สั้น Romance เรื่องและนวนิยาย

After being given a second chance at life, I made a deliberate choice to avoid Nevaeh Charlton entirely. When she enrolled at Brookshire University, I left the country and went to study in Hollandia instead. When she followed me there, I disappeared again—this time, chasing war zones across continents as a field reporter, always just out of her reach. Years passed. In the end, I returned home with the woman I loved, ready to marry her and begin a new life together. On the day of our wedding, Nevaeh was stopped outside the venue. Her eyes were rimmed red, and her voice was unsteady. "Why don't you love me anymore?"

In the last six months, I have been away for work. But when I come home, I find out that my wife, Vanessa Hudson, is now three months pregnant. She insists that she hasn't been cheating on me. But her ex-boyfriend's post online tells a different story. Harold Quinton writes, "Thank you, Vanessa, for fulfilling my dream of becoming a father. You've worked so hard through ovulation, egg retrieval, and implantation, mother of my child." Harold has a very severe case of erectile dysfunction. The moment I find out my wife has gotten pregnant with another man's test tube baby, I feel bitter inside. I dial my boss' number and say to her, "I'm willing to take on the overseas general manager position that you offered me previously." Then, I turn to Vanessa and say, "Let's get a divorce."

Over Labor Day weekend, my workaholic husband finally agreed to take our two kids on a beach vacation. I was out on the water with my son, Blake Warren, when the ocean surface suddenly exploded with 99 towering columns of water. Blake nearly tumbled into the sea from the shock, screaming as he clung to me desperately. From a yacht not far away came the cheers of my husband, Zachary Warren, and his secretary, Celeste Quinn. I gripped my phone tightly and called him. "Zachary, have you lost your mind? Stop this right now! Blake is here too!" Yet, he only sneered. "You wouldn't let Celeste come on this trip, and she's been upset for days because of it. She got her feelings hurt, so I have to make it up to her somehow. Besides, it'd be better if that bastard son of yours just died anyway. Then, he ordered someone beside him, "Fire 50 more torpedoes. Teach her a lesson she won't forget." Before he had even finished speaking, wave after wave of water columns erupted around my boat. As Blake was about to fall into the water, I screamed with every ounce of strength I had left. "Zachary! Stop this now! This is your own son, Blake!"

My parents set me up on a marriage match—and it turned out to be my girlfriend, Chloe. I was hyped. I went straight to the luxury boutique where she worked, ready to tell her. Then I stopped outside the VIP room. "Chloe, if you're dumping him, just do it. Why fake cancer? You're putting bad juju on yourself." "What do you know? A dead ex sticks forever. Next week, I'm getting engaged to a Remington. Having an ex like me? That's his win." Inside, her friends hyped her up. Laughter all around. I just stood there, cold spreading through me. Three years. A joke to her. She was trading up—and still playing me one last time. I clenched my jaw and called my mom. "Mom, cancel the engagement... No rush. I'll handle it myself."

I was two hours late the day we went to see the wedding apartment. By the time I rushed over, Serena Dupree had already signed the purchase agreement and was leaning her head against Ryan Hale's, deep in discussion about the renovation. They'd gone from debating a gaming room to a nursery, and now they were arguing over whether the master bathroom needed a bathtub. Nearby, a middle-aged couple watched with amused smiles and teased Ryan. "You two are clearly decorating a newlywed home, young man. In a marriage, the husband listens to the wife." Ryan coughed, awkward, and glanced at Serena, whose face had gone faintly pink. "Fine, fine, whatever she wants." I stood a little way off, watching Serena and Ryan go back and forth, settling every detail of my own future home between the two of them. The three of us had grown up together. When we were kids, they were the ones who decided which school I'd attend, then let me know afterward. When we grew older and Serena and I started dating, they were the ones who picked the restaurant for every date, the destination for every trip, and told me where we were going. This time, even the wedding apartment, apparently, all I had to do was wait for them to tell me. Over the years, I'd turned into the shadow of the two of them. A shadow doesn't get a voice. It just keeps its head down and follows along. But even a shadow gets tired. Even a shadow can stop dead on some overcast day and refuse to take one more step forward.

