Cerita Pendek & Novel Homewrecker

When I went to get a replacement copy of our marriage certificate, the clerk at the registrar's office told me, "This certificate is a forgery. There's no record of your marriage in the system." "But Michele and I got married four years ago, at St. Mary's Church. We had witnesses..." I steadied my breathing. "Please check again." The clerk sighed and clicked her mouse a few times. "We found a registration for Michele Corleone, but the spouse listed isn't you." My voice shook. "Who's his legal wife?" The clerk answered without looking up. "Rita Greco." Before I heard that name, I'd still been telling myself the system might have made a mistake. But of course it was Rita, Michele's childhood sweetheart. Suddenly everything made sense. In the four years I'd spent as Michele's wife, he'd never once held my hand in public. No famiglia galas, no formal introductions. Some of the Corleones didn't even know my name. I'd asked him why, and he'd told me, "It's to protect you. In the underworld, the less visible you are, the safer you are." I'd believed him. Now I finally understood. The marriage I'd poured everything into, the one I'd believed in for four years, had been fake from the very beginning. I'd never once been let into his real life. And as the woman who'd made that mistake, only one path was left to me. With trembling fingers, I pulled out my phone and dialed a number I hadn't touched in four years. [Papa, I want to come home.]

I'm the Donna of the Vitale family, the wife of Domenico Vitale, the woman everyone is expected to bow to. Yet whether I need to access family funds, arrange a car, make a doctor's appointment, or even prepare a gown for a party, I must submit an application first. The woman who approves every request is Camilla Marino, Domenico's most trusted secretary. He says this is family protocol. As the Donna, I should be the first to follow the rules. Things change when I suffer a massive hemorrhage during my pregnancy. My request for emergency medical treatment is pending approval, yet I have already waited longer than I should have. I call Domenico and beg, "Domenico, please. Tell Camilla to approve it. We're going to lose our baby." He gently scolds me for trying to bypass family protocol. "Do as Camilla says." Just like that, he hangs up. That night, I lose my baby, as well as whatever love I have left for Domenico. I file for divorce and leave with nothing but a few clothes I owned before the marriage. He's convinced I'm doing this out of jealousy toward Camilla, that it is a calculated scheme to make him come crawling after me. He even tracks me down at my new place of work and publicly orders my medical treatment to be stopped, certain that once I lose the Vitale family's money and protection, I'll have no choice but to beg him. Trembling, our private physician tells him the truth. "Don Vitale, Signora miscarried a long time ago."

On the third day of Nathan’s silent treatment, I miscarried. I lay alone in the hospital and called my fiancé three times. He accused me of trying to get his attention and impatiently hung up. That night, he stayed with his assistant, Chloe, to redesign our wedding decorations. The next day, he handed her the wedding I had designed myself, gave her my position, and ordered me to complete the handover. I didn’t argue. I didn’t try to prove myself right. I simply handed over every file, submitted my resignation, and accepted a new job. “I knew giving someone like Emma the silent treatment would work. Look how obedient she is now. She’s only behaving because she’s afraid of losing you.” Nathan believed her completely and praised Chloe for being clever. Then he found me alone and told me that the wedding would go ahead as planned. After we got married, he promised he would be a responsible father—and expected me to remain as obedient as I was now. I looked at him and returned his ring. “You don’t need to be a father anymore.” His smile disappeared. “The baby is gone. And I’m no longer your fiancée.” I placed my resignation papers in his hands. “You already signed them.”

My father was a judge, but he fell in love with a killer. His lover ran my grandparents down with her car. He found her not guilty in court. At the time, his power was absolute. No one dared to go against him. That homewrecker lived in luxury and got whatever she asked for. My mother lost both her parents, suffered betrayal, and was driven mad by everyone's ridicule. Thirty years passed. I fought with everything I had and became a Supreme Court justice. During graduation season, I sat on the interview panel as presiding justice. Across from me was a poised, immaculate young woman. She was the finest graduate the law school had produced this year. Looking at that familiar face, I glanced down at the surname on her file. When I saw it, I froze. I stared at it for a long time. Then I raised my head and looked at the young woman who bore a faint resemblance to me. “We won’t be hiring you.”

