Short Romance Stories & Novels

After my wife tortured me for the 98th time for Hudson Langdon, I gave up all hope and accepted her bestie, Mona Sachman, as my girlfriend. After a night of passion with Mona, she promised to help fake my death and we would get married overseas using a new identity. However, I woke up earlier than expected inside the coffin after taking the suspended animation drug Mona gave me. I was unable to move, but I could hear Mona talking to someone outside the coffin. "Miss Sachman, you've gained Sean Langdon's trust by instigating Sheila Edwards to torture him and pretending to save him after that. Why do you need to arrange for him to fake his death and bury him?" "That's the only way for the Langdons to believe that he had truly died, and for Hudson to secure his position as their heir. No one would ever mention that he is an illegitimate son after that." The other person asked after some slight hesitation, "Isn't it a little too long to wait seven days to dig him out of the coffin after you and Hudson Langdon get married?" "The drug is effective for five days. I've already gotten someone to put food, water, and an oxygen canister into the coffin for him. He won't die so easily."

A homecoming banquet was organized for my wealthy boyfriend’s first love. At the banquet, he forced me to drink an entire glass of Whisky, even though I was pregnant, just to make his first love happy. My abdomen was in excruciating pain, and blood was seeping through my white dress. He kissed his first love in front of me as his friends cheered him on. As I was losing consciousness, I heard a cold remark. “Ignore her. She’s just a mistress. She won’t be able to live without me.” When I woke up in the hospital, I caressed my flat stomach and wanted to send him a photo of the medical report detailing my miscarriage. However, I realized that his profile picture had been changed to a photo of his first love’s side profile. He even blocked me again. However, this time, I did not beg him as I had in the past. Instead, I booked a flight ticket to leave the country.

Shortly after my boyfriend dies, I prepare to join him in the underworld. However, I'm saved by a rich man who passes by. He's worried that I'll do something rash again, so he stays by my side for three years and helps me move past my trauma. Before Benjamin Zoller's birthday, I receive a call from the hospital and learn that he's been diagnosed with cancer. I head to his company to look for him when I hear his smug voice. "I've always suspected that Cherilyn is still hung up on her ex, so I made up something about being sick to test her. I'll believe that she loves me if she's willing to take her life for my sake." I play along and fake my death before him. He loses his mind after witnessing everything.

Six months after our divorce, my ex-wife, Shanon Reich went viral with her new influencer boyfriend, Tobias Hunt, gaining over ten million followers. One day, by sheer accident, I scrolled into their livestream and saw my three-year-old daughter, Ginny Herbert, trapped inside a car. She was crying so hard she could barely breathe. Her little face was flushed, her eyes wide with fear and confusion. She looked utterly helpless. Shanon didn't smash the window, nor did she call the police. Instead, she laughed brightly at the camera. "Thank you to our top fan for the moneybag gift!" Then she grinned and said, "Send another moneybag! I'll smash the window once I get it, okay?" I lost my mind. I raced over like a madman and wrenched the car keys out of her hand. "Leomund Herbert! Are you insane?" she screamed. "Do you know how much this stream is worth? It's just a little heat! She's not going to die!" I held my daughter in my arms. Her tiny body was limp, and she was barely conscious. With reddened eyes, I pointed at her and shouted, "Shanon Reich! You will pay for this!"

My executive boyfriend's newly hired assistant caused trouble again. All because a client mentioned he was afraid of snakes, she sent him a king cobra as "exposure therapy." The client was bitten and nearly died. Because of that, the company lost a multimillion-dollar project and had to pay two million in medical compensation. Following the board's decision, I fired her on the spot. My boyfriend did not object. In fact, he cooperated with me throughout the paperwork. One year later, at the celebration party for Grant Hale's promotion to CEO, I saw that same assistant again, dressed head to toe in luxury, standing beside him. Before I could react, Grant threw a termination agreement at me and announced in front of everyone that Chloe Vance would be taking over my position. His eyes were full of hatred as he gritted out, "Natalie, I have waited countless nights for this day. Didn't you love firing people? "How does it feel to be fired in public?" Everyone thought I would make a scene. Instead, I laughed, calmly removed my employee badge, and walked out. What Grant did not know was that the only reason he had been able to sit in the CEO's chair was because I had guaranteed him. The moment I left, every ounce of power in his hands would be revoked. His good days were officially over.

