Short Romance Stories & Novels

On the company's designated monthly day off, Gigi Lott, Donald Hoover's secretary, posted an Instagram story. The caption read, "So what if you're the boss of me when we're at work during the day? At night, I'm the one on top!" In the photo, she was lying atop a water bed covered in rose petals, and the usually stern Donald was kneeling down to massage her feet for her. From his pocket hung a brand new golden necklace. Just that morning, I bought several gold bars and gave them to Donald while beseeching him to make our relationship public. He happily took the locket from me, but when I tried to take a photo of us with our phone, he smacked my phone out of my hands, smashing it into pieces. With a look of pure derision, he declared, "Why don't you take a good look at yourself in the mirror first? You really are a motherless wretch who wasn't raised right. Look at the lengths you'd go to just to ruin me!" Throughout the last five years, I had meekly gone along with his demand that we keep our relationship a secret, claiming it was because office romances were forbidden. But now, I was abruptly hit with the realization of how laughable it all was. The next day, I sent my father a message. "I admit defeat. I'm willing to come home and inherit the family business."

After Roman Archer and I broke up, he devoted himself to academic research. He had finally become successful. During a television interview, he looked just as confident and high-spirited as he had been back then. The host asked whom he most wanted to share this news with. After a brief silence, he called me. “Celeste, thank you for leaving me. My career is thriving now.” I smiled. “Congratulations, Mr. Roman.” He would never know that if I had not left, he would have died.

I had been married for seven years. My husband's nemesis kidnapped me and threatened my husband that they would kill me, yet he ignored it because his sweetheart had asked him to use this opportunity to subdue me and teach me a lesson so that I would give away my assets. The moment I escaped that hellhole, I asked my husband for a divorce, but he claimed his sweetheart tricked him and knelt before me to beg me not to leave.

The night before my wedding, I stumbled upon his old chat logs with his friends. "I've never met anyone so easy to fool." "You know she comes from a single-parent home, right? She’s desperate for love." "So, all I have to do is be a little nice to her, and she throws herself at me." I used to believed he had saved me from the depths of despair, but in the end, he played me for a fool. I thought I’d found love, but in the end, my sincerity was worth less than dirt.

What happens when the tormented female lead in a novel wakes up and decides to get together with the second male lead? Coincidentally enough, I'm transmigrated into the body of this tormented female lead!

Though Micheal loved me deeply, When he was deceived by Ruby's lies,He lost the ability to distinguish right from wrong. He believed that I had killed his grandfather for the inheritance and that I had slept with other men and was pregnant with that man's child.So he cruelly subjected me to humiliation again and again. When he personally pushed me into the abyss, all the love turned to ashes—never to return in this lifetime...

To help Sean pay off his high-interest loans, I sold my house. He hugged me tightly, crying, and promised to marry me on next year's Valentine's Day. It happened to be Valentine's Day when I paid off the last of his debt. However, what I saw shattered me—he was in bed with another woman. He arrogantly mocked me: "What are you staring at? You're not much different from her, are you? Go buy some rubbers for us." That's when it hit me—he had lied to me. Later, I agreed to marry the man my parents had chosen for me before they passed away. On the wedding day, Sean and his friends came to mock me: "Ella, do you think that I'll marry you if you just wear a wedding dress and follow me around? You're so shameless!" However, everything changed when the priest announced the exchange of rings. At that moment, as Sean's uncle knelt and placed the ring on my finger, I saw a flash of fear in Sean's eyes.

I break up with Ansel Wright when his enemies chase him for debt payment, and I start dating a rich man. Ansel says he loves me and begs me not to break up. He weeps and continues that he cannot live without me; I am in another man's arms as I pour whiskey on him and say scornfully, "Ansel, stop pestering me! I never want to hide with you and live without money again!" He leaves with a despondent look on his face. Six years later, he returns to Wall Street as a finance giant that everyone in New York takes notice of. The moment he gets back to the country, he brings his fiancée to show off to me, but he cannot find me, no matter how hard he tries, because I die the day he returns to the country.

