Jing Yue
11 Published Stories
Jing Yue's Books and Stories
No Pity, No Regret
Romance I spent four years sacrificing everything for my fiancé, Mark, supporting him through college, only for him to return with Sarah, his childhood sweetheart, and announce their wedding.
The day he came back, this new woman pushed her way into our home and into my bedroom, forcing me to give up my space. I asked Mark about our engagement, but he just ignored me.
Then, he accused me of stealing from the factory I' d poured my life into, the one my parents built, and had me thrown in jail. My uncle, a frail old man, sold everything he owned, even his only two cows, to bail me out.
I couldn' t understand why he would betray me so completely and utterly. Why would he humiliate me and destroy my future for a woman who was a near-stranger? What was I missing?
With nothing left to lose, I left town, vowing never to look back. I had my bus ticket to New York, and a burning desire to start over. The Shadow Wife's Secret Billionaire Baby
Modern For five years, I was the shadow behind billionaire Julian Sterling—his top executive assistant by day and his secret wife by night. I lived by a strict contract, staying invisible to protect his public image while raising his son, Leo, as my own.
On New Year’s Eve, the silence of our penthouse was shattered. I watched on live television as Julian dropped to one knee at a high-society gala, proposing to Hollywood star Victoria Chase with a pink diamond that cost more than my life.
When he came home, he didn't offer an apology; he offered an insult. He revealed that Victoria was actually Leo’s biological mother and I was merely a "temporary caretaker" whose time was up. My world spiraled as Victoria staged a fall to frame me for assault, and Julian’s family treated me like a common criminal.
"You are a biological necessity, Serena. Do not make this emotional," he told me, his voice devoid of any warmth we had shared in private.
The betrayal cut deeper than I thought possible. Every sacrifice I made for our family was a lie, a five-year waiting period for his "real" life to begin. He handed me divorce papers with a staggering settlement, but it came with a chilling condition: I had to waive all rights for any future children. He wanted to ensure I couldn't claim a "golden ticket" if I turned up pregnant.
He didn't know I was already clutching a positive pregnancy test in my pocket.
As I reached for the pen to sign the papers and disappear with Leo, a violent pain exploded in my stomach. I felt the warmth of blood soaking through my clothes, and the room began to spin.
I looked at Julian’s cold, expectant face and realized I was no longer just a wife or an assistant. I was a liability he intended to erase. But as I collapsed into the darkness, I made one final vow: he would never lay a finger on my unborn child. Six Years of Poisoned Love
Modern My husband, Alexander, gave me "fertility supplements" every morning for six years. I drank every drop, desperate for the child he promised we'd have. But my body remained stubbornly empty.
Then, on my 40th birthday, I discovered the truth. The supplements were contraceptives. And his mistress was pregnant with the son he'd always wanted.
She sent me a video of Alexander kissing her pregnant belly.
"He's always loved me," the text read. "You were just the placeholder. Enjoy your barren life."
The man I trusted had systematically poisoned me, stealing my dream of motherhood while building his real family with another woman.
He had gaslighted me for years, making me believe I was the one who was broken, all while living a double life that began on our wedding day.
That night, at the lavish birthday party he threw for me, he planned a "romantic surprise" on a giant screen for all our friends and family. He had no idea I had a surprise of my own. His Secret Life, My Shattered Dreams
Modern Hazel Ware. That was my name. Not Hazel Harrell. It was the only thing I hadn't changed for Emmett, and now, watching him on stage, his hand brushing Keeley Osborn's as the applause thundered, I felt like a stranger to my own life.
For five years, I was the perfect wife to my successful architect husband, Emmett. I happily put my own ambitions aside for his, believing our life was a shared dream.
Then, one night, I discovered the truth. He was living a secret life, caught in a five-year emotional affair with his old flame, the filmmaker Keeley Osborn, a woman he depended on more than me.
He abandoned me on our anniversary to celebrate her success and left my bed at 3 AM to soothe her 'creative block.' When I found out I was pregnant, I was utterly alone.
During a desperate confrontation, I told him about the baby. His first instinct was to defend her. The shock sent me to the hospital, where I miscarried our child.
The ultimate betrayal was learning he was in the same hospital that day, comforting Keeley while I was losing our baby down the hall.
Lying in that cold hospital bed, I looked at the man I no longer recognized.
