Tragic Love Short Stories & Independence Face Slapping Novels

The day the company opened up a vice president position, I was thrilled. I was sure the promotion was mine. Instead, the secretary called me into her office. "Ms. Carter, you took kickbacks from clients, falsified invoices, and carried on with clients. With conduct that disgraceful, the company cannot promote you to vice president." I couldn't understand a word of it, because I had done none of those things. I went home to ask my mate what on earth was going on, only for my mother, Diane Carter, to slap me to the floor. "How could you do something so disgraceful? I'm your mother, but even I can't cover for you anymore!" I was banished from the pack and had to scrape by on odd jobs outside it, but even strangers pointed and whispered, spreading rumors about me. When I learned that my mate, Allen Blackwood, planned to hold a ceremony to sever our mate bond, I returned to the pack. But before I even reached the door, I overheard Allen talking with his friend. "Allen, severing a mate bond is agony, and the bond between you two will be gone for good. Aren't you afraid she'll end up with someone else?" Allen let out a contemptuous laugh. "Jenny's own mother signed off on this. She's an Omega without even a wolf. Without me, what pack would ever take her in?" "Olivia needs this position more than she does. Once Olivia is settled into the role, I'll bring Jenny back. She'll be just as devoted to me as ever." I leaned against the doorframe, slowly closed my eyes, and let the tears fall. A vow? Fine. I agree. Once the mate bond is severed, we are nothing to each other.

As an exploration geologist, I'm caught in a landslide during a mission, and one of my arms is crushed. Before we set out, our exploration team has accurately predicted the weather. There's no chance of heavy rain that day. It isn't until I overhear my wife, Diana Nelson, talking to a doctor friend that I learn the truth. "Diana, you knew Adam was going out on a mission that day, yet you spent a fortune on creating cloud seeding just to get him injured and eventually cost him an arm. You really went too far for Flynn." Diana frowns. "Who told him to care so much about that exploration project? The only way the project can go to Flynn is if Adam gets disabled. "Otherwise, Flynn will be sent to Nambara. You think I can bear to let him suffer in a place like that?" What she doesn't know is that the Nambaran assignment will go to either Flynn Cooper or me. Before leaving, I put my medical report, which states that I've lost my reproductive ability, into a box. The day Flynn makes a name for himself, the box will be delivered to Diana as a gift.

My little sister was murdered by her kidnappers. I watched it all happen and never said a word about who did it. My mother got on her knees and begged me. I didn't flinch. When my father threatened me with his authority as the Don, I walked away from my place as the Family heir. I moved to a small town down south. Eight years later, I was dying of a terminal illness, and my older sister, Beth Turner, had taken over the Family. Under her, the Turners had become the most powerful mafia family on the East Coast. The first thing she did when she found me was have me dragged back to the Family's tribunal. "Selena Turner, you ungrateful snake. Mia called you her sister for all those years, and you still won't name the kidnapper. "Mia's been dead for years. Don't you feel any guilt at all?!" I was on my knees in the great hall. I couldn't speak. "After all these years, I can finally extract your memories. Today, I'm going to see exactly who you've been protecting. I will avenge Mia." She ordered her men to restrain me and hook up the extractor. On the screen above the banquet hall, a face suddenly appeared. The room erupted into chaos, and Beth's face went deathly pale.

On the morning of the wedding, the bridesmaids decided to play a quick trivia game with Grayson Cross before our first look. He had to get three questions right before he could see me. I thought he would get them all easily. To my surprise, he got the very first one wrong. “What shoe size does the bride wear?” Without hesitation, he answered, “Size 6.” “What’s the bride’s favorite color?” “Blue.” Everyone exchanged glances, and the atmosphere grew awkward. So they asked him an absurdly easy question. “What year did the bride graduate from college?” Everyone thought there was no way he could get that one wrong. After all, we had been classmates in college. “2013. The year she graduated, I gave her a pair of crystal shoes I made myself. There's no way I could be wrong.” That was the moment I panicked. My eyes slowly drifted toward my best friend, Iris Shea, who stood there in a blue bridesmaid dress and crystal heels. She bit her lip and quietly reminded Grayson, “It was 2012. I’m the one who graduated late.” And suddenly, I understood. The last bit of hesitation in my heart disappeared. I gave a faint smile, lowered my head, and sent a message to my parents. “Mom, Dad, please bring the car around. I’m changing into sneakers. I’m not marrying him.”

