Youran Qianwu
13 Published Stories
Youran Qianwu's Books and Stories
Seducing My Ex's Ruthless Billionaire Uncle
Modern My family's company went bankrupt, and my biological father was lying in the ICU, kept alive by machines that cost tens of thousands a day.
I thought it was just a tragic business failure, until I caught my mother in bed with my stepfather.
They had secretly transferred all our assets months ago, deliberately bankrupting the company and leaving my father to die.
To pay the hospital bills, my stepfather forced me to a private club, trying to sell me to a sleazy investor.
When I refused, he slapped me across the face, and my mother just looked at me with cold, dead eyes.
"Be realistic, Jaelynn. A woman's body is a tool. Use it to get what you need."
Later, right before my father's emergency surgery, my stepfather signed a Do Not Resuscitate order and froze the medical accounts.
"If you don't get on your knees and spread your legs for him, I will tell the hospital to pull your father's plug."
Standing in the freezing rain, covered in mud and blood, I stared at the astronomical hospital bill in my hand.
My own family had plotted to murder my father and sell me to the highest bidder. The betrayal shattered every ounce of sanity I had left.
I didn't cry or beg them anymore.
Instead, I pulled out a water-stained, gold-embossed business card.
It belonged to Dolph Valentine, the most ruthless billionaire in New York and my ex-fiancé's uncle.
If they wanted to destroy my life, I was going to sell my soul to the biggest monster of them all and drag them straight to hell. The Betrayed Wife's Ruthless Comeback
Billionaires My billionaire husband, Cooper, was thirty minutes late to my father's funeral.
When the heavy cathedral doors finally opened, he wasn't there to comfort me. He was tightly shielding his mistress, Celeste, under his umbrella, treating her like a fragile lily while I stood alone in my black mourning dress.
The whispers in the pews were deafening, but they were nothing compared to the truth I soon uncovered.
Cooper hadn't just humiliated me—he had secretly taken my father's life-saving spot in a medical clinical trial and given it to Celeste's family. My father died gasping for air because of him.
Days later, while I was shivering in the ER with a 103-degree fever, I saw Cooper sneaking into the VIP maternity ward. He was holding Celeste, his face glowing with the ecstatic joy of a man about to become a father.
For three years, I swallowed my pride to be his perfect, obedient wife, only to let his elite friends openly mock me to my face.
"You were just keeping the seat warm until the real queen came back."
He let my father die, hid all our marital assets in offshore trusts, and made me take birth control every single morning, claiming he wasn't ready for kids.
I didn't scream, and I didn't let him see me break.
Instead, I hired Manhattan's most ruthless divorce lawyer, smiled sweetly as I handed Cooper his coat at home, and began secretly gathering the evidence to burn his entire empire to the ground.
Flash Marriage To The Hidden Billionaire
Billionaires My abusive step-family isolated me completely, holding my mother's medical funds hostage to control my every move.
Yesterday, they finalized my sale.
"You will marry Rudy Petrov next month. He is fifty, wealthy, and willing to overlook your lack of pedigree."
Pushed to the absolute edge, I did the insane. I posted an ad online offering my life savings of $50,000 for a contract husband. A stranger named Brennan agreed.
But my family wouldn't let me go. They forced me back for a dinner by threatening my mother's life-saving prescriptions.
At the table, they relentlessly mocked my new "poor IT guy" husband and intentionally burned my hand with boiling tea.
Worse, the housekeeper locked me in a guest room and forced drugs down my throat so Rudy could come in and assault me.
I lay there paralyzed on the floor, bleeding from Rudy's slap, utterly terrified. I couldn't understand why my own family would throw me to the wolves, and I felt a crushing guilt for dragging an innocent, ordinary guy into my nightmare.
Until a pitch-black Maybach smashed through the estate's wrought-iron gates at eighty miles an hour.
My "poor" husband kicked the solid oak doors off their hinges, beat Rudy half to death, and carried me out into the rain.
I didn't know it yet, but the ordinary man I hired to save me was a ruthless billionaire, and he was about to erase my family's entire empire by morning. Reborn Heiress: The Tyrant's Secret Obsession
Fantasy Bryn hovered as a translucent soul over her own fresh grave, just three days after she was buried.
