump. It wasn't wear and tear; it was sabotage.
Lying in the dark, feigning sleep, I heard Alessandro whispering outside my door with his enforcer.
"The buckle was filed down," the enforcer said urgently. "Aria tampered with it. She could have broken her neck."
I waited for Alessandro’s rage. I waited for him to execute the mistress who tried to kill his wife.
Instead, his voice was cold and dismissive.
"Bury it," Alessandro ordered. "It’s just a broken leg. Aria was upset about the credit cards. She just wanted to teach Katarina a lesson."
A lesson.
My husband wasn't just cheating on me; he was protecting the woman who tried to cripple me.
Three days later, at the Family Charity Gala, he humiliated me publicly. He outbid me for my grandmother's heirloom necklace and clasped it around Aria's neck while I watched from my wheelchair.
He thought I was broken. He thought I was just a piece of furniture to be rearranged.
He didn't know I had bugged the entire villa while I was recovering.
He didn't know I had the recordings of what Aria was really doing when he wasn't looking.
I gripped the USB drive in my pocket and signaled the tech team to lock the doors.
The statue was broken, but he was about to learn that shattered ice is sharp enough to slit a throat. Stranded For His Fake Sister
Romance My fiancé kicked me out of his car on a deserted highway because his "sister" Krystle claimed her car had broken down.
He drove off with her and her daughter, leaving me stranded in the scorching heat without a backward glance.
While I trudged for miles through the dust, Krystle posted a video of him at the gala, captioning it "My Hero" as they laughed together under the fireworks.
I realized then that I was never his partner, just a placeholder he could discard the moment Krystle snapped her fingers.
I didn't cry, and I didn't call him to beg for an explanation.
Instead, I returned to our shared penthouse and took a pair of heavy tailoring shears to my custom wedding dress.
I shredded the delicate lace until it was nothing but a pile of ruined scraps on the floor, destroying the future we were supposed to have.
Then I blocked his number, packed my life into a single suitcase, and vanished.
By the time he realized Krystle had staged the breakdown to destroy us, I was already gone.
Three years later, he found me again-but I wasn't the same woman he left on the side of the road. The Abandoned Wife And Her Secret Heir
Modern I was staring at a high-resolution photo of my husband burying his face in another woman’s neck when his text came through.
"Pizza or Thai?"
He wasn't just cheating. The photos showed him playing house with a woman named Serena and a little boy who had his exact nose.
He had told me he wasn't ready for children, yet here he was, giving his world to a secret family.
When I confronted them at his company gala, Serena didn't apologize.
She smirked, ripped the wedding ring off my finger, and shoved me hard.
I hit the floor with a sickening crunch. Pain exploded in my stomach.
"Help me," I gasped, clutching my belly. "My baby."
Michael looked at me. Then he looked at Serena and the boy.
He made his choice.
He turned his back on his bleeding, pregnant wife and escorted his mistress out the emergency exit to avoid a scandal.
He left me there to die.
He didn't know that the "son" he was protecting was a rental—a prop Serena hired to trap him.
And he didn't know that the baby he left to die on the gallery floor was the only real child he would ever have.
I didn't go home to cry.
I sent him a receipt for a cremation service for "Baby Boy Hayes," withdrew half our savings, and vanished.
He thinks he's free.
He has no idea I'm still alive, and I’m taking his real son with me. Too Late, Mr. CEO: You Lost Her
Modern I sold my cameras and lenses—everything that defined me—to buy the first servers for my husband’s startup.
Fifteen years later, on my birthday, Dustin left me alone to celebrate with his new assistant, Jami.
When I confronted him about the affair, he didn't apologize. He threw a fifty-thousand-dollar check at me and told me to buy something pretty.
But the betrayal didn't stop there. Jami broke into our safe and stole my late mother's vintage sapphire ring.
When I tried to take it back, she snapped the eighty-year-old gold band in half.
I slapped her. In response, my husband shoved me hard.
My head cracked against the solid oak nightstand. Blood poured down my face, staining the rug I had picked out.
Dustin didn't call an ambulance. He didn't even check my pulse.
He stepped over my bleeding body to comfort his mistress because she was "stressed."
When his parents found out, they didn't care about my injury. They came to where I was hiding, accused me of being clumsy, and threatened to leave me with nothing if I ruined the family image.
They forgot one crucial detail: I was the one who designed, coded, and installed the penthouse's smart security system.
I had synced every camera to my private cloud before I walked out.
I had the video of him assaulting me. I had the audio of him admitting to fraud.
And I had my father on speed dial—the man who owned the bank holding all of Dustin's loans.
I looked at his terrified parents and pulled up the footage on the TV.