On the day of our engagement, my fiance, Adrian Kinsley, and I are just about to exchange rings. His adopted younger sister, Sarah Nott, suddenly rushes onto the stage and exclaims, "She starred in porn movies, did you know that? How can you marry such a tainted woman?" All of our guests gasp in surprise. At first, everyone thinks it's some kind of prank. But in the next second, Sarah plays a video on the big screen and says, "The woman is quite the celebrity. She shoots more than 60 films a year, and her starting rate is 2,000 dollars per film." I stare at the face in the video that looks almost identical to mine. I'm stunned, as I'm the daughter of a crime boss with a fortune worth hundreds of billions. I casually hand out millions to my subordinates as rewards. Sell my body for 2,000 dollars? I have to be out of my mind to do that.

When I stepped aside and handed the starting spot on the esports team to the guy Zara Moody had always loved, she saw how obedient I had been and moved our wedding up as a reward. But at the ceremony, the man she could never forget suddenly pulled out a knife and cut himself, jealousy burning in his eyes. "Please don't marry him!" Zara, who was usually so calm, instantly lost her composure. She turned to me, panic written all over her face as she begged me to help save him. Every guest in the room was watching, waiting to see how I would react. I didn't argue or cause a scene. Instead, I quietly stepped aside and gave up the groom's place. When Zara saw how reasonable I was, just like always, her eyes reddened at the corners. "I promise this is the last time I'll ever put you through something like this. After the ceremony, we'll go register our marriage." What she forgot was that this was the 96th time she had hurt me. And I had no intention of spending the rest of my life with her. I was only waiting for three more promises. Once I repaid the debt I owed her for saving my grandmother's life all those years ago, I would walk away from her for good. After that, we would never see each other again.

After I get abducted to Paradise Island, I've attempted escape twice so far in order to avoid becoming the rich's plaything. The first time I get caught, on that very same night, I receive a video of my fiancee, Lucille Hoffman, getting torn into pieces by a school of piranhas. The second time I get caught, my older sister, Edith Cox, whom I've relied on since I was young, gets mutilated by the kidnappers on a cruise ship. Driven by despair, I agree to bind myself to a system. "As long as you earn enough points, you can revive your lover and your sister." From that day onward, I shed my pride and ego. I allow the electrified collar to dig deep into my neck. I keep getting tormented time and again until I lose consciousness. After undergoing yet another organ transplant that's forced onto me, I stare at the points, which are enough for me to revive Lucille and Edith. That's when a trace of hope emerges from my heart. Just as I'm about to hit the "confirm" button with a trembling finger, I hear a burst of laughter coming from a corner. "That idiot actually thinks he's bound to a system! He's still working hard to gather points just to revive his sister and his fiancee! Little does he know that Paradise Island, their deaths, as well as the system, are all big fat lies!" "I know, right? The rich really have a way of grooming people, huh? Apparently, Ms. Cox and Ms. Hoffman faked their deaths and created a fake system for this guy just because he had slapped Mr. Trenton back then and refused to apologize to him or admit his mistake. That's why they put on this act in order to teach him a lesson and make him yield to them." "Shh! Drop this topic for now! Ms. Cox and Ms. Hoffman are here to check on the training progress…" I feel as though I've plunged into an icy abyss. My ears begin ringing from shock and disbelief. That's when the poison I've taken in advance starts kicking in. Before I know it, blood begins streaming down the corner of my mouth uncontrollably. Just as my vision is going dark, someone kicks the door open.

