Bittersweet Short Stories & Novels

He grows up with Sabrina Reed, who used to be his brother's fiancée. He's always respected her as his future sister-in-law. But after his brother's untimely death, she slowly becomes the woman who holds his heart. He thinks she'll eventually marry him… until she shows up with her hand in another man's. She says, "I'm getting married. From today onward, you can only think of me as your sister!"

The day before the ceremony, my Alpha Heir mate Lysander brought home an Omega who still bore an old mark — and insisted she become his Luna. The beautiful, fragile-looking Omega leaned against his chest, her eyes red. "I can't. If you keep me, my mate will die without me." Lysander answered lightly, "Then I'll give up my Luna-to-be. We'll trade. I'll order him to break your mark at once." The Omega laughed softly. "That’s for the best. But are you sure you don't mind?" Lysander smiled back. "A dull puppet who spent her whole life waiting to be marked by me. How could she compare to you?" She glanced around the chamber and pouted. "I don't like any of this. It was all prepared for her." Lysander kissed her forehead. "I'll replace all of it. Something better. For you." Their love story became the talk of the realm. And no one cared that I was the "dull puppet" who had been traded away.

After I married Riccardo, the Don of the Moretti family, he paraded a string of mistresses in front of me. He never gave me a second glance. But on our tenth anniversary—right after my father’s death—he suddenly promised me half of his empire. The catch? In return, he planned to seize control of all my family’s arms-dealing routes. That pissed off his favorite mistress. She cornered him on his yacht, demanding he take his words back. Then she fell overboard and died. An “accident.” After she died, Riccardo went insane. He took it all out on me. He tied me to the back of his yacht. He dragged me through the sea, a human anchor, until the rocks shattered my legs, crippling me for life. I became the family’s shame. Then, as I lay helpless, he finished the job with poison. Then I opened my eyes. I was back on the day Angelo Marino—the head of our rival family—proposed to me. In my last life, my family forced me to say no. He came for me, a one-man army. He killed Riccardo, but died in the process. This time, I looked at his kind face and nodded. Yes. But as we embraced, Riccardo appeared. He ripped me from Angelo's arms and claimed me as his own. That’s when I realized the cruelest joke of all. My monster was back, too.

“Wendy, are you absolutely sure you want to sign this document?” The Elder’s voice rang in my ears—cold, distant. “Once your bond with Alpha John is dissolved, you’ll lose everything tied to the Blackthorn Pack.” I gripped the pen so hard my knuckles turned white. “Yes. I’m sure.” But just as the tip touched the paper— BANG! The door was kicked open with a violent crash. Alpha John stormed in, eyes bloodshot, and wrapped his hand around my throat. “You dare?!” Blood slipped from the corner of my lips… but I laughed. Because I knew—he would never discover the truth. That his dear uncle, Alpha Vincent, was hiding in my closet at this very moment. And the fresh bite mark on my lower belly… still burned from last night. As if fate was mocking me, my sweet little sister Penny sent a message right then: “Sis, wanna know a secret? That miscarriage you had? John planned it. He made it happen.” Then the TV flickered to life with a breaking live broadcast— There she was, Penny, gently stroking her swollen belly as she smiled into the camera. “John and I are expecting our baby next month,” she announced proudly to the entire Pack. And Alpha John—my “husband”—stood beside her, lovingly kissing her forehead. Like I never existed. Like I wasn’t the Luna written in law. “Miranda,” my wolf snarled in my head, “Rip those traitors apart—now!” But I didn’t. I wiped the blood from my mouth, and dialed the number I hadn’t called in five long years. “Vincent,” I said calmly, “Come get me.”

My family sold one of their properties to put me through school abroad. Nathan Kingsley and I had been together three years. Two of those were long-distance. Through those two years of me alone overseas, he never broke contact — airport pickups, long phone calls, every anniversary remembered. I'd never once doubted him. I thought distance hadn't beaten us. The day I flew home, he was waiting at Arrivals with a bouquet of flowers. He smiled and said, "Finally." We set the engagement date. We picked out the dress. We booked the reception. The day the wedding march began and I stood at the top of the aisle looking at him, I thought — these three years were worth every minute. Then the doors behind me opened. My sister walked into the chapel, in a white dress, and slid her arm through his. She smiled at me. "Sorry, sis. Those airport pickups? I'm the one who sent him. For the last three years, he's been mine the whole time."

