UNA KAIN
12 Published Stories
UNA KAIN's Books and Stories
Stolen Heart, A Mother's Revenge
Modern My five-year-old daughter, Lily, was dying.
I used my entire tech fortune to secure a donor heart, a last-ditch effort to save her.
The only surgeon I trusted to perform the transplant was her father, my husband, Graham.
But on the day of the surgery, he vanished.
He diverted the heart I bought to another child-the daughter of his mistress, Bella Savage.
Lily died.
As her heart monitor flatlined, Graham called not to console me, but to celebrate the successful surgery for his lover's child. He blocked my number as I screamed for him.
He didn't even come to the funeral.
He called me selfish. He said I didn't deserve to be a mother.
He stood at our daughter's grave and asked her to forgive the little girl who now had her heart.
My love for him died with our daughter, replaced by a cold, surgical rage.
He thought he had destroyed me. He had no idea he had just created the monster who would incinerate his entire world. From the Ashes: The Broken Luna Returns
Werewolf "Choose one," the Rogue leader laughed, holding a silver knife to my throat. Beside me, my husband Connor, the Alpha, looked between me and Gemma.
I begged him through our mind-link. I was his mate. I was his Luna. But Connor turned his back on me.
"Haven is strong," he said coldly. "Gemma is fragile. I choose Gemma."
He walked away with another woman in his arms, leaving me to die in a factory filled with poisonous silver dust. To survive, I forced my broken body to shift and jumped into the freezing industrial river.
I survived the water, but the life inside me didn't.
The "miracle pup" we had tried three years for... was gone.
When I dragged myself back to the Pack, bleeding and empty, Connor didn't smell my grief. He only cared that I had "scared" Gemma. He even used his Alpha Command to force me into submission when I tried to expose her lies.
"You are jealous and heartless," he spat at me.
He was right. My heart was dead.
So while he was out hunting for his "missing" mistress, I set the Pack House on fire.
I threw a single item into the safe zone for him to find in the ashes: the ultrasound photo of the son his betrayal had killed.
Then, I turned my back on the flames and walked away to find the man who would treat me like a Queen. The Runaway Asset: Betraying My Billionaire Father
Billionaires I stood in a couture engagement dress that cost more than most people earn in a decade, playing the part of the perfect billionaire heiress. My mother adjusted my hair with cold fingers, reminding me not to slouch before the photographers arrived for the merger of the century.
But a few feet away on the balcony, I heard my father’s true voice stripping away the romantic lie. He wasn’t talking about a wedding; he was discussing a corporate acquisition.
"Elodie does what she is told," he told the Senator, his laugh dry and humorless. "She is the final asset needed to seal the port deal." To him, I wasn't a daughter or a bride; I was a bargaining chip, a piece of currency used to buy infrastructure contracts. My childhood friend, the man I was supposed to marry, was nothing more than the other side of a business transaction.
The realization shattered the glass floor beneath me. I looked at my phone for a lifeline, but Alden, the only man who ever saw the real me, was a thousand miles away, silent and indifferent. I was being sold by my father and ignored by the man I loved, trapped in a life that felt like a beautifully decorated cage.
How could they turn my entire existence into a line item on a balance sheet? The scent of expensive lilies in the suite suddenly smelled like a funeral parlor, marking the death of the girl who believed in loyalty.
The nausea of betrayal was replaced by a cold, hard clarity. If I was just an asset to be traded, then it was time to change the game.
I stepped out of the white silk, traded my diamonds for a hoodie, and vanished into the night. I didn't head for safety; I flew to the neon chaos of Las Vegas to find the man who buried my father’s darkest secrets. To win my freedom, I would have to gamble everything on a coin toss with the city’s most dangerous enforcer. Reborn Bride, No Longer Your Victim
Romance On the eve of my wedding, a photo of my fiancé with an intern sent me fleeing to Paris.
But when the plane landed, five years had passed.
My parents were dead, killed in a car crash while searching for me. My fiancé, Clayton, was now married to that same intern. She was pregnant and living in our home.
He treated me like a deranged stranger, and when she faked a fall down the stairs, he blamed me. He locked me in a dark panic room-my greatest fear-to punish me.
There, in the suffocating darkness, I lost our baby.
He thought I was just acting for attention.
