Tragic Love Countdown 단편 소설 & 소설

When Cora Shepard's husband's first love, Kimberly Hayes, came back, her first move was to make Cora sign a wager. The terms were simple. If George Lambert abandoned Cora nine times for her, Cora would give up her place as Mrs. Lambert. Cora agreed.

I had been in a secret relationship with my mafia boyfriend, Dante Castellano, for seven years. No public contact. No photos together. No proof I had ever stood by his side. He told me, "Once I'm powerful enough that no one dares touch you, I'll make it official." I believed him. The day before our seventh anniversary, I found a ten-carat diamond ring in his suit jacket. I cried with joy, thinking seven years of hiding were finally over. The next morning, I wore my most expensive dress and sprayed on the only perfume he had ever given me. I practiced my smile in the mirror, the one I would give when he proposed. Then, my phone lit up with a breaking news alert. [Breaking News: Seven-Year Love Story Reaches Perfect Ending—Romance Blogger Alessia Romano Accepts Boyfriend's 100th Proposal!] In the photo, the influencer with eight million followers stood on her tiptoes, kissing a man. His hand rested on the back of her neck. On that hand was a scar I would never mistake. It was the scar Dante got when he took a knife for me.

Clara posted a photo of her ultrasound on Instagram. "Thanks to your bloodline, I finally have my own little pup." I stared at the ultrasound. Ryan's name was written clearly in the field for the father. I typed a single question mark in the comments. Ryan called me immediately, screaming his head off. "Celine, what the hell is wrong with you? Clara is dying from silver poisoning. This was her final wish! Can't you show some damn compassion?" "Kaleb was my brother. He's gone, and it's my duty to look after his mate! She just wanted a pup to keep her company in her final days. Do you really have to be this petty?" I gripped my phone until my knuckles turned white. Clara was Ryan's childhood sweetheart. They grew up together in the Dark Moon Pack before she married Ryan's best friend, Kaleb. Six months ago, Kaleb was killed by rogues during a border patrol, leaving Clara a widow. Shortly after, she was diagnosed with late-stage silver poisoning. She has at most a year left to live. But I never imagined Ryan's "care" would go this far. A little while later, Clara posted a new set of photos. She was in a luxury high-rise apartment downtown. The city skyline stretched out beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, and the kitchen was bathed in a warm glow. "So glad you're here to make me feel the warmth of a home again." In the photo, I saw a man's back as he busied himself in the kitchen wearing an apron. It was Ryan. The sight was so familiar it made my eyes sting. I rubbed my stomach, thinking about the pregnancy I'd confirmed just two weeks ago. I suddenly let out a sharp laugh. This mate bond? It's time to end it.

The biggest laughingstock at the city's most exclusive society gala is none other than Camille Ellery's boy toy, who completely loses his mind over his love for her. Ansel Wells is devastatingly handsome, with an air of innate nobility. Yet here he is, groveling on the floor in utter humiliation. "Ms. Ellery, being by your side and serving you for the past three years has been my greatest privilege. I'm willing to do anything for you. Just please, don't ever leave me." His slightly husky voice rings out across the entire ballroom. After a brief moment of stunned silence, Camille's girlfriends all burst into laughter, clearly envious. "As expected of Camille. Only you could turn a man this gorgeous into a shameless lapdog!" "But we've all seen how hopelessly devoted he's been to you these past three years. When are you finally going to make it official?" "If you don't want to give him an official title, why don't you lend him to me for a bit of fun?" Camille holds a glass of champagne, swirling it with lazy indifference as a soft laugh slips from her lips. "I'd be happy to lend him out, but you'd have to ask whether he's willing. As for making it official?" She scoffs. "Sure, he's gorgeous and all, but there's no soul behind those pretty eyes." As everyone showers her with compliments for her irresistible charm, her gaze cuts straight across the ballroom and locks onto Stellan Loxley, who's dressed as a waiter.