I'm an orphan too broke to even cover my own college tuition. But I happen to have the exact same face as Cassandra Ashford, heiress to one of the richest families in the city! The young lady sitting across from me, the one wearing my face, slapped a bank card down on the table. "Sixty grand for living expenses. Another three hundred thousand once the job's done." She wanted me to take her place at a business school. The goal: to blow up her arranged marriage to her fiance, Julian Sinclair. Cassandra said she hadn't laid eyes on the guy since she was seven, so I could go ahead without a worry. She was off to chase true love. I thought about the old director lying gravely ill in the hospital, and the orphanage that was one bad month away from shutting down. I said yes without a second's hesitation. What I never saw coming was the first day of school. Riding my rented city bike, I plowed straight into the car of the guy showing up to enroll on the same day: Julian Sinclair. The window rolled down, revealing a face so gorgeous it should have been illegal. Julian stared at my face and let out a cold scoff. "Cassandra." "Haven't seen you in over a decade, and you've already learned to fake a fender-bender for cash?"

The day I remarried Caitlyn Sullivan, the fake heir set my adoptive mother on fire and left her face burned beyond recognition. The moment I called the police, I was knocked unconscious. When I opened my eyes again, Caitlyn had personally replaced my face and made me take the blame for the fake heir. Three years later, on the day I was released from prison, Caitlyn's legal team was on standby around the clock. If there was even the slightest sign of revenge from me, they were ready to send me to a psychiatric hospital for another three years. My daughter even used money I had given her to build a 99-story safe house to hide the fake heir on the top floor. She named it Mason Tower. The fake heir was Mason Sheppard. They were terrified that I would hurt Mason in the slightest. But I disappeared from their lives as if I had never existed. The next time we met was in front of my food cart where I sold gourmet burgers. I lit the gas stove, casually wiped my oily hands on my apron, and skillfully sliced open buns. In a calm voice, I said, "A dollar for an extra egg, and two dollars for a spicy patty." Caitlyn's fingers trembled slightly. Her voice turned hoarse. "I'm allergic to eggs. Our daughter can't eat spicy food." She paused. "Did you forget?" I didn't need to remember. I only needed to remember that after selling 33 more burgers, I would have enough money to pay off the remaining balance for the grave next to my adoptive mother's.

I was getting married, but my boyfriend of five years did not know it yet. Lately, he had been driving a female coworker home every night and coming back late. She had a terrible memory and was always leaving things behind in his car. First it was earrings. Then adhesive bra inserts. Then intimate photos. One night, at midnight, she called to say she had left her allergy medication in his car. My boyfriend pulled his pants back on and rushed out the door to deliver it to her. Because of her, our wedding had already been postponed 19 times. After five years together, I decided to give him one last chance. "Either stop driving her home, or the wedding is off." He stayed silent all night. After that, he actually started coming home on time. I thought things were finally getting better. Then, one week before the wedding, I opened the front door and found half the furniture in our living room gone. The woman next door poked her head out and ran a hand over my washing machine with a smile. "Amanda, we're neighbors now. Ignatius loaned me the money to buy a house. He said I could use some of these old appliances until I get settled." My hands trembled as I opened my banking app. The $300,000 wedding fund we had spent five years saving was gone. Every last cent. This time, I did not even have the strength to argue. Then my mother called. "Sweetheart, how would you feel about moving the wedding to Rose Garden? I think your current venue doesn't do you justice." I looked around the half-empty living room and laughed. "Sure. And while we're at it, let's replace the groom too." After all, my mother had remarried into one of the wealthiest families in the country. My five stepbrothers had been waiting years for me to come home. And among the men around them who wanted to marry me? There was no shortage of candidates.

