Yuan Xiluo
12 Published Stories
Yuan Xiluo's Books and Stories
From Trash To Treasure: Masked Heiress
Mafia I was the invisible failure of the Goff family, hiding my medical genius behind a report card full of Fs and a slumped posture. One rainy night, I found a man bleeding out in a dark alley behind the school gymnasium, a knife protruding from his gut.
To keep the police from digging into my secrets, I dragged the dying stranger to my bedroom and stitched him up using a hidden surgical kit. I thought I was being careful, but my cousin Cleora caught a glimpse of the blood and immediately alerted my fiancé's wealthy family.
By morning, my world collapsed as my future in-laws stormed the manor, throwing an annulment agreement at my feet. They called me a "loose woman" and "million-dollar trash," while my own housekeeper gleefully testified against me. At school, the word "SLUT" was spray-painted across my locker in jagged red letters, and the boy I was supposed to marry looked at me with nothing but cold revulsion.
I didn't understand why they were so eager to destroy me before even asking for the truth. I was the one who had spent years protecting this family's reputation, yet they were throwing me to the wolves over a single misunderstanding. I felt a surge of cold fury as I realized my loyalty had been met with nothing but betrayal.
Everything changed when the "dying" stranger finally walked down the stairs, shirtless and bandaged, revealing himself as Braylon Lancaster, the most powerful man in the city. He didn't just defend me; he froze my fiancé's entire family fortune with a single phone call.
As my in-laws fled in terror, a courier arrived with a five-carat pink diamond from the head of the city's most dangerous crime syndicate. The note read: "The debt is acknowledged." Suddenly, I wasn't just a failure anymore-I was the most sought-after woman in the underworld. The Billionaire's Disguise: Rising From The Ashes
Modern I spent two years sweating on construction sites, hauling drywall and mixing cement, just to give Brittni the normal life she said she wanted. On our anniversary, I sat in our dark kitchen with a plate of homemade fettuccine and a one-carat diamond ring I’d saved six months of wages for, waiting for her to come home.
Then my phone pinged. An Instagram notification showed Brittni at a luxury rooftop gala, a bottle of Dom Perignon on ice, and a wealthy socialite’s hand resting possessively on her waist. She was wearing the expensive red dress I bought her for her birthday—the one she told me was "too fancy" for our simple dinner dates.
The caption read, "Back with my queen," and Brittni had replied with a single red heart. Minutes later, she texted me: "Stuck at a late-night board meeting, babe. Don't wait up. Love you!" I looked at the cold, congealed pasta and the jagged scar on my ribs from my time in the special forces, realizing the last two years were nothing but a lie built on her pity and my desperate need for normalcy.
I didn't scream or throw my phone. Instead, a strange, predatory calm washed over me—the "Ghost" persona kicking in to shut down the noise of heartbreak and focus on mission parameters. I was done being the "simple builder" who worried about rent while she used me as a placeholder until a "better" man came along.
I walked to the closet, pried up a loose floorboard, and pulled out a gold signet ring bearing the Hubbard family crest—the symbol of the multi-billion-dollar empire I had rejected five years ago. I dropped the modest engagement ring into the trash on top of the wasted pasta and dialed a number I had sworn never to call again.
"It's time, Harve. I'm coming home."
The motorcade was dispatched before I even hung up. As I stepped into a blacked-out Cadillac and watched the $50 million deposit hit my account, I realized how small Brittni’s world truly was. She thought she was trading up for a Rolex and a social media tag, but she was about to find out that the man she just ghosted was the heir to the very empire that owned her future. From Asylum to Empire: Her Sweet Revenge
Modern The scent of lilies still clung to my clothes, a cloying reminder of my daughter Shannon' s tiny casket, yet it was the stench of betrayal that truly choked me. At her graveside, I saw Harlow Faulkner, my closest friend, standing too close to my husband Antonio, her hand possessively on his arm.
Then, Antonio hissed, "Francesca, darling, not now," his smile pasted on for onlookers, but his eyes were ice. He' d brought me breakfast in bed, protected me from critics, built an empire with me. Now, he was a stranger.
My accusation ripped from me: "You left her alone, Harlow! You left my baby alone, and she died!" Harlow whimpered, "It was SIDS, a tragic accident." Antonio roared, "You're making a scene!" He then revealed the nanny cam was "broken," confirming my darkest fear: he knew. He was part of it.
When Antonio' s hand instinctively went to Harlow' s stomach, whispering, "Is the baby alright?" my world shattered. He had a new family. He was erasing Shannon, erasing me.