The private jet touched down in Solverno well past midnight. Behind me, an explosion rattled the terminal windows hard enough to make the glass shudder. Three days earlier, my husband, Damiano Salvato, had flown to Solverno to negotiate a deal. The city was now caught in crossfire, and his phone did not connect no matter how many times I tried. I dialed his Underboss, Enzo Conti, with shaking hands. The line rang for a long time before he picked up. His voice sounded strained. "Y-You're really in Solverno right now?" Another explosion hit, and the panic in my chest tightened another notch. "Where is Damiano? Which zone is he in?" The line went quiet for a moment before Enzo answered, almost reluctantly. "He never left Havenport." A second later, a photo flashed across my screen. Damiano was underwater with a woman, the two of them tangled together, laughing. I recognized her immediately. It was Valeria Caine. Three years ago, Damiano had stood before every Capo in the family and sworn he would never see that woman again. He had probably forgotten that today was our third wedding anniversary. "Signora Salvato, the truth is... they never stopped seeing each other. But the Don has treated you so well all these years that no one dared say a word." On the other end of the line, Enzo's voice trailed off into nothing. I looked down at the unsent message still sitting in the text box, the six words I had typed out for him. "I'm coming to bring you home." The cursor kept blinking. If that was how things stood, then there was no reason to keep waiting for him.

When I'm four months pregnant, I come home from a checkup to find my mate, Ethan Hale, standing on a ladder in the nursery, pressing glow-in-the-dark constellations onto the ceiling. His childhood friend, Mia Vance, sits below with her chin in her hands, directing his every move. "Ethan, Orion's crooked. Shift it right a little. Yes, like that, so my goddaughter can see it from her crib." "You're worse than the actual mom, you know that?" He laughs. They joke back and forth, and neither of them notices me in the doorway. A pack member wrapping up a furniture delivery catches Ethan on his way out. "Alpha, the Luna really cares about the pup. That star map looks perfect." Ethan glances at Mia, who ducks her head with a blush, and says nothing to correct him. I don't move. Every detail in this nursery is Mia's doing. She picks the snow-white paint on the walls and the carousel mobile over the crib. Even the baby's nickname is Amber—named after a rabbit Mia had for eight years before it recently died. I tell Ethan over and over that I don't like any of it. He always says the same thing, that it's just a casual nickname and not worth getting upset over. I open my phone and submit a mate bond dissolution request to the Elder Council because this is my pup, and I'm going to be the one who names her.

To stop my boyfriend from marrying me, his mother hired a group of thugs to kidnap me. They dragged me into the woods and tortured me for an entire day and night, leaving barely a patch of uninjured skin on my body. Eden York lost his mind after finding me. He went after every single person involved and ruined them without hesitation, even personally sending his own mother to prison. He never once cared about what had happened to me. If anything, he became even more determined to marry me, willing to turn his back on his entire family to make it happen. But the moment I woke up in the hospital again, a cold mechanical voice suddenly echoed in my head. [Host, your target’s affection level has reached 100%. Final marriage mission unlocked.] [Complete the mission to receive a sixty-million-dollar reward. You may also choose whether to leave this world.] [Warning: If the mission fails, you will be permanently erased from this world.] I was still trying to process the words when Eden’s voice suddenly rang out in my mind. [Perfect. After everything I did with my mother to set this up, I finally maxed out her affection points.] [Once the final mission is complete, I’ll dump her immediately and be with Tiffany instead.] Beside me, Eden instantly noticed how pale I had gone and reached out to touch my face. “Summer, what’s wrong? Are you feeling sick?” I slowly shook my head. “No. I’m just really looking forward to the wedding in seven days.”

Keane Mercer was the captain of the Boston Blades, one of the biggest teams in professional hockey. We'd been together for five years, and I hadn't missed a single one of his games. I could never get seats near the glass. Every game, I settled for the best spot I could find in a corner, lifting my camera to capture every moment he was on the ice. I asked him once. "Could you save me a seat in the friends-and-family section just once? The view is so much better from there." He didn't even look up. "I'm the captain. I can't play favorites. Maybe another time." He never said when "another time" would be. I never asked again. The friends-and-family seat remained empty season after season. Until the semifinals this year. For the first time, someone was sitting there. She was a young woman with a warm, bright smile, standing with the help of a crutch. Every time Keane scored, his eyes found hers. When the final buzzer sounded, he skated straight to the stands, lifted her effortlessly into his arms, and carried her out, shielding her as they disappeared into the crowd. I lowered my camera, packed away my gear, and walked out of the arena alone. Then I reopened the transfer offer I'd deleted and clicked "Accept". If I was never going to have a place in Keane's friends-and-family section, then I was done waiting on the sidelines. It was time to build a life that belonged to me.