I was a princess ennobled by my father, the late king. Marrying the general of the northern frontier, Griffin Quenell was already a great show of royal favor. On my wedding day, just as my royal carriage arrived at the Quenell family’s courtyard, a woman dressed in grey wool knelt before the castle gate. She held a swaddled infant in her arms. Griffin, as the groom of the day, dressed in his wedding tunic, blocked my path with a troubled expression. “Your Grace, Joan is someone I met in the borderlands. She bore me a son and now has no place to go. Please let her move in with me on this special occasion. You’ll be my first wife, and she’ll be my second wife. It’s all for the sake of the Quenell bloodline.” The guests at the gate erupted into commotion. His grandmother, Wilma Quenell, spoke firmly. “Your Grace, you were born into royalty. You certainly do not lack a title. However, Griffin is the only son the Quenell family has had in three generations. This child bears the Quenell name. We surely can’t make him an illegitimate child.” The border soldiers knelt and said in unison, “Your Grace, have mercy!” I looked down at the child in the swaddle, then at Griffin’s pleading gaze. I smiled, removed my coronet from my head, and placed it on the wedding table. Then, I turned and boarded my carriage. “General Quenell, I will not stop you from wanting an heir, but my late father’s decree said I am to be married, not given away as a gift. If your family cannot abide by his words, then I shall take the decree back with me.”

In the fourth year of her engagement to Mason Hart, Evelyn Ward still had not been able to marry him. The Hart family had produced officers for three generations, and marriages required approval from military headquarters. Yet every year, their marriage request was rejected. Until the fourth year, when Evelyn personally saw Mason alter the application. Only then did she realize that Mason had never intended to marry her at all.

After leaving Clark Stane, I married a billionaire. Just recently, he transferred all his personal assets to me. I tried saying no, but I could not reject his sincerity. He claimed that love was where money went. He wanted to give me the confidence not to rely on anyone for help. Even the asset transfer itself was to happen in Atila City, my hometown. Feeling resigned, I walked into the largest law firm in Atila City. Just as I was about to state the name I had used when I made my reservation, I suddenly heard annoyingly familiar mocking words. “Hey, aren’t you Yvonne? You’re the one who chased after Clark, weren’t you? Unfortunately for you, he’s engaged now.”

During the tenth year I had a crush on Ron, I was diagnosed with advanced stomach cancer. With a critically ill notice in hand, I stood at the door to the room where my former classmates gathered, and I heard Ron holding his crush and cooing at her, “Just ignore it. Willow has been bothering me for ten years. If there was even a possibility of us getting together, we would have done so a long time ago. Honestly, I would never like her. Even if she continues bothering me for another ten or twenty years, I still won’t like her.” My former classmates cheered, and Ron looked like he was about to kiss her. I stood at the door and cried so hard that I trembled, but I did not dare make a sound. Ron, I would not be able to bother you for another twenty years. I was about to die.

My wife, Charlene Everett, and I used to work in the same hospital. I was known for being a kind doctor as well as a passionate teacher, while she was known for being a smart, fiery, and protective professional. All was well for the both of us until Charlene started caring about a clumsy trainee doctor called Zachary Wordsworth. I underestimated their relationship until the day he made a grave medical error, and she threw me to the wolves to protect him from his own mistakes. Indeed, Zachary cut a patient's womb out of her body mistakenly. The patient committed suicide not long after finding out. To avoid him being disciplined by the hospital, Charlene had the nurse in charge modify the records to have me as the surgery’s lead doctor. The patient’s family thought I was the one at fault and sued me. Everyone cursed me for being an unqualified doctor. Netizens made a huge ruckus online and started pressuring the hospital director to fire me. Helpless and in pain, I confronted Charlene, but she casually said, “Zach can’t handle the responsibility of failing the surgery. You’re more experienced, so you’ll be able to weather this storm.” When I later stumbled upon Charlene tangled up with Zachary, I could only let out a bitter laugh. I thus decided it was time for me to stop being kind.

On the flight home, the plane starts shaking violently. Certain I'm about to die, I call my husband, Rhys Callahan, to say my last words. He hangs up on me, and his auto-reply flashes on the screen. "Driving. On my way to pick up Daphne." I've taken 86 flights in our five years of marriage. Every time I'm about to land, I ask him to come get me, and every time, the answer is the same. "Daphne's getting in too. I have to pick her up." He picks up Daphne Langston all 86 times. The lowest point comes during a rainstorm. I drag my suitcase through the downpour outside the terminal for two hours, unable to get a ride. When I call him, Daphne's voice comes through, laughing. "Oh, Rhys is helping me with my luggage right now. He can't come to the phone." Now the cabin fills with screaming and sobbing. The plane spirals out of control at cruising altitude, the left wing shearing away as flames light up the windows. My phone buzzes with a message from him. "Just picked Daphne up. What time do you land? I'll come get you." I stare at the screen and let out a bitter laugh. After five years, he's finally offering to pick me up. But fire swallows the plane as it plunges toward the ground. He doesn't know I'm no longer coming home.