She had been shoved off a cliff by Keifer, the boyfriend she provided for, while her adopted sister Fabiola watched and laughed.
Now, they stood at her grave crying fake tears, ready to steal her massive inheritance.
Suddenly, Dominic Hutchinson, the arrogant school tyrant who made her life a living hell, arrived.
He didn't come to mock her. He dug up her grave with his bare, bleeding hands, hugging her freezing urn as he sobbed in pure despair.
He ruthlessly exposed Keifer and Fabiola's murder plot, sending them to federal prison.
Three months later, Dominic stood before her rebuilt headstone in a pristine white tuxedo.
"It's finally over. I can finally come pick you up."
He pulled out a silver scalpel and slit his own wrist, leaving a bloody kiss above her carved name as he died.
Bryn fell to her knees, screaming and sobbing uncontrollably.
The boy she thought hated her had loved her with his entire life, while the parasites she trusted had killed her.
Why had she been so utterly blind?
A blinding light swallowed her soul, and Bryn suddenly snapped her eyes open.
She was standing by her high school lockers, completely alive.
She had returned to exactly three years before her death. Claimed By The Coldhearted Sterling Heir
Modern I was kneeling on the warped linoleum of my trailer, packing my life into a trash bag, when the predatory purr of a luxury SUV echoed through the thin walls. I thought it was a raid, but it was something much worse.
Julian Sterling, a federal prosecutor in a charcoal suit, stepped into the mud and bought me from my alcoholic stepfather. He didn't use cash; he used a list of felonies and a legal settlement to trade my freedom for my stepfather's silence.
"Throw it away," Julian ordered, pointing at the bag containing everything I owned. I watched my sister's stuffed bear fall into an oil puddle as he forced me into a world of cold leather and silence. By the time we reached Boston, Faith Vance was dead. He forced me to sign papers changing my name to Elara, erasing my past to fit a narrative of Swiss boarding schools and high-society breeding.
The horror didn't stop there. The family patriarch, Arthur Sterling, looked at us with hawk-like eyes and issued a command that turned my blood to ice. To avoid scandal, Julian and I were to be introduced as "Brother" and "Sister." Julian's jaw tightened until a vein throbbed in his temple, and when he finally called me "Sister," the word sounded like a curse.
I was a prisoner in a mansion with bars on the windows, caught between a "brother" who loathed my existence and a cousin who tried to assault me in my own room. They dressed me in silk armor and expected me to be a doll, a manageable piece of a legacy I never asked for.
I sat at a dinner table worth more than my hometown, swallowing oysters that tasted like salt and iodine, while Julian created a physical barrier between me and the wolves. Under the tablecloth, I reached out and squeezed his clenched fist.
His fingers uncurled and captured mine in a grip so crushing it felt like a pact signed in the dark. I have a jagged shard of glass in my pocket and five thousand dollars a month to hoard. Julian says the law is a weapon that breaks weak people, but he's about to find out that I'm not a lamb. I'm a survivor, and I'm ready for the casualties. My Destiny Found in Betrayal's Wake
Modern On my 24th birthday, my boyfriend of five years, Jackson, threw me a surprise party.
The surprise was his wedding to another woman, Campbell. He claimed she was dying of cancer.
In front of everyone, he denied our entire relationship, calling me his "little sister."
When I confronted him, his violent shove caused me to lose our unborn child.
I lost my love, my baby, and my job, all for a lie. Because Campbell wasn't dying. Her cancer was fake.
But as they tried to destroy me, a powerful man named Cole Smith stepped in.
At a charity gala, with his help, I played the security footage for the entire room to see-the footage of him pushing me, of me bleeding on the office floor.
I held up the proof of her fake illness.
"There's your truth, Jackson," I said, as his world came crashing down. The Hidden Heiress's Campus Betrayal
Modern To escape the tragic legacy of my famous mother, I hid my identity, becoming a plain, forgettable film student. I fell hard for Hayes McCall, the campus playboy, believing our love was real.
