Shadow Alasia
10 Published Stories
Shadow Alasia's Books and Stories
My Ex-Husband's Regret, My New Beginning
Modern For ten years, I poured my family's fortune and my entire life into building my husband, Corbin, into an architectural star. I was the perfect wife, the silent partner behind his success.
Then, on our anniversary, he brought his "muse," Kallie, and publicly humiliated me for her.
He let her stain my Porsche, then brought her to our home. I found her in my bedroom, wearing my clothes, after she'd broken our wedding photo. He screamed at me, demanding I apologize to her.
He called me materialistic and cruel, the very man whose lavish life I had single-handedly funded. But the final straw wasn't even finding them in bed together.
It was when his mistress cornered me, claiming she was pregnant to force me to let him go.
I just smiled, signed the divorce papers, and booked a one-way ticket to Europe. It was time to reclaim the life he stole. The Ruthless Billionaire's Obsessive Pursuit
Modern Gabriella Henson returned to New York after ten years, ready to start her new life as an attending surgeon and finally reunite with her childhood sweetheart, Jerrell.
But her fresh start shattered the moment she accidentally got into the unlicensed black Maybach of Emmett Kane, a ruthless, obsessive billionaire who immediately locked his sights on her.
He crashed her welcome-back dinner, radiating a terrifying dominance. He grabbed her wrist, ate directly from her spoon, and publicly exposed that she had his personal number to humiliate her.
Then, Emmett dropped a bomb that destroyed her world. He casually revealed that Jerrell, the man acting as her perfect protector, was secretly engaged to a wealthy senator's daughter for political power.
Jerrell's golden-boy image instantly crumbled into panic, proving the betrayal was real. Meanwhile, Emmett's bulletproof SUV stalked her into the night, his dark eyes filled with a terrifying, quiet rage and an absolute need to conquer her.
Ten years ago, Jerrell's elitist mother had humiliated Gabriella and chased her out of the city like trash. Now, the man she trusted had betrayed her, and a psychotic billionaire was treating her like his personal prey. Why was she always a pawn for these arrogant, wealthy families?
Just as she swore to cut ties with them forever, her hospital pager flashed a Code Red. The bloody VIP trauma patient wheeled into her ER was Jerrell's mother.
"Gabby! Please! Please save my mother!"
Jerrell sobbed outside the trauma room, begging Gabriella to save the very woman who had ruined her life. A Legacy of Lies, A Love Lost
Modern My family called me a cold, controlling workaholic. My husband, my sister, even the brother I raised-they all lived in the architectural empire I built, yet they resented me for it.
Then, the doctor gave me a few months to live. But before I could even process my own death sentence, my husband was already asking me to give up my only chance at survival-a spot in a life-saving trial-for my "sick" sister, Cayla.
They took everything. My company, my fortune, my home. At a lavish party celebrating my "generosity," my own son looked me in the eye and told me he hated me.
They praised my selflessness as they stripped me of my life's work. But I knew Cayla wasn't sick. I knew they were just waiting for me to die.
So I smiled and gave them the perfect woman they always wanted. But my real gift wasn't my fortune or my life. It was the truth I left behind, a final act designed to trap them in a prison of guilt they could never escape. The Alpha's Regret: Chasing His Runaway Mate
Werewolf "Put it on," my stepbrother Brendan commanded, his eyes cold.
He was forcing me to wear the silver bracelet his fiancée, Chloie, had bought to mock me.
"It will burn me," I pleaded, clutching my wrist.
"Stop acting like a fragile human," he snapped, his Alpha tone vibrating through the room. "Do not be ungrateful to your future Luna. Build a tolerance."
Under the weight of his command, my trembling hands clasped the metal.
The smell of singed hair and cooking skin filled the air immediately as the silver seared a ring into my flesh.
Brendan watched my agony without a flicker of remorse, then turned to leave with Chloie, leaving me sobbing on the floor.
He was my fated Mate, the boy who once took a dagger for me, but now he called me a "defect" because I hadn't shifted.
He destroyed my childhood treasures in a trash compactor, paraded his lover in front of me, and told the pack I was a diluted bloodline who would break under pressure.
