P.T.Chuks
6 Published Stories
P.T.Chuks's Books and Stories
Your Savage Son-in-law Is Back!
Modern Synopsis:
Young master Dominic Thales was once a respected figure in his family’s wealthy empire but he fell into a coma after a mysterious accident that left him incapacitated for three years.
During his coma, his newly wedded wife Brielle, who was six months pregnant at the time of the accident, received unwavering support from Dominic’s family.
However, tragedy struck the Thales group, sending their fortunes into doom.
With the financial crisis, Brielle was forcefully separated from her husband and her newly borns were taken under by her family.
Seven long years later, Dominic awakens, but he is no longer the revered young master. His beloved wife is gone, and his kids are under a different name.
Determined to reclaim his family, wealth, and the love he lost, Dominic fights back at his in-laws.
Sir Damien's Contracted Wife
Romance Title: Sir Damien’s Contracted Wife.
Synopsis: Arya was all Damien wanted in a woman. Neat, smart, passionate and responded to worries like they were hers.
The only problem was, her only memory of him was as a boy who stalked her, diagnosed with yandere syndrome that made her life a living hell.
He had a chance to her, when the father asked for the girl to be in an arranged marriage with a rich man as a way to gain money to pay her dead mother’s debts.
Arya had no choice so collaborated with Sir Damien, a man she assumed was her sister’s boyfriend, to be his arranged wife. Being the CEO of three powerful companies, her father quickly picked him.
But Sir Damien lied, he lied to Arya that their marriage was only a formality and she could leave once she found true love.
He didn’t mean a word. He’d make sure that he was her end. Her true love.
His beautiful plans of having her as his became faulty when Arya’s long time crush, the son of his governor, began reciprocating Arya’s feelings.
And his contracted wife might not be the only thing his rival was after.
Searching for Love, Found Wealth
Romance
Looks weren't all that important. Those bullies want to smear it in her face that she was less important.
Kiera John. She was proud of her name. When at middle school she got rained with different insulting names, she didn't find it very funny.
Well things changed when her long lost boy best friend came back to their part of the town and soon she got exposed to a less toxic world.
She even got to be friends with a popular guy at school and thought perhaps her life could change to be the "ideal teen girl's life". But of course, bullying is still part of teenage life.
Becoming popular at school was the least of her wants but if she had to be to earn her respects and protect her friends, then she would.
Cara Adams, a heartless shitty girl who was crushed on by virtually all the boys from the top best schools at Washington, was set to destroy her by all means. Not wanting to share her crown as Queen of Javin high school, Cara devises ways of shaming our young fighter.
Of course, when your boy best friend is a popular teen model and your school half-crush is the popular and cute Jasper, you might get an inch of survival from a devil like Cara.
Still Cara wasn't buying it.
Friends and families play an important role in changing Kiera's perspective of life. She realizes she need not hate her looks and aimed more on accepting herself.
Fate also slowly made her realize that "Hate is taught. Love is natural".
Her family later was revealed to be the powerful Martinez family with a dirty secret and bad name. Creating another seemingly endless case of courts, rights and inheritance.
Join Kiera in her bid to prove to the world that she isn't much of the everyday teenager.
Painful Smiles
Billionaires Synopsis:
When twin sisters are exact opposite but somehow gets entangled with the same guy.
Michael Louis was a twelve year old young CEO who after the death of his mother lost interest in this world. He was tired of living hence attempted suicide.
Claudia Larabee, the opposite twin of Clara Larabee, had suffered much unfairness by her family.
For the twelve years of her life, her sister had been a thorn in her flesh. Amidst the wickedness her sister had shown her was forcing a nurse to suck blood from her as donation to some young heir. The consequence of that action, Claudia didn't really recover from.
Claudia, unknown to her, had become a reason a young boy had to live.
Yearning to meet her for once in his life, Michael stumbles upon her wrong twin, Clara.
Years later, he returns to find her again.
The journey he makes to establish a lasting relationship proves dangerous to Claudia, as her wicked twin gets a rich and dangerous friend.
Would Michael realize he's falling for the wrong twin? Or would fate forever give Claudia painful smiles?
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Ex-Wife, Please Have Some Self-Respect
Fritz Heaney I was driving through a rainstorm in upstate New York, pushing my old Volvo to the limit just to pick up a Dior gown for my wife, Catarina. She needed it for a gala tonight, where she planned to spend the evening standing next to the man she actually loved, Atticus Deleon.
The truck hit me head-on, crossing the center line and sending my car rolling down an embankment in a shriek of twisted metal and shattered glass. As the steering column crushed my chest, my brain didn't see a white light; it was pried open by a digital tsunami, flooding my mind with the "Quantum Archive"-billions of data points on surgery, high-frequency trading, and combat.
I woke up in the ICU with three broken ribs and a concussion, but the only thing waiting for me was a screaming voicemail from my wife's assistant.
"Jorden, where the hell are you? Catarina has been waiting for thirty minutes! You are so incompetent it's actually impressive."
There was no "Are you okay?" or "Are you alive?"-only fury over a ruined dress and a missing tie. While I was being resuscitated, my wife was on Instagram, singing "Endless Love" with Atticus and laughing at my "tantrum." She even called the family lawyer to freeze my credit cards, wanting to make sure I couldn't even buy a coffee without her permission.
For three years, I had been the "useful husband," the doormat who apologized whenever she stepped on my toes. But the accident had overwritten my desperation with cold, hard logic, and I realized I had almost died for a woman who viewed me as a liability with a negative return on investment.
