Cerita Pendek & Novel Homewrecker Tragic Love

A car accident left me with severe brain injuries. I was left hanging by a thread. My wife, a renowned medical genius, personally operated on me for 18 consecutive hours, pulling me back from death's grasp. Yet, the first words I said to her after waking up were, "Grace, I want a divorce." Her eyes were filled with tears. "Derek, I just saved your life, and now, you want to leave me? Is it because I've been too busy at the hospital? Because I haven't spent enough time with you?" I frowned. "It's exactly because you saved me that I want this divorce. I won't let you sacrifice your reputation for me." The family elders tried to reason with me. "Grace is such a wonderful wife. She takes care of everything and loves you deeply. Why insist on a divorce? Why throw away such happiness?" No matter who approached me, I dismissed them with the same response. "If you think she's so perfect, then she'll be available once we're divorced." The elders were furious. "Fine! Get your divorce! But don't come crying to us when you regret it!" I whispered under my breath, "The only thing I regret is not divorcing her sooner."

I had been married to Lucius Martin for three years, and in all that time, there was never a shortage of women around him. Each time he brought another woman home, he would give me a necklace worth a fortune. In just three short years, I had accumulated ninety-nine necklaces. When Lucius fastened the hundredth necklace around my neck, I no longer cried or made a scene. Because this time, the woman he cheated with was my own older sister, the one who had beaten and scolded me since we were children. The man I loved most joined hands with the person I hated most to torment me together. At that moment, my heart finally died. This time, I took the initiative and walked up to Lucius, placing a house purchase contract into his hands. "As long as you sign this," I said, "you can do whatever you want with her." A flicker of surprise crossed his eyes, but in the end, he signed without hesitation. For the first time ever, he even leaned down and gently kissed my cheek. "Good girl," he murmured. "You've finally learned to behave." I personally opened the car door for him and watched as he hurried off toward my sister. When the car disappeared completely from sight, I let out a long breath. Then I reached beneath the documents and pulled out the paper hidden there—a divorce agreement.

Tonight Daddy said he was going out with Auntie Benita, and Mommy didn’t fight him about it. She had a handkerchief balled up in her hand, soaked through with the blood she kept coughing up. I knew Mommy was going to heaven soon. That was how Grandpa told me it would be, back when Grandma coughed up blood like this. Daddy looked at Mommy, narrowed his eyes, and his voice went cold. “Isa needs a whole family. A smart woman learns to look the other way.” Mommy didn’t shield me and argue back the way she used to. She just said, softly, “Fine. I’ll charge by the visit. Every night you spend with her is one million.” Daddy laughed and wired her the money. After that night, Daddy went out a lot, and every time, Mommy reminded him to send the money. Mommy got so thin that her cheeks caved in, but her eyes were still bright. She took me lots of places, introduced me to lots of people, and made me write my own name over and over. She said she was going to leave everything to me. I held her tight. “I don’t want your things, Mommy. I just want you.”

Braving a downpour, I delivered a lavish food order, anticipating the hefty commission and a $100 tip. Laughter suddenly echoed from the villa. Someone started, "He really believes your car crash left you paralyzed? He's hustling deliveries to support you and even pawned his dad's heirloom?" Another said, "What if he discovers you're actually a billionaire heiress, just playing poor? He'd probably break down in tears." Jessica Stark toyed with her wine glass. "Guys like him are wired to serve, especially since he always outshone Mark in our school days. This is his comeuppance." I stood in the relentless rain, a bitter chuckle escaping my lips. Turned out, her two-year charade of paralysis was merely to avenge her childhood sweetheart. Her broken legs, deceased parents, and helpless tears were all meticulously crafted lies. Disillusioned, I dialed my estranged tycoon mother. "You win. I'll go through with the arranged marriage."

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.

