Xia Qingnuan
16 Published Stories
Xia Qingnuan's Books and Stories
Reborn to Burn: The Heiress’s Revenge
Romance On the night of her wedding, Alexis Davenport was tied to a rusted steel pillar in a dark wine cellar, her couture gown soaked in her own blood.
Her husband of three hours, Colby, casually flicked a lighter and sneered that he never loved her, only coveting her family's priceless tech patents.
Beside him stood Bobbye, the orphaned cousin the Davenports had raised like a second daughter, who slapped Alexis and declared she was taking over her life.
They brutally forced Alexis's crushed, bloody thumbprint onto the equity transfer papers.
Then, Bobbye smiled and held up her phone, showing a live security feed of the Davenport estate engulfed in roaring flames, with Alexis's parents trapped inside.
Colby poured industrial gasoline over Alexis's head and tossed the lighter.
"Go reunite with your parents in hell."
As the hungry fire swallowed her alive, unbearable hatred poisoned her dying mind.
Her family had given them wealth, education, and unconditional love. Why did they slaughter them so ruthlessly?
She swore if there was an afterlife, she would drag them both into the abyss.
Suddenly, Alexis's eyes snapped open, gasping for air.
The agonizing heat was gone. She was lying in a sterile hospital bed, her skin completely unblemished.
She looked at the digital calendar on the wall: May 17, exactly three years ago.
She had returned to the day of her engagement party.
This time, she would ally with Wall Street's most dangerous tyrant and burn their lives to the ground. Stealing The Groom For Sweet Revenge
Romance I was an unwanted foster kid taken in by the Goodwin family, about to marry into the wealthy Cantu family to secure my adoptive father's power.
But at my rehearsal dinner, my adoptive mother drugged my champagne, intending to have me assaulted and ruined.
The next morning, my fiancé and my sister burst into my hotel room with a swarm of reporters, pointing fingers in manufactured horror.
"You filthy whore! The engagement is over!"
My fiancé roared for the cameras, while my sister sobbed about my betrayal. They had brought the press to publicly slaughter me, justifying their own secret affair while my adoptive family cursed me as a disgusting stray.
For years, I had endured their toxic abuse, only to be thrown to the wolves so my sister could steal my life. They truly believed I was just a helpless pawn they could crush and discard.
But they didn't know I had anticipated their trap and deliberately walked into the bed of Dorian Underwood—the ruthless billionaire and the only man the Cantu family actually feared.
As I calmly hit 'send' to broadcast my fiancé's explicit sex tape to every reporter in the hallway, I met Dorian's dark, predatory gaze.
I wasn't just surviving anymore; I was going to tear both their empires to the ground. He Chose Her Lies, I Chose Revenge
Mafia I was the spare daughter of the Vitiello crime family, born solely to provide organs for my golden sister, Isabella.
Four years ago, under the codename "Seven," I nursed Dante Moretti, the Don of Chicago, back to health in a safe house. I was the one who held him in the dark.
But Isabella stole my name, my credit, and the man I loved.
Now, Dante looked at me with nothing but cold disgust, believing her lies.
When a neon sign crashed down on the street, Dante used his body to shield Isabella, leaving me to be crushed under twisted steel.
While Isabella sat in a VIP suite crying over a scratch, I lay broken, listening to my parents discuss if my kidneys were still viable for harvest.
The final straw came at their engagement gala. When Dante saw me wearing the lava stone bracelet I had worn in the safe house, he accused me of stealing it from Isabella.
He ordered my father to punish me.
I took fifty lashes to my back while Dante covered Isabella's eyes, protecting her from the ugly truth.
That night, the love in my heart finally died.
On the morning of their wedding, I handed Dante a gift box containing a cassette tape-the only proof that I was Seven.
Then, I signed the papers disowning my family, threw my phone out the car window, and boarded a one-way flight to Sydney.
By the time Dante listens to that tape and realizes he married a monster, I will be thousands of miles away, never to return. From Frozen Betrayal To Fierce Love
Modern The first sign I was going to die wasn't the blizzard. It wasn't the bone-deep cold. It was the look in my fiancé's eyes when he told me he had given my life's work-our only guarantee of survival-to another woman.
"Kelsi was freezing," he said, as if I were being unreasonable. "You're the expert, you can handle it."
He then took my satellite phone, shoved me into a hastily dug snow pit, and left me to die.
His new girlfriend, Kelsi, appeared, wrapped snugly in my shimmering smart blanket. She smiled as she used my own ice axe to slash my suit, my last layer of protection against the storm.
