Ken Dahl
8 Published Stories
Ken Dahl's Books and Stories
The CEO's Billion-Dollar Divorce Regret
Mafia My husband, a mafia underboss and a brilliant neurosurgeon, left me to die on the side of a highway in the pouring rain. He had to rush to another woman, his true love, who'd had a minor car accident.
As I lay bleeding on a gurney after being hit by a truck, I learned I was eight weeks pregnant. But my hope was short-lived. The hospital was out of my blood type, and the only reserve had been set aside by my husband for his lover, just in case she had "post-op complications" from her cosmetic procedure.
Over the phone, I heard the nurse beg him. "This woman, and your... this baby will die!"
His reply was ice. "Isabella is my priority."
He let our child die to save her from a minor risk. The ledger where I'd been keeping score of his sins finally hit zero. I was free.
Two years later, I've built a new life, a new career, and found a new love with a man who cherishes me. I'm no longer the broken wife, but a celebrated architect, nominated for a prestigious award.
And tonight, at the awards ceremony, he found me. He got on his knees in the middle of the ballroom, begging for a second chance. Contract Marriage: The CEO's Silent Shield
Modern Aunt Lydia told me that if I didn't secure the loan shark Mr. Jareth tonight, I’d be sleeping on the street. I stood outside the brass doors of the restaurant, my lungs refusing to expand, my hands shaking so violently that my gray wool skirt blurred in my vision.
I was supposed to sell my soul to a monster to pay off my family’s debts. But when I sat down at Table 12, I didn't find a man in a leather jacket smelling of stale beer. Instead, I found a man in a bespoke suit who smelled of cedarwood and cold winter air, a man who looked at me like a specimen under a microscope.
"Sit down," he commanded, his voice a deep rumble that vibrated in my chest. Before I could realize I was at the wrong table, he had already signaled the staff to throw the real loan shark out into the street. Then, he slid a blank black card across the table and offered me a deal: a marriage of convenience to satisfy his board of directors in exchange for my total protection.
I signed the contract and moved into a penthouse he claimed belonged to his "boss," trying to play the part of the quiet, broken wife. But the lies were too loud to ignore. He called a half-million-dollar bottle of wine a "Costco blend" and claimed his $4 million Patek Philippe watch was a cheap replica. He thought he was protecting a helpless, mute girl, but he had no idea who I really was.
I didn't understand why this "manager" had the police commissioner on speed dial or why he was tracking my every move with hidden cameras. While he was busy playing the savior, I was secretly logging onto the dark web as "The Surgeon," the only medical genius capable of treating the chronic, agonizing migraines he kept hidden from the world.
The truth finally exploded when the loan shark cornered us at my aunt’s estate. As I held a corkscrew to a killer’s throat with surgical precision, I saw the mask slip from my husband’s face. I realized then that I hadn't just married a businessman—I had married the most dangerous man in New York, and he was currently wiring thousands of dollars to me to save his life. A Second Chance At The Choosing
Romance In my first life, I married Connor Walls, the golden heir to the Barrett Corporation, believing my father's sacrifice had earned me a fairytale.
Instead, it bought me a gilded cage and a brutal death. He left me to bleed out on the cold marble floor of our mansion while he entertained a guest one floor below.
He was a predator disguised as a prince, a man whose public smile charmed the world while his touch left bruises no one could see.
For years, he tormented me, painting me as the villain while my own cousin, Jana, clung to his side, reinforcing every lie.
The world adored him. They saw a perfect couple, a powerful alliance. No one saw the monster I lived with. No one knew the truth behind my "accidents."
Until I died, I was trapped.
But then, I was reborn and opened my eyes again.
I was back at the Choosing Ceremony, the day I was supposed to bind myself to him forever.
This time, I remembered every agonizing detail.
And this time, his ruthless, outcast brother Brannon was also an option. Her Comeback: Love, Loft, Life
Romance The first thing I felt was the sterile cold of the hospital sheets. My whole body ached, a deep, hollow pain I remembered too well. Then I saw him: Mark, my ex-husband, standing over me, not a trace of concern on his face.
"Jane, you have to sign this." He held a clipboard, ready to trick me into signing away the last piece of security I had left-our loft.
In my past life, this scene was burned into my memory. I had just lost our baby, almost died, while Mark deliberately ignored my frantic calls. Later, he blamed me for everything, claiming our marriage was a trap that kept him from his "true love," Sarah Miller, and that my refusal to sell the loft led to Sarah's brother's death and her subsequent suicide. He never loved me; he resented me. He claimed this was all my fault, a convenient lie to justify his cruelty.
