Tragic Love Short Stories & Bias Face Slapping Novels

My husband, Charles Marino, sent me three videos in a row to let me know where he was. One was from the docks, where he was inspecting a shipment. Another showed him stepping off the cargo ship. The last showed him arriving at the casino. Each video showed exactly where he was. My doctor glanced at my phone and smiled. "Your husband really loves you. He checks in with you all the time. If I remember correctly, he took a bullet for you four years ago." "Men like that are rare these days. He'd never cheat on you, and he'd give his life for you." I folded the pregnancy test results and smiled back. "He's just changed. That's all." Four years ago, during a shootout at the docks, Charles took a bullet for me. Everyone else was falling back, but he charged in and shielded me with his body. The bullet went straight through his shoulder, two finger-widths from his heart. That fight cost me the baby I was carrying. That was also when I decided, deep down, that he was the one. But less than a week later, I went to see him at the hospital and caught him in bed with my best friend, Susie Clarke. To win my forgiveness, he begged me and hit himself over and over. His wound tore open, and blood seeped out. Before they rushed him back to the ER, he grabbed my hand and whispered, "I'd give my life for you. Why can't you forgive me this once?" "Without you, I'd rather be dead." In the end, I gave in and forgave him. From then on, he always checked in to tell me where he was. I tucked the test results into my bag and told the doctor, "It wasn't easy for me to get pregnant. I'm going home early to surprise him." I could already picture how excited Charles would be. But the moment I opened the front door, I froze. The room was a mess. It was the same scene I'd walked in on in that hospital room four years ago. Now it was happening all over again, right in front of me.

Everyone in Salt City knew that Michael, the city’s richest man, doted on his wife as if his life depended on it. As his wife, I was once the object of everyone’s envy. But when Rachel appeared, I realized for the first time that even the one who loved you the most did not have their heart set in stone. Afraid I would find out, he hid Rachel in a villa on the outskirts of Salt City and spoiled her beyond imagination, all in a place I could not see. Yet every time he was intimate with her, Michael would still warn her coldly, “If you ever let Evelyn find out about this, your good days will be over.” But she was never obedient. Relying on Michael’s favor, she surreptitiously flaunted herself before me every day. Her presence constantly reminded me that Michael was no longer the man who only had me in his heart. So, I chose to respect his decision and vanish from his sight.

I'm the Luna of the Blood Moon Pack. Yet, I have to get approval from my mate's secretary for every single cent I spend. Alpha Killian noticed I hadn't submitted an expense request in three days. He probably thought I had finally learned how to be a proper Luna. So, he spoke to me through our Mind-link. "I approved the medical bills for your foster mother. From now on, if you want an allowance, just tell Serena. Stop begging for scraps. It makes you look like a joke." "I know you low-ranking wolves had it rough growing up. But you're my mate now. Drop the petty tricks." He didn't know the truth. The moment his words echoed in my head, I had just finished signing my official Rejection papers. When I leave this pack house, I can only take a few things with me. I'll take the white T-shirt and jeans I wore the day I arrived three years ago. No one would believe it. In the eyes of outsiders, the Luna had it all. Yet, after three years of being his mate, I couldn't even find a few decent outfits in my closet. All the evening gowns and jewelry were locked in a high-tech safe. Whenever I needed them, I had to request a temporary passcode from Killian's secretary, Serena. All because he thought my low-ranking bloodline and poor background meant I'd waste pack funds. Just three days ago, my foster mother's condition got much worse. I asked him for two hundred thousand dollars for an emergency surgery. But Serena purposely stalled the approval. She delayed it until my foster mother died in that cold hospital bed. Killian never knew. I only endured him for three years for one reason. He controlled the pack's medical funds. He held the money that could've given my foster mother a few more years to live. Now that she was gone, I had no reason to be his Luna anymore.

Jim Charleston is my foster brother. He and I have been dating in secret for 10 years. On the day we decide to go public, Jim receives an undercover mission assignment to Duskhaven, where he has slim chances of returning alive. The night before he left, he held me and promised, "If I come back alive, I will marry you in a grand wedding. I'll stay by your side forever." Foolishly, I broke ties with my family and waited for him. I became the laughingstock of the entire high society circle. Three years later, Jim returns but with a ruined reputation and enormous debts. Kneeling like a broken man before our father, he firmly declares, "I promised Anne I would take care of her for life, Dad!" The woman named Anne hid timidly behind Jim, clutching her pregnant belly tightly. Dad turns to me instinctively. Everyone is waiting for me to lose my mind and cause a scene. However, I just smile. Right then and there, I accept the engagement ring from the good-for-nothing playboy. On the day of my engagement party, Jim drives in recklessly. With a gun in his hand, he shouts, "Cecilia Forrest! If you dare go through with this marriage, I'll kill him!"

