เรื่องสั้นแนว Tragic Love และนิยาย Hypocrisy Face Slapping

My boyfriend belonged to the untouchables among the capital's elite, with a family fortune worth tens of billions. To "test" me, he spent seven years never buying me a single gift, never spending a cent on me. Even a stop at a convenience store for condoms had to be split down the middle. Then, my mother fell critically ill. I borrowed from every friend and relative I could, but I was still two thousand short to cover the surgery fees. No matter how much I pleaded, he refused to lend me the money. I arranged my mother's funeral on my own. When I went back to pack my belongings, I accidentally found a list of gifts he had bought for the young woman next door. A private luxury estate. Designer handbags. Jewelry worth hundreds of millions. There was also a voice chat with his friend. "Caleb, is it true Jessica actually humbled herself and begged you for two thousand?" Caleb Brooks let out a low, amused laugh, his tone lazy and indifferent. "Nevaeh wasn't wrong. Anyone who goes around begging over two thousand — what else is she if not a gold digger? "We've only been together seven years and she's already trying to get money out of me." So that was the truth. Seven years of so-called testing, it seemed, had been sparked by nothing more than a few manipulative words from a young woman next door. However, it no longer mattered. The moment my mother passed away, I had already decided to leave him.

My pack was slaughtered. But my fated mate Ethan turned his back on me, choosing another she-wolf, Lyra. In my darkest hour, his brother, Alpha Caden, claimed me. He promised me safety. Vengeance. A home. For three years, I was his Luna. I thought I was safe. Then I learned the truth. "You've hidden the evidence for three years, Alpha. You know Lyra was behind the Dawn Moon slaughter. What happens when your Luna finds out?" Caden’s reply shattered my world. "I have to protect Lyra. Even though she chose my brother, I need her to be happy. As for Selena, making her my Luna is compensation enough." My legs went weak. I almost collapsed, sobbing. The monster who killed my family was right beside me all along. And the mate I loved so deeply? Our bond was a lie, built only to shield her. So I performed the Farewell Ritual, a ceremony to erase myself from the world. Only when he was about to lose me forever did Caden finally see the truth. Shattered by regret, he hunted down the real killer, begging for a forgiveness he would never earn.

At Greg Jenson’s birthday party, an obituary suddenly created a huge ruckus in our school year’s group chat. “Oh my God, Luanne Lee is dead” “It’s got to be fake news. A bad thing never dies. How could a malicious woman like her die so easily? Back then, she literally took Greg...” Sitting at the head of the table, Greg twirled his phone in his hand, his eyes dark. “It's fake. I just got a call from her this morning. She said she was coming to my birthday party.” However, someone hesitantly held up their phone, showing the screen to the room. “If I'm not mistaken, this person really is Luanne. The memorial service is at the funeral home in the neighboring city. Should we go check it out?” On the screen was a photo of a funeral hall, and there I was, lying peacefully right in the center. Greg’s expression turned to panic. He bolted upright and headed straight for the exit, but the moment he opened the door, he froze dead in his tracks. The deceased ‘me’ was standing right at the doorway. Looking into those deeply familiar eyes, I smiled and said, “Greg, it’s been ten years. I'm here to wish you a happy birthday.”

My girlfriend and I had agreed to marry as soon as we graduated. But after I waited three hours at the registration hall, she registered with my stepbrother instead. He had been in love with her for ten years, and now he was being sent to the deadliest front in space. “He won't survive without me,” she said. “Once he's gone, I'll still be yours.” My father and stepmother told me to be the bigger person. As I looked at their self-righteous faces, I accepted a command at the same front and became my stepbrother's highest-ranking superior. By the time news of my victories—and my wedding—reached home, every one of them had lost their minds with regret.

