Melodramatic Face Slapping Short Stories & Novels

At my wedding rehearsal dinner, a photo of me and my fiancé’s older brother—naked in bed—was displayed in front of everyone. I said it was a setup. Jason, my soon-to-be husband and the Don of the Vale, said, “I trust you.” He erased the footage—and married me anyway. For two years, he kept me hidden while my stepsister, Nerissa, stood beside him in public. He said it was to protect me—so I believed him. I believed him even when the rumors said he was sleeping with her, even when he introduced her as his Donna… until today, when I found them in bed together. Jason didn’t even stop kissing her when he saw me. “Do you like this anniversary gift, Alina?” That was when I finally understood— Jason had never believed me—and the reason he still married me wasn’t love. It was punishment.

Valentine's Day falls on the same day my boyfriend's company goes public. I spend one million dollars reserving an entire hotel, certain that Michael Cosby is finally going to propose. After all, he promised to marry me once he made something of himself. I wait for ages, only to receive a curt message saying he has something to take care of. Feeling crushed, I go on Instagram and unexpectedly come across a post from my best friend, Winona Ashe. "Back in Mr. Cosby's hometown for the wedding. Congratulations, Lylia! After everything you've been through, you're finally getting your happy ending!" The photos show a small-town wedding, with Michael as the groom and his secretary, Lylia Sutton, as the bride. Unable to believe what I'm seeing, I leave a single question mark in the comments, and that exposes everyone else who has been betraying me behind my back. Linda Cruz, the manager who personally got hired at the company, is the first to comment. "Holy shit, Winona. Did you forget to hide this from the golden goose?" The receptionist, who constantly fawned over me as the future Mrs. Cosby, joins in, "Great. Now the spoiled princess is going to throw another fit." Even an intern I've sponsored chimes in, "What if she gets petty and pulls her investment? Wouldn't we be screwed?" Finally, Peter Crane, the deputy CEO I personally mentored, reassures everyone. "Relax. Ms. Jenner only gave us the seed money. The company's already public, so even if she cashes out, it won't make any difference." How ironic. I spent six years helping Michael build himself up from nothing, only for him to betray me, and every person at the company I bankrolled all the way to its IPO betrays me right along with him.

After three years of pursuing Vicky Donovan, she finally accepts my confession and agrees to be my girlfriend. Just as I'm happily envisioning our future together, I suddenly receive an anonymous video on my phone. The video shows a roadside beggar with disheveled hair, sitting by a dumpster and clutching a phone in his hand. He looks very emotionally distraught. "Don't believe Vicky at all! She only agreed to be your girlfriend because she found out you're secretly a millionaire! "She will insist on a whirlwind marriage with you and steal all of your money before making a run for it, spending the rest of her days with her lover and leaving you with a mountain of debt!" Then the beggar finally lifts his hair from his face, exposing his face to me—it's completely identical to mine. "You'll end up like me if you don't take my advice!" After the video ends, it takes me a long time to come to my senses. But just as I'm about to replay the video to see if it's all just a scam, I realize it's gone. While I'm still in a daze, Vicky steps out of the bathroom and wraps her arms around my waist, cooing, "Let's get married, Colin Atkinson."

To help Sean pay off his high-interest loans, I sold my house. He hugged me tightly, crying, and promised to marry me on next year's Valentine's Day. It happened to be Valentine's Day when I paid off the last of his debt. However, what I saw shattered me—he was in bed with another woman. He arrogantly mocked me: "What are you staring at? You're not much different from her, are you? Go buy some rubbers for us." That's when it hit me—he had lied to me. Later, I agreed to marry the man my parents had chosen for me before they passed away. On the wedding day, Sean and his friends came to mock me: "Ella, do you think that I'll marry you if you just wear a wedding dress and follow me around? You're so shameless!" However, everything changed when the priest announced the exchange of rings. At that moment, as Sean's uncle knelt and placed the ring on my finger, I saw a flash of fear in Sean's eyes.