My husband, Richard Hayes, hated special treatment and refused to make exceptions for anyone. So when I begged him to get my seriously ill father in to see a specialist sooner, his face went cold and he flatly refused. "The hospital has rules. Everyone waits their turn. Why should your dad get to cut the line?" He even dismissed the blood my father was coughing up as a flare-up of his chronic bronchitis. He said we were overreacting and wasting the hospital's time and resources. Seven months pregnant, I spent three nights camped out in the hospital waiting room so Richard wouldn't have to bend the rules for us. By the time my father finally received treatment, the delay had already taken its toll. He spent night after night in pain and was left with permanent damage. In the end, it was my father who told me not to blame Richard. Doctors couldn't make exceptions for people, he said. I needed to be more understanding. I believed in his high-minded principles, right up until today, when I left work early to bring him a meal at the hospital. I saw it with my own eyes. My husband was soothing another woman in her hospital bed. His first love, Daisy Lawson, had undergone a simple appendectomy, yet she was staying in the hospital's only VIP suite. Three of the hospital's best private-duty nurses took turns caring for her around the clock. Richard had even pulled strings to get her a hard-to-find painkiller overnight. Daisy whined that the medicine tasted bitter. Richard's face filled with concern. He unwrapped a piece of chocolate and fed it to her. "Daisy, sweetheart, take your medicine. You'll feel better soon. I've rescheduled all my upcoming surgeries so I can stay here with you." The thermos fell from my hand and hit the floor with a crash. Hot soup splashed all over my foot. It hit me all at once. There had never been any ironclad principles. He'd simply saved all his exceptions for someone else.

My mafia boyfriend, Silas Vale, didn’t recognize me when I dragged myself back to him after being tortured and shot by his rival gang. He was too busy holding Amy—his childhood sweetheart—in his arms. “Get this woman away from me,” he snapped at his guard. “Amy’s afraid of blood.” I’d lost so much blood I genuinely thought I might die that night. But luckily, a stranger passed by and rushed me to the hospital. When I finally recovered enough to walk, I went home—only to find Silas there, completely unconcerned about the fact that I had disappeared for almost a week. And Amy was there too. Her clothes were scattered across the floor. I didn’t confront Silas or say anything. I just pulled out my phone and called my brother. “You said you are moving to Italy? I’m coming with you.” If Silas couldn’t cherish me the way he was supposed to… then I’d vanish from his world for good this time.

On Christmas Eve, my husband's widowed sister-in-law, Roxy, called again. My husband, Damian Caruso, was in his study, listening to his underboss go over the books. I glanced at my husband's phone. Roxy's name flashed across the screen, and I answered. Her voice was sweet and helpless. "Dami, the backyard cameras just caught a man climbing over my wall. I don't know what to do..." I knew that carefully practiced helplessness all too well. I kept my voice even. "Do you want me to send some men to check it out?" There was a pause. When Roxy spoke again, the sweetness had drained from her voice. "Camilla? Why are you answering his phone? I don't need armed men showing up at my house and drawing attention. Dami is the only one I trust." Damian stepped out of his study, and I handed him the phone. I didn't hear what Roxy said, but his expression changed at once. "Okay. I'm on my way." I knew what that meant. Nine months pregnant, and I'd be spending Christmas Eve dinner alone again. Five years of marriage. Five Christmas Eves. The same thing every year. Roxy's calls always came in the early evening on Christmas Eve. Never too early, never too late. Damian grabbed his coat, wearing that familiar look of apology. "Roxy has it hard enough on her own. Marco took a bullet for me. I promised him I'd look after her and the boy." "I'll check on her and come straight back. I promise I'll be home in time for Midnight Mass." It wasn't a question. He was telling me what he'd already decided. For the first four years, I'd argued. I'd cried. I'd asked him why he always left. And Damian always gave the same answers. "We're family. If I can help, I should." "Don't worry. This year, I'll stay the whole night with you." But he had never kept that promise. Outside, the church bells began to ring, and snow started to fall. I watched him walk away and suddenly realized I no longer cared whether he made it back in time. This year, I wasn't going to wait for him.