An hour into my daughter's college-sendoff dinner, Marissa Langley still hadn't arrived. Every one of the hundred-plus calls we made was rejected. Every message she sent back was the same automatic reply: "On my way." My daughter stood up and sat back down five times, head lowered as she twisted the hem of her dress, not knowing how she was supposed to read the line in her speech that said, "Thank you to my parents." When I finally couldn't take it anymore and left the room— I saw Marissa in the banquet hall next door. She was standing shoulder to shoulder with her first love, Adrian Pierce. In front of them was Adrian Pierce's son, whose GPA fell more than a full point and a half short of my daughter's. "Thank you, Mom and Dad, for raising me!" The boy bowed to them. Marissa held Adrian's arm, smiled softly, and gave a gentle nod. Amid the thunderous applause, I stood there watching them for a long time. Suddenly, I felt more tired than I had ever felt in my life. So I turned around and went back to my daughter's table. "She isn't coming, sweetheart. Go onstage and say what you want to say." I reached out, patted my daughter's shoulder, and said softly, "And the thing you asked Dad about before— "I've thought it through. We'll do it your way."

On our third wedding anniversary, Lorenzo Falcone came back from Sicily with a chest of jewels. Without thinking, he slid the chest toward my sister Vella and told her to pick first. I stared, eyes wide, and the disappointment slipped out before I could stop it: "Lorenzo. It's our anniversary. Don't I get to choose first?" He faltered for just a second. Then he said: "Lily, as a Donna, you should know how to be gracious. You can't always act like a little girl." I'd heard that for over twenty years. Since I was a child, the eldest daughter of the family, I'd long learned to step aside. Give up the horse I loved. Give up my grandfather's keepsake. Give up the chance to study abroad. Give up the voice that should've been mine. My father told me to be sensible. My mother told me to protect my little sister. When I met Lorenzo, I really thought—foolishly—that I was done giving things up. He'd pull me behind him when the gunshots rang out. He'd hold my hand when the nightmares jolted me awake. He'd say it in front of everyone, so sure of himself: "Lily is my only choice." But I was wrong. Not long after we got married, Vella moved in with us. She said she couldn't bear to be apart from me. Lorenzo promised he would treat her like his own flesh and blood, give her a little extra care. But somewhere along the way, extra attention turned into her first—without him even noticing. After she'd made her picks, she handed me the leftover brooch. Old. Tarnished. "This one suits you, sis." I looked at her. Forced a bitter smile. "Take it all. I don't want any of it." Quietly, I slipped my wedding ring off my finger and tucked it into my bag. Three days from now, I'll place it beside the divorce papers on his pillow. And then I'll walk away. From him. From this city that was never mine to begin with.

I woke up, and I was 28 again. I had twin heirs, and my husband was Santino, Veridia's most feared Mafia Don. He sat at the head of the Commission of the Five Families. His sharp profile was a fixture on the cover of the underworld's most exclusive magazine for several consecutive issues. Even the oldest Valerian families were lining up to offer him their daughters. All the women in Altoria envied my good fortune. But the first thing I did after waking up was pick up the divorce papers, the ink still fresh, and handed them to his childhood sweetheart, Jessy. "My lawyer will handle the divorce. The properties and assets are yours. Santino is yours. The children are yours, too." Sitting across from me, Jessy couldn't believe it, her eyes wide with shock. "Are you crazy, Alessia? Is this some kind of trick?" "How could the woman who has been Donna for six years give it all up so easily?" I lowered my gaze, my tone calm. "Since they all prefer you, I figured it was time to step aside." "Just have Santino sign it and press his signet ring into the wax seal." "Once the divorce is final, I'll leave Veridia for good." This time, I would not make the same mistake. I would never again be a Donna in name only.

The night before the final application deadline at the werewolf academy, the senior channel exploded. [Rhett, why did you change your final choice to Northwood Alpha Academy?] [Weren't you supposed to attend Asterfall Academy outside the territory with Avery?] Rhett replied with casual indifference. [So I changed it. She has my login information. Once she sees what I did, she'll change hers too.] [That little shadow has never been able to stay away from me. Do you really think she'd leave me in Northwood alone?] I stared at my phone, my mind completely blank. Beside my open suitcase lay the graduation gift I had chosen especially for Rhett. He did not know I had already seen everything. If he could abandon the future we had planned for Blaire, then I could let go of him and choose a future that truly belonged to me. All those late-night training sessions and the countless territorial planning maps I had drawn had never been only about staying beside him.