But he was just using me. I was a human shield, a decoy to protect the real object of his affection: the fragile campus "it-girl," Karmen.
He let me get bullied and kidnapped. He stole my thesis film-a tribute to my mother's memory-and gave it to Karmen to claim as her own. When I tried to fight back, he destroyed my work, my past, everything.
At graduation, my ex-roommate projected a video to the entire auditorium, branding me a high-class escort who slept with powerful men.
"She's a disgrace!" she screamed, as the crowd turned on me.
I calmly walked to the podium, my voice cutting through the noise. "You're accusing a Zamora of being a gold-digger?"
I let the name hang in the air before delivering the final blow. "I don't climb the ladder. I am the ladder." His Other Woman, My New Life
Romance This Valentine's Day, I finally convinced my boyfriend of ten years, Ethan Hayes, to take me to that trendy new restaurant, the one with a six-month waitlist. It was our tenth anniversary, a big deal, and I thought maybe, just maybe, this time would be different.
We had just sat down when his phone rang. It was Ashley Cooper. I heard Ethan say, "Don't be silly, you're more understanding than her. I'll be right back." He walked out and never returned.
I sat there alone until the restaurant closed. He sent a text later: "Ashley isn't feeling well. I need to get her home safely. Take a cab home. Text me when you get there." I saw Ashley's social media post with pictures of them, new and old, captioned, "Never learned to grow up, but thankfully, there's always someone to tolerate my whims."
Later, back at our apartment, I saw two figures getting into the elevator with Ethan. It had to be Ashley. He texted, "I'm tired. I don't want to fight tonight."
I felt a crushing weight. After college, I had turned down a fantastic job offer to follow Ethan, giving up my dreams for his. I lost touch with most of my old friends. Now, I truly had nowhere to go.
I had spent ten years waiting for him, helping him build his life and his business. I had been "understanding" and "obedient," always putting his needs first, only to be compared to Ashley, the woman he truly desired. Why did I sacrifice everything for him?
That night, I picked up my phone and sent him two texts: "I don't want to be understanding anymore. Ethan, we're over." It was time to find out who Chloe Miller was without him. His Toxic Legacy, Her Triumph
Modern I poured my heart and soul into Momentum Marketing, the agency my fiancé Mark and I had built.
My loyalty to him ran deep, a bond forged over years.
Then, Mark dropped a bomb: he slashed my salary by more than half, citing financial crisis.
Days later, his chirpy executive assistant, Chloe, plastered Instagram with her brand-new Tesla, a "surprise bonus!" from the "best boss ever."
My accidental "like" on her post triggered his rage.
He publicly humiliated me, then docked my entire reduced monthly salary, gifting it to Chloe for "emotional distress."
Utterly betrayed, I resigned, only for him to cold-bloodedly refuse severance.
But his cruelty wasn't finished.
After I left our condo, he lured me back under false pretenses, filming me to construct a malicious lawsuit, accusing me of corporate espionage.
My name, my career, everything was smeared, a calculated ruin.
They thought they' d finally destroy me in court.
Instead, with undeniable evidence, my lawyer exposed their vile conspiracy, including Chloe's fake pregnancy.
The truth exploded, leading to Mark's public breakdown and ultimate suicide.
His will left me everything, a final, twisted apology.
Now, I'm forging a new empire from the ashes, turning his toxic legacy into my own triumph. The Unwanted Supply
Horror Returning to my Chicago office after maternity leave, I craved the familiar rhythm of marketing and the comfort of normalcy.
But on my very first day back, a strange woman from accounting, Brenda, confronted me with a bizarre, unsettling demand.
Convinced my breast milk was the miraculous cure for her 19-year-old developmentally disabled son, Kevin, she insisted I provide it, "directly and on demand."
My polite refusal ignited a terrifying, obsessive campaign of harassment.
Brenda's actions escalated from chilling threats to physical confrontations, culminating in a horrifying ambush in the company lactation room.
She deliberately tore my clothes, began filming, and shamelessly urged her large son to assault me for my milk.
Even after this grotesque attack, HR downplayed it as a mere "workplace dispute," paralyzed by Brenda's expert manipulation of Kevin's disability and her theatrical victimhood.
