Melodramatic Short Stories & Hypocrisy Crime Novels

I live alone. At eleven o'clock on a rainy night, an unexpected call came through. The voice on the other end said my car window was left open and urged me to go downstairs. Cautious as a woman should be, I didn't act rashly. Instead, I called the property security office, only to discover that even the security was fake. It hit me suddenly—I was ensnared in a vast conspiracy. Someone was orchestrating all of this. But for what purpose?

On my husband's birthday, I poured my heart into preparing a feast and selecting the perfect gift. Yet, he didn't come home. Instead, I received a picture message—a snapshot of him at the hospital, standing outside the OB-GYN ward, his hand resting tenderly on his childhood crush's belly. Beneath the photo, a message read: [The best birthday gift and a symbol of our decade-long bond.] Furious, I called her. "Don't you know he's married?" Before I could say more, my husband snatched the phone and lashed out at me. "Yvonne just wanted to share the joy of becoming a mother. Why are you overreacting? "Yvonne and I have been best friends for over a decade. Your petty jealousy is disgusting!" I once believed his busyness was for our future, but now I knew—he had been busy supporting the girl of his dreams through her pregnancy. Clutching my own stomach, I bit my lip to stop the tears from falling. Ten years of love had drained away. It was time to let go.

On the fifth year of our hidden marriage, I died on the operating table of a hospital belonging to Allen Jones. Before I died, I called him ninety-nine times, begging for help. The last time, he finally answered. His voice was heavy with impatience. "Enough already. First, it's pregnancy, now it's liver cancer. Can you stop making a scene? I'm exhausted from work. "Mia, when did you learn to lie? Do you know how disgusting you are right now? "I'm warning you—if you keep this up, I'll divorce you. Don't even think about coming back home until you admit you're wrong." But this time, I could never go back. Just before the call ended, I heard him comforting Sadie with a gentleness he had never shown me. "Don't be afraid. The surgery will be over soon, and you'll be fine. Once you're out, I'll take you to see your favorite movie and eat at your favorite restaurant. I promised you, and I'll make it all come true." After he hung up, I called him for the hundredth time. He didn't answer. Later, when Allen saw my body on the operating table, he broke down completely.

Brody Lewis, my fiance, said that I had a rare form of transient global amnesia, which was a sudden, temporary memory loss. Every seven days, I would open my eyes and become the twenty-five-year-old Riley Taylor again. My memories were forever stuck in the past. In my pen drive were videos of Brody taking me on trips, bringing me for treatment, and proposing to me. Everything seemed great between us, but I remembered none of it. “Riley’s still around. Can’t you keep your hands to yourself?” “Don’t worry. It’s Monday tomorrow. After she wakes up, she’ll remember none of it,” Brody said, and my heart sank. “Isn’t this more exciting?” Brody embraced my best friend, and they made out brazenly in front of me. They were not shy about it at all. I wondered just how many times this had happened over the past two years. I ran as tears blurred my vision. When I arrived at a tattoo shop, I grabbed the tattoo artist like a drowning man holding on to a log. Then, I asked the tattoo artist to tattoo these words on my arm in my handwriting. [Leave him.]

I discover Quilton Fuller's affair before our wedding, so I lie to him about having aborted our child. He hates me for that and gets engaged to a woman who looks just like me. On his wedding day, he video-calls me, wanting to show me his bride. However, he's greeted by the sight of me bloody and battered after being tormented by abductors. I beg him to at least save the baby in my womb, but he says to the abductors, "You'd better kill her and her child."

After Cynthia Musich causes a surgical accident, my husband of eight years, Xavier Goodwin, forces me to take the fall for her. "Being suspended won't have any effect on you, but Cynthia's just starting out! Leaving a mark on her record this early in her career will ruin her!" The accident victim's family cause a scene and stab me thrice in my pregnant belly. I call Xavier and beg him to save me, but he says coldly, "Cynthia was stabbed, and her life is at stake, so can you please stop making trouble? Just come out on your own." Later, when my dead body is brought to his department, Xavier loses his mind.