After four miscarriages, I was finally pregnant again. To surprise my mate, Wyatt, I hid behind the curtains in his office. I never expected to see him tangled in a passionate embrace with my younger sister, Stella. They were kissing frantically, and Wyatt showed a fiery passion for her that he had never once shown me. What shattered my heart completely were Wyatt’s next words: "Since you're pregnant now, Harper is useless to me. I'll figure out a way to sever the mate bond with her." "She’s so incredibly clueless. She never even suspected that I caused those four miscarriages just to cure your infertility..." Hiding behind the curtain, I clamped my hand over my mouth to stifle my devastated sobs. My fated mate murdered my babies with his own hands, all for my sister. In that moment, a fire of pure vengeance ignited in my heart. I called Wyatt’s mortal enemy, Dominic, Alpha of the Sterling Pack: "Want to make Wyatt's life a living hell? Let's make a deal."

I had been secretly dating Carlo Mandelli, heir to the Mandelli Mafia family, for five years when he finally agreed to marry me. A month before our supposed wedding, I went to discuss the guest list with him, but I overheard him talking to his underboss. "Your wedding to Ginetta is in seven days. What about Alessia?" Carlo's underboss asked. Carlo answered without hesitation, "Ginetta and I grew up together. Our marriage is for the good of the Mandelli family, not for love. I can't make Alessia my wife, but I'll give her all my love. She'll understand. Once the alliance is secured, I'll give Alessia a wedding ceremony of her own." His underboss shrugged and continued, "Then you'd better explain things to Alessia clearly. She's already pregnant, and stress isn't good for her." Carlo smiled but said nothing. Standing outside the door, I stared at the guest list I had just finished writing. I struggled to take in what I had just heard. Carlo had once promised to make me the happiest, most beautiful bride. He'd spent the past month secretly planning the wedding venue. I thought he was preparing a surprise for me, but he had actually been planning his wedding to another woman! Carlo thought I would love him no matter what, but he was wrong. I wouldn't spend the rest of my life with a man who was married to someone else. I decided I would leave on his wedding day and end things for good.

Ruby Monroe's memory resets every three months, back to the day she hates me the most. She breaks my hand again and again to get revenge for her adopted son, Ricky Smith. She also loses her memories again and again after proposing to me beneath a sky full of fireflies. I live through our story over and over, waiting for the day she finally remembers everything. Until one day, I accidentally overhear her talking to her friends. "Ruby, how long are you going to keep this act up? Only a fool like Ricky would believe you really lost your memory. Every time, he gets down on his knees and begs us to play along with him, dreaming that he'll marry you. "In three days, you're going to fake losing your memory again, right? How many times has it been now?" "Nine times." Ruby's cold voice comes through the door. "His food gave Ricky food poisoning and ruined his coming-of-age ceremony. He should be punished!" She pats Ricky's head. "Nobody bullies Ricky!" My heart breaks when I hear her gentle yet cruel words. I never expect that all my years of waiting are just part of her revenge. I wipe away my tears and summon the system. "Cancel our previous deal. In three days, declare this mission a failure and erase all my memories of Ruby."

On the night of my twenty-first birthday, Silvercrest Pack held my coming-of-age mate selection ceremony. When the full moon rose above the forest, none of the four candidates had appeared. They were the four men who had grown up beside me—and the heirs to the four highest-ranking positions in the pack. I waited alone on the ceremonial dais until the ritual ended. Following a livestream, I found them at a private estate across the forest. The camera was pointed at the birthday cake in front of Mira. She was a she-wolf Silvercrest had recovered only three months ago. Missing since childhood, she had grown up among humans. When the patrol found her, wolfsbane still lingered in her blood. She was so weak she could barely shift. I had brought in the pack’s best healer and arranged for her to live on pack grounds. Yet now Everett, the future Alpha, was taking a glass of wine from her hand so she would not have to drink it. Nolan, the Beta heir, draped his coat around her shoulders. Julian, the Gamma heir, crouched to straighten the hem of her dress. And Rhys, the Delta heir, placed the Moon Crown I had personally chosen on her head. My phone rang a moment later. Everett’s low, controlled voice came through the speaker. “Elara, don’t come in here and make a scene in front of Mira. She almost cried a minute ago. We’re only trying to give her a proper birthday.” Nolan took the phone. “The mate selection can be rescheduled. Mira has only just returned to the pack. Emotional distress could interfere with her recovery.” Julian laughed softly in the background. “She never even had a real birthday before. You grew up with the entire Silvercrest Pack doting on you. Is it really so terrible to let her have this one night?” Outside the estate, two servers lowered their voices. “Not one of the future Luna’s candidates showed up for her coming-of-age ceremony.” “They’re all here celebrating with that newly recovered she-wolf. After tonight, Miss Elara will be a joke in every pack in the region.” Once, I would have pushed open the door. I would have demanded to know why it was always Mira—what, exactly, I lacked that made all four of them choose her over me. This time, I simply unpinned the silver moon crest that marked me as the Luna-in-waiting and dropped it into the sink. Then I sent a message to my grandmother, Silvercrest’s High Elder. [Grandmother, I won’t choose any of them.] [Contact Blackridge Pack.] [I accept Callum Thorne’s alliance proposal.]

