Historias cortas de Tragic Love y novelas con CEO ambientadas en Face Slapping

Grandpa will be announcing his will at his birthday banquet. Apparently, I only possess the right to inherit the family's assets if I'm in a stable relationship with someone. I beg my girlfriend, Hannah Samson, countless times to have our relationship publicized. But she keeps using her overtime shift as an excuse. Today, she finally yields to me. "Alright. You should attend the family meeting first. I'll be there soon." The moment I step into the manor on my own, I hear my relatives' mocking laughter surrounding me. "You keep claiming that you're busy with your career every day. To think that you can't even bring your own girlfriend to this meeting! You do realize that your inheritance right depends on your partner, right? "Don't tell me you lied to us about having a girlfriend!" I clutch my phone tightly, feeling my palm going clammy with sweat. Time slowly ticks past. Just as Grandpa is about to read his will out loud, someone pushes the front door open abruptly. I turn around in delight, only for my smile to freeze on my face. Isaac Letterman, the fake heir, smiles wanly at everyone, his hand still laced with Hannah's. "Sorry, we're late." As I stare at the duo, I feel my heart plunging into an icy abyss. Then, I turn back to look at the relatives, who were mocking me earlier. "You said you wanted to see my girlfriend, right? That's her right there."

"Vera, you are accused of conspiring with the Petrov Group to assassinate the family's future Donna, Sylvia. This tribunal is now in session." In the center of the tribunal, a syringe filled with a dark green liquid glinted under the lights. My former fiancé, Rocco, the new Don of the Corleone family, sat on the dais, disgust plain on his face. "Confess. Let everyone see the monster you are behind that mask." Sylvia leaned against his chest, a faint smile on her lips. She thought I would finally break, my reputation in ruins. Shackled to the accused's chair, a smile of faint relief touched my lips. "Rocco, are you sure you want to do this?" "Use that needle, and there's no going back."

When I was twenty-five, I made an intern my lover. If she stayed with me, I would make sure she completed her internship and help pay off her parents' gambling debts. So that sweet, innocent girl was forced to stay by my side for three years. Later, my company collapsed, and my enemies broke both my legs. I watched her and her first love gaze at each other, with tears in their eyes. I left without a word, and she never came looking for me. Later, when I was selling snacks from a stall on a busy street, she had already become the CEO of a publicly traded company, openly flaunting her love for him. The way she looked at me was cold and indifferent. I laughed at myself. "Do I look like a joke to you?" Tears rolled down her face. "I've always thought you were one."

At the company's annual gala, my CEO girlfriend made a special exception for the new intern and let him draw from the prize box as many times as he wanted. The first time, he drew my $300,000 year-end bonus. He blinked at me and laughed. "Sorry, Evan. But you're such a good guy. You won't hold it against me, right?" The second time, he drew my vice president position. My girlfriend, Vanessa Sloane, did not hesitate. She ordered on the spot, "Clear out the vice president's office immediately. From now on, he can transfer over and work as Ryan's assistant." The third time, he drew a public three-minute French kiss with Vanessa. Amid the cheering, Vanessa blushed and kissed him with lingering enthusiasm. Only after she caught sight of my stiff expression did she pull away, still unsatisfied, and say impatiently, "Ryan won the prize. This is a company benefit. You're a grown man. Don't be so petty." I let out a cold laugh, lowered my head, and texted the chairman at corporate headquarters. "Since when does our annual gala include a benefit where the CEO has to kiss someone?" "Dad."

After five years of washing dishes overseas, I finally paid off every debt my husband owed and brought my child home, ready to surprise him. But when we reached the rental apartment, it was dusty and locked. A passing neighbor looked stunned. "Didn't you and Mr. Guilfoyle break up? Why are you back?" I went straight to my husband's office, only to be stopped by the receptionist. "Looking for Mr. Guilfoyle? He isn't at the office today. He's at his baby's one-month celebration." My phone lit up with a news alert. "Guilfoyle Group president Adrian Guilfoyle spends millions on lavish one-month celebration; couple appears deeply in love." At the same time, a voice message from Adrian came in. "Honey, I found a few baby clothes online for our son. They were only a few dollars. Remember to pick up the package." In the background, a woman laughed softly and teased him. "The bet's over. How much longer are you going to keep using that fake marriage license to fool Maya Liddell? Aren't you tired of pretending to be poor after all these years?" So I was the only one who had ever been truly poor. After going in circles for years, I had somehow become the real other woman.

I had just finalized a three-million-dollar merger deal when I heard my wife, Connie Anderson, instruct the assistant, Greg Smith, outside of my office. “Change the person in charge of this merger to Pete during the announcement ceremony tomorrow.” My hand paused on the doorknob as I leaned against the door. Greg sounded a little hesitant as he said, “But Dave’s been working on this project for the last six months. Our client has also been working exclusively with him…” Connie did not even hesitate a little when she said righteously, “Pete has just graduated. He needs the network to solidify his status. Dave’s already part of the management team. Why would he need more accolades? “After this deal is signed off, I’ll buy him his favorite sports car to make it up to him.” During the announcement the next day, Connie held my hand and said, “The admin has made a mistake in the paperwork. I’ll make it up to you later.” I pulled my hand back and remained quiet for the rest of the ceremony. We had been married for seven years, but she had taken everything I had built through years of hard work and used it to elevate another man. I neither wanted a sports car nor did I want to be a part of the senior management team.

