Melodramatic Short Stories & Bias Revenge Novels

The man I'd been with for three years, my fiancé, had promised to leave everything behind in the States and move to Europe to join my family. For our future together, I had quietly arranged a transfer of massive assets in his name. The night I was finally ready to tell him everything, I came back to our safehouse and heard voices I wasn't supposed to hear. "Kane, are you seriously giving up your entire place in the mafia for some ordinary girl?" That was Alicia Holt, the daughter of a small-time mob boss who scraped by at the edges of New York. Kane let out a cold laugh, his voice dripping with contempt and calculation. "Give it all up? For that useless woman? Alicia, you're underestimating me. I'm only playing along to get her to sign over that Manhattan townhouse and her offshore funds into my name." He knew exactly how much I'd sacrificed to be with him. He knew I'd even defied my father. And none of it meant a damn thing to him. He just found me clingy, embarrassing, like a dog he couldn't shake. "That idiot actually thinks she's something. If it weren't for her money, I wouldn't even waste a glance on her." Kane pulled Alicia closer, his voice thick with arrogant contempt. "Once I've drained every last asset, I'm breaking off the engagement. Then it's just you and me, baby." Alicia giggled and playfully swatted at his chest. "What if she finds out?" "Finds out? She's just some sheltered rich girl with no backup and no clue." Kane scoffed like he'd just heard the funniest joke in the world. "What's she going to do?" I stood there and felt my fury turn into something ice-cold and perfectly still. Kane had no idea. For a few scraps of easy money, he'd just thrown away an entire European crime empire.

I left Seaport for Crellan, thinking I was about to marry Bryson. Instead, I got drugged and kidnapped on our engagement day. Barely conscious, I caught him talking to his assistant. "Doctor and kidnappers—handled?" Bryson said. "Get her kidney. Lily's out of time." The assistant wavered. "She's not in great shape. This could ruin her." That gave Bryson a flicker of guilt—but it vanished quick. "She's not fragile like Lily. She's a broke student. If her kidney didn't match, she wouldn't be living like this. That's worth it." His face stayed ice-cold. I clenched my fist so hard my nails dug in, blood pooling in my mouth. So that was true Bryson—a monster in disguise. He thought I wanted to sell my health for some empty marriage. Too bad I never wanted it.

On our wedding day, my fiancée humiliated me in front of everyone. She postponed the ceremony, not for an emergency, but to throw a lavish wedding for her childhood friend's pet hamster. Dressed in my tailored suit, I got shoved off the stage and was laughed at by everyone. My mom couldn't take the humiliation. Her heart gave out, and no ambulance could save her. Days after we buried her, my fiancée reappeared, demanding that I donate a kidney to that friend. The surgery nearly killed me, leaving me broken and betrayed. It prompted me to end things with her. She spiraled into regret, tormenting herself to win me back.

I'm diagnosed with late-stage cancer after undergoing a pre-employment medical checkup. My husband says the medication for my condition is expensive. He also says it can only relieve my pain, not treat the cause. I only have a year to live. Upon my husband's pleading, I agree to do an IVF. I endure the pain and put myself through torture to leave him with a child. However, I overhear him saying the child growing inside me isn't mine—it's his and his lover's. He's the one who wants me dead!

The day I found out I wasn't really an Adelson, Sharon—their real daughter—stormed in and stabbed me—over and over. Just like that, my shot at being a mom? Gone. Chuck Benetton, my fiancé, lost it. My parents swore they'd disown her. To "comfort" me, Chuck proposed on the spot. My parents handed me the severance letter—Sharon officially disowned—and told me to just focus on healing. Later, they said Sharon had run off and gotten trafficked in Nyamara, some hotspot for scams and lost souls. They said it served her right. And yeah... I believed them. Six years into the lie, I saw her—very much alive, baby bump and all, curled up against my husband like she owned him. "If I hadn't snapped back then, Yasmine never would've married you, " she said. "Thank God you and Mom and Dad backed me. Otherwise, that imposter would've landed me in jail. "She probably never guessed I've been right here, carrying your baby. Once I give birth, just fake an adoption. She can nanny our kid forever. "Thanks for everything, Chuck." She smiled like he was her hero. And he blushed. "Don't thank me. Marrying her was the only way to protect you. I'd do it all again." So yeah. The guy I thought loved me? He was always lying. My "parents"? They only cared about Sharon. If that's love, I want nothing to do with it.