My daughter, Nora Tyler, has congenital heart disease. When her disease relapses once again, I scoop her into my arms and travel to the hospital on foot on a rainy night. By the time I reach the hospital, I accidentally see the note my husband, Lionel Tyler, has left for the doctor. "I don't care what you do, be it dragging the time out to kill Nora or failing to save her life. No matter what, Nora isn't allowed to leave the hospital alive! "Chloe's due date is almost here. I want you to pay more attention to her. Only her child has the right to become the first child of the Tyler family." I can only stare at the note with bloodshot eyes. At that time, the medical staff has already wheeled Nora out from the ER. A white sheet can be seen draping over her body. When I was still pregnant with Nora, Lionel had taken leave for two years just to take care of me. He truly viewed me as the apple of his eye back then. After I gave birth to Nora, he even purchased an island and named it after her. My favorite gardenias filled every inch of that island. The Lionel who once refused to take any other woman but me as his wife and had prioritized me more than his own life… is also the same man who has personally killed his own daughter just because his first love, Chloe Meyer, is pregnant. My heart has officially died. After leaving a divorce agreement behind, I go home and inherit my family business. Now, Lionel can never hope to reach me ever again.

After my dad's 70th birthday banquet is over, I receive a phone call from my husband, Daniel Hayes, out of the blue. "This is bad, honey! The investor of my company suddenly fled after embezzling all of the company's funds! I need to fly overseas and tide this crisis out for the time being. You mustn't contact me at all for now!" All traces of sleep vanishes instantly. I make sure to tell Daniel to stay safe. After ending the call, I call the bank right away and have them freeze Daniel's cards on the spot. My dad is the investor of Daniel's company, after all. Right now, he's sleeping in the room next door because of how drunk he has gotten at the banquet. I'm interested in finding out just how Daniel manages to file for bankruptcy in the first place.

I foolishly endured five rounds of IVF, suffered through endless pain, and nearly died from severe prenatal hemorrhaging before finally giving birth to the first grandson of the Newton family, all because Bryce told me that we would get married once the baby was born. However, Bryce publicly took his first love, Selina, by the hand on the day of the baby shower and announced with a smile, "Thank you all for coming for Selina and my child." At that moment, I froze at the top of the staircase. When he spotted me, he walked over with a smile and said, "I knew I couldn't keep this hidden forever, so I thought it would be better to tell you now while the baby's still young." Then, he raised his glass toward me as if he were negotiating a business deal. "You got pregnant before marriage, so everyone looks down on you. Plus, your parents have disowned you. You have nowhere else to go. Don't worry. You can keep raising the child, but Selina would be the child's legal guardian. "You'll come with me to the City Hall to handle the registration tomorrow." He thought I would lose my mind and swallow my pride for the sake of my child. Instead, I quietly left and sought out the true heir of the Newton family, who had just returned from abroad. A few days later, my child and I were officially become members of Newton family. I became Bryce's stepmother on that same day. Naturally, my child became his younger brother. I had sole custody over my child, and that wasn't all. No, the best part of this deal was that the Newton family inheritance would eventually belong to me as well.

To fulfill his young girlfriend Wendy Baker's dream of becoming vice president, my husband faked amnesia after a car accident and used it as an excuse to strip me of my position. One afternoon, I happened to overhear a conversation between them. Wendy sounded hesitant as she asked, "Aren't you worried Elaine will never speak to you again if you do this?" My husband did not seem concerned in the slightest. "I'm only letting you have some fun for seven days," he said casually. "After that, I'll just tell her my memory came back. What's she going to do, hold a grudge against someone who was supposedly sick?" My footsteps slowed. I heard every word. However, instead of exposing his lie, I quietly walked away. The next day, during a company meeting, my husband slammed his hand on the conference table and publicly declared that Wendy was his wife. He demanded that I leave the company and hand over every project under my management. The entire room fell silent. Every employee turned to look at me, waiting for me to stop his absurd behavior, just as I always had before. However, this time, I did not argue. I did not defend myself. I simply picked up the resignation agreement and signed it. What he did not know was that the deadline for the company's most important project was only seven days away. More importantly, the client recognized only one person as the project's lead and sole point of contact—me. Seven days later, things would not go the way he had imagined. Instead of getting everything he wanted, he would find himself facing crushing financial penalties, lawsuits, and possibly even jail time.