They sent me to an institution, electroshocked and drugged me, then forced me to sign divorce papers. But as I lay broken, a cold, diamond-sharp resolve hardened within me. He thought he could erase me. I would remember everything. The Echo She Chose To Erase
Modern I was Aegis's top operative, betrayed by my fiancé, Hazen, and the very woman I had rescued and mentored, Bianca.
They conspired against me, framing me as unstable and jealous. Hazen, the man I was supposed to marry, chose to believe her calculated lies over my raw pain, even after he caught them together.
He pushed me, causing a head injury, and then publicly condemned me when I tried to expose Bianca's manipulation. My own partner, my friends, everyone I had saved and fought alongside, turned against me, siding with the "fragile" victim she pretended to be.
Hazen's final betrayal was the coldest. He had me tortured, then left me broken in a cell, all to protect Bianca's fabricated innocence. "You are a liability, Echo," he had said, his eyes devoid of love, "a dangerous, unstable liability."
I was left with nothing, my spirit shattered, my entire life a lie. The accusations, the abandonment, the sheer injustice of it all-it was a poison I couldn't live with.
So I did the only thing I could. I walked into a clandestine clinic and had them erase it all.
Now, I am Evelyn, a quiet bookseller in Vermont. I remember nothing. And today, three years later, a man with haunted eyes just walked into my shop and called me by a name I don't know: "Echo?" Broken Promises, A Vengeful Heart Returns
Modern I was the daughter of the East Coast's most powerful mob boss. For six months, I was blackmailed into being the secret lover and informant for the FBI's golden boy, Kaiden Walter. But just as I fell for him, he announced his engagement to a senator's daughter on national news.
He called our relationship a "political arrangement" and told me I was just collateral to keep my father in line.
His new fiancée then publicly humiliated me, calling me "trash."
I had sacrificed everything for him, even the secret child we might have had, only to be used and discarded like a toy he got tired of. Was I ever anything more than a job to him?
The shame of my public disgrace killed my grandmother. My father, seeing my world destroyed, took his own life to give me a new one. He faked my death, gave me a new identity, and left me a fortune. Anya Chambers was dead, but Anna Russo was just beginning her revenge. From Ashes: The Unwanted Wife's Return
Mafia For five years, I was the wife of Jace Sharpe, the city's untouchable "Golden Boy." I was a loyalty consultant paid ten million dollars to make him fall in love, but I was the one who ended up genuinely falling for him.
Then his old flame, Fallon, reappeared. When I told him I was pregnant with our child, his face became a mask of stone. Fallon smirked from the steps of his private jet.
"The baby has come at the wrong time," he said, his voice as cold as ice. "It must be aborted."
He had his men drag me to a clinic. As the anesthetic took hold, I heard him give a final, cruel order to the doctor: "A hysterectomy. I want to ensure there are no more… inconvenient surprises."
He destroyed my body and our child for another woman. Lying in that sterile room, my love turned to icy hatred. I reached for a burner phone I hadn't touched in years and sent a single message to a mysterious contact. The reply was instant: "I'll pick you up in fifteen days." A Price For Her Ambition
Sci-fi The final line of code glowed emerald on my holographic interface, my AI masterpiece complete. Tomorrow was the launch, the culmination of years, ready to redefine my legacy.
Then, Sarah, my co-founder and the woman who' d been by my side from the start, walked in.
"I''m pulling out," she stated, her voice flat, abandoning our company just hours before launch.
It was for Alex, her struggling protégé, an untalented kid whose AI was built on ethically questionable data.
"You''re throwing all of this away for him?" I asked, a cold dread washing over me, knowing his project was doomed to fail.
"I''ve already built one successful company; I can do it again with Alex," she shot back, adding, "Don''t be so jealous and ruin Alex''s big break! He has potential, real potential, more than you give him credit for."
Just as I opened my mouth to protest, a terrifying news ticker flashed across my smart glasses: BREAKING: Tech mogul' s partner sabotaged; protégé' s AI caused widespread privacy breaches, leading to the mogul' s downfall and public disgrace!
The future, my ruin, flashed before my eyes.
I swallowed my protest. A new, chilling plan formed: I would let them fail, show them exactly what they' d given up.
I leaned back, a calm smile on my face. "Okay. I''ll help you liquidate your shares and join Alex." The Substitute Wife's Revenge
Romance "I' m sorry, Ms. Davies, but there seems to be a problem."
The government clerk's words hit me like a physical blow. Liam and I were so excited, registering our baby' s birth early, making it all feel real.