When my daughter, Lily Gage, has a parent-teacher meeting going on, she requests that my wife, Melody Hutton, and I attend it. Yet, Melody doesn't inform me about the meeting. Instead, she takes her secretary, Benjamin Carter, to the meeting. After the meeting, Melody explains that she doesn't have the heart to interrupt me, seeing as I'm too busy with work. In order to maintain the peace of this family, I decide to endure Melody's shenanigans just this once. But one day, Lily has gotten into a fight with another student at school. By the time I arrive, I witness Benjamin dealing with the situation with Lily in his arms. After asking Lily's teacher for more information, I find out that Lily has actually changed an emergency contact. Apparently, she has filled in Benjamin's contact information in the father's column. Also, Melody has given her permission for Lily to make the change. At that moment, I've lost all interest in staying in this family. That night, I bring up divorce in front of Melody. She just smiles mockingly at me. "So, you want to get divorced just because Benjamin's an emergency contact now?" "That's right."

Jason Schwartz had been a close friend of my father's, despite the age gap. The year I met him, I was fearless, the kind of girl who thought nothing could touch her. I bit down hard on the hand he offered me. Jason just laughed. "You're adorable," he said. "Like a little wolf." On my 18th birthday, he shoved me onto the bed, his eyes red, as if he had been holding back for years. "Diana, I've finally waited long enough for you to grow up." He was the one who pulled me into that first flutter of desire, the one who led me across every line I wasn't supposed to cross. I grew into exactly the kind of girl he wanted. The day my father was hacked to death by his enemies, Jason took my hand and stepped into his place without hesitation. When I was pregnant, he brought home a girl covered in blood. "Diana, she's not like you. She's like wild grass, tough and stubborn." He said he admired wild grass. But he forgot something. He was the one who raised me into a rose that only knew the shelter of a greenhouse. Good thing I didn't need him anymore.

By the seventh year of my relationship with Vanessa McBride, she inherited everything her late sister, Rebecca Holloway, had left behind, including her brother-in-law, Derek Holloway. Every time Vanessa returned from Derek's room, she would hold me close and whisper softly, "Just wait a little longer, Grant. Once I give him a child, we'll finally have our wedding." It was the only condition her family had imposed for her to inherit the McBride legacy. In the six months after returning to the capital, Vanessa went to Derek's room regularly. At first, it was once a month. Then, once every few weeks. Eventually, it became almost every other night. And after six months of being alone every night until dawn, the news finally arrived. Vanessa was pregnant. But the announcement that followed shattered whatever hope I had left. She and Derek were getting married. "Daddy, is someone getting married?" Looking at the wedding decorations filling our home, I pulled my confused daughter into my arms. "Yes," I told her quietly. "Mom is marrying the person she loves. So it's time for us to move out too." What Vanessa never understood was that marriage was never what mattered most to me.

I've just received a text from my CEO wife, Cara Lavigne. Apparently, she's gone on another last-minute business trip again, so she can't accompany me to the funeral home. But soon, I see Cara's silhouette being captured in a photo, where she celebrates her assistant, Warren Stone's birthday with him in a work-related post he has just uploaded. The caption reads, "Thank you for the amazing cake, boss! I feel so happy to be able to celebrate my birthday!" I just smile calmly before leaving a like and a comment. "Happy birthday." My colleagues, on the other hand, start betting pools like mad to see what kind of tricks I'm going to pull this time in order to kick up a ruckus. Cara calls me immediately just to scold me. "Warren is just celebrating his birthday, so what's with the comment? He's a very sensitive person, you know! How is he going to survive in this company now that you've passive-aggressively humiliated him in that public post? "It's been barely two years since Warren joined this company, not to mention he doesn't have any friends! What's wrong with me celebrating his birthday with him, huh? People like you, who are born with silver spoons in their mouths, will never understand Warren's plight! "I want you to delete your comment right now! We'll talk more about this once I'm home! Your dad is already dead anyway, so you can just wait for a few more days before claiming his body!" I can only clench my fists tightly as I listen to Cara's heartless and nonchalant words. "No need for that." Once she is back, the divorce procedures will be done.

