Xia Luowei
14 Published Stories
Xia Luowei's Books and Stories
Flash Marriage To The Cold CEO
Romance To save her mother from her abusive stepfather, Jocelyn was forced to sign her life away and marry Houston Matthews, a ruthless and terrifyingly wealthy CEO.
But shortly after moving into his sterile penthouse and playing the perfect, doting wife for his grandfather, she made a devastating mistake: she cooked him a plate of homemade dumplings.
Instead of a thank you, Houston stared at the food with contracted pupils and pale cheeks, reacting with an inexplicable, cold fury as if she had served him pure poison.
Things escalated when his meddling grandfather forced them into the same bedroom and slipped a powerful aphrodisiac into their nightly milk.
Driven by a drugged, feverish haze, Houston pinned her to the bed, tearing through her inhibitions in a storm of desperate possession, but by morning, he reverted to an impassive stranger in a crisp suit, looking at her bruised body with nothing but regret.
Jocelyn trembled with hot, acidic shame, completely unable to understand why a simple plate of dumplings triggered such violent trauma in this billionaire, nor how he could use her so thoroughly in the dark only to discard her like a cheap transaction in the daylight.
The last shred of her naive hope shattered, and she picked up the priceless emerald matriarch bracelet his grandfather had given her, placing it onto the table with a sharp, final clink.
"Our agreement did not include this." Flash Marriage To The Secret Zillionaire
Modern Blaire's mother gave her a ruthless ultimatum: find a husband today, or never call her mother again.
Desperate to escape the suffocating control and disastrous blind dates, Blaire agreed to a fake marriage with a stranger she met through an old woman.
She thought she was marrying a dirt-poor salesman drowning in mortgage debt.
They lived in a rundown Queens apartment and split the living expenses fifty-fifty.
He drove a sputtering Toyota Camry, established extreme territorial rules, and treated her like a gold-digging biohazard.
When she accidentally tripped and spilled hot soup on him, he didn't help her up, instead accusing her of using pathetic tricks to seduce him.
Her own mother even crashed their apartment, ruthlessly mocking his pathetic financial state and calling him a total loser.
Blaire endured his coldness and extreme germaphobia, genuinely pitying him for his stressful, low-paying job.
She refunded his money and defended his dignity, refusing to take advantage of a struggling man.
But she couldn't understand why this supposedly broke guy possessed such a lethal, commanding aura, or why an incredibly expensive cashmere blanket mysteriously appeared on her when she was freezing on the couch.
Until her brother called with a shocking warning.
"Blaire, the name on your marriage certificate belongs to the notoriously secretive billionaire CEO of New York's top financial syndicate!"
Blaire laughed out loud, completely unaware that behind the bedroom door, her "broke" husband was frantically ordering his PR team to bury his true identity. The Phantom Heiress: His Secret Obsession
Modern After eighteen years, I finally returned to the billionaire Warren family, only to be treated like uneducated, rust-belt trash.
My stepmother shoved me into a freezing, windowless room, and my half-sister Kelly bought me an $89 plastic dress to humiliate me at the family's high-society gala.
When her petty bullying failed, Kelly took it a step further. Standing at the top of the grand marble staircase, she grabbed my wrist, screamed, and intentionally threw herself down the steps in front of hundreds of elite guests.
Lying in a pool of her own blood, she pointed a trembling finger at me.
"She pushed me! Corrie tried to kill me!"
The entire ballroom erupted in disgust. The guests called me a psychopath. My biological father, purple with rage, raised his hand to strike me, while my stepmother hid a victorious smirk behind her fake tears.
They thought they had perfectly framed the feral country bumpkin.
But they had no idea who they were dealing with.
They didn't know I was "Night God," the dark web's most legendary underground surgeon and hacker, currently being hunted by New York's most ruthless billionaire.
I didn't panic. I didn't cry.
I calmly pulled out my heavily encrypted phone and projected a crystal-clear, un-hackable security feed onto the ballroom's massive LED screen.
"Let's see the replay," I said.
Watching the color drain from their faces was just the beginning. I was going to tear this entire toxic family apart to find out who really burned my mother alive. From Rejected Maid to the Lycan King's Queen
Werewolf The clerk at the Registry couldn't look me in the eye when she turned the screen around.