My CEO boyfriend, Dylan Abbott, has a phobia of getting married. Because of that, he sets up a weird rule that requires me to pass all 99 trials set up by his secretary, Lynette Woods, before finally agreeing to marry me. The first time we're about to get married, I wait for Dylan at the marriage registration department for three hours. But that's when I'm informed that Lynette has lost Dylan's ID, causing our registration to get delayed. The second time we're about to get married, Lynette happens to be driving around in my car. She stages a brake failure and hits a passerby on purpose. By the time I'm done dealing with the accident and rush to the City Hall with Dylan, it's already closed for the day. The 98th time we're about to get married, Lynette laces my glass of water with rat poison. Because of that, I'm taken to the hospital immediately to have my stomach pumped out, hence missing out on the marriage registration. When it's the 99th time for us to get married, I'm under the impression that I've passed Lynette's trials, which means Dylan won't flake out on me anymore. But I spend the day waiting for Dylan at the City Hall till nightfall. I've spammed so many phone calls and text messages to him, and yet he never shows up. In the end, I come across a post Lynette has made on her social media feed about her and Dylan being officially married. "My boss loves me far too much! All I said was that I wanted to get married as well, and he was quick to marry me at the City Hall! I love him so much!" I just leave a like on the post without losing my temper or kicking up a ruckus. That's when Dylan calls me on the phone all of a sudden. "Don't misunderstand the whole thing, Felicia. This marriage is just a joke. Lynette is a graduate hailing from an overseas university. I merely married her because I want her to keep working for my company without any complaints. "Once the divorce procedures are over, I'll marry you immediately before throwing you the grandest wedding ever, okay?" What Dylan doesn't know is that I've already signed an agreement with the system. If I can't get married with Dylan in five years, that means I've lost the bet. My time will be up in three days. By then, I'll get annihilated by the system. There will no longer be a future for me and Dylan.

During a family gathering, my daughter drove her rideable toy car straight into me and shattered my leg because she wanted to stand up for her live-in manny, Wilson Smith. As I lay on the ground in agony, she glared at me and said, "You're not my dad! Wilson takes care of me. He's kind to me. Mom and I both like him!" From where I had fallen, I looked up and saw Wilson standing at the center of the crowd, surrounded by smiles and admiration. At that moment, a bitter realization settled over me. I mattered less than a manny to my own family. I soon filed for divorce. Then, I signed up for a community revitalization initiative and spent the next twenty years helping struggling communities build better lives. My family did not need me, but somewhere else in the world, there were people who did.

While I'm off taking a mascot job at the mall just to make a quick buck, my wife, Marissa Osbourne, is accompanying her first love, Dominic Finch, on a shopping trip to buy him a suit. She even goes as far as to buy him five suits in one go just to show how generous she is. The thing is, those suits cost three months of my salary. When Marissa approaches me, she doesn't recognize me in the mascot suit. Instead, she starts jeering at me. "To think that a grown man is still dressed up as a mascot in a mall just to earn money! What a pathetic loser!" She doesn't know that I've given up on my inheritance of hundreds of millions of dollars' worth of assets. As I watch Marissa leave while tittering, I suddenly realize that the marriage that I've been maintaining for so many years is hollow all along.

After I discovered that my Mafia husband, Don Dante Amato, still couldn't let go of his first love, Bianca, and the son she had with another man, I taught our son to call him "Don Amato." When our son came down with a fever, Bianca called my husband away in the middle of the night. I stroked his burning forehead and taught him to say, "Goodbye, Don Amato." Dante had promised to present our son to the whole Amato Family at a family dinner — to formally announce him as the future heir. Yet on the night of the dinner, Bianca called, crying that her own son had no father by his side. Dante left without a second thought. I didn't argue. I just had our son stand in front of the entire Family and explain, "Don Amato has someone more important to take care of." It wasn't until Dante finally realized how disappointed we were in him that he suggested we take a family portrait together. Outside the photo studio, Bianca called again, crying for Dante's help. "Dante, the kids at daycare are making fun of Gabe for not having a dad. Can you come pick him up and pretend to be his father?" Dante looked conflicted. He turned to our son, as if about to explain everything. But this time, our son didn't need my reminder. He waved Dante off. "It's okay, Don Amato. Go take care of the other child. Mom and I will manage the family photo just fine."

During my second year of marriage to Vincent DeLuca, Don of the DeLuca family, I was kidnapped. By the time I escaped, I was four months pregnant. The first person to find me was Luca Moretti, the childhood friend I'd loved for ten years, the one who had refused to marry me. When Vincent saw my pregnant belly beneath Luca's coat, he had his men drag me to a hospital and forced the doctors to end my pregnancy. That night, I heard Luca confront him. "You know Victoria never betrayed you! How could you kill your own child?!" Vincent laughed, and there was nothing warm in it. "I only married her so Sophia could marry you without a hitch. You two are about to get engaged, and I'm not letting this baby become the talk of New York. The man Sophia marries can't have a scandal hanging over him!" The blood in my veins went cold. Back when Luca turned me down, Vincent stepped in and claimed he'd fallen for me at first sight. It had all been for Sophia! And now he'd killed his own child for her, too! I wiped away my tears. That same night, I answered an email from Professor Diane Walker that had been sitting in my inbox for two years. "Professor Walker, I'd like to join your sculpture studio." I was going to leave New York and leave Vincent, and I was never coming back.