To save Zander Lewis, I lost the ability to walk. As a result, my dream of dancing was shattered forever. Yet, Zander went on to marry Jenna Walsh—the same woman who stole my spot in the dance program. The betrayal cut so deep that I suffered from severe depression. That was when Jenna's uncle in name, Sean Walsh, appeared and pulled me out of the darkness. He stayed by my side for a long time, helping me heal and even working tirelessly to treat my legs.   Just when I thought I could stand on my own again, I discovered the awful truth—it had all been part of his and Zander's plan. They never wanted me to reclaim my place; they wanted to ensure Jenna's glory remained untouched. They were even planning to use the same ruthless methods to make sure I could never walk again. My heart shattered as I watched them, two despicable men plotting everything for Jenna's sake. At that moment, I gave up on love completely. I did not scream or cry. I simply played along, letting them believe I was still trapped in their game. When I finally broke free from that deceitful marriage, he came after me, begging in tears for another chance. 

Vivian was wheeled out of the delivery room for the third time after a massive hemorrhage. The baby was stillborn. The doctor told her that her womb had been damaged by too many pregnancies. She would never carry another child. Numb and hollowed out, Vivian dragged herself toward the morgue to see her baby one last time, and that was when she saw her husband Ethan standing in the corridor, talking quietly to one of his men. "Don, your wife's baby was a perfect marrow match again. One more extraction and Claire's son will be cured." Vivian froze mid-step, every nerve in her body going still. Then came Ethan's voice, light and almost amused, and it shattered something she didn't know was still whole. His man hesitated, something pained moving across his face,"If Claire's boy pulls through, then losing those three kids was worth it." "Don, if the Donna ever finds out what really happened to those babies…" A cold shudder ran through Vivian, and her eyes locked on Ethan. But the curve of his mouth turned sharp, almost cruel. "She won't. I'll make it up to her, get her pregnant again with a healthy one this time. She'll be too busy with the baby to go digging." "And if she does find out, then what?" "Her mother gave her life for mine. That debt has chained me to her for ten years, and I can barely breathe under it. But now there's someone I actually want to protect. She has no right to stand in the way." Something softened in Ethan's face then, something Vivian had never seen turned toward her. "Claire was my brother's wife, and I'll never forget that he died protecting this family. So protecting his widow and his blood are our family’s and my duty." "She's the only person who's ever made me feel like a husband. Like a father." "I have to take care of her."

Just because I accidentally broke my adopted sister’s bracelet, my brother threw me into the black market to “learn my lesson.” By the time I was rescued, I had been tortured so brutally that I was barely recognizable. It was Elijah York who risked his own life to pull me out of that hellhole. When we finally escaped, his blood had soaked my clothes, yet he held me tightly against his chest and whispered that he would never regret it. For three years after that, I drifted between moments of clarity and bouts of pure madness. I despised myself, constantly feeling dirty and broken, but Elijah always treated me like a princess. Until this day, my mind was, for once, clear. Caressing the tiny new life I had just discovered growing inside my womb, I was overflowing with joy as I hurried to surprise him. However, right outside his office door, I overheard a conversation between him and my brother. “Did you actually catch feelings after playing a part for so long? Don’t forget that in three months, it will be the optimal window for Chloe’s bone marrow transplant.” Elijah let out a low, amused scoff, his tone indifferent. “I’ve been drugging Nora for three years. Everyone thinks she’s completely lost her mind by now. Legally, she is my wife, and I hold full guardianship over her. That’s the only way the bone marrow extraction process remains completely legal and compliant.” I froze right where I stood, the blood freezing in my veins.

The first time Silvia Robinson undergoes ECT, she is all alone. Even Gregory Fisher, her fiance who loves her so much, is nowhere to be seen. After the doctor gives her a muscle relaxant, she starts to get drowsy. She is in a daze when she recalls what happened that evening. She has waited three hours in line for a special cake, which she is planning to surprise Gregory with. However, she comes home to see Gregory kissing her younger sister, Ella Robinson. The two are deep in a kiss as they hold each other tightly in an inseparable embrace. The cake in Silvia's hands drops to the floor, smashed beyond recognition as Silvia delivers a slap across Gregory's face. Then, she finds herself being pushed down the stairs by Ella. As she rolls down the stairs, Silvia feels like she has already seen this coming. Anyone close to her will eventually be taken away by her sister.