He thought I was trapped, a weak Omega with nowhere to go.
He thought I would stay and watch him marry another woman in three days.
But he didn't know I had a secret burner phone hidden under the floorboards.
Or that my biological father, the Alpha King of the rival Sunfire Pack, was sending a private jet for me.
On the night of the Blood Moon, right before he was crowned King, I didn't just run away.
I mentally grabbed the silver cord connecting our souls and snapped it.
When the crushing pain of the severed bond hit him in the middle of his speech, he finally looked for me.
But I was already gone, ready to awaken the legendary White Wolf he never deserved. The Heiress's Vengeance: A Betrayed Heart
Modern My boyfriend of eight years, Devin, proposed to another woman. I saw it on social media, my world shattering as I drove.
The shock, the betrayal, and the secret life growing inside me sent a wave of pain through my body. Then, a flash of light, a violent crash. Karly, his new fiancée, had run me off the road.
Bleeding and desperate, I called Devin for help, telling him I was losing our baby.
His voice was cold. "What baby? You're being hysterical."
In the background, I heard Karly laugh. "You were just a placeholder, a charity case. Consider the 'accident' a favor."
Then the line went dead.
But as I faded into darkness, a woman appeared at my bedside. "I'm Arlena Dickerson," she said. "And I'm your mother."
Suddenly, I wasn't an orphan anymore. I was the sole heiress to one of New York's most powerful families, and the woman who stole my life, my love, and my child was about to learn what happens when you cross a Dickerson. From Perfect Wife to Unseen Shadow
Romance The flight back was five hours shorter than planned. I finished the project ahead of schedule, a rare win in the world of architecture. I planned to surprise my husband, David, who for ten years, no matter how late, would wait up for me.
Instead, I found him with his assistant, Emily, who was pregnant with his child. Then I heard him casually telling his friends that I was "too delicate" for children, and he planned to trick me into raising his illegitimate child as our adopted one.
My perfect marriage was a joke. Every gesture of his "love" became poison. On our anniversary, he left me at dinner to rush to Emily's side, while she taunted me with pictures of her matching "Love-ly" bracelet and her growing stomach. The humiliation was a physical thing, hot and suffocating.
He thought my acceptance of his lies was fatigue. He thought his performance had convinced me. He thought he had everything: his wife, his mistress, his child, all neatly arranged.
But he had no idea that in that moment, he had lost it all.
I smiled, and made a decision. I would disappear from his life. But not before he paid for what he had done. The Nanny’s Vengeance, A New Life
Modern The grand hall buzzed, thick with the scent of champagne and success, a celebration for my son Liam' s tech company going public. My heart swelled with fierce pride, eighteen years of sacrifice culminating in this moment.
Then, the main doors swung open, and I saw her: Olivia, my best friend, whom I' d watched die eighteen years ago, right after giving birth. Beside her stood Mark, my ex-fiancé, who' d abandoned me weeks before our wedding.
They walked towards the stage like they owned it, and Liam, my son, beamed. "Please welcome my mother, Olivia Hayes, and her husband, Mark Johnson!"
My mother. The words punched me. I watched, frozen, as Olivia embraced Liam on stage.
"Some of you may know Susan Miller," Olivia announced, pointing directly at me as cameras flashed. "We faked my death and gave her our son to raise, to see if she would sacrifice everything for him. And she did!"
Laughter rippled through the crowd, a grotesque mockery of my life. Mark added, "Now, the test is over. It' s time for our son to come home, to his real family."
My eyes darted to Liam. No warmth, no love, only cool, dismissive pity. "Thank you for everything, Susan. You were a great nanny. But it' s time for me to be with my real parents."
Nanny. Eighteen years of lullabies, scraped knees, and unwavering love reduced to a job title. The betrayal ripped through me, stealing my breath, and I collapsed into darkness.
Then, the sharp, antiseptic smell of a hospital. The rhythmic beep of a machine. I was back. Back on the day Olivia gave birth. The day my life was stolen. You might like
Abandoned Ex-Wife: Now Untouchable
Tao Yaoyao My five-year-old daughter was dying in the ICU, her heartbeat replaced by the continuous, electronic scream of a flatline. I gripped her cold hand, my throat sealed shut by a terror so absolute I couldn't even cry out.