"Jump. You love me to death, don't you? Didn't you say you'd do anything for me?" Ethan Hart wanted me to throw myself off the observation deck of the tallest tower downtown, live, in front of the millions of people watching the broadcast. I stood on the wrong side of the railing. Below me, traffic streamed through the streets and neon flickered in the distance. His friends clapped and cheered. Vivian Lane laughed softly and curled herself against his arm. Ethan's grin turned vicious. "Come on, don't waste everyone's time. Jump, and I'll marry you." He'd made me a promise once. Finish a hundred of his demands, and he would marry me. When his company was circling bankruptcy, he told me to hand over everything I owned, and I did. Then he moved Vivian into my house in the suburbs and left me to sleep in a motel. The night he was tangled up with Vivian at a private party, he sent me over with something for his hangover, and made a point of telling me to bring a box of condoms, the right size. I stood at the door holding the soup I'd made, and heard him laugh. "She's my ATM. I use her, then I throw her out." No matter how far it went, I'd done all ninety-nine. This was the last one: jump. He thought I'd hesitate, thought I'd cry and beg him to pick something else. I didn't. I let go and fell. The wind roared in my ears, and the whole lit-up city slid past me. I heard him shout, heard the crowd scream, and underneath all of it, the one voice I'd waited too long to hear. [Congratulations, host. Emotional conquest progress: one hundred percent. Reward delivered. Your mother's terminal illness is fully cured.]

The day I came back to the Bennett family as the real heiress, Romina, the fake one, looked at me with red-rimmed eyes and said she wanted to give the engagement back to me. "Don't bother. I'm already seeing someone." I rested a hand on my barely noticeable belly and said, half joking, "If you feel that bad about it, how about you just cash me out instead?" The words had barely left my mouth before a few lines of text drifted across my vision. [lmaooo the villainess is still scheming for money at a time like this. can we please skip ahead to the part where the male lead puts her in her place.] [I came for the sweet romance between the lead and the fake heiress heroine, not some side character throwing a fit because she's got a baby bump to wave around] [spoiler from me! the villainess gets thrown out of the family, the lead ends up hating her, and she dies in childbirth. throwing confetti!] I clicked my tongue. How could I possibly cling to a strange man? Then footsteps came from behind me. Romina walked over, crying, and introduced me. "Orlando, this is my sister, Ophelia. The engagement was supposed to be hers." I turned around, and my whole body went rigid. It was the patron who'd kept me for five years, the father of the child I was carrying.

When I was three months pregnant, my Don husband’s so-called step sister, Ruby, showed up at my door. Her swollen belly was impossible to miss, “Donna, since my due date is so close, I thought you should know… the Don’s heir is in my belly.” She laid everything in front of me—intimate photos of her and Caleb, records of the weekly money transfers he sent her, even the deed to a mansion. The earliest dates traced back to the time I lost our first baby, when the doctors told me it would be difficult for me to conceive again. All these years, I had been enduring IVF treatments, desperately trying to carry our child once more—while he was fooling around with his so-called step sister. Well, if Caleb wanted another woman so badly, he could have her. I had no intention of staying anyway. I was already planning my leave.

When I got up from Ted Wiley's bed, he lazily handed me my underwear. "I'm changing the door code, so don't come by unless it's urgent." I froze, blurting out, "Why?" He grinned. "She said yes to being my girlfriend yesterday. I can't have her spotting you here—she'd flip. It took me forever to win her over."

From dating to marriage, seven years together, Kevin Fletcher bailed on fifty-two trips with me. Every single time, he had an excuse. A project deadline. A last-minute business trip. An elderly relative who suddenly wasn't doing well. And every single time, he promised he'd make it up to me. I believed him. Fifty-two times. Until last month, when I found a travel planner tucked away in his study. Inside were fifty-two plane tickets to the same city. And fifty-two photos of him and his so-called childhood friend, Fiona Snow. Written on the first photo: [She said she wanted to see the ocean, so I cleared my schedule and took her.] On the thirty-third: [She got drunk and said her biggest regret was never starting a family with me.] The fifty-second photo was dated the same day he blew off our fifth wedding anniversary trip. On the back, he'd written: [She's pregnant. I'm going to be a dad!] I wiped my tears away, opened my laptop, and drafted the divorce papers. Then I booked a ticket to Antarctica. This time, I was going to see the view alone.

