rabb
16 Published Stories
rabb's Books and Stories
His Apathy, Her Freedom's Dawn
Modern I thought my arranged marriage to the ruthless tycoon Axel Flynn was a love story when he risked his life to save mine.
But when his fragile childhood friend, Alicia, arrived, I saw the truth. He would panic if she got a paper cut, but he didn't bat an eye when I jumped out of planes.
With his blessing, she stole my company, my life' s work. At my own birthday party, he announced her as the new director.
When I screamed the truth, he had me drugged. He threw me into a dark isolation room in the basement for three days, with no food or water, because Alicia claimed I was "unstable."
He dragged me out, weak and broken, and demanded I get on my knees to apologize to the woman who had destroyed me.
I finally understood. His "love" was never love. It was apathy. He simply didn't care if I lived or died.
So, after he believed her final, vicious lie and left me for dead, I took the divorce papers he'd carelessly signed and walked away. This time, for good. From His Rejected Omega to the Alpha King's Queen
Werewolf My fated mate, Richard, and I were preparing for our sacred Mating Ceremony, a vow before the Moon Goddess meant to bind our souls for eternity.
But a psychic message slammed into my mind—a weaponized memory sent by his adopted sister, Eva. In it, she was wrapped in Richard's arms while his parents, the Alpha and Luna, beamed with approval.
For the next two weeks, I was forced to play the part of the adoring Omega bride. He would lie about "pack emergencies" to run to her, leaving me alone in a gown shop while she sent me visions of their trysts.
His parents stripped me of the project I had poured my soul into for two years, handing it to Eva as a gift. They called me a weak-blooded Omega, unworthy of their son.
Meanwhile, Eva sent me an audio clip of Richard promising her she would be the one to carry his strong heir, not me.
They all thought I was a pathetic, disposable pawn in their twisted game. They were waiting for me to break.
They had no idea I was secretly the heir to the most powerful pack on the continent. And I had already arranged for our Mating Ceremony to be broadcast globally, turning their sacred day into the stage for their ultimate humiliation. I Became Someone Else's Luna
Werewolf I stayed with Ethan Hudson for seven years. He grew bored of me.
He found a younger werewolf girl in the clan.
I didn't plead for him to stay this time.
I discarded the mate-bond stone, burned the protection bracelet I crafted, and left the clan that night.
His friends ridiculed me, wagering how soon I'd beg for reconciliation.
Ethan, arm around his new girl, laughed and said, "Three days tops. She'll come back crying."
Three days passed, then another three, and I never returned.
Ethan couldn't wait any longer and contacted me first. "Sylvie, enough with the tantrum..."
Victor Wilson, his rival, cut in on the phone. "Ethan, you've got to move fast to win someone back. Too late, and a good girl's gone."
Ethan's howl nearly broke the receiver. "Get Sylvie on the phone!"
Victor kissed me softly and said, "She can't. She's worn out from last night and just fell asleep." Too Late To Beg: The Don's Regret
Mafia I was still bleeding into the mesh underwear the hospital gave me when the photos hit the internet: my husband, the Don, forcing his tongue down his mistress's throat.
Three days ago, that very mistress had shoved me off a yacht.
I lost the baby. I lost my uterus. I was left completely barren.
Yet, when my husband finally called, it wasn't to ask if I was alive.
"The press is eating us alive," Dante barked through the phone. "Send a gift basket to Sofia. Fix this mess."
To make matters worse, his grandmother stood at the foot of my bed, holding the hand of the daughter they had stolen from me at birth.
"Mommy looks like a ghost," my daughter said, her voice devoid of love.
That was the moment the last ember of affection died. I realized I wasn't a wife to them; I was just a broken vessel.
So, when they sneered that I was useless, I didn't cry.
I pulled a black USB drive from under my pillow and threw it on the bed.
"Divorce papers," I said calmly. "And the complete security blueprints of the Moretti Fortress. Every blind spot. Every tunnel I designed."
"Sign the papers and let me go, or I sell this drive to your enemies for one dollar."
I left the country with nothing but the clothes on my back, vanishing into a freezing attic in Paris.
I thought I was finally free.
But three weeks later, Dante kicked down my door, looking at my poverty with horror.