My mother and I were getting the estate ready for Thanksgiving dinner when word came that my father and my fiancé, Adrian Marchetti, had died in an explosion at the docks. In an instant, our family feast became our last meal. A bodyguard burst into the house, covered in blood. "The Don and Mr. Marchetti were ambushed by the Ferraro family at the docks. The arms warehouse blew up... there's nothing left of them. They took Matteo Valenti alive!" My blood ran cold. Adrian had told me the Ferraro boss was ruthless. The last time he'd gone after a family, he'd had the men slaughtered and their organs sold, and every woman shipped off to an underground bar and forced into prostitution! The bodyguard pressed a pistol into my hand. "Ms. Valenti, I risked my life to warn you. There are too many of them, and I can't stay. Change your name and leave L.A.!" Without a word, my mother sent Grandma, my sister-in-law Lana, my six-year-old niece Annie, and my aunt Clara down to the basement. Then she took the gun from my hand, pressed it to her temple, and pulled the trigger. Her warm blood splattered across my face. In a single night, my father, my mother, my brother, and the man I loved were all gone! The pain tore me apart. I ran my fingers over my mother's gun. The muzzle still smelled of gunpowder. A second later, the gun went off on its own. A bullet tore through my chest, and my blood soaked the rose brooch Adrian had given me. As tears streamed down my bloodstained face, I heard one of my father's men laughing on the other side of the door. "Wow. The Don and Mr. Marchetti will do anything for Ms. Celeste. She wanted a little holiday prank, and they went all out for her." Grief ripped through me, and I coughed up a mouthful of blood.

Our family road trip ended in a cliffside plunge. The Moon Goddess told us that to survive, we must enter the werewolf world and conquer the cruelest Alpha in existence. Only by obtaining the Alpha’s "Token of the Blood Oath" could our family be reborn. My cousin Chloe, brimming with confidence, chose the identity of the "Savior." She attempted to replicate the "White Moonlight"—the lost love—from the Alpha's memories. Meanwhile, the "Spectators" from this world were blowing up the chat stream: "This family is interesting. Much smarter than the last batch." "As long as one of them gets the Token, they all resurrect. I’m betting on the blonde hottie." "For sure. The way that Alpha looks at her? His favorability is already maxed out." Just when we thought victory was in the bag, the next day brought devastating news. The first batch of family members who entered the instance were wiped out. And Cousin Chloe died the most gruesome death of them all. The tone of the chat instantly shifted to mockery and ridicule: "LMAO. Did they really think this was some fluffy romance novel? That’s the Rogue King who crawled out of a pile of corpses." "Forget his 'White Moonlight.' He wouldn't hesitate to kill his own Fated Mate."

My boyfriend Ethan Carter always had an excuse for Ava Taylor, his childhood sweetheart. She'd lost her parents when she was young, so according to him, I should cut her some slack. If she called in the middle of a date, he'd leave without a second thought and abandon me at the table. When he got his first paycheck, he spent every penny on a gift for her. He didn't even think of getting me anything. When a hurricane hit, he rushed to Ava's side and stayed with her for days. He didn't remember I existed until the danger was over. That was my breaking point. I told him to choose: her or me. He didn't take me seriously. He just laughed and leaned in to kiss me. "Jealous, baby? There's nothing between me and Ava. I only help her because I feel bad for her. You've always had everything. Can't you be a little more understanding? I promise it won't happen again! You're the only one I love!" We'd been together for five years, from college right up to our wedding. In the end, I gave him one more chance. A week later, I showed up for our wedding and found Ava standing at the altar in my wedding dress. "Baby, Ava has dreamed about having the perfect wedding ever since she was a kid. Just let her have this one."