Then she said it: "Mr. Liam O' Connell is already married. His marriage to a Ms. Sienna Reed was registered six months ago."
My world shattered. Married? To someone else? My cherished marriage certificate was a fake. The man who' d told me he' d searched for me every day during my year-long amnesia, the man who swore he only waited for me, had found a replacement. He had looked me in the eye and lied.
Returning home, I found her clothes in his closet, her bracelet in his jewelry box. Then, I heard his voice, soft and intimate on the phone, telling 'her' I suspected nothing. "She' s just… a substitute. A shadow. She looks like you, that' s all." A wave of nausea washed over me, mixing with the sharp pain of my pregnancy apps notifications.
He said he was off to a crisis in Chicago, but I drove to the luxury condo he' d once mentioned. There, I watched him kiss Sienna, a deep, passionate embrace he hadn't given me in months. This wasn't just cheating; this was a deliberate, long-term deception orchestrated for my family's money. All the while, my baby, our baby, was growing inside me, tainted by his lies. The man I loved saw me as nothing but a means to an end.
My heart breaking, I was left to wonder: how could I have been so blind? What kind of monster had I loved? He Broke My Leg, I Broke His Empire
Mafia The blizzard howled, tearing through my truck, through my bones. My leg, shattered by Ethan's enforcers, throbbed, a familiar pain mirroring the betrayal in my heart.
My phone screen flickered, a cruel final joke, announcing Ethan had just won "Family Values Politician of the Year."
The photo showed him beaming, his arm around Brittany, and a little boy, their adopted son, wearing my Daisy' s bracelet. The one I' d made for her before Ethan sold her to child traffickers.
My life, this wretched string of Ethan' s deceits, flashed before my eyes. I' d sold off my family' s historic ranch, acre by precious acre, to fund his political ambitions, only to be branded "uncivilized" for the calloused hands that built our legacy.
He' d given my only insulated coat to Brittany, called me hysterical for a post-birth hemorrhage while giving my life-saving medicine to Brittany for a "migraine."
Then, the county fair. To pay off a campaign scandal, he' d arranged for Daisy to get "lost," selling our daughter.
When his deal went sour, he' d used me as a shield, promising to tell me where she was if I protected him. I fought like a cornered animal, and they broke my leg. He never told me.
Dying in this snow, watching the man who destroyed everything receive an award, with my daughter' s bracelet on another child' s wrist?
The injustice was a suffocating shroud. Why did he hate me so much? How could he be so cruel? What kind of monster sells his own child?
Then, darkness. And a gasp. I jolted awake, not in a blizzard, but in Brittany' s lavish home, pregnant. Pregnant with Daisy. This time, things would be different. No Longer Sponsored
Sci-fi My full scholarship to Princeton had just arrived, a bright promise of four years alongside Chloe and Maya, the girls my family had sponsored since childhood, whom I saw as my own sisters.
But their smiles shattered when they announced their "dream" was deferring Princeton to follow a delinquent quarterback named Jake to South Valley State.
My phone, unsettlingly prophetic, flashed a dire warning: block them, and they'd sabotage my Ivy League future; soon, I realized their "love" was a cold calculation to use my family's wealth for Jake, leading me to secretly cut their financial ties, a move that spiraled into them physically attacking me before Jake shoved me into the path of my parents' arriving car.
As my bones shattered and I lay bleeding, the ultimate betrayal wasn't just the physical pain, but the chilling realization that the girls I'd always protected were capable of such ruthless manipulation.
Now, with my parents suddenly witnessing their true colors and my own future hanging by a thread, those "sisters" would learn that their carefully orchestrated scheme had just triggered their own spectacular downfall. The Heiress Lost, The Billionaire Found
Romance My life used to be picture-perfect, complete with a brilliant scholarship student named Liam who tutored me, quietly becoming my everything.
I was the privileged girl who bought him new glasses and shared my lunch, seeing past his poverty to the smart, kind soul within.
Then, overnight, my family lost everything.
Our mansion, our cars, my college fund-gone.
I swallowed my pride, working a grueling sales job, fighting to pay for Boston State, while old bullies like Bryce sneered at my downfall.
Just when I thought I was hitting rock bottom, Liam reappeared.
He was no longer the skinny kid but a polished, confident man, the heir to a billionaire father he' d never known.
He helped my struggling dad and even sent me money, yet a strange distance lingered, especially with the stunning Elena always by his side.
Did he only see me as a charity case now, a relic from his past? Was all our shared history just a debt to be repaid?
But then, as I finally tried to move on, dress on, ready for a hopeful new date, he stood on my doorstep.