My wife, Yasmin Lowe, falls in love with my pet snake. Every night, she claims she is too tired and refuses to let me touch her. In reality, she secretly climbs into the terrarium and spends intimate moments with the snake. After she leaves on a two-day business trip, the snake's temperament changes drastically and it nearly bites my father to death. Furious about this, he has the snake euthanized. What no one expects is that while the snake dies by euthanasia, my entire family dies at Yasmin's hands. "You killed the love of my life. All of you will go to hell with him!" When I open my eyes again, I am back on my wedding night. Beside me, Yasmin quietly lifts the blanket. I smile. Euthanasia? That would be letting them off far too easily.

After being reborn, I quietly cut all ties with my husband, Nathaniel Cole. I go to work alone. I watch movies alone. Even when I cook, I only make enough for one. All because in my last life, I had married him only to be neglected for 40 years. At the very end, he coldly pulled the oxygen tube from me, spitting out words filled with hatred. "If I had a choice, I never would've married you!" I died in pain, filled with resentment. When I open my eyes again, my mother is speaking to me and my sister. "According to the marriage agreement, one of you has to marry Nathaniel. Which one of you will it be?" I'm just about to refuse when my sister, Catherine Brown, steps forward. She shoots me a contemptuous glance and says, "Mom, I'll marry him."

To snatch a limited-edition piece of jewelry for his mistress, my blind brother was shoved down a flight of stairs. Ethan Sterling, one of the best surgeons in the country, refused to enter the operating room — all because of a tiny cut on his precious sweetheart's finger. He forged a forensic report and bought Daniel's life for a mere fifty thousand dollars. Even my own daughter turned against me: "You're a liar! Aunt Vivian is the best person in the whole world!" Later, in front of everyone, I stepped off the third-floor terrace and plunged into the void. Ethan Sterling lost his mind. He knelt by the river for three days and three nights, clawing his fingers raw against the stone. A year later, desperate to save his daughter from going blind, he knelt in a downpour begging that mysterious, world-renowned surgeon. I stood there holding my umbrella, utterly unmoved. "I'm afraid you have the wrong person, Mr. Sterling. Miss Holloway died a year ago." "I'm Mrs. Ashford. I'm here to acquire Sterling Medical."

It's Family Day at my daughter, Hannah Neel's, preschool, but my wife, Samantha Miller, says she has to work and tells both Hannah and me not to go. Seeing the disappointment on Hannah's face breaks my heart, so I bring her to school anyway. As soon as we step through the gates, I see Samantha. She's holding her childhood friend—Oscar Barnett's—hand, with a little boy clutching her other. The three of them look like a perfect family, laughing and chatting, as if they belong together. When Samantha sees us, her smile fades, and she lets go of Oscar's hand. "Zach, it's not what you think. Oscar's raising his son alone. Today's his fifth birthday, and he just wanted to give him a little taste of a mother's love," she says quickly. I study her for a moment, then kneel and gently take Hannah's hand in mine. "Sweetheart, say hello to the lady."

My parents’ adoptive daughter took three kids hiking with her, and they ended up dead. They wanted me to take the blame for her. My father forced me to kneel before the families of the victims and crushed my calf with his hiking pole. “These were the legs she used to take your kids hiking. I’ll make sure she never gets to hike again.” My mother legally disowned me. “Jenny will be breaking hiking records one day. I won’t let anyone bring up her shameful sister when that happens! She’s sacrificed so much for you all these years, and it’s time you paid her back.” My boyfriend promised me, “Jenny has nothing. She would not survive if she had to endure all this, but at least you have me. I’ll be here for you no matter what happens. They’re just angry, but they won’t send you to jail. You can come home once everything settles down.” To defend the reputation of my adoptive sister, he and my parents worked together to falsify evidence and send me to jail. “It’s to protect you,” they promised, “so the families don’t take revenge on you.” They did not know I had already given up on them.