Damon Blackwood nearly died for me once. So when he asked me to wait while another woman carried his child, I did. I told myself it was not betrayal. It was duty. I told myself a man who had given up everything for me could not possibly be choosing someone else. For me, Damon gave up his claim to the Alpha title. He endured ninety-nine lashes from the Pack elders, then knelt for three days in the ancestral shrine with his back torn open and his shirt soaked through with blood. When they finally carried him out, he could barely breathe. So when his father said the Bloodmoon Pack needed a pureblood heir before they would allow us to be together, I tried to believe him. Damon told me Victoria Hale was only a duty. He told me one child would be enough. Then Victoria gave birth to a daughter, and the promise changed. One heir became one son. One sacrifice became another year of waiting. Until Victoria’s daughter suddenly fell ill, and everyone said I had poisoned her. Alpha Conrad and Luna Catherine threw me into the dungeon before I could even defend myself. Damon stood outside the iron door. Not angry at them. Not worried about me. He looked at me like I was something he no longer recognized. “I told you to wait,” he said. “Why did you have to touch my child?” My child. Once, Damon had sworn he would only accept a child born from my body. Now he held Victoria’s daughter in his arms and called her his. When the dungeon door finally opened, I did not run to him. I chose the future I had abandoned for him.

After three years in a psychiatric hospital, I finally escape. Three years ago, I watched my fiance, Ethan Cregger, die in a car accident right in front of me. Already born with a heart condition, I spiraled under the weight of grief. Then everything else fell apart. My family lost everything. Dad seemed to age overnight. Mom cried until there were no tears left. Adrian Mercer, my childhood friend, gave up the money he'd saved to study abroad just to pay for my treatment. Even my younger sister, Mia Bennett, worked three jobs and begged me through tears not to give up on life. Not wanting to burden them any further, I voluntarily admitted myself to a psychiatric hospital. Three years later, I finally make my way back to our old family estate, now supposedly sold, for one reason. I want the bottle of wine Ethan and I buried together years ago. But through the floor-to-ceiling windows, I see a dead man—Ethan. He is alive and well, with his arm wrapped around my sister. My parents look happier and healthier than ever. Adrian is placing a birthday hat on the young boy standing between them. Everyone claps and sings, gathered around the cake like one big, happy family. And suddenly, I understand. Ethan never died. He simply built a new life with my sister. While I spent three years trapped in the past, everyone I love moved on without me. They created an entire lie just for me. Fine. If they've already decided there's no place for me in their lives, then I don't want them anymore.

On the second day of Alpha Andy’s patrol with his junior assistant Scarlett, I wrapped up all handovers and applied to the High Elder for Pack Withdrawal. Ten minutes later, my phone pinged — Andy approved. “Looks like she’s leaving.” “Think Alpha Andy wanted her gone?” “Not sure. He treated her well; she quit on her own.” “She’s always overreacting. Maybe she’s a spy from another pack?” “A foreign future Luna is trouble. Good riddance, from the job and the pack.” “Right. She only had that position because of Andy. Alone, she wouldn’t survive.” “Why bother? She’s his fated mate. He must’ve given her gold.” “Who knows?” While I packed, pack-mates made snide comments, enjoying my embarrassment. Laugh all you want. We won’t be packmates soon. I’m used to this. I’m Lynda Roskruhe, from another pack. Our grandfathers were wartime allies, and Andy and I fell in love. He brought me here to help run pack affairs. We were happy until Scarlett became his assistant. We clashed from the start. Shockingly, my fiancé Andy and most wolves always sided with her, claiming she was young and needed my guidance. The pack never welcomed an outsider as their Luna. Andy once defended me, but now they target me to please Scarlett. I sneered. “Bad news. I’m joining the Nightfall Pack. No overlapping hunting lands, and their Sacred Spring is far better.” “What? You’re leaving Alpha Andy, not just the post?” Ignoring their stunned faces, I slung my bag and walked out of the pack gate. I wouldn’t return home yet — I didn’t want my parents sad. As I crossed the boundary, Andy called. I was ready to explain, but his cold voice came first: “I sent the hunting territory draft. Revise it and send it back in an hour.” He had no idea I’d already left.

On our wedding day, my fiancée humiliated me in front of everyone. She postponed the ceremony, not for an emergency, but to throw a lavish wedding for her childhood friend's pet hamster. Dressed in my tailored suit, I got shoved off the stage and was laughed at by everyone. My mom couldn't take the humiliation. Her heart gave out, and no ambulance could save her. Days after we buried her, my fiancée reappeared, demanding that I donate a kidney to that friend. The surgery nearly killed me, leaving me broken and betrayed. It prompted me to end things with her. She spiraled into regret, tormenting herself to win me back.