Jia Zhong
8 Published Stories
Jia Zhong's Books and Stories
My Cold Heart: Rejecting The Mafia Boss
Mafia My husband, the Outfit’s most feared Consigliere, stood up and buttoned his suit jacket.
He had just convinced a jury that Sofia Moretti was innocent.
But we both knew the truth: Sofia had poisoned my mother over a spilled martini on her Valentino dress.
Instead of comforting me, Dante looked at me with cold, dead eyes.
"If you make a scene," he whispered, gripping my arm until it bruised, "I will bury you in a psychiatric ward so deep even God won't find you."
To protect the Family alliance, he sacrificed his wife.
When I tried to fight back, he drugged me at a gala.
He let a private investigator take photos of me, naked and unconscious, just to have leverage to keep me silent.
He paraded Sofia around our penthouse, letting her wear my dead mother’s shawl while I was banished to the staff quarters.
He thought he had broken me.
He thought I was just a nurse’s daughter he could manage.
But he made a fatal error.
He didn't read the "committal forms" I handed him to sign.
They were divorce papers, transferring his assets to me.
And the night of the yacht party, while he toasted to his victory with my mother's killer, I left my wedding ring on the deck.
I didn't jump to die.
I jumped to be reborn.
And when I resurfaced, I made sure Dante Russo burned for every sin. The Dying Billionaire's Secret Contract Wife
Romance I stood in the ballroom of the Plaza Hotel, clutching a crystal flute of champagne that felt like a lead weight. It was my engagement party, the night I was supposed to be the happiest woman in New York.
Then my phone buzzed with a link that shattered everything. I watched a video of my fiancé, Jed, tangled in the arms of my roommate while he laughed about how I was just a "boring, safe little girl" he needed to tolerate until my family's stock transfer went through.
When I confronted him and walked out, I thought the nightmare was over, but my own father called me in a rage. He didn't care that I’d been betrayed; he only cared that the merger was the only thing keeping him from bankruptcy. He froze my bank accounts and left me with exactly forty-two dollars to my name.
Jed started sending me threats, promising to leak private videos to the press if I didn't come back to him. I was penniless, homeless, and being hunted by a man who wanted to destroy my soul.
Desperate, I took the only deal left on the table: a contract marriage to Hardin Hunter, a reclusive billionaire heir with terminal heart failure. The deal was simple: ten million dollars to be a "nurse with a ring" for six months until he passed away.
I signed the papers and moved into his gothic manor, expecting to wait for a heart to stop beating. But when Hardin pinned me against a wall, his grip like iron and his pulse thundering with a strength no dying man should possess, I realized the "dying" heir was a lie.
"You're not dying," I whispered, feeling the raw power of his heart against my hand.
Hardin just looked at me with eyes like molten glass and said, "I might be a monster, Elsie, but I'm the only one who can keep you alive." Abandoned By My Hero, Reborn Stronger
Modern For years, I was the orphan girl hopelessly in love with my guardian, Jordan. He was my protector, my entire world, the man who promised he would always keep me safe.
Then he announced his engagement to Gwyneth Duran, a woman who saw me as a rival to be crushed.
One night, he stumbled home drunk, mistook me for her, and forced a kiss on me. But when he woke up the next morning, he looked at me with pure disgust.
"I know what you're doing," he spat. "Trying to worm your way into my life. Stay away from me."
His fiancée slapped me, calling me a slut, and his parents, believing their lies, threw me out with nothing. The man who had been my hero now saw me as something vile.
With my heart shattered, I made one last call.
"Aunt Diana? I'm coming to Chicago."
From now on, he and I are nothing but strangers. Five Years of His Lies
Modern For five years, I tolerated my husband Franklyn' s cheating. My only condition was simple: keep it out of my sight.
Then his college crush, Heaven, came back. He didn't just parade her around-he stole the community center I designed in memory of our late son and gave it to her as a gift.
When photos of their affair were leaked at her launch event, he shielded her from the cameras and pointed the finger at me. He told the world I was an unstable, grieving wife who was having an affair.
He forced me to publicly confess, shattering my reputation. Then he came home and told me Heaven was pregnant and that I needed to move out of our penthouse to give her a "calm environment."
"You know how much you care for children, Clara," he said, using my deepest pain against me.
That night, I signed the divorce papers. At the airport, as he screamed my name from behind the security gate, I calmly pulled the SIM card from my phone, dropped it in the trash, and boarded the plane. A Twisted Love, A Dark Ritual
Horror The box arrived on a Tuesday, innocent enough, addressed to me, Ethan Miller, in my college buddy Liam' s messy handwriting.
Inside, though, tucked among wood shavings, were human ribs. Unmistakably.
My stomach churned, the horror escalating when I found Liam' s note, claiming these macabre remains were from his "weight loss surgery" and I had to make bone broth for "spiritual closure."
It was sick, insane, but what do you do when your friend sends you human bones and asks you to make soup?
