Ning Ruoshui
8 Published Stories
Ning Ruoshui's Books and Stories
His Wife, The Underworld King
Mafia For three years, I was the invisible, obedient wife of Julian Falcone, the ruthless Don of the East Coast. I secretly ran my own underground network, laundering his money to secure his throne, hoping to finally earn his love.
But he brought his childhood sweetheart, Elena, back from Europe and publicly paraded her at the syndicate gala, leaving me standing alone like a piece of furniture.
He even moved her into our master suite, letting his mother and the entire family humiliate me as a nameless civilian. I was nearly five months pregnant with his heir, but he was too busy building a fake mafia resume for his mistress to notice my suffering. He used the very funds I had cleaned for him to buy her a throne, while his capos laughed at my expense.
Lying alone on the cold operating table to abort his child, my last shred of devotion withered and died. I had labored in the dark for a man who only wanted a doll to arrange in his house while he built an empire for another woman.
"I must go arrange a divorce."
I packed my worn suitcases, left the annulment papers on his desk, and walked out of the estate. At the upcoming National Commission Summit, I will step out of the shadows as the true Boss of the W.E.N. Network, and let my husband watch his world burn. Apocalypse Rebirth: Seven Days to Hoard and Take Revenge
Modern In my past life, the Cerberus strain leaked, turning the world into a blood-soaked hell of rotting flesh and mutated monsters.
I thought my boyfriend Declan and my best friend Hailee would have my back as we fled the quarantine zone.
Instead, when the surging crowd of the infected cornered us, they didn't hesitate.
They shoved me backward into the horde just to buy themselves three seconds to run.
As I fell into the mud, I saw them fleeing without a single backward glance.
"She's dead weight anyway!" Hailee screamed.
"Just keep running, she'll distract them!" Declan yelled back.
I was torn apart, feeling the agonizing tear of rotting teeth sinking into my neck and the hot spray of my own blood.
Before the apocalypse, my greedy uncle had locked away my ten-million-dollar trust fund, leaving me with nothing but a fake boyfriend who only wanted me for my money.
Until my last breath, I couldn't understand how the people I loved most could trade my life for a head start.
Why did I blindly trust them? Why didn't I see through their perfectly choreographed lies?
Opening my eyes again, the stench of decaying flesh vanished, replaced by the sterile smell of my college dorm room.
Hailee and Declan were standing over my bed, faking tears of concern over my meningitis fever.
I was back exactly seven days before the world ended, and my spatial vault ability had come back with me.
This time, I'm extorting my uncle for every cent, hoarding the city's supplies, and leaving them all to rot. Flash Marriage To My Mysterious Paralyzed Husband
Modern I sat at a table for two in the center of Le Coucou, clutching a gift box that had cost me two months of savings. It was our three-year anniversary, and I was waiting for Gavin to finally ask the big question.
But when the heavy oak doors opened, Gavin didn't walk toward me with a ring. He walked in with a polished blonde heiress tucked under his arm, her hand resting protectively over a small baby bump.
"This is Tiffany Stone. My fiancée," he said, his voice devoid of any warmth. He didn't apologize for being late or for the three years we'd spent together. Instead, he pulled out a checkbook, scribbled a number, and slid a ten-thousand-dollar check across the white tablecloth.
"Consider it severance for your time," he added, as Tiffany mocked my cheap drugstore dress. "Don't contact me again. Tiffany doesn't need the stress." I was the entertainment for the entire restaurant—the pathetic girl dumped for a better model. By the time I walked out into the rain, I had lost my boyfriend, my home, and the funding for my secret medical research project.
I was an orphan with no safety net, facing an eviction notice and a ruined career. I had given Gavin everything, and he had discarded me like a broken tool. The injustice burned in my chest, a hot, sharp rage that replaced my tears.
Desperate and freezing, I ducked into a coffee shop where I met Colton Bentley, a reclusive billionaire in a wheelchair. After I defended him from a cruel date, he offered me a contract: a marriage of convenience and a seven-figure payment to act as his shield. I signed the papers that night, ready to use his wealth to rebuild my life. But as I watched my new husband navigate his penthouse, I noticed his "paralyzed" legs tense with a strength that shouldn't exist. His Defiant Mate: The Alpha King's Obsession
Werewolf I went to the Alpha Heir's office to tell him I was pregnant. I thought three years of devotion meant something.