"Come home," he begged, tossing a box of diamonds onto my drafting table. "We can be a family."
I looked at the man who had destroyed me and opened the window.
"You're looking for the girl who loved you," I whispered, throwing the diamonds into the trash alley below.
"But you killed her." Runaway Mistress: The Mafia Boss Begs On His Knees
Mafia The heavy steel door of the industrial meat locker slammed shut, sealing me in at four degrees below zero.
Ten minutes ago, I was the woman Dante Moretti promised to burn the world for.
Now, I was the rat accused of poisoning his heir.
Dante didn’t just lock me in. He looked at me with eyes devoid of warmth and said, "Evidence says otherwise."
He chose the lie of his arranged wife, Sofia, over my truth.
For months, I endured the price of loving the Underboss.
I watched him marry Sofia in a grand ceremony to secure a family alliance.
I let him force me onto a table to drain my blood to save her life when she was injured.
I took twenty lashes from his family’s enforcers, all while he stood by and watched, claiming it was necessary to "protect" me.
He told me to wait. He told me the marriage was a sham.
But when I finally escaped and he came chasing after me, revealing that Sofia was a fraud and he wanted me back, I didn't feel relief.
I felt nothing.
Even after he threw his body over mine to save me from a collapsing building, taking a jagged shard of timber through his chest, I couldn't forgive him.
In the hospital, his mother handed me his journal.
It was filled with entries about his undying love for me, written on the very same days he allowed me to be tortured.
"Tell him the debt is paid," I told his mother as I handed the book back.
"He saved my life. I saved his child. We are even."
I turned my back on the ICU and walked out into the rain.
Dante Moretti might have been willing to die for me, but he never knew how to live for me. The Mafia King's Unwanted Wife Shines
Mafia My husband ordered me to turn around and face the altar. He unbuckled his heavy leather belt, his eyes cold and devoid of mercy.
"You need to learn respect," Dante spat.
He whipped me in the family chapel until my back was a bloody mess. All because his mistress, Sofia, had framed me for breaking his grandfather's urn.
He didn't ask for the truth. He didn't hesitate. He just wanted to punish the wife he considered a burden.
As the belt tore into my skin, I didn't scream. I just counted the memories dying.
He didn't know I was the one who dove into the frozen lake to save him in high school.
He didn't know I was the one who took a knife for him during the ambush.
He believed Sofia's lies that she was his savior.
I had loved him for ten years. I had bled for him. And in return, he scarred me permanently for a crime I didn't commit.
That night, I didn't tend to my wounds. I packed my bags, signed the divorce papers, and swore on the Code of Omertà to never love him again.
Three years later, Dante found my old diary hidden under the floorboards. He read the truth about who really saved him, and realized he had tortured his guardian angel.
He found me in Paris, fell to his knees in a crowded hotel lobby, and begged for forgiveness with tears in his eyes.
I looked at the man who broke me and smiled.
"Lie down and die, Dante," I said softly. "Because I have a life to live." Divorce Following Pregnancy
Modern In the third year of their marriage, Liam became infatuated with his new secretary, Lindsay Price.
She was open and bold. Her personal motto was "Fortune favors the bold."
In bed, she knew countless different positions, and outside of it, she accompanied Liam in various thrilling activities.
While he went out with Lindsay, he maintained the facade of a devoted husband by fabricating where he had been to Lillian Walsh.
"I'm not coming home tonight. I was drunk, so I'm sleeping at the office."
Lindsay chuckled beside him. She said with a hint of teasing provocation, "When are you going to divorce that boring old woman?"
The call ended abruptly.
Unbeknownst to them, Lillian was sitting in the Obstetrics and Gynecology department and staring at the pregnancy report at her fingertips. She had been pregnant for six weeks.
After she left the hospital, she called her brother, Ricky Walsh, who was a lawyer. "Ricky, I need you to make a divorce agreement for me."
Ricky paused briefly and then asked, "Are you sure about this?"
Lillian replied calmly, "Yes. I'm pregnant. I plan to keep the baby myself." After Amnesia, I Became Forever Out of His Reach
Romance After a week in a coma caused by a car accident, Grace Miller's boyfriend, Leonard Stone, suddenly regained his memory.
He remembered the girl he longed for but could never have.
