Devotion Secret Love 단편 소설 & 소설

I was arranged to marry the Mafia Don Silas Monroe. I thought our marriage would be cold and boring. Instead, after the wedding, he became impossible to resist—distant and unreadable by day, but heated and possessive by night. I thought that secret side of him belonged only to me. Until one night, while his mouth was on my skin, a man with my husband’s exact face stepped into the room. The man behind me only smiled against my shoulder. “Be quiet, Anna. You wouldn’t want Silas to find out you’re sleeping with his brother, would you?” That was when I realized the man in my bed was never my husband. It was his twin brother, Eric Monroe.

What a small world. As Elaine Johnson was checking in at the hotel front desk, she happened to bump into Jasper Carter's young mistress —a girl who looked like an innocent college student. She was dressed in a simple white cotton dress, pure and demure, with a shy, sweet smile. "Hello, here's your room key. You'll be staying in the executive suite on the top floor," the receptionist said. "Thank you, miss," the girl replied softly, taking the key. Just then, her phone rang. Elaine overheard her speaking bashfully to the person on the other end: "Mr. Carter, I... I'm already here. When will you be coming?" Her tone was soft, a little nervous, filled with affectionate anticipation. A moment later, Elaine heard her add, "Mhm, I'll wait for you. No rush. Please drive carefully, Mr. Carter." The girl's voice was so sweet and tender, it could have melted anyone's heart. Elaine could not help thinking that her husband had good taste — the girl was young and beautiful, gentle and thoughtful, the kind of woman any man would find hard to resist.

I was a two-hundred-pound girl. But on the night of graduation, I slept with Nova, captain of the Ashbury Ravens hockey team. The next morning, laughter drifted down the hotel hallway from his teammates. "Nova slipped his room key to Sienna last night, right?" "What, you think he'd give it to the Zamboni? That tub of lard. One look at her gives you nightmares for three days." "Did you guys see her reporter's notebook? It's covered in Nova's name. She's actually got a crush on Nova. Disgusting." So the room key that had slipped into my notebook wasn't meant for me. And the name he murmured against me in the dark wasn't mine either. My eyes burned with humiliation. I got dressed, walked out alone, and disappeared for six years. Six years later, my mother, Diane Quinn, was three months behind on her dialysis bills, and the sports website I worked for was on its last legs. My editor, Claire Bennett, slapped a file on my desk. "Nova. Newly crowned MVP. Not one interview in six years. Land him, or you're out."

We had been married for three years, yet my husband, Richard Thornton, who suffered from touch deprivation syndrome, still refused to consummate our marriage. Every time his condition flared up, he would only press his forehead tightly against the curve of my neck. I assumed he was saving himself for his first love, the woman who had left years ago. Then, I overheard him talking to his friends. "Stop teasing her next time. It makes her tense up every time." "Got it, Richard. But if you care about Valeria so much, why won't you touch her? It's been three years. Aren't you worried she'll leave you for someone else?" Richard shook his head. "You don't understand. The longer we're together, the harder it is to control myself around her. She's so delicate. I'm terrified I'll hurt her. As long as she's mine, I wouldn't care even if she slept with someone else first." His friends burst out laughing. "Richard, you're all talk. If you could really handle her being with another man, you wouldn't keep running to the hospital. You think we don't know what you're up to?" The next day, I found Richard's medical records. Visit after visit, he kept asking the same question, "How can I be gentler in bed? I don't want to hurt the woman I love."

After my succubus bloodline awakened, I made a habit of rating the CEO as "just okay" every single time he satisfied me. It was a guaranteed hit to his pride, right where it hurt. And like clockwork, he would grow colder, sharper, and even more determined to prove himself all over again. I glitched him into being obsessed with me for three straight years. That was, until my family finally arranged a so-called "perfect" bonding match for me. Just as I was getting ready to run, a flood of comments suddenly appeared in front of my eyes. [Eva, are you seriously doing this? If you run now, you'll be on the bed with him forever!] [Poor Arnold. He was in bed this morning, happily ordering toys and incubus outfits online, completely unaware his girlfriend was about to vanish!] [This is hilarious! She never realized he is an incubus and he never knew she is a succubus, either. They were both pretending to be human. I need to know what happens when he drags her back. I'm begging for the tail-around-the-waist scene!] [Run, Eva, run! I can't wait for Arnold to realize he got played and go completely unhinged. I can't even imagine how steamy the scene would be!]

My uncle’s rival, Emmett Meyer, saved me twice. The first time, I was drowning after a shipwreck—until he cut through the waves on a speedboat and dragged me ashore. The second time was after someone had slipped drugs into my drink. That night, I seduced him, a hardened man ten years my senior. In the dim glow of a private room, he guided my hand downward and growled, “I want you so bad, Babe.” He took me ruthlessly, ignoring my sobs and pleas. From then on, Emmett—the untamable “Prince of Silverbridge”—abandoned his reckless ways and devoted himself to me. Or so I believed. Then one day, he coaxed me into his Rolls-Royce and captured our tryst on camera. I flushed with embarrassment and secret delight. Later, as I hurried after him to return some documents he had left behind, I heard the sneers whispered in the hallway: “You’re so wild, Emmett. Everyone heard your girl moaning.” “Damn, the car rocked so hard I thought you’d break it.” “Hey, if Franklin Reed ever finds out that his precious niece has been your plaything for three years… think he’ll have a heart attack?”