My wife, Cassia, was a wood nymph. A cursed one. Forbidden to love mortals. But she fell for me anyway. Every time her heart fluttered for me, the gods struck her down with agony. She willingly endured that torture ninety-nine times just for a chance to be with me. Then, demons dragged me to Tartarus. Hellfire and whips became my sun and moon. Right as I was about to break, I remembered a prayer Cassia taught me—a desperate whisper to the gods. It finally worked. But instead of help, I heard Cassia talking to her patron goddess, Hecate. "Cassia, how could you bargain with the Furies? You let them drag Aiden to Tartarus!" Cassia's voice choked with desperate tears. "Adonis was supposed to suffer this fate. But he's a fragile mortal. This would destroy his soul! I had no choice if I wanted to save him." "Aiden is a child of prophecy. His soul is strong. The Fates watch over him. He'll survive." "Once I save Adonis, I can stay in the mortal realm forever. Then, I'll use my eternal life and all my love to repay the hell he's enduring for me." My heart shattered. As the monsters closed in on me, I stopped fighting. I gave up.

My dad arrives at the hotel after taking three bus rides from the town two hours before the wedding starts. He's wearing the old suit that he has kept for the past ten or so years. The cuffs have gone white from all the washing, and his shoes shine brightly from all the polishing. Before entering, Dad has specifically pinned the red boutonniere to his chest several times while looking at his reflection in the glass of the hotel's main entrance just so he can get it right. After all, it symbolizes his status as the bride's father. When Dad is about to take his seat, he grasps the card that shows his seat as he approaches my future husband, Elliott Chambers, tentatively. "Elliott, there seems to be a mistake with my seat." Elliott merely glances at the card before pushing it back to Dad. "Your seat is correct. There are limited spots at the main table, so you'll have to sit at a spare table at the back." Dad is stunned by Elliott's answer. "But it says here that I'm meant to sit at the main table…" Elliott frowns at Dad. "This is a last-minute adjustment. The shareholders and important clients of Chambers Corp will be attending my wedding today. Not everyone gets to sit at the main table." Dad looks down at his old suit before he slowly stuffs the card back into his pocket. He wants to take off the boutonniere, but the pin gets stuck in the fabric of his jacket. The more he wants to take it off, the more his hand keeps shaking. That's when Elliott's mother, Catherine Aldridge, speaks up. "All the seats are the same, Patrick. Don't cause any trouble for Elliott now." Dad quickly nods in response. "You're right. I'm fine with any seat." Then, he picks up the old wooden chest that's sitting by his feet before heading toward the spare table that's located in the corner. I raise my head, only to see a seating card titled "The Carvers" being placed on the most obvious spot of the main table. At the moment, Elliott is helping Claire Carver's mother into her seat. As for my dad, he's hugging the chest containing the wedding gifts meant for me while sitting by the kitchen door.

Just because Tristan Whitfield wants to know how long I can hold my breath, Celine Harper kicks me straight into the pool. I go pale, screaming for help, but nobody pulls me out until I've already blacked out. Someone nearby whispers, "Don't you think Celine went a little too far?" But she just scoffs, not the least bit worried. "Relax. Gavin's a pushover. Give him a plane ticket to go somewhere fun, and he'll forget all about it." When I come to, I do exactly what she predicts. I get on the flight to Ridgemont and never return. Two weeks later, Celine can't stand it anymore and flies out after me, furious. "You're really holding a grudge over that?"

I run into my former sister-in-law, whom I haven't seen in ages, during a prenatal checkup at the hospital. Wynne Jenkins glances at my belly. And just like she always does, her face crinkles with disdain as she starts nagging me. "Look at you, wandering around with a pregnant belly at your age," she hollers. "What if something happens to my baby nephew? Can't you be a little more sensible and stop making Sean worry all the time?" She must have forgotten. A year ago, Mom was gravely ill. Her only wish was to see me married with children. I staked everything and proposed to Sean Jenkins. On our big day, I waited from dawn until nightfall—only to receive a 30-second voice message from him. "I won't show up at the ceremony, and I won't marry you. This is what you get for bullying Lav." Mom was so enraged by Sean's recklessness that she suffered a heart attack and passed away. After taking care of her funeral, I erased every trace of myself. With what little I had left, I fled Horton—while Sean was still abroad, skiing with Lavender Quinn. And yet now, Wynne says, "Sean spends more than two weeks every month flying around looking for you. He's lost nearly 20 pounds in less than a year. "He's been waiting for you, Janelle. Now that you're back, please stay and build a family with him." I smirk and raise my hand, flaunting the ring on my finger. "Sorry, I like to keep a low profile. I'm already married, but we kept the ceremony simple. That's why you didn't know."