When Catarina finally stormed into my hospital room to demand an apology for ruining her night, I didn't look at her with the usual puppy-dog eyes. I looked at her with ice in my veins and handed her a manila envelope I had drafted myself.
"Sign the divorce papers, Ms. Evans. I'm done being your canary." The Discarded Husband's Spectacular Comeback
Qian Mo Mo I spent three hours searing the perfect wagyu steak and chilling a bottle of 1996 Dom Pérignon for our anniversary. My wife, Evelin, texted me saying she was stuck in a late board meeting.
"Don't wait up."
But a bank alert on my phone told a different story: a $5,600 charge at a VIP lounge in the Meatpacking District. When I tracked her down, I didn't find her in a boardroom; I found her sitting on my business partner's lap, laughing as he fed her chocolate-covered strawberries.
When I confronted them, Evelin didn't even look guilty. She called me hysterical and a "prude" for interrupting their night. Hank mocked me to my face, calling me a pathetic "trophy husband" who was probably home ironing napkins while they were out having real fun. When I finally snapped and defended my dignity, my own wife slapped me across the face and had her security throw me out like trash.
"You are nothing without the Carney name. You're a stray I picked up."
By the time I hit the sidewalk, she had frozen all our joint accounts and blacklisted my name from every major firm in the city. I had spent ten years managing her family's billions and fixing the books her lover messed up, only to be left with ten dollars in my pocket and a suitcase full of dusty law books. She thinks I'm a broken man who will come crawling back to beg for mercy just to afford a meal.
I realized then that our marriage was just a corpse I'd been dragging around, and she was the monster who had killed it years ago. I felt the sting of her slap and the weight of her betrayal, wondering how I could have been so blind to the person I shared a bed with.
Standing in a cramped apartment in Queens, I blocked her number and called a "shark" lawyer I hadn't spoken to since law school.
"I'm the biggest shark in the tank, Dom. Let her try to ruin you."
Evelin thinks she took everything, but she forgot one thing: I'm the one who knows exactly where the bodies are buried in her family's ledgers. The war has just begun. Midas Protocol: Seducing My Rival's Wife
Breenda I sat in the freezing conference room, my knuckles white as I strangled a cheap plastic pen. Outside, Manhattan was weeping in the gray rain, but inside, the air was sterile and dead. I stared at the polished mahogany table, seeing the distorted reflection of a man who hadn't slept in forty-eight hours—a man about to sign his own divorce papers.
Across from me, my wife Linda wouldn't even look at me. She was too busy drumming her fingers near a diamond ring that cost more than I had made in the last five years combined. Then the door swung open, and Simon Thorne walked in. The billionaire heir didn't say a word; he just walked behind Linda and placed a heavy, possessive hand on her shoulder, marking her as his.
"Let's wrap this up," Simon said, checking his Patek Philippe with the bored tone of a man ordering a coffee he didn't want. Linda finally looked through me like I was a ghost and told me to stop dragging this out. She whispered that I couldn't even afford myself anymore, a physical punch to the gut given I’d lost my job three weeks ago. After I signed, Simon flicked a business card at me, mockingly offering me a job as a doorman for minimum wage.
I walked out into the downpour, shivering in a suit I couldn't afford to dry clean. My phone vibrated with a text from my landlord: "Pack your things. Keys by tonight or I’m calling the cops." I stood on the corner of 5th Avenue with exactly $42.18 to my name, watching Simon kiss my wife through the glass wall of the penthouse. I was thirty, homeless, and drowning in a city of lions.
I wanted to roar until my throat bled, but I just stood there, a drowned rat in a world of predators. How could I have lost everything so fast? Why was the woman who promised to stay through "for poorer" now leaning into the arms of the man who just humiliated me?
Suddenly, my phone screen exploded with a blinding golden light. An app called the Midas Protocol installed itself, declaring poverty a disease and itself the cure. With one tap, a million dollars bypassed a federal hold and hit my account, and a "Nemesis Card" appeared in my digital inventory. I didn't hesitate. I typed Simon Thorne’s name into the vengeance algorithm and hit execute. The game had officially changed. The Ex-Fiancé You Can't Afford To Lose
Madel Cerda I stood in the ballroom with a diamond ring in my pocket, waiting to be crowned King of the empire I had built from the ground up.
Instead, the woman I loved walked to the microphone and signed my death warrant with a smile.
Serena didn't announce our engagement.
She announced that Luca Moretti—an incompetent associate I'd almost fired three times—was the new Underboss and her partner in life.
Then, she kissed him. Deep and possessive, right in front of the entire Commission.
My heart didn't break; it simply stopped.
Luca smirked at me, wearing a suit that was too tight, while Serena looked at me with cold, dead eyes.
"Dante is the old guard," she told the crowd, dismissing me like a waiter. "We are moving in a new direction."
They stripped me of my title. They humiliated me on live television. They thought they had taken my crown.
But they forgot one crucial detail.
I was the Architect.
I had built the encrypted logistics system that kept the FBI in the dark. A system that required my specific biometric code every morning to function.
I didn't make a scene. I didn't scream. I simply placed the ring on a waiter's tray and walked out into the night.
Forty-eight hours later, the Vitiello empire was in a freefall. The accounts were frozen. The shipments were flagged.
My phone buzzed. It was Serena.
"Dante," she panicked, her voice trembling. "Fix it. Now."
I took a sip of my espresso and smiled at the chaos on the news.
"I'm afraid I can't do that, Serena. You fired the only pilot who knows how to fly the plane." 
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