My status didn't say "Luna" anymore. It said "Rogue."
My mate, Alpha Jackson, had secretly replaced me on the official paperwork three years ago with his mistress, Candida.
When I returned to the Pack House, Jackson didn't just bring Candida home; he brought a five-year-old boy he claimed was an orphan.
"This is Joey," he announced, his eyes cold and glazed over. "Since you are barren, he will be the future Alpha."
I tried to accept my fate as a servant in my own home, but they wanted me dead.
The boy, looking like an angel, brought me a bowl of soup.
"For you, Mama," he smiled.
But as I reached for it, he splashed the scalding liquid over my hands.
It wasn't just hot soup. It was laced with concentrated Wolfsbane.
As my skin sizzled and peeled, the boy threw himself on the floor, screaming that I had attacked him.
Jackson didn't check my burns. He didn't listen to my pleas.
"Submit!" he roared, using the Alpha Command to force me to my knees.
He made me apologize to the child who had just poisoned me.
That night, listening to Jackson mate with Candida in the room next to mine, the bond finally snapped.
They wanted the Luna gone? Fine.
I dialed a number I hadn't used in years.
"Hamilton," I whispered to the Lycan King. "I need a plane. And I need it to crash." Too Late: The Don Begs Forgiveness
Mafia I placed the divorce papers on the mahogany desk, ending five years of being the perfect, silent wife to the most ruthless Don in Chicago.
He didn't sign them. Instead, Kaden Barnes looked at me with cold, reptilian eyes and named his price for my freedom.
"Thirty lashes," he said. "The discipline of a traitor."
I accepted. I let his enforcer shred my back until I was dragging myself across the gravel driveway in a pool of my own crimson.
But as I crawled toward the exit, I heard him laughing with his mistress, Brittaney.
"Harlow isn't my wife," he sneered. "The certificate is a forgery. She owns nothing."
My loyalty had been a lie. And when Brittaney faked an injury to frame me, Kaden didn't check on my bleeding wounds.
He tied my wrists and ankles to the tow hitch of his SUV.
He drove forward until my hip popped and my shoulder dislocated, leaving me broken in the dirt while his mistress smiled.
He thought he had destroyed me. He didn't know his mother would smuggle me onto a private jet to London that very night.
Three years later, the Barnes empire collapsed. Kaden was rotting in a Supermax prison, betrayed by the very mistress he had tortured me to protect.
Now, a letter sits on my desk in Kensington.
The monster is dying of cancer, and he has left me his entire fortune.
I packed my bag for one last trip.
It was time to see if the King had finally learned that he threw away a diamond to chase after cheap glass. The Barren Wife's Cold Hearted Revenge
Modern For eight years, I endured seven miscarriages, clinging to the hope of starting a family with my husband, Joshua.
Then I overheard the truth. He and my adoptive sister, Harlow, had orchestrated every loss. They needed the unique stem cells from my miscarriages to cure their own secret child.
My body was just an incubator for their twisted plan. After the eighth miscarriage, they left me barren, my womb removed to save my life. They stole my children, my future, and my ability to ever be a mother.
They thought I was a broken, naive princess. They had no idea they had just created a queen bent on revenge.
Now, I'm back. And I will burn their empire to the ground, leaving them with nothing but the ashes of their betrayal. His Stolen Luna, His Ultimate Regret
Werewolf For five years, I was the fated mate of Alpha Alan, the Luna of the Bloodmoon Pack. But for all five of those years, his heart belonged to another woman—Fiona.
On our shared birthday, the final thread of my hope snapped. I watched as she descended the grand staircase in a magnificent silver gown, a dress he had promised was a surprise for me. In front of the entire pack, she walked to him and kissed his cheek.
He always claimed Fiona was a fragile, broken wolf who needed his protection. For years, I believed his lies. I endured his indifference while he gave my dreams to her, celebrating her birthday in secret while leaving me with the hollow title of Luna.
When I confronted him, he dismissed my pain.
"She just doesn't get it," he complained to Fiona, his voice seeping into my mind through our broken bond. "Thinking a mate title can chain me. It's suffocating."
He thought he was suffocating? I was the one drowning in his neglect. He wasn't my mate; he was a coward, and I was just a cage he was forced into by the Goddess.