His eyes raw, his voice unsteady, he admitted, "I can't stand it. I'm in love with you. I have been since Northwood." You might like
Rejected by the Son, I Chose the Don
Rabbit On my wedding day, my father sold me to the Chicago Outfit to pay his debts. I was supposed to marry Alex Moreno, the heir to the city's most powerful crime family. But he couldn't even be bothered to show up.
As I stood alone at the altar, humiliated, my best friend delivered the final blow. Alex hadn't just stood me up; he had run off to California with his mistress.
The whispers in the cathedral turned me into a joke. I was damaged goods, the rejected bride. His family knew the whole time and let me take the public fall, offering me his cousins as pathetic replacements-a brute who hated me or a coward who couldn't protect me.
The humiliation burned away my fear, leaving only cold rage. My life was already over, so I decided to set the whole game on fire myself. The marriage pact only said a Carlson had to marry a Moreno; it never said which one.
With nothing left to lose, I looked past the pathetic boys they offered.
I chose the one man they never expected.
I chose his father, the Don himself.
My Husband's Brother Owns My Secret
Rabbit My marriage to Joshua Caldwell was a prison sentence. I was a Hartman trophy, sold to the powerful family who had destroyed mine.
Then I discovered he was cheating. His mistress was pregnant with the child he denied me, and he was stealing my secret song lyrics to build her career. When I confronted him, he called me a spineless liability and threatened to destroy what was left of my family.
To make matters worse, a one-night stand with a stranger turned out to be with my husband's brother, Anthony Caldwell-the Don of the city. He knew all of Joshua's secrets and used them to trap me in a twisted game, seeing me as nothing more than an asset.
They both thought I was a broken doll they could control.
I wrote a song for his mistress, a beautiful execution with a single, impossible note I knew would destroy her voice.
She sang it, and now her career is over.
Now the Don has summoned me to Chicago, not knowing the woman he thinks is his asset is the one who just burned his brother's world to the ground. Contract With The Devil: Love In Shackles
Dorine Koestler I watched my husband sign the papers that would end our marriage while he was busy texting the woman he actually loved.
He didn't even glance at the header. He just scribbled the sharp, jagged signature that had signed death warrants for half of New York, tossed the file onto the passenger seat, and tapped his screen again.
"Done," he said, his voice devoid of emotion.
That was Dante Moretti. The Underboss. A man who could smell a lie from a mile away but couldn't see that his wife had just handed him an annulment decree disguised beneath a stack of mundane logistics reports.
For three years, I scrubbed his blood out of his shirts. I saved his family's alliance when his ex, Sofia, ran off with a civilian.
In return, he treated me like furniture.
He left me in the rain to save Sofia from a broken nail. He left me alone on my birthday to drink champagne on a yacht with her. He even handed me a glass of whiskey—her favorite drink—forgetting that I despised the taste.
I was merely a placeholder. A ghost in my own home.
So, I stopped waiting. I burned our wedding portrait in the fireplace, left my platinum ring in the ashes, and boarded a one-way flight to San Francisco.
I thought I was finally free. I thought I had escaped the cage.
But I underestimated Dante.
When he finally opened that file weeks later and realized he had signed away his wife without looking, the Reaper didn't accept defeat.
He burned down the world to find me, obsessed with reclaiming the woman he had already thrown away. To Ruin Him, I Married His Rival
Rabbit Andrew Hebert, the man who promised to protect me, stood on a stage and announced his engagement to my tormentor. It wasn't just heartbreak; it was a business deal. He was selling me to a creditor to cover his gambling debts.
The applause of the powerful families was a death sentence, each clap sealing my fate as collateral. Andrew had paraded me here just to show everyone I was an asset to be liquidated, while his new fiancée smirked at me from the stage.
I was trapped, with no money and no one to turn to. The man I loved was leading me to the slaughter.
But as I fled into the library, a voice emerged from the shadows, deep and dangerous.
Damien Maddox. The Dark Don. The only man Andrew feared.
He offered me a different kind of cage, one with the power to burn Andrew's world to the ground.
With nothing left to lose, I looked the devil in the eyes.
"Take me with you." Married To My Mysterious Ex-Con Husband
Flying Free My father bailed a violent ex-con out of prison just to force me into a marriage with him. I stood in a filthy Bronx hallway, my Vera Wang gown dragging through the grime, knowing this was the price for my mother’s life. If I didn't marry the man behind the steel door, the wire transfer for her hospital ventilator wouldn't go through the next morning.