Instead, I heard him laughing with his mistress.
"She's just a pet," Holden said. "A placeholder until you were ready."
While I lay bleeding in the clinic, mourning my lost child, Holden sent a "prank" cake laced with ghost peppers to the only father figure I had left. The shock gave the old man a heart attack, killing him instantly.
Holden didn't know about the miscarriage. He didn't know he had killed his own heir.
He just dragged me out of the hospital bed and ordered me to be a bridesmaid at his wedding to the mistress.
"Kneel and hold her train," he commanded, using his Alpha Voice to force me down. "That is your place."
He thinks I'm broken. He thinks I'm trapped because I'm a weak Omega.
But he forgot about the bet he made six months ago. He bet me as a prize in a street race against the ruthless Alpha King—and lost.
I dialed the private number I swore I'd never use.
"You won," I whispered into the phone. "Come get me."
Holden is waiting for me at the altar, expecting a submissive servant.
He has no idea that the Alpha King is coming to claim his prize, and his world is about to burn. Trapped In A Mafia Marriage
Mafia The surgeon told me I had one hour to save my right hand, the one that spun my soul into symphonies. My husband, Don Dante Rossi, gave that hour to his mistress for a minor fracture.
The surgeon pleaded with him, explaining that every minute we delayed risked catastrophic, permanent damage.
But Dante just looked at our ten-year-old son, Nico. “What do you think?”
Nico met my eyes from the gurney, his own gaze chillingly calm. “Mamma is strong. She’ll understand the sacrifice. Besides,” he added, “if she’s in pain, it means she loves us more.”
My hand was ruined, my career as a composer over. But for them, the game was just beginning. They needed my jealousy, my tears, my pain, to feed their sick definition of love. They pushed me down a flight of stairs just to watch me cry.
I had mistaken my husband’s obsession for passion, his cruelty for a test. I finally saw it for what it was: a pathology of ownership. My suffering was their trophy.
Lying broken at the bottom of the stairs, I heard my son's voice float down.
“See, Dad? Now she's really crying. She really does love us.”
Something inside me didn't just break; it turned to ice. When my lawyer visited me in the hospital, I took the papers he brought. In our world, a Don’s wife doesn’t leave. She endures or she disappears. I signed the divorce petition. I was choosing war. His Sacrifice, Her Redemption, Their End
Modern My family' s crimes finally caught up to us.
To save them, I had no choice but to "sell" myself to Sarah Jenkins, my ex.
She was the daughter of my family' s biggest victim, and she made me her personal assistant, a pawn in a game of twisted revenge.
For three years, her luxurious penthouse became my cage.
I endured unimaginable physical and psychological torture, from electric shocks and beatings to being forced to sleep on the floor and eat scraps.
When her new husband, Mark Peterson, joined in, things worsened.
He carved the word "CRIMINAL" into my arm, turning me into a branded animal.
Consumed by despair, I plotted to crash a private jet with them onboard, but Sarah's desperate cry to protect Mark, the man who aided in my torment, made me hesitate.
Their twisted dependency baffled me; why would she protect him after all he' d done?
Then, Mark found the ashes of my parents, which I had secretly saved, and began to mix them with mud, planning to use them as shark bait.
My last shred of dignity shattered.
I pleaded with Sarah, reminding her of her promise to leave their remains untouched, but she coldly dismissed it.
As she watched, I scooped the filthy ash into my mouth, choosing to become their grave.
I was broken, bleeding, and ready to die.
But my desperate act triggered a response in her I hadn't seen.
She pushed Mark away, protecting me in her own brutal way, just before I pulled her into the ocean with me.
In the cold depths, surrounded by sharks, I found myself fighting to save the woman who had systematically destroyed me.
It still bewilders me why a love so broken, so entwined with hatred, could force such a sacrifice.
My death was inevitable, but it brought me a strange peace.
Little did I know, Sarah had meticulously planned every cruel act, using me to destroy Mark.
Yet, in her twisted revenge, she blurred the lines between love and hate so completely that my sacrifice somehow became her ultimate redemption.