"I don't want your money," I said, my finger hovering over the 'Send' button to the District Attorney. "I want to watch him burn." His Unwanted Mate: The White Wolf Awakens
Werewolf For five years, I suppressed my Royal White Wolf bloodline to be Sam’s "Chosen Mate," waiting for a Mark that never came. I cut ties with my powerful family, accepting a paper certificate instead of a soul bond, all because I loved him.
But my sacrifice meant nothing. Sam brought his mistress, Lily, and a child into our pack house, forcing me to accept them. He claimed the child was his because I was "barren," humiliating me to protect his fragile ego.
The betrayal turned deadly over breakfast. Lily laced my food with Wolfsbane, then slashed her own chest to frame me. When Sam rushed in, he didn't check the facts. He pinned me against the wall by my throat, ignoring my swelling airways as the poison took hold.
"If she dies, you die."
He threw me to the floor like garbage and rushed his mistress to the hospital, leaving me to suffocate alone. I had to crawl to my room, clawing at the floor tiles, to reach the antidote my father had given me years ago. As I retched up the toxin, the last of my love for him was purged along with it.
I stood up and walked to the backyard rose garden—the symbol of our marriage. I doused it in gasoline and struck a match.
Before the Royal Guards arrived to take me home, I pinned a rejection letter to the front door with a dagger.
"I reject you, Sam. And by the way, check your old medical files. You’re the one who is sterile." My Brother's Betrayal, My Lover's Lies
Modern I thought my life was perfect. I had a loving boyfriend of five years, Jaxon, and was getting ready to celebrate my brother Hanson' s wedding. I even picked out the perfect cream-colored dress for the rehearsal dinner.
But that perfect world shattered when I found Jaxon in the parking garage, tangled up with my brother' s fiancée, Karla. They had been having an affair for three years.
When I tried to expose them, they twisted the story, painting me as a jealous liar trying to ruin the wedding.
My own brother, Hanson, believed them. He slapped me across the face, his eyes filled with hate.
"You stay away from this wedding," he snarled. "If you try to ruin this, I swear, I will make you regret it."
Jaxon just stood there, choosing his mistress over me, watching as my own family turned on me.
They thought they had broken me, casting me out as the crazy, unstable sister.
But as I fled that night, I made a vow.
They would all pay. And I would be the one to collect. The Rejected Healer: Her Rise as the White Wolf
Werewolf I carried a thermal container of stew to my fiancé's private estate, worried he was stressed about our upcoming pack merger.
Instead of a meditation retreat, I walked into a nightmare.
Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, I saw Ivan playing on the rug with a secret son, while a woman named Kiera watched like a queen.
I froze as I heard Ivan's voice float through the glass.
"Aliana is just a placeholder. She smells like antiseptic and fear. Once I get the territory, I'll reject her."
My heart shattered, but the knife twisted deeper when he laughed about my parents.
"Her folks pay for this villa, Kiera. They know. They prefer a strong alliance over a disappointment of a daughter."
My own parents were drugging me to steal my medical patents. They thought I was weak. They thought I was just a submissive Healer.
I wiped my tears and unlocked his safe with the admin codes he forgot I installed.
I took the financial records, the fake DNA tests, and the theft agreements.
That night, at his secret son's birthday party, I didn't bring a gift.
I brought a projector.
I played their confession for the entire Council, severed the mate bond publicly, and vanished into the North.
Six months later, a ruined, homeless Ivan crawled into my clinic, begging for the legendary White Wolf to save him.
He looked up, shocked to see me standing there, glowing with silver power.
"You rejected the gift of the Goddess," I smiled, letting my Alpha aura crush him to the floor. "Now, get out." Saved By The Ruthless Rival Don
Mafia For nine years, I was the perfect mafia wife. I laundered Marcus Thorne’s money through my design firm, smiled at his dinners, and ignored the lipstick stains on his collars.
I believed in the Omertà of our marriage. I thought my loyalty was my armor.
I was wrong.
On the night of our anniversary gala, a car lost control and barreled straight toward us in the parking lot.
Marcus didn't look at me. Not once.
He lunged for his mistress, Izzy, tackling her to safety behind a concrete pillar.
I was left standing in the open.
The impact threw me like a ragdoll. I lay bleeding on the cold asphalt, my body broken, watching through the haze as my husband frantically checked his mistress for scratches.
"My ankle," she whimpered.
Without a backward glance, he picked her up and carried her to his limousine, leaving me to bleed out on the pavement.
He didn't leave me because he panicked. He left me because I was just a shield he used to protect what he actually loved.
As darkness crept in, a shadow fell over me. It wasn't Marcus.