The man, a scarred giant named Dock, treated me with cold contempt, telling me he didn't touch things he didn't want—and he didn't want a "Jacobson." I thought I had hit rock bottom, tied to a criminal while my family lived in luxury. But the nightmare was just beginning.
When I tried to return my wedding dress to pay for rent, my sister Janie and stepmother found me. They laughed as security dragged me out of the boutique, calling me a "charity case." When I finally crawled back to our family manor to beg for the money my father had promised, Janie revealed the horrific truth. She had liquidated my mother’s medical trust to fund a waterfront real estate project.
"Get out and let your mother rot," she screamed, throwing a glass of ice water in my face before having guards dump me in the dirt. I knelt on the gravel, wet and bleeding, realizing my own flesh and blood had signed my mother's death warrant for a profit. I had nothing left—no money, no home, and a husband who was supposed to be a monster.
I didn't understand why they hated me so much, or how I would survive the night. But then, a black car screeched to a halt in front of me. Dock pulled me inside, his eyes burning with a lethal coldness I’d never seen in a common thug.
As he wiped the blood from my hands, he picked up a encrypted phone and gave a single command.
"Initiate Project Titan. I want the Jacobson Group insolvent by Friday."
I looked at the man I thought was a broke felon, realizing I hadn't just married a stranger—I had married the most dangerous man in the city, and he was about to burn my family's world to the ground. When Love Rebuilds From Frozen Hearts
Landslide On the night of my career-defining art exhibition, I stood completely alone. My husband, Dante Sovrano, the most feared man in Chicago, had promised he wouldn’t miss it for the world. Instead, he was on the evening news.
He was shielding another woman—his ruthless business partner—from a downpour, letting his own thousand-dollar suit get soaked just to protect her. The headline flashed below them, calling their new alliance a "power move" that would reshape the city.
The guests at my gallery immediately began to whisper. Their pitying looks turned my greatest triumph into a public spectacle of humiliation. Then his text arrived, a cold, final confirmation of my place in his life: “Something came up. Isabella needed me. You understand. Business.”
For four years, I had been his possession. A quiet, artistic wife kept in a gilded cage on the top floor of his skyscraper. I poured all my loneliness and heartbreak onto my canvases, but he never truly saw my art. He never truly saw me. He just saw another one of his assets.
My heart didn't break that night. It turned to ice. He hadn't just neglected me; he had erased me.
So the next morning, I walked into his office and handed him a stack of gallery contracts.
He barely glanced up, annoyed at the interruption to his empire-building. He snatched the pen and signed on the line I’d marked.
He didn’t know the page tucked directly underneath was our divorce decree.
He had just signed away his wife like she was nothing more than an invoice for art supplies. Too Late For Regret: The Mafia King's Runaway
Tangye Wanzi I watched my husband, the most feared Capo in New York, sign away our marriage with the same cold indifference he usually reserved for ordering a hit.
The nib of his Montblanc pen scratched against the paper, drowning out the rain hitting the coffee shop window.
He didn't bother to read a single word.
He thought he was signing routine shipping manifests for the family business.
In reality, he was signing the "Dissolution of Union" papers I had hidden beneath the cover sheet.
He was too distracted to check. His eyes were glued to his encrypted phone, frantically texting Sofia—the widow, the tragic beauty, the woman who had haunted our marriage for three years.
"Done," he grunted, tossing the stack into his armored SUV without even glancing at me.
"Business is concluded, Elena. We leave."
Moments later, his phone rang with her special emergency tone.
His demeanor shifted from cold boss to frantic protector instantly.
"Driver, divert. She needs me," he roared.
He looked at me with zero affection and ordered, "Get out, Elena. Luca will take you home."
He kicked me out of the car into the pouring rain to rush to his mistress, completely unaware he had just legally granted me my freedom.
I stood on the curb, shivering but smiling for the first time in years.
By the time the Don realizes he just signed his own divorce, I will be a ghost in San Francisco.
And he will have nothing left but his shipping logs and his regret. My Triplets' Daddy Is A Heartless Mafia
Itsme "It was just one night stand, and now I'm pregnant with triplets? Gosh!"
Josephine Jade never thought that she would have to run away from her own family while pregnant. She was alone, without money, without connections, with three fetuses in her stomach. How can she survive?
However, Josephine couldn't give up now, until she managed to reclaim her arbitrarily seized property and get back at everyone who tried to get rid of her.
A sick child, a past crush that comes back, a mysterious eccentric man, and a family that hates her, will weave together the journey of Josephine Jade's new life.
"You have no right to separate me from my children, you bastard! I will survive and you will submit to me. Just watch!" 
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