Xiao Mao Mao's Books and Stories
Love's Shadow: A Bitter End
I had been dead for a year, my spirit tethered to my daughter, Emma, watching over her in the orphanage. Then, the director called my ex-husband, Elroy, for Emma' s urgent medical treatment, but he coldly refused, telling her, "Then let her die. It would be a convenience. She can go join her short-lived mother." A week later, Emma died at five years old, because her father wouldn' t spare the money to save her. Days later, Elroy arrived at the orphanage, believing I had faked Emma' s death to manipulate him. He pulled back the sheet covering her small body, sneering, "Very realistic. A good prop." He then picked up our daughter' s body, carried her outside, and tossed her into a dumpster, scattering raw meat around it, taunting, "Let's see how long this prop lasts when the stray dogs find it." My spirit screamed, but I was powerless as dogs tore at her. He believed I was alive, orchestrating a sick game, but I was a ghost, a silent, screaming witness to his monstrous cruelty. Why did he hate us so much? Then, I saw him with Ivonne, his childhood sweetheart, heavily pregnant, and the horrifying truth clicked: he had a new family, and he wanted Emma' s heart for his new daughter.
Broken Engagement, Berlin Escape
I flew to London with a custom engagement ring, ready to surprise my boyfriend for our anniversary. Instead, I found him wearing a matching "couple's bracelet" with his "anxious" female best friend, Britney. He even ditched our anniversary dinner because she had a "panic attack" over a chipped nail. Realizing I was the third wheel in my own relationship, I quietly transferred to a university in Berlin to escape. But Graham wouldn't let go. He followed me across the continent, dragging my mother along to guilt-trip me into coming back. When that didn't work, he handed me a "farewell gift." As I opened the box, a sickly sweet smell hit me-he was trying to drug me to kidnap me back to New York. My legs gave out, but I didn't hit the floor. I fell into the arms of Harrison McKee-Britney's terrifyingly powerful uncle and my new professor. "Find another side chick, Graham," Harrison growled, pulling me close. "This one is taken."
Love Drained, Life Reclaimed
For twenty years, all Ava Lewis wanted was to find her biological family, the missing piece of her identity. When her adopted sister, Brittany Miller, beamed and said, "Almost there, Ava. You're going to love our old town. It's where all the family traditions started," Ava believed it was the start of something beautiful. But the moment they stepped out of the car at a secluded, dark cabin, the loving facade shattered. Two burly men appeared, seizing her arms as her "parents" stood by, their faces blank, their smiles gone. "Don't fight it, Ava," Brittany's voice was chillingly cold. "It'll be easier if you just cooperate." Dragged inside, bound to a chair, Ava watched in horror as Brittany approached with a strange, ancient device, a needle glinting. "This is our family tradition," Brittany explained, piercing Ava's chest. "We are connecting your life force to this ancient family relic. It will bring us good fortune and health." Her "parents" chimed in, "It's your duty as our daughter." Ava' s life force drained away with each transfer, leaving her hollow and weak, while her biological family seemingly thrived. But after the forty-ninth transfer, the truth, colder and crueler than any physical pain, was revealed: "That's the point," Brittany whispered, a malicious smile twisting her lips. "This was never about health. It was about your death." Bound, exposed, bleeding, Ava realized she was merely a product, auctioned off to the highest bidder for their depraved entertainment. Then he appeared, "the Master," a man who seemed to stop the horror, only to brand her with her own essence, making her a monument to his family's generational vendetta. But from the depths of betrayal and despair, a burning rage ignited. She might be broken, but she would not be silenced. She was Ava Lewis, and she would make them pay.
A Bride Forged in Fire
The scent of gasoline and burning silk was the last thing I knew on my wedding day. Flames danced around me, illuminating my new husband, Liam Thompson, my stepbrother, as he clutched a locket with my stepmother Sarah' s picture. "You ruined it all, Ava," he sneered, his face contorted with a hatred I' d never imagined. He carved Sarah' s name into my skin and then forced the locket down my throat, piece by agonizing piece. The suffocation, the searing pain, the betrayal-they were a twisted sacrament to a love I was only just beginning to comprehend, a love that would consume us all. Then, darkness. I awoke to the antiseptic smell of my familiar bedroom, sunlight streaming through the window. Downstairs, Liam' s frantic yelling and Sarah' s feigned sobs echoed from below, a chilling replay of the day my life ended before. It was real. I was back. Back to the day of the incident, the day my father signed away my future to protect his pride, the day I walked like a prisoner to my own execution. The humiliation, the pain, the fire-never again. A sharp knock on my door. It was Sophia, my "best friend," feigning concern, ready to lead me into the trap. "Ava? Are you in there? Something terrible is happening downstairs!" she called. But this time, I wouldn't be the victim. I smiled, a cold, sharp curve on my lips. "A Céleste purse like that is more important. You deserve it." As her footsteps faded down the hall, racing for a status symbol, I knew this was my chance. Let the real performance begin.