So I did what any horrified person in the 21st century would do: I posted it on a niche online forum, only to receive a chilling private message: "It' s a ritual. Soul Swap. They' re trying to take your body. DON' T DO IT."
My blood ran cold, the warning echoing as I stared at the bones. I couldn' t throw them away; I had to dispose of them discreetly.
A desperate plan formed: I' d feed the human ribs to the sanctuary bull, fake the soup with beef bones, and send Liam the video.
But my girlfriend, Sarah, suddenly developed an unsettling interest in my "bone broth," and a new message from my anonymous guide arrived: "They know you' re thinking of tricking them. The vessel must consume the offering willingly. If you fake it, they will know. The consequences will be worse. Be careful who you trust. Even those closest to you."
Watching Sarah hum over the simmering pot, a horrifying truth began to dawn on me: the people closest to me might be the ones I should fear the most. The Husband's Deadly Game
Horror I was just days from my due date, nesting in our Bay Area home, full of anticipation for the arrival of our child with my beloved husband, Ethan.
Without warning, I woke up blindfolded, hands bound, struggling for air in a damp, cold forest, my heavily pregnant body pressed painfully against the earth.
Over hidden speakers, I heard Ethan's voice, transformed from loving husband to callous ringmaster, casually discussing a brutal "performance art" with his mistress, Chloe, and acknowledging my water had broken.
He then ordered agonizing electric shocks, bet ten million dollars on my death, and unleashed vicious dogs before I was dragged to a makeshift table for a forced C-section, sans anesthesia, all for their twisted amusement.
How could the man who once wore a simple silver locket, a symbol of our shared journey from nothing, now orchestrate such monstrous betrayal, turning his pregnant wife and our unborn child into pawns in a deadly, public spectacle?
After enduring unimaginable tortures and surviving a coma, I miraculously awakened, not to forgive, but to ensure that the man who stole my child and desecrated my love would face consequences, and I would finally find a fragile peace far from his shadow. After Saving Him, He Condemned Me
Romance I was a successful Chicago paramedic, seeking peace from city trauma, when I saved Ethan Caldwell, the charming heir to a Northern California empire. He promised a quiet life, true love, and soon, I was pregnant with our son. My future felt perfect.
But this gilded cage harbored a sinister core. His icy mother, Eleanor, and his seductive sister-in-law, Veronica, resented me, plotting to erase my happiness.
I discovered Ethan and Veronica locked in a scandalous embrace, and that same day, an excruciating pain ripped through me – I lost our child.
Instead of comfort, I faced unspeakable cruelty: they callously denied me proper medical care, ushering me to an ill-equipped local clinic, leading to my baby's tragic stillbirth.
Then, they forced a drug upon me, designed to steal my fertility forever.
They brazenly framed me for poisoning Veronica, publicly shaming me, with Ethan blindly believing their every lie.
The ultimate horror struck when Veronica flaunted a chilling jade pendant, casually revealing it was crafted from our son's ashes, a grotesque desecration.
My husband, the man who vowed to protect me, saw none of their evil nor my innocence.
He watched, complicit, as they conspired to commit me to a remote mental institution, believing their manufactured narrative of my "insanity."
How could the man I loved be so utterly blind, so heartlessly callous?
But even as they dragged me into the night, a hidden text from my Chicago lawyer ignited a fierce fire within me.
This wasn't the end of me; it was the explosive start of my calculated, ruthless reckoning against them all. 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.
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. Reborn From Fire: The Ex-wife's Revenge
Lunacy Heidi gripped the sterile hospital bedsheets as violent contractions ripped her body apart.
The heavy door opened, but it wasn't the doctor. It was Brigette, wearing the exact custom wedding dress Heidi had spent six months designing for herself.
Brigette held up her phone on speaker. When the doctor warned that a natural delivery would kill the mother, Christian Page's voice echoed through the room, ice-cold and devoid of any warmth.
"Prioritize the Page heirs. Let her die."
The man she loved had just signed her death warrant over the phone.
Brigette stole her newborn twins, dragged her to an abandoned warehouse, and poured gasoline over her bare legs.
Flicking a lit cigar into the puddle, Brigette left Heidi tied to an iron pillar to burn alive.
But as the flames formed a deadly circle around her, Heidi's body convulsed with a terrifying truth.
In the heart of the blazing inferno, she miraculously gave birth to two more babies she didn't know she was carrying.
Using her own back as a human shield against the falling embers, she survived the fire, but the ultimate betrayal burned deeper than her ruined skin.
Four years later, Heidi returned to New York with a reconstructed face, two brilliant children, and a terrifying new identity as the world's top underground surgeon.
When Christian, entirely unaware of who she was, signed a waiver begging her to save his dying grandfather's life, Heidi looked into his desperate eyes with absolute, clinical boredom.