"Stop being so dramatic," he told me, his voice full of contempt as I lay there freezing to death.
They thought they had taken everything. They thought they had won.
But they didn't know about the secret emergency beacon I had stitched into my sleeve. And with my last ounce of strength, I activated it. The Billionaire's Most Painful Regret
Mafia I was the wife of the De Luca crime family's Underboss, a beautiful statue whose only purpose was to produce an heir. But after five years, my body had failed.
The day my husband, Alessandro, told me I was barren, he also introduced me to my replacement. He called her a "vessel," a temporary arrangement, but I saw the infatuation in his eyes.
He promised it was just business, but soon he was calling me a "cold statue" behind my back while spending every night with her. The ultimate humiliation came at my birthday party. When a champagne fountain shattered and sliced my arm open, he ignored me bleeding on the floor to shield her instead.
In front of his entire family, the Underboss chose his mistress over his wife.
He left me there, my honor shattered as completely as the glass. I was no longer just a failed wife. I was an obstacle. And in our world, obstacles are removed.
But my arrogant husband didn't know his own father had a contingency plan to protect me. While he was distracted by his mistress's fake pregnancy, he unknowingly signed our divorce papers. My disappearance was no longer an escape; it was the start of my revenge. My Cheating Ex's Ultimatum Backfired
Romance For years, I was the perfect girlfriend, funding my boyfriend Carlton' s startup with my own money. My role was simple: be supportive, unseen, and unheard while his childhood friend, Brande, claimed the space by his side that should have been mine.
On the way to a tech conference that could make his career, I saw the brutal truth I' d been denying. There, on Brande' s neck, was a fresh, dark hickey.
She was curled up in his lap, her hand on his thigh, and he stroked her hair as if it were the most natural thing in the world. When I finally reacted, he called me harsh and told me to be the bigger person.
Later, when I wore a dress he deemed "too much," he gave me an ultimatum.
"If you walk out that door in that dress, we're done."
My love, my money, my support-it was all just fuel for his ambition and their affair. I was a fool. A well-funded, supportive fool.
But as I sat in the back, pushed into a corner, my shoulder bumped against his step-brother, the cold, powerful investor Harvey Hurst. And fueled by a reckless wave of defiance, I didn't pull away. Instead, I leaned into him, and for the first time in a long time, I made a decision that was all my own. Reborn From Their Cold Betrayal
Romance The marriage contract that would merge our two corporate empires was laid out before me. I was supposed to sign my life away to Jace Robertson, the man I had loved since we were kids.
But my love had been burned away the night the chandelier fell. When it came crashing down, my fiancé didn't pull me to safety. He shoved me aside to shield my cousin, Cassidy, with his own body.
He chose her. Instinctively.
My own mother rushed to her side, later telling me I needed to be more understanding. "Cassidy has always been delicate, Ellie. Jace did the right thing."
It was then I remembered everything. In my last life, I died alone in a cold hospital room from a cancer they found too late. Jace was on a romantic trip to the Amalfi Coast with Cassidy. My mother was at a charity luncheon.
My last thought was a regret so deep it could tear a hole in the universe. I had wasted my one precious life on people who saw me as nothing more than a stepping stone.
But now, I was back. The pen was in my hand, the contract on the table. Jace wanted Cassidy. My mother adored her. Fine. Let them have each other.
With a steady hand, I drew a single, clean line through my name on the signature line and wrote in a new one: CASSIDY COLEMAN.
This time, I would live for myself. A Wife's Vengeful Return
Modern My fiancé, Daniel, wasn' t just late for our fifth anniversary; his assistant, Sophie, informed me he sent his apologies from a client dinner. I stood in our "Dream Home," a monument to our shared ambitions, feeling an icy premonition.
Then, Daniel burst in, a raging storm, accusing me. "What did you do, Olivia?" he snarled. Sophie–his new assistant–was in the hospital, suffering a panic attack, claiming I' d threatened her. His eyes, once full of love, now burned with cold rage fueled by her lies.
He seized a glass vase, shattering it against the wall, its splintering echoing my collapsing world. Pinning me against the fireplace, he threatened to destroy my career, to blackball me if I ever went near Sophie again. Later, Sophie herself arrived, dripping fake sympathy and flaunting a new cashmere sweater Daniel had bought her. She spoke of Daniel' s concern, but her words were exquisitely crafted barbs.