My story has ended, but hers has just truly begun. When Betrayal Backfires
Fantasy I died on a Tuesday, a stress-induced heart attack ending the brilliant career of Gabrielle Smith, Chicago's corporate law star.
My spirit lingered, an invisible spectator at my own memorial, watching Andrew Clark, my childhood friend and secret love, console Molly Johns, the paralegal I'd taken under my wing.
Then came the whispered confession that shattered my spectral peace: Molly, hysterical, admitted she swapped the evidence file to protect the client, promised a fortune.
But Andrew's next words were the real kill shot. Stroking her hair, he revealed he knew all along, that he helped her cover it up, that he was tired of living in my shadow and wanted me to take the fall.
The betrayal was a jolt, a blinding flash that ripped through my disembodied form, extinguishing the scent of funeral lilies and replacing it with the familiar smell of my office.
I gasped, a lung-filling breath, snapping my eyes open to see my hand resting on my mahogany desk, the clock reading 3:15 PM.
A knock came at the door. "Gabrielle? I have the final discovery files for the Russo case," Molly's voice said.
I looked at the calendar. It was the very day my downfall began. But not this time. This time, I knew. You might like
His Vow Broke, Her Empire Woke
Hei Baidong I was the perfect Mafia wife, my dowry the foundation of my husband's ambition. I paid for his Yale degree, his tailored suits, and the very mansion he called his own. My reward? He paraded his mistress into my bedroom and declared her his second wife, expecting me to silently finance their affair.
They thought they had broken a merchant's daughter. They forgot I was raised by wolves.
Armed with a blood chit—a life debt owed to my family by the most feared man in Chicago—I walked into the lion's den. I went to Damien 'The Wraith' Falcone, the Dark Don who rules the Outfit with an iron fist, to demand a simple annulment.
But the King of Chicago isn't interested in simple transactions. He saw the steel beneath my silk, the vendetta burning in my eyes. He granted me my freedom, but at a price: my allegiance. Now, I'm a pawn in his lethal game of thrones, caught between a treacherous husband I swore to destroy and a ruthless Don who looks at me with a terrifying, possessive hunger.
In a city built on loyalty and betrayal, I'm about to teach them all that a queen's wrath is the deadliest weapon of all. Substitute Bride: Taming The Masked Mafia Don
Hei Baidong I was dragged back from the countryside by my father for one purpose: to be a sacrificial lamb.
He ordered me to marry the mafia Don Damien Valachi in place of my sister. Everyone in the underworld knew that this Don's brides never saw the light of the next day. My stepmother put on a fake smile and took my hand, calling it an "honor"; my sister hid behind her, unable to conceal the gleam of triumph in her eyes.
I smiled coldly and held up two fingers: "Twenty million dollars. Now."
My father tried to play tricks, planning to take back the money from my trust fund after I died, but I had someone transfer every cent out before the wedding, leaving him a zero balance.
The next day, the wedding car pulled up to the Valachi estate. The butler ordered the driver to use the service entrance-it seemed my groom didn't think I was worthy of the front gate.
I got out and switched to an armored vehicle. I floored the accelerator, crashing straight through the estate gates. The gates shattered, and I didn't stop until I reached the main steps. I jumped out, the heel of my shoe crushing a broken iron railing, and shouted:
"The bride is here."
I looked up, scanning every window until my gaze stopped on one dark pane. I knew Damien was watching.
I brushed the dust off my skirt, raised my voice a notch, and smiled: "What, the Don of the Valachi family doesn't dare come out to meet his new wife?" 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 Bestie's Dad Popped My Cherry
Oye's Pen "You've been in denial for so long, Addison." His voice was husky and heavy with lust. "Do you really want me to stop?"
I could not bring myself to say no. My best friend's stepdad was like the devil, making me find so much pleasure in sin.
"You can't even say no," he chuckled, letting go of my hand finally. They moved to my face and he stared into my eyes, while his other hand still worked wonders between my legs.
"Don't make me do this," I finally said, moaning the words out. "Please."
"Tell me to stop one more time and I will," he mumbled.
"Please, st-" I didn't complete my words because he captured my lips with his.