As my murderer's claws tear into my abdomen inch by inch, my father and brother are seated in our family's banquet hall. They're celebrating Carly's 18th birthday and coming-of-age. "You'll always be my little girl." "Happy birthday, Carly." They light 18 pink candles for her. On top of the exquisite red velvet cake is a wolf figurine that they carved for her, and there are well wishes and laughter all around. Meanwhile, I'm curled up in a sewer filled with liquid silver as I bleed to death. My phone has been crushed, and I can't get out. I can only cry for help. A few days later, my father and brother show up together at the autopsy room. My brother stands by the operating table with a scalpel. He slices open the body and sews it back up like it's nothing. My father just covers his nose as he shoots a disgusted glance at my body. He urges my brother to hurry up with the autopsy report. "The victim is a young female wolf presumed to be of pure lineage. Before her death, she was subjected to prolonged captivity and torture. Her throat is nearly severed, her cervical spine is dislocated, and her chest cavity has collapsed. She was also injected with liquid silver before death." Hearing the report, my father looks so calm that it's just like a case study of no consequence. Neither of them can recognize that the body belongs to me—their daughter and sister!

When I was trapped by large columns of fire alongside Reya, my firefighter husband appeared and chose to only rescue her. I got on my knees inside the sea of fire and begged him to save me, too. He jabbed a merciless kick at me. “You are evil through and through, Amaranth. Are you not going to give Reya a chance to live at least? I will never forgive you for starting this fire to kill her!” At this point, his forgiveness no longer mattered. After he rescued his former lover from the scene, I was burned to a crisp alongside the baby inside me.

My first time meeting Lawrence Seinfield was during my return to a noble family as its heiress. He helped me get out of a sticky situation once, and for that, I spent five years trying to steal his heart. I loved him. Eventually, he became my fiance, but he thought I was beneath him. He thought my lack of education and proper upbringing was bad. My grandfather, the one who raised me, was dying. Just when I needed his help the most, he decided to teach me a lesson and show me my place. Without any help, my grandfather died, and like Lawrence wished, I knew my place. And I lost my love for him.

As the youngest daughter of the powerful mafia family, the Blythes, I was spoiled the moment I was born. I had three older brothers who adored me. When I turned eighteen, our father was killed in a turf fight. The shock sent our mother into a rapid decline, and she passed away less than a week later. To avenge our father, my three brothers waged war against our enemies for three days. Though they emerged victorious, all three were critically wounded. My eldest brother, Damon Blythe, suffered a ruptured liver and was on the brink of death. Matt Blythe, my second brother, had severe kidney damage. Chris Blythe had lost too much blood and went into heart failure. I spent a fortune hiring the world’s top surgeons. They transplanted half of my liver to Damon, a kidney to Matt, and even gave my heart to Chris, replacing mine with a mechanical one. Thanks to the doctors’ skill, all three survived and went on to take over the Blythes’ empire. Five years later, they became infatuated with Sophia Foster, a poor but strong-willed intern. They even forced me to give up my last kidney to her. It was only after I had died on the operating table that they regretted what they had done.

I was a top ER nurse at the city hospital. Over the years, I helped save thousands of lives. During my day off, I received an urgent call from my department chief. “Zayn, there’s a child at a daycare near your neighborhood suffering from a severe allergic reaction. The ambulance is stuck in traffic. Please get over there immediately and administer first aid.” I grabbed my emergency kit and rushed to the daycare. When I arrived, one of the teachers falsely accused me of being a child trafficker. He shoved me aside and shouted, “He’s a trafficker. Do not let him touch the child.” Furious and desperate, I pulled up my digital nursing license. “I am an ER nurse. If you keep stopping me, this child could die.” He insisted my credentials were fake, and I had no choice but to wait for the ambulance. When the ambulance finally arrived to take the child to the hospital, the teacher jumped in again. He claimed we were working together and refused to let us leave. Everything changed when the child’s mother arrived with a DNA test report in her hand. His entire world collapsed in an instant.