My boyfriend of six years, Liam Sherman, proposes to his long-time crush, Vivi Johansen, on my birthday. With that, the passionate love between us is a thing of the past. I come to my senses and distance myself from him, choosing to put our relationship behind us. As such, I decided to go along with the arranged marriage my family has planned.

Phoebe Marsh had carelessly submitted the wrong quotation, causing the company to suffer a massive loss and leaving us facing enormous compensation claims. To win the contract back, I attended what was basically a trap disguised as a dinner to apologize on the company's behalf. I was forced to drink until my stomach bled, enduring humiliation after humiliation just to smooth everything over. After the matter was settled, Phoebe comforted me and promised that one day, she would give me a grand wedding. But the day before our wedding, she showed up in a wedding gown and threw herself into Julian Stratford's arms instead. When I demanded an explanation, she brushed it off casually. "You were just some nobody who clawed his way out of a backwater village. What made you think I'd actually choose you? Besides, Julian is the general manager's son. The difference between you two is night and day. But if you really can't let me go, I guess I wouldn't mind keeping you around." Phoebe actually wanted me to be her lover. That slap ended everything between us. I turned around and agreed to marry the Grey family's heiress—my childhood sweetheart. What I never expected was that our weddings would be held on the same day, in the same hotel. As I stepped through the hotel entrance, Phoebe arrived with a crowd of our former coworkers and blocked my path. "Cassian Frost, you actually came to crash my wedding? Let me make this clear—I won't let anyone ruin my perfect wedding with Julian. Since you insist on embarrassing yourself, you'd better apologize to Julian and beg for his forgiveness." The crowd immediately burst into jeers and cheers. Phoebe kicked the back of my knees, forcing me to the ground. She even stripped off my clothes to humiliate me in public. Only when Evelyne Grey arrived did Phoebe instantly switch to a flattering smile. "Ms. Grey, my ex-boyfriend completely lost his mind. He actually claimed to be your husband. But don't worry, I already dealt with him. About that Upper Hollow contract… Do you think we can sign it now?"

Every year at the Grant family's Christmas charity ball, their unmarried daughter's first dance always opened the auction. By tradition, the man who won the dance was expected to marry her. Everyone was waiting for my childhood sweetheart, Lucas Reed, to raise his paddle for me. The auctioneer called for bids three times. Lucas never raised his paddle. Just before the gavel fell, Lucas's phone rang, and he walked straight out of the ballroom. In the dead silence that followed, Adrian Holt raised his paddle. "The Holt family will cover any shortfall in tonight's fundraising." Eight point seven million dollars. With that one bid, he closed the gap on the whole night's fundraising. Then he walked over to me and held out his hand. "If he doesn't want this dance, give it to me. "Elena, I fell for you the moment I saw you." Six months later, I married him. Adrian was good to me after the wedding. He taught me how to invest and brought me in on the Holt Group's key projects. When my father's company was on the verge of bankruptcy, he handed over all the cash he had and didn't even ask for collateral. I was scared of thunder, so on stormy nights he held my hand until I fell asleep. Even when he didn't get home until four in the morning, he always looked in on me before anything else. He used to say, "Elena, the best thing I've ever done in my life was raise that paddle." I believed him for two years. In our second year of marriage, I was kidnapped on my way home from a trip. I was gone for three whole months. When I finally came back, I was pregnant, and Lucas, who had just rescued me, stood at my side. And the husband I'd loved for two years pinned me to a hospital bed with his own hands and killed our baby.

Back when I worked part-time as an international student advisor in Averon, I met plenty of mistresses and sugar babies looking to get a fancy degree overseas. Quite a few younger girls also came to Averon, where sex work was legal in certain parts of the country. They weren't interested in ordinary jobs; they wanted wealthy clients willing to pay well just to spend time with them. I was no saint as I also made a decent cut from making those arrangements happen. That was until one day, when a sweet, innocent-looking girl stumbled into my office. "Uhm... Are you Cruz Jackson? Could you help me find a college that isn't too expensive?" she asked, nervously fidgeting with her fingers. After a moment of hesitation, she added, "And... you must know quite a few rich guys, right? Do you think you could... introduce me to one?" Her voice grew quieter with each word, and her face was flushed crimson by the time she managed to finish her request. I took a drag on my cigarette and shook my head. "Trust me, sweetheart. You're not cut out for that life. Just focus on your studies." Before I could say another word, she suddenly fell to her knees and pleaded, "Please, Cruz! If I can't find a rich guy to support me, there's no way I'll have enough money to finish college!" I believed her like a complete idiot. I even gave her a credit card tied to my account and told her to use it for tuition and living expenses. … After she left, my buddy Kai Pearson came back to the office. When I told him what had happened, he let out a low whistle. "Hold on. I know that girl," he said, raising an eyebrow. "That's the Ashford Angel. Half the guys in Averon are crazy about her." Then, he leaned in and lowered his voice. "From what I've heard, she's still a virgin. A girl that gorgeous walks right into your office, and you didn't even make a move?" He shot me a knowing look before pointing upstairs. "Just give it two weeks. If you don't make a move, those rich bastards sure as hell will. And you know better than I do that they'll eat her alive."