*+*+*+*+*+*+*
Addison Rodriguez never expected to feel any sexual tension or fall in love with her best friend's stepdad. As she surrenders to the sexual tension, her loyalty to her best friend wavers, especially when she finds out that he is secretly a Mafia Lord trying to hide in plain sight and that her best friend's life is in danger, her loyalty is tested even further. Would she reveal his secret to protect her best friend, or keep it to protect her love?
Married To The Consigliere: The Canary's Revenge
REGINA SIMONDS I was the secret pen pal of Xavier Falcone, the ruthless Heir to the Syndicate.
We spent six months trading ciphers and falling in love in the dark.
But my half-sister Natalie stole my burner phone and claimed my identity as his "Canary."
When I ran through the pouring rain to his territory to tell him the truth, his eyes were devoid of mercy.
He believed her lies about my jealousy and handed me over to his men without a second thought.
He locked me in his heavily guarded penthouse and forced a laced glass of vintage scotch down my throat.
The cramping started ten minutes later, blood soaking through my white dress as he killed our unborn child.
"A rat does not deserve to bear my blood."
He stood over me with a blank, aristocratic face, mocking me as I bled out on his cold marble floor.
Until my last breath, I didn't understand how the man who wrote me such tender words could be so heartless.
Why did he refuse to recognize my soul? Why did he leave me to die so brutally in the dark?
Opening my eyes again, I was back on the day Natalie pointed a gun at me to steal my phone.
This time, I didn't fight back.
"Take the phone, Natalie. It is yours."
I handed over the man I loved and signed a contract to marry Gabriel Romano, the most lethal architect of death in the Underworld.
In this life, I would rather marry a true monster than ever look at Xavier Falcone again. 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. Married to the Billionaire Mafia Don
Ebony Pete "You're leaving," Lorenzo said softly.
Ivy straightened her spine and raised her chin. "I am. I'm getting out of this place even if it means climbing over the front gates. I can't stay here anymore. I'm leaving!"
"You can't," Lorenzo said flatly. "Not now."
"Watch me," Ivy hissed, brushing past him.
Lorenzo stepped in her way and grabbed her by the arms-not roughly, but firmly.
"I mean it, Ivy. You can't leave," he said tightly.
She struggled against his grip, her bag falling to the floor with a thud.
"Let me go, Lorenzo! I don't belong here. This place is insane. Your family is insane!"
"You belong to me," he said sharply, eyes burning into hers. "And it's my job to protect what's mine."
"I don't want to be yours," Ivy cried. "I want to be free! I want to live!"
Something shifted in Lorenzo's face. He looked at her then, not as an obligation, not as a pawn, but as a person. A frightened, strong, beautiful woman who had been caught in a storm she never asked for. And something in him cracked.
Lorenzo reached down and cupped her face with both hands. Ivy flinched at first but didn't pull away. His thumbs wiped away the tears rolling down her cheeks.
"I never wanted to hurt you," he said quietly.
Her lower lip trembled. "Then let me go..."
"I can't," he whispered.
And then, without thinking, he leaned in and kissed her.
***************
Ivy Wesley believed that marrying a wealthy stranger would be her golden escape from a life of struggle. Lorenzo Martinelli was supposed to be her way out: her fresh start, her answer to every prayer whispered in the dark.
But the moment the mansion doors shut behind her, Ivy understood the truth. She hadn't stepped into a fairy tale. She had walked straight into the lion's den.
The whispers about the Martinelli family's ties to the Mafia aren't just rumors; they're real, and now Ivy is bound to them by a ring on her finger and secrets she can never unlearn. There is no undoing this choice. No clean exit. Not after what she's seen. Not after what she knows.
Surrounded by dangerous alliances, ruthless power plays, and truths sharp enough to draw blood, Ivy finds herself caught in a world where trust is a luxury and loyalty can be lethal. Yet in the middle of the chaos, something even more unexpected takes root: a love she never planned for, never prepared for, and may not survive.
Now Ivy faces an impossible choice: run while she still can, or stand her ground beside the man who could destroy her as easily as he protects her. In a world where betrayal lurks behind every polished smile and devotion can cost a life, can their love endure... or will it be the very thing that brings everything crashing down?