Cerita Pendek Melodramatic & Novel Bias Countdown

Lately, the husband whom the Jeston heiress had loved for years seemed like a completely different person. A month ago, during a heavy downpour, Sierra Parker forgot her husband, Caleb Finch, who had been at the airport waiting for her to pick him up, instead choosing to accompany her late cousin's husband, Riley Cross, for a round of karaoke. Caleb, who usually possesses a petty streak, didn't even get angry this time. He simply caught a taxi home alone. Two weeks ago, Sierra forgot Caleb's birthday entirely while she stayed out to nurse the drunk Riley. Caleb didn't stay up waiting for her like he always did. Instead, he cleaned up the mess and headed to bed. Two days ago, Sierra abandoned Caleb while he's running a high fever, all because Riley nearly scalded himself. Even their daughter, Amelia Finch, was worried about Riley. When they crossed paths at the hospital, Caleb merely sat down and received his IV drip in silence. He forgot their vows to grow old together and even Amelia's words of appreciation for how hard he had worked to care for their family over the years. Now, Sierra wants to bring Riley into their home and support him for the rest of his life. Seeing the sadness in Caleb's eyes, she merely purses her lips. "Caleb, we've been married for seven years. I'm only letting Riley move in with us. You don't have to threaten to walk out on me." Amelia looks equally annoyed with him. "Dad, stop being so dramatic. Isn't it a good thing to have another person around to look after me?" Silently enduring the loss of his memories, he calls out to the system, "System, I'm ready to go now."

I can see flowers blossoming around a person when they fall in love. The stronger their love, the more beautiful the flowers. When Ann Liston proposed to me when I was 22, 99 white camellias had blossomed around my feet, stretching down the whole street. Seven years later, the flowers began to wither. Even so, she insisted that love always fades anyway, whereas companionship and responsibility were far more precious. That was why she no longer sneaked kisses when I'm asleep, but still came home punctually every day. That was why she no longer prepared surprises for me, but added my name into every estate. Even if work was busy, she'd spare a whole day for me every month. I was convinced that this was the ideal form of marriage too. Until three months ago, when she was caught in an avalanche in the mountains. It was the rescue team medic Martin Irwin who dug through layers of snow to reach her, carrying her down the mountains on his back when she was barely breathing. Once she made a full recovery, she spent $3,000,000 setting up a fund for rescuers, claiming that it was to repay her life debt to Martin. I never thought much of it…until our seventh wedding anniversary. We were once again in the restaurant where we had our first date on our anniversary. Halfway through it, Martin came to our table. Dressed casually, he smiled, "What a coincidence, Ms. Liston." Ann stood up, politely shaking his hand with a calm expression and demure mannerisms. In a split second, countless roses bloomed wildly around her feet, covering every inch of the restaurant. They were so much more radiant than the white camellias that had bloomed for me.

Before I turned eighteen, I was the adored principessa of the Moretti family. That all changed on my eighteenth birthday, when my father brought home an orphan girl named Carina. "She needs a home," my father said. "You will look after her, like a sister." From that moment on, nothing was the same. My brother, who once doted on me, became cold and distant. And my fiancé... his love for me seemed to halve overnight. The family praised Carina for being gentle and obedient, calling her a far better daughter than me, their own flesh and blood. After being cast aside for Carina one too many times, I finally broke and grabbed my father's sleeve. "Does blood mean nothing at all?" My father's fury ignited. He sheltered a tear-stricken Carina behind him, and in front of every member of the family, he struck me across the face. "You selfish waste. I wish I'd never had you." "You bring shame to this family," my brother Marco's voice was as cold as a blade. "Get out." And my fiancé, Vincent, looked at me with disappointment,"If only it had been Carina I was engaged to from the start." They thought I would grovel at their feet, like I always did. But I said nothing, just walked to the family safe, removed the official documents, and drew a single line through my name. I took the engagement ring from my finger and placed it on the table. I gave Carina everything they felt I didn't deserve. After all, I only had a few days left to live. But they had no idea then that amid the ruins of the Moretti family, they would one day kneel in the rain and plead for my return.

