Short Romance Stories & Novels

My sister aims her camera at my face as she livestreams. She forces me to get on my knees before her as everyone in her class watches. Then, she tells me to lick her shoe clean. My parents know about her behavior but don't care how it affects me. Their indulgence only makes my sister's behavior worse. This is precisely what I want, though. If one wants to ruin someone, the first step is to turn her into a psycho!

Nathan Brooks had been tangled up with his secretary for far too long. All I did was ask one simple question. “Has Chloe Bennett resigned yet?” That was enough to make him hurl the glass in his hand at me. “You jealous, bitter woman,” he snapped. “Because of your jealousy, you drove Chloe away. “I told you I’m not divorcing you, Emily. Isn’t that enough for you?” I said nothing. I only looked down at the cut on my arm, where the shattered glass had sliced through my skin, then quietly bent down and picked up the broken pieces. What Nathan didn’t know was that I had already drawn up the divorce papers.

For five years, I thought our marriage was solid. Then, my husband, Lionel Franco’s first love, Sandra Howard, posted a photo of a property deed on her social media. The caption read: [Thank you, Lionel, for transferring the house to me.] I stared in disbelief and left a single comment: [WTF?] Lionel called within minutes. “She’s a struggling single mother. Transferring the house to her makes it easier for her son to get into school. It doesn’t affect where we live,” he snapped. “How can you be so lacking in compassion?” In the background, I heard her muffled sobs. Half an hour later, she tagged me in another post.  This time, she flaunted her Mercedes worth over a million dollars, with the caption: [Paid in full. As the saying goes, ‘Where a man spends his money, that's where his heart is’.] I knew he bought it to soothe her temper. But this time, I had enough. I decided to divorce him.

My mother-in-law was obsessed with picking mushrooms. She said mushroom stew with chicken was incredibly nourishing. She often made it to boost my husband’s health. However, she never let me have any, not even a sip of the broth. Every time, she came up with some excuse to send me out on an errand. If I refused, my husband’s fists and kicks reminded me to obey. So, this time, I obediently went out like always. Even though I just had a miscarriage five days ago and the sun outside was scorching, I had to go.

The day my girlfriend got back together with her first love, I boarded a plane bound for Brindlewood. She told her first love, "Craig was just a fling. I won't have anything to do with him anymore. From now on, I'll only be by your side." Her friends all worried I might cause a scene. But they didn't know—this time, I wasn't going to make a fuss. Before leaving for Brindlewood, I had promised my mentor I'd join his medical research program. In just two weeks, I'd lose all contact with the outside world and dive into a secret project for the next ten years. From that moment on, there would be no ties between me and her anymore.

I'd been "married" to Zachary for two years—until I tried applying for a loan and the bank's system flagged someone else as his legal wife. Our wedding? Just a private show. The real marriage license had his name next to hers. So yeah. I wasn't the wife. I was the other woman. Crushed, I went home—only to hear Zachary talking to his friend, Ethan, by the door. "Man, watching you stress is exhausting," Ethan said. "You clearly love Sierra. So why marry Cathryn?" Zachary looked torn. "At first, she was just a stand-in. But when she left, I couldn't stop thinking about her. So I brought her back—as my assistant." He paused, then muttered, "I can't live without Sierra. But I can't let go of Cathryn either. So I gave Sierra my love in public and kept Cathryn hidden with the title. That's fair, right?" I stood frozen, heart splitting open. He loved us both. Me—his childhood sweetheart. Her—the hidden wife. I thought I was the one. Turns out, I was just the game. He didn't break my heart. He shattered my whole world. But I didn't cry. I didn't scream. I walked away. And started planning two things.

In their fifth year of marriage,Jessica went to renew their marriage certificate. However, she was told that the certificate was fake, and her husband's legal wife was someone else. The love that had seemed inseparable for five years turned out to be a lie. When she returned home, she overheard Anthony, her husband, talking to his lawyer: "Linda is building her career abroad, and to establish herself in the business world, she needs the title of Mrs. Harris. I have to help her." "As for Jessica, she's completely devoted to me. She's already cut ties with her family for me, and she will never leave." Hearing that, Jessica's heart turned to stone. By the time Anthony brought back the real marriage certificate, Jessica had disappeared, and he was unable to find her again.