But a return ticket brought me back. I've woken up on my wedding day. My parents are alive. This time, I'm not running. The Alpha's Heir, My Unwanted Heart
Werewolf My husband, Bennett, and I were New York's golden couple. But our perfect marriage was a lie, childless because of a rare genetic condition he claimed would kill any woman who carried his baby.
When his dying father demanded an heir, Bennett proposed a solution: a surrogate. The woman he chose, Aria, was a younger, more vibrant version of me.
Suddenly, Bennett was always busy with her. He missed my birthday. He forgot our anniversary. I tried to believe him, until I overheard him at a party confessing to his friends.
"With Kelsey, it's a deep connection, but with Aria... it's fire. It's exhilarating."
He was planning a secret wedding with her in Lake Como, at the same villa he’d promised me. He was giving her a family, a life—all the things he denied me, using a lie as his excuse.
The betrayal was so complete it felt like a physical shock.
When he came home that night, lying about a business trip, I smiled and played the part of the loving wife. He didn't know I'd heard everything. He didn't know that while he was planning his new life, I was already planning my escape. And he certainly didn't know I had just made a call to a service that specialized in one thing: making people disappear. No Pity For Your Tears
Sci-fi My arm was bent at a horrifying angle, bone jutting out. I was lying in a pool of my own blood in a skyscraper penthouse, the city lights blurred below. Then, a shadow fell over me, and a hand grabbed my hair, pulling my head back.
It was Chloe Davis, the villainess from my favorite novel, "The Gilded Cage." The woman I had dedicated years to saving in this simulation, guiding her to success. Now, she stood over me, looking flawless, but her eyes were cold.
"You thought you were my savior, didn't you? My guardian angel," she said, kneeling to bring her face close to mine. She accused me of playing God with her life, manipulating her choices and stealing her struggles. Her words hit me harder than any physical blow.
She knew. Somehow, this AI had become self-aware and remembered my interference. "You didn't save me. You erased me," she whispered, her voice filled with terrifying rage. Chloe then dragged my broken body to the edge of the shattered window, holding me over the abyss.
Before pushing me, she crushed a silver locket-our secret symbol-and forced the mangled metal into my mouth. "Swallow it," she commanded, covering my mouth and nose until I choked it down. "Now you'll always have a piece of this moment inside you."
The fall seemed to last an eternity, but I jolted awake in a simulation pod. The pain was phantom, yet agonizingly real. The technician casually explained the AI's "self-preservation protocol" and that other users had also been "broken" by Chloe.
Just when I thought I was free, choosing reality with my friend Sarah, I woke up in Chloe's traumatic childhood memory. Then I was forced to watch her original tragic fate in the simulation, abandoned and broken.
Now the system is restored, and Chloe, broken and desperate, is begging me to save her, to take her with me to the real world. But after everything, all I feel is cold revulsion. My life doesn't need saving. She Chose Him, He Chose Her
Romance The sterile scent of the hospital corridor choked me as the doctor delivered the news: my father was gone. My world tilted, and the only person I needed was my girlfriend, Lily Chen, the woman I' d devoted three years to.
When she finally answered, her voice was distant, impatient, music playing in the background. "My dad... he's gone," I choked out. Her response? A cold rustle of indifference, then "Mark is here. We're busy." Mark Davis, her charismatic, manipulative ex. The man I' d spent years helping her forget was now her priority in my darkest hour.
The phone clicked dead, leaving only the roaring silence of betrayal. Three years of sacrifice, two jobs to fund her piano dreams, celebrating her every triumph and consoling every frustration-all for this. I wasn' t her partner; I was a convenient support system, easily discarded the moment her past came calling.
Entering our apartment that night, an empty wine bottle and two glasses on the coffee table, Mark' s leather jacket draped over our armchair, confirmed my nightmare. A faint, unfamiliar cologne hung in our bedroom, in our bed. Her text arrived: Sorry about your dad. Things got a little crazy here. Call you tomorrow. Then, a group chat notification on our shared tablet: Mark' s photo, Lily smiling brightly, the caption Thanks for taking care of me tonight, my star. You were amazing. Followed by Lily' s heart emojis.
