Short Romance Stories & Novels

Elena Jones and I became orphans on the same day. Her parents are killed in a mass murder, and my father—the killer—is executed on the spot. For a month straight, Harborfield's most notorious playboy waits outside the courthouse, intent on keeping Elena. However, she throws his black card right back at him, like a headstrong heroine straight out of a movie. "The Mr. Carter I admire is refined and noble. How could he have a nephew like you? I'd rather starve than accept anything from a thug." He lets out a sharp, amused laugh and crooks a finger at me. "A death row convict's daughter and a thug make a fitting pair. I'll back you. Are you willing?" While clutching the ten-million-dollar IOU my father left behind, I nod without hesitation. Later, he orders me to get into his uncle Daniel Carter's bed. "With all that sin on your shoulders, you're an even better match for him. That way, Elena will finally give up on him for good."

Late in my pregnancy, my husband, Joshua Jaxson’s ex-wife returned.  Olivia Wylde cornered me at my doorstep and, without a word, launched into a brutal attack.  She insisted I was an intruder who had taken advantage of her absence to steal her place. I pleaded, explaining I wasn’t a mistress, but she refused to believe me.  Together with her supporters, she tore my home apart and beat me so viciously that I went into premature labor.  Blood pooled beneath me, and my consciousness began to slip, but she greeted my husband’s arrival with a radiant smile.  “Honey,” she said, “I’m back. Let’s get remarried!”

My best friend and I grow up together, and we each have our childhood friends. When we're old enough, we marry our childhood friends. One is a doctor, and one is a firefighter. We even fall pregnant one after the other. During our pregnancies, we go out for a stroll. Suddenly, I'm rammed over, and I fall into the river. My best friend miscarries after trying to save me, and my child dies in my belly, too. I call my husband. However, he roars, "Cass is in danger; I have to save her first! Stop bothering me!" My best friend is also reprimanded by her husband. After giving birth to the dead fetuses, we both decide to get divorced. However, the two men weep and beg us not to leave.

After eight years of marriage, I finally get pregnant with Claude Frey's child. It's my sixth round of IVF, and my last chance. The doctor says I can't put my body through it again. I'm overjoyed, ready to share the good news with him. But a week before our anniversary, I received an anonymous photo in the mail. In it, he was bending down to kiss another woman's pregnant belly. That woman is his childhood sweetheart, the one his family watched grow up. She's gentle and well-mannered, and the kind of daughter-in-law every parent dreams of. The funniest part is that his entire family knows about her pregnancy, except me. I'm just the punchline in their joke. It turns out that the marriage I've been holding together despite all my wounds is nothing but a carefully crafted lie. Fine. I don't want Claude anymore, and I'll never let my child be born into a world built on lies. I book my ticket to leave on our eighth anniversary. It's also the very day he's supposed to take me to see the sea of roses. Before we got married, he promised me a sea of flowers all my own. But instead, I find him in front of the rose garden, kissing his pregnant childhood sweetheart. After I leave, he starts searching for me everywhere. "Don't go, please?" he begs. "I was wrong. Don't leave." He finally remembers the promise he'd made to me and plants the most beautiful roses in the world in that garden. But I don't need it anymore.

Back in the day, in the legal world, Finn Cross and I were the top dogs. Untouchable. He ran New York, a king in criminal defense, never lost a case. I held down Boston, crushing it in civil court. People in the biz used to say it was a good thing we weren't in the same city. If we were, we’d have gone head-to-head, and it was anyone's guess who'd come out on top. But they never would've guessed. Three years ago, I, Victoria Sterling, quietly married Finn Cross. And just like that, the legend of "Vicky" was locked away. I was willing to leave my career behind, to be the quiet, supportive woman behind the great man. I made his coffee, went with him to all sorts of events, and left a light on for him when he came home late. But when Elena, the one he’d always carried a torch for, showed up again, I couldn't keep up this charade anymore.