So, the first thing Leonard did upon waking was to break up with Grace. "Anything that happened during my memory loss wasn't really my choice. From today, let's go our separate ways. Our relationship doesn't hold anymore."
Grace didn't try to hold him back.
Coincidentally, the new drug research in the lab had just succeeded, and Grace volunteered to participate in the trial.
"Once you take this pill, these memories will be permanently erased. Grace, are you sure about your decision?" The Unshackled: A Hacker's Retribution
Modern On the night of her twenty-sixth birthday, Eliana Walker pushed her wheelchair through bar after bar, scouring every club in sight.
It wasn't until she received a call from the police station that her search for Lucien Lane came to an end.
"Is this Ms. Walker? Mr. Lane got drunk and started a fight. We need you to come down here."
After hanging up, Eliana rubbed warmth into her stiff fingers, unsure whether to feel relief or sorrow.
Before dawn, she finally reached the police station, just in time to see Lucien erupting in fury, "Who the hell told you to call her? Sure, she saved my life-but those useless crippled legs have shackled me for ten damn years! If she weren't Ethan's sister, I would've thrown a few million at her to be done with it long ago!"
Shards from the shattered bottle sprayed through the air, one slashing across Eliana's face.
Her face was slick with wetness-she couldn't tell if it was blood or tears.
With trembling hands, Eliana dialed a number.
She drew in a deep breath, her voice resolute, "Send out the message worldwide, the Anonymous hacker alliance will no longer offer any support to Lucien Lane's company. If any hackers want to test the strength of Lane Corporation's firewall, be my guest." His Regret, My Freedom
Romance The call came on a sunny Tuesday, a day promising peace, as I reviewed blueprints in my home office.
Then, my phone vibrated with his name: Ethan Carter, my husband.
"Chloe," he said, his voice cold and distant, "We need to get a divorce."
He wanted to give "her" legitimate status; he' d met someone.
I simply leaned back, my voice flat, "Okay. Then we should do that."
He hung up, without a proper goodbye, after arranging for his lawyer to draft the generous settlement papers.
My best friend, Maya, on the other hand, exploded, "That son of a bitch! After everything you' ve done for him!"
Her fury was a storm I couldn't feel, my own emotions a placid lake.
"He wants to give 'the other woman' legitimate status," I recited, the words foreign on my tongue.
Maya vowed to burn his suits and sue him for every penny, insisting I was in shock.
"It' s okay," I told her, a tired smile touching my lips. "I also had an affair."
A different kind of silence fell.
"And another thing," I added, looking at my perfect blueprints, "His affair? I arranged it." My Father's Daughter: Unstoppable
Fantasy The acrid smell of burning plastic filled my lungs, a scent that brought back chilling memories.
I was trapped, a massive server rack crushing my leg, as sparks flew and a hellish glow illuminated the terrified face of Tiffany, my boyfriend Liam's "friend."
This was it, the moment everything went wrong. Again.
Just like in my last life, Liam burst in, scanned the chaotic scene, and without hesitation, rushed to Tiffany, who was barely coughing, leaving me shattered and bleeding under the rack.
He looked back, his eyes cold, muttering that Tiffany's family were key investors, and saving her was "for the greater good." He dismissed my crushed leg, promising to come back, then turned his back and vanished with Tiffany, leaving me for dead in a room about to explode.
I stared at the man who had murdered me in my previous life, making the exact same choice, offering the exact same excuse.
But this time, I wouldn't beg. This time, I was alive, miraculously saved by my brave friend, Maya. And this time, I was done. Dead bodies don' t get a second chance at revenge-but I did. No Second Chances for Treachery
Modern I poured my life, my inheritance, and my soul into Redwood Creek Brewery. As a gesture of love and trust, I made Olivia, my fiancée of seven years, CEO, gifting her 51% of the shares. Or so I thought.
Then the news hit: Olivia was pregnant. With Mark' s baby. Mark, her college ex, who I'd just hired as COO. Suddenly, my fiancée was marrying my COO, and I was just the guy who made the beer.
They turned my office into a humiliating nursery. Olivia demoted me to Mark' s assistant. They gleefully watched as Mark 'accidentally' ruined a crucial hops contract I' d just secured. Olivia's condescending calls about me "keeping the money flowing for them" felt like a constant knife twist. They even used company funds-my company' s funds!-to buy my childhood home, only to trash it immediately.