Stephen's beloved Phoebe fell into a coma. To everyone, I became the villain—accused of harming her out of unrequited love for Stephen. Mute, I had no way to defend myself before Stephen locked me away in the basement. He said I would only be freed when Phoebe woke up. Broken and hopeless, I succumbed to fear and starvation, eventually developing amnesia. Day by day, my memories began to slip away. Yet, Stephen, tears in his eyes, begged me not to forget him. But all I wanted was to leave it all behind and keep moving forward.

My husband is poor. We've already been married for three years, but I've covered all our expenses during that time. Even when I'm interested in a cheap bag when we go shopping, he says it's too expensive. He tells me not to buy it. Later, I discover that he gives his first love a four-million-dollar diamond necklace for her birthday. It turns out he's not broke and heavily in debt—he's the heir to an affluent family with a net worth of billions of dollars.

Introduction My Alpha mate Ethan hated me for twelve years after his childhood sweetheart Ivy died. I tried everything to win him over but he would just sneer at me coldly. "I wish it had been you who died that day instead of her." When the rogue wolves attacked our territory, Ethan still threw himself in front of me. The silver blade meant for my heart pierced his chest instead. As his life slipped away, he stared at me with those piercing blue eyes, his voice barely a whisper. "If only... I had never met you." At the funeral, Ethan's parents—the former Alpha and his mate—wept uncontrollably. "I should have honored Ethan's choice to be with Ivy," his mother sobbed. "I never should have forced the mate bond between you and him!" The pack members surrounded me with accusing eyes and bitter words. "Alpha saved you three times! Three times!" one warrior snarled. "He was the best of us. Why couldn't it have been you who died?" Everyone regretted that Ethan had been bound to me as his mate. Even I regretted it. They drove me away from the funeral like a diseased animal. For three years, I howled my prayers to the Moon Goddess every night. Finally, the great Moon Goddess granted me something impossible—a second chance. I was back in the past. This time, I would cut every tie that bound Ethan and me together.

When Father asks me who I want to marry, I resolutely give up on Prince Maurice Swain. I choose to marry his uncle, Prince Gideon Swain. Father is confused. After all, everyone in the capital knows that I'm desperately in love with Maurice. I've said more than once that he's the only man I'll marry. I only have a bitter taste in my mouth. I married Maurice in my past life, and I gave my all in managing the household. Yet he never came home and even took a mistress behind my back. When I eventually became bedridden after wearing myself out, he brought Camilla Chapman back and threw her a grand wedding. The children they'd secretly had together came with her. It was only then that I realized the tonics Maurice had given me had rendered me infertile and weak. They slowly ate away at me from the inside. I watched as Maurice and Camilla lived a happy life with their children. I chose to let them have what they wanted. Now that I've been reborn, I'm going to stay away from Maurice and marry Gideon instead. Yet when Maurice finds out, he goes berserk. He stands before me with his eyes bloodshot as he forbids me from marrying Gideon.

Nathaniel Reid had always despised being bound by our engagement. To spite me, he recklessly raced cars and caused trouble, indulging in all sorts of reckless behavior. And every time, I cleaned up his mess. Then, a girl named Joanna Smith appeared in his life. On the night of my birthday banquet, he scoured the entire city for a simple breakfast wrap for her and never even bothered to show up. I had already prepared for this moment. That night, I approached my family and asked to change the engagement. "It didn’t have to be Nathaniel." I thought of the distant, composed man from my dreams—the one who had always hidden his quiet, unwavering love for me. A smile flickered across my lips as I said softly, "Didn’t he still have an uncle?"

For five years, I'd poured every resource my family had into making my fiancé, Julian Vane, a star. Now he was slipping the wedding gown of the century, the one supposedly made to my measurements, onto my best friend, Mia Shaw. The gown that had been digging into my ribs fit Mia perfectly. He looked at me with disgust. "Chloe, you don't deserve my designs." Meanwhile, my family was facing bankruptcy and liquidation. Julian was waiting for me to crawl back and beg him like a kicked dog. Instead, I knocked on the door of Killian Valentine, the most ruthless tyrant on Wall Street. He'd been my family's sworn enemy for ten years. "You hold the Winslow debt. Name your price. What do you want in exchange for leaving my family alone?" "I want you. Take off those dirty clothes and be my wife."

I am Charles Grant’s crush, and everyone said that he was really loyal to me. But on our third wedding anniversary, I found out that he had gotten a replacement for me. They even had a three-year-old child. I caressed my belly and tore apart the pregnancy report that I had brought to give him as a surprise.