How long does it take to give up on a man you've loved for ten years? It takes me 3 seconds. The first second, I signed my name on the contract to become the chief designer of a renowned studio in Paris. The second second, I lock away ten years of my youth in my heart. The third second, I completely prepare to leave Levi's world. My fiancé Levi is the heir of the Smith Group, the absolute aristocracy. For others, he is untouchable. But for me, he's the childhood sweetheart who, with a crooked paper ring he made himself for the first time in his hand, told me, "You're the only girl I'll ever marry, even if I have to wait a hundred years." From that moment on, the only person I wanted to marry was Levi, and I never doubted that I would eventually marry Levi. But on the day of our engagement, he disappeared. I waited for a whole year, waiting for a message, a phone call, or a knock on the door, but nothing came. Later, he finally appeared. He stood next to a red Ferrari, holding flowers, and said that he still loved me, that he wasn't ready before, and begged me to give him another chance. I almost believed him. But at the same time, I received a provocative message from Levi's first love, Ruby: [Aren't you curious where he went during the time he eloped from your engagement? I'm already pregnant with Levi's child, and he loves kissing my pregnant belly the most.] I wiped away my tears, turned around, and applied to study in the Sorbonne University Faculty of Medicine, leaving only one sentence: "Levi, we're breaking up." Learning that I was leaving, Levi went crazy. He braved the heavy rain and blocked the entrance to my new place, his eyes red, asking me: "Stella, if I make Ruby abort the child, can you come back to me?"

My three older brothers, Marcus, Jeremy, and Andrew Graham love me to the moon and back. Marcus clumsily practices peeling apples for me when I lie on a hospital bed. Jeremy blushes as he buys sanitary pads and prepares a warm drink for me when I have my period. Andrew spends all his pay to buy me new clothes and even declares, "Whoever bullies you will pay the price." He isn't shy to express his brotherly love for me. I once believed that my life would stay happy like this forever. However, my adopted sister, Mackenzie Falk, accuses me of swapping the graduation thesis she has been working on for three years. I suffer a heart attack on the spot.

When I died with a smile on my face, right before my brother's eyes, he looked as if the anguish might tear him apart. Yet, for twenty-one years, he hadn't stopped wishing I would meet this exact end. It all traced back to my fifth birthday—the day I had innocently hoped our parents would come home from their business trip to celebrate with me. They rushed back that night but never made it. A car accident took both their lives. From that moment on, my brother resented me, despised me. He didn't just stand idly by as our cousin snatched up my work as her own; he encouraged it. And when my landlord threw me out, it wasn't a random cruelty—it was my brother pulling the strings. All he had ever wanted, from the very beginning, was to see me die a miserable death. But when he finally got his wish… why did he cry, pleading for me to come back, begging me to call him 'brother' one last time?

I fall for Asher Kline, the son of Mom and Dad's sworn enemy, and chase him for three years. When we finally start dating, our private life becomes full of debauchery. From tents and luxury cars to lounges and studies, any place that offers privacy and a thrill becomes ours. We push into every advanced position we can manage, filming plenty of steamy videos along the way. Then one day, I overhear him chatting with his best friend. "Aren't you taking it too far, using Rhea to get back at her parents? Maybe you should drop it and find another way." "No. I'm sticking with it. When the time comes, I'll leak those videos of us. Those two old farts will be so furious that they'll choke on their own rage. That's exactly what I want." "But you've been with her so long. Don't you feel anything for her?" "No. I only approached her to get revenge and destroy her family's company." I'm crushed when I realize his so-called love is filled with nothing but payback and scheming. But when I walk away and am about to marry someone else, he falls apart and begs me to forgive him.