Three months after my husband, Josiah Erikson, disappears in a skiing accident, I spot him in a bar. He's laughing freely with an arm slung casually around his "best friend", Monica Jones' shoulders. "Good thing you came up with the idea. I'd almost forgotten what freedom feels like." One after another, his buddies clink glasses with him and ask about when he plans to reappear. He looks down and thinks about it before saying, "In a week. I'll show up once she's gone completely crazy searching for me." Standing in the shadows, I watch him savor his freedom, then call my friend who works at the state vital records office.

My husband is known as a ruthless CEO, but somehow, he is tender and warm with me. I'm passionate about art restoration, especially antique paintings, so he transforms his private collection room into a professional-grade studio just for me. He even brings in top experts to mentor me. Once, I spent three sleepless nights restoring a rare 12th-century painting. He ends up buying the entire museum that the painting belongs to, just so I can study it without restrictions. To marry me, he goes head-to-head with his powerful family, even stages a hunger strike, until they finally give in. At our engagement party, he gets down on one knee in front of everyone and says, "Ash, you deserve nothing but the best in this world." The ring he designs himself has an engraving on the inside that says, "Art brought us together, love holds us forever." Everyone says Vincent Hawthorn loves me like a maniac, and I believe it—until I restore one of his late mother's paintings…

During my wedding reception, I make a toast to my wife's true love. He smashes his wine glass in retaliation and snaps, "I lost to you and allowed you to marry Isabel, but you shouldn't have humiliated me in public!" My wife, Isabel Eaton, is furious. She calls me petty and says she's disgusted by men like me, who get jealous over the smallest things. She rips her veil off and runs after her true love. I chase her, wanting to explain myself. However, a car rams into me. Isabel turns to glance at me but doesn't stop as she goes after her true love. I'm taken to the hospital to be rescued. However, my heart dies despite my body recovering. Upon regaining consciousness, I call my father. I've cut off contact with him for the past three years, but it's time to cave. "I'll go ahead with the marriage alliance, Dad."

The first thing I did after rebirth was follow my husband, Franklin Wallace, to the island for his military deployment. In my previous life, as a spoiled rich heiress from a wealthy family, I looked down on Franklin, the commander my family had arranged for me to marry. We fought constantly, huge arguments every few days, small quarrels in between. After having children, I grew to resent our two kids simply because they carried Franklin's blood. Later, when Franklin was ordered to be stationed on the island, I was the first to stand up and object to going with him. Since I opposed it, Franklin did not force me. He took our two kids and his widowed sister-in-law, Elsie Faulkner, to the island instead. Meanwhile, my spoiled and rebellious self could not wait to throw myself into the arms of my first love, Reuben Sandoval, once Franklin left. However, it did not take long before I discovered Reuben was nothing but a gold-digging scumbag who only wanted my money and body. He gave me an STI and drained my family fortune completely. When Franklin returned from the island with our children, they no longer recognized me as their mother and affectionately called Elsie "Mommy" instead. He even told me he had fallen in love with Elsie during their time together on the island. Eventually, I ended up homeless on the streets and starved to death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day Franklin was about to leave for his island deployment.

On the day I won the national esports championship, my girlfriend of eight years told me she wanted to go on stage and personally present me with flowers. Standing on the podium, my heart was racing. I reached into my pocket to pull out the ring I'd hidden there, ready to propose to her in front of the entire nation. But what happened next shocked me. She giggled and, instead of handing me the bouquet, she gave it to her male best friend. Under the bright lights, they became the center of attention. The crowd cheered, and their congratulatory messages flooded the trending topics. Even his fans tagged me in posts, mocking, [I told you not to get in the way of our couple, now look at you.] I simply posted on Twitter, [Respect and blessings. Please be locked together forever.]

My husband's true love and I are trapped when a fire breaks out. He's a firefighter—when he arrives on scene, he chooses to save her without hesitation. I barely make it out alive. Once I do, I demand a divorce. He doesn't understand why. He asks, "Why do you want to divorce me? Because I didn't save you first?" I angrily throw the divorce agreement in his face. "Yes, that's exactly why! Because you chose to save your old flame when she was further from you!"

