Out Of Town
12 Published Stories
Out Of Town's Books and Stories
Betrayed Heiress: My Husband's Deadly Mistake
Mafia I was eight months pregnant with the heir to the city's most powerful crime family. My husband, Austen, told me he was hosting a private celebration to honor me and the baby.
But when I walked into the warehouse, the steel doors slammed shut behind me.
I wasn't in a ballroom. I was locked inside an industrial glass freezer.
Through the thick glass, I saw Austen standing with his assistant, Deb. They were laughing. He told me he didn't care about his son; he only cared about the trust fund that would unlock upon my father's death.
"Cool her off," he ordered.
His men dumped buckets of ice water onto me. The shock was instant. I begged him to stop, screaming for the life of our child, but he just watched with cold eyes.
As I collapsed into a slush of ice and my own blood, I felt the baby fade away.
Austen thought he had won. He thought my father, the Don, was dead and buried. He thought I was just a helpless, spoiled princess he could dispose of to seize the throne.
He was wrong.
With my last ounce of strength, I looked through the glass and mouthed three words: "He is coming."
Before Austen could react, the warehouse doors didn't just open—they exploded inward.
And through the smoke walked the man Austen thought was worm food.
My father wasn't dead. But my husband was about to wish he was. Bound By Blood: The Billionaire's Contract
Romance I woke up gasping for air, expecting the cold concrete of a prison cell, but my fingers sank into the plush leather of a luxury Lincoln. I was twenty-four again, wearing the silver silk dress from the night my life was systematically destroyed.
Beside me sat my cousin Catrina, the woman whose carefully crafted lies had orchestrated my ruin and sent me to a penitentiary for five years.
In my first life, this was the night the dominoes fell. Catrina stole my jewelry to paint me as mentally unstable, and by morning, I was stripped of my medical license and labeled a criminal. My mother’s family, the Montgomerys, stood by and watched as my father’s company was devoured by wolves, treating my existence like a "liability" that needed to be managed. I still felt the phantom tremors in my hands from prison fights and the stinging betrayal of being discarded by the people I called family.
I had lived through five years of absolute hell, a former surgeon rotting in a cell while the people who framed me toasted to their success at galas I was no longer invited to.
"Don't be selfish, Dawn," Catrina whispered, reaching for the necklace that would later be used as evidence against me. "Let the jewelry shine on someone who actually matters."
She thought I was still the fragile victim she could manipulate, but she didn't realize I had returned from the grave with the cold, clinical calculation of a fixer.
Instead of walking into her trap at the gala, I forced the car onto a dark service road and dragged a dying billionaire, Jennings Stafford, from the wreckage of a burning SUV.
He was the only man powerful enough to destroy my enemies, and as I stitched his wounds with stolen supplies, I didn't ask for a thank you.
I looked him dead in the eye and proposed a contract that would set the world on fire.
"I want a strategic marriage. You get a harmless wife with a legacy name to calm your board, and I get immunity from everyone who ever touched me."
The bill for my five years in prison had finally come due, and I was here to collect. The Billionaire's Surprise: Her Secret Twins
Modern I returned to the Reeves estate after five years in exile, not as the rightful heir, but as an outcast. My father had been dead for only a month, and my uncle Julian had already claimed his mahogany desk, his face tight with a greed he no longer bothered to hide.
Julian didn't even look up as he slid a check for a hundred thousand dollars across the wood. "A settlement," he sneered. "Sign the waiver, take your bastards, and disappear. We don't want you embarrassing the family name anymore."
One hundred thousand dollars for a legacy worth billions—it was an insult designed to draw blood. When my five-year-old twins, Leo and Mia, ran into the room, Julian looked at them with pure disgust, calling them vermin and ordering them out. He threatened that if I didn't sign, I’d be on the street in a week, stripped of the Reeves name and every penny of protection. Even the family lawyer looked away as he helped facilitate my ruin. I tore the check to shreds and walked out into a freezing deluge, shielding my children while the doors of my childhood home slammed shut behind us.
I spent years building a secret life as a high-level corporate fixer, yet when I crossed paths with Branson Reeves—the man who shared my son’s eyes—he treated me like a common gold-digger. He outbid me for the "Midnight Orchid" painting, the only piece of evidence that could bring Julian down, mocking my "thrift store" clothes while my children slept in a borrowed guest room. How could they all be so blind? How could a family be so ready to destroy its own blood for the sake of a ledger?