In the fifth year of my secret marriage to Dante Greco, a notorious Los Angeles mafia heir, I became pregnant. While I was at the family hospital for a prenatal checkup, I happened to see Vivienne Sarti's Instagram. "He says I'm still pretty even when I'm pregnant!" In the photo, she was lying lazily in a man's arms. My chest tightened at once. On his finger was the lion-head ring worn by the Greco Don. I tapped the "Like" button. Seconds later, Vivienne called me. "Ana, I wasn't trying to upset you. I was—" Before Vivienne could finish, Dante snatched the phone from her. "Anna Reid, who gave you permission to monitor our social media accounts? I've explained it to you plenty of times. We grew up together, and our families work together. If you keep getting jealous like this, how are the rest of us supposed to function?" I gripped my phone. For five years, Vivienne had used their childhood bond as an excuse to insult me. I had endured it every time. Dante would spend whole nights with Vivienne under the pretext of discussing family business. The moment I asked about it, he refused to say a word. He always said it was because I had no mafia background of my own. It wasn't my world, and I was done trying to force my way into it. I took off my wedding ring and dropped it in a trash can on the street. Then I called the private hospital. "Hello. I want today's prenatal record deleted. No one can know about it."

"I crossed a line. I fell for Ilaria." On our wedding day, the car had barely pulled away when Matteo Rossi turned to look at me. He pointed at the seat beneath me and said coldly, "Last night, she sat right there, wrapped her legs around my waist and kissed me. I couldn't hold back. We had sex in the car. "I guess I'm no different from any other man. I finally understand Luca. Ilaria really does have more fire in her than you." Luca was my ex-husband and Matteo's half-brother. Ilaria had been my only friend since childhood. Three years ago, I walked in on the two of them in my bedroom. The shock caused a late-term miscarriage. When I fell into the dark, Matteo was my light. And now he had betrayed me the same way.

The staff member handed the marriage certificate back to me. "Mr. Evans, this marriage certificate is a forgery. According to our records, Mrs. Fielder's spouse is Marcus Brown. They have a six-year-old son together." The words on the certificate blurred before my aching eyes. I held my daughter tightly in my arms as my ears rang. A second later, my phone vibrated. A message had arrived from Marcus, Natalie's assistant and her legal husband. Marcus: [Matthew, my wife is at our son's parent-teacher conference. She doesn't have time to register your illegitimate daughter.] I clutched my phone and stared at the message until tears blurred my vision. So I was the other man all along. The grand wedding we'd once held, the years we'd spent inseparable, the marriage I'd been so proud of... None of it had been real. On the way home, I called the woman Natalie hated most, her sworn enemy. "I'm single now. If you're still willing, I'll marry you in seven days," I said.

My mother, Diane Sutton, was helping me into the bridal suite when she suddenly stumbled forward. Someone had smeared strong adhesive across the red carpet. Her shoe came off, and four of her toes poked through her torn stocking. My father, Martin Sutton, rushed over to help her, but as soon as he turned, everyone saw the sticky note on his back. "Clearance! 99 cents!" The room fell silent. Chiara Lombardi, Enzo Valli's assistant, couldn't hold back anymore. She burst out laughing, then said, "Look how embarrassing they look! I hereby declare the 100th test officially underway!" I froze. "Wasn't it already over?" Three years ago, Enzo told me he wanted to marry me. His father, Don Marco Valli, respected me as an attorney but believed my family background made me unfit to marry his son. So Marco and his advisor came up with 99 tests and put Chiara in charge of them. They hoped I'd eventually give up and call off the wedding myself. Over the next three years, Chiara replaced my toothpaste with mustard, swapped my shampoo for depilatory cream, and even released rats into my room at night. Whenever I felt like I couldn't take it anymore, Enzo would pull me into his arms and murmur, "Nora, just hang on a little longer. Once the tests are over, I promise no one will ever hurt you again." He could not openly defy the procedure the advisor had set, but he never once bothered to ask what Chiara had put me through. As long as we got married in the end, what I endured along the way didn't matter. Last night was the 99th test. I thought the nightmare was finally over. Then Chiara announced, "You passed. But your parents haven't! You're going to be the Donna one day. Your parents represent the Family too. If they can't handle something this minor, what good are they?" I turned to Enzo for help. He ruffled my hair as if soothing a petulant child. "Do as Chiara says. Just hang on a little longer." I'd put up with this for three years. I was done enduring it.