"It's over, Emmett," I said. "I want a divorce." Ballerina's Vow: His Empire Will Burn
Modern My husband, Alexander, systematically destroyed my career as a prima ballerina. For years, I was the star of the New York City Ballet, but he ensured every major award went to his mistresses. The final insult was watching him hand my Starlight Award to his latest plaything, Cassie.
Then I discovered a truth far more monstrous. He had helped Cassie' s brother escape justice after brutally assaulting my fragile sister, Grace.
For two years, he used Grace' s expensive medical care as leverage, holding her hostage to ensure my obedience while he paraded his affairs in my face.
At a public gala, Cassie tormented my sister with the truth of her assault until Grace, broken and terrified, jumped from the rooftop to her death.
In a desperate attempt to save her, I leaped after her into the abyss.
I had endured everything for Grace. His cruelty, the public humiliation, the death of my career. Now she was gone, murdered by his twisted games.
But I survived the fall. And as I lay in that hospital bed, I made a new vow. I wouldn't just get a divorce. I would gather the evidence, expose his crimes, and burn his entire empire to the ground. Eight Years, A Single Word
Romance The sharp, twisting pain woke me from a dead sleep. Ethan wasn't home, and his phone was answered by Chloe, my husband' s childhood friend.
She dismissed my agony, urging me not to be "so dramatic" before hanging up, leaving me alone to dial 911 through blinding pain.
At the hospital, the doctor's words blurred: "Ectopic pregnancy. Ruptured. Internal bleeding. Immediate operation." The nurse couldn't reach Ethan, so I signed the consent form myself, a single tear tracing a path down my cheek. I was truly alone.
I woke in a sterile room; the baby was gone. Ethan's voicemail mocked me, calling me "dramatic" and "jealous," accusing me of making "everything about myself." My despair was a vast, silent ocean, and I was drowning.
Yet, a cold realization clicked: I was merely a bystander in my own marriage, overshadowed by Chloe and Mrs. Davis. The cold clinical words of my medical report, "Ruptured Ectopic Pregnancy. Emergency Salpingectomy," became my shield. I sent the picture to Ethan.
His text, "Is this some kind of joke?" followed by "I'll compensate you for whatever you feel you' ve lost," twisted the knife. Compensate me? As if our baby was a business deal gone wrong. How could he be so blind, so cruel?
I typed a single word: "Okay." Then, I turned off my phone, packing up eight years of my life, leaving only a ghost of what we once were. The Billionaire's Secret, Their Fury, Our Fight
Billionaires The sterile hospital room smelled of disinfectant and my mother' s fading life, her hand a fragile anchor in mine.
Then, a bombshell dropped: Mr. Sterling, the tech mogul plastered on magazine covers, was my biological father.
My mother's dying breaths were a desperate plea to him: "Promise me you'll take care of her." He promised, just as the machine flatlined, leaving me an orphan.
Thrown into his opulent world, I faced his glacial children, Olivia and Liam, who saw me as an unwelcome stain on their perfect lives, a "charity case," a "problem."
Their disdain was a constant torment, especially when Tiffany and her clique at the elite boarding school used my illegitimate status to bully me relentlessly.
No one helped. I was utterly alone, humiliated, my mother's death still raw, the world an unbearable weight.
But when a fight in the hallway escalated, and I was blamed and abandoned, something inside me snapped.
I was a castaway, drowning in their world, until Olivia and Liam returned, their cold indifference replaced by a terrifying, protective rage.
They shattered Tiffany's bullying reign with brutal efficiency, and for the first time, I felt a strange, fierce belonging.
In the aftermath, they revealed their own gilded cages, their dreams crushed by the same man who was now my father.
Their pain became my purpose, their silent suffering a call to arms.
They offered me a weapon, a chance to fight back for all of us: "Be our weapon, Chloe. Let us teach you."
And in that moment, I knew I would learn their world, master their rules, and turn their father's own game against him. No More Tears, Only Retribution
Sci-fi The eviction notice, a cruel red rectangle, mocked me from my door.
Just months ago, I was Chloe, the artist poised to revolutionize the world with Aura, my groundbreaking AI.
Now, the world was closing in, air squeezed from my lungs.
Then, at the sprawling Innovatech conference, the stage set for our triumph, my fiancé Mark unveiled Aura, which I poured my soul into, as his own.
"I call her... Genesis," he boomed, "created solely by me."