Police, overwhelmed by her counter-accusations and her son' s condition, offered no arrests, only warnings.
I was left reeling, violated, and utterly betrayed by a system designed to protect employees.
Brenda's smug victory, coupled with subtle, continued threats, pushed me to the brink.
How could I be safe when my workplace allowed such depravity, bending to one woman' s deranged obsession?
With official help impossible and my personal safety compromised, I realized I had to fight back on my own terms.
My retired Marine Sergeant father and powerful football-player nephew became my unexpected allies.
Brenda had declared war; I decided it was time to find my own weapons. From Humble Wife to Hamilton Queen
Billionaires For seven years, I was Sarah Miller, the humble wife, playing along with my billionaire father's "test" to ensure my husband, David, valued me for himself, not my immense inheritance.
Our Napa getaway was canceled for David's "urgent business trip," but a casual Instagram scroll shattered my world: a lavish party at my house, featuring my husband intimately with our housekeeper's daughter, Brittany, who flaunted my deceased grandmother's priceless Hamilton family heirloom bracelet.
I returned home to find my house overrun, confronting David by the pool, his lips still on Brittany's.
My slap silenced the crowd, but they quickly turned on me, throwing drinks and ripping my clothes, while David stood by, impassive, telling me, "Sarah, you're embarrassing yourself. Get out."
The ultimate betrayal wasn't just his infidelity but his cold complicity; my husband, in my house, letting his mistress and her friends assault and humiliate me, all while my family's legacy mocked me from Brittany's wrist.
Every insult fueled a cold, quiet fury.
They had no idea who they were dealing with. I pulled out my phone and dialed 911, reporting trespass, assault, and the theft of a priceless heirloom.
As David, still arrogant, handed me divorce papers, I made one last call: "Mike, it's Sarah. I need you. Code Hamilton." The Unseen Hand: Matriarch of the Montgomery Legacy
Billionaires I'm Evelyn Montgomery, the quiet apprentice in my family's art restoration studio.
But I also secretly wield unchecked power as the sole trustee of the Montgomery Heritage Fund.
My grandmother taught me to let them underestimate me; it's their first mistake.
When Ashley Jenkins, a social climber obsessed with my grandnephew Connor, conspicuously excluded me from the gala committee, I simply smiled.
Her sweet message about "curating" truly dedicated members was a clear jab.
Then her casual cruelty turned vicious.
She kicked my beloved Norwegian Forest cat, Duke, then brutally killed him.
Her next move?
Pepper-spraying me and literally shoving me into a filthy dog cage, firmly convinced I was a nobody.
The physical pain burned, but the humiliation was a colder fire.
I was left there, heartbroken and raw, my voice hoarse from crying and the acrid fumes.
She had no idea the 'charity case' she'd tormented secretly controlled her entire future.
My quiet fury solidified into an unshakeable resolve.
As Ashley, cornered, invented a fake pregnancy and tried to snatch my family’s symbolic ring, thinking she’d won, a new voice cut through the chaos.
"I believe that leadership is already well established."
Ethan Sterling, head of the powerful Sterling family and my secret fiancé, stepped into view.
He didn't just reveal our engagement; he unmasked me as the silent architect behind our family's greatest successes and his immense influence.
Ashley's world, and everyone who stood by her in their casual dismissal, was about to crumble. You might like
Married To My Ex-Fiancé's Silent Uncle
Ming Yue Twenty minutes before the "Wedding of the Century" at The Plaza, I stood outside the Presidential Suite in a fifty-thousand-dollar Vera Wang gown. I was the girl from a West Virginia trailer park about to marry Hugh Maxwell, the golden heir to a billion-dollar defense empire.
I pushed the door open only to find Hugh pinned against the bed with my own stepsister, Floy. She was wearing my bridal diamond necklace, and the sounds of their laughter scraped against my eardrums like sandpaper.