“Lenny, I’m not telling you to hand over your engagement to Ava for nothing. I will make it up to you…” The familiar voice echoed in her ears, and the pain made Lena snap her eyes open. In a daze, she realized with a jolt that she had been sent back in time to exactly one month before her wedding to Henry. Her father, Chase Johnson’s earnest, pleading expression was identical to the one in her memories when he had forced her to give up her engagement. “Fine,” Lena said, her voice slightly hoarse as she abruptly cut him off. Chase could not hide the joy on his face. “Lenny, you’ve finally come to your senses!” A cold, detached look flickered in Lena’s eyes, and her lips curled into a faint, mocking smile. “I want one billion dollars–” “One billion? Have you lost your mind?” Before she could even finish her sentence, her father's face turned a deep, angry purple, the veins on his temples bulging out. Lena casually tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, taking her time to finish the rest of her sentence. “Plus, a legally binding document cutting all ties with you. We will no longer be father and daughter.”

When I receive a summons in the divorce proceedings from my wife, Cora Moore, for the seventh time, I'm having cheese fondue at a restaurant with our daughter, Giselle Moore. The summons appears in front of both of us at the exact same moment. I force a smile and reassure her. "Sweetheart, just hang in there a little longer. This time, I'll definitely win custody of you!" Giselle falls silent for a moment before asking, "Daddy, how much are you planning to sell me for before you'll finally be happy?" I'm taken aback. Before I can say a word, she pulls out a divorce agreement from her backpack and hands it to me. "I know you've been fighting Mommy for me just to extort more money from her. I wrote this agreement on Mommy's behalf. Can you please sign it? "Mommy has it so hard. I wish you'd stop making things difficult for her." The agreement is handwritten by her. It allocates one million dollars to me in the division of assets. At the bottom, a note is added in her childish handwriting. "After accepting the money, you're not allowed to disturb Mommy, Cal, and me from living happily ever after!" Callum Scott is the man Cora has been cheating on me with for the last five years. All of a sudden, I'm filled with the overwhelming urge to laugh. For five long years, I've held my ground against pressure from all sides, refusing to sign the divorce agreement because I want custody of Giselle. To that end, I'm even willing to leave with nothing to my name. However, the daughter I've raised for eight years has come here to help her mother divorce me.

I was working overtime at the mall on New Year's Eve, only to witness my boyfriend proposing to the broke student, whose scholarship was funded by my family, on the biggest screen in the place. I was about to step forward and confront him when she, with tears in her eyes, accepted the proposal. "Being confessed to in my family’s own estate… is so romantic and meaningful. Thank you for loving me so wholeheartedly for five years." As soon as those words left her mouth, the two embraced, sharing a deep kiss amidst the cheering crowd. They even won the "Best Couple" award for the night. I didn’t cry or make a scene. Instead, I volunteered to present them with their prize. I couldn’t wait to see what fate had in store for two pieces of trash standing together.

We have weird rules set in place in this home. 1. Ethan's opinion is the one that matters the most in all events. 2. If Matthew has any objections, please refer to the first rule. Ethan Moreno is the real heir who has been reunited with the family. I am Matthew Moreno, the fake heir. My adoptive parents claim that they've set up these rules because they are worried that Ethan might not feel at ease when he's home. That's why when Ethan asks to move into my room, I let him have it. When he demands that I give him my scholarship, I give it to him obediently. When he tells me he wants to marry my fiancee, Holly Nottings, I agree to it. Even when Ethan plans on using our family's account to donate ten million dollars to a university in exchange for an exchange student slot, I agree to let him have his way as well. After all, when I refused to give Ethan what he wanted in my previous life, he threatened to commit suicide after he got his sorry ass dumped by Holly. When my adoptive parents found out about it, they strung me up and had me whipped for three days and nights. By the time I was released, I was already reduced to a shriveled-up corpse. When I open my eyes once again, I hear my adoptive father claiming that he'll wire ten million dollars from the family account to Ethan.