I was done hiding in the shadows. When Julian finally launched a hostile takeover to seize the entire empire, I walked into Branson’s penthouse, dropped my "poor niece" facade, and threw a decrypted file onto his desk.
"The game is over, Branson. Give me that painting, and I’ll show you exactly how to bury the man who thinks he's already won." A Marriage Built on Lies
Modern To save her family's empire, CEO Eliana King, known as the "Ice Queen," entered an arranged marriage with the rebellious artist Garrett Wolf. She saw him as a chaotic variable to be managed, a business deal. She never expected to be a pawn in his game of love.
The devastating truth was that her husband was desperately in love with his childhood friend and muse, Serena Vance. Their entire marriage was a sham, a shield to protect Serena from his family's judgment, and a tool to make her jealous.
When Eliana tried to divorce him, her own family, who knew the secret all along, had her brutally punished. Later, Garrett publicly forced a kiss on Eliana to provoke his lover, an act that ended with Serena attacking Eliana in a fit of jealous rage.
In the hospital, Garrett's only concern was protecting Serena, proving Eliana's pain meant nothing next to his obsession. She was a tool, utterly disposable.
This final betrayal ignited a fire in the ice. After a violent retaliation, she cut ties with her past and began celebrating her freedom. But the party came to a dead stop when Garrett appeared, his eyes burning with a rage meant only for her. The Lover Who Destroyed Her
Romance I was a rising architect, deeply in love with Ethan Miller, my charismatic colleague who promised me a future. He called me his muse, swore he' d make me his wife. I believed him.
Then came the crisis: a critical error in our biggest project, threatening the whole firm. In the packed conference room, under harsh lights, Ethan pointed directly at me.
"Yes, it was her fault," he stated, clear and steady. The entire room turned. I became a pariah overnight, accused of fraud and disgrace. Colleagues whispered, mentors condemned me. The pain was unbearable, but Ethan only offered cold indifference, his attention now solely on Sarah Jenkins, his junior assistant.
I collapsed in a forgotten office, suffering for days. When I finally found Ethan, he was tenderly bandaging Sarah's minor cut, just as he had in our previous life while I fended for myself. He dragged me away, his fingers digging into my arm. "Sarah' s injury is more pressing, Olivia. Why do you always have to compete with her? She' s delicate."
I tried to leave the firm, but Ethan and the executives forced me to take the fall, signing a brutal severance and an NDA to protect Sarah' s career. Sarah flaunted Ethan' s mother' s watch, the one he' d given me when he proposed in our previous life, and announced their engagement. "Ethan and I are getting married. You'll wish us happiness, won't you?"
Why was he doing this to me again? And why was I so readily accepting my ruin? My spirit was shattered, my body broken, yet I couldn't comprehend the depths of his betrayal, or the sinister logic behind his actions.
But this time, I wouldn't just accept it. The memory of his cruelty, intertwined with the desperate kindness of a childhood friend, would soon chart a new course, away from the torment and into a fight for peace. The Truth Unveiled: A Vengeful Bride
Romance "I don' t want to marry him, Mom." The words were a whisper, a desperate plea from the master suite that was supposed to be my bridal sanctuary. My wedding was tomorrow, everything paid for, hundreds of people coming. Yet my mother, steady as ever, offered a way out: a ticket to Florence.
Just hours before my dream wedding, I stumbled upon a nightmare. From my balcony, soft lights illuminated the shocking truth: my fiancé, Liam, the celebrated tech genius, was locked in a deep, familiar kiss with my stepsister, Chloe. It wasn' t just a stolen moment; it was a betrayal that shattered eight years of my life.
I confronted my father, seeking solace, but he sided with Jessica, Chloe' s manipulative mother, who mocked my pain. He dismissed my feelings, accused me of hysteria, and finally, tragically, raised his hand to me in defense of his new family. The sting on my cheek burned, but it was nothing compared to the agony of knowing my own father chose them over me.
Later, I discovered the true depths of Liam' s deceit. Security footage revealed him admitting I was merely a "ticket in," a stepping stone for his career, while his heart had always belonged to Chloe. He wore her picture in a locket, planning our future while loving her. The man I knew was a carefully constructed lie.