Brody Lewis, my fiance, said that I had a rare form of transient global amnesia, which was a sudden, temporary memory loss. Every seven days, I would open my eyes and become the twenty-five-year-old Riley Taylor again. My memories were forever stuck in the past. In my pen drive were videos of Brody taking me on trips, bringing me for treatment, and proposing to me. Everything seemed great between us, but I remembered none of it. “Riley’s still around. Can’t you keep your hands to yourself?” “Don’t worry. It’s Monday tomorrow. After she wakes up, she’ll remember none of it,” Brody said, and my heart sank. “Isn’t this more exciting?” Brody embraced my best friend, and they made out brazenly in front of me. They were not shy about it at all. I wondered just how many times this had happened over the past two years. I ran as tears blurred my vision. When I arrived at a tattoo shop, I grabbed the tattoo artist like a drowning man holding on to a log. Then, I asked the tattoo artist to tattoo these words on my arm in my handwriting. [Leave him.]

The night before returning to the Cantrell residence, I had a dream where I was the despised antagonist in a book. In the story, my father had adopted a girl who bore an uncanny resemblance to my late mother. On the day he came to pick me up, he got into a devastating car accident. After that, my second brother, Shawn Cantrell, lashed out, calling me a curse, while my eldest brother, Seth Cantrell, treated me with cold indifference. In the end, I was abandoned by everyone, meeting a tragic and lonely end.

My boyfriend said that art held no restrictions, so he used my provocative paintings to enter a competition. Amidst a row of classic ceramic figurines, I became famous. He shot to fame, landing in the top ten of trending searches, while I was humiliated by the entire internet and mocked as a “ceramic influencer.” When I confronted him, he looked at me with disappointment. “They don’t understand art, and neither do you? I thought you would support my work, but I didn’t expect you to stir trouble! You’re so immature!”

On my birthday, Connor Simpson's first love jumped off a building due to depression. She died on the spot. Connor blamed everything on me. I never celebrated my birthday again after she died. After the murderer electrocuted me for more than ten hours, they forced me to call Connor. "Connor, it's my 25th birthday today. Can you come over and spend time with me?" However, Connor did not notice anything unusual. His voice was laced with venomous iciness. "Clarisse Winter, Audrey wouldn't have died if it weren't for you. How dare you ask me to celebrate your birthday? If only you were the one who died." I heard him coaxing a woman on the other end just before he hung up on me. That low and gentle tone was what I loved to hear the most in the past. That night, the murderer cut my body into countless pieces, packed them in bags, and threw them in front of the police station. Connor was summoned back overnight. He spent two days and two nights piecing together the body parts, but he did not realize that the dead person was the wife that he hated the most.

I've been dating the country's most eligible bachelor for two years. My base salary is $2 million, with bonuses based on performance. Holding hands costs $10,000, putting an arm around his waist is $20,000, and a kiss on the lips is a bit pricier at $50,000. As for certain bedroom activities, well, those come with a whole different price tag. Brad is fair-skinned and handsome, appearing only once a month – he's practically a walking Tiffany's diamond. Life is so sweet, it's easy to get complacent if you're not careful. One night, a DM popped up on Instagram from a stranger. "If you trust me, check your boyfriend's phone." "?" "I'm his girlfriend." "Am I the third party or are you the third party?" "You're third, I'm fourth." "Let's meet and talk details."

On the very night Finn Chapman's first love got divorced, he threw the ninety-ninth divorce agreement at me. "Lisa's heart is broken. She can't move on. I have to take care of her," he said. Even our seven-year-old son tried to persuade me. "You should just agree to the divorce and leave," he told me. "Let Lisa move in. We don't need a maid like you anymore." Both father and son were certain I'd scream, cry, beg them not to throw me out. But I didn't. I simply nodded, quietly signed my name on the divorce papers, and left. Ten years later, my son became the top scorer on the SATs. During an interview, a reporter asked him, "What has motivated you to study so hard all these years?" He went silent for a moment. Then, in front of everyone, his eyes turned red. "Because I wanted to tell my mom," he said, voice trembling, "I've grown up now. Will you come back? Please don't leave me again."

"Sasha, Mira's already engaged to Vincent. Stop messing with it. We booked your flight. You'll stay overseas until after the wedding." The whole 'this is for your own good' routine was back. That's when Sasha Clarke realized—she'd been given a second shot. Right to the day her parents forced her out of the country and made her give up Vincent Scythe.