My best friend, Sarah, whose hand I held moments before, gazed at him with adoration, not outrage.
The fallout was swift and brutal.
Mark, the instant tech celebrity, branded me a disgruntled ex.
Sarah, leveraging her gallery connections, systematically blacklisted me, painting me as unstable, a fraud.
Calls unanswered, doors slammed shut-my life, my legacy, evaporated.
I was a ghost in a rundown apartment, bearing an eviction notice, with nothing left.
How could they? How could the two people I trusted most, the two people who were my family, betray me so completely, so publicly?
The world had become a twisted, unrecognizable place where truth was irrelevant, and loyalty meant nothing.
But in the ashes of utter despair, sifting through the remains of my life, my fingers brushed against my estranged father' s dusty hard drive-a digital arsenal of hacking tools and encrypted journals.
The artist in me was dead, but something else, a chilling new resolve, began to stir.
I would change my destiny, not by going back, but by going forward with skills they never saw coming. Silence On The Main Stage
Romance My name is Ethan Lester. I' m a humble community college music teacher, engaged to Nicole Anderson, a brilliant Silicon Valley CEO.
She worships an anonymous DJ, "Aethel," whose music, she says, saved her from deep depression.
She doesn't know "Aethel" is me.
After our engagement party, I saw a text on her phone, not meant for my eyes.
It was from her assistant, Brian: "He' s boring. He' ll never understand you like I do. Like Aethel does."
Her reply shattered my world: "I know, my Aethel. I' ll handle him. The festival is all that matters."
I followed her to a penthouse where she funded Brian' s music studio and promised him a headline festival spot – my comeback.
I registered for the Electric Odyssey festival under my real name, determined to expose the fraud.
But backstage, just before my performance, two men grabbed me.
Then, they broke my hands.
Pain erupted as my bones snapped. My career, my identity, gone in an instant.
As my vision blurred, Nicole emerged from the shadows.
"Electric Odyssey is for ' Aethel' !" she snarled, her voice cruel. "I' ll destroy anyone who threatens his comeback, including you."
She watched me bleed, letting me lie broken on the cold concrete.
I woke up in my own bed, gasping, my hands miraculously whole.
I grabbed my phone: The date was ten days before the festival.
I was back, with the terrifying memory of my murder fresh in my mind, courtesy of my fiancée.
This time, I wouldn' t be the one getting destroyed. The Heiress Who Broke My World
Modern My family and I sacrificed everything, our entire lives and savings, for my fiancée Isabelle, who lay in a coma for a year after a seemingly minor car accident.
We moved mountains, sold our home, and poured every penny into her recovery, believing in a love that demanded ultimate devotion.
But the day she "woke up"-healthy, laughing, and throwing cash at my feet after her luxury SUV clipped my leg-she revealed it was all a cruel "loyalty test."
Her "test" had already cost me everything: my mother, who skipped vital heart medication to save for Isabelle and died; my father, overworked to death at an unsafe Vance Corporation construction site; and my little sister, trafficked and murdered for trying to earn money for Isabelle' s fictional medical bills.
While I stood numb, having just identified my sister's body hours before, she, surrounded by her aristocratic circle, merely laughed, celebrating her "recovery" and my "loyalty" as her casual cruelty sliced through what little I had left.
The half-million dollars she and her manipulative ex-husband then offered me as "compensation" felt like blood money for my lost family.
I took my mother, father, and sister with me-their ashes in a small suitcase-left everything else behind, and walked away from her gilded cage forever, seeking a quiet peace far from the monsters who devoured my world. You might like
Flash Marriage To My Best Friend's Father
Madel Cerda I was once the heiress to the Solomon empire, but after it crumbled, I became the "charity case" ward of the wealthy Hyde family. For years, I lived in their shadows, clinging to the promise that Anson Hyde would always be my protector.
That promise shattered when Anson walked into the ballroom with Claudine Chapman on his arm. Claudine was the girl who had spent years making my life a living hell, and now Anson was announcing their engagement to the world.
The humiliation was instant. Guests sneered at my cheap dress, and a waiter intentionally sloshed champagne over me, knowing I was a nobody. Anson didn't even look my way; he was too busy whispering possessively to his new fiancée. I was a ghost in my own home, watching my protector celebrate with my tormentor.