Every single time I get intimate with my boyfriend, Lyle Holloway, I notice he always changes the bedsheets afterward. After a frenzied release, I can't help but ask him about it. Lyle gently twirls a strand of my hair around his finger and smiles tenderly. "Of course it's because your best friend sweats buckets. Every time before I do it with you, she gets jealous and insists on going first. Ever since I met her, I've realized that women really are made of water." His response catches me off guard, and I stare at him in utter disbelief. "What did you just say?" He stubs out his cigarette, a half-smile playing on his lips. "Grace, your mom was tortured to death in bed by your dad, not by me. So, every time you lie in bed like a corpse, it really kills the mood. That's your trauma, not mine, and you shouldn't expect me to pay the price for it, got it? "In fact, you should thank your best friend. She's helping you maintain our relationship!" My best friend, Pamela Sinclair, rushes in with tears in her eyes and immediately slaps Lyle across the face. "Apologize to Grace right now, you bastard!" I gaze at the two of them, but all I can taste in my throat is bitterness. Turns out, all these years, I've been nothing more than a burdensome killjoy in Lyle's eyes. I'm done squeezing into a bed that was never big enough for three of us…

When I was little, I nearly drowned. Later, I was poisoned with wolfsbane. Both left me timid to the bone, afraid of the dark, afraid of water, afraid of being alone. One time I fell into freezing water. Just when I thought I was going to die, Herman found me and pulled me out. He told me, "You scare easily. Don't do anything alone. If you need me, just call. I'll always come." So when my claustrophobia got worse, I called him. He said, "I've already found a therapist. Come to the pack and see me." When I arrived at the pack, he was playing video games with his best friend, Clara. Clara's eyes stayed on her phone. "See? She came here by herself," she mocked. "Scared out of her mind, and she calls herself a werewolf. How embarrassing." Herman patted her head. "Fine, you win. I'll take you to the haunted house tomorrow." I sank to the floor, too weak to stand, staring at them in disbelief. Herman kept staring at his phone. He didn't even glance at me. "If you're this much of a coward, you'll never survive in the real world. We're training you." I screamed, breaking down. "Do you have any idea I almost died just now!" Clara put down her phone, annoyed that she'd lost the game. "You're alive, aren't you? Stop screaming. Herman, just get the therapist." When Herman saw me crying, he walked out immediately. Clara followed him. I had barely caught my breath when the lights suddenly went out. The whole pack compound went dark. "Herman! Clara! Where are you? Why did the power go out?" I screamed their names, but no one answered. Then a text popped up on my phone. "Already scared, you little coward? Hang in there. This is training. It'll make you brave." Another text followed. "Stop relying on other people all the time. You need to learn to be independent." I was timid. I was weak. But I still had my dignity. If I was going to have to get used to being alone anyway, then the two of them could get out of my life for good.

On the day she miscarried because her mate chose his ex, Rae's wolf went completely dormant from the trauma. That killed every ounce of love she had left for him. She was done playing his pathetic doormat. No more running his family's empire. No more grilling him about staying out all night. He left her locked in a freezing pack holding cell for nine whole days. Why? To baby-sit his childhood sweetheart through a "full moon panic attack" in a luxury mansion. Rae didn't cry. She didn't scream. She didn't even bother making a phone call. Then came day ten. Colton finally rolled up in his custom black Cadillac. He looked down at her with those golden wolf eyes, calling her dramatic. Rae just pulled her designer coat tight around herself, smiled, and told him: She completely understood, and she would never make a scene again.

