Tu Tu
12 Published Stories
Tu Tu's Books and Stories
The Mute Heiress: Her Cold Silent Revenge
Modern The Pierre Hotel smelled of old money and stale ambition, but all I could taste was the copper of my own rage. I stood in the back of the ballroom, a "mute" shadow in a silk dress, watching my sister Brande play the grieving saint on stage.
She wiped away a fake tear, telling the crowd I was too "unstable" to attend my own engagement party. In reality, I was watching her share a secret, intimate squeeze with my fiancé, Chase Sterling, right under the blinding spotlight.
When I finally hit "execute" and projected the video of them together in a hotel suite for the entire elite crowd to see, the room went cold. But the nightmare was just beginning. Instead of apologizing, my father crushed his scotch glass and told me to fix the mess. He demanded I issue a public statement claiming I had a mental breakdown and "hallucinated" the whole thing.
"If you don't corroborate the Deepfake story, I'll have you committed to a facility with barred windows," he hissed. Brande just smirked from the corner, mocking me for being a "mute waste of space" who didn't even realize my own trust fund had paid for the diamonds around her neck.
I realized then that in this family, silence wasn't a disability—it was a target. They thought because I didn't speak, I didn't have a voice. They thought they could use my silence to bury the truth and save their precious stock prices.
They were wrong. I didn't just leak a video; I had the keys to every secret they ever tried to hide. I walked out of that hotel and straight into the black sedan of Julian Curtis, my father’s most ruthless rival and the only man who knew what really happened the night of the blizzard in Aspen.
I handed him the encrypted files that would trigger a hostile takeover of my family’s empire. As the city blurred past, I looked at the man who held my future in his hands and typed one final message on my phone.
"I'm not here to be saved. I'm here to be the knife." Love Was My Cage, Not Salvation
Modern For five years, I was Grace Miller, the long-lost heiress to an agricultural empire, returned to my doting parents and a perfect husband, Caleb. They were my everything, the family I’d craved my whole life.
But it was all a lie. A wrong turn led me to a secret farm where I found my husband playing with a little boy and Paige—the adopted daughter they told me had died in a car crash.
My parents were in on it, funding their secret life and their “true” grandchild. They hadn’t just hidden a secret family; they were plotting my disposal.
A voice memo on Caleb’s computer revealed their plan: to have me drugged with anxiety medication and declared mentally unstable if I caused trouble for the company.
The love I thought was my salvation was actually my cage. The naive girl who believed in their affection died that day, replaced by a cold, calculated rage.
At a family dinner a few nights later, my mother slid a glass of wine toward me.
"You look so pale, dear," she said. "Drink this. It will help you relax."
I knew it was the first step of their plan. The wine was drugged. I smiled, held their gazes, and drank the entire glass in one long swallow. The game was over. My game was just beginning. His Pain, Her Penance
Romance The wedding planner' s voice on the phone was professional, confirming the groom had been changed to Noah Reed. My fiancée, Chloe, thought it was a surprise party.
A surprise it was. I had found a marriage certificate in her drawer: Chloe Davis and Noah Reed, married for three months. Tucked behind it was an ultrasound report: twins. Not mine.
For years, Chloe was my everything, my light. She saved me from darkness, taught me to trust, to love. But now, she and her family, whom I trusted implicitly, had orchestrated a grand deception, making a mockery of my love and devotion. I was the fool in a play where everyone else knew the script. They even knew about the babies, pretending they were mine.
I felt nothing. A vast, empty space had opened up inside me where my heart used to be. The pain was so deep it had turned into a strange, detached calm. They couldn't hurt me anymore. I was already dead inside.
I walked away from the past, leaving everything behind, never looking back. But not before orchestrating a wedding day reveal that would expose their betrayal and shatter Chloe's carefully constructed world. Second Choice, Shattered Heart
LGBT+ The fire alarm shrieked, thick smoke burning my eyes. My heart hammered as I stumbled through the haze, calling for Liam. I finally saw him, but he wasn' t alone. He was carrying Chloe Jenkins, his childhood friend, rushing out the door without a single glance back at me, leaving me in our burning apartment.