The girl my family sponsored was a manipulative opportunist. She had my childhood friends wrapped around her finger. I helped her out of pity for her poor background, but she climbed her way up, slowly taking my place. She faked innocence in front of the brothers while sabotaging me behind my back. When they found out, they called me petty rather than blame her. I got fed up, married my college crush, and moved on. But they flew in overnight, begging for forgiveness.

When I was 19, I had two suitors pursuing me. At that time, all my coworkers told me to pick the handsome and wealthy one. However, I didn't even spare him a glance. Instead, I chose the loan shark's debt collector, who also happened to be a man with a criminal record and violent tendencies. During the three years of marriage, the beatings had cost me three miscarriages and eventually put me in the ICU. My whole body was littered with ugly scars. My coworkers told me to run. They told me to call the police, but I refused every single time and stayed devoted to taking care of my abusive husband. They called me stupid and pathetic, but none of them knew that he was my only salvation!

At my bachelor party the night before my wedding, my wedding ring starts talking to me. "In a few minutes, your childhood friend Christopher will hand you a hangover pill. Once you take it, you'll fall into a deep sleep and be taken into a private lounge. "He'll unlock your phone, take out a multi-million-dollar loan in your name, then hire escorts to stage a scandal that ruins your reputation." It goes on, "On your wedding day, your alleged sex scandal and crushing debt will be exposed. Your fiancee, Annabelle, will call off the wedding. "Your father, who rushes in from out of town, will die of a heart attack. Unable to bear the shock, your mother will jump to her death. "Debt collectors will hunt you down, and you'll contract a sexually transmitted disease. In the end, you'll die alone in a dumpster." That night's party was Christopher Larson's idea, and everyone here is a close friend or family member. I figure I'm just drunk and hearing things. But a second later, Christopher hands me a pink pill. "Take this hangover pill, Marvin. Big day tomorrow. You can't afford to mess it up," he says. He looks genuinely concerned, but my wedding ring suddenly heats up. "Don't trust him! Leave now, or you'll be completely ruined!" I sober up almost instantly and reach out to Christopher. "My phone's dead. May I borrow yours to make a call?" If he had already set a trap for me, there was no way he'd let me walk away. Then, I call my fiancee, Annabelle Sterling. She answers immediately, and her voice is tight with worry. "Chris?" Hearing her say his name like that makes my heart sink. "The wedding's tomorrow. Make sure you take good care of Marvin," says Annabelle. I let out a breath of relief, guilt creeping in. But my ring keeps getting hotter. A beat later, it says, "Annabelle is more than a month pregnant." I freeze in place as a chill runs down my spine.

On my father-in-law Charlie Moore's sixtieth birthday, I rented out the VIP box at the Titan Boxing Gym so he could watch his favorite event with me, the championship title fight. The match was in full swing when the door to our box was kicked open. A man dripping in name brands stormed in with a pack of bodyguards, jabbing a finger in Charlie's face and cursing him out. "Where'd this old relic come from, thinking he can squat in my private box?" "I rented this fight tonight for my own entertainment. Get out, now." I kept my expression flat and my voice cold. "I paid in full for this box weeks ago, and the venue confirmed it. What gives you the right to throw us out?" The man sneered, looking at me like I was something scraped off the bottom of his shoe. "Paid in full? The entire Titan Boxing Gym was an engagement gift from my woman! This is my territory. I make the rules here. "People like you, reeking of poverty, ought to be grateful. If you dirty my leather couch, selling the both of you wouldn't even cover the cost." Charlie shook with rage. I just smiled. Since when had a gym I'd handed off to my wife, Cassidy Moore, to run under her name, become someone else's engagement-gift plaything?