The grief hardened into a cold, fierce resolve. I wouldn' t just disappear. My wedding day would still happen, but it wouldn' t be a celebration of love. It would be my stage for justice, a meticulously planned takedown. I was no longer the victim; I was the architect of their destruction, ready to pull the cornerstone from the empire Liam had built on my lies. Free From Her Shadow
Sci-fi My fiancée, Vivian, looked radiant in her white dress, laughing with another man at our engagement party.
This was the tenth time.
Each prior time, after I caught her betraying me, she would erase my memory of it, leaving me clueless, trapped in a cycle of her infidelity and my manufactured oblivion.
But this time, it was different.
I overheard her bragging to her lover, Kyle, that I, Ethan Miller, would forget everything, and still show up at the altar begging to marry her.
It wasn't just the affair; it was her absolute, casual cruelty.
My doctor had warned me: one more erasure and I risked losing all memories of Vivian, good or bad, forever.
As I stood there, watching her and Kyle, the reality of her manipulation shattered my world.
I confronted them, and in the ensuing chaos, I was left bleeding on the floor as Vivian rushed to Kyle's side, showing him the genuine concern she denied me.
My last hope died that night.
In the hospital, as Vivian prepared to erase my memory again, flashes of all nine past betrayals surged through my mind, a tidal wave of suppressed agony, and then darkness.
I woke up at my own wedding, in a suit I didn' t recognize, with no memory of the woman walking down the aisle.
When Kyle burst in, exposing Vivian' s betrayal, she abandoned me at the altar, running into his arms.
I collapsed, feeling betrayed by a stranger, utterly lost.
I had no idea who Vivian Hayes was, but a powerful, instinctual aversion told me I wanted nothing to do with her.
Refusing to be her victim any longer, I walked away from everything, leaving my old life and her behind.
I found a new path, a new identity in the boxing ring.
But just as I reached the pinnacle of my new career, Kyle reappeared, revealing Vivian once again manipulated my life, ensuring my championship win was a staged farce.
My rage, the phantom pain of nine forgotten betrayals, finally found its true target.
I slammed the championship belt to the floor, telling her it was all a lie, and banished her from my life forever.
I don't need to remember the details. I know, in my bones, what she is.
Now, a legendary trainer has offered me a fresh start in Italy, a place where her ghosts can't reach me.
This time, I' m building a life for myself, by myself, on my own terms. Broken Man, Unbreakable Spirit
Romance The air in my tiny apartment was heavy with the scent of lavender and burnt toast, a comfort that would soon become a sickening memory.
My vintage Gibson, a direct link to my family' s musical legacy, rested on my bed – destined to be sold to save the woman I loved.
"Are you sure about this, Alex?" Chloe asked, her voice laced with what I, foolishly, believed was genuine concern for her supposed terminal illness.
But the moment the camera started rolling, the painful truth became devastatingly clear.
Mark Johnson, Chloe' s ex, swaggered in, her hand intertwined with his, their faces twisted in triumphant sneers.
"He' s such a pathetic loser," Chloe laughed, her voice bright and utterly devoid of the weakness she had been faking for a month.
Every loving glance, every shared secret, every sacrifice I' d made for her was just a calculated move in their cruel game of revenge for a two-year-old scholarship.
They wanted to humiliate me, to shatter my music, and to break my spirit for their twisted amusement, and they wanted it all on camera.
They beat me, left my arm broken and my heart in ruins, filming every agonizing second for their viral masterpiece.
Why would anyone, let alone the woman I' d given everything to, orchestrate such a monstrous betrayal?
How could I have been so blind?
But as I lay there, broken and bleeding on the cold studio floor, my phone buzzed with an unknown London number.
A single call, a deceased grandfather, and a substantial inheritance became my unexpected lifeline, a way out of the abyss.
I was broken, but not defeated.
I would clean up their mess, not for revenge, but for my own survival.
The desperate fool they knew was dead.
And the man who rose from his ashes would burn their world to the ground. Love in the Ashes
Romance The dusty box held my father' s medal, a cold, heavy relic of a life shattered too soon.
Then the call came – a hospital, an unfamiliar number, and the dreaded news: my brother, Michael, was brutally attacked, barely clinging to life.