The day my doctor told me I was dying because I couldn't afford to keep getting treatment, James Zane finally came home with his fiancée. He'd made a name for himself by then, and he was bringing her back to meet his family. When he saw me at the hospital, hobbling along on crutches and gasping for breath every few steps, he asked, "When you left me for $100,000 back then, did you ever think karma would catch up with you?" I looked at the mocking curl of his lips and gave a quiet laugh. "If I apologize and tell you how sorry I am, will you give me another five hundred thousand?" His expression changed instantly. The look in his eyes became impossible to read. Before he left, he said, "I'm getting married next month." I nodded. "Congratulations. But I won't be there." After all, I probably wouldn't live to see next month.

Yves Riverson had a new razor. It was royal blue, wrapped in red silk, and he placed it at the very bottom of his suitcase as though it were some priceless treasure. During the flight, the plane suddenly hit turbulence. The alarm screeched through the cabin, and in that moment, the thing he clutched was not my hand. It was the razor someone else had given him. Only after the plane landed did he seem to remember I was there. He gently caressed my hand and told me not to be afraid. I said nothing, nor did I push him away. After we left the airport, I watched him eagerly pick up his phone. "Yeah, yeah, it's fine." Then he turned and saw me. The smile on his face froze. "Just talking to my parents." I nodded and ended the call with his parents. The car was moving slowly, and he was happily chatting with that person. I was scrolling the screen. The jewelry purchases made through our linked-payment account. That person made sure to note that the razor must be royal blue. "To Ms. Samantha Shaw." Samantha's laughter drifted faintly from the phone. I looked at my tired reflection in the car window and suddenly blurted out, "When did you start having an affair with my best friend?"

The birthday gift that I've given to my wife, Jasmine Gunner, is discovered inside a kennel by the streets. Because of this incident, I get made fun of by the entire elite circle in Harborough. It's Jasmine's birthday once again. Everyone teases me, saying that the gift I've prepared for her must be the most expensive one again. "As expected of the fashion sense of someone who's struck it rich all of a sudden. He thinks that the more expensive something is, the better it must be." "I wonder which kennel it will appear in this time." The scions continue laughing among themselves. But soon, they realize that I've never given Jasmine a single thing for her birthday. In fact, I never bother showing up even though Jasmine's birthday party is coming to an end soon. "Henry, where's my birthday gift? Also, you're being very unscrupulous! To think that you've missed out on my birthday the whole day! Do you have any idea how stormy my family looked earlier?" Jasmine glares at me, her expression dark. I rake my fingers through my messy hair, finally remembering that today seems to be Jasmine's birthday. "Sorry, I've completely forgotten about it. I'll have my assistant pick out a gift for you tomorrow to make amends to you." The swirling emotions in Jasmine's eyes dissolve instantly. She looks at me as though she can't believe what she just heard. "What did you just say?"

In the seventh year of our relationship, my boyfriend, Hunter Jenkin, seemed to have lost interest in everything. Desperate to figure out what still excited him, I bought a wristband that measured romantic excitement and fastened it around his wrist myself. When we watched a movie together, the wristband registered just 1 point. When we climbed a snow-covered mountain and kissed at the summit, the score was only 5. On his birthday, when I slipped a ring onto his finger, it rose to a mere 8. No matter what I did, I could never spark any real excitement in him. I was almost ready to give up, and I even suspected that the wristband was nothing more than an overpriced gimmick. Then, on the first night of Hunter’s business trip, my phone suddenly began vibrating nonstop. [Your partner’s romantic excitement score: 90.] I stared at the screen, stunned. By 1 a.m., the score had hit 100 and stayed there all night. I opened the location tracker, only to find an address so familiar that it sent a chill through me. It was the home of my best friend, Candace Lindhurst. Hunter had not lost his capacity for love. He had simply directed it all to someone else.

