Rabbit
108 Published Stories
Rabbit's Books and Stories
I Signed the Divorce, He Lost Everything
Romance 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. Burned By Him, Reborn A Star
Romance The acrid smell of smoke still clung to Evelyn in the ambulance, her lungs raw from the penthouse fire. She was alive, but the world around her felt utterly destroyed, a feeling deepened by the small TV flickering to life. On it, her husband, Julian Vance, thousands of miles away, publicly comforted his mistress, Serena Holloway, shielding her from paparazzi after *her* "panic attack."
Julian's phone went straight to voicemail. Alone in the hospital with second-degree burns, Evelyn watched news replays, her heart rate spiking. He protected Serena from camera flashes while Evelyn burned. When he finally called, he demanded she handle insurance, dismissing the fire; Serena's voice faintly heard.
The shallow family ties and pretense of marriage evaporated. A searing injustice and cold anger replaced pain; Evelyn knew Julian had chosen to let her burn.
"Evelyn Vance died in that fire," she declared, ripping out her IV. Armed with a secret fortune as "The Architect," Hollywood's top ghostwriter, she walked out. She would divorce Julian, reclaim her name, and finally step into the spotlight as an actress. From a Broken Omega to the Northern Queen
Werewolf After seven years in a dungeon for a crime I didn't commit, my fated mate, the Alpha who let them drag me away, finally opened my cell door.
He announced I would take my place as his Luna, not out of love, but because the law demanded it.
But the moment a frantic mind-link came through that his precious Seraphina-my adopted sister, the one who framed me-was having trouble breathing, he abandoned me without a second glance.
That night, huddled in a dusty shack, I overheard my own parents' secret conversation. They were planning to have me exiled. Permanently.
My return had upset Seraphina, and her "weak heart" couldn't take the shock.
I lay there in the darkness, feeling nothing. Not surprise. Not even pain. Just a profound, empty coldness. They were casting me out. Again.
But as they plotted my exile, a secret message arrived for me-an offer of escape. A new life in a sanctuary far to the north, where I could leave the Blackmoon Pack behind forever.
They thought they were getting rid of me.
Little did they know, I was already gone.
After My Husband Cheated, I Married His Greatest Rival
Romance The rain assaulted the glass, mirroring the storm inside me. For three years, I, Vivian Sterling, played the perfect wife to Julian Kensington, draining my life. The antique clock ticked, a reminder of time lost.
Then, I found it: a blonde hair on Julian's suit, reeking of Midnight Rose, and a text, ""Candy: You left your cufflinks on my nightstand. I'm already missing you."" My world shattered, revealing his betrayal.
This was just the beginning. I exposed Julian's fraud and his family's violent plots, surviving assassination. But their malice stole my past. Then Alexander Vance, my protector, uncovered a terrifying truth: my birth mother was alive, held captive by a shadowy order. My life was a lie, built to shield me from my dangerous bloodline.
I found strength and love with Alexander, the man who walked into fire for me. Yet, as I prepared to rescue my mother, a new life stirred within me, a secret threatening to complicate the impending war. Living in Her Shadow
Modern I had spent six years as a secret, my relationship with Ethan hidden from my family, dismissing their attempts to set me up with a "serious" doctor.
Then, a drunken comment revealed the truth: I was just a stand-in, a convenient replacement for Chloe Davis, Ethan's high-school sweetheart who had suddenly re-entered his life.
Chloe wasted no time, returning with calculated malice to reclaim Ethan, subtly manipulating him while openly belittling me, culminating in a deliberately staged "accident" at a party that left my dominant hand severely injured.
When I was finally hurt and bleeding in the ER, Ethan, preoccupied with Chloe, dismissed my pain to the nurse as "melodrama," a cold, brutal word that shattered what little was left of my heart.
In that moment of crushing betrayal and utter emptiness, I knew I had to choose myself. I deleted him from my life, packed my bags, and, with a one-way ticket, walked away from six years of lies to reclaim my life, finding my true path with an unexpected, kind stranger. Remembered Too Late
Modern My husband, Roger Harvey, was a renowned top-tier lawyer in the industry, but he could never remember anything outside of his cases.
He never remembered my birthday or our wedding anniversary.
Every night he stood at the bedroom door and asked politely yet distantly, "Is this the one?"
He could not even remember my name or what I looked like.
To make him "remember" me, I hung our wedding photo on the wall with a label underneath. "Anniversary: May 20."
I put a nameplate on the bedroom door that read "Bedroom."
I even labeled everything in the house with sticky notes that explained in detail how to use each item and its background.
I thought it was a side effect of his high-pressure job, so I never complained.
That changed the day a multi-car pileup sent both me and his childhood friend, Sylvie Gordon, into the emergency room at the same time.
He rushed frantically to Sylvie's bedside and shouted in a clear, urgent voice, "She has tachycardia. She caught a cold last month but no fever."