Everyone in New Volka's underground world knows that the young Don Lorenzo Corsi is a cold-blooded lunatic. He only shows his gentle side to me. Seven years ago, Lorenzo saves me from an underground casino that belongs to the Corsi family. He also pays off my sickly Padre's astronomical medical bill on my behalf. He slips the family heirloom diamond ring that identifies me as the Donna of the family on my finger. When the heads of the family oppose his decision, he declares that he will only accept me as his wife in his lifetime. I once believed I was the only one he favored, but everything changed when his childhood friend, Viviana Rossi, returned to New Volka and became the family's new Consigliere. Lorenzo silently allows her to sit next to the main seat during family banquets—the spot that used to exclusively belong to me. "The Rossi family took a heavy blow for my sake in the past, Clara," he says. "I have to compensate her. However, my heart and the position of 'Mrs. Corsi' will forever belong to you." I believe Lorenzo's words, giving in time and time again as I remain by his side through seven bloody and turbulent years. On our seventh wedding anniversary, a rival family bombs our estate in the suburbs. Lorenzo rushes into the collapsing banquet hall and picks Viviana up. Although I'm three months pregnant, he says, "You're the strongest, Clara. Just hold on for three minutes. I'll come back for you once I send her to the bulletproof car." Three minutes pass, but Lorenzo still hasn't come back. The baby is gone when I regain consciousness. I also lose the ability to become a mother for the rest of my days. I calmly withdrew my hand and looked at Lorenzo, who had sunk to one knee beside the bed, overcome with remorse. Seven years ago, he saved Papa's life on my behalf. I've already paid off my debt to him with the seven years I spent with him and my child's life. I will leave his empire completely and live the rest of my life without him.

A serial killer who had been on the run for five years kidnapped my son, Fraser Robertson. A time bomb was strapped to his body. With only ten minutes left, the kidnapper gave us a final warning. "Get your forensic pathologist husband here now, or I'll blow up your only son." My mother, Daphne Vanderbilt, used every connection she had to send the city's SWAT team to the scene, ready to storm the building. My husband's parents, Walter and Helen Robertson, offered up their entire fortune to negotiate with the kidnapper and buy Fraser's freedom. I desperately called my husband, Sebastian Robertson, over and over. It took more than a dozen calls before he finally answered. But after hearing what happened, he said seriously, "Fiona, someone broke into Nancy's house. I'll stay with her until the police arrive, then I'll come straight to you. Don't worry. The kidnapper wants me. They won't hurt Fraser." Then I heard Nancy Lightfoot's frightened voice through the phone. "Sebastian, I'm so scared..." The call ended. Time slowly passed. Now there were only ten seconds left. I stared at the countdown on the bomb in despair. Sebastian wasn't going to make it in time to save Fraser.

The year Daniel went broke, I swallowed every last drop of pride.  I took a job as a dancer at a shady nightclub just to pay off his debts. We lived in a forty-dollar-a-night basement room, surviving on stale energy bars and tap water.  I became the laughingstock of everyone we used to know. Eight years later, he pulled off the ultimate comeback and clawed his way back to the top. His very first move?  Bringing his high school sweetheart, Mia, straight into our home. At his victory party, in front of a room packed with people, he laid down three rules for me. "First, keep your distance in public. Mia’s a total germaphobe. "Second, Mia is sensitive. From now on, tell people you’re my assistant. "Third, never bring up your nightclub days again. It disgusts me." Mia clutched her tea glass and added timidly, "Maddy, I’ll be in your care." The room erupted in laughter.  The looks thrown my way were a mix of pity and mockery. I just smiled and nodded. "Of course." The next day, I moved my things into the maid’s quarters and handed over the master bedroom.  When she complained that the doorknobs I had touched were filthy, I hired a deep-cleaning crew to sanitize the entire house. When Daniel came home that night, his eyes were bloodshot. He grabbed my wrist, shaking with rage. "Maddy, what the hell is this drama? Do you still think you're some spoiled rich girl?" I didn't have the energy to fight back, let alone answer. Eight years of pouring cheap liquor down my throat had burned through my body. Hidden in my nightstand drawer, buried beneath a stack of old mail, was a late-stage stomach cancer diagnosis. In three days, I would be gone from his world forever.

Everyone in Sirano knows that Lorenzo Gallo only likes one type of woman—submissive and docile. I happen to fit those criteria. When we're dating, Lorenzo has gifted me jewelry, villas, and even a harbor. He has also prepared a grand proposal for me. After the proposal, Lorenzo tells me that the Don has ordered him to sire an heir with his widowed sister-in-law, Elena Marino. Only when an heir is produced will the Don acknowledge Lorenzo's wedding with me. Since then, the phrase that he utters to me the most is "just wait for a little longer". I have to wait for Lorenzo throughout all 99 nights of him sleeping with Elena. I need to keep waiting till she gets pregnant once again. Just as I think all the waiting has come to an end, I accidentally overhear a conversation between Lorenzo and his best friend. "Lorenzo, the hospital has confirmed that Elena is pregnant with a boy. This means you must marry Susanna now." "It's impossible for me to be with Elena in this lifetime. But Susanna is very docile, not to mention she loves me with all her heart. She's the best candidate for my marriage." It turns out that the man I thought who loved me deeply had fabricated those feelings just to protect another woman. That night, I no longer drag out Howardson University's invitation, and chose to leave for a ten-year classified medical research program abroad. Lorenzo Gallo, I don't want your misplaced love anymore!