I was left stunned, struggling to grasp the sudden, brutal betrayal. How could Daniel, the man who' d promised to build worlds with me, believe such blatant lies and turn on me so viciously? It felt impossible, yet here I was, trapped in a nightmare.
Days later, finding a tiny stray kitten, Ash, brought a sliver of peace. But it was fleeting. Sophie soon appeared, hysterical, accusing me of poisoning her prize-winning Persian cat. She produced a scrap of my silk scarf, clutched in its paw, as "proof." This time, I refused to be his villain. I vowed to expose her. A Quiet Man's Vengeance
Modern My mother-in-law, Martha, was a human storm cloud, always hovering, always raining contempt on my life as a writer.
When she and my father-in-law arrived for an "extended visit" for her "medical tests," the already thick air in our suburban home became suffocating.
Her sharp voice, accusing me of getting lost and being "not a real man," was a familiar prick, but when she scoffed at my profession and questioned my ability to provide, I felt the familiar burn of frustration turn into a deep, internal ache.
My wife, Olivia, usually my shield, tried to protect me, arguing with her mother, claiming Martha's alleged brain tumor made her unpredictable.
But then, a chilling comment slipped from Martha' s lips: she asked Olivia why she hadn't called from Miami, not New York, where her business trip was supposed to be.
Olivia quickly dismissed it as her mother' s confusion, but a sliver of doubt, sharp and cold, lodged itself in my mind.
This wasn' t just Martha' s cruelty; something darker, more insidious was at play, shaking the very foundation of my trust.
Later, my seemingly harmless neighbor, Mark, offered cryptic warnings about "protecting the throne" and people "sneaking in the back door."
His knowing smirk, coupled with Martha's strange slip, began to twist my unease into a sickening suspicion.
I had to know. I had to know if the quiet life I' d built, the love I cherished, was nothing more than a carefully constructed lie. Fifteen Years: His Turn To Play
Modern The sleek leather of my 50th-floor office chair felt real, the hum of the AC familiar. I was Andrew Scott, Wall Street rising star, not ex-con '734'.
Then, the intercom buzzed. My assistant, voice tight with panic: "Mr. Scott, it's Ryan Clark...about Jenny...an accident."
A physical blow. The exact same words. Fifteen years in a concrete box, the taste of stale bread, followed by the blinding Hamptons sun, Jenny-my dead wife-laughing with Ryan, their son looking exactly like him. The final memory: a dark New Jersey alley, the smell of garbage and my own blood. It wasn't a nightmare; it was my life, and it ended.
But I wasn't dead.
My heart pounded, not with fear for the woman I loved and our unborn child as it had before, but with a cold, hard rage. They had played their game, and I had lost everything.
Now, it was my turn. And this time, I knew all their moves. The President's Downfall: A Second Chance at Revenge
Romance The cold gurney, the execution chamber ceiling, then a familiar, hateful face: Kevin, my ex-fiancé, the President.
He was there to watch me die, bloodshot eyes, rumpled suit, looking deranged.
Treason, they said. A lie so colossal it had already swallowed my father, my sister, my entire family.
His whispered words were a final, chilling insult: "I found her, you know. Crystal. She was happy. You took her from me. You murdered the woman I loved."
My vision blurred as the lethal cocktail burned, my tongue heavy with the truth I couldn't speak – that I' d saved Crystal, not hidden her for myself.
His face, twisted with a grief entirely his own twisted invention, was the last thing I saw before blackness swallowed me.
Then, a gasp tore from my lungs, and I was bolt upright in my own silk sheets, sunlight streaming into my Georgetown townhouse.
My phone buzzed. Kevin. The date on the screen made my blood run cold: today was the day he was supposed to run off with Crystal Vance.
My "first life" had begun its nosedive on this very day.
This time, it would be different. This time, I knew the enemy. And this time, I would not be merciful. Freedom's Price, Love's Reward
Romance For five years, I was Jessica Blackwood' s executive assistant. My life was a gilded cage, controlled by her tyrannical father, Arthur. My arranged marriage to Liam Walker, his Head of Security, was a cold, unconsummated sham; we were strangers under one roof.
Driven to despair by Arthur' s control over her dreams of motherhood, Jess and I planned the unthinkable: fake our deaths. But the night before my staged "accident," Liam, my stoic husband, showed an unexpected vulnerability, leading to a passionate connection that upended everything.
I faked my death and began our "free" life in Aspen with Jess. Then, a shock: we were both pregnant-Liam' s child for me. Our perfect escape now felt too managed, a new, subtle prison. Soon, news broke: Jess was "institutionalized" for a mental breakdown.