While pregnant with twins, I'm abducted three days before I'm due to give birth. My husband, Sheldon Jackson, refuses to deliver the ransom money himself. Instead, he wants to save Madison Smith, his sister-in-law, who was also taken at the same time. In order to guarantee Madison's safety, he leaves the task of saving me to someone else. "I have to protect my brother's unborn child. Harry is my most trusted subordinate. He'll definitely bring you back home safely!" However, Sheldon doesn't know that Harry Smith wants me dead. "The children she's carrying are bastards!" he says to the abductors. "We can't let them live—both the twins and the woman." I beg the abductors to let me talk to Sheldon one more time to reveal the truth, but he hangs up on me because of Madison. When he finally remembers me, he receives a phone call from the abductors. "We've dealt with your wife for you, Mr. Jackson."

I spiked the drink of Daniel Falkner, Belcaster's big shot, three years ago. After that night of madness, he doesn't punish me. Instead, he takes my waist in his hands and drives into me until my legs go weak, calling me "princess", again and again. But just as I'm about to confess, Serena Jarman, the woman he never gets over, returns. For her sake, he lets me get hit by a car, makes me watch Mom's keepsake get left to a stray, and even throws me into jail with his own hands. By the time I'm shattered and boarding a flight to Velport to marry someone else, Daniel is tearing Belcaster apart just to find me.

After a decade of chasing Carter Worthington, I'm finally worn out. Letting go of my unrequited love, I choose to embrace the man who has quietly loved me all along. His name is Eli Loxley. Not only is he a skilled surgeon, but he's also Carter's stepbrother. Although Eli spent his childhood living in Carter's shadow, he's the one who has captured my heart. On the night I accept his heartfelt confession, he lights up the entire Marrowfield sky with fireworks. He even buys a private island by the sea, where he proposes beneath a blanket of stars. I believe this is the start of my happiness. But before our wedding, Eli disappears without a trace. I end up finding him on a private yacht on the Redridge River, laughing and chatting with his friends. "The only reason I pursued Anya was to get back at Carter. "She's only enticing when she's out of reach. After sleeping with her, I realized she's nothing special. "Marriage isn't what I'm after. But using it for payback? Now that's the real temptation, wouldn't you agree?" I don't shed a tear. I slip the ring off my finger and toss it aside. On the day of the wedding, the venue would stand empty. The entire city of Oakmont would mock it. After everything, I've decided to be the one who runs away as well. But why is the one who didn't love me then now frantically pleading for me to return? I'm afraid this chapter has closed. I won't turn back.

"Ms. Longstaff, are you saying the wedding will proceed as planned, but the bride will be replaced with someone else? Is that correct?" Faced with the staff member's puzzled expression, Heather Longstaff nodded without hesitation. "Yes, the wedding will take place in two weeks as scheduled. I'll deliver the revised materials to you in the next few days." "Understood. Should I inform Mr. Bennett about—" "There's no need!" Heather cut the other person off, her voice sharp with emotion. Noticing the startled look on the staff member's face, she quickly composed herself and explained, "He's busy. All wedding-related matters should come directly to me from now on." This wedding was meant to be her final gift to Mitchell. And like any gift, it had to remain a surprise until the very last moment.

I'm one of the entertainment industry's most popular celebrities. One day, the Holmes family, the richest family in Hemmingville, comes to me and tells me I'm one of them. The day I return home, the city's paparazzi follow me to capture every second of my return. When I arrive at the Holmes residence, my adoptive sister stops me from entering. "We've looked into you and found out that you shot to fame after starring in an adult film. "The Holmes family has its rules—you have to change your clothes in public before you can step foot in here. Dad said that I'm the one who calls the shots when he and Jason aren't at home, so I hope you can understand me." In my past life, I would've acted cautiously and adopted a lowly stance for the sake of my image. But I've been reborn. I kick aside the things in my way and shove Nancy Holmes aside. "How ridiculous! You'd better stop and think whether you're worthy of telling me what to do. How dare you ask me to strip in public? "I'm insured from head to toe—you can't afford to pay me back if you even touch a hair on my head! And you call yourself the heiress of the family, huh? I'd like to see you grovel at my feet and beg me later!"