On my wedding day, Ethan Westbrook's ex-girlfriend sent word that she was terminally ill. Her dying wish was to wear a wedding dress once in her life. Ethan locked me in the waiting room while he prepared to hold the ceremony with her instead of me to fulfill this wish. I heard his impatient voice through the door as he said to me, "Can't you show some compassion? She's dying. What's wrong with granting her one final wish?" Later, the guy next door who had carried a torch for me for years climbed to the rooftop and begged me to marry him. Ethan stared at me with bloodshot eyes. "Are you really going to throw away our seven-year relationship just for him?" I brushed his hand away. "Should I just let him die? It's only a marriage certificate. Where's your compassion now?"

My adopted brother, the powerful Mafia heir Knox, had one strict rule. He despised every woman who tried to climb into his bed. And I was the only woman by his side who hadn't been chased away. That was until a family dinner, when someone exposed the secret I had guarded for years in front of everyone. "Do you know that your most trusted, sweet little sister completely lusting after your body?!" The entire room went dead silent. I lowered my eyes, waiting for the inevitable abandonment. But the next second, Knox pulled me into his arms with a playful smirk. "So what if I know? We're soulmates." It turned out he had known about my secret crush all along, yet he just watched me make a fool of myself. I was too tired to play his game anymore. I turned around and accepted a marriage proposal from another man. But on the night of my engagement, that usually aloof heir kicked my bedroom door open, his eyes red with fury. Watching him completely lose his mind, I just stood to the side and let out a soft laugh. A master hunter never strikes first. She only needs to act like the prey.

"Hello, I want a divorce." In the third year of her marriage, Roxanne Levine decided to file for divorce. But she did so without telling her husband. Across the desk, the lawyer, Nathaniel Shepherd, responded in a formulaic tone after hearing her intent. "If you wish to proceed with a divorce, both parties need to sign the divorce agreement. After that, there will be a one-month cooling-off period before the divorce is finalized. Did your husband not come with you today?" Roxanne paused for a few seconds. "I'll make sure he signs it." "Very well. I'll draft a divorce agreement for you."

When I missed the passing grade by one point, my best friend dragged me to a bar. She said there was nothing a drink couldn't fix. I drank until I blacked out. When I woke up, a man lay beside me, all cool eyes and tightly leashed control. I left two hundred dollars on the nightstand and ran for my life. I thought I'd never see him again. Then, on the first day of the new semester, the class I'd failed had a new professor. I looked up at the podium. The man from that night stood at the lectern, opened the roster, and read my name in a cool, even voice. "Vivian Harper, come see me in my office tomorrow." The color drained from my face. Convinced he was here for payback, I stayed up all night writing a transfer application. The next day, I clutched my transfer application all the way to his office. Before I could work up the nerve to speak, he pulled out a sheet of paper and studied me with an unreadable expression. "I've read the assignment you turned in." "Care to explain why a positive pregnancy test was bound into your term paper?"

On the day Yara Cullen was released from prison, it was raining. A chilly wind carried the drizzle, striking her as the media swarmed the prison gates. "Ms. Cullen, in the Crestwood Estate sexual assault case, your client lost the lawsuit and took her own life six months ago. Her mother is demanding accountability. Do you have anything to say?” "Ms. Cullen, your attorney's license has been revoked, and your mentor was forced to retire. What are your thoughts on this?" No matter how the reporters pressed, Yara kept her head down and pushed forward, forcing her way through the crowd. A black G-Wagon was parked by the roadside, where Westley Langston leaned against the car, smoking a cigarette. Beside him, Elena Cullen tugged at his arm. He turned, glancing toward the prison gates.

My boss, Jared Princeton, sends me a contract and tells me that I can only clock out of work if I sign it. I only realize that the contract is The Devil's Contract, binding him and me together in a master-servant relationship, after I sign my initials on it. Just as I prepare to run, Jared appears right behind me and binds me with his Devil tail.

Everyone in the social circle of Kingsford said I was nothing more than a lapdog raised by Charles Mankin. I was always at his beck and call. I did every filthy, ludicrous thing for him under the sun. When he street raced, I rode shotgun. When he drank himself senseless, I made him hangover soup. When he chased girls, I prepared protection for them. Over time, everyone knew: Charles had a dog who never ran, never bit back, no matter how hard he kicked. They all said I must be madly in love with him. Even Charles started to believe it. So he pushed further, more freely, more cruelly, crossing lines as if they never existed. Then came my twenty-fifth birthday. He, in a rare stroke of mercy, said he'd celebrate it with me. But instead, what he got was the news that I was leaving the country. He went berserk, charging through the airport like a man possessed. I peeled his fingers off my wrist one by one, smiling like I'd never been happier. "Don't be stupid," I told him, still smiling. "That was never love." That night, Charles smashed apart his family home like a rabid dog.