Yvonne Carter went to the hospital to open a prenatal record. The staff member took one look at her marriage certificate and tossed it back across the counter. "Ma'am, did you seriously bring in a fake certificate just to waste our time?" Yvonne froze for a few seconds before irritation flared. "It has an embossed seal. How could it possibly be fake?" The staff member looked at her with open disdain. "The seal is so blurry it looks pixelated. And you said your husband is Cole Foster, but he already has a wife and a child." Yvonne stood rooted to the spot, her mind buzzing. The people waiting behind her began complaining impatiently. Seeing the commotion, a security guard immediately came over and pulled her away from the counter. She shook him off, furious, and pulled out her phone to call Cole. She tried more than a dozen times, but he didn't answer once. Then a dull, dragging ache suddenly tightened low in her abdomen. With no time to think about anything else, she hurried to the ER to get checked out. The doctor told her it was only a reaction to the emotional stress. Reassured, Yvonne finally left. But the moment she stepped out, she spotted Cole standing not far away. She was just about to call his name when she heard a nurse speaking up ahead. "The child's fine. Once this IV finishes, you can take him home." Yvonne froze in place, stunned.

After three years of pretending to be dead on livestreams, I finally earned enough money to treat my daughter. I was about to go home and tell my wife and daughter when I overheard a call between the platform administrator and my wife. The administrator said humbly, “Chairman Morgan, Mr. Wells’s livestreams have generated tens of millions in revenue over these years. “The company withheld ninety-five percent of it. Should we keep withholding more?” Stacy fell silent for a moment before answering, “No need. Three years of testing him is enough. He barely moves year-round. He even developed muscle atrophy and didn’t tell me.” John’s voice came through the phone next. He said, “Stacy, Sam can even pretend to be dead, so what if this is an act too? “Besides, Emma’s already used to Sam being gone, so she probably won’t accept having a dad again anytime soon.” After some hesitation, my wife said indifferently, “If that’s the case, then withhold it for another six months.” I smiled and tossed the diagnosis report confirming amyotrophic lateral sclerosis into the trash. There was no need for them to test me anymore. I no longer needed to pretend.

During the car accident, Ethan Jones used his body as a shield, protecting me so that I could walk away unscathed. However, when he finally woke up, his memory was frozen at eighteen years old, back when Millie Brown was his girlfriend. Ethan’s friends advised me to let go and fulfill their love story instead. They said that only by Millie’s side would Ethan—the model student everyone admired—step down from his pedestal and live a life. Apparently, I, the obedient, well-behaved girl, made his life dull and lifeless. What no one knew was that, amid the buzzing cicadas of summer, that well-behaved girl had fallen for him—year after year, never once wavering. So, I waited foolishly for Ethan to remember me until three years later, when I was diagnosed with cancer. On that very day, I finally saw the surprise he had mentioned preparing for me before the accident. Only then did I truly let go, and when he handed me the divorce papers once again, I signed my name.

Five years ago, I was his life and I thought we would be the end game until Rosalin, his new assistant, seeped into our life. It began with urgent late night meetings. Our dinner conversations, once filled with shared secrets and soft laughter, were replaced by the rhythmic tapping of his thumbs against his phone. He stopped looking at me across the table, his gaze permanently fixed on the glowing screen as he replied to her "emergency" texts. When I’d walk into his office, the air would turn brittle. He’d stop talking mid-sentence, Rosalin leaning over his shoulder with a look that wasn't professional. But the breaking point was when he left me waiting for six hours on our anniversary Gala to celebrate Rosaline’s birthday. “We got occupied with something, Victoria.” He said, “Rosaline has brought cake for you. It was her birthday as well.” Just then a notification came into my phone. It was Rosaline’s post. She had posted a picture minutes before entering the gala. She was sitting in a seven-star hotel, the one I asked Jayden to book for our Anniversary but he refused after saying it was full. She had been cutting her birthday cake surrounded by red candles’ flames and a pair of hands had cupped hers. Jayden’s hands. He had ghosted our Anniversary Gala to celebrate Rosaline’s birthday! That was when I realised, I had no future with this man. I will disappear from his world, taking his child with me.