Wo Ruo
11 Published Stories
Wo Ruo's Books and Stories
His Sweet Betrayal, Her Cold Vengeance
Romance I thought my boyfriend, Dillon, was my knight in shining armor, the one person who saw me in a family that treated me like an intruder. I was wrong.
He and his best friend, Ethan, drugged me, took explicit photos, and leaked them to the entire university to shatter my reputation and force me out of their lives.
My own mother, more concerned with her social standing, called me a slut and abandoned me. Then, Ethan sent his thugs to corner me in an alley. They humiliated me, assaulted me, and in the struggle, I was stabbed and left for dead.
Lying in a hospital bed, I overheard the truth. Dillon's feigned apology was a lie; he was leaving me for his "true love," Erika. Ethan's only regret was that I hadn't died. "You're alone," he sneered. "No one will protect you anymore."
He was right. I was alone. But when I returned to the house to pack my things, I discovered the last precious thing I owned-my grandmother's jade bangle-had been stolen.
That was the moment something inside me finally broke. Or maybe, it was the moment I was finally pieced back together. They wanted me gone? Fine. But I wouldn't just disappear. I would make them pay for every single tear. The Human Defect Is The White Wolf Queen
Werewolf Five years ago, I was kicked out of my pack for being a "defect"—a wolf who couldn't shift.
Today, I returned to the Alpha Summit, not as a dignitary, but as a cleaner scrubbing the floors.
"Look at the stray dog," my ex-fiance Liam sneered, tossing a wad of cash at my feet.
His new partner, Seraphina, laughed cruelly.
"Take it and buy your bastard child some food. Then get out of my sight."
I tried to ignore them, but my three-year-old son ran out to defend me.
When Seraphina tried to strike him, a shockwave of pure, dark Alpha energy blasted her back.
"He's a monster! Arrest them!" she shrieked.
Security guards swarmed us, their stun batons drawn on a toddler.
I shielded my son, bracing for the pain, knowing a "human" like me had no rights here.
Suddenly, the heavy ballroom doors disintegrated into dust.
A silence heavier than gravity crushed the room.
Damien, the Alpha King, stepped through the debris. His violet eyes didn't look at the trembling Alphas.
They locked onto me.
He walked past the dignitaries, past my terrified ex, and stopped in front of me.
Then, the most powerful creature on earth fell to his knees.
He gently touched my face, his voice shaking with reverence.
"I finally found you, my Queen."
He turned to the room, his eyes burning with violet fire.
"Who dared to touch my Luna?" Too Late For His Desperate Proposal
Romance For seventeen years, I loved my best friend, Holden King. I was the quiet girl who always had a bandage for his scraped knees, secretly believing we were meant to be.
But he shattered my world with six words: "She's my sister. That's all." He fell for the cruel and glamorous Fabiola, even taking her to our secret meadow.
Her jealousy was a poison. She faked a pregnancy to trap him, then hired a man to attack me in an alley. The trauma ruptured an aneurysm in my brain, and I went blind.
Through it all, Holden defended her. He refused to believe she was capable of such evil, choosing the monster he'd known for months over the girl he'd known his whole life.
My savior, a kind doctor named Jace, offered me a future, and we planned a fake wedding to give my terrified parents hope.
But as I stood blind at the altar, Holden crashed the ceremony. He fell to his knees, a diamond ring in his hand.
"I love you, Chloe," he cried. "Marry me." Burning Down the House of My Four Fake Lovers
Billionaires I am Elena Barron, the sole heiress to a global empire. My father raised four orphans to be my protectors and potential husbands, but my heart belonged to only one: Damien Paul.
But he didn't love me. He loved Luna, an intern he had me sponsor. He promised her that marrying me was just a business deal to secure my inheritance.
To make me more dependent, he orchestrated an accident where a massive chandelier nearly crushed me. My protector was too busy comforting Luna to even notice I was in danger.
The other three men I called brothers sided with them, calling me a vicious, jealous bitch.
After that brush with death, the love I had for them was gone. I finally gave up.
So at the gala where they planned to humiliate me one last time, broadcasting a secret video of me pining for Damien, I didn't cry.
I smiled.
Because they don't know I have my own surveillance footage, and I'm about to expose every last one of their sordid secrets. A Wife, A Placeholder, A Lie
Modern The frantic beeping of the heart monitor was the only sound as my son, Leo, struggled for every breath. Anaphylactic shock, the doctors said. A severe, unexpected allergic reaction. My world reeled as the nurse cried, "We need O-negative blood, now! The blood bank is running low." Just as despair threatened to swallow me, my friend Chloe stepped forward. "I'm O-negative. Take my blood. Take as much as you need."