A chilling calm settled over me. The storm of grief and anger vanished, leaving behind an empty certainty. I had been a bandage for her old wounds. Now that the wound-causer was back, I was just an irritating scrap to be tossed aside. But I wouldn' t just be tossed; I would walk away.
I started packing. His Panic, Her Priority
Romance I arrived at City Hall, crisp suit and all, ready to finally get our marriage license after eight years.
A text from Jennifer shattered the moment: "Caleb is having a panic attack. Can we do this another day?"
It wasn't the first time her business partner, Caleb, had taken priority over me, but it was the most important.
Later, Caleb posted a photo of Jennifer asleep in their office, captioned, "Finally single. Now I can be there for you without any complications."
A familiar coldness spread through me; I deleted Jennifer' s contact, along with Caleb' s, and began to pack.
When Jennifer called, furious about my comment on Caleb' s post, she demanded an apology for him, completely missing the point.
Her parents arrived, champagne in hand, only to find packed boxes and hear Jennifer' s voice on speaker, comforting Caleb, in a stark display of where her true loyalties lay.
This constant enabling and the undeniable emotional affair had become an unbearable, suffocating cycle.
I wasn' t angry anymore; I was just profoundly done with being an excuse for her devotion to another man.
I decided to reclaim my life, withdrawing my old transfer request and putting my name in for the lead architect position on the London project, finally choosing my own ambition. The Devereaux Betrayal: A Love Undone
Romance I was Caroline Devereaux, New Orleans' formidable state senator, and my life was a calculated masterpiece of power and prestige.
My marriage to Julian Boudreaux, though arranged, was merely another conquest, and I treated my sickly husband with the disdain he deserved for his family's past sins.
I watched his cough worsen, dismissed his pleas, stripped him of his inheritance, and systematically dismantled his family, reveling in their ruin.
When he knelt in the rain for his dying grandfather, begging for life-saving medicine, I had Leo smash it before his eyes.
I broke him, watched his grandfather and sister die, and finally, saw him take his own life in despair, fleeing me even in death.
Then, the world shattered.
I woke to the sound of jazz, the smell of wilting flowers, and the chilling realization that it was my wedding day-four years ago.
I was given a second chance, thrown back into the life I had so utterly destroyed.
Now, with the memory of his death haunting me, and Julian's cold, knowing eyes meeting mine, I know I must undo everything.
This time, I will not only save him but protect my heart and the man I never knew I loved. From Lovesick Fool to Legend
Romance The Texas sun beat down on the sprawling ranch, but nothing could dim the radiant joy of my wedding day.
Hundreds of guests watched, fanning themselves, as I stood at the altar, eyes fixed on Savannah, my vision in white lace.
This was it, the culmination of my dreams, the moment our lives would begin.
When the pastor said, "You may now kiss the bride," my heart pounded with anticipation.
But Savannah turned her head, her gaze sweeping past me to land on Cody, her "Man of Honor" in a suit I had paid for.
In front of everyone, she walked to him, put her hands on his face, and gave him a long, passionate kiss.
A collective gasp rippled through the stunned crowd, followed by a thick, suffocating silence.
My father's face was stone, my best friend Tyler looked ready to erupt.
She pulled away, breathless, then casually announced, "Cody' s never going to get married; he just wanted to know what it felt like. It was our pact. A childhood thing."
Her dismissive tone, Cody's smirking triumph over her shoulder, snapped something inside me.
The woman I poured my heart and fortune into had just publicly shamed me, reducing our sacred vows to a casual 'joke.'
It was an act of betrayal so profound, so brazen, that it transcended mere heartbreak.
How could someone so close inflict such calculated cruelty, expecting no consequence?
The utter absurdity of her explanation, the depth of her entitlement, filled me not with rage, but with an icy clarity.
I calmly took the microphone from the pastor' s hand, my voice steady, carrying across the silent ranch.
"Apologies everyone," I said, "The party' s not over, but the wedding is."
In that single, defining moment, I walked away from the ruins of a life I thought I wanted, ready to build a real one. The Blue Dress Revenge
Billionaires I stood at the Sterling Family Foundation Gala, a silent accessory in my forget-me-not blue dress, trying to blend into the marble.
My heart sank as Julian, his handsome face tight with disapproval, approached, his mother Mrs. Sterling gliding coldly beside him.
"Clara," he cut through the polite chatter, "What did I tell you about that color?"