After visiting Grandpa at the care home, I got a text from my boyfriend, Lucas Mercer. “Sofia, come to the office tomorrow at ten. I’ve got a surprise for you.” I thought of the proposal plan I’d spotted on his laptop. I smiled to myself and booked the first available flight. But when I walked into that office, I froze. Lucas was down on one knee, holding out a diamond ring to my cousin, Ashley. Ten years ago, she’d hired someone to drive a car into my parents and kill them. Then she’d trapped me in the fire that followed. “Ashley, I’ve been practicing for five years. Will you marry me?” His eyes were full of nothing but her. I dug my nails into my palm. This year also happened to be the fifth year Lucas and I had been together. “Yes.” Ashley smiled and produced a document. “Since you’ve been loyal to me for five years, my father decided to throw in an extra five million as a bonus!” The room erupted. I stood there watching the celebration. The Harlow Group investment agreement I’d been holding was now a crumpled ball of paper in my fist. I turned and dropped it in the trash, then called my assistant. “Lucas Mercer. Cut him. Pull up the updated list of fiancé candidates.” Ashley had no idea I’d already returned to the Harlow family as the heir apparent. Lucas had no idea that by chasing five million, he’d just walked away from fifty.

My husband worked overtime in the studio and suffered from an explosion. His body was blown to pieces. When my bestie frantically told me the news, I just nodded calmly. She called and texted me nonstop. She urged me to go to the site to recognize my husband's body. I blacklisted her and bought a ticket to go abroad. In my previous life, when I heard the news, I stopped at nothing and rushed to my husband's studio. However, I only saw my husband's cold ashes. My bestie said that my husband had poured out his troubles to her once. My husband said that I had run up a mountainous debt for gambling. He wanted a divorce, but I threatened him that he would have a sky-high debt if he divorced me. Even my mother cried and accused me of often going to the casino and taking men home at midnight. But none of this was true. I treated my husband very well; just a few days ago, I gave him a million-dollar watch as a gift. And I had never done anything related to gambling. Facing their accusation, I chose to call the police to prove my innocence. However, the police discovered my diamond necklace at the explosion site, where forensic experts also found my fingerprints. I failed to prove my innocence and became the heinous murderer who killed my husband. My mother took me to court for justice and took over my business empire. In jail, I was retaliated and died. When I opened my eyes again, I regained my life on the day when my husband suffered from the explosion.

I was Callum's secret mate for twelve years. I managed his internal affairs, placated the elders, guarded the borders, fought off rogues, and handled every mess he didn't want to deal with. But he never looked me in the eye in public. Even when I was pregnant and attacked by rogue wolves, he was having sex with the daughter of an Alpha from the neighboring wolf pack. I didn't hesitate to sever my mate bond and leave. Five years later, I met him again at a Multi-Pack Council banquet. He looked at my logo-free clothes, his eyes filled with arrogant disdain: "Sera, I'm marrying Vivienne next month. She's an Alpha's daughter; only she deserves to be Luna. But I can send you back to the wolf pack to be my mistress." I scoffed: "Save it." The next second, my daughter called: "Mommy! Mommy, when are you coming home? Maisie misses you!" Hearing my daughter's voice, Callum regained his arrogant confidence: "Sera. That's my pup, isn't it? You still love me. Even after you left, you kept our baby." I stared at him for a second. Then I slapped him across the face. He didn't know that our child had been miscarried during the rogue wolf attack, and Maisie was my and Alpha King's pup.

On the day the privileged heiress, Olivia Cruz, and I register our marriage, she leaves me and Mom stranded on a deserted road before running off to her childhood sweetheart, Brad McCoy. Rage triggers Mom's cardiac arrest, so I call Olivia in anxiety, begging her to come back and save Mom. But she just says a cold line before ending the call, "Not this again. Every time I have to step away, your mom suddenly has heart pain. Your family sure knows how to put on a show, huh?" With that, Mom misses her chance at rescue and dies. That night, a mutual friend posts online. "Growing up together is a whole different kind of bond!" The post shows Olivia perched on Brad's lap with his hand resting on her waist. It's the perfect picture of intimacy that leaves little to the imagination. I expressionlessly tap on the like button before typing my comment. "Is this what you meant by 'something important'?" The friend sneers. "Relax, it's just a game of Truth or Dare. I can't believe you're taking it so seriously." Olivia doesn't even bother to explain, but when I walk away without a word, she finally panics.

