Melodramatic Short Stories & Homewrecker Face Slapping Novels

Leon, drink up. Finish every drop in this glass." As my wife, Alice Carr, holds a glass of warm milk, she keeps staring at my Adam's apple intensely. Every night, she needs to watch me finish the entire glass of milk. At first, I think this is Alice's way of showing me her love. That is, until something occurred last month. Back then, my neighbor's fire alarm blared extremely loudly due to a fire breaking out. Yet, I had slept like a log the whole time. Only then do I realize that something is wrong with the milk. Last night, I pretended to go on a business trip. When I secretly go home in the middle of the night, I find out that my bedroom door is locked. When I peek through the gap in the door, I feel my hairs rising on their ends. It turns out that Alice isn't asleep at all. She's standing on the balcony while holding my pillow and burying her face into it. Then, she inhales the scent deeply, as though she were a drug addict. Her shoulders keep trembling violently the whole time. It's one thing if Alice is madly addicted to my scent. The thing is, the pillowcase is a part of the bedroom set that my mom has dug up from my childhood home last week. I never have a chance to use that pillow, so there's no way my scent lingers on the pillowcase. Suddenly, Alice halts in her actions and raises her head. She looks up at the moon while licking her lips in an euphoric haze. Then, she mumbles softly, "Your dad's scent… is fading away…"

My wife, Denise Hawkins, and I are invited to a hypnosis reality show. The hypnotist, Magnus Pitt, asks her, "What's the most unforgettable day in your life?" Denise's answer is our wedding night. While I'm secretly happy about it, I hear her add, "Back then, the fun I had with Alan was too intense and spicy that we ended up ruining the sheets." I initially thought that Denise is working with the production crew to play a prank on me. After all, she was with me the entire night. How is it possible for her to sleep with her childhood friend, Alan Parker, anyway? But then Denise continues, "Alan came when it was past midnight. I was afraid that I might wake my husband up, so I dared not make a sound at all." Immediately, the entire studio goes eerily quiet.

My mother-in-law, Emma Grant, and I return to the country in advance during Christmas Eve. We originally plan on giving our respective husbands a huge surprise by showing up at Grant Manor. But the moment we arrive at the front door, we find out that the entire manor is painted in pink. A rich lady quickly blocks our way. "This is a private Christmas Eve party, you know! Not anyone is allowed entry! Besides, I don't recall having invited you here! Get lost now!" Emma frowns at her. "What a joke! Why do I need your permission to come here?" The lady shoots Emma a dark smirk in return. "Do you have any idea who the owner of this manor is? It belongs to my husband, Edward Grant! "In fact, Edward's the one who specifically threw this party just for me! Since you're dressed like a slut at this age, that just means you're planning to use this opportunity to seduce my darling husband!" My mind begins buzzing loudly. Isn't Edward Grant my father-in-law, who married into the Grant family as a live-in son-in-law? How could he be this lady's husband instead? Then, the lady catches sight of my phone's lock screen, which is my wedding portrait with my husband, Caleb Grant. She roars, "Oh, I see! You two are a pair of shameless minxes! It seems you've found out that my adoptive son, Caleb, is about to get engaged with my daughter tonight! That's why you're here to cause chaos, right?" Emma and I swap glances with each other in confusion. It turns out that both Edward and Caleb have been cheating on us this whole time. But then again, these two men are living off the Grant family! What makes them think they have the right to have side chicks on their own?

I spent eight years raising Dante's children. Three of them, and every single one belonged to him and his arranged wife Bianca. Not one was mine. I fought against it. I really did. But the Costello family needed heirs, and my background was too ordinary. The family would never accept me. Dante always had something to say about it. "Nora, once Bianca has the baby, I'll take you to the States. You can go to art school, open your own gallery. It's what your mother always wanted, isn't it?" Then Bianca had a son, and suddenly the family needed a daughter too, someone they could marry off to another faction. When the daughter came, the elders stepped in and said the mob was a bloody business and you needed enough children to guarantee the line would continue. Eight years. I went from Dante's lover to something worse than a servant. Then I got pregnant. I was so happy I could barely breathe when I told him. I thought this baby would finally be our way out. But there was no smile on his face. Just a look that was pained and apologetic, like he already knew what he was going to say. "Nora, you don't have a place in this family. Neither does your child. He'd disrupt the line of succession. We can't let him be born." I pressed my hand to my stomach, just barely starting to show. Hot tears hit the floor. Fine. If we couldn't leave together, I would leave alone.