Fury and despair consumed me. Arthur had viciously re-trapped Jess, aiming for her unborn child. A gnawing question plagued me: Was Liam part of this new cage? Was our passionate night merely a calculated manipulation? Had our defiance been utterly futile?
Heavily pregnant, I vowed to return and dismantle Arthur' s empire, freeing Jess at any cost. But on my journey, my car was ambushed. The masked man was no stranger. It was Liam, revealing a shattering truth about our past and the true identity of our enemy. They Forged The Shadow
Fantasy I, Aurora, last heir of the Sunstone, stood ready for my Unity Ceremony with Ethan, leader of the Stormriver, a sacred bond prophesied to secure our lands. I believed in our shared duty, even in a slowly blooming love for him.
But at the altar, Ethan publically scorned me, declaring his "true love" for my trusted aide, Sylvie, shattering our alliance and the very foundation of our world.
The Council, dazzled by his reckless display of power and Sylvie' s fabricated innocence, abandoned me and my lineage, allowing Ethan to devastate our Sunstone Valley, extinguishing my peoples' light and our sacred Sun-crystals. Then, as I prepared for my crucial Solar Renewal, he shattered my power core and entombed me alive in a collapsing mountain.
How could the very people I was sworn to protect, including the man I considered my dearest, fall so utterly blind to a manipulative lie, sacrificing everything for a power-hungry charade?
They thought they had buried a guardian, but they merely forged the Shadow. I did not die in that tomb; I was reborn as the formidable Shadow Sovereign, and now, armed with terrifying darkness, I will make every betrayer regret their choices. When Memories Lie
Fantasy Thanksgiving. I was back home in rural Vermont, sifting through our old attic, looking for ornaments.
Then I found it: a Polaroid of a 10-year-old me with a boy named "Cousin Leo," a cousin I’d never heard of, who then vanished from the photo right before my eyes.
My family insisted Leo was real, eagerly anticipating his arrival, but their stories about him were a chaotic mess of contradictions—tall, short, professor, contractor, living everywhere and nowhere. They had no photos, no contact info, nothing tangible. Yet, strange toys appeared, my niece claimed he visited, and an unseen voice called from our empty porch.
Was I losing my mind, or were they all caught in some bizarre, shared delusion? They blamed my childhood memory gaps, conveniently dismissing the chilling inconsistencies only I seemed to see. The warm, familiar holiday turned cold, filled with an unsettling unease.
As their cheerful "memories" curdled into whispers of strange encounters and empty eyes, I realized this wasn't just confusion—something far darker was at play, and I was the only one who could unearth the truth about this phantom cousin. You might like
Jilted Girlfriend? I Am The Tycoon's Wife
Dolores Cara Lewis sat quietly as her boyfriend of three years pushed a plate of dessert across the table, wearing a rehearsed mask of sorrow.
He claimed he had to break up with her for her own good, blaming his lack of connections on Wall Street and insisting he couldn't give her the life she deserved.
He acted like a martyr making a tragic sacrifice, waiting for her desperate tears and trembling denial.
Instead, Cara calmly pulled out a stack of glossy photos and an elegant engagement invitation.
She exposed his secret affair with the wealthy Hailie Lewis, completely dismantling his hypocritical social climb.
Leaving the cheating narcissist pale and humiliated, Cara paid the bill and walked out, thinking the trash had finally been taken out.
But her newly single evening took a chaotic turn when a teenage gaming partner called in a panic.
He begged her to crash his elite prep school and pose as his aunt to save him from expulsion.
Cara agreed, flawlessly playing the role of the secret new wife to his uncle, a notoriously ruthless Wall Street titan.
She was thoroughly dominating the snobby school board when the office doors suddenly swung open.
The real billionaire uncle, Beck Greer, walked into the room.
Cara's heart dropped into her stomach as his glacial eyes locked onto her, knowing her social existence in New York was about to end.
Caught in a terrifying, inescapable lie, Cara made an insane calculation.
She stepped forward, firmly hooked her arm through the billionaire's, and smiled sweetly.
"Honey, what took you so long? Julian and I were being bullied."
She waited for the executioner's axe to fall, but the untouchable tycoon simply covered her hand with his and played along. Jilted Ex-Wife? The Secret Billionaire Heiress!
Hei Baidong I was in the hospital, enduring the agonizing pain of labor, while my husband, a famous hockey captain, refused to show up.