On the eve of our ninth wedding, my fiance, Jasper Preston, develops a split personality after saving me in a car accident. One personality loves me down to his very bones. The other, however, is hopelessly in love with his junior, Wendy Upton. While I'm in a half-dreaming stupor, I hear the doctor sigh. "Mr. Preston's two personalities possess immense self-awareness. I'm afraid it'll be very difficult for them to merge. If Ms. Birch insists on marrying him, she must be willing to share her husband with another woman." Sighs ripple through the room, but I remain exceptionally resolute. After all, he had risked his life to save me in that accident. How could I possibly give up on the man I love so easily? However, the very next second, I hear another voice. "Jasper, you really outdid yourself this time. I can't believe you actually made up a split personality. Still, knowing Stella's temper, won't she drag you down to hell with her once she finds out the truth?" Jasper scoffs, "She loves me so much that she'd give her life for me; she'd never hurt me. I have to teach her a lesson because she fired Wen." My heart feels as though a blade has pierced straight through it. So, the disasters plaguing our weddings aren't coincidences. Everything—every single obstacle—has just been his twisted way of punishing me. Since he's willing to go this far for Wendy, I no longer want this forced marriage. Consequently, when I come to, and Jasper puts on his split-personality act, I simply look at his sworn rival, Mason Winslow, who is standing beside him. "Honey, who is he?" I ask calmly.

When I'm dragged onto the auction stage, my ex-boyfriend, Clifford Mitchell, is sitting among the audience. He has his arm around Selene Graham, the woman who framed my father and sent him to prison back then. He leisurely raises his paddle. "A hundred million dollars. I want her to strip naked in public and play that video from back then." The compromising photos he coaxed me into taking when I was 18 instantly appear on the massive screen, and the whole venue bursts into laughter. I bite down hard on my lip and, with trembling hands, slowly undo my buttons to cover the cost of my son Brooke Sullivan's surgery tomorrow. Just then, Brooke bursts in. His head's covered in blood as he throws his arms around Clifford's leg. "You big bully! Don't hurt my mommy! You can have my kidney, so please save my mommy!" Staring at the face that is practically identical to his own, Clifford loses his composure for the very first time. "Kyra, this child—" I slap him hard across the face, a bitter smile on my lips. "Don't you think I'm filthy, Mr. Mitchell? He's just a bastard child. I wouldn't want to sully your precious eyes."

Right before the wedding, my fiancé asked to postpone it by seven days. All because he wanted to spend time with his childhood sweetheart, who was terminally ill. "This week I am completely free. I want to be with Lily and help her fulfill her last wish." I asked, somewhat taken aback: "Tomorrow is our wedding. Are you trying to humiliate me?" Alexander's eyes darted away, but his tone was firm. "Lily has only a month left to live. I owe her a love story worth remembering." I didn't agree, but Alexander left anyway. The wedding was postponed at the last minute. [Joanna, we won't cross the line. I will give you a grand wedding.] Every day after that, Alexander sent me updates on his itinerary. On the first day, they took my wedding photographer and went to shoot their own wedding photos. On the second day, he gave the custom wedding jewelry to Lily. But by the third day, Lily sent over a video. Alexander was drunk, and they were pressed close together. Lily stared into the camera, her eyes full of defiance. "So what if he finds out I was faking my illness? He still chose me over you — just to fulfill my wish." I laughed. The only reason he succeeded was because of my unique business acumen and instincts. And now, sixty percent of the company's shares are registered under my name. Once he loses me, everything he has will turn to dust.

My fiance, Adrian Hale, and I had planned to go snorkeling on Valentine's Day. The day we landed in the south of France, I discovered that his first love, Vivian Clarke, had come with us. They insisted on heading into unpatrolled waters. "But those waters are dangerous, shrouded in strange rumors..." Adrian frowned at me. "Sophie, do you have to ruin the mood right now?" Vivian smiled and hooked her arm through his. "With you here, nothing is going to happen to us." Once we were in the water, Vivian recklessly swam toward the deeper channel. A swell shoved half her body into a narrow opening. I swam over to pull her free, but she thrashed and drove her heel hard into my knee. Her elbow knocked my mask crooked. Before I could straighten it, Vivian kicked me into the opening. Adrian came up behind us, grabbed Vivian, and held her hand tight. The voices over my underwater headset were muffled, but I still heard Adrian's cold warning clearly. "Vivi doesn't know these waters. You do, don't you? "You led her into deeper water on purpose. Who exactly were you trying to hurt? "Figure your own way out. Consider it the lesson you've earned!" Briny seawater flooded my throat. My aching legs kicked uselessly. My body was wedged fast in the opening. I closed my eyes in despair. My last thought was this: if I died, they deserved to pay with their lives.

My fiancé, Orlando, was a mafia captain. Three years ago, he got caught in a shootout, and someone tried to kill him. I took the bullet for him without thinking twice. The wound left me so weak that I spent most of my days stuck at home. Afraid I'd get hurt again, Orlando brought in a maid named Cecilia to look after me and act as my stand-in. Whatever was meant for me, she tried it first to make sure it was safe. Little by little, she got everything before I did. First to break in my heels. First to sleep in my wedding bed. Even the trip to Iceland I'd waited years for—she went with Orlando first, in my place. When the accident happened at the shopping center, Orlando still carried Cecilia into the emergency stairwell first. A falling stone column crushed my ankle. Lying in that hospital bed, I finally lost it. Orlando only frowned at me. "Nadia, stop making a scene. Cecilia is just your stand-in. She faces the danger first so you can stay safe." He sounded so sincere. He took my hand and pressed it to his lips. "Nadia, try to understand how hard this is for me. I can't let you get hurt again. I just can't." That devotion of his made me give in one more time. I never imagined that even at my own wedding—the day that mattered more to me than anything—Cecilia would wear my wedding dress before I did. I can make do with something secondhand. But I don't want a secondhand man.