The moment Victor knelt to propose to me, a stream of floating comments flickered across my vision. [LMAO. The villainess actually thinks the male lead has fallen for her.] [Gotta hand it to the male lead, a truly devoted Don. He's gritting his teeth and marrying the villainess just to protect the heroine.] [I wanna fast-forward to the part where the heroine is safe and the villainess gets dumped by the male lead.] My breath caught hard. Winning Victor 's true love was the mission the system assigned me after I awakened. Ten years since we met. Seven of them I spent chasing him. All this time, I thought he had finally fallen in love with me. I looked down at the seven-carat pink diamond ring in Victor's hand, and my eyes went hot. I closed my eyes and said softly, "Victor, I won't marry you." With that, I turned and walked away. The next second, a sharp system warning blared inside my head. "Host, mission failed. You will be erased in forty-eight hours."

Nathaniel Scott has been married to Jessica Sullivan for three years, but they still have no children. Worried that Jessica might be feeling too much pressure, Nathaniel goes to the hospital to get himself checked first. The doctor studies the test results for a long moment before saying in surprise, "Mr. Scott, you've had a vasectomy!" Nathaniel immediately denies it. "How could I possibly have had a vasectomy? My wife and I both love children. We've been trying for a baby ever since we got married. That's absolutely impossible!" The doctor checks his medical records on the computer and tells him, "You had a vasectomy three months ago." A vasectomy? Nathaniel immediately shakes his head. "No! I had my appendix removed three months ago!" "The surgical records clearly state that it was a vasectomy. Your wife even signed the consent form." Unwilling to accept this, Nathaniel begs the doctor to retrieve the consent form from that day. Patient: Nathaniel Scott Procedure: Vasectomy The family member's signature is in Jessica's elegant, graceful hand. It is unmistakably hers. Nathaniel is still reeling from the shock when the doctor suddenly notices something else on the computer. "Your wife's name is Jessica Sullivan, correct?" "Yes." "It seems she just came in for a prenatal checkup. Another family member accompanied her. His name is York Lawrence. Do you know him?" He does. A year ago, when Jessica was in a car accident, York was the one who saved her.

In the seventh year of our marriage, Rhett once again gave something of mine to Lauren without asking my permission. By the time I found out, she was already wearing the brooch my mother had left me at a family gala. I went straight to the study. "Why did you take my things?" Rhett glanced up at me, then rose from his chair and walked over. He slipped an arm around my waist. "She's only borrowing it, Nancy. I know how generous you are. Surely you can let this go. "Lauren has only just taken over the South District, and the old guard are watching her every move. Your mother commanded a great deal of respect within the family. Wearing that brooch might at least make those old men think twice before giving Lauren a hard time. "Besides, her father sacrificed so much for this family. I have a responsibility to help her get back on her feet." There it was again. The same excuse Rhett had used for years whenever he wanted me to give in where Lauren was concerned. At family dinners, he had pressured me to give up my seat at the head of the table. At work, he had handed my resources to her piece by piece. He had even let Lauren come and go as she pleased in the old house my mother had left me. This time, though, I was done putting up with it. Without another word, I walked out of the study and called my assistant. "Book me a flight. I'm leaving in three days."

The wolfsbane had reached my bones, and I decided to stop treatment. Once, Ethan Anderson, the pack's Alpha, was the only light in my life. He promised we would travel the continent together, chasing the northern lights across frozen plains and exploring ancient ruins. But while I lay dying from wolfsbane poisoning, he took Murphy Blake, my best friend and the person I trusted most, to every place I had dreamed of seeing. My dreams became the story of how they fell in love. I was ready to let go. I wanted only to see the final place on my list. Then the antidote shattered, my ticket was soaked in blood, and Ethan abandoned me alone in the frozen wilderness. My life entered its final countdown. And there, at the edge of death, I discovered a secret that would change the fate of every werewolf. Ten years later, when the wolfsbane curse that had plagued werewolves for a thousand years was finally broken and everyone called me their savior, Ethan finally understood: He hadn't merely lost a mate who loved him. He had lost the one person who once would have spent her last breath waiting for him to turn back. But by then, I no longer needed his love.