His Death, My Awakening
They threw me out of this city three years ago, calling me crazy, an obsessed medical student trying to ruin a business heir' s life because he chose someone else. Now I' m back, a doctor, ready to face the judgment all over again. But at my parents' suffocating welcome-home party, the news blared, announcing the brain death of renowned neurosurgeon Dr. Ben Carter. My world shattered. My glass hit the floor, and a raw, guttural sob tore through me. Everyone stared, not with judgment for Ethan, but with confusion for a grief I couldn' t name for a man I didn' t remember. They thought I was breaking over Ethan Hayes' engagement to Emily Vance. But I hadn't shed a single tear for him. Instead, I was destroyed by the death of a stranger on the news. That moment, kneeling amidst broken glass and a grief too immense to comprehend, was the beginning. It ignited a desperate, burning need to understand who Dr. Ben Carter was and why his death felt like the end of my world.
No More Tears: The Avenging Wife
My daughter Maya' s ragged breath was the only sound in our quiet, dusty home, her small body wracked by fever. I begged my husband, Caleb, to take her to a doctor, but his eyes were cold and his voice flat as he refused, prioritizing his sister-in-law Brenda' s son over our dying child. My mother-in-law, Mary-Ann, handed me old, expired antibiotics, saying they should be "good enough," sealing Maya' s fate. For two agonizing days, I watched her fade, desperately clinging to a miracle that never came. On the third night, my world shattered as Maya went still in my arms, her silent passing tearing a primal scream from my throat. In my grief and rage, I confronted Caleb and Mary-Ann, only for Caleb to silence me with a violent fist, leaving me bleeding and abandoned in the darkest national forest. As I lay dying, I saw a chilling vision: Brenda, wearing my locket, stealing the life my long-lost Army Colonel father had come to claim for me. They took everything-my daughter, my life, my future-and gave it to my worst enemies. But then, I woke with a gasp, the silver locket cool against my skin, Maya sleeping soundly beside me. It was three days before her illness, three days before her death, and this time, I wasn't just a mother. This time, I was an avenger.
The Southern Heiress's Reckoning
I woke with a gasp, the Southern sun blazing. Today was my debutante ball, the pinnacle for any young woman of the Ashley dynasty. But the date, the gown, the very air in my room, triggered a flood of memories from a lifetime ago-the same ball, the same stolen heirloom dress on Babs, my family's charity case. I watched passively as she paraded in my priceless gown, public outrage engulfing me, until Father' s sudden, suspicious death and my brother Tom Jr., infatuated with Babs, seized power. They sent me away, to years of hell in a "behavioral correction institute," where I eventually faded, learning Babs orchestrated it all for revenge, announcing her engagement to Tom Jr. as my life ended. The cruelty of that past life, the utter betrayal by Beau, my fiancé, Tom, my brother, and the sheer injustice of Babs's deceit, surged through my veins. How could they have been so blind, so easily swayed by a viper in our midst? No. Not again. This time, I sat up, my spirit forged in the fires of that hell. My gown was missing, but I remembered another: Mother's legendary debutante dress. This time, I would not despair. This time, I would be in control. This time, Babs would not win. This time, they would all pay.
His Second Life, Their Last Mistake
I woke up in a stale motel room, the memory of my brutal murder, orchestrated by my fiancée Seraphina Vance and her cousin Julian Thorne, searing everything. This was my second chance, a fresh start. I tried to escape their glittering, poisonous world again, but they dragged me back, trapping me in a sadistic game. They made me Seraphina' s pet, then Julian' s punching bag, a living target for their physical and emotional abuse. Then, in a horrific twist, Julian brutally murdered my loyal dog, Buster, before my eyes, accusing me of madness. But the ultimate betrayal came when he ruthlessly orchestrated a fire, consuming my innocent parents and little sister. My family was gone. Annihilated because of them. How could such monstrous cruelty exist? Why was I doomed to relive this nightmare, only to lose everything again? As grief hardened into an icy, unyielding rage, an unexpected ally emerged: Veronica Shaw, the Senator's enigmatic Chief of Staff. She saw their evil. Together, we would expose them. This time, the Vance empire would burn, and the flames would consume their lies and crimes, bringing justice for my shattered life.
Dote On Devil: Submissive To Desire
Every time it rained, Hans would wake up from the nightmare that had haunted him for the past eight years. The picture that his love died in his arms closed the door on others. Another rainy night, a car accident brought Moira into his life. This girl had the same features as his beloved. Now that she had lost all her memory after waking up, she was the perfect substitute for his lost lover. However, fate had another plan and their sweetness was replaced by the cruel truth. She was none other than the daughter of his sworn enemy. Where would their story go? Would love still survive in hatred?