Every humiliation, every snide remark, fueled a cold, silent rage within me. They thought I was shattered, easy to discard. They believed I was just the pathetic founder no one remembered, too weak to fight back.
But they had no idea. Absolutely no idea what was coming. For months, I' d held a secret: a notarized share transfer agreement, signed by Olivia herself, making me the 91% owner. They thought it was a formality for a phony loan. I called it their eviction notice. Next Monday, I walked in, not as the loyal Head Brewer, but as the indisputable owner. Their nightmare began. When The Dead Speak: Sarah's Journal
Fantasy I hovered, a restless spirit, above the opulent ballroom of the Fairmont Copley Plaza.
This grand wedding, shimmering with laughter and clinking champagne flutes, celebrated Ethan Astor and Olivia Miller.
It should have been my wedding to Ethan.
But I was dead, reduced to a convenient scandal weeks ago, my tragic "overdose" a footnote in their perfect lives.
Below, society whispered, calling me "difficult" and "ungrateful," while my adoptive parents, the Millers, who once tossed my few possessions like trash, warmly embraced their "true" daughter.
They believed Ethan' s carefully doctored photos and the lies that framed my fall from grace.
No one among these glittering guests knew about the Lupus eating me alive, the relentless pain, or the crushing exhaustion that ultimately consumed me.
They simply saw Sarah, the troubled heiress, a messy problem conveniently gone.
The injustice, the quiet suffering they willfully ignored, burned colder than my ghostly form.
Then, during what should have been Ethan' s charming speech, Olivia, the new bride, stood.
She held up a small, sleek USB drive, her eyes firm.
"I have something to share," she announced, her voice echoing.
"A final message. From Sarah."
My breath, if I had one, would have hitched.
My most private journal, my very words, were about to silence their celebration, with the police already waiting outside. The Thanksgiving Takedown
Modern My parents' murder left me an empty shell, and my fiancée's abandonment poured salt on the wound. I was drowning.
Then, at their funeral, a lifeline appeared: my ex-fiancée's sister, Detective Sarah Davis, publicly proposed, vowing to bring their killers to justice. I said yes, desperately clutching onto her promise.
Five years passed. The case grew cold. My world crumbled again when I overheard Sarah, my wife, deliberately stonewalling leads.
The killer? Michael Vance, my ex's new husband.
My blood ran cold as I heard Sarah pledge to do "anything to protect him," revealing a sickening loyalty that twisted my insides.
The truth hit me like a physical blow: my marriage was a calculated performance, every comforting word a lie. She wasn't just covering up; she was protecting my parents' killer, actively erasing me from their family's narrative. How could the woman I trusted betray me so utterly for the man who destroyed my life?
After she physically attacked me to shield Michael during a Thanksgiving blow-up – publicly choosing him over me – I knew what I had to do.
I systematically gathered irrefutable evidence of their conspiracy, faked my own death, and set the wheels of justice in motion from the shadows. Now, 'Ethan Miller' is dead, but the man he was lives to see justice served, on his own terms. You might like
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." 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!" Marrying Her Was Easy, Losing Her Was Hell
Michael Tretter "Stella once savored Marc's devotion, yet his covert cruelty cut deep. She torched their wedding portrait at his feet while he sent flirty messages to his mistress.
With her chest tight and eyes blazing, Stella delivered a sharp slap.
Then she deleted her identity, signed onto a classified research mission, vanished without a trace, and left him a hidden bombshell.
On launch day she vanished; that same dawn Marc's empire crumbled. All he unearthed was her death certificate, and he shattered.
When they met again, a gala spotlighted Stella beside a tycoon. Marc begged. With a smirk, she said, ""Out of your league, darling." The Queen Returns: Pampered By Her Three Powerhouse Brothers
Kleon Samorodnitsky After five years of playing the perfect daughter, Rylie was exposed as a stand-in. Her fiancé bolted, friends scattered, and her adoptive brothers shoved her out, telling her to grovel back to her real family. Done with humiliation, she swore to claw back what was hers. Shock followed: her birth family ruled the town's wealth. Overnight, she became their precious girl. The boardroom brother canceled meetings, the genius brother ditched his lab, the musician brother postponed a tour. As those who spurned her begged forgiveness, Admiral Brad Morgan calmly declared, "She's already taken." The Ghost Wife's Billion Dollar Tech Comeback
Huo Wuer Today is October 14th, my birthday. I returned to New York after months away, dragging my suitcase through the biting wind, but the VIP pickup zone where my husband’s Maybach usually idled was empty.