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 dad died in a car accident when I was ten. Years later, I discover the truth. Dad's death wasn't an accident. Someone tampered with the brakes, and the culprit is none other than my mom. Dad died, not knowing that Mom had been with another man named Mason Shaw. Less than three months later, she married Mason and raised their son, Jason Gere, as her chosen successor. She also stole Dad's final composition, claiming it was an original work by Jason. 15 years later, I sit on the judging panel of an international piano competition. Jason, the so-called prodigy, is playing Dad's final masterpiece onstage. I press the buzzer, stopping the performance. "This piece isn't yours." My voice echoes through the microphone, reaching every person in the audience. "I refuse to mark you."

Ian Tost was the prince of the notorious underworld. Everyone in Harbor City knew he spoiled me rotten. He even went so far as to hire ninety-nine female bodyguards to keep me from harm. It did not prevent a kidnapping attempt on me. One of those bodyguards, Cece Yates, ended up with nothing more than a scratch. Ian immediately brought in the nation’s top medical specialists to treat her. To comfort her, he even took her to the Maldives for a vacation and gifted her an island. Not long after they returned from their trip, Beatrix Kazinsky, my mother, suddenly suffered a stroke and was hospitalized. Then, Michael Kazinsky, my younger brother, died in an accident during a competition. I burst into the morgue while in tears, only to overhear Ian comforting Cece. “All right now, it was my fault you got hurt last time. I’ve made Mira’s family pay for it. You’ve got too much grace to hold a grudge against her.” With my nails digging into my palms, I finally realized everything that had happened to my family was Ian’s doing. It was all just because his precious bodyguard got hurt because of me! I stumbled out of the hospital with my brother’s death certificate in a daze. On my phone, messages from that person kept coming. It added up to ninety-nine share transfer agreements, along with his promise. [As long as you want me, my arms will always be open for you.]

From the time I was ten until I turned eighteen, my parents made me write 299 IOUs. Every time I needed money, I had to borrow it and pay it back as an adult. Then I got into a car accident. I needed money for surgery but was still short by 3,000. With no other options, I went to my parents for help. But they just gave me cold smiles. “Clara, you’re eighteen now. We have no obligation to give you money anymore. If you need it, write another IOU.” While holding back tears, I wrote my 300th IOU. After my surgery, I saw my adopted sister’s social media post. In the pictures, she was celebrating her 18th birthday on a cruise. She was the center of attention, like a princess. My parents had given her a luxury apartment in the city and a Maserati as birthday gifts. Even my childhood friend was looking at her with love in his eyes. She said they were the ones she loved and thanked them for giving her the best of everything. I looked down at the crumpled IOU in my hand and suddenly laughed. Once I paid off my debt, I would no longer need such a family.

As the younger sister of the most powerful Alpha in the Southern Territory, I dated Damon, my brother's biggest rival for Alpha King, for five years without telling my brother and parents. We were in love for five years, and he gave me everything. He always tells me his wolf can't control its desire when it sees me. That's why he likes to have sex with me anywhere, anytime—even out in the wild, he doesn't care. But the day before our mating ceremony, I found out that my fiancé was dating me just to threaten my brother to quit the election with our sex tape. After knowing the truth, I decided to give up everything and leave, but my fiancé humbly knelt on the ground and begged me to come back.

I’m the Vettori family princess. The only one. It was our fifth anniversary. A big dinner party at the estate. A waiter spilled red wine on my husband Marco, heir to the Rossi family. My best friend, Sofia, slapped the waiter. Hard. Then she was all over Marco, helping him out of his jacket. Her hand lingered on his waist. A second too long. I just stood there, watching. Sofia saw me. "I was just closer, that's all. Helping him clean up. Don't overthink it." I just smiled. Grabbed my glass. I went to make the rounds with the old dons from the other families. I would finish this night with my head held high. Later that night, Marco crawled into my bed, stinking of booze. His hands were on my waist. He wanted sex. I pushed him off. "The alliance is over," I said, my voice dead. "We're finished." Marco sobered up fast. His face went cold. "I'm trying to apologize here. You're divorcing me because Sofia helped me with my jacket?" I laughed. He didn’t get it. Not until I threw the proof of his betrayal in his face. Not until I cut him off from my family. Then he was on his knees, crying, begging me to forgive him.