Now, I was back. Reborn to the day he tried to steal my family home, not after my miscarriage, but to the day he attempted to swindle me out of the loft, years before. He saw me as weak, broken, and stupid, an easy mark for his greedy schemes. He thought he had won so easily, but he had no idea what I was truly planning.
A cold calm washed over me. The pain of the past was no longer a wound. It was armor. This time, he would learn what real disappointment was. The Wedding Crasher's Comeuppance
Romance My relaxing weekend at my parents' house was shattered by a call from my Brooklyn HOA.
They claimed my apartment was hosting a raucous wedding party, going on for two straight nights.
I was completely confused, having been single and away from Brooklyn for almost a year.
Then, the HOA emailed security footage, and my blood ran cold.
It was my ex-fiancé, Ethan, in a tuxedo, smiling triumphantly with a woman in a white dress, right in front of my apartment door.
He was getting married there.
The sheer audacity was staggering; this was the man I left because he demanded I add his name to the deed of the apartment I bought.
He had broken in, changed the locks, and was throwing his wedding in my sanctuary.
My father's "that bastard" echoed my own fury.
I drove straight to Brooklyn, only to find he' d changed the locks, preventing me from entering my own home.
His new mother-in-law, a stranger, belligerently told me I was a "crazy ex-girlfriend" and that Ethan had "bought this place" for her daughter.
The injustice burned through me as I stood in my own hallway, accused of trespassing.
How could someone be so brazen, so deceitful, to steal my home and invent such a lie?
This wasn't just about property; it was a violation of everything I had built for myself.
I called my two brothers, knowing this wasn't just a noise complaint anymore; it was war, and I was going to reclaim what was mine. The Stolen Life: A Billionaire Heiress's Reckoning
Billionaires I died on a Tuesday, run over by a horse. The last thing I saw was my father' s enraged face turning away, and heard my stepsister, Stella, let out a triumphant sob. Then, darkness.
But suddenly, I was back. Standing in our Silicon Valley mansion. My father, a billionaire who controlled everything but his emotions, stood beside me. Across the room, Stella, the girl he' d raised as his own, held the shattered pieces of my mother' s locket-my only memento of her. "Oops," she purred, her voice dripping fake sympathy. That cold smile. I knew this scene. I remembered the rage that blinded me then, the scream that sealed my fate.
In my first life, I had unknowingly played right into her hands. I raged, I screamed, I was banished. Then she swapped our bodies, trapping me in her life of torment at the horse sanctuary, where I eventually died-again. She literally stole my life, my identity, everything.
How could my own father, blinded by her fake piety, always side with her over me? How could I have been so naive, so foolish, to fall for her every trick? The injustice burned hotter than any fury. Why did fate bring me back just to relive this nightmare?
But this time, things would be different. The familiar sensation of horse hooves crushing my ribs was a vivid memory. I knew her plan, every single twisted step. And this time, I was ready. I would not scream. I would not lose. The game was on, and I, Gabrielle, was now holding the leash. A Blackwood Heiress Bows To No One
Romance The Alliance Summit, a high-stakes gathering where powerful families declared their allegiances, hummed with electric tension as I, Aurora Blackwood, stood poised to make the fateful pronouncement that would bind my ancestral legacy to Caleb Vance.It was the day I once proudly, fatally, linked our futures.
But I woke not as ash, but with a searing gasp, the phantom flames of my death still scorching my skin, flooding my mind with the chilling memory of Caleb Vance's face – devoid of grief, almost relieved – the very last sight before the Crimson Syndicate consumed my family, our generations-old ranch, and ultimately, me.
In that terrifying previous life, Caleb had swallowed Lila Hayes's carefully crafted lies whole, allowing himself to be manipulated into feeding critical intelligence to the Syndicate, which directly paved the way for their brutal attack, culminating in the complete decimation of the Blackwoods and my own agonizing demise.
The bitter taste of betrayal choked me, the searing injustice of loving a fool who believed every insidious whisper from a viper like Lila, sacrificing my family' s very existence to appease his warped sense of victimhood.
But not this time; reborn with searing clarity and a heart hardened by fire, I would not repeat the past, because today, here and now, a Blackwood Heiress would definitively bow to no one but herself, and Caleb Vance would witness the true cost of his betrayal. Premiere Night Betrayal
Modern I woke up from a car accident, my head pounding, to Ethan's hushed voice on the phone.
Not sweet nothings to me, his injured fiancée, but a deal with his agent to steal my screenplay, "City of Echoes," and give it to A-lister Olivia Monroe.