So I walked out of the hall, and later, out of his life. I formally rejected him. As the bond shattered between us, he finally panicked, begging me to reconsider. But it was too late. I was done being his cage. The Ex's Ruthless Revenge
Modern My company, Innovate, was my life' s work, built from the ground up with my boyfriend, Caleb, over ten years. We were college sweethearts, a golden couple, and our biggest deal, a $50 million contract with Apex Ventures, was finally closing.
Then, a sudden wave of nausea hit me, and I fainted, only to wake up in a hospital. When I returned to the office, my keycard was denied, my access revoked, and my photo, defaced with an "X," was in the trash.
Krystal Schroeder, a young intern Caleb had hired, was sitting at my desk, acting like the new Chief of Operations. She announced loudly that "non-essential personnel" were to stay clear, looking directly at me. Caleb, the man who had promised me the world, stood by, his face cold and indifferent. He dismissed my pregnancy, calling it a distraction, and put me on mandatory leave.
I saw a tube of Krystal' s bright red lipstick on Caleb' s desk, the same shade I' d seen on his collar. The pieces clicked: the late nights, the "business dinners," his sudden obsession with his phone-it was all a lie. They had been planning this for months.
The man I loved was gone, replaced by a stranger. But I wouldn' t let them take everything. I told Caleb I was leaving, but not without my full share of the company, valued at the post-Apex funding price. I also reminded him that the core algorithm, the one Apex was investing in, was patented in my name alone.
I walked out, pulling out my phone to call the one person I never thought I would: Easton Jensen, my fiercest rival. My Twin, His Obsession
Romance The air in Demian Oliver' s apartment was thick and hot, our bodies slick with sweat. This was it, the secret celebration of our graduation, the moment I had waited for.
Then, in the peak of his passion, he whispered a name: "Finley."
Not my name.
My name is Finley Brooks. Finley is my younger twin sister.
My whole body went cold.
I found his phone, and a group chat called "The Conquest" revealed a picture of me sleeping in his bed, my back exposed.
Messages confirmed my worst fears: "Consider this a warm-up. Gotta get familiar with the family before I go for the main prize."
Two years of secret dates, stolen kisses, and whispered promises were all a lie. I was just a conquest, an appetizer for my own sister.
The humiliation continued at the graduation party.
My sister, Finley, publicly exposed the hickeys Demian had left on my neck, mocking me. Demian, the man I thought loved me, stood by and watched, his expression unreadable. Later, during a game of Truth or Dare, he publicly disowned me, forcing me to drink an entire bottle of vodka.
I didn't understand. Why was I always the target? Why did my own family, and the man I loved, choose to humiliate me so cruelly?
That night, I received an email: early admission to Crestwood Institute for Advanced Research, a secluded university thousands of miles away. It was my chance to escape, to become a ghost. Winter's Betrayal: A Groom Left Behind
Romance For seven years, I, Liam Davies, built a life loving pop star Serena Vance, accepting her "Winter" persona as a quirky brand, a harmless aesthetic.
Then, on our wedding day, a mysterious gift arrived, shattering her public smile and revealing a name: Donovan Thorne.
Her face drained, her hands trembled, and as she lifted the lid, a single preserved white rose under glass mocked our seven years with its presence, proving her "Winter" was not a season, but a person-a dead person.
She whispered, "I can't do this," and ran, leaving me at the altar, realizing I was just a placeholder for a ghost, a humiliating truth that twisted my stomach.
When she tried to buy my silence and cooperation by threatening my sister Chloe' s life-saving medical treatment, a cold, hard resolve set in: she wouldn' t just lose a fiancé, she' d lose everything. Her Betrayal, My Cancer, Our End
Modern The opening bell rang, deafeningly loud. Confetti rained down on the NASDAQ trading floor as our company, Innovatech, went public. My arm was around my wife, Sarah, smiling for the cameras. Millions of dollars, years of coding in my garage, all of it had paid off. I was on top of the world.
Just two hours later, an antiseptic smell filled Dr. Chen' s sterile office. The smile was gone.
"It's pancreatic cancer, Ethan," he said softly. "Stage four. It's...aggressive."