It was Julian Croft, his sworn rival.
I looked at the empty spot where my husband should have been and made a choice.
"Get me to the hospital," I rasped, staring into the eyes of the enemy.
"And then help me burn his empire to the ground." Her Vengeance Rises From The Asylum
Modern I walked into the luxury boutique on Fifth Avenue, the air conditioning chilling my skin.
There she was-Alivia, my adopted sister-swiping my husband' s Black Card for her wedding dress.
Three years ago, she tampered with the neonatal equipment during my home birth, suffocating my newborn son.
Then she told everyone I was a drug addict who killed my own baby in a hallucination.
My husband, Carter, didn't just believe her; he locked me in a high-security psychiatric facility in Nevada to "fix" me.
For three years, I rotted in isolation while she took my life, my husband, and paraded a child that wasn't even his as the Fletcher heir.
Even my parents sided with her, protecting their image over their own daughter's sanity.
They think I' m still the fragile socialite who would crumble under their gaslighting.
They think I' m here to beg for forgiveness.
I pulled a silver flash drive from my clutch and stepped into the light.
"Shopping for a wedding dress, Alivia?" I whispered, my voice cutting through her laughter.
"I hope it goes well with the forensic report proving you murdered my son."
The game is over, Carter.
I' m not here to reconcile.
I' m here to burn your empire to the ground. Too Late For Your Forgiveness Now
Modern My throat was closing up, anaphylactic shock setting in from the peanuts my half-sister, Kecia, had hidden in the macaron.
But Jonathan didn't call 911.
He rolled his eyes, called me "dramatic," and handed Kecia my late mother's vintage Cartier bracelet-the one heirloom I had left-just to comfort her.
I woke up in the ER alone, only to find my father had sold me off to save his company.
I was forced to marry Gage Sawyer, the "Sleeping Prince," a man rumored to be in a permanent vegetative state.
Jonathan stayed with Kecia, believing her lie that she was his childhood savior.
He didn't know I was the one who saved him years ago. He didn't care that she tried to kill me.
But on my wedding day, as I stood by the altar ready to sign my life away, my comatose groom suddenly squeezed my hand.
Gage Sawyer was wide awake, and he wanted revenge just as much as I did.
When Jonathan finally learned the truth and crashed the wedding begging for forgiveness, I looked him dead in the eye.
"You're trespassing, Mr. Chavez."
"I'm Mrs. Sawyer now." His Sacred Promise, My Stolen Dreams
Modern My fiancé, Ethan, insisted we use our life savings-the money for our dream architectural firm-to buy a house for his widowed friend, Kiera. He called it a sacred promise. I called it betrayal.
After weeks of fighting, I discovered the truth. He hadn't been asking for my permission; he had already emptied our joint account two months ago.
A photo confirmed it: him and Kiera, toasting with champagne, celebrating the day he stole our future. He then had the nerve to ask me to design her new house for free.
When I finally confronted him, he chose to believe her fake pregnancy and her staged fall, calling me a "monster" as he rushed her to the hospital.
He didn't just take our money; he stole my voice and painted me as the villain in his story.
So while he played the hero for her, I quietly canceled our wedding, sold our assets, and booked a one-way ticket to a new life. He thought he was breaking me, but he was setting me free. My Heart, His Spare Part
Modern My bodyguard, Grant, took the full force of a speeding car meant for me. In that moment, I realized I loved him. He was my protector, and I thought his fierce devotion was mine alone.
But in the hospital, I overheard the truth. He hadn't saved me; he'd saved my kidney.
I wasn't the woman he loved. I was just the "best option" for his sick sister's transplant.
Every tender gesture, every watchful glance, was a lie designed to keep his organ donor safe and compliant. The man I adored saw me as nothing more than a collection of spare parts.
The love I thought we shared was a carefully constructed trap, and I had been the fool who walked right in.
The girl who believed in fairy tales died in that sterile hospital hallway. I picked up my phone, my hand steady.
"Dad," I said, my voice cold as ice. "I'm ready to consider the alliance with the Powell family." My Faked Death, His Endless Torment
Modern I was dying from a mysterious illness, but my family, including my fiancé King, dismissed me as a drama queen. At my adopted sister Isabel' s promotion party, my body finally gave out and I collapsed, coughing up blood.
Instead of helping, King accused me of ruining Isabel's big night. He tore up my terminal diagnosis report right in front of me, sneering that I'd do anything for attention.
Completely broken, I annulled our engagement and fled to a rundown motel to die alone. But Isabel found me. With a triumphant smile, she confessed everything-she had been slowly poisoning me for years, a plot to steal my health, my family's love, and King himself.