Five years after my household was sentenced to death, in my fifth year as a slave at the military camp, someone suddenly brought me away and said I had to marry the princess. Before I could understand what was happening, I ended up outside my family's mansion. It was supposed to be destroyed. I looked at my father and older sister, who were supposed to be long dead. My sister helped me down from the carriage as though nothing was wrong. “It’s been five years, Michael. Have you repented for your mistakes? “It’s all because you insisted on marrying the princess and made Ethan attempt suicide. If you hadn’t been so stubborn, we wouldn’t have punished you like that. “Now the princess is pregnant with Ethan’s child, and she’s graciously allowed you to marry her. What do you say?” It was only then that I realized the death sentence was a lie. They faked their deaths and threw me into a military camp for five years of torture, all to punish me for “mistreating” my younger brother. I was so shaken that I coughed up blood. My father waved me off with a frown. “We just sent you to the army to teach you a lesson. There’s no need to put on such an act. “The princess still misses you, but she’s bearing Ethan’s child. You have to respect Ethan’s decisions and put him first, you hear? “Come on, let’s get ready for your wedding.” Looking at his waving hand, I suddenly remembered my “masters” from the military camp. My knees buckled, and I slapped myself instinctively. “I’m sorry, Master, it’s all my fault! “Please give me three days! I’ll die after three days!”

When I realized my soulmate Darius was still hung up on his former lover Cassia and her child, I started teaching our son to call him "Lord Darius." That night, Theo accidentally stepped into a thorn trap set by forest nymphs. He was poisoned by a minor curse that sent his magic spiraling out of control and plunged him into darkness. But Darius turned and left because Cassia called him on his messaging crystal late at night. I touched my son's forehead as his divine aura dimmed from the pain, and made him say, "Goodbye, Lord." On Theo's birthday, Darius skipped our celebration because Cassia tearfully complained that her child needed a father. I didn't say much. I just had little Theo explain to the guests, "The Lord has important divine duties to attend to." My boy would always struggle for a long time before forcing those words out. Until Darius finally realized he owed us far too much. He offered to go to the temple and commission an enchanted portrait of our family. But right there inside the Portrait Pavilion, Cassia sent another message through the crystal. "Darius, I am begging you to come to the Divine Academy. Could you just pretend to be Milo's father for a bit? The young gods here are all mocking him for being a bastard..." A flash of guilt crossed Darius's face. He was just about to bend down and explain things to our son. But this time, Theo did not need my prompting. He just waved his hand. "It is okay, Lord Darius. Hurry up and go be with your other child. Just having me and Mom in the portrait is enough."

My wife, Cheryl Sharpley, has a low sex drive. Every time we're intimate, she keeps a strict track of the time. Tonight is no different. We're only halfway through when the special notification on her phone goes off. It's a custom alert, reserved for one person. Her secretary, Henry Sadler, sounds extremely upset. "Ms. Sharpley, I dreamed about you. My chest hurts so much…" Without a second thought, Cheryl gets dressed and climbs out of bed. Pressing my lips together, I lower my eyes and reach out to catch her hand. "It's late. We haven't even—" "Henry is all alone in this city with no one to rely on. I'm his boss. I can't just ignore him." She doesn't even look at me as she says that. Calmly, she slips her hand free and stands before the mirror, applying fresh lipstick to her lips. "Today's task is complete," she adds. "I'll make up the time to you next time." My breathing falters. That's all I am to Cheryl—a task. Not long after she leaves, a message from Henry pops up on my phone. The attached photo shows him leaning against her shoulder. "Joseph, I'm really sorry. I was just so scared of losing her. I'll make sure she makes it up to you next time. You'll have to make do with your hand tonight." I read every word in silence. Quietly, I get out of bed, take a long shower, and strip the sheets from the bed, tossing them straight into the trash. I then change into a fresh set of pajamas. At that moment, I decide that I no longer want her in my life.

To fund my daughter's medical treatment, I consider reconnecting with my estranged family until an expected phone call changes everything. "Sir, your diamond necklace has arrived. You may come tomorrow to pick it up." After confirming the order is placed using my and my wife's contract information, my hope sparks. Perhaps the medical bills will finally be covered. When I arrive at the luxury boutique to claim the necklace, the sales clerk frowns, eyeing me from head to toe. "You're saying… you bought this necklace?" I nod, irritated by the condescension. "What happened to the service? Did all the luxury jewelers forget how to treat customers while I was away?" I said inwardly. The clerk flashes me a polite smile and turns to "retrieve" the item, but in reality, he radios the security. "Security, we have a suspected thief here."