My mating ceremony with Alpha Kaelan Blackwood was supposed to happen today. He'd gone to claim the Luna's Crown for me—the final ritual before we would be bound forever. Instead, he walked into an ambush. He survived. Barely. But his wolf didn't survive. Whatever had come back from that attack wore Kaelan's face but doesn't know me. Doesn't recognize his fated mate. Instead, he looks at Seraphina like she's the one who matters. Dr. Theron Vance, our Pack Healer, gave me hope anyway. The pup I was carrying is Pureblood—a miracle, even between two Pureblood wolves. He said it might be enough to wake whatever wasleeping inside Kaelan. I was going to tell him tonight. Then I heard him talking to his Beta, Beckett. "You're really going through with this? Pretending your Wolf is gone just so a dying woman can play mother before she—" "Drop it. Elara's the only one I've ever loved." Kaelan's voice came low, steady. "This thing with Sera is just medical. A procedure. It means nothing. When it's over, Elara and I complete the mating ceremony. End of story." I didn't storm in. Didn't scream. Didn't cry. I just turned around and walked away. I don't want an Alpha's love if I'm never going to be his priority.

Sebastian Sterling was the CEO of the Sterling Group, ranked third among the world's wealthiest business leaders. We had a five-year-long relationship, three years of which we lived together. He told me he loved me so much that he was willing to sacrifice himself for me, yet he never gave me the title of Mrs. Sterling. During those three years of living together, he betrayed me three times, pushing me into hell with his own hands. The first time, he secretly obtained a marriage certificate with his close friend's widow. However, he knelt before me, crying and begging me to believe that it was just for protection. The second time, under the spotlight of media cameras and thousands of watching eyes, he held her hand and announced that she was his wife and the lady of the Sterling family. Backstage, he gripped my hand and swore in a low voice that he would marry me once everything ended. The third time, he spent a passionate night with her and got her pregnant. I discovered the truth when I saw them at the hospital, attending a prenatal appointment together. Loving him was death by a thousand cuts. I forgave him again and again, yet he betrayed me every time. One day, I finally walked away. In my pocket was my positive pregnancy test—I was carrying the child he had always wanted. Only then did Sebastian collapse to his knees in regret, crying out my name with a broken voice. However, he had lost not just me, but the heir he never knew existed too!

Everyone in New York knew Damian Moretti loved his wife. He removed anyone who questioned my place beside him. After five failed rounds of IVF, I finally saw two lines on a pregnancy test. That same day, I learned my husband already had a one-year-old son. Yet Damian still held the test in trembling hands and looked at me with the wonder of a man becoming a father for the first time. He touched my still-flat stomach and said, “We waited six years for this child.” I almost laughed. We had not been waiting together. I had been enduring injections, procedures, and one failed treatment after another while Damian was secretly raising another woman’s child. He had given the boy the medallion passed down through generations of Moretti men, along with a private home, guards, and a family trust. Damian had not replaced me. He had simply built another family in secret and decided I never needed to know. So I stopped waiting. I boarded a plane that would soon disappear over the Atlantic. Damian believed he could keep his wife, his son, and every lie under his control. He was wrong. This time, he would lose the only weakness he had ever admitted to having.

During a gathering with friends, my husband, Kevin Graham, was asked a question by his buddy in Froise. "What are you going to do with your lover, who's two months pregnant with your baby?" Kevin smiled while helping me cut up my steak, and he replied in Froise, "Evie doesn't like children. I'll get Kandi Chutnam to give birth to the baby and send them overseas after that. At least I'll have a child of my own." Tears streamed down my cheek as I ate my steak, and Kevin asked nervously, "What's wrong, Evie?" I wiped away my tears and replied with a smile, "I must've used too much hot sauce." However, there was no hot sauce on the table. I was crying because I understood Froise.

At our son's piano competition, my husband, Richard Hayes, received yet another call from Vivian Morgan. I'd lost count of how many times he'd said the same thing to me. "Elena, Vivian says Mia keeps crying for her daddy and won't go to sleep. She wants me to come over and help. I need to go..." I cut him off before he could finish. "But you promised Leo you'd be onstage with him when he received his award." "I'm sorry. I promised Jay I'd look after Vivian and Mia. I can't break my word." He paused. "Leo has you. I'm sure he'll understand." Before I could say anything to stop him, Richard turned and disappeared into the crowd. I watched him go and smiled bitterly. Jay Morgan had been his closest partner on the job. Jay had died on a mission, saving Richard's life. And Vivian was Jay's wife. Ever since Jay died, Richard had been taking care of her and her daughter. Short on money? She called him. Daughter sick? She called him. Daughter crying for a daddy? She called him again. Richard took care of everything for them. And our home? It was just Leo and me. When the competition ended, Leo took first place. He scanned the audience, his eyes bright with anticipation. The moment he saw me walk onto the stage alone, the light in his eyes slowly faded. He gave me a sad, knowing smile no child his age should have to wear. "Mom, Dad left us again, didn't he?" I opened my mouth to comfort him. But he suddenly grabbed my hand and looked up at me. "Mom, you said we'd move somewhere Dad wouldn't be. Did you really mean it?"