The words hung heavy. IPO day. The best day of my life. And now this. The irony was a physical blow.
I drove home in a daze, the city lights blurring. I needed to tell Sarah. We' d face this together.
She was waiting when I walked into our large, empty house. Not smiling. Dressed in a sharp business suit, a leather briefcase on the coffee table.
"Sarah," I started, my voice cracking, "I just came from the doctor's office. It's bad news."
She held up a hand. "I know." Her voice was cold, completely devoid of emotion.
"You know?"
"I called Dr. Chen's office. The receptionist said he had an urgent appointment with you. I figured it was serious." She slid a thick stack of papers across the table. "These are divorce papers, Ethan."
I stared at the documents, then back at her face. "Divorce? Now? Sarah, I have cancer."
A small, ugly smirk played on her lips. "Exactly. My lawyer has already transferred the liquid assets. The IPO provided a lot of liquidity. It's better this way."
"Better this way? I'm sick, Sarah! I'm dying!"
"Don't be so dramatic," she scoffed, standing up. "Treatment would be a waste of money. Money that is now mine. You should just take whatever is left and enjoy your last few days. Don't waste it on doctors."
She walked to the door. Her heels clicked loudly. She didn't look back once. The door closed, a soft, final click. I was alone. The divorce papers sat on the table, a testament to a decade. The confetti felt like a distant, faded memory.
When Chloe, my childhood friend, inexplicably appeared at my doorstep, worry etched on her face, everything changed. She dropped her lucrative career for me. As I looked at her, then at the divorce papers, a dangerous plan began to solidify in my mind. From Midland Wife to Port City Queen
Modern The tiny plus sign on my pregnancy test was supposed to be the culmination of six years of IVF, a symbol of hope.
But then, a notification flashed across my phone screen: Chloe Bishop, my husband Mark' s executive assistant.
Her Instagram story showed Mark, my husband of almost six years, tenderly cutting steak for her.
Her caption: "My boss is the sweetest... I'd do anything for him! 😉 #BestBoss" The date stamp? Last night, celebrating "3 Years!"
Three years. We'd been married for almost six.
The nausea intensified, but it wasn't just morning sickness; it was pure disgust.
Mark' s call, dismissive, praising Chloe and her "lifesaving" efficiency, sealed it.
He called me "dramatic." He was praising his mistress to his wife, who just found out she was pregnant with his child after years of heartbreaking treatments.
The baby I' d fought so hard for, his baby, was conceived in a life built on his lie.
His betrayal was blatant, then aggressive.
Chloe slid into my apartment with a key during a blizzard, cozying up to him.
She sent me a suggestive photo, then faked a frantic call about a "boyfriend" and a "private suite."
On our sixth wedding anniversary, Mark abandoned me in my black dress for Chloe' s manufactured crisis, her fake pregnancy and suicide threat.
How could he be so blind? So utterly, completely heartless?
My quiet life had become a very loud, very ugly lie. It wasn't surprising anymore; it was just… final.
But I wasn't just Ellie anymore. I was Eleanor Hayes.
I signed the divorce papers, got the abortion, and left him a note with a rejected diamond ring.
Then, I boarded a flight back to Port City, ready to unleash the true power he never knew I possessed. The Impostor Husband
Romance My husband Julian Hawthorne was supposed to be dead, a casualty of the corporate wars.
But as the victory news echoed, a chilling memory resurfaced: he wasn't dead.
He was a liar, a manipulator, and he' d returned, impersonating his twin, Damian.
Just as I remembered his brutal betrayal-how he' d orchestrated my ruin while publicly adoring my stepsister Cassie-his mother, Isabelle, announced my fate: five years of deep mourning, social seclusion, and no remarriage.
This was the same trap from my first life.
When I defied her, Julian, playing the grieving brother, and Cassie, the picture of tearful devastation, tried to paint me as unhinged.
Then, 'Damian' fastened a diamond pendant around Cassie' s neck-a design I' d created, a cruel symbol of their shared deception.
The true horror wasn't just Julian's monstrous fraud, but Cassie's chilling confession: she knew.
My own stepsister, complicit in plunging me into this gilded cage of despair.
Stripped of everything, publicly shamed, I was adrift in a sea of their lies.
But I refused to be a victim again.