I didn't scream; I listened as Hugh grunted that once the wedding was over and the trust fund unlocked, he'd dump "that hillbilly trash" on a bus back to the mountains. They weren't just cheating; they were planning to steal my family's land deeds and leave me with nothing. When I set off the sprinklers and exposed their naked bodies to the paparazzi, the Maxwell family didn't apologize. They called me a "greedy peasant" and threatened to ruin my life unless I signed a new deal to save their crashing stock.
I realized then that I was never a bride to them. I was a transaction, a rounding error in a ledger to be used and discarded. They thought my poverty made me weak and my silence made me a victim.
"If we don't have a marriage certificate by midnight, the bank freezes thirty percent of our liquidity," their lawyer warned.
So, I gave them exactly what they wanted. I used a loophole in their hundred-year-old family covenant and married the only other direct heir available. I didn't marry Hugh. I walked into the ICU and married his uncle, Fleet Maxwell-the legendary war hero who had been in a vegetative state for months.
Now, I am the matriarch of the Maxwell dynasty. I've suspended Hugh's executive powers, exiled my mother-in-law to the Swiss Alps, and taken control of the family vault. They think I'm just a gold-digger waiting for a "corpse" to die so I can collect a fifty-million-dollar widow's payout.
But last night, as I lay beside my comatose husband, the man they called a vegetable gripped my hand back. The Unwanted Wife Is A Zillionaire
Reilly Mcardle For seven years, I played the perfect, hidden wife to billionaire August Chambers while working quietly as an ER nurse.
Three days before our marriage contract expired, he stormed into my emergency room carrying a bleeding woman. It was Allena, his cousin's fiancée.
She had suffered a ruptured corpus luteum from their violent, aggressive sex. Instead of hiding his affair, August ordered me to clear the floor and threw a massive check at my face to buy my silence. Later, his friends trapped me in a VIP club. When a waiter tripped, August violently shoved me aside just to protect Allena from a spilled cup of coffee. I crashed into a glass table, a sharp edge slicing deep into my arm.
"Apologize to her, and I'll have my driver take you to the hospital."
As my blood soaked into the white rug, he stood over me, demanding I get on my knees for his mistress. He didn't know I had faked a miscarriage five years ago to secretly raise our daughter far away from his cruelty. He also didn't know the money he flaunted was pocket change compared to my hidden AI tech empire.
I calmly tied a tourniquet around my bleeding arm with my teeth and wiped my blood directly over his heart onto his custom suit.
"I'm done with you."
The submissive nurse was dead, and it was time to let him burn in the ruins of his own lies. Flash Marriage to the Tycoon, I'm Spoiled Rotten
Hollow Echo Cast out by an "elite" family and mocked by high society, Elena shocked everyone by marrying the most powerful man in town.
They assumed it was a temporary arrangement-after all, he had said, "The agreement is for two years. After that, we're done."
Yet after the wedding, he refused to let her go. "Elena, you can't leave me."
As he doted on her, rumors shattered one by one. A renowned painter, top hacker, and tech mastermind-her true identities stunned the world.
When a luxury empire announced their lost heiress, all eyes turned to her. "Why did she look exactly like Elena?" Abandoned Ex-Wife: Now Untouchable
Tao Yaoyao My five-year-old daughter was dying in the ICU, her heartbeat replaced by the continuous, electronic scream of a flatline. I gripped her cold hand, my throat sealed shut by a terror so absolute I couldn't even cry out.
I dialed my husband Grayson's private number, the one reserved only for me and his assistants. He declined the call instantly. A second later, a text buzzed against my palm:
"In a meeting. Do not disturb. Stop calling."
Five miles away, Grayson was at a luxury gala, adjusting his silk tie and laughing with Belle Escobar. He told her I was just being "dramatic" and using our daughter's "fever" as an excuse to avoid the event. He had no idea Effie's heart had already stopped.
When I finally reached our penthouse, soaked from the rain and carrying Effie's small socks in a plastic bag, Grayson didn't even look at me. He snapped at me for ruining the hardwood floors and asked if I'd left Effie with the nanny just to "feel sorry for myself."
Three days later, while I buried our daughter in a small, lonely ceremony, Grayson was at the Hamptons. Belle posted a photo of him golfing with the caption: "A mental health day with the boys." He didn't even attend the funeral, but he returned home demanding I clear out Effie's room to make a study for Belle's son.