On the third day of my business trip out of state, someone new joined the group chat formed for my son's class. It had been quiet for weeks when she suddenly sent a voice message. I tapped it, and an unfamiliar woman's voice played through my phone. "Hello, everyone. I'm the new language teacher at the school, and I'm also Tony Gardner's mother. Looking forward to getting to know you all!" My whole body went cold. I opened the group member list and checked it over and over. My son's name was Tony Gardner, and she said she was Tony Gardner's mother. Then, who the hell was I? I immediately called my husband. "Did someone get added to the parent group by mistake?" He paused on the other end before he laughed it off like it was nothing. "Oh, probably just a mix-up. The school has so many kids. It's not unusual for kids to have the same names. What's the matter? Did something happen?" I kept my voice light and told him everything was fine. The second I hung up, I booked the next flight home and headed straight to my son's school.

My sister had struggled with severe depression for years, and the only thing that seemed to ease her pain was her dog, Toto, who had become her constant companion. But when her illness flared up again, Toto was nowhere to be found. Then, my husband, Lionel Cress's childhood sweetheart posted a picture of Toto on social media. [With her, it feels like you're here with me.] I lost it. I called Lionel in a frenzy, but despite being my sister's psychologist, he was completely indifferent. "Your sister has been sick for so long. How could she suddenly relapse just because Toto's gone for a few days?" When I rushed back home, I found my sister in the bathroom, her wrists cut. Later, Toto's body was discovered outside our building, with Lionel's gift to his childhood sweetheart—a ring—lying next to her. I buried both my sister and Toto, and left behind nothing but a divorce agreement. Lionel went crazy, desperately trying to find me.

The day my wife gave birth to my foster brother's child, my entire family waited tensely outside the delivery room. They were not concerned about whether Sheila Rogers would make it through labor safely. They were worried I might turn up and make a scene. My mother kept glancing at the elevator. "He won't try to come up the stairs, will he?" My father was on the phone with hospital security again and again. "Yes, about six foot three. Have you seen him?" My brother stayed coiled and ready, fists clenched. "If my brother causes trouble, I'll lay down my life to protect Sheila and my son." However, from the start of labor to the moment Sheila delivered safely and both mother and child were declared healthy, I never showed up. Reclining on the hospital bed, Sheila took out her phone and asked my mother to call me. "Tell Hank not to cause any trouble," she said calmly. "If he's willing to be the child's godfather, we can still live our lives together." She felt absolutely no guilt toward me. From her perspective, she had merely granted my parents their long-standing wish for a grandchild. What fault could there possibly be in that? What no one knew was that I had never planned to go to the hospital. At that very moment, I was training beneath the scorching sun. All for a single reason: in one month, I would deploy with my unit to Safrana on a peacekeeping mission. Once I left, there would be little chance of ever coming back.

My husband's ex got kidnapped with me. The guy gave him a choice. "Your ex or your wife. Pick one." Maverick didn't even flinch. He chose her and walked off. After that, hell broke loose. I got tortured till I died. Much later, Maverick decided I was worth remembering. Sent people to find me. Too late. I was already rotting in a dump.

Three years ago, my rich boyfriend, Steven Delaney, went into bankruptcy. He decided to break up with me so that he wouldn't drag me down. As I looked at his broken expression, I steeled my heart and ripped the overseas college application I had just received. "I'll stay with you. Together, we can rebuild your legacy." Everyone told me that I was nuts. Still, I decided to move into a damp basement room with Steven. After that, I took on a job out in the streets that allowed me to earn money the fastest, which was promoting beer to the customers. One day, when I'm delivering beer to the customers, one of them calls out to me. "Hey, this lady looks like you!" There are two screens being shown on a livestream, that's being replayed. The left screen shows me crouching at the doorway of the basement while washing shirts for Steven. It's so cold that my fingers have gone completely red. The right screen shows him all dressed up in a smart-looking suit. He has an arm wrapped around a beautiful and well-dressed woman, and they're both sitting in a luxury car. Steven smiles at the camera and says, "This is my third year lying to my girlfriend about my financial situation. Till now, she still hasn't realized the truth! She really is a pathetic idiot!" The live comments keep popping up on the side. "You really know how to make things interesting, Mr. Delaney! I can't believe you're capable of coming up with the whole 'pretending to be broke in order to test your girlfriend's humanity' act!" "What exactly is that lady aiming for, honestly? She's just someone who sells beer! Does she seriously think she's in a romance drama?" "Oh, this is hilarious! That penniless girlfriend of his is even washing underwear for him! The truth is, the underwear belongs to the Delaney family's household staff!"