Pendek Romance Cerita & Novel

In the empty villa, Celia Quinn sat motionless on the sofa. It wasn't until much later that the villa's front door swung open, and Lucas Shaw stepped inside. His gaze paused briefly on her, then his expression turned cold. "Yvonne is running a fever today. Why did you keep calling me?"

After the video exposing my sister Issa Acosta’s plot against me was revealed, my parents and my fiancé, Henry Nolan, stood firmly by my side, making me feel loved and safe. I confidently handed over all the evidence to them, trusting them to handle it. However, they told me that after Issa was kicked out of the house, she died in a sudden car accident, and I believed them. That was until five years into my marriage, when I accidentally saw Issa—the woman who was supposed to be dead. She was holding a little boy, clinging tightly to Henry’s hand. "Henry, if it weren’t for you and my parents, I’m afraid Zoe would’ve thrown me in prison. Thankfully, my parents destroyed the evidence and even opened a jewelry design studio for me. To avoid suspicion, you even sacrificed your own marriage. Thank you for everything in the past five years.” "Think of it as me atoning to Zoe on your behalf. As long as you and Bear are happy, that’s enough for me." So, what I thought was a happy family was nothing more than a giant lie—a scheme concocted by my parents and Henry. My parents, my husband, and Issa were the real family, and I? I was just the fool who had been deceived for five long years. Whether it was family or love, none of it was real, and I don’t want any of it anymore.

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?

My husband has azoospermia. After trying all the options available, I finally conceived. However, my husband is worried my child will hurt his first love's feelings—she had a miscarriage. He tricks me into going for a prenatal checkup. In truth, he conspires with a doctor to induce labor when I'm only five months along. He says, "You must be the one with the problem. Why else is it so hard for us to have children? The baby won't be healthy even if it's born! We can have more children when you're healthier. Julie has just had a miscarriage; I don't want to aggravate her." He doesn't know he has azoospermia. I only managed to conceive this child after trying out IVF countless times and taking countless folk remedies. He will never have a child of his own in this lifetime, and I discover his true colors. I ask for a divorce, and that's when he loses his mind.

The heart that I had waited two years for was given to the fake heiress, Diane Bishop, by my husband. The doctor said that I only had a week left to live. So, I decided to undergo cryonics. I donated my body to Diane’s workshop. The day I signed the donation papers, my son threw himself into my arms and exclaimed that I had finally made up with Diane. My parents praised me for finally being a good sister to help out Diane. My husband was pleased when he said that I had finally let go of the grudge and had become more understanding. I chuckled. They were right, I had finally learned my lesson. I would give Diane my identity as the heir of Bishop Corporation and fulfill everyone’s wishes.

A week before our wedding, my fiancee announces that she is pregnant using my younger brother's frozen sperm. "I'm grateful that our love can carry on in another way," she gushes on social media, showing off the test results. My brother replies, "Meeting you was the luckiest thing that ever happened to me." Then Mom chimes in. "Jenny, you've been through so much. Nathan's apartment should be under your name alone." I don't argue and simply reply with a single word—"Congratulations". My phone rings almost seconds later. "Your brother can't have kids anymore. It's just one child, and it's still related to you. Why are you being so petty?" she snaps. I laugh under my breath, hang up, and dial another number. "Want to get married?"

A stampede happened at my daughter's kindergarten. Timothy Horuson was in a hurry to save his first love's son, and he pulled away someone else's hand. A hand reached out to him, hoping for him to save her. His daughter's hand. And the light in my daughter's eyes faded. The longing for fatherly love she had held on to for so long vanished. I risked my life to save her. She looked at me quietly. "I'll go with you, Mom. We'll leave Dad behind and go somewhere he'll never find us."

After my financial reports were replaced with blank pages, the company was thrown into a legal and financial crisis. As the accountant, I was accused of falsifying records. I was charged, convicted, and sent to prison. Three years later, I was finally released. My CEO husband and our son came to pick me up in person. Just when I was touched by their loyalty, believing they had stood by me through it all, I overheard their conversation. "Dad, Winona wanted that villa in the suburbs, so you used company funds to buy it. But Mom was the one who got blamed for the falsified accounts. She spent three years behind bars, shunned by everyone. Even I got teased by my friends because of her." Hank took our son's hand, his tone grave. "We agreed never to bring this up again. Back then, Winona needed a place to live. I had no choice but to use the company's money, and your mom had to take the fall." That was the moment I realized—my years in prison, the public disgrace, the humiliation… had all been part of a plan. A plan crafted by the very man I trusted with my life.