During college, Cindy Crammer brought over two sets of breakfasts every day. One was for me, and the other was for my roommate and best friend, Mark Jefferson. The breakfast she brought me never changed. It was always just sandwiches and oatmeal. Mark's breakfast, on the other hand, always had a perfect balance of meat and vegetables, and she never repeated the same meal twice. Even for my birthday, the gifts she prepared came in two sets. My birthday gift was always four simple greeting cards. Mark got concert tickets, a handmade rhinestone photo mosaic, a custom-made suit, and a pinky ring. When it came time for our graduation trip, the three of us arrived at the train station together. Mark and Cindy scanned their documents and passed through without any trouble, but I was stopped outside. Cindy slapped her forehead in frustration and smiled at me apologetically. "I only remembered to book Mark's ticket. I forgot yours. "We've already made it through. I don't want to waste the money. I'll take you on a trip for two next time." Mark patted his chest and made a promise to me. "Don't worry, Jason. I'll take good care of Cindy for you." I watched their backs as they walked away side by side, laughing and chatting. I let out a bitter chuckle. I didn't want to keep lying to myself anymore. I turned around and bought a ticket home. "Dad, you said I had to get married right after graduation. I agree! "Remember the referral I made for an intern named Cindy? Cancel it!"

I had been in a relationship with Celine Jodie for seven years, but she married her first love, Dylan Graham, a month before our wedding. One afternoon, I was checking the guest list when a screenshot popped up in the wedding planning group. The screenshot was of another group chat called 'Our Promise at 18'. There was a photo of Celine and Dylan standing at the entrance of the local county clerk's office, holding their marriage certificate, and below were people who responded with texts. Her brother, Jordan Jodie, said: [Did you manage to keep it a secret from Gabriel? Don't let him delay the wedding over this matter.] My best friend, Isaac Tatum, replied: [Don't worry, he's still waiting for Celine to come back to try on her wedding dress.] Celine's best friend, Hailey Krate, wrote: [They just want to give their youth a proper ending. It's only a temporary marriage certificate. It's not like we're actually changing the groom.] Celine said: [Let's keep this from Gabriel for now. I'll explain to him after the wedding.] I held my phone, my fingertips cold. Two seconds later, the screenshot was unsent. The wedding planning group was silent for a moment. Then, Jordan casually asked how many boxes of candy I wanted to order, and Isaac urged me to try on my suit tomorrow. I stared at the screen and answered: [No need to order candy for doorgifts anymore. The groom won't be attending.]

My husband, Ryan Costa, is one of the most renowned scientists in the apocalypse. To retrieve a reagent, he goes deep into the high-risk zone with his secretary, Clara Gibson. I, Alice Ashford, lead an elite squad to protect him all the way. But when a zombie horde besieges us, he refuses to retreat. "With the reagent Clara brings back, I can develop a serum that saves all of humanity! Just ten more minutes! Ten minutes, please!" Ryan insists. I feel torn as I see the zombies closing in. I can't gamble with the lives of my squad on a vague, uncertain sliver of hope. In that split second, I knock Ryan out and drag him onto the helicopter. As a result, Clara dies being torn apart by the zombies. When Ryan wakes up, the first thing he does is slap me hard across the face. He rages, "How can you be so selfish? You've doomed all of humanity!" I am sentenced to be burned at the stake. I die in unbearable pain as the crowd curses me relentlessly. When I open my eyes again, I am back at the moment when Ryan stands in front of the helicopter, blocking our retreat. I am just about to speak when I suddenly hear his inner voice, "Clara should have grabbed her makeup bag by now. Hopefully, she brings something back with her. Otherwise, I'll have a hard time explaining myself to Alice." My mind goes blank, and I stare at him in shock. He smiles at me just like he did in my previous life and asks, "Darling, don't you think we should wait?"

I was engaged to Silas, Don of the Vance Famiglia, yet in the annual family portrait, I was shoved into the back corner. Standing right beside him was Camilla, his most trusted Capo. He sighed impatiently. "We have plenty of photos together, Scarlett. Missing one won't kill you. You're the future Donna. Stop being so petty." I swallowed my pride and gave up my spot. But my compromise bought me nothing. The necklace meant for me ended up around Camilla's neck. His plus-one to galas became Camilla. His excuse was always the same: "She's a vital part of the syndicate. You shouldn't compete with her." So, I gave him exactly what he wanted. I stopped being petty. I shredded the wedding planner I had poured my heart into, trashed our photos, and left New York for good. And suddenly, the cold, calculating Don was tearing the city apart looking for me.