The nurse handling the rescue grabbed him and asked, "Sir, your wife is also seriously injured. Does she have any medical history or allergies?"
He turned his head, looked at me covered in blood, and shook his head blankly. "I don't remember."
In that moment I finally understood. He was not forgetful. His memory was astonishingly sharp.
He simply reserved that precise, precious memory for someone else.
Everything about me he had never cared to keep in his heart.
This was a dramatic tug-of-war between love and betrayal.
It was a heart-wrenching journey of self-redemption.
Yet when I decided to leave, he was suddenly filled with panic... The Alpha's Rejected and Reborn Mate
Werewolf My mate, Alpha Alaric, who had been my protector since I was a child, was holding his bonding ceremony with another woman.
When his chosen Luna, Seraphina, arrived at the pack house, she glided up the stairs and offered me a small "welcome gift."
It was a delicate bracelet, intricately woven from pure silver.
To werewolves, silver is agony. It burns our skin, seeps into our blood, and prevents our healing.
I flinched back, but Alaric's voice boomed from the bottom of the stairs, laced with the undeniable force of his Alpha's Command. "Take it, Elara."
The command wrapped around my will, forcing my hand forward.
"Don't disrespect your future Luna," he added, his voice cold.
The moment the metal touched my skin, a sharp, white-hot pain shot up my arm. I looked from the searing silver on my wrist to Alaric's impassive face, and the last, fragile ember of hope inside me died.
He hadn't just forgotten his affection for me; he had forgotten the one thing that could truly hurt me.
With my head held high, I turned and walked away. The silver thorn on my wrist was a constant, agonizing promise of the freedom that was to come. Reborn Rich, My Vengeance Rises
Romance My husband, Ethan Vance, made me his trophy wife. My best friend, Susanna Thorne, helped me pick out my wedding dress. Together, they made me a fool.
For three years, I was Mrs. Ethan Vance, a decorative silence in his billion-dollar world, living a quiet routine until a forgotten phone charger led me to his office.
The low, feminine laugh from behind his door was a gut-punch; inside, I found Ethan and Susanna, my "best friend" and his CMO, tangled on his sofa, his only reaction irritation.
My divorce declaration brought immediate scorn and threats. I was fired, my accounts frozen, and publicly smeared as an unstable gold-digger. Even my own family disowned me for my last cent, only for me to be framed for assault and served a restraining order.
Broke, injured, and utterly demonized, they believed I was broken, too ashamed to fight. But their audacious betrayal and relentless cruelty only forged a cold, unyielding resolve.
Slumped alone, a restraining order in hand, I remembered my hidden journal: a log of Ethan's insider trading secrets. They wanted a monster? I would show them one. My Ex Became My Sister-in-Law
Modern On the day Izabella Dobson learned she was two months pregnant, she was also diagnosed with terminal liver cancer.
Sitting in the taxi, the doctor's words echoed in her ears again.
"Miss Dobson, your body is weaker than most. An abortion now would accelerate the cancer. You have only three months left. Why not go home and discuss chemotherapy with your family? You're still so young..."
Izabella folded the report and slipped it into a hidden compartment in her bag. She let out a soft, bitter laugh.
Ever since her father pressured her into a marriage of convenience with Carson's brother, a terminally ill man, for familial obligations, she had lost her family.
Her husband had long passed away, and Carson harbored a deep-seated resentment towards her.
As revenge, he publicly declared he would marry her stepsister.
He was eager to witness her suffering, waiting for her to express regret.
Yet, little did he know that on their wedding day, Izabella, frail and serene, lay in her hospital bed with her eyes gently closing.
Carson, we can finally release each other from this pain... Blind Box Bride Escaped and He Lost It
Romance The business world's reigning emperor, Ian Wade, was a lunatic.
He locked a hundred women inside a villa and treated them like blind-box prizes. Pulling one at random, he would marry whoever he drew.
Everyone thought getting picked was luck. Only I knew it was a curse.
In my last life, I was the one whose name came up.
After being reborn, I planned to destroy the magnetic strip on the blind box and dodge that twisted fate altogether.
But by some cruel twist of chance, I still ended up being the "lucky" one.
On the wedding day, history repeated itself.
Ian took a phone call, panic flashing across his face as he tore off his boutonniere.
"Jemma doesn't want to marry. She's threatening suicide. I have to go get her," he said.
The man who was supposed to marry Jemma Lane-Leland Riley, the Crownport's golden heir, stormed in, radiating icy fury.
He didn't chase after the runaway bride. Instead, he walked straight up to me and looked me over from head to toe.
"Ian ran off with my wife," Leland said, grabbing my chin.
"His debt becomes yours. You marry me. Fair enough, right?" She Dated a Powerful Figure after Cancelling her Engagement
Romance Within the elite social circles of Bexwell, one topic never ceased to captivate everyone: the arranged marriage from childhood between Brad Simpson, the playful scion of the Simpson family, and Bella Shaw, the most well-mannered daughter of the Shaw family.