She had no idea her entire monstrous confession was being recorded by a device left in the room.
I sent that audio file to everyone and, with the help of a kind stranger, faked my own death. Years later, I had a new life, a new name, and a quiet peace I never thought possible. Then one day, a broken, haunted man walked into my seaside café, clutching a faded photo of me.
It was King. Discarded Princess, Reclaimed Crown
Modern For seven years, I traded my crown for a quiet life with the man I loved, Harrison. I gave up my kingdom, my family, and my name, believing our love was enough.
But on our son Colt's fifth birthday, he publicly announced his engagement to a pregnant socialite, calling their unborn child his "true heir."
His mother then stormed into our home, calling my son a "mistake" and a "stain" that needed to be cleansed before her son's new life could begin.
My little boy, his heart shattered, looked up at me.
"Mama," he whispered, "am I really a mistake?"
That's when I remembered I wasn't just a discarded wife. I was a princess who had given up her throne. I picked up the phone and called my father, the king.
"I'm coming home," I told him. "And I'm bringing your grandson." Unwanted by Him, Chosen by the Stronger Alpha
Werewolf I was the Pack’s shame, a twenty-year-old "Runt" who had never shifted. Yet, I clung to the desperate hope that Alpha Marcus, the man I had loved my entire life, would finally claim me at the Full Moon Gala.
Instead, he stood before the entire Pack with Izzy, a woman who looked at him with hunger rather than love. With eyes as cold as stone, he didn't just ignore me; he destroyed me.
"I, Marcus Thorne, reject you, Olivia Hayes."
The rejection snapped our bond, but the nightmare was just beginning. When Izzy framed me for poisoning her, Marcus didn't hesitate. He chained me in the dungeon and wielded the silver whip himself. Each lash burned like liquid fire, tearing through my skin as he demanded a confession I couldn't give.
I woke up in a pool of my own blood, only to hear the nurse whisper the truth I was never meant to know.
The silver toxicity hadn't just broken my body; it had killed the unborn pup I didn't even know I was carrying.
Marcus had whipped the mother of his own child to protect a liar. He had killed his heir for a woman who was faking her own pregnancy.
That night, as I crawled through the mud to escape, the weak Runt died. In the freezing waters of the river, my bones snapped and reshaped. I didn't just shift; I became the legendary White Wolf.
And when Marcus finally realized the truth and came begging on his knees, I looked at him with my new, violet eyes and prepared to give him the rejection he deserved. The Unfortunate Card of Lies
Modern For ten years, I waited for my childhood sweetheart, Adonis, to marry me. But every year, our future was delayed by a ridiculous family ritual where he had to draw a "Fortunate" tarot card. For three years, he drew the "Unfortunate" card, enduring brutal penance that left him scarred and broken. I believed it was fate.
Then, on the fourth year, I saw him draw the Fortunate card. My heart soared. We were finally free. But in a swift, practiced move, he swapped it for an Unfortunate one, choosing more suffering. I was frozen in shock.
Later, I overheard him confess to his cousin. He' d been swapping the cards for four years. He couldn't marry me yet because of his assistant, Ariel. She' d threatened to do something drastic if he left her. He said he owed her.
My world shattered. Every lash he took, every moment of pain I shared, was a lie. A charade performed for another woman. He had chosen his guilt for her over his love for me.
He even accused me of monstrous cruelty based on her lies, shouting, "I can't believe I wasted ten years on someone so vindictive. Apologize to Ariel. Now."
That was the moment I knew the man I loved was gone. So, I left. I flew to Hong Kong and married another man.
But just as I found my new beginning, Adonis burst in, his eyes wild with regret, begging me to come back. And right behind him was Ariel, her face twisted with madness, a gleaming knife in her hand. The Surgeon's Cold, Calculated Resolve
Modern My husband, Clark, gave me a choice: save the mother of the woman who killed my own, or he would destroy my sister's life.
He held a fabricated video over my sister Anissa's head, a cruel lie that would ruin her future. I performed the surgery, saving the life of my enemy's mother, but the blackmail drove Anissa to take her own life.
When I confronted him, he didn't just break my heart. He had his Dobermans maul my hands, the ten-million-dollar hands that had saved countless lives, shattering the bones and ending my career forever.
He then threw me out, leaving me for dead on a deserted road after I was brutally attacked.
I had lost my mother, my sister, and my life's work, all at the hands of the man who swore to love and protect me, the man I once saved on the operating table.
But as I lay in a hospital bed for the last time, a cold, calculated resolve settled deep in my bones. I made a single phone call to a man from my past.
"Apollo," I whispered, my voice raw but steady. "I'm ready. I want him destroyed. Every last piece of him."