The moment I opened the door, I never imagined that my fiancé would be in bed with my best friend, both of them wearing nothing. I went absolutely crazy and charged toward them, wanting nothing more than to kill the two of them. But my fiancé shoved me to the floor and, turning it around, blamed me instead. "Rosalind," he sneered, "if you hadn't been so self-righteous and refused to sleep with me, I wouldn't have cheated!" Fine. Since he no longer wanted me, I married his older brother. On the day of the wedding, I smiled at him and said, "Norris, guess what? I'm your sister-in-law now."

I was dumped because of my weight. My stepmother tried to comfort me, saying, "It's okay, it's okay. A little extra weight is good." I watched as my graceful sister took my place and married my fiancé. Meanwhile, I was sent abroad to be "fattened up like a pig." I barely escaped with my life and endured unimaginable hardships. Now, those who hurt me should, at the very least, face justice for their actions.

I was the real heiress in a case of a mistaken identity. Three months after my return, the imposter heiress disappeared.   My brother, Caleb Carter, accused me of jealousy, believing I had driven the fake heiress away. The disappointed look on my parents’ faces revealed their true thoughts.   I was confined in the basement, subjected to daily torture.   Even after my death, my family donated my brain to a research institution.   Later, I watched from heaven as my family broke down upon watching my memories.

I once thought that my and Sebastian Ford's love would last a lifetime. Yet, the man who claims to love me does everything possible to hurt me. He takes wedding photos with another woman and goes on vacation with her. They even sleep in the same room. When making love to me, he speaks to a friend in a foreign language. He tells the friend he will marry another woman but keep me bound to him with a fake marriage certificate.

The day I decided to file for divorce, Dean Potter couldn’t wait to draft the divorce agreement. Five years ago, he had been forced to marry me, and now he was finally free. On the day we were finalizing the divorce, Dean arrived with his new flame, radiating delight mixed with a hint of mockery. “Veronica Byrd, look at you—you’re miserable.” I watched his figure fade into the distance, my vision blurring. Miserable? In the next life, it wouldn't happen again.

I found out I was pregnant in the middle of a fight with my husband. How should I tell him without embarrassing myself too much? I decided to ask the Internet, and the netizens gave me a ton of advice based on their years of experience reading novels. One, run away with your unborn baby. Two, pretend to gag over lunch. Three, put his number into the abortion registration form… When he came to me in a frenzy, I belatedly realized, ‘Crap, I think I went too far!’

After three miscarriages for Xavier Lowe, I see it—my mother-in-law has three years left, my father-in-law nine years, and my sister-in-law two years. I say nothing. After the third miscarriage, my mother-in-law blames me, calling me a curse who "kills" children. My sister-in-law sneers, saying she almost died in a car crash the year I married Xavier—as if my bad luck dragged her down. My mother-in-law snaps, "She can't even keep a child. It must be because she's cursed!" Xavier just stands there, silent. He doesn't say a single word for me. I know that, deep down, he believes that I bring bad luck. Maybe it's also because he already has someone else—his secretary, Yvette Snyder. His mother has always liked her better, and he clung to her the night I lost my third child. I don't explain because I know the truth will only destroy them faster. On my 28th birthday, I catch a glimpse of my own countdown in the mirror. On that day, I take a leave of absence. I go to the funeral home and pick out an urn—pure white, just like the wedding dress I once wore. Wearing a beautiful floral dress, I text Xavier, asking him to meet me at the lake where we first met ten years ago. I wait from daylight until nightfall as my countdown ticks to zero. I die, and he never shows up.