Relief washed over me, a gratitude so immense it felt like pain. Hours later, with Leo sleeping peacefully thanks to Chloe' s heroic act, Liam, my husband, praised her as a "selfless hero." But then, I overheard Chloe's voice, cold and sharp, "I had to prick the little brat with that bee stinger. And I had to make sure he ate the crushed nuts. It was a mess, Liam." My hand froze on the faucet.
Liam' s voice, low and intimate, soothed her. "Now everyone sees you as a hero. The perfect, caring woman. We just need to wait a little longer." Chloe whined, "I'm tired of watching her play mother to my son. I want my life back. I want our life back." My son. The words slammed into me, shattering my reality.
He said it again: "Our son." My entire marriage was a meticulously crafted lie, a cage adorned to look like a home. Every loving glance, every tender touch, every shared laugh – a performance. I wasn't a wife; I was a placeholder. I wasn't a mother; I was a nanny. My sweet Leo, a prop in their cruel play. Liam was building a family, a life, not with me, but with her. I was just the convenient, naive stepping stone.
My blood ran cold. I wasn't just heartbroken; I was a pawn in an elaborate, sinister game. With trembling hands, I pulled out my phone and pressed record. I needed proof. I needed a record of this monstrosity. The Girl He Couldn't Save
Romance I was Maddy, once a folk singer with a heart full of songs, now just Ryan Scott' s trophy, living in a gilded cage to pay my mother's medical bills.
Then Ethan Lester, the boy who promised me forever before vanishing, reappeared at Ryan' s party, his eyes cold, judgmental, and engaged to the daughter of a music dynasty.
Just as I reeled from that shock, my phone rang, a chilling call from Sledge demanding five thousand dollars by nightfall or my mother would pay.
Ryan, my supposed protector, ignored my desperate pleas, leaving me to face a brutal attack on my mother and myself, all while Ethan' s fiancé, Gabrielle, held the ultimate power over my father' s wrongful imprisonment.
With Ryan proving useless and Ethan trapped by his family, Gabrielle offered me a sinister deal: my father' s freedom in exchange for my death.
So I made a choice, sacrificing myself in a fiery crash with Ryan, finally free, or so I thought.
Now, haunted by my past and consumed by vengeance, Ethan built a new ghost of me, a rising star who looks just like me, tormenting his wife and becoming the very monster he once fought. Music Row Betrayal
Modern My deadbeat cousin Andrew, always one gig away from stardom and a thousand dollars away from a loan shark' s wrath, begged me to save his skin. He needed a meeting with Mr. Hughes, a ghost in the Nashville music scene. Against my better judgment, leveraging years of hard-won respect, I pulled strings and secured him a miracle: a 10-minute slot with the industry giant.
Moments before this life-changing meeting, Andrew' s mother, my aunt Maria, stormed into my apartment. She snatched a stack of my jobless cousin' s demo CDs he'd given me "for free" and shrieked they were collector' s items, each worth a thousand dollars-demanding $10,000 from me. My parents, true to form, urged me to just "keep the peace."
Then, Andrew himself called. He didn't deny anything. Instead, he smugly claimed he' d given me the CDs out of pity and that he and Mr. Hughes were "tight," betraying every ounce of trust. Before I could even breathe, Maria lunged, smashing my phone and shoving me down the concrete stairs, leaving me bruised and humiliated, while my parents stood by, silent.
Why did they always put their spineless desire for "peace" above my dignity, my safety, my career? Why did I always have to be the one to pay, to suffer for their toxic family? Lying on the cold floor, seeing the shattered screen of my phone with three missed calls from Mr. Hughes's assistant, something inside me finally snapped. I slowly stood up. I wasn't just pulling out of the deal. I was about to unleash a reckoning. The Man She Called "Boring"
Romance On the eve of my wedding, I was in the new house I' d bought for Jennifer, practicing my vows, believing my devotion would finally earn her love.
My phone buzzed. It was a Finsta notification, her secret Instagram.
Curiosity twisted my gut as I opened it.
There, a picture of her hand, my three-carat diamond sparkling, intertwined with her ex-boyfriend Tyrone' s tattooed hand on a rumpled motel bed.
The caption read: "One last taste of freedom before I'm locked down. #WildHeart."
My blood ran cold.
I called, but her voice was sharp, annoyed; then I heard his low laugh.
Scrolling deeper, I found more: "He's so sweet and reliable, but so... boring. Sometimes I miss the passion."
And the one that killed me: "My heart belongs to the music, but my life belongs to the money. It is what it is. The wedding is on. At least I'll be rich."
Five years of love reduced to a transaction. I was just a walking ATM, a "boring safety net." Humiliation burned through me.
But as my best man called to confirm the limo, a new feeling pushed through the pain: resolve.
The wedding would happen.
But Jennifer Chavez would not be the bride.
I scrolled through my contacts. Molly Fuller. My college friend.