After my son was abducted, my husband took me to an adoption center to bring home a baby boy born the same year as the child we'd lost. I poured every ounce of love I had into raising him. He had a sensitive stomach, so I pushed through my chronic back pain to cook him special meals every single day. When he spiked a fever in the middle of the night, I carried him twenty miles through the rain to the nearest hospital. When he couldn't focus in school, I was constantly at his classroom door, flattering his teachers and bringing them gifts, just to get them to pay a little extra attention to him. Fifteen years of grinding sacrifice, and it all came down to one moment at his college acceptance party. "I couldn't have gotten into Harvard without my mother's love and hard work," he said into the microphone. He raised his glass, eyes drifting toward where I was sitting. The cameras flashed as I started to rise from my seat, matching his silent lip movements. And then I heard a name I didn't expect. "She is Rachel Lynch." I froze. That was my best friend's name.

On the last day of the long weekend, my childhood best friend asked to borrow my half-million-dollar Porsche so he could drive out to the next town over and meet some girl he had been set up with. We went way back, so I did not just fill up the tank for him. I went ahead and tossed a box of condoms in the glovebox too. Then my phone buzzed. The dashcam was still synced to my account, and my wife's voice came through the live feed. "Babe, I can't believe you actually took that idiot's car to drive us to a motel on the toll-free highway. This is so hot." I stood there and felt the ground drop out from under me. The "blind date" my best friend had gone to meet was my wife, the woman I had married less than three months ago. "You two love free rides that much? Then stay on that highway forever." I opened the Porsche's remote vehicle management app and typed in a single command. "Auto-lock all doors by midnight. Kill all power." Right then, they were cruising down an icy mountain expressway at 10,000 feet, and the temperature was dropping fast. Midnight was only minutes away.

The day I confirmed I was three months pregnant, I went to Oliver's office to drop off some files. I was finally going to tell him the good news. The Pack was in the grip of a record heat wave, and with the temperature climbing toward 122 degrees, I reached over to switch on the AC. His secretary stopped me before I could. "Luna, I'm on my period, and our Pack wolves already carry the Cold Curse. It isn't hot enough to need the AC." But I was afraid the heat would hurt the tiny life growing inside me. I shot her a glance, said nothing, and turned it on anyway. Late that night, Oliver came home from a business dinner and led with an accusation the second he walked in. "Sophia already gets cramps and nausea on her period, and you blasted cold air at her for forty-one minutes and thirty-eight seconds. You put her in the ICU with stomach spasms." "Oliver, air conditioning doesn't hurt anyone, and I've had periods too. Never mind that. There's something important I need to tell you. I'm preg—" Oliver pulled the corner of his mouth into a smile, drew me into his arms, and cut off the words before I could finish. "I lost my head. You're right." He kissed my forehead the way he always did, murmuring softly until I fell asleep. But when I woke, I was inside a transparent glass freezer room. Every face around me belonged to someone important in the Pack. Outside the glass, Oliver stood with a hand on Sophia's soft waist, watching me with a smile. "You like the cold air? Then today you can have all you want." My heart sank. I pulled out my phone and photographed the people around me. Then I made a call. "Dad. None of these people need to live to see tomorrow's sun."

While greeting guests on Christmas evening, I realize that my wife, Carol Wilson, is nowhere to be found. Just as I'm about to look for her, a barrage of comments flashes before my eyes. [They're getting it on in the balcony! Oh my god, things are really heating up between the male and female leads, even in this freezing weather! This is so exciting!] [It's all the villainous male side character's fault for being clueless and interfering in their relationship! If not, the female lead would have slept with her brother-in-law ages ago! ] I slowly head toward the balcony, but my parents-in-law, Harry Wilson and Rita Malone, immediately stop me. "Hey Alec, I already asked Carol to go and check on our reservations at the restaurant. It's almost time anyway. We should head out." [That was close! Good thing the female lead's parents were smart enough.] [Aww, the moment the female lead heard it was almost time to go, she fell right back into her brother-in-law's arms and got kissed so hard it left her breathless.] So, Harry and Rita are in on it, and they are lying to me to cover for Carol. I decide to do the exact opposite of what they want. I look at the balcony again—where the temperature is well below freezing—then turn to address the rest of the guests and relatives in the apartment. "It's freezing out there, so maybe we shouldn't put ourselves through such misery. I'll call the restaurant and change our reservation to a delivery instead. Let's all stay in and have fun all night long!" The comments, along with Harry and Rita, are all stupefied by my decision. [What? All night long? At this rate, the two leads are going to freeze into ice sculptures outside!]