Bella learned to play the piano from a young age and was selected into the national classical dance troupe at ten. She was groomed to become the most elegant young lady.
On the other hand, Brad started racing cars, wingsuit flying, and skydiving without a license by the age of fifteen. He had landed himself in the hospital countless times due to his thrill-seeking, extreme sports antics.
Brad and Bella had totally different personalities, but they were forced to grow up as childhood companions due to the friendship between the Simpson and Shaw families.
Although they had their clashing temperaments, they had been close to each other for over twenty years.
In others' eyes, they were seen as a unique match made in heaven.
Since they were kids, their family members always teased them. Bella always believed that she would marry Brad.
So, on the day of their sixth anniversary, when Bella saw the wordless photo Brad posted on his social media, her mind went blank for a moment.
In the photo, the woman's face was not visible, but her strapless dress revealed an impressive cleavage. The most eye-catching detail was the striking tattoo on her left chest-Drunk.
Drunk was Brad's nickname. Reclaiming the Empire
Modern At the family banquet welcoming the return of the true daughter, my wealthy adoptive parents publicly announced that I should transfer the shares in my name to the "wronged" true daughter.
All the guests praised my parents for their fairness and congratulated the true daughter on her hardships finally coming to an end.
Relatives gathered around to persuade me. "You enjoyed twenty years of wealth that should have belonged to her. Giving up the shares is the right thing to do. You should know how to be grateful."
My husband Javier Andrews, married to me for only half a year, also stepped forward and gently advised me. "Michelle, this originally belonged to your sister. Give it back to her. From now on, I'll take care of you."
Everyone praised him for his deep affection and commended my adoptive parents for their justice, waiting for me to put on a show of sisterly love.
Instead, I picked up the red wine from the table, walked over to the pitiful-looking true daughter, and smiling, poured the wine over her head.
The entire room erupted in shock.
My adoptive father, Kaiden Walsh, trembled with rage, pointing at me and cursing. "You ungrateful wretch!"
Javier looked utterly disappointed. "Are you really that jealous of her? Do you have to make such an ugly scene?"
I casually set down the empty glass and said lightly. "Ugly? I think this color suits her quite well." My Ex-boyfriend Regretted after I Left Him
Modern Kaelyn Morley was known in Astrofleah as a pure and beautiful woman, and many young men from wealthy families dreamed of marrying her.
Yet now, her private video was spreading wildly, causing a continuous plummet in the share price of the Morley Group.
Many business partners were canceling contracts with the Morley Group, and her father was so angry that he was hospitalized due to a cerebral hemorrhage.
But Kaelyn didn't look angry but numb at that moment just because it was one of the 99 trials imposed on her by Madelynn, Dobson, the childhood friend of Kaelyn's boyfriend, Andres Warren.
Andres had claimed that he would focus solely on his career before thirty years old and wouldn't have a romantic relationship.
Yet, he fell for Kaelyn at first sight and pursued her fervently for two years before finally winning her heart.
Madelynn resented him for breaking his promise, so she targeted Kaelyn with various schemes and promised that Kaelyn could marry Andres if she passed the trials and that she would have to give him up if she failed.
Kaelyn had believed that her love for Andres would be enough to pass those trials, and she didn't notice the triumphant smile on Madelynn's lips.
Time and again, she endured the hurt inflicted in the name of these tests.
Until one day, when an unwelcome hand slid under her skirt, Kaelyn let out a piercing scream and slapped the sleazy and imposing man hard.
After he left, cursing, she finally collapsed into tears after holding it in for so long. It was the 99th time, and she couldn't bear it any longer. From His Captive Doll To The World's Unstoppable Queen
Romance Everyone in Manhattan envied me for being married to Julian Sterling, the "Saint of Wall Street." After a tragic accident ended my ballet career, he was the ultimate devoted husband, carrying me when I couldn't walk and managing my "mental episodes" with saintly patience.
But inside our fifty-million-dollar penthouse, my savior was actually my jailer. I started losing time and forgetting entire days, while Julian insisted my "trauma" was making me lose my mind, forcing me to take heavy sedatives he personally prepared.
The horror peaked when I discovered my disability was a lie; Julian had been paying my surgeon to inject neurotoxins into my ankle just to keep me dependent. He used deepfakes to convince the world I was psychotic, all while secretly harvesting my eggs to create an heir I never knew existed.
I spent years mourning the life he stole, wondering how the man who once took a bullet for me could be the same monster who watched my bones shatter with a smile.
Finding my stolen son being used as a pawn in his sick legacy was the final straw.
Julian thought he broke my wings, but he only taught me how to hunt.
He stole my life, my body, and my child.
Now, I'm coming to take them all back. 
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