A neighbor pulled me out, and on the street, I watched Liam fuss over Chloe, who had a sprained ankle. When he finally noticed me, he walked over, a mask of concern on his face.
"Ava, are you okay? I was so worried."
His best friend, Ben, jogged over, clapping Liam on the shoulder. "Good thing you got Chloe out. You' re strong, Ava. Chloe needed him." They talked about me as if I wasn't there, dismissing my fear, my life.
"I'm not okay," I said, my voice dangerously quiet.
Liam' s face tensed. "What do you mean? You're safe. I made sure Chloe was safe because she was injured. It was a logical decision."
"A logical decision?" I repeated, disbelief washing over me. "I was in there, Liam. In our home. You ran right past me."
"Ava, don't be dramatic," Ben cut in. "He did the responsible thing."
I discovered this wasn't an isolated incident. My own cherished items, once dismissed as "overpriced" by Liam, found their way into Chloe' s hands-a bittersweet realization that I was always his second choice, a convenient placeholder. All those years, I had convinced myself his emotional distance was just his personality. I was wrong.
My heart shattered as I pieced together the truth. I was never his first choice; I was just the girl he settled for after Chloe rejected him. I was a consolation prize.
"We are over, Liam," I declared, my voice raw with years of suppressed pain, throwing a glass of water in his face. "It was never about the fire. The fire was just the moment I finally opened my eyes. It's about the years of lies. It's about you letting me believe I was loved when I was just... convenient." I walked away, leaving my old life in a puddle on the floor, determined to build a new one, alone. The Stardust Secret
Modern My alarm should have been my wake-up call, but it was Matthew' s frantic Discord messages, desperate for me to play a game of Valorant.
He promised good money for a few hours of coaching – a lifeline I desperately needed with my tuition due and my mom' s medical bills piling up.
I logged in, ready to carry strangers, but one player stood out: "Nyx," a mysterious, rich gamer who offered me a retainer, making me her exclusive coach.
My life flipped overnight as my channel, "Stardust_vlr," exploded online thanks to anonymous, lavish donations from "0x."
Then, my mom set me up on a blind coffee date with a "friend" from UCLA.
It was Stella, the helpful girl who' d given me directions on my first day.
We hit it off, becoming real-life friends, completely unaware of our deep connection in the virtual world.
The biggest Twitch charity tournament arrived, and I finally enabled my face-cam, revealing Ethan Scott, the broke freshman.
Across campus, Stella watched, realizing the face belonged to the quiet guy she knew, and that Stardust was Ethan.
Just as the tournament countdown began, I heard Nyx' s voice in my headset, and the pieces clicked into place.
Nyx was Stella.
The shock was mutual, paralyzing us both as the biggest game of our lives was about to begin.
How could my coach, my anonymous benefactor, and the girl my parents set me up with all be the same person? Divorce: My Unwritten Happy Ending
Modern My world was perfect.
My wife, Chloe Davis, the starlet I' d built from the ground up, was adored by millions, and our power-couple image was the envy of Hollywood.
Then, a quiet ping on my phone shattered everything: a tabloid photo of Chloe, smiling intimately with an unknown man, a child between them holding both their hands.
"Chloe Davis' s Secret Family?" the headline screamed.
My mother-in-law' s subsequent call twisted the knife, confirming the child was Chloe' s and coldly stating, "You know you can' t have children. We thought it was for the best."
The revelation of her long-held secret child, combined with my supposed infertility-a shared tragedy I thought-felt like a grotesque betrayal.
When Chloe calmly proposed we publicly claim the child as adopted to "benefit our brand," I realized the woman I loved was a stranger, viewing our entire marriage as a cold business merger.