"The game starts now," she said coldly. Mafia Betrayal: Her Escape From Darkness
Meng Xinyu The Maybach glided through rain, Dante's cold cedar cologne a familiar comfort. Seven years, my life revolved around him, my fingers on his suit cuff, a silent promise. But tonight, our normal shattered with a single phone call.
He answered, speaking rapid Italian – a language he thought I didn't understand. Every word: a death knell. Confirming his engagement to Sofia Moretti, dismissing me as a 'consolation prize.'
Seven years of loyalty vanished. His loving mask back, he left for his fiancée. I stumbled into freezing rain, recalling my foster past. My numb fingers dialed his mother, Isabella, demanding fifty million for my silence. Her insults didn't sting.
The true gut punch: Sofia's Instagram, a prenup on Dante's desk, proudly showing *my* watch, captioned: 'Fourteen days left.' This wasn't their celebration; it was my death sentence.
I wouldn't stay another day in this gilded cage. My old duffel bag, packed, waited. The Australia brochure, a childhood dream, in my pocket. This time, I would live for myself, and they would all pay. He Betrayed Me, Now He Begs
C.D For seven years, I was the architect of my fiancé's criminal empire and the strategist behind his every move. I was Dante Gallo’s unofficial Consigliere, his partner in everything but name. Tomorrow, I was finally supposed to marry him and take my place as the queen to his throne.
But on the eve of our wedding, a single text message sent by mistake detonated my life. It was a photo from Dante, showing a platinum wedding band on his hand. The message read: “Married this morning. She’s safe now.”
My gaze fell to the engagement ring on my own finger. It was the identical band, just smaller. The engraved initials ‘D.I.’ didn’t stand for Dante and I. They stood for Dante and Isabella—his childhood sweetheart. My entire relationship was a lie; I was just a shield to protect his one true love.
He dismissed my discovery as a "tantrum." Then, his new bride began taunting me, sending a picture of them tangled in bedsheets with the caption: "Loser." They expected me to break. They thought I would shatter.
They were about to find out just how wrong they were. I forwarded the picture to Isabella’s fiancé, a man far more dangerous than Dante. "Your fiancée is in Suite 8808 at the Grand Hyatt," I told him. "I'll meet you downstairs. We're going to crash their party." The Discarded Wife Is A Mafia Queen
Shore Tour I am the wife of Dante Moretti, a powerful Mafia Underboss. But in secret, I am "Spettro," the phantom architect who built his entire encrypted bootlegging empire.
On my birthday, I came home to find him gifting our five-year-old daughter the exact plush toy he had violently slapped out of my hands months ago. Only this time, he was giving it to his mistress, Adriana, to present as her own.
"Auntie Adriana is a million times better than Mommy."
My daughter's innocent words pierced my heart, while Dante coldly dismissed my presence, treating me like an unwelcome stranger interrupting their perfect family. He mocked my mothering, allowed his mistress to sever my desperate phone calls with my child, and weaponized his power to break our daughter's spirit just to spite me. He sneered that my only purpose was to stay quiet, absolutely certain I would crawl back the second my allowance ran dry.
He thought I was just a weak, submissive wife who had lost everything. He didn't realize that the empire he arrogantly ruled was entirely built on my stolen brilliance.
I left my diamond ring on the table, violently slashed our ancient blood oath in half, and walked out of his gilded cage forever.
Sitting in a cold warehouse, I placed my hands on my telegraph machine and initiated the Ghost Protocol to permanently paralyze his entire criminal network.
The era of playing the dutiful wife was over. I am Donna Falcone, and the vendetta has just begun. The Mafia Don's Regret: She Is Gone Forever
Er Duo I carried the first word I had spoken in ten years like a sacred offering, ready to surprise the man who had saved my life.
But through the crack in the study door, I heard Josiah tell his Underboss that I was nothing but a noose around his neck.
"Grace is a burden," he said, his voice cold. "I can't become Don while babysitting a mute ghost. Lexi brings power. Grace brings nothing but silence."
He chose to marry the Mafia Princess for her father's trade routes, dismissing me as wreckage.
But the true betrayal didn't happen in that office. It happened in the woods during an ambush.
With bullets flying and the mud sliding beneath us into a ravine, Josiah had to make a choice.
I was injured, trapped at the bottom. Lexi was screaming on the ridge.
He looked at me, mouthed "I'm sorry," and turned his back.
He hauled Lexi to safety to secure his alliance. He left me to die alone in the freezing mud.
I lay there in the dark, realizing the man who swore a blood oath to protect me had traded my life for a political seat.
He thought the silence would finally swallow me whole.
He was wrong.
I crawled out of that grave and vanished from his world completely.
Three years later, I returned to the city, not as his broken ward, but as a world-renowned artist.
When Josiah showed up at my gallery, looking shattered and begging for forgiveness, I didn't sign.
I looked him dead in the eye and spoke.
"The girl who loved you died in that ravine, Josiah." 
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