On the first day of New Year's, my good buddy, Vincent Wales, sent me a video. “Leon, take a look. Does this woman look like your wife? It’s all over.” In the video, a man and a woman were making out passionately. As the car rocked violently, the woman’s face came into view. It was unmistakably my wife. My blood rushed straight to my head. My hands shook as I dialed her number. “Hello, honey… What’s the matter?” Her breathing was uneven, like she had just been doing something intense. I was about to speak when she suddenly let out a few loud cries. “A-Ah… It’s nothing. I’ll hang up now. I’m just playing cards with friends." With that, all I heard was the dial tone. Playing cards? She had clearly told me she was working overtime!

At the recording studio of a divorce reality show, when Logan Barnes, the superstar, catches a fallen headset for me, he subconsciously takes my hand and kisses it. The thing is, the livestreaming camera is still rolling. The kiss leaves the entire Internet in chaos. After all, I'm not Logan's ex-wife in this reality show. Everyone can't wait to see me break down and get jealous to the point that I'll keep pestering my actual ex-husband, Eddie Hancock. But right after the reality show is over, Logan and I become the most envied Internet couple.

In the middle of the night, my smurf account gets added into a group chat called "lucky draw group". The rule of the group chat is rather weird. Whoever gets their hands on the lucky draw that's titled "lucky winner" must reveal their deepest and most shocking secret. I intend to watch the entire drama at first. But that's when a female user named Evie Sachs suddenly posts in the group chat. "My husband has always thought that he's the children's actual father. The truth is, he's not." Everyone in the group chat is quick to spam the chat with laughing emojis. "Miss, you can't just come up with a story that far-fetched without any logic!" "That's a really ridiculous story! Do you seriously take for all men to be idiots?" "We demand photos as proof!" Evie uploads a few photos of her sleeping with other men as well as the dates of her children's birth. The moment I glance at the birthdays, my hand goes slack, causing the milk bottle to fall to the floor. My daughters actually share the same birthdays as Evie's children!

For the ninth time, my best friend was left at the altar. And for the ninth time, my fiance was dragged in to play the part of her pretend groom. I was holding two cups of coffee. Before I could knock on the dressing room's door, I heard my best friend purring at someone. "You're the best, Anton. You knew this was an act, but you played along anyway." My breath caught. Through the half-open door, I stole a glance inside. My fiance, who had always been cold and unreadable, was looking at my best friend as if she were the most precious thing in his world. "Getting left at the altar must've traumatized you. If I don't help you get over it, Emilia's going to be worried even if she marries me." My best friend tugged lightly at the hem of his shirt. "But this is going to affect your relationship with her." "Not like it's the first time. She's still with me. We're still a couple." My fiance took out a diamond ring and held it against my best friend's finger. "We've been together for ten years. She has no other choice, anyway." The summer heat was scorching, yet part of me felt frozen solid. Slowly, I took my phone out and dialed a certain number. "Hey, I'd like to show you what I look like in that wedding gown."

After seven years of marriage, my wife told me she would no longer share a bed with me. She said she was frigid. Once, after getting drunk, she ended up crossing that line with me. When she sobered up and realized what had happened, she locked herself in the bathroom and scrubbed herself clean for three days, sick with disgust the entire time. Later, she came back and demanded that I get a vasectomy if I wanted our dead bedroom to come back to life. I agreed, but I never went through with it. When her belly eventually began to show, the woman who had once worshiped the DINK lifestyle suddenly started looking forward to the arrival of that child. I told her I lied about the vasectomy. She said nothing about it, but for two weeks after that, I was beaten up, stripped and thrown at the company's entrance, kidnapped and strapped to a roulette while perverts enjoyed the show like I was a monkey. … By the time I escaped from the hospital, I was already barely holding on. Then I saw her lying in the arms of her old classmate, calmly ending the pregnancy. "I can't believe that bastard lied about the vasectomy," she said. "Just the thought that the baby might be his makes me sick. I'd rather not take the risk." That was the last straw. If she truly believed her body was nothing more than a graveyard, then I would make sure she got exactly what she wished for.