I am the woman of a mafia boss, Arthur Borne. Ever since we got married, he doted on me endlessly, professing his love for me publicly. The entire time, I believed he loved me deeply and simply could not help but flaunt his love for me to the world. Until one night, I overheard a conversation he had with his men. "I have dealings in both business and the underworld. Enemies are lurking everywhere. The only way to protect Ely is to make Juniper appear as my weakness so she can be Ely’s shield." This entire time, all the pain I suffered for him was nothing but a sick joke… Fine, two can play at this game!

When a massive hurricane headed toward our city, officials declared the entire area a high-risk zone and ordered everyone to evacuate. But my fiancée, Mabel Payne, refused to leave. Her adopted younger brother, Jason Payne, suffered from severe trauma, and he wouldn't budge. On the first day, Jason took a high-powered slingshot and shattered the expensive hurricane-resistant windows I had installed. On the second day, he flushed our entire supply of emergency medications down the toilet. On the third day, he opened the front door and let a pack of stray cats and dogs tear through all the emergency food I had spent so long stocking up on. With nearly everything we needed to survive the hurricane destroyed, I suggested hiring a professional evacuation team to get Jason and the rest of us to safety before the storm hit. Instead, Mabel flew into a rage. "Jason has PTSD! Taking him somewhere unfamiliar could trigger another episode! Are you trying to get him killed?" But when the hurricane finally hit, Mabel shoved me right out of the rescue helicopter, breaking my leg. "This is all your fault! You're taking up the space Jason needs for his things! You know he can't function without them! What if his condition gets worse? Just wait for the next rescue helicopter!" What she didn't know was that there wasn't going to be another helicopter. And without me, this one wasn't going anywhere.

Three years after my husband, George Martins, cheated and begged to come home, I cheated too. He rushed home to find me lying on our marital bed. My skin was covered in fresh love bite marks and dark bruises. "George, no wonder you cheated on me so many times. "I get it now. It feels amazing." George's eyes snapped wide. His gaze turned bloodshot. He grabbed my throat and slammed me into the mattress. "Clara, do you really hate me this much? "I came home! I became the perfect husband! What more do you want from me?" He wasn't lying. For three years, he did everything to make me feel safe. He handed over his phone every night. He video-called me every five minutes whenever he left the house. He knew his infidelity made my skin crawl. Every time he wanted intimacy, he scrubbed his body three times and disinfected himself five times. My fingertips trembled. I stared straight into his eyes. "Your body came back, but what about your mind? "Every time you get drunk, you scream Maya's name! Every dress you buy me is a white gown she would wear! “You bring home her favorite roses on our anniversary! Even the anniversary ring you bought me was fitted to her finger! "You cut physical ties with her, but you're forcing me to turn into her!" George's hand shook against my neck. He forced a twisted smirk. "Clara, you have no right to lecture me now. I cheated, sure. But are you any better?" "We’re both trash. We deserve each other." His shameless words turned my three years of silent agony into a complete joke. Exhaustion settled heavy in my chest. I didn't want this marriage anymore.

I'm a major suspect in the in-law murder case in Nexford. My husband, Roland Turner, also known as the police chief, personally arrests me. During my trial, the murderer commits yet another murder. The latest victims are killed once again using the same brutal method. Roland kneels on the floor while begging me to tell him the truth. I answer him that I have no idea what it is. At the same time, the victims' families keep screaming at me, wanting to skin me alive for my crimes. Three months later, Roland brings a Memory Decryptor with him. He finds me near a pile of trash. With trembling hands, he pierces two thin needles through my temples. "I'm so sorry, Wendy. I know you're not the murderer, but I just want this slaughterfest to end. I don't want to see anyone else die again. "We can also use this chance to show your memories to everyone. That way, we can find out what the actual truth is." But once he views my memories, he suffers from an emotional breakdown and sinks to his knees.

