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Shearwater

10 Published Stories

Shearwater's Books and Stories

Hiding The Ruthless Billionaire's Genius Heir

Hiding The Ruthless Billionaire's Genius Heir

Romance
5.0
Five years ago, Colette Orr was drugged and hunted by her own stepsister and fiancé. To survive the night, she hid in a dark hotel suite and accidentally gave herself to a dangerous, wounded stranger. Now a struggling single mother working as a hotel manager, her nightmare returned. Her stepsister Chelsey was hosting her lavish wedding at Colette's hotel. They lured Colette into a trap, violently forced her into a shredded, filthy wedding dress, and dragged her onto the main stage. Under the blinding spotlight, Chelsey publicly humiliated Colette, weeping fake tears while framing her as a deranged stalker and a corporate spy. The elite crowd sneered with disgust, demanding she be arrested, while the groom's mother pointed at Colette's five-year-old son and viciously called him a fatherless bastard. Clutching her little boy, Leo, Colette trembled with a mix of absolute despair and raw rage. She had already given up her inheritance and her past to escape their venom. Why wouldn't they just let her and her son live in peace? Suddenly, the grand ballroom doors crashed open. Julian Heath IV, the ruthless Wall Street billionaire—and the stranger from that dark room five years ago—strode in with an army of guards. Before Colette could run, her genius son launched himself at the terrifying titan's leg. "Daddy!" Leo shouted to the silent room. Julian's cold eyes locked onto Colette, and with a terrifyingly calm voice, he ordered his men to seal every exit.
The Broken Ballerina's Secret Paris Escape

The Broken Ballerina's Secret Paris Escape

Modern
5.0
I traced the floral patterns on the silver candlestick, my fingertips numb from the cold of the penthouse. It was our fifth anniversary, and the Wellington steak I’d spent four hours preparing sat soggy and defeated under the dim chandelier. Fielding finally walked in at 1:00 AM, smelling of scotch and tuberose—a scent I didn't own. When I tried to touch him, he recoiled as if my fingers were acid, then disappeared into the bathroom where I heard him moan his ex-girlfriend's name with a desperate, guttural longing. The betrayal didn't end there. The next day, I found him at a luxury restaurant, watching him slide a massive pink diamond onto Corinna’s finger—the same ring he’d told me was a "business investment." I stood hidden behind a frosted glass partition as his friends laughed, calling me a "lame duck" and a "depressed millstone" around his neck. Fielding didn't defend me; he calmly told them our marriage was just a "debt" he had to pay because I’d saved his life in the crash that ended my ballet career. "She's a millstone, Fielding. How long are you going to play nursemaid?" "I owe her. It's a debt. I pay my debts." When I finally confronted him, he didn't show remorse. Instead, he threatened to use his power to declare me mentally unstable and freeze my grandmother’s trust fund so I’d be left "crippled and penniless" on the street. I realized then that Fielding didn't want a wife; he wanted a martyr to ease his survivor's guilt, as long as I stayed broken and dependent. He thought he’d clipped my wings for good, but he didn't know I’d been secretly studying for the Sorbonne while he was out with his mistress. As I put on my designer gown for the charity gala, I wasn't preparing for a party. I was liquidating my jewelry for untraceable cash and planning the ultimate exit. He thinks I’m his prisoner, but the countdown to my final act has already begun.
The Billionaire's Secret Twins: Her Revenge

The Billionaire's Secret Twins: Her Revenge

Modern
4.2
I was four months pregnant, weighing over two hundred pounds, and my heart was failing from experimental treatments forced on me as a child. My doctor looked at me with clinical detachment and told me I was in a death sentence: if I kept the baby, I would die, and if I tried to remove it, I would die. Desperate for a lifeline, I called my father, Francis Acosta, to tell him I was sick and pregnant. I expected a father's love, but all I got was a cold, sharp blade of a voice. "Then do it quietly," he said. "Don't embarrass Candi. Her debutante ball is coming up." He didn't just reject me; he erased me. My trust fund was frozen, and I was told I was no longer an Acosta. My fiancé, Auston, had already discarded me, calling me a "bloated whale" while he looked for a thinner, wealthier replacement. I left New York on a Greyhound bus, weeping into a bag of chips, a broken woman the world considered a mistake. I couldn't understand how my own father could tell me to die "quietly" just to save face for a party. I didn't know why I had been a lab rat for my family’s pharmaceutical ambitions, or how they could sleep at night while I was left to rot in the gray drizzle of the city. Five years later, the doors of JFK International Airport slid open. I stepped onto the marble floor in red-soled stilettos, my body lean, lethal, and carved from years of blood and sweat. I wasn't the "whale" anymore; I was a ghost coming back to haunt them. With my daughter by my side and a medical reputation that terrified the global elite, I was ready to dismantle the Acosta empire piece by piece. "Tell Francis to wash his neck," I whispered to the skyline. "I'm home."
The Hero's Other Life

The Hero's Other Life

Romance
5.0
My husband, Mike, was a hero: a National Guard Sergeant, beloved teacher, and football coach. I was his proud, supportive wife, a registered nurse at the VA, and I believed our life was built on his service to our country. But on a charity delivery for Gold Star families, I drove to a quiet town expecting to help a grieving sister. Instead, I saw my "hero" husband in a backyard, laughing with a woman and a little boy who called him "Daddy." My world tilted, the air left my lungs as I watched them, a perfect family portrait under the sun. He came home days later, full of lies about the Nevada desert, his smiles not reaching his eyes. When I confronted him about Mill Creek, Brianna, and Cody, his facade cracked, but he spun a tale of noble duty to a fallen comrade' s family. But I knew the truth: Cody's age didn't add up to a "one-time mistake." The silence hung heavy, confirming not just one betrayal, but two – Brianna was pregnant again. The next morning, he shoved insurance forms at me, printed for Cody, demanding I sign them to pay for his illegitimate son' s medical needs with my federal benefits. When I refused, "No" became a rock, and he grabbed my arm, shoved me against the counter, hurting my hip. "You owe me this," he hissed, the hero stripped away, revealing a monster. Then, with vindictive cruelty, he exposed my sister Olivia' s husband, Mike' s best friend, as also having had an affair, tying our pain together. I was attacked, our sacred family bonds shattered by his cold, calculated malice. How could I have been so blind? How dared he weaponize my sister's pain to control me? That was the moment. The fear became cold, righteous anger. This wasn't just about my broken marriage; it was about two sisters betrayed, their lives upended by a manipulator. We would not just leave; we would fight back. With every rule he broke, every lie he told, we would systematically dismantle the hero he pretended to be.