While I'm folding my girlfriend Lucinda Fowler's clothes, she suddenly says, "You're actually pretty pathetic. In fact, you're even more embarrassing than a simp." My hands pause. Just as I'm about to argue back, she cuts me off. "Sure, you love me. Moreover, you're diligent, dependable, and take great care of me. But sometimes you just can't compare to Owen. Anyone could do what you do. In short, you're nowhere near Owen's level." It suddenly occurs to me that a month ago, her ex-boyfriend, Owen Boyd, invited her to a concert. However, I decline on her behalf. Even to this day, she still holds it against me. I throw her clothes on the floor and turn to walk away. As it happens, my supervisor, Eve Hoffman, is asking me to go with her to the overseas branch. I turn it down for Lucinda's sake. But the moment I really walk away and clear the path for Owen, why does Lucinda cry and plead for me to return?

At twenty, Riley Nolan married Yale Sullivan, a close friend of her father's, despite the considerable age difference between them. Eight years her senior, Yale was notorious in their social circle for his cold, ruthless nature. He was merciless in business and had never shown the slightest interest in women. Yet with Riley, he was almost impossibly gentle. All she had to do was casually mention that a necklace was pretty, and he'd have the million-dollar piece delivered to her the next day. When menstrual cramps left her curled up in bed, he'd put aside business projects worth tens of millions of dollars to make her ginger tea with brown sugar, patiently coaxing her to drink it one spoonful at a time. In moments of passion, he'd grip her waist and call her "baby" in a low, husky voice, telling her how good she was and how he couldn't get enough of her. He even used "For Elise" as his display name across all his social media accounts. Riley had always assumed it was a tribute to the piano piece she'd played the day they first met. Then one day, she came across an old photo album in his study. Every picture featured the same girl, who bore a striking resemblance to Riley, smiling in front of a piano. On the back of one photograph, someone had written: "For Elise. My beloved Selise."

My husband, Dante, is the most untouchable Don of the Vance family in New York. He has one unbreakable rule: After 9 p.m., if he's out on family business, he does not take calls. I understood his devotion to the family, so for five years, I did my best never to disturb him. Until last night, when I was driving alone past the docks and walked straight into an ambush by a rival family's armed men. In a panic, I called Dante, begging him to save me. The phone rang for what felt like forever. When he finally picked up, his voice was ice-cold: "Nora, we've been married a long time. As the Donna of the Vance family, you should know the rules." Then he hung up. That night, I barely escaped the hail of bullets by the skin of my teeth. I spent the night in the hospital. But when I came home the next morning, all I got was a reproachful look. He accused me of interrupting a critical family shipment deal—and of sending a fake distress signal. I knew how hard he worked, so I swallowed my hurt. But later, when I used his computer, I accidentally saw his call log. One contact had been calling him almost every single night—always after nine. For five full years. I knew that number. It belonged to Alexa, the Vance family's Capo. The woman everyone in the family had agreed, for all these years, was the one truly fit to stand beside Dante. In that moment, every ounce of suppressed hurt came flooding back. After I calmed myself, I picked up my phone and found an invitation I'd received a few days ago—to an international art exhibition. And I clicked "Accept." In three days, I would disappear from his world completely.

On my little brother, Clover Shaw's birthday, I tear up my stomach cancer diagnosis report and use the money I've saved for treatment to buy him the gift he's been talking about for ages. But when I wake up in the early hours of the night while coughing blood, I hear the disdain in his voice. "That piece of crap he bought is just 5,000 dollars. It's not even worth as much as my cheapest game! Who would want that garbage? "He's such an idiot. It's been over 20 years, and he still hasn't figured out that we've been playing poor. He's out there working himself to the bone to scrape together my tuition fees! On top of that, he stinks so much every day! It's disgusting! Mom, who has always called me the backbone of the Shaw family, angrily speaks up. "He deserves it! You wouldn't have ended up in the ICU right after you were born just because he stole all your nutrients in the womb. You'd grow up to be young and healthy. "The fortune teller was right. He's nothing but a leech, and if we don't find ways to torture him, he'll only make your life suffer." While I collapse on the floor, tears stream down my face nonstop as I stare at the blood pooling in the trash can. "Don't worry, Mom. You won't have to fuss over my future because I won't have one…"