When I called him for the twelfth time, begging for him, he lost his patience.
"Giving birth is a woman's job, don't bother me with this stuff."
Then, I heard my stepsister's sweet voice offering him a drink, and he immediately softened before hanging up on me.
I gave birth to twins all by myself.
The nurses treated me with cold indifference, and the family in the next bed loudly mocked me as a pathetic "Puck Bunny" who was just an adopted orphan about to be dumped.
They were right. A month ago, my husband had thrown divorce papers at me, demanding I make way because my stepsister was pregnant with his child.
I thought my life was a joke. I was just a discarded prop he married to satisfy his grandfather, a fake daughter my adoptive parents only used to elevate my stepsister.
I was completely alone, ready to sign the papers just to protect my two babies.
But then, the head of the hospital rushed in, transferred me to the top-floor VIP suite, and handed me a DNA test.
It turned out I wasn't an unwanted orphan, but the long-lost daughter of the ultra-wealthy Sinclair family who had been searching for me for twenty years.
Looking at my billionaire parents and three powerful brothers who just flew in on their private jets to protect me, I picked up my phone to call my arrogant husband.
This time, I was going to make him leave with nothing. His Unwanted Wife Is A Genius Director
UsagiChan77 For ten years, Kinsley played the perfect, invisible wife to billionaire Christian Decker.
She lived on a meager allowance, secretly pouring her heart into earning first place for a prestigious Hollywood directing fellowship.
But on the day her gold-stamped acceptance letter arrived, she stood outside his study and heard him give her hard-earned spot to Blair, his live-in mistress.
Christian casually dismissed Kinsley's months of grueling work, claiming a mere housewife didn't need industry resources.
He threw an unlimited black credit card on the desk, telling her to go buy some jewelry and stop throwing a tantrum.
That same night, he paraded Blair at a Wall Street gala wearing the Decker family's heirloom sapphire, letting Manhattan's elite look at Kinsley with pity and mockery.
When Blair boldly moved into their master bedroom, Christian fiercely defended the mistress, warning Kinsley not to cause a scene over nothing.
Ten years of quiet devotion were trampled for a fake heiress's vanity. Kinsley looked at the man she had loved, her heart turning completely to ash.
She finally understood that in this massive estate, there was never any room for her.
She took off her platinum wedding ring, left all his luxury gifts behind, and walked out of the mansion empty-handed.
Then, she calmly dialed a private number to her production team.
"Scrap the fellowship transition. I'm taking the director's chair directly."
She was going to make Blair audition for her on a global live stream, and let Christian watch his precious investment burn. The Hockey Prince's Secret Ice Queen
Lila All I wanted was to find a computer genius to process the non-linear dynamic equations for my ecological model.
Instead, I found myself cornered by Julian Andrews, the university's hockey prince, trading a public, staged kiss for his academic support.
To finalize our "deal," I was dragged to the campus ice rink.
The cheerleaders and puck bunnies immediately swarmed him, mocking my plain clothes and treating me like a pathetic joke.
Brooke, the head cheerleader, even set up a figure skating competition with a date with Julian as the grand prize.
She performed a basic spin, blew him a kiss, and smugly waited for me to fall flat on my face and humiliate myself.
His hockey teammates laughed from the sidelines, watching me try to support Julian as he stumbled around the ice like a newborn giraffe.
But as I held his warm hand to keep him from falling, I couldn't help but feel something was terribly wrong.
Why was a top-tier athlete faking such awful balance?
And why did his ice-blue eyes stare at me with such knowing anticipation, as if he already knew about the professional figure skating past I had spent years trying to bury?
"Just let go and skate."
He whispered, slowly releasing my hand.
I took a deep breath, glided to the center of the rink, and landed a flawless double Axel.
As the entire rink fell into a dead, shocked silence, I realized I had just exposed not only my own hidden past, but also the biggest secret of the campus god. 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." Jilted Wife Returns As A Billionaire Heiress
Paula Gardini Chloe had just given birth to twins, lying exhausted in a cramped, bustling hospital ward.
When she called her husband, Julian, he was busy partying with his actress mistress. He coldly hung up on her, having already drafted a brutal divorce agreement that would leave her with a pittance.
Strangers in the next bed loudly mocked her pitiful state, gossiping about how Julian was dumping her. For years, Chloe had erased her own identity to fit into his elite world, only to be thrown away like garbage. She was completely alone, clutching her helpless babies, bracing herself to sign the cruel papers just to survive.