Everyone at Hartwell Group knew I loved Julian without a shred of dignity. I was the one who got him through his four most dangerous years. When there was an incident at one of the hotels, I went in his place. When the press had the group surrounded, I stood in front of the cameras for him. When protesters closed in on him, I put myself between them and took more than a dozen stitches in my arm. So when Julian gained full control of the group, our divorce became final, and he immediately announced his engagement to my sister Claire. Everyone looked at me with pity. I could accept that Julian did not love me. I could accept that on the very day our four-year marriage ended, he got engaged to my sister. I could even accept that the townhouse he promised me in the divorce settlement was given to Claire at the last minute. None of it had ever been freely given, so I had no right to ask for more. And besides... in four more days I was leaving New York.

My mate, Alex, had a childhood friend named Emily who was a healer. When she discovered that I was a highly sensitive person, she volunteered to put me through what she called 'desensitization therapy.' The first time, she told me I needed to learn to control my emotions, so she locked me in a noisy bar's storage room for an entire night. The second time, she said I needed to overcome my tactile sensitivity. She drenched me in ice-cold water and forced me to stand in the freezing wind for three hours. Alex was present every single time. Each time, he told her, "Thank you for all your hard work, Emily. I know how much you're doing for her." Then came the banquet, where she poured an entire vial of wolfsbane-laced potion into my champagne and announced that this would be my final desensitization therapy session. I clutched my swollen throat and collapsed to the floor. I couldn't speak or catch my breath. Alex merely frowned and said coldly, "Elena, this is for your own good. Just get through this one last session." Lying among the shattered glass, I closed my eyes and pressed the beacon badge I had never used before. When Dad finally burst through the doors, tears I'd held back for three years streamed down my face. It was time to end this.

The pack knew my mother, Wynne Carter, a renowned pack healer, as the very definition of fairness. To avoid any accusation of favoritism, she once had me removed from the emergency ward while I was suffering from a severe allergic reaction, all because she couldn’t let her own daughter take medical resources away from other pack members. Even when I invited her to the academy’s open day, she turned me down because my instructor was pregnant. She reprimanded me sternly, “Get those funny ideas out of your head. My position is not a way for you to get special treatment from your instructors.” I had always believed my mother was merely strict. Then, the fire happened. My adopted sister, Lena Sylan Carter, and I, who was five months along, were taken to the pack infirmary. My mother walked straight past me while I clutched my belly in agony. She assembled the infirmary’s best healers around Lena, all to treat a minor burn to the back of her hand. “Lena is just a fragile human. She doesn’t have healing powers. Even a small wound could become infected or leave a scar. “Odette Carter, you’re my flesh and blood. If I were to give you priority, the elders will have something to say about that. “Why are you making this about yourself and competing with Lena for attention? You’re about to become a mother yourself. It’s time you grew up!” I grabbed desperately at her pant leg, only for her to shake me off in annoyance and walk away. Little did she know, my wolf had been severely injured. My healing ability was gone. Blood ran down my legs, and the pain in my abdomen shifted into hollow numbness. The truth that my mother wasn’t impartial sank in. I simply wasn’t the one she favored. My vision blurred. I knew that I didn’t have much time left.

Three months had passed since my husband vanished while hiking in the fjords. Then I spotted him in a VIP room at a Manhattan strip club, one arm wrapped around my adopted sister's waist, looking like he didn't have a care in the world. "Thank God you came up with this idea. I'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be free of that control freak." His friends raised their glasses and cheered, asking how much longer he planned to play dead. Alex swirled his drink as he considered the question. "Next week. Once the guilt and panic drive her crazy, I'll show up and give her a nice surprise." I stood in the shadows, watching him enjoy his newfound freedom. Then I called a friend who worked at the courthouse.