The love I had for her crumbled to dust.
"No," I declared, the word sharp and final.
"We' re getting a divorce."
She scoffed, dismissing my decision as an inconvenience, not a heartbreak, and suggested I was being "unreasonable."
Suddenly, I was the villain in a carefully constructed narrative, the failed husband who couldn' t give his wife what she wanted.
My supposed perfect life, built on love and trust, was a lie.
Now, the real story begins. She Tried To Steal My Life. I Took Her Future.
Modern The last thing I remembered was the stench of stale beer and damp asphalt, then the crunch of my own bones.
My best friend Becca, my sorority little sister, stood by, pointing, her face a mask of cold satisfaction.
She had used my ID, my photos, my name for her own sinister schemes, and it led to my brutal death in that alley by loan sharks.
Killed simply because I was too trusting, too kind, too naive to see her for what she truly was.
But then, I woke up.
The scent of lavender laundry detergent filled the air, my body was whole, no pain, no blood.
And then I heard it – the soft click of a phone camera.
Becca, standing in my doorway, phone aimed at me, just like the day it all began.
This time, there would be no pity, no forgiveness.
This time, I was ready. From Torment to Triumph
Sci-fi For seven years, my husband Jake, a firefighter captain, made our home a tomb.
He blamed me for his high school sweetheart Chloe's death in a wildfire, a fire where he "saved" me only because I was pregnant with his son.
His constant accusations and cold silence were a living hell.
Then, he announced he was using the "Second Chance Program"-an experimental time travel initiative-to go back to that fire.
"I have to save her," he said, and with those words, he was erasing our entire life.
His final jab, "Why would I have saved you if I didn't worry Chloe would be judged?" echoed the universal blame I already carried.
In the rewritten timeline, the nightmare only deepened.
He chose Chloe, ran me over with his truck, causing a miscarriage, and then left me bleeding in the inferno.
He prioritized Chloe's dog's 'trauma' over my injuries, dismissed my pain as 'faking it,' and starved me, literally taking bread from my tray to feed Chloe's endless demands.
How could the man who swore to protect me become this cruel stranger, constantly choosing a manipulating ghost over his wife and unborn child?
And then he asked, "How do I even know it's mine?"-a gut-wrenching accusation for a baby already gone.
That was the breaking point.
I left, clutching the divorce papers he unknowingly signed, determined to use the very same time travel program.
Not to fix him, not to save us, but to save myself from the blame, and find a life of my own.
My second chance was finally for me. When The Contract Ends
Modern For five years, I was Liam Walker, a hired husband and father in a grand mansion, my very existence hanging on Victoria Sterling' s whims and my sick mother' s need for life-saving treatment.
My days were a relentless cycle of enduring Chloe, Victoria's ten-year-old daughter, who saw me as an intruder and a perpetual punching bag for her grief, often turning physical.
Then came the car crash, and as the world exploded around us, I watched Victoria tend to her late husband's handsome lookalike, Julian, leaving me, her 'husband,' slumped and bleeding in the wreckage.
At the hospital, I heard Victoria coldly prioritize Julian' s life, and Chloe whisper, 'Let him die, Mommy. Then Julian can be my new daddy for real.'
My agony deepened when Victoria, in a chilling display of power, ordered my other hand broken, the one I played guitar with, all while Julian reveled in her affections and poisoned Chloe' s mind with lies about me.
What was I really to them? A ghost, a prop, a punching bag, meticulously broken down and discarded, with no worth beyond my fleeting utility.
But as my body healed, a quiet fury hardened my resolve. My contract was almost up, and this time, no amount of money or manipulation would stop me.
I would escape, take my mother, and build a life free from their toxic grasp, a life so genuinely happy, their future remorse would be utterly meaningless. When Charm Turns Toxic
Modern I was Ava Sharma, a scholarship student focused on acing my pre-med degree and securing a coveted Johns Hopkins fellowship.