When facing utter disgrace, I demanded: "Is there any man here willing to marry me today?"
Silence met my plea.
Then, from the shadows, a calm voice cut through: "I am willing."
Noah Kincaid.
My unexpected salvation, or simply another pawn in the Hawthorne game?
This time, I' d reclaim my destiny. You might like
Shielded By The Ruthless Military Boss
Mo Yufei I was an intern nurse working exhausting shifts, yet my mother constantly forced me into blind dates with wealthy, arrogant men to secure our family's social standing.
During a terrifying hospital lockdown, an assassin disguised as a doctor held a scalpel to my throat. I was almost killed, but a high-ranking military colonel threw his own body down a flight of concrete stairs to shield me.
I survived with cuts and bruises, but when I went home, my mother didn't care about my near-death experience. She was only furious that I had rushed out on my blind date with Preston, a rich financial analyst.
She forced me to meet him to apologize. When Preston grabbed my arm, bruised me, and mocked my attack as a pathetic lie, my mother still took his side.
"Men get angry," she told me coldly. "It's your job not to provoke them. You will beg for his forgiveness, or you are no longer welcome in this house."
I had narrowly escaped an assassin, yet my own family was willing to feed me to a monster just for a fat paycheck and neighborhood gossip.
My heart went completely dead.
So, when the intimidating Colonel appeared, offering me maximum military protection through a sudden marriage, I didn't hesitate.
I walked back into my parents' house and calmly slapped a crisp marriage certificate onto the coffee table.
"I won't be apologizing to Preston. I got married today." Flash Marriage To My Best Friend's Father
Madel Cerda I was once the heiress to the Solomon empire, but after it crumbled, I became the "charity case" ward of the wealthy Hyde family. For years, I lived in their shadows, clinging to the promise that Anson Hyde would always be my protector.
That promise shattered when Anson walked into the ballroom with Claudine Chapman on his arm. Claudine was the girl who had spent years making my life a living hell, and now Anson was announcing their engagement to the world.
The humiliation was instant. Guests sneered at my cheap dress, and a waiter intentionally sloshed champagne over me, knowing I was a nobody. Anson didn't even look my way; he was too busy whispering possessively to his new fiancée. I was a ghost in my own home, watching my protector celebrate with my tormentor.
The betrayal burned. I realized I wasn't a ward; I was a pawn Anson had kept on a shelf until he found a better trade. I had no money, no allies, and a legal trust fund that Anson controlled with a flick of his wrist.
Fleeing to the library, I stumbled into Dallas Koch-a titan of industry and my best friend's father. He was a wall of cold, absolute power that even the Hydes feared.
"Marry me," I blurted out, desperate to find a shield Anson couldn't climb.
Dallas didn't laugh. He pulled out a marriage agreement and a heavy fountain pen.
"Sign," he commanded, his voice a low rumble. "But if you walk out that door with me, you never go back."
I signed my name, trading my life for the only man dangerous enough to keep me safe. While I Was Bleeding Out, He Lit Lanterns For Her
Katie Oettgen As I lay on the floor of our manor, bleeding out from a ruptured ectopic pregnancy, I used my last ounce of strength to call my husband, Cole.
I begged him for help, my vision blurring.
But the only thing I heard was the clinking of champagne glasses and his mistress's giggle in the background.
"Stop the drama, June," Cole snapped, his voice cold. "We're about to go on stage. Don't call again."
He hung up, leaving me to die alone on the Persian rug while he accepted an award with another woman on his arm.
I woke up in the hospital days later. My baby was gone. They had removed my fallopian tube.
Cole finally arrived, smelling of expensive scotch and his mistress's perfume. He didn't hug me. He didn't cry.
Instead, he leaned over my hospital bed, pressing his knee into the mattress until my fresh stitches tore open and bled.
"You embarrassed me by calling an ambulance," he hissed. "My mistress, Alycia, says you're faking it. Clean yourself up."
He left me bleeding again to go announce a $10 million donation to Alycia's "groundbreaking" medical research.
I stared at the TV screen, numb. The research Alycia was taking credit for? It was mine. I wrote that patent years ago under a pseudonym.
They thought I was just a poor, orphan housewife who needed Cole's money to survive.
They had no idea I was actually a billionaire scientist hiding my identity.