It was my parents' twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. The whole family kept it from me and took my adopted sister Evelyn to the most expensive Italian restaurant in New York. My older brother Luca raised his glass. "Evelyn wants to study business management. I'll introduce her to the right people." My younger brother Noah handed her a gift. "This bracelet suits you, sis." My mother put the sapphire earrings my grandmother had left me in her ears, smiling. "Evelyn, with us here, you'll never have to be afraid of anything again." My father nodded. "You need these more than Leah does. She's had it good her whole life. It's only right that she gives way to you." I stood in the cold wind outside the restaurant, looking down at the family photo on my phone. In it, all five of them were beaming. No one noticed that one person was missing. Me. Suddenly I understood. They hadn't forgotten me. They had simply never seen me as someone who needed to be chosen. In that case, I didn't want them either. I applied to the school farthest from home. From now on, they were them. And I was me. Later, when I'd made a name, made money, and found my footing on my own, they came looking for me with their bills.

On my twenty-ninth birthday, I was supposed to be formally announced as the next head of the Ashford family. But before the charity gala began, my mother fed my succession speech into the shredder and replaced it with a written pledge to my sister. "Lydia hasn't had an easy time since the wedding. Announce in public that you're giving her the Harbor Hotel. Think of it as backing her up." It was the first property my grandmother had left me, and the only project I had been allowed to run on my own in eight years. I asked my mother, "And if I'm not willing?" My father looked at me coldly. "Don't forget, you'll inherit all of Ashford one day. She only has us." They had always used the inheritance to keep me in line, forcing me to hand over what was mine to my sister Lydia. This time, I didn't argue. I took out the resignation letter I had signed long before and set it in front of my father. "Then let Lydia inherit all of Ashford. "From today on, I want nothing."

After five years of keeping the demon sealed away, I finally saw my sister again—inside a coffin, her body mangled beyond recognition. The men carrying the coffin were whispering to each other. "She died like this, and nobody even investigated? Isn't her brother-in-law some big shot?" "Shh! She's only his sister-in-law. How could she matter more than his new lover? Mr. Smith even helped cover the whole thing up!" "His ex-wife has been dead for five years. Ms. Sophia runs the house now!" "They say the wedding is tomorrow, and it's going to be huge!" For five years, I'd stayed in a graveyard, keeping a demon sealed away for my husband, Victor Smith. Meanwhile, he'd found another woman to replace me. Worse, he'd stood by while she erased every trace of my existence and tortured my only sister for years. When my sister finally tried to escape and come looking for me, Sophia ran her over and killed her. I stroked what remained of my sister's face and smiled. I'd given up everything to protect Victor. This was how he repaid me. Fine. Then I'll stop protecting him. It's time to let the demon have him.

I am the Oracle, the High Priestess who connects the divine realm to the mortal world. My daughter, however, was born with only a trace of divine power, leaving her little different from an ordinary human. I brought four orphans back from the beastman world and raised them myself. I gave them only one condition: protect my daughter from harm. For years, her four brothers shielded her, leaving her free to be as willful as she liked. Then, on the day of her coming-of-age rite, her prayer reached me. "Mother, my brothers are going to sacrifice me so Daisy can receive the Goddess's protection." By the time I got there, my daughter was bound to the altar. My four sons were busy preparing the altar. Daisy preened at their side. I was about to begin the chant that would punish them. Christopher, the serpent, pulled Daisy close and wrapped a protective arm around her. Gardner, the polar bear, talked back to me for the first time. "Mother, our little sister hurt Daisy first. "We only meant to frighten her. "The rite only takes away her ability to speak with the Goddess. She is useless anyway. She may as well be ordinary." I looked at the ingrates I had personally raised and scoffed. They had forgotten something. Every skill, every power, every title they held had come from me. I had made them. I could unmake them just as easily.

After my sister and I were both diagnosed with liver failure, we were admitted to the same hospital. But only one matching donor liver was available. My family favored her. I still wanted to live. I broke down in the hospital hallway, pleading with my parents for that chance. Someone filmed me and posted the video online. Everyone called me cold and selfish. They said I had sacrificed my humanity just to stay alive. When it was time to sign the preoperative paperwork, my brother finally came to my room. His face was hard. The moment he saw me, he started in on me. He wouldn't even look at me. "This family has always indulged you because you're the youngest. Haven't you caused enough trouble? "Camilla Hale is only twenty. Her life is just beginning. "You've been sickly since childhood, but we've taken care of you all these years. What would it cost you to put her first this once? "You've been sick your whole life, and you've always pulled through." He didn't know Camilla had secretly switched our test results. Before I could tell him, his phone rang. Camilla sobbed on the other end, asking if I was still being heartless. Henry's voice softened as he reassured her. "Don't be afraid. I'm here. "This is yours. No one is going to take it from you." Whenever I got sick as a child, my brother, Henry Hale, carried me to the hospital on his back. Back then, he would hold my hand and say, "Livia, I'll be your guardian angel." Now, as I looked at his familiar face, I understood how much trouble I had caused everyone... "All right, Henry. She can have the transplant."