At an investor banquet, my fiancé Tanner Clarkson’s secretary, Willow Thorne, recklessly throws a glass of wine at an investor and hurls insults without thinking. In retaliation, the investor demands that Willow make it up to him with her body, or he'll pull his funding. To ensure the company's successful IPO, Tanner hands me a glass of spiked wine. Then, he pushes me to the investor, expecting me to extinguish his flames of rage. His eyes are filled with feigned hesitation as he says, "Willow isn't like you. She just graduated—she's pure and innocent. Stop fighting it, Kathy. I'll make it up to you once the company goes public." When I regain consciousness, I stare at the man across from me, my voice hoarse. "About that deal you mentioned... I'll sign it."

My flight was suddenly canceled, so I dragged my suitcase back home. As soon as I stepped inside, I saw torn black stockings scattered on the floor. This was the eighth time Simon Jones had brought a different woman home. The sound of running water and a young woman’s laughter echoed from the bathroom. I didn’t cry or make a scene. Instead, I sat quietly on the couch, waiting for them to finish. Everyone assumed I would continue being Simon’s devoted fool like before. But no one knew that the man I truly loved had returned. After tonight, Simon, the stand-in, would be discarded.

My in-laws go on a jungle trip and are stung by venomous bees. An exorbitant sum is needed for their surgeries, so I hurriedly call my husband for help. However, as soon as the call connects, he berates me. "They can die if you don't have money to treat them! Why waste the money? Your family isn't mine—what does it have to do with me if they die? Also, Chloe has no money for food. I'm transferring what we have to buy her a meal." He hangs up abruptly and transfers whatever money I have. Meanwhile, his parents die because we didn't pay to save them.

My husband searches for doctors everywhere to cure me of my stomach cancer. I think he loves me to the core, but after I recover, he takes away my left kidney to save his true love, who's been comatose for two years. He leans down to kiss her as I watch. "She owes you this; I've finally made her repay you. You'll definitely get better after this." What he doesn't know is that I'm already weak from the cancer. I die after he takes my kidney. That's when he goes crazy. He breaks down in tears and screams at the doctors. "Didn't you say she wouldn't die?"

A year ago, I was a rising star in the legal world. But everything changed when I uncovered evidence that my fiance's first love had caused an accident. She lured me to an abandoned factory and ruined my face, then pushed me into a toxic asphalt pit and left me to drown. Little did they know, I was pregnant with my fiance's child when I died. After my death, he had the audacity to claim that I had accepted money from a murderer and had fled the country. His actions turned me into a pariah. Meanwhile, he and his precious first love walked down the aisle together. A year later, the abandoned factory I had died in was being demolished, and someone stumbled upon my body in that asphalt pit.

Before my mother passed away, the person she most wanted to see was her beloved son-in-law, Anthony Brosnan. She supported Anthony financially for five years, and the latter started his own business after graduating. At that time, I accidentally walked into his office and instantly fell in love with him at first sight. However, Anthony changed after three years of marriage and fell in love with his secretary. I called him over a dozen times, and it was the secretary who picked up the phone. "Anthony is cooking right now. Do you need something?" Just as I was about to speak, my mother overheard the voice. Her eyes widened in disbelief, and she passed away filled with resentment. Anthony, since I had lost my mother, you meant nothing to me anymore.

By year four of our marriage, Scott had picked up a college girl—Gigi. Bright, beautiful, full of life. She had him, a billionaire, eating street food and chasing after her favorite esports player. Scott called. "Not coming home. Watching Joel Arnoult's match." Beside him, Gigi scoffed. "That boring old woman—does she even know who Joel Arnoult is?" They had no clue. The second the call ended, Joel had me pinned in the back of a dimly lit car. His teeth grazed my neck—sharp, teasing, a little painful. "Leila, if I win, how are you gonna reward me?"