My ex, Luca Romano, had a rival family on his tail, so he begged me to hide him at my family's private estate for five days. For old times' sake, I agreed and gave him a temporary passcode that would work for five days. Five days later, I finished my work out of town and returned to the estate. When I entered the passcode, the door wouldn't open. Someone had changed it. I rang the doorbell. A woman I had never seen before came out wearing my nightgown. She yawned as if she owned the place. The moment she saw me, she looked at me with disgust. "So you're the ex-girlfriend who won't leave Luca alone? "You two already broke up, and now you're showing up at his place in the middle of the night? Don't you have any shame?"

During a family gathering, my mother produces a few photos of different men. She asks me which one I want to get into an arranged marriage with. I don't choose Bradley Garvin again in this lifetime. Instead, I pull out a photo of my own and give it to my mother. It's of Terrence Garvin, the Garvin family's true leader. My mother is surprised. I've pursued Bradley for many years, after all. What she doesn't know is that I married him in my past life. However, he rarely came home. I always thought it was because he was too busy. Whenever anyone asked me about it, I took all the blame. I only discovered the truth on our 20th wedding anniversary after accidentally breaking a box he kept locked in his closet. It turned out my sister was the one he'd always loved. He never returned home because he didn't want to see me. Unexpectedly, Bradley loses his mind when I'm about to put a diamond ring on Terrence's finger on our wedding day.

Lena Fields was my best friend. When I found out her boyfriend had cheated on her, my mate and I rushed straight over to back her up. Lena and I clawed at that homewrecker’s face while my mate, Garrett Blackwood, held the cheating jerk down. On the way back to the pack, the three of us looked one another over. We were covered in claw marks, and we burst out laughing. Lena laughed until she started crying. “You two had better never break your mate bond. Otherwise, who am I supposed to tag along with?” Garrett rolled his eyes at her. “We’re fated mates chosen by the Moon Goddess. Only death can separate us.” After that, I helped Lena settle in the Windwolf pack. I stayed by her side through the pain of breaking her mate bond and encouraged her to start a new life. I was so busy helping her that I even neglected my mate. Every time Garrett got jealous, he’d pull me into his arms and complain, “Elise, do you even remember that I’m your mate?” Then Alpha Rowan Blackwood sent Garrett to the border for three months. When he came back, we couldn’t wait to throw our arms around each other. The moment I sank into his arms, I felt a sharp sting where he’d marked me. I also caught another werewolf’s scent on him. I shoved Garrett away, furious. “You cheated on me! I’m breaking our mate bond!” Then I grabbed Lena, who was standing behind Garrett. “Come on, Lena! You stayed in the Windwolf pack for me, so now you’re leaving with me!” But the second I said it, she shook me off. I turned around, stunned, and saw Lena step back to Garrett’s side, her eyes full of guilt.

I was the daughter of a human noble house, and I married the man I'd fallen for at first sight: Adrian, heir to the vampire Prince. Adrian was unfailingly gentle with me. Every wedding anniversary, jewelry arrived at my door. Everyone said I was the luckiest woman alive. What they didn't know was that on our wedding night, Adrian told me not to let myself hope for anything from him. The anniversary gifts were chosen by his assistant. He never once celebrated with me. In ten years of marriage, Adrian went through more lovers than I could count. Every time, I was the one who wrote the check and dismissed the women he'd grown tired of. This time, I cleaned up after him as usual. That night, he wrapped his arms around me from behind, buried his face in my shoulder, and murmured his praise. “Elena, I always knew you were the sensible one.” I gave a faint smile and slipped out of his arms. “I can do you one last favor.” “Let's get a divorce.” The gentle smile stayed on his lips. Only his eyes went cold for the space of a breath. “Don't be like this. I'll spend more time with you these next few days.” When I turned my face away, Adrian assumed I was slipping back into my old self. I would weep, demanding to know why he couldn't even try to love me. But he didn't know. This time was different. I was dying, and soon I'd be leaving him for good.