When a kidnapper forces my husband, Liam Waltz, to choose between saving me and our son, he sacrifices me without a second thought. I'm pushed off the cliff, but somehow, I survive. Still, I have lost all my memories. Liam looks absolutely devastated in front of the media. He holds a public funeral for me, only to marry a woman who looks exactly like me a year later—Clara Brown. Four years pass before my memories return. I return to Ardenix, hoping to see my son, Lucas, only to find that he now sees Clara as his mother. And Liam? After four years of thinking I was dead, he only cares about protecting her. "You were gone for four years. I thought you were dead. You didn't think I'd be widowed forever, did you? I'm now the CEO of a publicly traded company. "I can allow you to stay home, but you can't ever show your face in public. After all, Clara is now my legal wife." Instead of heartbreak, all I feel is relief. During those four years of amnesia, I married the one and only heir of Hurrix Corporation.

Our daughter was diagnosed with a genetic illness. To save her, my husband founded a charity in her name. To raise the funds, he pushed himself to the brink—working three hundred days straight, surviving on three hours of sleep a night. His relentless drive moved countless people. The media hailed him as "Father of the Year." Everyone congratulated me on having such a devoted partner. Then came the day he rallied the entire nation, securing pledges for millions in donations to fund our daughter's cure. At the gala, with over ten million dollars moments from being transferred, I suddenly hit the pause button. "And now, we'll take a brief intermission for a signing," I announced. The room erupted. They shouted at me, called me selfish, a monster. My husband stared at me, utterly stunned. "Have you lost your mind? Children around the world are waiting on this money to survive! What in God's name are you talking about?" I lifted my gaze to meet his. "A divorce agreement."

I was married to my husband for ten years, but our relationship had long been a façade. In front of his family, he acted like the perfect husband, keeping up appearances. Behind my back, he would have an affair with Mindy Benson, seeking excitement. One day, while I was working at the hospital, my husband brought Mindy here for a prenatal checkup. “The baby is already eight months along. Where is the father?” “Tyler, the doctor is asking for you.” Mindy clung to him, and the two looked like quite a pair. Our eyes met, and I managed a bitter smile. This time, I would no longer go along with the charade.

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."

Thor and I grew up together—we were the definition of childhood sweethearts. We'd promised to attend the same university, graduate, and marry right after senior year. Everyone envied us. They said we were a perfect match, destined for a lifetime together. And I believed that too. I truly thought I'd spend the rest of my life with him. Until the final semester of our senior year in high school, when a new transfer student named Lina joined our class. At first, the two barely spoke. But as they grew familiar, their bond deepened in ways I could no longer ignore. He started staying after school to tutor her, bringing her breakfast every morning. When she was upset, he'd take her for a drive along the coast. If she craved Italian steak, he'd have fresh cuts flown in. Even during her period, he'd quietly prepare everything she needed. I was furious. I confronted him, argued with him, and even threatened to break up. The first time I said it, he thought I was joking and coaxed me out of my anger. The second time, he dismissed it as another tantrum and tried different ways to please me. The third time, he broke down—standing outside my house in the pouring rain all night, half kneeling before me, begging for forgiveness. Again and again, I tried to leave, and every time, he refused to let me go. Yet with each reconciliation, something in him shifted. He started taking me for granted, assuming I would always come back. His patience wore thin. His apologies turned perfunctory. Even when he came to make peace, there was no sincerity left in his voice. So I said it for the hundredth time, and that was the last. That was the moment I finally gave up on him.

"Mom, Dad, I've made up my mind. I'll go back and take over the family business." When Jaycie Stanton's parents heard that she had finally agreed, they were overjoyed on the other end of the phone. However, thoughts of her hidden identity and the boyfriend she had kept in the dark led them to ask, "Is your boyfriend coming back with you? Have you told him the truth about who you are?" "I haven't. I'm going to break up with him."