The injustice burned through me until there was nothing left. I swallowed a handful of sleeping pills, desperate to join my daughter. But instead of the darkness, I woke up to blinding lights and the scent of Grayson's expensive cologne.
I was standing in a ballroom, wearing a blue silk dress I had already burned. Above me, a banner read: "Happy 5th Birthday Kaiden & Effie."
I was back, exactly one year before the tragedy. This time, I wasn't going to be the grieving wife. I was going to be their worst nightmare. Phoenix Rising: The Scarred Heiress's Revenge
Xiao Hong Mao I lived as the "scarred ghost" of the Stephens penthouse, a wife kept in the shadows because my facial burns offended my billionaire husband's aesthetic. For years, I endured Kason's coldness and my family's abuse, a submissive puppet who believed she had nowhere else to go.
The end came with a blue folder tossed onto my silk sheets. Kason's mistress was back, and he wanted me out by sunset, offering a five-million-dollar "silence fee" to go hide my face in the countryside.
The betrayal cut deep when I discovered my father had already traded my divorce for a corporate bailout. My step-sister mocked my "trashy" appearance at a high-end boutique, while the sales staff treated me like a common thief. At home, my father threatened to cut off my mother's life-saving medicine unless I crawled back to Kason to beg for a better deal.
I was the girl who took the blame for a fire she didn't start, the wife who worshipped a man who never looked her in the eye, and the daughter used as a human bargaining chip. I was supposed to be broken, penniless, and desperate.
But the woman who stood up wasn't the weak Elease Finch anymore; she was Phoenix, a tactical predator with a $500 million secret. I signed the divorce papers without a single tear, walked past my stunned husband, and wiped the Finch family's bank accounts clean with a few taps on my phone.
"Your money is dirty," I told Kason with a cold smile. "I prefer clean hands."
The cage is open, the hunt has begun, and I'm starting with the people who thought a scar made me weak. 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!" Phoenix Of Ruin: My Second Life Comes With A Better Man
Maple Breeze Ashley gave Nicolas ten years of love and five years of loyalty as his perfect housewife, only to be repaid with betrayal, humiliation, and death at the hands of him and his mistress.
After being reborn, she vowed to make them pay.
She tore apart the mistress, kicked her useless husband aside, and returned as the heiress of a top-tier family.
Surrounded by billions, luxury, and a parade of elite bachelors, Ashley became the woman everyone wanted-including a cold, powerful tycoon.
When Nicolas came begging for forgiveness, she smiled coldly. "Fuck off! My man is worth a hundred of you." Wild Heiress, Tamed Billionaire
Ruby Stone When I called my husband while trapped in a kidnapper's warehouse, he laughed. "Stop faking," he said, "my delicate mistress needs her sleep." He hung up. I signed the divorce papers drenched in my own blood, giving up everything just to escape the monster I married.
His mother threw a broken umbrella at me in the rain. I had nothing-no money, no identity, no hope.
But the moment I turned away, eight black Escalades encircled the street. A man in a tailored suit stepped out of a Rolls-Royce, shielding me with an umbrella. In his hand was a DNA test-and twenty-three years of relentless search.
"Your last name isn't Smith," he said, wiping blood from my wrist with his handkerchief. "It's Wilder. The Wilder family. And the man who left you to die?" He smiled, icy. "He owes us nine billion dollars." 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." Untouchable After Goodbye: She Had A Secret Empire
Mira Westfield "Let's get a divorce. She's pregnant and deserves a place in my life."
He once promised to protect Claire forever, yet when his first love returned, he cast her aside. For three years, Claire dimmed her brilliance, living quietly as the obedient wife behind him.
When he handed her divorce papers to give his pregnant mistress a place, Claire no longer hid her talents.
The woman he had overlooked was a legendary healer, racing prodigy, and a genius designer. After the divorce, she reclaimed her glory.
When he pleaded, "Honey, let's remarry," another man pulled her close. "She's my wife now. As for you... Someone, take him out and give him what he deserves!" 
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