The betrayal burned. I realized I wasn't a ward; I was a pawn Anson had kept on a shelf until he found a better trade. I had no money, no allies, and a legal trust fund that Anson controlled with a flick of his wrist.
Fleeing to the library, I stumbled into Dallas Koch-a titan of industry and my best friend's father. He was a wall of cold, absolute power that even the Hydes feared.
"Marry me," I blurted out, desperate to find a shield Anson couldn't climb.
Dallas didn't laugh. He pulled out a marriage agreement and a heavy fountain pen.
"Sign," he commanded, his voice a low rumble. "But if you walk out that door with me, you never go back."
I signed my name, trading my life for the only man dangerous enough to keep me safe. One Night With My Billionaire Boss
Nathaniel Stone I woke up on silk sheets that smelled of expensive cedar and cold sandalwood, a world away from my cramped apartment in Brooklyn.
Beside me lay Ezra Gardner-my boss, the billionaire CEO of Gardner Holdings, and the man who could end my career with a snap of his fingers.
He didn't offer an apology for the night before; instead, he looked at me with terrifying clarity and proposed a cold, calculated business arrangement.
"Marriage. It stabilizes the board and solves the PR crisis before it begins."
He dressed me in archival Chanel and sent me home in his Maybach, but my life was already falling apart. My boyfriend, Irving, claimed he had passed out early, yet his location data placed him at my best friend's apartment until three in the morning. When I tried to run, I realized Ezra was already ten steps ahead, tracking my movements and uncovering the secret I'd spent twenty years hiding: my connection to the powerful Senator Grimes.
I was trapped between a CEO who treated me like a line item on a quarterly report and a boyfriend who had been using me while sleeping with my closest friend. I felt like a pawn in a game I didn't understand, wondering why a man like Ezra would walk up forty flights of stairs on a broken leg just to make sure I was safe.
"Showtime, Mrs. Gardner."
Standing on the red carpet in a gown that cost more than my life, I watched my cheating ex-boyfriend's face turn pale as Ezra claimed me in front of the world. I wasn't just an assistant anymore; I was a weapon, and it was time to burn their world down. 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. He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him
SHANA GRAY The sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her.
Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. "Mr. Kensington," the nurse's voice cracked, "your wife... she's critical." A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. "Liam is in the shower," Seraphina's voice purred. "Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low." Then, Liam's bored voice: "If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning." Click. The line went dead.
A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living.
Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body.
Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back. After Divorce: My Arrogant Ex Regrets Calling Me Trash
Sea Jet Aurora woke up to the sterile chill of her king-sized bed in Sterling Thorne's penthouse. Today was the day her husband would finally throw her out like garbage. Sterling walked in, tossed divorce papers at her, and demanded her signature, eager to announce his "eligible bachelor" status to the world.
In her past life, the sight of those papers had broken her, leaving her begging for a second chance. Sterling's sneering voice, calling her a "trailer park girl" undeserving of his name, had once cut deeper than any blade. He had always used her humble beginnings to keep her small, to make her grateful for the crumbs of his attention. She had lived a gilded cage, believing she was nothing without him, until her life flatlined in a hospital bed, watching him give a press conference about his "grief."
But this time, she felt no sting, no tears. Only a cold, clear understanding of the mediocre man who stood on a pedestal she had painstakingly built with her own genius.
Aurora signed the papers, her name a declaration of independence. She grabbed her old, phoenix-stickered laptop, ready to walk out. Sterling Thorne was about to find out exactly how expensive "free" could be. His Twisted Game, My Dangerous Love
Elroy Notman Vesper's marriage to Julian Sterling was a gilded cage. One morning, she woke naked beside Damon Sterling, Julian's terrifying brother, then found a text: Julian's mistress was pregnant. Her world shattered, but the real nightmare had just begun.
Julian's abuse escalated, gaslighting Vesper, funding his secret life. Damon, a germaphobic billionaire, became her unsettling anchor amidst his chaos.
As "Iris," Vesper exposed Julian's mistress, Serena Sharp, sparking brutal war: poisoned drinks, a broken leg, and the horrifying truth-Julian murdered her parents, trapping Vesper in marriage.
The man she married was a killer. Broken and betrayed, Vesper was caught between monstrous brothers, burning with injustice.