He planned to propose at the premiere, trap me with a ring, and erase me from the narrative of my own success, all for Olivia's comeback and his own glory.
The agent, surprisingly, spilled the tea: my early career sacrifice to cover Ethan's plagiarism, and Olivia's involvement in the stress that led to my miscarriage, our baby now gone.
Was my entire relationship a carefully woven web of lies, orchestrated by an ambitious man and a manipulative starlet?
Then I saw that framed photo of me in Liam Sterling's office: a gesture of respect towards my writing.
This realization made me start a new life plan: run, collaborate with Ethan's nemesis, and rewrite my history. 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.
From Jilted Bride To Mafia Empress
Xiao Wang 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." He Broke My Spirit, I Soared
Deeply Engaged I was the fiancée of the Chicago Outfit’s heir, a bond sealed by blood and eighteen years of history.
But when his mistress pushed me into the freezing pool at our engagement gala, Jax didn’t swim toward me.
He swam past me.
He scooped up the girl who pushed me, cradling her like fragile glass, while I struggled against the weight of my gown in the murky water.
When I finally dragged myself out, shivering and humiliated before the entire underworld, Jax didn’t offer a hand. He offered a scowl.
"You’re making a scene, Eliana. Go home."
Later, when that same mistress shoved me down the stairs, shattering my knee and my dance career, Jax stepped over my broken body to comfort her.
I overheard him telling his friends, "I’m just breaking her spirit. She needs to learn she’s property, not a partner. Once she’s desperate enough, she’ll be the perfect obedient wife."
He thought I was a dog that would always return to its master. He thought he could starve me of affection until I begged for scraps.
He was wrong.
While he was busy playing protector to his mistress, I wasn't crying in my room.
I was packing his ring into a cardboard box.
I cancelled my transfer to UCLA and enrolled at NYU instead.
By the time Jax realized his "property" was missing, I was already in New York, standing next to a man who looked at me like a queen, not a possession. 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. Carved From My Body, His Regret
Ive Gutterson My eyes struggled open, but a heavy weight held them shut. I was paralyzed, trapped in a cold hospital room, the rhythmic beep of a heart monitor a cruel reminder of my mother's death. I, Elena Vitiello, who controlled everything, was now helpless, reduced to a slab of meat.
Then I heard his footsteps. Dante. My husband, my anchor. But his voice was chillingly devoid of warmth as he ordered, "Do not increase the dosage. I will not risk damaging the organ's viability." The organ. My mind went blank, ice filling my veins.
Trapped and unable to move, I realized Dante saw me only as a "political placeholder," never loving me. He was having my kidney removed, carved from my body like livestock, to save his mistress, Sofia-the woman whose messes I'd cleaned for ten years. His hand, usually my comfort, smeared away my tear with sheer disgust.
The scalpel tore into my flesh, a blinding, white-hot agony. Every tug and pull hollowed me out, stripping away my potential, my love, my future. How could the man I bled for reduce me to a mere object, a spare part for his true love? The sheer insult of it fueled a volcanic rage.
As my kidney was lifted out, the final illusion of our marriage shattered completely. My fear dissolved, replaced by a chilling, absolute calm. The darkness that embraced me was not defeat, but the coiling silence of a viper preparing to strike. This kidney was not a sacrifice. It was the down payment for Dante Moretti's life. Phoenix Rising: My Doomed Supreme General Husband
Sea Quest Arden Monroe was locked in a sterile psychiatric room by her own flesh and blood.
Not long after, her brother Delmar arrived with a cold ultimatum.
He demanded she publicly break her engagement so her fiancé Brenden could marry her half-sister Kallie.
If she refused, the doctors would declare her legally unstable, and she would rot in this asylum forever.
In her previous life, Arden fought back desperately.
As a result, her family froze her trust fund and completely destroyed her reputation in high society.
They even framed her fiercely loyal assistant, Jennie, throwing her into a terrifying concrete cell to silence her.
When Arden had absolutely nothing left to take, they orchestrated a tragic accident.
She was left to burn alive in an abandoned warehouse, feeling her own bones turn to ash.
Until she died, she didn't understand. She was a Monroe, her father's legitimate daughter.
Why did her father and brother hate her so much?
Why did they collude with political enemies to slaughter her maternal grandfather and uncles just to strip away her protection?
Opening her eyes again, the suffocating smoke was gone, and she was back on the day Delmar came to force the breakup.
"I'll do what you want," Arden whispered, perfectly masking her cold, murderous resolve.
This time, she would inherit the secret Beaumont wealth, ally with the dying General Donovan Mathews, and burn their world to the ground. 
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