Jeffrey danduan
2 Published Stories
Jeffrey danduan's Books and Stories
The Man You Love Has Someone Else
Romance "Love, Betrayal, and Resilience"
Rea Enero Suwaib's life was turned upside down when her beloved studio on Elvo Street burned down. With her young son in her arms, she hoped to find solace in Markin-the man who had once promised her the world. But when she sees him laughing with another woman, their bond of trust begins to unravel.
As the haunting name "Elvo Street" resurfaces in Markin's plans, Rea's heartbreak deepens. Why would the man who once claimed to love her now pursue the project that symbolizes her loss?
Amid secrets, unanswered questions, and a devastating realization that Markin may have moved on, Rea must confront her shattered dreams. With her son as her anchor, she struggles to decide whether to fight for their place in Markin's life-or let go of the past for good.
A poignant tale of love, betrayal, and resilience, this story delves into the complexities of family and the strength it takes to rebuild after heartbreak.
Does this version capture the emotional depth you're aiming for?
Every Wild Needs Innocent
Romance
Noise and smoke greeted me when the bus door opened. That's it, I'm really here in Manila. I stepped off the bus. The heat of the sun immediately hit my fair skin. For sure, when I seek refuge in the wilderness, I will blush.
Before crossing to the other side, I made sure no cars were passing by until I finally made it across.
I was right. My skin immediately turned red because of the intense sunlight.
"Sister, where is the jeep?" I asked the woman selling coolers.
She turned her eyes to me when I spoke to her.
"You see that mall?" she pointed. I followed her gaze.
I nodded slowly.
"Yes," I said politely.
"Behind that mall, there are jeep parking lots."
"Ahh, is that it? Thank you."
I bought a cooler from her first, then set off.
I was drinking the cooler I bought earlier while walking to the jeep parking lot. I just realized how big Manila is. If you're from the provinces, you'll have a hard time finding parking in Manila.
I reached the jeep parking lot. I stood aside first and did not get in. I took my wallet out of my pocket to check if I still had enough fare for the boarding house.
I only had five hundred pesos left in my wallet. It was only one hundred when I took it out. A strong wind blew.
"Come on!"
Unfortunately, a strong wind blew my money away. In a panic, I quickly tried to pick it up.
"My bad luck!" I said to myself.
I managed to pick up four hundred pesos, but one was missing. I looked for the missing bill. I noticed that the wind kept blowing it towards the middle of the road. Desperate to retrieve the flying money, I suddenly crossed the road without noticing the many passing cars.
"What! Are you trying to kill yourself?!" The jeep driver yelled at me because he almost hit me.
"I'm sorry..." I apologized.
He shook his head before driving off. I turned my eyes back to the bill. I was very grateful it was now on the ground. I immediately stepped on it. But unexpectedly, a car suddenly appeared.
Using my hands, I tried to shield myself, closed my eyes, and waited for the impact.
Beep!!
I thought my life was over. I slowly opened my eyes and immediately noticed the bulky figure in front of me.
"Are you okay?" It was a man's baritone voice.
When I opened my eyes completely, my mouth fell open. A well-built man stood before me. I couldn't help but be amazed at what I saw. He looked like a sculpture, very neat and perfectly carved.
For some unknown reason, my heart started pounding.
"Hey, are you okay?"
I snapped out of my trance when he spoke again, still blinking.
"A-Ah, y-yes. I-I'm fine..." I stammered.
Electricity ran through my whole body when he held my hand to help me stand up.
"Do you feel any pain in your body?" he asked again.
I shook my head. "No. I'm really fine," I assured him so he wouldn't worry.
"Bro, let's go!"
I looked at the car of the man who almost hit me. I noticed another man in the car, wearing shades and looking obviously irritated.
I turned my gaze back to the man in front of me.
"This is my friend's calling card." He handed it to me. I accepted it immediately. "Just call him if you feel any pain in your body."
I nodded slowly.
"Thank you."
"I gotta go!" he said goodbye.
I bowed slightly and smiled as a farewell.
I moved aside because I noticed I was still blocking the road. I watched them until they disappeared from sight.
Later, I looked at the calling card he gave me and read the name written on it.
"Knoxx Cassius Wolverson."
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Jilted Wife Returns As A Billionaire Heiress
Paula Gardini Chloe had just given birth to twins, lying exhausted in a cramped, bustling hospital ward.