Everyone in college has gone home for winter break. A guy from the next class shares a photo in our group chat, bragging about his Christmas gift—ten thousand and one 100-dollar bills. The entire group chat goes wild. I jump on the bandwagon, sending a couple of envious memes before tapping on the photo to zoom in. Ten thousand and one consecutive bills. But my eyes lock onto the family portrait peeking out from the edge of the frame. The woman in the photo… is Mom? I dial her number immediately. "Hey Mom, what Christmas gift are you going to get me this year?" On the other end of the line, her laughter falters. Then she replies casually, "Same as always—200 dollars. It's just a formality anyway. Why do you ask?" I force a smile and tell her it's nothing. I hang up and immediately hail a cab to that guy's house.

I've bought Mom a premium membership card at Juniper Group, which includes an all-inclusive medical screening every year. This year, her back has been giving her trouble, so she comes to Heston a bit earlier than usual. But when we walk up to the front desk at Juniper Hospital, the receptionist tells us that the coverage has already been redeemed. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but this card was swiped three months ago at our pet center," she explains. "Your coverage is completely maxed out." Mom stares at her, frozen for a few seconds as if she has misheard. Then, she quietly says, "That's fine. I'll just pay out of pocket." It costs 398 dollars for the basic package, and it doesn't even include a bone density scan. When I get home that evening, she has made pasta for dinner. The hospital receipt sits on the table. I ask her how the checkup went, and she shrugs it off. "It went well. There just seems to be a glitch in their system." Later, I find out that the person who used the card is my boyfriend, Brandon Kaiser. He's taken it to Juniper Pet Center to cover a top-of-the-line vet exam for Goldie, the cat belonging to his childhood sweetheart, Alana Sutton. When I confront him and ask why he didn't bother to tell me, he just leans against the kitchen island, sipping a club soda. He doesn't even look up. "Your mom wasn't even in town yet," he mutters. "The cat needed urgent care, so I just used it." "That card belonged to my mom," I say. He gives a careless shrug. "Big deal. I'll just buy you a replacement later, alright? Just then, Mom walks out of the kitchen with a plate of crisp, freshly sliced apples and sets them down right next to my hand. She's heard every single word of our conversation. Yet, she doesn't say a word. She just turns right back around and heads into the kitchen to finish the dishes. As I look down at that plate of apples, a wave of clarity washes over me. I don't want him to replace the card anymore.

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?

On my second day of employment at the city hall, I took over my colleague’s tasks. A young man came requesting for a new copy of his marriage certificate. It was far from his first visit. My colleague, Bernard Anderson, laughed. “This is the 99th time he’s here to get a copy of his marriage certificate again! We have all of his information ready, so the process wouldn’t take long.” I was stunned. “99th time?” Bernard laughed. “That’s right. He married a rich older woman. They always fought, and they would tear up their marriage certificate whenever they fought. “He’s so immature. Only an older lady would be able to tolerate him. I heard his wife is from the wealthiest family of our city, the Jameson family.” Immediately, I frowned. “The Jameson family has always kept a very low profile. Is his wife a fraud?” Bernard immediately stopped me from talking. “Don’t say that, she’s the rightful successor of the Jameson family, Mae Jameson.” I was stunned. My phone slipped from my hand and fell onto the desk. It was a photo of Mae and I on my lockscreen. Before me, the young man’s face fell. He snatched my phone. “Who are you? Why do you have a photo with my wife?”

While waiting for my sons, Mason and Cayden Cox, to get out of school, I come across a post online. The poster asks, "What's the proudest thing you've ever done?" Some people in the comments talk about their happy families, while others mention achieving financial freedom. However, the top comment stands out for all the wrong reasons. "My proudest achievement? My childhood friend's wife had twins, and one of them is mine! That poor idiot has been raising my son for me all these years." Everyone's confused. "How could twins possibly have different fathers?" He responds, "Let's just say the timing lined up perfectly… You can figure out the rest. Now that the boy looks more like me every day, I couldn't be happier!" My breath hitches in my throat.

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.