Abductors bind me in a basement, subjecting me to the torment of dozens. Meanwhile, my husband, Evan Foster, dines by candlelight with his lover, Carmen Locke. My abductors grant me one chance to call for help, and I dial Evan's number. I'm certain he will come for me. I believe Evan would give his life for me, as he once vowed that his future held no meaning without me. Clinging to hope, I call the number etched in my heart. However, Evan scolds me for interrupting their date. "You think I'll come get you? Dream on. Maybe I'll bother to collect your body if you die out there." His words crush me, and I do die. Five days later, Evan stands before the autopsy table, grimacing at the mangled remains before him. Even as the police department's finest forensic expert, having dissected thousands of bodies, he condemns the killer's brutality. Yet, despite his cold dismissal of my desperate plea over the phone, he now wears a look of pity. Evan, if you knew these fragments belonged to me, would you still find me worthy of your compassion?

Two years ago, I was one of the Disease Control Agency's best researchers. But while I was investigating a batch of virus samples with unsequenced genetic codes, my husband's true love burned me to death. She poured rubbing alcohol over the virus samples she accidentally dropped and rendered me unconscious with diethyl ether. Then, she set the lab on fire and burned everything to a crisp. When the agency's other employees led the firefighters to the scene, she cried and claimed I'd stolen the virus samples after colluding with an unknown organization. A month later, an odd and aggressive virus spread throughout the city, leading to countless deaths. My husband, Ethan Carter, denounced and severed ties with me before getting together with his true love. The whole city turned on me, crying for my blood. Everyone said I was a spy from an external power. That changes when three daring high school students accidentally stumble upon the cordoned-off lab. They discover my charred body inside.

The boy, George Larson, whom I once saved as a child, when he was struggling with asthma, repaid my kindness by imprisoning me for seven long years. "Luna, you're my everything. I won’t let you out of my sight," he said, his voice filled with obsession. He tied my hands and feet, keeping me bound to the bed like a helpless doll, but I did not love him; I wanted to escape. In his madness, he set fire to my family’s ancestral home. The last traces of the Sachs burned to ashes, disappearing into the wind. He said that since my home was gone, I could just live with him and that it would be my new home. However, because I refused to let him touch me, he found someone else—a girl with a beauty mark under her eye, just like mine. The girl, drunk on his affection, thought I was trying to imitate her by faking the same tear-shaped mark. In a fit of jealousy, she gouged out my eyes. My face was covered with tiny, bleeding holes, blood streaming down my body. When George came home, the girl gleefully stuffed me into a trash bag, proud of her handiwork. “George, look! I caught some trash that broke into the house!” George did not even glance at me. He just loosened his tie, his voice calm and detached. “Just toss it where trash belongs.”

To cheer up his pretty assistant, my boyfriend brought her to attend a party. I had to bail him out after he was arrested by the police. The charge? Public indecency after consuming illegal substances. When I arrived at the police station to pick him up, he was still trying to comfort his assistant, paying no heed to the possibility that I might have seen the lipstick marks on his neck. After seeing that I wasn’t saying anything, my boyfriend assumed I was upset and explained impatiently, “Winnie was in a terrible mood that day, and I was just there to keep her company. We didn’t take part in any public indecency! It was the other guests who were messing about!” What a terrible excuse. If it was any other day, I wouldn’t be this calm. This time was different. I will no longer press him for answers like a mad woman. As I walked past the police station entrance, an officer looked at my boyfriend and his assistant, who were still all over each other. With eyes full of sympathy, he asked me, “Your partner?” I glanced at my boyfriend, whose focus was entirely fixated on Winnie, and shook my head. “No, just an acquaintance.” At that moment, Winnie was leaning against him, seeking his comfort. I pulled out my phone and texted my dad silently. “I agree to marry President Lee. I’ll leave the wedding preparation to you guys.” “I’ll be back in five days.”

At the award ceremony, my fiance, Allen Walter, pulled his mistress on stage and publicly announced their relationship when he presented me with an award.. "Out with the old, in with the new. Just a man," I shrugged. My parents were furious. "Pull our investments and end all cooperation," they said furiously. My sister chimed in, "We'll retrieve the copyright. I would rather let it sit idle than sell it to them!" Allen panicked and came to apologize, but I waved him off dismissively. "Someone like you is not even worth talking to."