I pulled the IV needle out of my arm. A drop of blood fell onto the divorce papers I had been hiding.
I didn't wipe it off. I signed my name right over it.
Then I walked into the bank, reactivated my dormant account with $128 million, and bought the penthouse directly overlooking Cole's house.
The mourning widow is dead. The avenger is born. His Unwanted Wife Is A Tech Genius
Elroy Notman For three years, Cali Sullivan abandoned her brilliant tech career to be the quiet, accommodating wife of billionaire Halsey Donovan.
But on her thirtieth birthday, she returned to their London mansion only to find it empty. The housekeeper, looking at her with deep pity, revealed that Halsey had taken his female friend, Brittaney, out shopping to celebrate her birthday instead.
He had even taken their young daughter, Lily, with them. When Cali called him, Halsey coldly dismissed her, his attention entirely on Brittaney's bright laughter in the background. The crushing blow came the next morning when Cali stood outside Lily's bedroom and overheard her own daughter's innocent wish.
"I wish Auntie Brittaney could be my new mommy. I think Daddy would like that, too."
Later that afternoon, Cali saw them through the window of a private club. Halsey was wiping a smudge from Lily's face with a tender focus he never showed his wife, while Brittaney casually fed him cake. They looked like the perfect, happy family. All of Cali's desperate love and sacrifices felt like a cruel joke. She had been entirely erased from her own family.
In that moment, the agonizing pain just stopped, replaced by a cold, absolute clarity. Cali drafted a divorce agreement waiving every cent of his wealth, left her platinum wedding rings on the nightstand, and booked a one-way flight back to New York. She was no longer Mrs. Donovan; it was time to get her real name back. The Neglected Wife's Vicious Comeback Game
Xiu Luo On our third anniversary, my husband canceled our dinner, claiming a sudden work emergency.
I tracked his phone to an exclusive French restaurant, only to find him tenderly fastening a blessed bracelet—one I had flown across the world to get for him—onto his college ex-girlfriend's wrist.
The sheer shock triggered a violent placental abruption. Bleeding out in my car just across the street, I frantically called his number. Through the window, I watched him glance at his screen, frown in annoyance, and press decline to focus on his lover. While I was wheeled into a freezing operating room for an emergency C-section utterly alone, he took his mistress back to our marital bed.
He didn't even bother to check if I was alive, completely oblivious that our premature daughter was fighting for her life in the NICU. I soon discovered our entire marriage was a sham. He had used my family's wealth to save his company, and now he was trading me to secure a massive business deal with his ex's father. The man I loved didn't exist; he only saw me as a disposable asset.
"I'm going to make him wish he had never been born."
After secretly securing my baby in a private retreat, I ordered a medical-grade silicone pregnancy belly to hide my flat stomach. I stepped back into our penthouse, ready to burn his precious empire to the ground. One Night With My Billionaire Boss
Nathaniel Stone I woke up on silk sheets that smelled of expensive cedar and cold sandalwood, a world away from my cramped apartment in Brooklyn.
Beside me lay Ezra Gardner-my boss, the billionaire CEO of Gardner Holdings, and the man who could end my career with a snap of his fingers.
He didn't offer an apology for the night before; instead, he looked at me with terrifying clarity and proposed a cold, calculated business arrangement.
"Marriage. It stabilizes the board and solves the PR crisis before it begins."
He dressed me in archival Chanel and sent me home in his Maybach, but my life was already falling apart. My boyfriend, Irving, claimed he had passed out early, yet his location data placed him at my best friend's apartment until three in the morning. When I tried to run, I realized Ezra was already ten steps ahead, tracking my movements and uncovering the secret I'd spent twenty years hiding: my connection to the powerful Senator Grimes.
I was trapped between a CEO who treated me like a line item on a quarterly report and a boyfriend who had been using me while sleeping with my closest friend. I felt like a pawn in a game I didn't understand, wondering why a man like Ezra would walk up forty flights of stairs on a broken leg just to make sure I was safe.
"Showtime, Mrs. Gardner."