When she called her husband, Julian, he was busy partying with his actress mistress. He coldly hung up on her, having already drafted a brutal divorce agreement that would leave her with a pittance.
Strangers in the next bed loudly mocked her pitiful state, gossiping about how Julian was dumping her. For years, Chloe had erased her own identity to fit into his elite world, only to be thrown away like garbage. She was completely alone, clutching her helpless babies, bracing herself to sign the cruel papers just to survive.
She couldn't understand why her absolute devotion was met with such chilling indifference. Why did she have to suffer this ultimate humiliation while he celebrated with the woman who ruined her life?
But then, a senior doctor noticed a unique mole on her wrist and ran a secret DNA test. The results were staggering: Chloe was the long-lost daughter of the billionaire Beaumont family. With her fiercely protective parents and three powerful brothers suddenly forming an impenetrable fortress around her, Chloe picked up her phone and texted her arrogant husband.
"City Hall tomorrow at 10 AM. If you don't show up, my lawyer will handle everything. And trust me, you won't like their terms." The Runaway Wife: Hiding His Secret Triplets
Hen Bu Five years ago, I stood in the freezing rain at my mother's funeral, waiting for my husband.
Blake Knight, the billionaire NHL superstar, was two hours late. When he finally showed up, he brought his rumored girlfriend, the woman he had just rented a hotel rooftop for to celebrate her birthday.
Watching him defend her fake tears, my heart completely died. I took off my diamond wedding ring, placed it on my mother's headstone, and walked away from my marriage forever.
I fled to London, changed my name to Ava, and secretly raised the triplets he never knew existed. I thought I was finally safe from him.
But today, my kids vandalized a silver Aston Martin in our apartment's parking garage, and the owner caught my youngest daughter.
My phone rang. The voice on the other end was Blake's.
He had moved into my building, and he was holding my little girl in his penthouse, demanding her mother come get her immediately.
Panic suffocated me. If I walked through that door, my five years of hiding would be instantly destroyed. He would recognize me, realize I didn't get rid of our child like everyone thought, and he would use all his power to take my babies away.
I couldn't let him ruin my life again.
"I'm just her nanny," I lied through my teeth.
I frantically begged my best friend to go upstairs and rescue my daughter in my place. He bought the disguise, but now, the King of the Ice is dangerously obsessed with investigating my new identity. His Tamed Wife, The Wild Heiress
Whisper 119 She married him out of desperation, becoming the perfect docile wife while he treated her like dirt beneath his shoes. But everything shattered the night she overheard him mocking her with his friends-and discovered the necklace she'd cherished, her only link to the boy who once saved her life, didn't even belong to him.
It was all a lie.
No longer the doormat he married, she discards her fake identity and reclaims her birthright as the hidden heiress of Salvadore City. Now she's on a mission: find the necklace's true owner among his circle of friends, no matter how many hearts she has to break along the way.
But her husband isn't ready to let go. Convinced she's playing games to make him jealous, he's blindsided when divorce papers land in his hands. By the time he realizes the woman he dismissed was never who he thought she was, she's already moved on-living her truth, chasing her destiny, and leaving him choking on regret.
Some cages, once opened, can never be closed again. The Silent Heiress's Million Dollar Gambit
Maui My stepmother’s bodyguards were seconds away from dragging me back to a life that was essentially a prison cell wrapped in silk. I couldn't even scream for help because the words always died in my throat—a clinical condition called selective mutism that felt like drowning on dry land.
I had just discovered the sickening truth: my father was planning to sell me to a sleazy investor named Sterling to cover his company’s bankruptcy. They were going to drug me, ship me off to a private island, and strip away the only thing I had left—my late mother’s multimillion-dollar art trust.
When I arrived at the manor, my stepmother Lydia handed me a glass of wine laced with bitter sedatives, her smile sharp as a razor.
"Drink up, darling. It’ll make the transition to Mr. Sterling much easier."
My stepsister Harper stood in the corner, wearing a dress bought with my mother’s stolen money, mocking my inability to speak. My father didn't even look me in the eye as he calculated my price tag, treating his own daughter like a piece of damaged, mute inventory.
They thought because I didn't speak, I didn't hear them laughing about the "accident" that killed my mother or how they planned to burn her final restoration work. They assumed my silence was a sign of surrender, a white flag waved by a broken girl who would never fight back.