Memories flooded me: my father's dying wish to protect Michael, the years I spent raising him, only for this monstrous injustice to strike.
General Sterling, my father's esteemed colleague, watched with unreadable eyes, while Thorne, the man responsible, sneered about a "bar fight" and sent me chilling threats.
Police dismissed my pleas, the media shut down my story, and even Sterling' s socialite fiancée, Victoria, joined the chorus of dismissal, forcing me to confront Thorne alone and sparking a silent battle within me to unveil the truth my brother nearly died for. The Venomous Wife's New Victim
Romance I gasped, air burning my lungs, and woke up in my boyhood room, fifteen years in the past.
My nightmare, my first brutal life at the hands of my venomous wife Tiff and her associate Marcus Thorne, was seemingly over.
But then, my adoptive brother Kyle, with a greedy glint in his eye, declared at breakfast, "I want Tiff!"
He remembered. Kyle, the arrogant fool, was reborn too, still chasing the very woman who had orchestrated my destruction.
A cold, fierce joy ignited in me as I considered the drugs, the abuse, the helplessness I' d suffered in my past life at Tiff' s command.
He was blindly walking into the same web of torment, envious of a "glamorous" life that had been my personal hell.
The injustice of it, the sickening realization that he desired the very chains that had bound me, fueled a grim resolve.
I died believing I was discarded trash, and Kyle' s casual disdain for everyone else had festered in my first life.
But never again would I be a victim; this was my chance for justice, for everyone she' d hurt.
"If Kyle prefers Tiffany," I said, meeting my adoptive father' s surprised gaze, "I have no objection to marrying Olivia Vance."
My first move in a game of fate and vengeance had just been played. His Calculated Betrayal
Fantasy My name was Seraphina, Guardian of the Veil in Aethelburg, blessed with a loving husband, Malakor, and our son, Kael.
My sacred duty was to ensure souls found serene passage into their next lives, maintaining cosmic balance.
But then, something unthinkable happened: the Draught was secretly replaced, unleashing chaos upon Earth as souls were reborn remembering ancient pains.
I, the Guardian, was blamed for this "Calamity" and unjustly banished to the harrowing Wailing Chasm for five torturous centuries.
When I finally returned, a shadow of my former self, clinging to hope, my dearest husband and son greeted me with what seemed like true sorrow and unwavering belief.
Yet, a horrifying secret, overheard by chance, tore my fragile world apart.
It was revealed that Malakor sacrificed me to protect his ambitious sister, Lyra, who had orchestrated the entire catastrophe, using our own son, Kael, as her unwitting pawn.
The family I adored had betrayed me, allowing me to suffer unimaginable torment just to preserve their status and shield Lyra' s cruel games.
The shock, the sheer injustice, transformed my despair into a scorching rage as I saw the true depths of their calculated cruelty.
I realized their reunion was a calculated lie, designed to break me further, and Lyra even stole my sacred ancestral robes, gloating in her victory.
My only escape, my last hope, lay in the ancient Cipher of Thresholds, an artifact passed down through my lineage.
I meticulously prepared my escape, leaving behind every last vestige of the life they had so casually destroyed.
With the Cipher, I opened a gateway, choosing freedom and a new beginning over lingering in the ashes of their betrayal.
I stepped through, severing every tie to Aethelburg, determined to rebuild a life where their shadows could never reach me again. 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. Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles
Dorine Koestler I watched my husband sign the papers that would end our marriage while he was busy texting the woman he actually loved.
He didn't even glance at the header. He just scribbled the sharp, jagged signature that had signed death warrants for half of New York, tossed the file onto the passenger seat, and tapped his screen again.
"Done," he said, his voice devoid of emotion.
That was Dante Moretti. The Underboss. A man who could smell a lie from a mile away but couldn't see that his wife had just handed him an annulment decree disguised beneath a stack of mundane logistics reports.
For three years, I scrubbed his blood out of his shirts. I saved his family's alliance when his ex, Sofia, ran off with a civilian.
In return, he treated me like furniture.
He left me in the rain to save Sofia from a broken nail. He left me alone on my birthday to drink champagne on a yacht with her. He even handed me a glass of whiskey—her favorite drink—forgetting that I despised the taste.
I was merely a placeholder. A ghost in my own home.