My world, filled with textbooks and ambitious dreams, also included Liam Walker, the charming campus king.
He pursued me relentlessly, filling my life with sweet gestures that made me finally let my guard down.
But one afternoon, after a moment of intimacy in his dorm room, Liam casually hinted at an accidental pregnancy, advising me to slow down my career.
Then, I overheard him and his cronies laughing: the entire relationship was a meticulously crafted lie, a scheme to distract me and sabotage my fellowship for his ex, Jessica Hayes.
The betrayal felt like a gut punch, turning every cherished memory into a violation.
He even orchestrated highly realistic AI deepfakes of me, flooding the campus gossip forums, threatening my hard-earned reputation.
My future, my parents' immigrant dream, was crumbling because of cruel manipulation.
How could anyone be so monstrously calculating, fabricating such a horrifying lie to destroy me?
But as Liam planned one final public humiliation, a crucial anonymous audio message revealed the chilling depths of his and Jessica' s deceit.
That night, I made a choice: I deleted the message, walked away from the public spectacle, hailed a cab, and headed to the airport for a new life. From Fake Divorce to Real Fortune
Modern It started with a casual scroll through a Facebook parenting group.
My husband, Jack, came home that evening, his face alight with an excitement I hadn't seen in years.
He spoke of a monumental career opportunity with BMW in Germany, a chance to elevate our family's future.
Then came the chilling caveat: for obscure corporate reasons, he explained, participants needed to be officially single, so we’d need a “symbolic divorce.”
My heart plunged, because only days before, I’d read an anonymous post in that very same group detailing how a man planned to trick his wife into a fake divorce to run off with his new girlfriend; the parallels were undeniable.
He swore it was just paperwork and a formality, that nothing would change between us.
His palpable relief when I, feigning compliance, agreed to this monstrous charade was truly sickening.
Less than a week later, with the divorce decree in hand, he flew overseas with his much younger, blonder colleague, vanishing without a trace.
I soon discovered our joint bank account, earmarked for our dream house, had been emptied of nearly $50,000.
“Trust him?” the word felt like ash in my mouth.
My mind reeled with the audacity of his betrayal, and how he could orchestrate such a cruel plot to leave his family destitute for a fleeting fantasy.
The urge to scream, to ruin him, was overwhelming, but a colder, more calculated anger began to take hold.
A “symbolic” divorce? There’s no such thing; a divorce is a divorce.
But Jack, blinded by his perceived freedom, had made a fatal miscalculation.
He had completely underestimated the wife he thought he’d outsmarted.
He didn't know about my meticulously squirreled-away hundred thousand dollars, my ultimate, secret safety net.
As his car disappeared down the street, a singular, potent thought solidified in my mind: Go enjoy your "freedom," Jack, because getting back in won’t be so easy, and you’ve just signed away more than you know. You might like
The Ghost Wife's Billion Dollar Tech Comeback
Huo Wuer Today is October 14th, my birthday. I returned to New York after months away, dragging my suitcase through the biting wind, but the VIP pickup zone where my husband’s Maybach usually idled was empty.
When I finally let myself into our Upper East Side penthouse, I didn’t find a cake or a "welcome home" banner. Instead, I found my husband, Caden, kneeling on the floor, helping our five-year-old daughter wrap a massive gift for my half-sister, Adalynn.
Caden didn’t even look up when I walked in; he was too busy laughing with the girl who had already stolen my father’s legacy and was now moving in on my family. "Auntie Addie is a million times better than Mommy," my daughter Elara chirped, clutching a plush toy Caden had once forbidden me from buying for her. "Mommy is mean," she whispered loudly, while Caden just smirked, calling me a "drill sergeant" before whisking her off to Adalynn’s party without a second glance.
Later that night, I saw a video Adalynn posted online where my husband and child laughed while mocking my "sensitive" nature, treating me like an inconvenient ghost in my own home. I had spent five years researching nutrition for Elara’s health and managing every detail of Caden’s empire, only to be discarded the moment I wasn't in the room.