I dialed my husband Grayson's private number, the one reserved only for me and his assistants. He declined the call instantly. A second later, a text buzzed against my palm:
"In a meeting. Do not disturb. Stop calling."
Five miles away, Grayson was at a luxury gala, adjusting his silk tie and laughing with Belle Escobar. He told her I was just being "dramatic" and using our daughter's "fever" as an excuse to avoid the event. He had no idea Effie's heart had already stopped.
When I finally reached our penthouse, soaked from the rain and carrying Effie's small socks in a plastic bag, Grayson didn't even look at me. He snapped at me for ruining the hardwood floors and asked if I'd left Effie with the nanny just to "feel sorry for myself."
Three days later, while I buried our daughter in a small, lonely ceremony, Grayson was at the Hamptons. Belle posted a photo of him golfing with the caption: "A mental health day with the boys." He didn't even attend the funeral, but he returned home demanding I clear out Effie's room to make a study for Belle's son.
The injustice burned through me until there was nothing left. I swallowed a handful of sleeping pills, desperate to join my daughter. But instead of the darkness, I woke up to blinding lights and the scent of Grayson's expensive cologne.
I was standing in a ballroom, wearing a blue silk dress I had already burned. Above me, a banner read: "Happy 5th Birthday Kaiden & Effie."
I was back, exactly one year before the tragedy. This time, I wasn't going to be the grieving wife. I was going to be their worst nightmare. No Longer Mrs. Cooley: The Architect's Return
Xiao Xiaosu I went to the City Clerk’s office for a routine copy of my marriage license to finalize a trust fund audit. I expected a simple piece of paper, but the clerk’s pitying look told me my entire life was a lie.
"The license was never finalized, Ms. Oliver. In the eyes of the state, you are single."
The three-hundred-guest wedding at the Plaza and the Vogue features meant nothing. My husband, Gray Cooley, had intentionally filed the documents with a "procedural defect" so he could discard me without a legal divorce. Moments later, an iCloud invite titled "Our Little Secret" popped up on my screen. It was a photo of my best friend, Brylee, holding a positive pregnancy test at our Hamptons estate.
Gray’s text to her was the final blow:
"Happy anniversary, babe. This baby is the best gift. Once the trust unlocks today, we’re done with the charade."
I soon discovered they were even stealing my career, reassigning my architectural masterpiece to Brylee while preparing my eviction notice. Gray's mother called me a "barren mule" in a leaked recording, mocking the infertility I suffered after saving Gray’s life in a construction accident. I wasn't a wife; I was a three-year placeholder used to secure his inheritance.
How could the man I bled for treat me like a disposable prop? How could my best friend carry his child while pretending to comfort me through my darkest moments? The betrayal burned until it turned into a cold, hard stone of fury.
I didn't cry. Instead, I walked into the penthouse of the Barretts, the Cooleys' most powerful rivals. I signed a marriage contract with Kane Barrett, the man the tabloids called the "Beast of Wall Street."
"I want a wedding," I told his father, my voice steady and lethal. "Bigger than the one I had with Gray."
If they wanted me gone, they would have to watch me become the woman who owns their world. The Placeholder Bride's Secret Billionaire Revenge
Luo Ye For two years, I was the invisible force behind tech billionaire Kieran Douglas, convinced that our "private" romance was his way of protecting us from the tabloid spotlight. I managed his mergers, warmed his bed, and waited for a future that didn't exist.
The illusion shattered at 6:00 AM when a Page Six alert debuted Kieran's "real" romance with socialite Aspen Schneider. Before I could even process the betrayal, Kieran sent me a cold, professional text: "Order flowers for Aspen. Pink peonies. Her favorite."
When I tried to walk away, my own mother called me a disgrace and threatened to lock my inheritance forever unless I married a sixty-year-old businessman to save her failing estate. At a high-society gala that same night, Aspen intentionally crushed my burned hand in front of the cameras, while Kieran stood by and dismissed me as a "mediocre assistant" who had overstayed her welcome.