She couldn't understand why her absolute devotion was met with such chilling indifference. Why did she have to suffer this ultimate humiliation while he celebrated with the woman who ruined her life?
But then, a senior doctor noticed a unique mole on her wrist and ran a secret DNA test. The results were staggering: Chloe was the long-lost daughter of the billionaire Beaumont family. With her fiercely protective parents and three powerful brothers suddenly forming an impenetrable fortress around her, Chloe picked up her phone and texted her arrogant husband.
"City Hall tomorrow at 10 AM. If you don't show up, my lawyer will handle everything. And trust me, you won't like their terms." THREE-YEARS CONTRACT MARRIAGE WITH THE HOT BILLIONAIRE
Ashley Ray "Sign the contract, or lose everything."
I stared at the papers that would seal my fate-a three-year marriage to Julian Blackwood, the ruthless billionaire they call the Ice King.
My family didn't ask. They demanded. My father's company was drowning, my stepsister's engagement had exploded, and I was the replacement bride they could sacrifice. Just another transaction.
Julian made it clear on our wedding day: "Don't expect affection. Don't expect companionship. Certainly don't expect love."
He refused to kiss me at the altar. He gave me a bedroom down the hall and told me to stay out of his way. I was Mrs. Blackwood in name only-a contract, a convenience, a means to an end.
I accepted it. I had survived twelve years of abuse in my own home. I could survive three years of indifference in his.
But then Nate, Julian's best friend, showed me kindness, and suddenly my cold husband became possessive. When my sister attacked me, he became protective.
Now the man who promised me nothing is fighting his own father to keep me. The marriage that was supposed to be fake is becoming terrifyingly real and the secrets about my mother's death are threatening to destroy everything.
They said Julian Blackwood destroys everything he touches. What they didn't tell me... is that sometimes destruction is exactly what you need to be reborn.
With a pregnancy involved, how was I going to end this three-year marriage peacefully?
Woke Up In The Captain's Bed
Luoye Fenfei I was just an underpaid junior designer trying to survive the ruthless world of professional hockey.
But after catching my boyfriend with his hands up my best friend's designer skirt in a filthy alley, I got blackout drunk and stumbled into the wrong armored SUV.
I woke up pinned beneath Kurt Duran—the terrifying, untouchable captain of the New York franchise and the absolute ruler of the sports empire that paid my salary.
Terrified of being branded a desperate gold-digger, I ran. I swallowed a Plan B pill, dumped my cheating ex, and worked myself to the bone to earn the prestigious Milan Design Summit nomination.
But my jealous coworkers couldn't stand a nobody winning. They hacked my terminal and planted stolen competitor files on my workstation, framing me for federal corporate espionage.
My director suspended me on the spot. Security guards began sweeping my life's work into a plastic evidence bin, while my colleagues sneered that I was heading straight to a federal penitentiary.
I clenched my bleeding palms, suffocating under the sheer injustice. I had survived poverty, a cheating ex, and grueling sleepless nights just to prove my worth. Why was my entire career being destroyed over a manufactured lie?
"Hand over your badge and your digital keys," my director barked.
I refused to shed a single tear for those hyenas.
Suddenly, the frosted glass doors were kicked open with a thunderous crash.
Kurt Duran strode into the room flanked by five elite litigation partners, his murderous blue eyes locked directly on me, ready to burn the entire building to the ground. Flash Marriage To The Billionaire Hockey Star
Shi Yue Since my foster father passed away, my foster mother Carlene treated me like a burden she couldn't wait to discard.
Fearing I would cling to her biological son-a rising NHL rookie coming home next week-she forced me into a blind date with a sleazy, arrogant finance bro to get rid of me.
When he mocked my career and treated me like a cheap toy, I threw a glass of ice water in his face.
He violently grabbed my wrist in the restaurant hallway, his fingers digging into my bones.
Carlene didn't lift a finger to help. Instead, she glared at me.
"Apologize to him right now, or I will throw your bags onto the street tomorrow morning!"
After ten years of walking on eggshells in her house, my heart turned completely cold. I had no money, nowhere to go, and realized she would gladly watch me be destroyed just to keep her family pristine.
Driven by pure survival instinct, I lunged at a tall stranger walking out of the VIP lounge and desperately claimed he was my boyfriend.
I didn't expect him to be Knox Leonard, the billionaire head of Apex Capital and Boston's most untouchable NHL star.
And I certainly didn't expect him to wrap his arm around my waist, terrify my abusers, and offer me a two-million-dollar marriage contract. 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. 
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