Standing on the red carpet in a gown that cost more than my life, I watched my cheating ex-boyfriend's face turn pale as Ezra claimed me in front of the world. I wasn't just an assistant anymore; I was a weapon, and it was time to burn their world down. The Runaway Wife: Escaping His Gilded Cage
Jing Buhui Ava had been married to Wall Street titan Damian Carlisle for three years, an orphan chosen by his late grandmother solely to provide an heir.
But at the matriarch's funeral, Damian stood intimately before the flashing cameras with his childhood sweetheart, Isabelle.
The entire elite family deliberately excluded Ava, leaving her standing alone in the shadows.
The guests whispered about how perfect Damian and Isabelle looked together, completely ignoring the actual wife standing right there.
To Damian, Ava was nothing more than a piece of inherited furniture he didn't know where to place.
Realizing she was just a discarded placeholder, Ava quietly left the estate and sent him divorce papers.
But Isabelle secretly intercepted the legal documents to keep Damian in the dark.
Enraged when he finally discovered her escape, Damian tracked Ava down to her shabby Brooklyn rental.
He smashed through her door, physically dragged her out in the middle of the night, and forced her back to the sprawling estate.
He installed new locks on the reinforced windows, pinned her to the bed, and coldly commanded her to fulfill her biological duty.
"You owe this family, Ava. You were given everything, and this is how you will repay that debt."
Trapped in the dark, a chilling despair washed over her as she realized a piece of paper could never free her.
Against his absolute wealth and power, her rights and her tears meant absolutely nothing.
But as her gaze fell on the corporate financial reports she had been secretly analyzing, her fear vanished.
If the law couldn't beat him, she would use the only language he understood.
She would accept the executive position at his rival's firm, dismantle his empire piece by piece, and personally ruin him. Pampered By The Cold Mind Reading Tycoon
Hen Bu I woke up from a coma in the hospital, universally condemned as the vicious daughter who pushed the beloved fake heiress, Georgina, down the stairs.
My ruthless billionaire brother, Angelo, stood over my bed with cold eyes, ready to destroy me for hurting his precious sister.
But as I looked at him, a terrifying prophecy from my coma flooded my brain. Our entire family was doomed.
In the original timeline, Georgina would team up with corporate rivals to bankrupt the company, frame Angelo, and send him to federal prison, while our parents would abandon me to die miserably.
Lying there, I didn't dare speak. I just desperately cursed my idiot brother in my head.
"This stupid brother is still yelling at me for that fake heiress. He doesn't even know he's going to be framed and sent to prison next month!"
I just wanted to stay quiet, let them ruin themselves, and run away from this toxic family.
But strangely, Angelo didn't strangle me. Instead, his attitude took a shocking turn.
He abruptly fired the driver plotting to kill him, destroyed the abusive fiancé of a family ally, and publicly humiliated Georgina at a high-society gala.
He even shielded me from our abusive parents, declaring to the world that I was the only sister he would ever protect.
I was completely terrified and confused. Why was the tyrant brother suddenly acting like a protective beast?
It wasn't until he flawlessly crushed a massive corporate attack using the exact financial secrets I had just complained about in my mind that a horrifying realization hit me.
He could hear my inner thoughts! Too Late, Mr. CEO: Watch Me Shine
Nieves Gómez Kayla stood outside the CEO suite, holding a custom suit for her fiancé, Brennon. They had spent seven years building a tech company from a freezing garage into a billion-dollar empire.
But through the cracked door, she heard the breathy laugh of Evelin, the newly hired director. Then came Brennon's low, careless voice.
"The wedding's a PR milestone for the IPO, nothing more."
Kayla's blood turned to ice.
"She's comfortable. Makes sense on paper," Brennon continued. "But you, Evelin. You understand ambition."
The betrayal hit her like a physical blow. She had written the core code that made him a billionaire. She had stayed up until 4 AM debugging while he slept on a futon. Now, he was mocking their relationship to his mistress and handing over her life's work to a woman who couldn't even read a data log.
Seven years of loyalty, reduced to a PR stunt. She didn't cry. Instead, a cold, violent clarity washed over her. Why should she let him keep the crown she forged?
Without a word, she pulled the three-carat diamond off her finger and dropped it into her bag. She walked out of the building, drafted her resignation, and accepted a VP position at his biggest Wall Street rival. It was time to show Brennon what happened when the real genius behind his empire decided to tear it down. 
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