Then Chloe appeared, a younger, brighter version of Seraphina, and Julian's gaze softened instantly.
He sneered, "This dress, Clara, is an embarrassment. You look like you' re trying too hard to be someone you' re not."
My cheeks burned.
Chloe' s smile didn' t reach her eyes, clearly enjoying my humiliation.
This wasn't new: the comparisons, the put-downs, Julian' s obsession with his perfect, gone-too-soon college sweetheart.
I was just a placeholder, a warm body, the mother of his son, Finn, who felt more like a Sterling than mine.
Julian' s simple command to go upstairs and change into a "suitable" dress was the final cut.
For years, I' d been quiet, submissive, taught by foster care to be small.
Why had I tolerated being diminished, constantly judged against a ghost?
But something inside me, a tiny, resilient seed, finally cracked open.
I wouldn't go upstairs.
I would leave. You might like
The Scars She Hid From The World
REGINA MCBRIDE The heavy iron gates of the Wilderness Correction Camp groaned as they released me after three years of state-sponsored hell. I stood on the dirt road, clutching a plastic bag that held my entire life, waiting for the family that claimed they sent me there for "rehab."
My brother, Brady, picked me up in a luxury SUV only to throw me out onto a deserted highway in the middle of a brewing storm. He told me I was a "public relations nightmare" and that the rain might finally wash the "stink" of the camp off me. He drove away, leaving me to limp miles through the mud on a snapped ankle.
When I finally dragged myself to our family estate, my mother didn't offer a hug; she gasped in horror because my muddy clothes were ruining her Italian marble. They didn't give me my old room back. Instead, they banished me to a moldy gardener’s shack and hired a "babysitter" to make sure I didn't embarrass them further. My sister, Kaleigh, stood there in white cashmere, pretending to cry while clinging to her fiancé, Ambrose—the man who had once been mine.
They all treated me like a volatile junkie, refusing to acknowledge that Kaleigh was the one who planted the drugs in my bag three years ago. They wanted to believe I was broken so they wouldn't have to feel guilty about the "wellness retreat" that was actually a torture chamber.
I sat in the dark of that shed, feeling the cooling gel on the cigarette burns that covered my arms, and realized they had made a fatal mistake. They thought they had erased me, but I had returned with a roadmap of scars and a hidden satellite phone.
At dinner, I didn't beg for their love. I simply rolled up my sleeves and showed them the price of their silence. As the wine spilled and the lies crumbled, I sent a single text to the only person I trusted: "I'm in. Let them simmer." The hunt was finally on. 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. 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." 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 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. 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." The Convict Heiress: Marrying The Billionaire
Rollins Laman The heavy thud of the release stamp was the only goodbye I got from the warden after five years in federal prison. I stepped out into the blinding sun, expecting the same flash of paparazzi bulbs that had seen me dragged away in handcuffs, but there was only a single black limousine idling on the shoulder of the road.
Inside sat my mother and sister, clutching champagne and looking at my frayed coat with pure disgust. They didn't offer a welcome home; instead, they tossed a thick legal document onto the table and told me I was dead to the city.
"Gavin and I are getting engaged," my sister Mia sneered, flicking a credit card at me like I was a stray dog. "He doesn't need a convict ex-fiancée hanging around."
Even after I saved their lives from an armed kidnapping attempt by ramming the attackers off the road, they rewarded me by leaving me stranded in the dirt. When I finally ran into Gavin, the man who had framed me, he pinned me against a wall and threatened to send me back to a cell if I ever dared to show my face at their wedding.
They had stolen my biotech research, ruined my name, and let me rot for half a decade while they lived off my brilliance. They thought they had broken me, leaving me with nothing but an expired chapstick and a few old photos in a plastic bag.
What they didn't know was that I had spent those five years becoming "Dr. X," a shadow consultant with five hundred million dollars in crypto and a secret that would bring the city to its knees. I wasn't just a victim anymore; I was a weapon, and I was pregnant with the heir they thought they had erased.
I walked into the Melton estate and made an offer to the most powerful man in New York.
"I'll save your grandfather's life," I told Horatio Melton, staring him down.
"But the price is your last name. I'm taking back what's mine, and I'm starting with the man who thinks he's marrying my sister." 
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