My five-year-old son and my husband’s mistress were both trapped inside the vampire hunters’ Sun fire Array. As the most powerful Shadow Wielder in the vampire realm, I was certain I could save them both. But my husband, the revered vampire Prince Arthur, had my mother dragged before me in silver chains, stopping just inches from the blazing sunlight. “Give Ella the Shadow Shield first, or I’ll turn your mother to ash.” He gave the order without a trace of emotion, all to protect the human woman he loved. I had no choice but to shield Ella first. Seconds later, the Sun fire Array detonated ahead of schedule. I could only watch as Noah crumbled to ash, still screaming for me. I lunged toward where he had disappeared and scooped up his scorching ashes with my bare hands, even as the white light burned my fingers bloody and raw. Ella nestled against Arthur’s chest. “Noah may be dead, but at least you saved me, Serena. Why are you so determined to blame Arthur? Shouldn’t you be grateful that two people didn’t die today?” “Exactly,” Arthur said coldly. “Serena, if you hadn’t deliberately stalled, someone with your power could have saved them both.” I stared at Arthur, and every last trace of love I had carried for him over the past century turned to hatred. Arthur had forgotten one thing. I was more than his wife and the clan’s High Priestess. I was the sole master of the Shadow Barrier. The barrier that had protected his territory for a century had never belonged to him. When I appeared before Arthur again on the arm of Lucas Kane, the First King of the North, the once-untouchable vampire prince finally broke. Arthur fell to his knees in the tundra snow and begged me to come back. But this time, his territory, his throne, and his life were all mine to decide.

I was the one who first spotted the pimple on my husband Ryan Bennett's back. It was plump, red, and swollen, topped with a whitehead that looked ready to burst at any moment. I rubbed my hands together in excitement and told him not to move. Once the extraction tool I'd ordered arrived, I was going to perform a little "operation" on it. He laughed and said sure, adding that he loved this weird little hobby of mine. Two days later, he came back from his business trip. I rushed over with my brand-new "surgical instruments," only to find that patch of skin smooth and clear, with nothing left but a faint red mark. My heart deflated just like that pimple. Someone had beaten me to it.

Two in the morning. I found over a hundred transfer records on my husband Derek's phone. Every single one was for five, ten, or fifteen dollars. I opened the recipient's Instagram profile and found a feed full of pink hair, smoky eye makeup, and skin-tight low-rise jeans. Underneath was a caption that stung: "Thanks for the hot dogs, Pops. Spoiled again today." And the first person to like the post was my own daughter, Crystal, a well-behaved high school senior.

I came home after a meeting with the Vitale Family's capos and carried Elena from the front door all the way into the living room. Her legs were wrapped around my waist as she leaned in to kiss me. Just as I was about to kiss her back, I spotted a cream pastry on the table. Elena and I were both allergic to cream. In seven years of marriage, nothing made with cream had ever entered this estate. “Who bought this?” Elena paused for a moment, then tightened her arms around my neck. “Sophia brought it last night and forgot to take it with her.” But in the early hours of yesterday, I’d been at a dock three hundred miles away, watching Sophia sign off on a sealed shipment. That was the moment I knew my Donna had betrayed me.

The Alpha King was ambushed on his way to the Alliance summit. Eight months pregnant, I threw myself in front of him without thinking and took the silver bullet meant for him. In my last life, my husband, Lucas Mercer, had been in charge of the Alpha King’s security. But when the ambush struck, he was secretly meeting his first love, Serena Vale. Worse, he had taken his entire elite unit with him as cover, claiming they were on assignment. I sent Lucas one mind-link after another, but he never answered. With no other choice, I triggered a level-one alarm myself and ordered his unit back. Afterward, Lucas received the Alliance’s top commendation and was promoted to Minister of War. But Serena was cornered and killed by rogues. Lucas blamed me for her death. On the night of his victory banquet, I went into labor. Instead of taking me to a healer, Lucas personally injected me with wolfsbane and dragged me to the rogue pit. “You were jealous of Serena, so you got her killed on purpose,” he snarled. “Now you and that child are going to suffer exactly the way she did!” He threw me into the pit while our baby was still inside me. My last memory was the sound of my newborn crying once before the starving rogues tore us apart. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the ambush. This time, I did not sound the alarm. When the assassin raised his gun, I moved before I could think. I wrapped both arms around my swollen belly and threw myself in front of the Alpha King. I did not know whether I would live. I only knew that if Lucas wanted Serena more than his duty, I would never save his future for him again.