So, I stopped waiting. I burned our wedding portrait in the fireplace, left my platinum ring in the ashes, and boarded a one-way flight to San Francisco.
I thought I was finally free. I thought I had escaped the cage.
But I underestimated Dante.
When he finally opened that file weeks later and realized he had signed away his wife without looking, the Reaper didn't accept defeat.
He burned down the world to find me, obsessed with reclaiming the woman he had already thrown away. To Ruin Him, I Married His Rival
Rabbit Andrew Hebert, the man who promised to protect me, stood on a stage and announced his engagement to my tormentor. It wasn't just heartbreak; it was a business deal. He was selling me to a creditor to cover his gambling debts.
The applause of the powerful families was a death sentence, each clap sealing my fate as collateral. Andrew had paraded me here just to show everyone I was an asset to be liquidated, while his new fiancée smirked at me from the stage.
I was trapped, with no money and no one to turn to. The man I loved was leading me to the slaughter.
But as I fled into the library, a voice emerged from the shadows, deep and dangerous.
Damien Maddox. The Dark Don. The only man Andrew feared.
He offered me a different kind of cage, one with the power to burn Andrew's world to the ground.
With nothing left to lose, I looked the devil in the eyes.
"Take me with you." Married To My Mysterious Ex-Con Husband
Flying Free My father bailed a violent ex-con out of prison just to force me into a marriage with him. I stood in a filthy Bronx hallway, my Vera Wang gown dragging through the grime, knowing this was the price for my mother’s life. If I didn't marry the man behind the steel door, the wire transfer for her hospital ventilator wouldn't go through the next morning.
The man, a scarred giant named Dock, treated me with cold contempt, telling me he didn't touch things he didn't want—and he didn't want a "Jacobson." I thought I had hit rock bottom, tied to a criminal while my family lived in luxury. But the nightmare was just beginning.
When I tried to return my wedding dress to pay for rent, my sister Janie and stepmother found me. They laughed as security dragged me out of the boutique, calling me a "charity case." When I finally crawled back to our family manor to beg for the money my father had promised, Janie revealed the horrific truth. She had liquidated my mother’s medical trust to fund a waterfront real estate project.
"Get out and let your mother rot," she screamed, throwing a glass of ice water in my face before having guards dump me in the dirt. I knelt on the gravel, wet and bleeding, realizing my own flesh and blood had signed my mother's death warrant for a profit. I had nothing left—no money, no home, and a husband who was supposed to be a monster.
I didn't understand why they hated me so much, or how I would survive the night. But then, a black car screeched to a halt in front of me. Dock pulled me inside, his eyes burning with a lethal coldness I’d never seen in a common thug.
As he wiped the blood from my hands, he picked up a encrypted phone and gave a single command.
"Initiate Project Titan. I want the Jacobson Group insolvent by Friday."
I looked at the man I thought was a broke felon, realizing I hadn't just married a stranger—I had married the most dangerous man in the city, and he was about to burn my family's world to the ground. When Love Rebuilds From Frozen Hearts
Landslide On the night of my career-defining art exhibition, I stood completely alone. My husband, Dante Sovrano, the most feared man in Chicago, had promised he wouldn’t miss it for the world. Instead, he was on the evening news.
He was shielding another woman—his ruthless business partner—from a downpour, letting his own thousand-dollar suit get soaked just to protect her. The headline flashed below them, calling their new alliance a "power move" that would reshape the city.
The guests at my gallery immediately began to whisper. Their pitying looks turned my greatest triumph into a public spectacle of humiliation. Then his text arrived, a cold, final confirmation of my place in his life: “Something came up. Isabella needed me. You understand. Business.”
For four years, I had been his possession. A quiet, artistic wife kept in a gilded cage on the top floor of his skyscraper. I poured all my loneliness and heartbreak onto my canvases, but he never truly saw my art. He never truly saw me. He just saw another one of his assets.
My heart didn't break that night. It turned to ice. He hadn't just neglected me; he had erased me.
So the next morning, I walked into his office and handed him a stack of gallery contracts.
He barely glanced up, annoyed at the interruption to his empire-building. He snatched the pen and signed on the line I’d marked.
He didn’t know the page tucked directly underneath was our divorce decree.
He had just signed away his wife like she was nothing more than an invoice for art supplies. 
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