The night before the wedding, the groomsmen and bridesmaids were too excited to sleep, so someone suggested writing down what they wanted to say to me on a slip of paper anonymously. I closed my eyes in anticipation, thinking I would receive all kinds of blessings. But when I opened the first note, I froze. [You witch. If you hadn't forced my brother, Nora would be my sister-in-law by now!] Nora Harris… She was my best friend. She had called me three hours earlier with red eyes, apologizing, saying that she had to go on a business trip all of a sudden and could not attend my wedding. With trembling hands, I kept reading… [The wedding ring he bought you was the one Nora rejected. She said it was too cheap, so he gave it to you.] [You didn't know, did you? On the day your mother died, he was holding Nora in his arms and slept with her in your marital home.] [The reason Nora isn't coming to your wedding is that she gave birth to Shane's child and is still recovering.] When my eyes landed on the last note, I recognized the handwriting at once…

For five years, I believed my husband was a mechanic—until the day that belief shattered. On a luxury yacht, I saw him standing there with our son and my best friend, the three of them together like a picture-perfect family. That was when I learned he was the heir to a mafia family. My best friend was his fiancée. And my son called her Mom. I thought that was the worst betrayal I'd ever know. I was wrong. My best friend faked my son's kidnapping, forced me to my knees in a warehouse, and sprayed chemicals on my right hand, trying to destroy the hand I used to design. I left, burning with hatred, and boarded a flight to Milan. When we crossed paths again, my ex-husband begged for forgiveness, drowning in regret. I turned and walked away. Some wounds cut too deep to ever heal. And I would never beg for anyone's love again.

Five years ago, I catch my husband, Henry Lancaster, cheating on me. He's a college professor, and the other woman is his teaching assistant, Vera Ashmore. Henry begs me not to go public, saying it'll ruin her reputation. I agree, but only if she drops out of school, leaves the city, never comes back, and signs a binding agreement. Everyone around me calls me vain, saying I care more about money than feelings. And yet Henry is willing to turn on his entire family just to protect her name. Five years later, I travel to that same city on a business trip to attend a lecture and end up finding a little boy wandering by himself. I take him to the police station so he can get in touch with his family. The officer dials the number the boy recites from memory, and a familiar voice comes through the line, "Hey, it's okay, don't be scared. Daddy's coming to get you right now." Less than half an hour later, Henry, who's supposed to be teaching classes a thousand miles away, rushes through the station doors. I'm sitting on a bench when our eyes lock, and he freezes on the spot. I smile and rise to my feet. "Henry, I had no idea you had a secret son behind my back this whole time. Looks like that spotless professor image of yours isn't going to last much longer."

Six years into our long-distance relationship, I tell my girlfriend, Claire Whitmore, that I'm too busy with work to spend her birthday with her. Behind her back, I secretly take the property deed with me and board a ten-hour flight to her city. I want to propose to her in front of all our friends and surprise her. While waiting for my ride, I use my work phone to reply to a few messages, then casually scroll through my social media feed. The first post I see is from my childhood friend, Ryan Cole. "I'm going to be a godfather! My goddaughter is 8.5 pounds. I'm so happy!" I open the photo and see Claire and Damian Pierce posing together, a baby between them. My mind goes completely blank. I scroll through Ryan's other posts and discover that they're all about Claire and Damian's life together. Every moment from the past six years has been documented, from when they first met and fell in love to their marriage and the birth of their child. In their wedding group photo, I even spot several of my closest friends. My heart sinks. They all know about this. I'm the only one who's been kept in the dark for six years.

I come across a highly upvoted answer in a forum titled, "How Far Into a Relationship Do You Need to Be Before Getting Married?" The answer reads, "I have been in a seven-year relationship. I finally get to call my dream woman my wife." I look at the photos attached to the post, with screenshots of countless daily interactions and two marriage certificates. I am slightly surprised when I notice that the woman's name is identical to my girlfriend's. It's only when I look closely at the photos that I realize Thea Jordan has cheated on me. I open the comment section, and the first comment is from Calvin Dawson, my childhood friend. "Thanks for making me your best man, Hayden! Wishing you and Thea all the best!" I feel as if someone has stabbed me in the chest. I find myself losing my composure several times before calling Calvin to press him for answers. Calvin remains quiet for a long time before he finally sighs and says, "They've been together for eight years. They even got married yesterday, at the same wedding venue you liked. I'm the one who told them not to tell you. "You're uneducated and hot-tempered, so you'd just throw a fit and put Hayden on the spot. Hayden had also stayed by Thea's side for all these years without a real status in the relationship, so now he's finally getting what he deserves. You shouldn't hold it against them, William." I feel my blood run cold after hearing all of that. What about the nine years I spent loving Thea? Do those years mean nothing? I look at Thea's slightly protruding belly in the photo. She's carrying my child while marrying another man. It really is true, then. She never loved me from the very beginning.