"How would you like to get married tomorrow?" I asked.
It was a contract. A shocking twist that would redefine everything. Her Calculated Comeback
Romance My mother stood before us, perfectly poised, offering a choice: a prestigious private school in California with a tech billionaire' s son, or an Ivy League education on the East Coast.
I chose California, naive enough to believe she wanted me there, only to fall deeply in love with Ethan, the quiet, brilliant son of the family.
But then, the betrayal started: a slurred confession from Ethan, a photoshopped image of him with my sister Ashley, and then, my mother' s enraged slap when I tried to follow Ethan to MIT.
They forbade me from going, twisting truths until my world shattered, leading to a hit-and-run that left me dying on cold asphalt, my mother and sister' s celebratory whispers ringing in my ears.
As my spirit faded, I watched Ethan, heartbroken, take his own life, and then, pure, unadulterated rage consumed me, fueling one last act of vengeance against Ashley.
And then, I woke up, back in that smoke-filled living room, with my mother giving the exact same fake choice and my sister already buzzing with greed.
This time, I wouldn' t fall for their lies.
This time, they would pay. The Unseen Love: A Mother's Secret
LGBT+ For my entire life, I lived in my brother Jack's shadow.
He was the charming, reckless musician; I was Emily, the quiet, responsible daughter, always overlooked.
As my mother, Susan Carter, lay dictating her will, I braced myself.
The old lawyer read it aloud: "To my son, Jack, the house and all my savings."
A predictable inheritance for the favored son.
But for me: "To my daughter, Emily, I leave my collection of old family recipe books, and the contents of the cedar chest in the attic."
Recipe books. An old chest. Worthless junk. It was the ultimate dismissal.
While Jack got new bikes, I patched my holed shoes.
While Mom funded his music dreams, I worked two jobs for my teaching degree.
My A' s uncelebrated; his D-grade parties.
Even in death, I was utterly alone, replaced by his triumphant smirk.
How could she? After everything I'd done for her – doctor appointments, meals.
This wasn't just neglect; this was personal.
A deliberate statement: "You are not valued. You are not loved. Not like he is."
My heart pounded with agonizing injustice.
Could there be anything more? Anything at all?
Mark, my husband, eyed my "worthless" inheritance.
"What if your mom didn' t know?" he suggested.
"Or what if… she left them for a reason, Emily? You love history. You' re the teacher."
The bitterness remained, but a defiant spark ignited.
What if this seemingly worthless inheritance held a secret, a different kind of legacy? You might like
After Divorce: My Arrogant Ex Regrets Calling Me Trash
Sea Jet Aurora woke up to the sterile chill of her king-sized bed in Sterling Thorne's penthouse. Today was the day her husband would finally throw her out like garbage. Sterling walked in, tossed divorce papers at her, and demanded her signature, eager to announce his "eligible bachelor" status to the world.
In her past life, the sight of those papers had broken her, leaving her begging for a second chance. Sterling's sneering voice, calling her a "trailer park girl" undeserving of his name, had once cut deeper than any blade. He had always used her humble beginnings to keep her small, to make her grateful for the crumbs of his attention. She had lived a gilded cage, believing she was nothing without him, until her life flatlined in a hospital bed, watching him give a press conference about his "grief."
But this time, she felt no sting, no tears. Only a cold, clear understanding of the mediocre man who stood on a pedestal she had painstakingly built with her own genius.
Aurora signed the papers, her name a declaration of independence. She grabbed her old, phoenix-stickered laptop, ready to walk out. Sterling Thorne was about to find out exactly how expensive "free" could be. He Thought I Was A Doormat, Until I Ruined Him
SHANA GRAY The sterile white of the operating room blurred, then sharpened, as Skye Sterling felt the cold clawing its way up her body. The heart monitor flatlined, a steady, high-pitched whine announcing her end. Her uterus had been removed, a desperate attempt to stop the bleeding, but the blood wouldn't clot. It just kept flowing, warm and sticky, pooling beneath her.
Through heavy eyes, she saw a trembling nurse holding a phone on speaker. "Mr. Kensington," the nurse's voice cracked, "your wife... she's critical." A pause, then a sweet, poisonous giggle. Seraphina Miller. "Liam is in the shower," Seraphina's voice purred. "Stop calling, Skye. It's pathetic. Faking a medical emergency on our anniversary? Even for you, that's low." Then, Liam's bored voice: "If she dies, call the funeral home. I have a meeting in the morning." Click. The line went dead.
A second later, so did Skye. The darkness that followed was absolute, suffocating, a black ocean crushing her lungs. She screamed into the void, a silent, agonizing wail of regret for loving a man who saw her as a nuisance, for dying without ever truly living.
Until she died, she didn't understand. Why was her life so tragically wasted? Why did her husband, the man she loved, abandon her so cruelly? The injustice of it all burned hotter than the fever in her body.