To leave something for her dying first love, my wife, Elara Wynn, decides to carry two babies at once, implanting his previously frozen embryo while she's already pregnant with our child. On the day of the procedure, she even stations 50 bodyguards outside, convinced I'll show up and try to stop her. But I never come. Once the embryo is successfully implanted, she finally relaxes. She doesn't understand why I'm making such a big deal out of it. All she wants is to leave something that belongs to her first love. She doesn't see anything wrong with that. Afterward, she comes to find me and says, as if she's doing me a favor, "Callum, aren't you happy I'm carrying twins now? Try to be the bigger person. What kind of example are you setting for the kids?" What she doesn't know is that while her first love's embryo survives the procedure, our baby doesn't. And I've already filed my immigration papers. In ten days, Callum Vane will cease to exist. I'll leave the country under a new identity, and she'll never see me again.

At the candlelit dinner for our tenth anniversary, my husband, Rian Ruthven, ditched me after getting a call from Chloe, a rookie accountant. He left me with a single sentence: "Finish your food and head home." No hesitation, no concern. Strictly business, as if I were just his subordinate, not the wife who had loved him for ten years. A few hours later, I found out he left simply because Chloe's kid had a fever. She had no friends and could only call her boss, Rian. Rian’s explanation to me was: "I just felt bad for her. It's not easy raising a kid alone." I just found it absurd. Since when did the famously ruthless Godfather of the Ruthven family have such a bleeding heart? It suddenly hit me that in the ten years I'd been with Rian, I was his wife in the shadows; to the rest of the world, I was just his CFO. When I ran a 104-degree fever and asked for time off, all I got was a cold text: "Recover quickly. The business needs you." A wave of exhaustion washed over me. I quietly drafted my resignation and divorce papers.

In New York’s Upper East Side, there were two heirs. One was a speed-obsessed daredevil dominating the racetracks, the other was a brilliant actuary who controlled the flow of capital. Born into powerful families and polar opposites in temperament, yet they grew up side by side as each other’s only best friend. They had fought over girls and bickered endlessly over racing bets. However, at fifteen, there was one thing they did in perfect unison. They each put on the same roughly carved bronze badge. They were trinkets Mia had idly made during a craft class, marked only by a faint “M” scratched on the back. Back then, Mia was seated in the last row of the classroom. Her background was a complete mystery to everyone. Yet they wore that badge for ten whole years. Whether standing on the F1 podium or locking in billion-dollar trades at the exchange, the cheap little badge on their chests never changed. Until Ella showed up. She was the cherished daughter of a rising conglomerate family. She hand-stitched two gold-thread fabric patches and gifted them to them. The patches looked so ordinary they looked like the kind of trinket you would find three for a dollar at a flea market. And yet, they both replaced their bronze badges with her plain patches. Mia did not say anything. She simply folded away an old newspaper clipping with a photo of the three of them smiling together. That night, she called her father in Sicily. Her voice was emotionless. “Papa, I accept the marriage arrangement.”

Lucien Varelli loved me best when my madness belonged to him. I tracked his convoy routes, checked his burner phones, and almost turned the city upside down whenever he disappeared for more than five minutes. At first, Lucien loved it. He kissed the signet ring on my hand and swore no woman, no family, no power in the city could ever take him from me. Until the night I cut off a call from Celeste Ardian. After that, I was no longer his wife. I was a problem. A scandal. A woman too unstable to stand beside the heir of a ruling house. So Lucien signed the papers and sent me to St. Dymphna House. They called it a private residential clinic. What it really was, was a place where inconvenient women were broken down and rebuilt into something quieter. Five years later, Lucien came to take me home. The director told him I had done beautifully. I no longer screamed. I no longer fought. I knew how to lower my eyes, soften my voice, keep my hands still, and smile like a proper Donna. Lucien thought they had cured me. He was wrong. They had not cured my madness. They had only killed the part of me that once loved him.

I give up being with my family and follow my boyfriend, Leon Burton, to a research institute in the harsh land of Aetheris, just to take care of him. One day, he discovers an asteroid. According to the law in our country, the person who discovers an asteroid holds the right to name it. Without even stopping to think, he says, "I'll name it Phoebe." Everyone is stunned. Naming an asteroid is a significant event, but Leon makes his decision too hastily. The person in charge asked again, "Are you sure you want to name it that?" Leon nods without hesitation. Standing in a corner where no one can see me, I can't stop crying. Only I knew that "Phoebe" is the name of his first love, Phoebe Jones. Wiping away my tears, I call my mother. "Mom, I've decided to marry Nathan. I'm leaving Aetheris."