Refusing victimhood, Vesper reclaimed her identity. Fueled by vengeance, she allied with Damon, who vowed to burn his empire for her. Julian faced justice, but matriarch Eleanor's counterattack forced Vesper's choice as a hitman aimed for her. Broken Ring, Billionaire Secrets: Watch Me Shine
Cornelia I sat on the edge of the examination table, the crinkle of the sanitary paper sounding like thunder in the sterile room. The doctor didn't even look at me as he confirmed the news: the pregnancy was over. My husband, Keyon, didn't answer my call. He just sent an automated text: "In a meeting."
When I returned to our cold mansion, I found his iPad glowing with a message from his "muse," Katina. He was throwing her a secret gala tonight-on our third wedding anniversary. He told her he couldn't wait to escape the "boring" and "draining" atmosphere I created at home.
Keyon didn't stumble in until 3 AM, smelling of Katina's perfume with a smear of red on his collar. When I handed him the divorce papers, he laughed in my face. He called me a "glorified housekeeper" with no skills and no future, promising I'd be back in three days begging for a subway ticket. He even bet his friends ten thousand dollars that I wouldn't survive a week without his name.
He had his assistant cancel my credit cards and block my gate access before I even reached the end of the driveway. He wanted me to starve. He wanted me to crawl. He sat in his office, mocking the "desperate" woman who pawned her three-million-dollar wedding ring for scrap metal just to pay for a meal.
I stood on the rainy curb, watching the man I had protected for three years treat my life like trash. He didn't know about the ultrasound I just threw in the bin. He didn't know that while he was calling me "dull," I was the one secretly writing the code that kept his billion-dollar empire from collapsing.
As I slid into a cheap Uber, I opened a hidden, encrypted app on my phone. The screen refreshed to a dashboard for an account Keyon didn't know existed. The balance was ten figures long-the accumulated wealth of "Solaris," the world's most elusive tech genius. Keyon thinks he just evicted a parasite, but he's about to find out he just declared war on the only person who can hit "delete" on his entire life. I Signed the Divorce, He Lost Everything
Rabbit My wealthy husband, Nathaniel, stormed in, demanding a divorce to be with his "dying" first love, Julia. He expected tears, pleas, even hysteria. Instead, I calmly reached for a pen, ready to sign away our life for a fortune.
For two years, I played the devoted wife in our sterile penthouse. That night, Nathaniel shattered the facade, tossing divorce papers. "Julia's back," he stated, "she needs me."
He expected me to crumble. But my calm "Okay" shocked him. I coolly demanded his penthouse, shares, and a doubled stipend, letting him believe I was a greedy gold digger. He watched, disgusted, convinced I was a monster.
He couldn't fathom my indifference or ruthless demands. He saw avarice, not a carefully constructed facade. His betrayal had awakened something far more dangerous.
The second the door closed, the dutiful wife vanished. I retrieved a burner phone and a Glock, ready to expose the elaborate lie he and Julia had built. HIS DOE, HIS DAMNATION(An Erotic Billionaire Romance)
Viviene Trigger/Content Warning:
This story contains mature themes and explicit content intended for adult audiences(18+). Reader discretion is advised.
It includes elements such as BDSM dynamics, explicit sexual content, toxic family relationships, occasional violence and strong language.
This is not a fluffy romance. It is intense, raw and messy, and explores the darker side of desire.
*****
"Take off your dress, Meadow."
"Why?"
"Because your ex is watching," he said, leaning back into his seat. "And I want him to see what he lost."
••••*••••*••••*
Meadow Russell was supposed to get married to the love of her life in Vegas. Instead, she walked in on her twin sister riding her fiance.
One drink at the bar turned to ten. One drunken mistake turned into reality. And one stranger's offer turned into a contract that she signed with shaking hands and a diamond ring.
Alaric Ashford is the devil in a tailored Tom Ford suit. Billionaire CEO, brutal, possessive. A man born into an empire of blood and steel.
He also suffers from a neurological condition-he can't feel. Not objects, not pain, not even human touch.
Until Meadow touches him, and he feels everything. And now he owns her. On paper and in his bed.
She wants him to ruin her. Take what no one else could have. He wants control, obedience... revenge.
But what starts as a transaction slowly turns into something Meadow never saw coming.
Obsession, secrets that were never meant to surface, and a pain from the past that threatens to break everything.
Alaric doesn't share what's his.
Not his company.
Not his wife.
And definitely not his vengeance.
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