Then, the air rushed back in. Skye gasped, her body convulsing violently on the mattress. Her eyes flew open, wide and terrified, staring blindly into the darkness. Her trembling hand reached for her phone. May 12th. Five years ago. She was back. His Twisted Game, My Dangerous Love
Elroy Notman Vesper's marriage to Julian Sterling was a gilded cage. One morning, she woke naked beside Damon Sterling, Julian's terrifying brother, then found a text: Julian's mistress was pregnant. Her world shattered, but the real nightmare had just begun.
Julian's abuse escalated, gaslighting Vesper, funding his secret life. Damon, a germaphobic billionaire, became her unsettling anchor amidst his chaos.
As "Iris," Vesper exposed Julian's mistress, Serena Sharp, sparking brutal war: poisoned drinks, a broken leg, and the horrifying truth-Julian murdered her parents, trapping Vesper in marriage.
The man she married was a killer. Broken and betrayed, Vesper was caught between monstrous brothers, burning with injustice.
Refusing victimhood, Vesper reclaimed her identity. Fueled by vengeance, she allied with Damon, who vowed to burn his empire for her. Julian faced justice, but matriarch Eleanor's counterattack forced Vesper's choice as a hitman aimed for her. Reborn Rich, My Vengeance Rises
Rabbit 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. HIS DOE, HIS DAMNATION(An Erotic Billionaire Romance)
Viviene Trigger/Content Warning:
This story contains mature themes and explicit content intended for adult audiences(18+). Reader discretion is advised.
It includes elements such as BDSM dynamics, explicit sexual content, toxic family relationships, occasional violence and strong language.
This is not a fluffy romance. It is intense, raw and messy, and explores the darker side of desire.
*****
"Take off your dress, Meadow."
"Why?"
"Because your ex is watching," he said, leaning back into his seat. "And I want him to see what he lost."
••••*••••*••••*
Meadow Russell was supposed to get married to the love of her life in Vegas. Instead, she walked in on her twin sister riding her fiance.
One drink at the bar turned to ten. One drunken mistake turned into reality. And one stranger's offer turned into a contract that she signed with shaking hands and a diamond ring.
Alaric Ashford is the devil in a tailored Tom Ford suit. Billionaire CEO, brutal, possessive. A man born into an empire of blood and steel.
He also suffers from a neurological condition-he can't feel. Not objects, not pain, not even human touch.
Until Meadow touches him, and he feels everything. And now he owns her. On paper and in his bed.
She wants him to ruin her. Take what no one else could have. He wants control, obedience... revenge.
But what starts as a transaction slowly turns into something Meadow never saw coming.
Obsession, secrets that were never meant to surface, and a pain from the past that threatens to break everything.
Alaric doesn't share what's his.
Not his company.
Not his wife.
And definitely not his vengeance.
My Husband's Blindness, My Sweet Revenge
Winnie Suchoff The roasted lamb was cold, a reflection of her marriage. On their third anniversary, Evelyn Vance waited alone in her Manhattan penthouse. Then her phone buzzed: Alexander, her husband, had been spotted leaving the hospital, holding his childhood sweetheart Scarlett Sharp's hand.
Alexander arrived hours later, dismissing Evelyn's quiet complaint with a cold reminder: she was Mrs. Vance, not a victim. Her mother's demands reinforced this role, making Evelyn, a brilliant mind, feel like a ghost. A dangerous indifference replaced betrayal. The debt was paid; now, it was her turn.
She drafted a divorce settlement, waiving everything. As Alexander's tender voice drifted from his study, speaking to Scarlett, Evelyn placed her wedding ring on his pillow, moved to the guest suite, and locked the door. The dull wife was gone; the Oracle was back. After My Husband Cheated, I Married His Greatest Rival
Rabbit 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. Pregnant and Divorced: I Hid His Heir
Shirlee Melnick Vivian clutched her Hermès bag, her doctor's words echoing: "Extremely high-risk pregnancy." She hoped the baby would save her cold marriage, but Julian wasn't in London as his schedule claimed. Instead, a paparazzi photo revealed his early return-with a blonde woman, not his wife, at the private airport exit.
The next morning, Julian served divorce papers, callously ending their "duty" marriage for his ex, Serena. A horrifying contract clause gave him the right to terminate her pregnancy or seize their child. Humiliated, demoted, and forced to fake an ulcer, Vivian watched him parade his affair, openly discarding her while celebrating Serena.
This was a calculated erasure, not heartbreak. He cared only for his image, confirming he would "handle" the baby himself. A primal rage ignited her. "Just us," she whispered to her stomach, vowing to sign the divorce on her terms, keep her secret safe, and walk away from Sterling Corp for good, ready to protect her child alone. 
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