How could the people who were supposed to be my family treat me like a commodity to be traded? Did they really think my silence meant I was weak, or that I didn't know every dirty secret they were hiding in their ledgers?
I didn't drink the wine. Instead, I burst into the VIP suite of Carlisle Pierce, the most cold-blooded billionaire in New York, and slammed a crumpled napkin on his table with a desperate, last-second gambit.
"MARRY ME. NOW. $1 MILLION." The Neglected Wife's Vicious Comeback Game
Xiu Luo On our third anniversary, my husband canceled our dinner, claiming a sudden work emergency.
I tracked his phone to an exclusive French restaurant, only to find him tenderly fastening a blessed bracelet—one I had flown across the world to get for him—onto his college ex-girlfriend's wrist.
The sheer shock triggered a violent placental abruption. Bleeding out in my car just across the street, I frantically called his number. Through the window, I watched him glance at his screen, frown in annoyance, and press decline to focus on his lover. While I was wheeled into a freezing operating room for an emergency C-section utterly alone, he took his mistress back to our marital bed.
He didn't even bother to check if I was alive, completely oblivious that our premature daughter was fighting for her life in the NICU. I soon discovered our entire marriage was a sham. He had used my family's wealth to save his company, and now he was trading me to secure a massive business deal with his ex's father. The man I loved didn't exist; he only saw me as a disposable asset.
"I'm going to make him wish he had never been born."
After secretly securing my baby in a private retreat, I ordered a medical-grade silicone pregnancy belly to hide my flat stomach. I stepped back into our penthouse, ready to burn his precious empire to the ground. Fake Dating the Secret Billionaire Hockey Star
Fallen Nimbus My sister-in-law didn't want me to marry for love.
She wanted me to marry rich-so she could turn my husband into her personal ATM.
So I did the one thing guaranteed to ruin all her plans.
I got myself a broke hockey player.
At least, that's what everyone was supposed to believe.
Beckett Hayes needed a girlfriend badly. The Chicago hockey star had a reputation problem, angry sponsors, and too many headlines painting him as arrogant, reckless, and impossible to settle down. I needed a man convincing enough to stop my family from arranging my future for me.
Our solution was simple: fake date.
His rules were even simpler. Live in his shabby apartment. Help sell the struggling-player act. Smile for the cameras. No real feelings.
Easy.
Until my family showed up to mock the "loser" I'd chosen-and Beckett stepped between us like they had insulted something that belonged to him.
Until he put a no-limit black card in my hand and told me to stop sacrificing my dream of becoming an artist just because I was afraid to spend money.
Until our fake dinners started feeling domestic, his hand started finding mine under the table, and I began forgetting that every protective look and possessive touch was supposed to be part of the contract.
Then Beckett's grandfather arrived at our tiny apartment wearing cashmere, flanked by bodyguards, carrying a priceless Hayes family heirloom for me.
Apparently, pretending to be broke was the easy part.
Pretending I wasn't falling for my fake boyfriend was becoming impossible.
Especially when his grandfather took our only bedroom and left Beckett and me with one pullout sofa, one night, and absolutely nowhere left to hide. While I Was Bleeding Out, He Lit Lanterns For Her
Katie Oettgen As I lay on the floor of our manor, bleeding out from a ruptured ectopic pregnancy, I used my last ounce of strength to call my husband, Cole.
I begged him for help, my vision blurring.
But the only thing I heard was the clinking of champagne glasses and his mistress's giggle in the background.
"Stop the drama, June," Cole snapped, his voice cold. "We're about to go on stage. Don't call again."
He hung up, leaving me to die alone on the Persian rug while he accepted an award with another woman on his arm.
I woke up in the hospital days later. My baby was gone. They had removed my fallopian tube.
Cole finally arrived, smelling of expensive scotch and his mistress's perfume. He didn't hug me. He didn't cry.
Instead, he leaned over my hospital bed, pressing his knee into the mattress until my fresh stitches tore open and bled.
"You embarrassed me by calling an ambulance," he hissed. "My mistress, Alycia, says you're faking it. Clean yourself up."
He left me bleeding again to go announce a $10 million donation to Alycia's "groundbreaking" medical research.
I stared at the TV screen, numb. The research Alycia was taking credit for? It was mine. I wrote that patent years ago under a pseudonym.