I stare at the email on my screen, unable to move my fingers. Tomorrow is our company's crucial product launch, and I just learn that the patent for the algorithm I spent three years developing is now filed under Matthew Ashford's new assistant, Sophie Bennett. I storm into Matthew's office to confront him. Sophie sits on his desk with her legs crossed, looking completely innocent. She claims that she filled out the form by mistake. "It's just a clerical error. The patent still belongs to the company. What's the big deal?" Matthew stands up from his chair, positioning himself in front of Sophie. I can't believe what I am hearing. "Matthew, this is my research!" "Emma, you're thirty-five. Why are you picking a fight with a twenty-three-year-old intern?" He frowns. Then, he turns to Sophie. "Starting tomorrow, you're the new CTO. Emma needs… some time off." I'm utterly stunned. A decade of marriage and five years dedicated to building a company together have been shattered by a few casual words from him. Thirty minutes later, Sophie posts a photo on social media of herself sitting on Matthew's lap. They are both clinking champagne glasses. "So lucky to have the best boss ever. I'll make sure to be his loyal kitten." Below that, Matthew leaves a comment—three red heart emojis. I shut my laptop and pick up my phone. "Hello. Is this Mr. David Langley from Novara Group of Sundale Valley? This is Emma Whitmore. I've changed my mind. I'm ready to join you." I pause. "And by the way, about that unreleased algorithm upgrade, I have the complete technical blueprint. Make me an offer." Later, I fly to Tallisport with an eight-figure check in hand, while Matthew goes frantic trying to find me.

My childhood sweetheart tanked his startup and racked up millions in debt. He begged for my help, so I dropped out of college and sold liquor to keep him afloat. Ten years later, he proposed to me. I thought we'd made it through the worst until I saw his chatting records with his buddies. [Lorelei is pushing 30. Too old and too used up for you.] [Who knows if she earned that debt money by slinging drinks or something else?] [Besides, what about your kid with your secretary?]

My husband persuaded my daughter to donate her kidney to save his lover. After the surgery, he stayed by his lover’s side and neglected my daughter who developed kidney failure that led to her death. When I confronted the nasty couple, they refused to believe that my daughter had passed away and kicked me out by force. Afterward, I took my daughter's ashes to her eighteenth birthday party where my husband showed up with his lover and tore down all the decorations, going as far as to scatter my daughter’s ashes. He then accused my late daughter of undermining his lover’s career. When he finally had to accept that his daughter was dead, he still insisted on defending his lover. Eventually, I showed him proof that it was his lover who refused the hospital’s proposed organ donor so that she could plot to take my daughter’s kidney instead. Upon finding out the truth, he lost his mind and killed his lover. Now that those two have gotten what they deserve, I bring my daughter’s ashes and travel to the places she had always wanted to go to.

I used to be a top ballet dancer. The year I was diagnosed with a spinal hemangioma, my boyfriend Julian Blackwood said, "Wherever you go, I go." We'd been together three years. He walked beside me as I went, step by step, from the most luminous dancer on that stage to a woman in a wheelchair. Every time the nerve pain hit and I collapsed, he was the one who lifted me off the floor. Every round of electrostim and acupuncture, he sat in the corridor outside the therapy room and waited for me to come out. Before I got sick, he promised me—the night I finished my final performance of Swan Lake, we'd sign the marriage license. He'd bought tickets for that show three months in advance. I never stood on that stage again. And the marriage license never came up. Until the morning I noticed the collar of his white dress shirt carried a smudge of lipstick that wasn't mine. I heard him on the balcony. A woman's voice on the other end. "Mr. Blackwood, you left your jacket at the hotel last night. I'll bring it over." I stared at that smear of red, and something in me snapped. I laughed. "Send me to Westbrook. The locked-down rehab facility. I don't want to drag you down anymore." Something flickered in his eyes—a brief, animal panic. Then he nodded. He thought I meant rest. He didn't know I'd already signed the papers to donate my body to science. I was going there to die.

Ivory Stone has tried and failed to seduce her stoic steward 999 times. She thinks that maybe Wilson Quill doesn't have a heart. Maybe he won't ever fall in love with anyone. But one day, she catches him pleasuring himself with a bracelet belonging to the fake heiress who stole her life.