Wendy Fisher loves me with all her heart. Ten years ago, she was willing to trade her life to save mine. I give up my money, power, and identity without hesitation to elope with her. But when I go into shock from blood loss after a car accident, I can't get through to her on the phone. At that moment, her assistant posts a picture on Instagram with the caption, "Reunited as a family of three, safely and happily." In the photo, I see Wendy holding the baby's hand. She's so happy that she's even forgotten to take off her wedding ring. It turns out even a love forged in life and death amounts to nothing more than this. I smile bitterly and dial my stepmother's number. "I want to restore my identity as Xander Lynch. I'll be back the day after tomorrow."

It took me three years to thaw the frozen heart of Theo, the Mafia's top surgeon, just to marry him. To be his wife, I shut down my documentary studio and locked my Best Director trophy from the independent film festival inside a drawer. I was willing to put away my camera and stay in the shadows as the woman behind the Family's chief surgeon. After he said having a kid in this business was a death sentence, I went to a clinic the very next day and got an IUD. Everyone in our circle was absolutely certain that we would be the perfect power couple. But today, on our fifth wedding anniversary, I decided to get a divorce. My lawyer was my best friend, Jade. She twirled her pen before stopping. "Are you out of your mind? You threw away the title of North America's best independent director for him back then, and now you are telling me you want a divorce?" I swallowed the bitter ache in my chest. "Just draft the divorce papers for me. As soon as possible." She frowned. "But why, Harper?" I looked at the black velvet gift box on the dining table. Inside lay a carefully preserved peony. After a long hesitation, I gave her my answer. "Because of a flower."

At my coming-of-age ceremony, I was supposed to accept the Chosen Mate Mark from my childhood sweetheart, the pack healer, Rowan. We were supposed to be bonded for life. But then Caleb, our Alpha, stepped in. In front of everyone, he pulled me into his arms—an irresistible force, a suffocating tenderness. He claimed it was a Fated Mate bond, that his wolf had lost control. He forcibly marked me. After crying all night, I had no choice but to accept it. I became the pack’s Luna. Everyone thought Caleb and his wolf were possessive. Insane for me. Then, two years into our bond, I finally got pregnant with his pup. That’s when he cupped my face, his eyes red-rimmed and gentle. He forced me onto a cold medical table. Rowan gave me the injection. A lethal dose of wolfsbane to kill our pup. The reason? I’d once been trapped with Rowan for three months in an abandoned silver mine during a rogue attack. A mine that suppressed our wolf powers. He was killing my pup to silence the pack’s rumors about its bloodline. But more than that, he was severing my last tie to Rowan. All so Rowan would be free to bond with his sister, Chloe. That’s when it hit me. My entire life since that ceremony? A lie. A carefully crafted trap. Fine. This sham of a mate bond? This pack? I don’t want any of it.

After three years together, my boyfriend, Walker Ashford, proposed. But right after that, he got cold feet. At our wedding photo shoot, Walker buried his face against my best friend Anna Benedict's shoulder. "The way Valentina looks at me freaks me out," he said. At the jewelry shop, he grabbed Anna's hand and refused to let go. None of it made sense. But my future mother-in-law, Judith Ashford, pulled me aside. "Valentina, why not let Anna take your place in the photos? We can put you in later." Walker's sister, Emma Ashford, pushed Anna forward. "She has better taste. Let her pick the ring for you." I swallowed my hurt and watched in silence as they took my wedding photos and picked out my ring for me. Under the lights, the diamonds glittered so brightly they hurt my eyes. I was about to postpone the wedding when I overheard Judith say to my best friend, "Anna, having Walker pretend to get cold feet was a smart move. Otherwise, how could you two have a wedding of your own without Valentina finding out?" Emma curled her lip. "Valentina is an idiot. She believes everything we tell her." Walker sighed and stroked Anna's hair. "Anna is sick. It's her wish to marry me. If Valentina weren't so controlling, I wouldn't have to keep this wedding a secret from her. Anna gets the wedding. Valentina gets the legal marriage. Sounds fair to me." So that was it. Walker had never gotten cold feet. They had made up the whole thing to fool me. I was done with their lies. I decided to return to Florence and take back my life as a mafia princess. "Dad, I'll marry whoever you choose."