Before my wedding, I was diagnosed with a progressive autobiographical memory disorder. The neurologist said I'd gradually forget everyone, including myself. When I got back to the Winslow estate, my parents had moved the entire wedding fund meant for me into the room of their adopted daughter, Marissa. "Elise, you're the older sister. You need to give way to Marissa. Stop bullying her and making us dread the sight of you." I lowered my head and agreed, then cried in my room all night. The next morning, I couldn't remember why my pillow was wet. That afternoon, I saw my fiance, Graham Ellsworth. He was wiping tears off Marissa's face and looking at me with disgust. "Elise, I was only being affectionate with Marissa. Was that enough for you to threaten to end our engagement? You're unbelievably petty." His words made me cry. But at dinner the next day, when Graham spoke to me with the same cold contempt, I stared at him in confusion. "Sir, who are you?" I was forgetting faster. Then, one evening, Graham offered to take me for a drive outside the city. He stopped on an isolated county road. "The tire's caught against something. Get out and see whether a rock is blocking it." I did as he said and stepped out of the car. Graham drove off and called through the open window, "Since you can't stop tormenting Marissa, stay here and think about it." The car disappeared. I stood beside the road with nothing in my head. I wanted to go home, but I didn't remember where home was, or what my parents were called. By the time the Winslows panicked and Graham had searched every road beyond Stonewick, they finally understood. I really had disappeared.

I was working as a stunt double for a fight scene when a rising idol actor stabbed me with a real knife and sent me straight to the hospital. My actress girlfriend rushed over in a panic, fussing over me with endless concern. Before I could even feel touched, a floating comment suddenly appeared above her head. [When is Scott finally going to realize that the Best Actress linked him and Francis through a Beauty System?] [The more Scott cares about a certain part of his body, the more perfect that same part becomes on Francis!] The next second, my manager of five years hurried into the room as well. Another barrage of comments floated up. [The manager's no better. She tied them to an Achievement System. The harder Scott works, the more achievements Francis gets!] I stared at the two women in front of me and fell silent. So… my only option was to give up and do nothing?

Even after more than three years of marriage, Samuel Ferguson still seemed impossible to satisfy. After the third round, he brushed a tear from the corner of Tania Russell's eye, a roguish smile playing at his lips. "Did you cry from the pleasure? Want me to carry you to the shower?" Tania turned her head, avoiding him, her fingers digging into the sheets until her knuckles went white. Steam rolled through the bathroom, wrapping a set of broad shoulders and a narrow waist in a haze of heat — but that heat could not thaw the icy chill in her heart. An hour ago, in the throes of passion, the name "Lulu" had slipped from his lips, and it still lingered in her mind. All those years, he had always called her simply "Tania." After a moment, she wiped her tears, reached for the phone on the bedside table, and stepped out onto the balcony. "Elias, investigate Samuel for me. I think… he's cheating." "A lead?" Elias did not waste time. "He used to call her 'Lulu'".

On the 999th day of our relationship, Declan Fletcher took a photo of the half-empty cup of my coffee and posted it in the group chat, deducting 20 points from my score. There were only three people in the chat group—me, him, and my cousin Rachel Black. He circled the 28-dollar bill, his tone sounding like he was judging a thief who stole money. Declan: [Sonia Golding, I've said before, splitting the bills 50-50 doesn't mean you get to take advantage of me. If you really want to marry a regular guy, you'd better stop spending money like a gold digger. Declan was my boyfriend for three years. He was also the poor kid I thought was struggling with family debt, a seriously ill mother, and who could not even afford a new shirt. That was why I paid half of the rent, half of the water and electricity bills, and even secretly covered half of the caretaker fee for his mother's hospitalization. He set up a relationship point system for me. One minute late: -5 points. Ordering an expensive dish: -10 points. Expecting a gift on a holiday: -30 points. I spent three years racking up points just to go from 'not marriage material' to 'worth considering'. However, he never once counted the cost when it came to Rachel. If Rachel wanted expensive food, he would treat her. If she wanted to visit an island for Independence Day, he would book two first-class tickets that very night. It was not until today that his driver accidentally delivered a prenuptial agreement to me instead of him that I realized Declan was not penniless. He owned three properties and two companies. The handbags he bought for Rachel cost enough to cover my rent for three years. It turned out that splitting the bill 50-50 was not his principle but a calculated move to filter out the women who genuinely cared. That evening, he transferred 28 dollars to me for drinks. The remark read: [Cover any unnecessary expenses yourself.] I accepted the money and sent him a breakup bill in return. Sonia: [I've lost out over these past three years. I'm done with you.]