I stood in the cold New York rain, drenched in champagne and humiliation, realizing that every sacrifice I made for Kieran was a joke. I was a ghost in a penthouse that was never mine, discarded the moment his "soulmate" returned. To the world, I was just a placeholder whose time had run out.
But Kieran forgot one thing: my father's multi-million dollar trust fund unlocks the moment I legally marry. I didn't need love; I needed a signature and a shield. I walked into a discreet law firm and signed a marriage contract with a man I believed was the city's most notorious, scandal-ridden playboy.
I thought I was marrying a degenerate "beard" to buy my freedom and secure my revenge. I didn't realize the man who signed that paper wasn't a playboy at all, but Gaston Collins-the most powerful and dangerous man on Wall Street-and he had no intention of letting our fake marriage stay fake. Secret Triplets: The Billionaire's Second Chance
Roderic Penn I stood at my mother's open grave in the freezing rain, my heels sinking into the mud. The space beside me was empty. My husband, Hilliard Holloway, had promised to cherish me in bad times, but apparently, burying my mother didn't fit into his busy schedule.
While the priest's voice droned on, a news alert lit up my phone. It was a livestream of the Metropolitan Charity Gala. There was Hilliard, looking impeccable in a custom tuxedo, with his ex-girlfriend Charla English draped over his arm. The headline read: "Holloway & English: A Power Couple Reunited?"
When he finally returned to our penthouse at 2 AM, he didn't come alone-he brought Charla with him. He claimed she'd had a "medical emergency" at the gala and couldn't be left alone. I found a Tiffany diamond necklace on our coffee table meant for her birthday, and a smudge of her signature red lipstick on his collar. When I confronted him, he simply told me to stop being "hysterical" and "acting like a child."
He had no idea I was seven months pregnant with his child. He thought so little of my grief that he didn't even bother to craft a convincing lie, laughing with his mistress in our home while I sat in the dark with a shattered heart and a secret life growing inside me.
"He doesn't deserve us," I whispered to the darkness. I didn't scream or beg. I simply left a folder on his desk containing signed divorce papers and a forged medical report for a terminated pregnancy. I disappeared into the night, letting him believe he had successfully killed his own legacy through his neglect.
Five years later, Hilliard walked into "The Vault," the city's most exclusive underground auction, looking for a broker to manage his estate. He didn't recognize me behind my Venetian mask, but he couldn't ignore the neon pink graffiti on his armored Maybach that read "DEADBEAT." He had no clue that the three brilliant triplets currently hacking his security system were the very children he thought had been erased years ago. This time, I wasn't just a wife in the way; I was the one holding all the cards. His Trophy Wife, The Apex Predator
Eydie Pfefferle My husband of three years, Arthur Vanderbilt, came home smelling of his mistress's perfume and threw divorce papers on our marble kitchen island.
He demanded I sign away all rights to our assets for a five-million-dollar "severance," calling me a leech his family picked up from the suburbs to solve a temporary PR crisis.
When I refused and demanded my four percent equity in the Vanderbilt Group, he and his mistress, Serena, launched a vicious smear campaign. They planted false stories on Wall Street forums, accusing me of laundering money for an Eastern European crime syndicate.
They tried to force my hand with a check for five hundred million, which I tore up and threw in his face. To them, I was just a trophy wife they could easily discard.
They had no idea that the "leech" they so despised was the anonymous investor who had secretly bailed out their entire company three years ago, saving them from bankruptcy.
Their final move was to hire an actress to publicly accuse me of fraud in the lobby of the most powerful law firm in Manhattan. They didn't realize I was there to retain the firm's most ruthless lawyer. After security threw them out, I looked my replacement in the eye and made her a promise.
"Prepare for an FBI probe into perjury and corporate defamation." Cheated On Me? I Married a Tycoon
Rum Runner I spent three years building my husband, Axel Farrell, into Silicon Valley's ultimate "family man." As his lead PR strategist, I carefully managed his public image, making sure the world saw him as a perfect, devoted husband while I worked in the shadows of our estate.