When I finally let myself into our Upper East Side penthouse, I didn’t find a cake or a "welcome home" banner. Instead, I found my husband, Caden, kneeling on the floor, helping our five-year-old daughter wrap a massive gift for my half-sister, Adalynn.
Caden didn’t even look up when I walked in; he was too busy laughing with the girl who had already stolen my father’s legacy and was now moving in on my family. "Auntie Addie is a million times better than Mommy," my daughter Elara chirped, clutching a plush toy Caden had once forbidden me from buying for her. "Mommy is mean," she whispered loudly, while Caden just smirked, calling me a "drill sergeant" before whisking her off to Adalynn’s party without a second glance.
Later that night, I saw a video Adalynn posted online where my husband and child laughed while mocking my "sensitive" nature, treating me like an inconvenient ghost in my own home. I had spent five years researching nutrition for Elara’s health and managing every detail of Caden’s empire, only to be discarded the moment I wasn't in the room.
How could the man who set his safe combination to my birthday completely forget I even existed? The realization didn't break me; it turned me into ice.
I didn't scream or beg for an explanation. I simply walked into the study, pulled out the divorce papers I’d drafted months ago, and took a black marker to the terms. I crossed out the alimony, the mansion, and even the custody clause—if they wanted a life without me, I would give them exactly what they asked for.
I left my four-carat diamond ring on the console table and walked out into the rain with nothing but a heavily encrypted hard drive. The submissive Mrs. Holloway was gone, and "Ghost," the most lethal architect in the tech world, was finally back online to take back everything they thought I’d forgotten. Rising From Wreckage: Starfall's Epic Comeback
Huo Wuer Rain hammered against the asphalt as my sedan spun violently into the guardrail on the I-95. Blood trickled down my temple, stinging my eyes, while the rhythmic slap of the windshield wipers mocked my panic.
Trembling, I dialed my husband, Clive. His executive assistant answered instead, his voice professional and utterly cold.
"Mr. Wilson says to stop the theatrics. He said, and I quote, 'Hang up. Tell her I don’t have time for her emotional blackmail tonight.'"
The line went dead while I was still trapped in the wreckage. At the hospital, I watched the news footage of Clive wrapping his jacket around his "fragile" ex-girlfriend, Angelena, shielding her from the storm I was currently bleeding in. When I returned to our penthouse, I found a prenatal ultrasound in his suit pocket, dated the day he claimed to be on a business trip.
Instead of an apology, Clive met me with a sneer. He told me I was nothing but an "expensive decoration" his father bought to make him look stable. He froze my bank accounts and cut off my cards, waiting for the hunger to drive me back to his feet.
I stared at the man I had loved for four years, realizing he didn't just want a wife; he wanted a prop he could switch off. He thought he could starve me into submission while he played father to another woman's child.
But Clive forgot one thing. Before I was his trophy wife, I was Starfall—the legendary voice actress who vanished at the height of her fame.
"I'm not jealous, Clive. I'm done."
I grabbed my old microphone and walked out. I’m not just leaving him; I’m taking the lead role in the biggest saga in Hollywood—the one Angelena is desperate for. This time, the "decoration" is going to burn his world down. She Was The Joke, Now She's The Queen
Lila Wren Two years of marriage left Brinley questioning everything, her supposed happiness revealed as nothing but sham.
Abandoning her past for Colin, she discovered only betrayal and a counterfeit wedding.
Accepting his heart would stay frozen, she called her estranged father, agreeing to the match he proposed.
Laughter followed her, with whispers of Colin's power to toss her aside. Yet, she reinvented herself-legendary racer, casino mastermind, and acclaimed designer.
When Colin tried to reclaim her, another man pulled Brinley close. "She's already carrying my child. You can't move on?" 
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