When my wife, Sandra Lane, finally returns from her business trip, I pin her against the wall, my lust overwhelming my rationality. Halfway through our session, Sandra's phone starts ringing all of a sudden. She quickly pushes me off her body before grabbing her phone. "Sandie, I'm feeling a little uncomfortable. Can you check out what's wrong with me?" A racy video is soon sent to Sandra's private chat. Angered, I question Sandra, "Has William gone nuts? Why did he send you these videos? Is he going to keep badgering you just because he can't find himself a wife?" Sandra responds by slapping me instantly. "What the hell are you talking about, Steven? What's with that gutter mind of yours? I've just rescued William from another city! His parents are already dead, so I'm the only one left in his life! Naturally, I'm obligated to take good care of him! "You disgust me to no end, Steven! Hurry up and apologize to me right now, or else we're getting a divorce!" Sandra and I have been married for six years. During these years, she has used divorce as a threat against me multiple times. But when I'm with Sandra, I've already confessed 1001 times to her. Upon noticing my silence, Sandra just smiles smugly, thinking that there's no way I will ever leave her. But this time, she's wrong.

Caleb Finley tells me he wants to have a child with me during the year when our love is at its strongest. I agree, but that very same night, I fake my death and make my escape, becoming his first love who meets an early death. Six years later, the system seeks me out, on the verge of a breakdown. "Ms. Rockworth, Mr. Finley told me to let you know that your son has just entered the operating room. Do you want to visit him?" "I never gave birth to his child," I answer calmly. The system breaks down even more. "He lost his mind and suddenly turned evil on the night you faked your death. To maintain the balance of the world, we gave him a child who has both your genes. "Now that he has completely gone insane, he told me to tell you that you must meet with him today. If you don't, he'll remove your son's oxygen tube."

I've been in a five-year secret relationship with Shawn Lowell. For so long, everyone thinks we're rivals who hate each other's guts. At a bachelorette party hosted by a mutual friend, the bride-to-be orders every guy who is still single to wear eye masks. After that, every single woman has to walk one lap in front of them. This is so that the men can pick up on the women's perfumes. If they find a perfume they like the most, they can embrace the woman instantly and become a couple for the day. I walk very slowly in front of the men on purpose. In fact, I even stop in front of Shawn for half a second. But as soon as Shawn takes off his eye mask, he finds himself hugging Alyssa Sutton, his childhood sweetheart and first love. "Wow! You really are amazing, Mr. Lowell! You actually recognized Alyssa from all those fragrances and hugged her on the spot! Even God thinks you two are a match made in heaven!" Alyssa's eyes slightly redden, whereas Shawn looks down at her with a doting smile playing on his lips. Both of them refuse to let go of each other. As I stand a short distance away, I just smile at the scene. Last night, Shawn was still kissing the scar on my chest in bed while telling me that he wanted to marry me. How is it that he's forgotten his promise in just the blink of an eye?

After twenty years of knowing and loving my destined mate, Alpha Martin, we were finally about to get married. On the eve of the wedding, He skillfully picked out the lipstick shade I wanted from my makeup bag. That's when I knew: Alpha Martin had someone else. That girl was wearing the custom evening gown I'd prepared for the wedding banquet, clinking glasses with Alpha Martin in a mate's toast. Our friends surrounded her, respectfully calling her "Luna." I didn't cause a scene. Instead, I called the hospital. "Dr. Fabian, please dispose of the eggs I had frozen." Then I sent a message to that girl. "Yvonne Jimenez, would you like to marry Martin Daniels in my place?"

The day our daughter had a high fever, Matt was at a parent-teacher meeting for his first love’s son. I called him, only for her to pick up. Through sobs, she apologized, but Matt quickly grabbed the phone, his tone impatient. "She’s a single mom with a kid. What’s wrong with me looking out for them?" So, I turned to my daughter, who was quietly receiving her IV, and asked softly, "How about it, sweetheart? From now on, it’s just you and me."