My husband, Harry Forger, who couldn’t have kids, got a college girl pregnant. He was thrilled and planned to keep it a secret until the baby was born, but I caught him red-handed at the hospital. I completely lost it and demanded to know how he could betray me after all I had done to land 10-billion-dollar deals for him. He just handed me divorce papers and said coldly, “You can’t give me a child, but Claire is already pregnant and needs someone to take care of her. I’m going to marry her and give her a real family. “Sign the papers. If we end things peacefully, you can still have a spot in the company.” I refused, and that’s when his revenge started. He had me thrown in prison and froze all my assets. In the end, he even tied my parents, who both had heart problems, to a drop tower ride. “Sign the divorce papers, and I’ll let them go. If you don’t sign, then watch them die up there.”

On New Year's Eve, I prepare a feast. The clock strikes twelve, but my husband, Vincent Porter, still isn't home. My daughter, Lorelei Porter, tugs at my sleeve and holds up my phone. "Look Mommy, Daddy is at this lady's house!" Vincent has posted an update on Twitter. He is with Christine Snow, his childhood sweetheart. They are smiling at the camera, with a boy who looks about ten standing between them. In front of them sits a swan-shaped cake. The caption reads, "The most special day for the most special you." My heart sinks into my stomach. A marriage that came later in life can never compete with a pair of childhood sweethearts. I accept defeat.

Caleb Smith's best friend, Kevin Baker, calls me in a panic and tells me that Caleb has been in a terrible racing accident. Without a second thought, I rush to the hospital and donate two pints of blood to save him. As I walk past a hospital room, I freeze. There's Caleb—standing perfectly healthy beside a hospital bed. Kevin throws his head back and howls with laughter. "It's April Fools' Day. We actually managed to trick Winnie Jewel into donating two pints of blood. Too bad that it's useless, though. We might as well feed it to the stray dogs." Vivian Jewel, lying in a hospital bed, looks up at Caleb. "Caleb, don't you think that's a bit much?" A fond smile curves Caleb's lips as he replies, "I can't help it. Where does Winnie get the nerve to take your place? She should have stayed in the orphanage, but since she forced her way back into the Jewel family, she can't blame us for taking your side." Kevin jumps in eagerly. "This year marks the eighth year since she returned to the Jewel family, and the eighth year we've been pranking her." Their undisguised mockery spills out of the room. I pull out my phone and contact my aunt, Gianna Jewel. "Aunt Gianna, I’ve decided. Let's leave the country."

After the IVF procedure worked, I finally got pregnant and flew back from overseas, hoping to surprise my husband, Rob Balmer, with the news I'd been waiting so long for. A friend tipped me off that while I'd been abroad, Rob had taken on a new personal assistant — the clingy, temperamental type who always had to have her way. At first, I didn't think much of it. In the old days, all I had to do was frown, and Rob would have anyone who got on my nerves shown the door. But when I got home, I found out the code to the front gate had been changed. I tried our wedding anniversary date again — and that's when the door swung open. Some woman was leaning against the doorway in my silk pajamas, all drama and attitude, her brows arched like she owned the place. "Look what the cat dragged in — some beggar showing up at the Balmer estate! Scram! Or I'll set the dogs on you!" I was so furious I almost laughed. "Go get Rob. I want to ask him just what kind of stray he's been letting into this house." And I had one more question: Did he still want the heir — the Balmer family's only shot at continuing nine generations of single sons— the one I was carrying right now?