How could the man who set his safe combination to my birthday completely forget I even existed? The realization didn't break me; it turned me into ice.
I didn't scream or beg for an explanation. I simply walked into the study, pulled out the divorce papers I’d drafted months ago, and took a black marker to the terms. I crossed out the alimony, the mansion, and even the custody clause—if they wanted a life without me, I would give them exactly what they asked for.
I left my four-carat diamond ring on the console table and walked out into the rain with nothing but a heavily encrypted hard drive. The submissive Mrs. Holloway was gone, and "Ghost," the most lethal architect in the tech world, was finally back online to take back everything they thought I’d forgotten. The Humble Ex-wife Is Now A Brilliant Tycoon
Flory Corkery For three quiet, patient years, Christina kept house, only to be coldly discarded by the man she once trusted.
Instead, he paraded a new lover, making her the punchline of every town joke.
Liberated, she honed her long-ignored gifts, astonishing the town with triumph after gleaming triumph.
Upon discovering she'd been a treasure all along, her ex-husband's regret drove him to pursue her. "Honey, let's get back together!"
With a cold smirk, Christina spat, "Fuck off."
A silken-suited mogul slipped an arm around her waist. "She's married to me now. Guards, get him the hell out of here!" 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." The Queen Returns: Pampered By Her Three Powerhouse Brothers
Kleon Samorodnitsky After five years of playing the perfect daughter, Rylie was exposed as a stand-in. Her fiancé bolted, friends scattered, and her adoptive brothers shoved her out, telling her to grovel back to her real family. Done with humiliation, she swore to claw back what was hers. Shock followed: her birth family ruled the town's wealth. Overnight, she became their precious girl. The boardroom brother canceled meetings, the genius brother ditched his lab, the musician brother postponed a tour. As those who spurned her begged forgiveness, Admiral Brad Morgan calmly declared, "She's already taken." Beneath His Ugly Wife's Mask: Her Revenge Was Her Brilliance
Lukas Difabio Elliana, the unfavored "ugly duckling" of her family, was humiliated by her stepsister, Paige, who everyone admired. Paige, engaged to the CEO Cole, was the perfect woman-until Cole married Elliana on the day of the wedding. Shocked, everyone wondered why he chose the "ugly" woman.
As they waited for her to be cast aside, Elliana stunned everyone by revealing her true identity: a miracle healer, financial mogul, appraisal prodigy, and AI genius.
When her mistreatment became known, Cole revealed Elliana's stunning, makeup-free photo, sending shockwaves through the media. "My wife doesn't need anyone's approval." Destiny's Choice: Married The Man They Called Unlovable
Lila Rivers Sophie stepped in for her sister and married a man known for his disfigured looks and reckless past.
On their wedding day, his family turned their backs on him, and the town laughed behind their hands, certain the marriage would collapse.
But Sophie's career soared, and their love only deepened.
Later, during a high-profile event, the CEO of some conglomerate took off his mask, revealing Sophie's husband to be a global sensation.
***
Adrian had no interest in his arranged wife and had disguised himself in hopes she would bail.
But when Sophie tried to walk away, Adrian broke down and whispered, "Please, Sophie, don't go. One kiss, and I'll give you the world." She Was The Joke, Now She's The Queen
Lila Wren Two years of marriage left Brinley questioning everything, her supposed happiness revealed as nothing but sham.
Abandoning her past for Colin, she discovered only betrayal and a counterfeit wedding.
Accepting his heart would stay frozen, she called her estranged father, agreeing to the match he proposed.
Laughter followed her, with whispers of Colin's power to toss her aside. Yet, she reinvented herself-legendary racer, casino mastermind, and acclaimed designer.
When Colin tried to reclaim her, another man pulled Brinley close. "She's already carrying my child. You can't move on?" 
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