They thought I was just a poor, orphan housewife who needed Cole's money to survive.
They had no idea I was actually a billionaire scientist hiding my identity.
I pulled the IV needle out of my arm. A drop of blood fell onto the divorce papers I had been hiding.
I didn't wipe it off. I signed my name right over it.
Then I walked into the bank, reactivated my dormant account with $128 million, and bought the penthouse directly overlooking Cole's house.
The mourning widow is dead. The avenger is born. The Ice Captain's Stolen Fiancée
Jasper Wren I was carefully folding a new silk nightgown, ready to fly to New York and surprise my fiancé of several years, Donald.
Then my phone pinged with a photo from my stepsister, Cindy. It was a high-resolution image of her and Donald, tangled together naked on messy bedsheets.
On his arm was the one-of-a-kind silver bracelet I had custom-designed for his birthday last month.
Cindy was staring right at the camera with a triumphant, provocative smile.
A second message popped up: "Omg, sis, so sorry! Sent that by accident!"
It was a blatant, mocking slap in the face.
Later, I even intercepted a call where Donald laughed with his mother about how my declining family was just a worthless stepping stone for them.
He called me a "boring, good girl" who was easy to manage, bragging that he would just go back to having his fun with Cindy right after our wedding.
They really thought I was just a naive fool who would either come crying to him or quietly swallow this humiliating betrayal.
They thought my silence meant I was weak and defeated.
But I didn't shed a single tear, nor did I scream.
A cold, sharp anger shot up my spine, extinguishing every last ember of heartbreak.
I threw the silk nightgown into the trash, opened my laptop, and used my MIT computer science background to hack straight into their luxury hotel suite's smart system.
I wasn't going to New York to cry.
I was going to broadcast their filthy affair to the entire city at the most prestigious charity gala of the year. Betrayed Heiress: Marrying The Hockey King
Gu Chen I gave up my college dreams and spent every penny I had to support my boyfriend Boyce's NHL ambitions.
But as I lay dying in a damp hospital room, I called him begging for treatment money, only to hear his new girlfriend laughing on the line.
Boyce coldly called me a useless "Puck Bunny" and a convenient ATM before hanging up.
Moments later, his new girl Beryl called back to deliver a truth that shattered my reality.
"Do you know how you got sick? It wasn't an accident."
Boyce had deliberately arranged for me to be infected with HIV.
He thought I was too clingy, and this was the easiest way to get rid of me so he could chase his hockey dreams without baggage.
Just before I took my last breath, a man arrived to save me, sent by Case Hoover-a wealthy fiancé from an old family arrangement I had completely forgotten.
The irony was crushing. I had destroyed my life serving a monster who murdered me, while my actual fiancé tried to protect me.
I died in excruciating agony, my soul held together by nothing but pure, bottomless hatred.
Why was I so blind? Why did I give everything to a man with a heart blacker than a starless night?
Opening my eyes, I gasped for air, finding myself staring at my healthy, eighteen-year-old reflection in the mirror.
I was reborn in my senior year of high school.
This time, I wouldn't be his stepping stone; I was going to make him pay the ultimate price. Shielded By The Ruthless Military Boss
Mo Yufei I was an intern nurse working exhausting shifts, yet my mother constantly forced me into blind dates with wealthy, arrogant men to secure our family's social standing.
During a terrifying hospital lockdown, an assassin disguised as a doctor held a scalpel to my throat. I was almost killed, but a high-ranking military colonel threw his own body down a flight of concrete stairs to shield me.
I survived with cuts and bruises, but when I went home, my mother didn't care about my near-death experience. She was only furious that I had rushed out on my blind date with Preston, a rich financial analyst.
She forced me to meet him to apologize. When Preston grabbed my arm, bruised me, and mocked my attack as a pathetic lie, my mother still took his side.
"Men get angry," she told me coldly. "It's your job not to provoke them. You will beg for his forgiveness, or you are no longer welcome in this house."
I had narrowly escaped an assassin, yet my own family was willing to feed me to a monster just for a fat paycheck and neighborhood gossip.
My heart went completely dead.
So, when the intimidating Colonel appeared, offering me maximum military protection through a sudden marriage, I didn't hesitate.
I walked back into my parents' house and calmly slapped a crisp marriage certificate onto the coffee table.
"I won't be apologizing to Preston. I got married today."