The illusion shattered when he came home one night smelling of sandalwood and roses, with three deep fingernail scratches carved into his back. When I tried to check his phone, the passcode we had used for years-our wedding anniversary-had been changed.
The betrayal got worse the next morning when his mother called me a "defective product" and tried to force me into a fertility clinic. Axel didn't defend me; instead, he shoved me against a marble bar at a public gala to protect his mistress in front of the world's elite. By the time I tried to leave, Axel had frozen my bank accounts and filed a forged legal petition to have me declared mentally incompetent.
He planned to have me legally kidnapped and locked in a private psychiatric ward just to stop me from filing for divorce. He even blocked every major law firm in the city from taking my case, leaving me with no money, no identity, and no one to turn to.
I couldn't understand how the man who "saved" me from the mud years ago could be the same monster now trying to legally erase my existence. Was our entire marriage just a grooming process to exploit my genius for his billion-dollar empire?
As the deadline for my forced commitment approached, I stopped crying and opened my laptop. I leaked the video of his affair to every tech journalist in the country, watching his stock price crash in real-time.
"Axel thinks starving me out will make me crawl back to him," I whispered as I walked into the headquarters of his biggest rival.
"But he forgot that the most valuable part of his company is in my head."
I was no longer the abandoned wife; I was the one who was going to take his throne and burn it to the ground. Seven Years A Fool, One Day A Queen
Stella Montgomery Everyone knew Kristine loved Colton. Still, his heart clung to a woman overseas-someone he spent most days with, now pregnant with his baby-and Kristine still asked him to marry her.
On their registration day, however, he never came; his "true love" had flown back.
Seven years of loyalty later, Kristine walked away, blocked him, and left his city.
Colton didn't blink-until he saw her at the courthouse, arm-in-arm with another man, and the proud CEO went pale. He went after her, desperation overtaking him.
"I'm sorry. Please give me another chance."
She snapped, "Could you stop? I'm already married." Untouchable After Goodbye: She Had A Secret Empire
Mira Westfield "Let's get a divorce. She's pregnant and deserves a place in my life."
He once promised to protect Claire forever, yet when his first love returned, he cast her aside. For three years, Claire dimmed her brilliance, living quietly as the obedient wife behind him.
When he handed her divorce papers to give his pregnant mistress a place, Claire no longer hid her talents.
The woman he had overlooked was a legendary healer, racing prodigy, and a genius designer. After the divorce, she reclaimed her glory.
When he pleaded, "Honey, let's remarry," another man pulled her close. "She's my wife now. As for you... Someone, take him out and give him what he deserves!" Marrying Her Was Easy, Losing Her Was Hell
Michael Tretter "Stella once savored Marc's devotion, yet his covert cruelty cut deep. She torched their wedding portrait at his feet while he sent flirty messages to his mistress.
With her chest tight and eyes blazing, Stella delivered a sharp slap.
Then she deleted her identity, signed onto a classified research mission, vanished without a trace, and left him a hidden bombshell.
On launch day she vanished; that same dawn Marc's empire crumbled. All he unearthed was her death certificate, and he shattered.
When they met again, a gala spotlighted Stella beside a tycoon. Marc begged. With a smirk, she said, ""Out of your league, darling." First Lady Out, Your Majesty In
Asher Wolfe For three years, Allison played the perfect First Lady in a marriage that never gave her love back.
Nolan handed her divorce papers, sneering at her background while his mother mocked her as barren and his pregnant mistress claimed her place. So Allison walked away.
On the very day she left him, the royal family reclaimed her as their lost princess.
Crown, fortune, power, three terrifying brothers, and a handpicked royal consort now stood at her side.
Her eldest brother-the world's most feared arms dealer-pushed a black card across the table. "Go on. Spend whatever you like."
Her second brother-the genius doctor-twirled a scalpel between his fingers. "Tell me, sis. How many cuts do the ones who hurt you deserve?"
Her third brother-a global martial arts superstar-stormed into her ex-husband's lair. "Who made my sister cry? Time to face the music."
When her regretful ex begged for another chance, Allison only smiled.
It was too late. She was no longer his wife. She was his worst mistake.