Contos e Romances sobre Melodramatic com Forced Love

Ever since I married Seth Jerrell, he never lets me go without. If I mention wanting to see snow, he charters a private jet and flies me to Montreve. If I say I want to keep horses, he buys an entire ranch for me. For Seth, money has always been his way of showing love. Until the day I see him at the docks. He's shirtless, hauling heavy sacks from one cargo pile to another, dust covering his skin. He's crouched beside the stacks, eating a dry flatbread, when a young woman in an apron hurries over from the cafeteria and hands him a bowl of free soup. "Seth, once I've saved enough money, I'll buy you some new clothes. You don't have to keep wearing torn ones." He downs the soup in one go, then smiles. "Then I'll work harder tomorrow and buy you a pair of new shoes," he says, his eyes sparkling with delight. I stand in the shadow of a shipping container, barely keeping myself upright. I can't believe that Seth, the man who effortlessly charms his way through countless business dinners and once bought me an entire office building, is willing to pretend he's struggling just to impress a cafeteria worker. "When I get rich, I'll buy you whatever you want." Those are the exact words he told me when he confessed his feelings to me on a rooftop years ago. I don't confront him. I simply delete his number and block him on every social media platform.

Everyone in Eimport knew Ethan as a ruthless tycoon. Yet this same man humbly loved me. When his enemies kidnapped me for revenge, he charged bare-handed into an inferno so fierce even firefighters hesitated. I was unconscious but unscathed, while Ethan's right arm bore grotesque burns that would never fully heal. Unbothered, he even declared to the world that these scars were proof of our love. I was touched and browsed positions for couples online while he worked late. But everything shattered when I stumbled onto a video. The man's face was blurred, but the scar snaking up his wrist was unmistakable. The woman trapped in his gilded cage bore a striking resemblance to me. My heart hammered, torn between terror and devastation. That very night, I decided to leave and not ever see him again.

My fiancé was obsessively possessive. I was the newly found real daughter. To make sure I couldn’t leave him, he had thugs assault me in an alley. Then he showed up pretending to be my savior, taking the beating himself. I developed depression and had no choice but to rely on him. Then the fake daughter showed up with her gang. Grabbing my face, she sneered, "I'm the only daughter of the Shaw family!" I was dunked in a toilet, my face slashed, my body violated, and every wound sewn shut with needles. Blood covered the floor. My fiancé burst in with my parents. Seeing my state, they got furious. "You filthy maid's daughter! How dare you?"