During our eight years together, Lorenzo, the Falcone family Don’s heir, cheated on me with eight women. A dancer, a college student, a sex worker... Every one of them was nothing like me. Eight times, I fought, I raged, and I even cut my wrists. And every time, Lorenzo knelt before me and swore it would never happen again. "I swear to God, Beatrice, I was just tempted by someone new. You're the only woman I love." I believed him. Today was our ninth anniversary. Then I found the ninth: my best friend, Giuliana. They were holding each other like real lovers. Hands shaking, I called home, expecting the comfort my family had given me the other eight times. Instead, my parents said I had it coming. A daughter from a minor noble house had never been good enough for the Falcone heir. My brother said I was too stupid to make myself lovable, and that was why I'd finally driven Lorenzo to cheat. Eventually, even I began to wonder if it was all my fault. I saw a therapist. She advised me to divorce as soon as possible and stop clinging to someone I wasn't good enough for. I came back to the estate in a daze, only to hear Lorenzo's voice in the study, warm with laughter. "Giuliana, you're the clever one. You suggested I fake those affairs so she'd get used to me cheating and wouldn't lose her mind and hurt you. "I've taken care of the therapist. Her parents and brother will keep pressuring her. Soon enough, she'll ask for the divorce herself. "As soon as she's gone, I'll marry you." I stood there listening as tears slipped down my cheeks. I'd been living inside a lie they had all helped build. I was done playing the fool in their elaborate charade.

The day my husband kicked me off the Rinaldi family council, Irene Costa was sitting in my chair. She had been engaged to his late brother. She was wearing my pearl necklace, and the brooch pinned to her chest was reserved for the Donna of the Rinaldi family. My mother had left me that necklace. I kept it in a safe, and the only person who knew the combination was my husband, Victor Rinaldi. He looked at me, his voice cold. "Irene is taking your place at tonight's South Port negotiation. When you learn to control your jealousy, I'll give you your seat back." No one at the table said a word. My pin, my necklace, and the South Port proposal I'd spent three months working on now lay in front of Irene. Everyone had forgotten that when I married Victor three years earlier, I brought my father's port and connections with me. I was the reason he still held the Don's seat. I was the reason the Rinaldi family had risen again. I reached for my necklace. Victor thought I was reaching for the pin instead and stepped in front of Irene. "It's just a pin. You're still the Donna. Be generous. Don't embarrass Irene." I said nothing else. Four days later, I set a stack of documents in front of him. "The South Port agreements. They need your signature." He was replying to a message from Irene. He picked up the pen without glancing at the documents. "You've checked them, haven't you?" Victor had always trusted my work. He had also always believed that no matter how badly he humiliated me, I would never leave. I watched him finish signing, then pulled the dissolution of our marriage contract from beneath the South Port agreements. In seven days, I would leave with the port my father had left me, the people loyal to me, and everything Victor had spent years mistaking for Rinaldi property.

I was in the living room, handling some work, and casually asked the smart assistant to play some music. "Alexa, play some jazz." "Sure. By the way, just a reminder—four days from now, at ten in the morning, you're scheduled to accompany Sienna to her prenatal checkup." My hand froze midair. My name is Victoria. And I'm not pregnant. Jonathan was walking out of the bathroom, towel-drying his hair. He saw the look on my face and pulled me into his arms. "What's wrong, sweetheart?" I casually darkened my phone screen and smiled. "Nothing. Just a little tired." Jonathan kissed my forehead, his eyes tender and full of love. "Go get some sleep. Don't miss your birthday party tomorrow—you're the star of the night. I can't wait to spend it with you." I leaned into his chest, my lips curling into a cold little smile. My dear husband, you'd better not have done anything to betray me. Otherwise, you're about to find out exactly what it costs to betray the daughter of a mafia family.