Damian Blackwood, the Alpha heir of a neighboring pack, and I had grown up together, yet he told the entire pack I was worthless. "I'm going to be Alpha one day. I'll lead the entire Blackwood Pack. But you're stuffy and dull, and apart from a pretty face, you're worthless." After that, the entire pack knew me as nothing more than a pretty ornament who coasted on her father's name. Later, war came to the Blackwood Pack. The moment Damian rode out to suppress it, I asked my father to arrange a political match with another pack and let me bond with someone else. It was hard on my father, but he agreed. Six months later, Damian returned victorious, only to find that I had already become another man's mate. He came looking for me like a madman, his eyes red. "Why did you take someone else as your mate?" I turned the wedding ring on my finger and looked at him calmly. "You said it yourself. I'm stuffy and dull, and I'm not fit to be your Luna."

To force the golden bachelor of Morrisey City's high society into marrying me, I once staked my very life as the price. I rammed my car into the one carrying him and his first love as they tried to elope, and I forced her to give up Wade Grant to me. He drove a shard of broken glass through my palm and swore he'd make me wish I were dead once I became his wife. On our wedding night, Wade hung me from the balcony railing with his necktie and forced me to kneel before his first love—the same woman who'd once tried to jump from a rooftop—and beg her forgiveness. I pulled the pin from my hair and drove it through his shoulder, laughing that he was a worthless man who couldn't even protect the woman he loved. For decades after that, the two of us tore at each other like a pair of demons trapped in the same marriage, until we'd both burned down to nothing. Then I was reborn, waking up back at my engagement banquet at twenty years old. In front of everyone in the room, Wade smashed the pocket watch we'd exchanged as a token of our engagement. "Dad. Mr. Rodney. I won't accept a marriage that is forced onto me. "In this life, I will only ever marry Rose Barrymore. Even if you throw me out of the Grant family today, I still won't marry Elisa Rodney!" The whole room went still. Everyone there knew exactly what I was capable of to win Wade. I was the kind of woman who'd stop at nothing and was willing to die just to get what she wanted. Wade glared at me, waiting for me to do exactly what I'd done in my last life: smash a wine bottle and hold the jagged edge to my own throat, threatening to bleed out right there if I didn't get my way. Rose, shielded behind him, had gone pale with fear. She was gripping the hem of his jacket, trembling. I looked at the pieces scattered across the floor and felt nothing but indifference. I picked up the wine glass beside me and drained it in one go. "Congratulations," I said. "I wish you both a happy ever after."

I was supposed to be nothing more than a doomed side character in someone else's story. After I woke up to the truth, though, I became the male lead's best friend instead—and ended up with the wealthy girl who had always loved him, leaving him free to live happily ever after with the school's golden girl. Ten years later, though, he made a very public announcement that he was single and back in town. Then, in the old class group chat that had been inactive for a long time, he sent two messages. [I'm back. We should all get together sometime.] [@Whitney Charlton, you'll be there, right?] The group chat exploded instantly. After all, everyone still remembered the golden boy we had known back then: the charming, arrogant guy who had been the center of attention everywhere he went. When graduation came, he had not chosen the aloof top student who had pursued him for four years. Even after all those years, it was still one of those things everyone wished had ended differently. I glanced down at Whitney, asleep beside me, and raised an eyebrow. I found it regrettable too. After all, I had been waiting ten years for this opportunity.

Jaime Barthes was the only son of the wealthiest family in Hartow City. Ever since he was a child, he could have anything he wanted. On his fifteenth birthday, he fell for Eden Hawthorn the moment he first saw her. Right then and there, he boldly declared, "She belongs to me, and nobody should ever think about touching her!" During the entire decade of their marriage, he was obsessively protective of her. She was forbidden from any kind of interaction with men, and she had to employ the help of her assistant for something as mundane as handing a report to a male colleague. Everyone assumed this was simply Jaime's love language. One day, he caught a terminal disease. The entire nation frantically searched high and low for a matching heart donor, and when they finally found one, Eden decided to give the heart to another man named Jericho Brown.