Independence Tragic Love Short Stories & Novels

During the five years that Sophie Lord was married, she had been continuously doing IVFs and was finally able to become pregnant with Luke Shaw’s child. That same day, she saw Luke at the hospital with his secretary, Helen Jones. He was accompanying her for a pregnancy test. Sophie was devastated and asked Luke to choose between her and the child in Helen’s womb. “Let’s not make a fuss, Sophie. I’ll explain everything to you when I get back. You need to calm down first. I’m keeping this child no matter what.” He carefully supported Helen as they left, but what he didn’t see was the blood trickling down Sophie’s legs. Later on, when Sophie disappeared from Luke’s life, the latter brought down completely.

When I found out I was pregnant, Elroy Lousteau went all out—hired some fancy doctor, loaded me up with meds to "protect the baby." He'd never believed in anything before, but suddenly he went to church, praying like his life depends on it. "You've been through hell, babe. Once the baby's here, I swear I'll make it right." That same day, I picked up his phone by accident. "As instructed, the meds include a compound for permanent infertility. The baby will be stillborn. "Ms. Tillon's baby is healthy and will be delivered safely—as the true Lousteau heir. "Mrs. Lousteau won't suspect a thing. Your relationship's secure. You can rest assured." I looked down at my belly. He never loved me. Not really. So I made up my mind—once the divorce papers were signed, I was gone. No looking back.

My husband's first love, the woman he had once idolized, had left him for a powerful and influential school bully. Years later, she found herself in the midst of a bitter divorce and in need of a lawyer. And who else but my husband, now an accomplished attorney, ended up back in her orbit? As he moved toward her once more, I decided it was time to step aside. After all, there was no stopping someone determined to chase after a lost cause.

When Matteo Morandi divided up the territories, he let my cousin, Chloe Serra, choose first. As always. One was the deep-water port, a gold mine and our safest territory. The other was a stretch of abandoned, crumbling docks in the slums, where rival crews often traded gunfire. For the first time, I stepped forward before Chloe could choose. I pointed to the deep-water port on the map. "I want this one." Matteo rested a warm hand on my shoulder. His voice was gentle, but his words were cruel. "Chloe can't handle the slums. She needs to be in the safest place we've got. "Celia, the slums are more your speed." I was so angry I laughed out loud, but I didn't argue. Instead, my clenched fists slowly loosened. My uncle, Enzo Serra, liked to say Chloe was the Serra family's precious white dove, while I was the vicious dog born to fight in the mud. In his eyes, it was the perfect arrangement. The marriage alliance worked the same way. Matteo needed a respectable woman at his side to clean up his brutal reputation, so Chloe was the obvious choice. But Chloe cried and refused. She dreamed of an artist and a life in the sunshine. She would never marry a Sicilian butcher. So Uncle Enzo picked me. I'd taken a bullet for Matteo and known him for 12 years, yet I was still only ever his second choice. "Then give it all to Chloe. I'm done."

As I stepped out of my older brother's newly opened supermarket, the alarm suddenly rang. The sales assistant grimly reached out and grabbed me, "Miss, you haven't paid yet." I remembered that my buttons were made of metal, which triggered the alarm. After patiently explaining and easing the atmosphere, I said, "The owner of this supermarket is my older brother. He'll pay the bill." The sales assistant scoffed. "Your brother's the boss? Why not say he's your husband instead? You stole and refused to admit it. Pay up or I'll call the police immediately," she said and crumpled the receipt into a ball before throwing it at my face. I endured the humiliation and unfolded it. A baby pacifier for 100,000 dollars. Two packs of baby wet wipes for 200,000 dollars. Security personnel's hush fee, 300,000 dollars. All of the miscellaneous expenses added up to exactly one million dollars. I laughed in anger. "One million dollars? Why don't you just rob a bank? Go and get Chad Surrey. I want to see how I ended up with such a heartless brother." She rolled her eyes. "Don't pretend if you can't afford it, thief. Is Mr. Surrey someone you can see whenever you want?" When my parents came to help me, I said, "Only one of us exists in this family. It's either me or her."

During a team-building event, we are playing King's Game, a game where anyone who draws the King card gets to order another player around. The company's new intern, Daniel Zugler, draws the King card. His eyes narrow as he sweeps a glance across everyone present. At last, his gaze lands on my fiancee, Sharon Solt. "Then how about… Sharon, feed me a grape using your mouth." There is an immediate uproar, with people slamming their hands on the table, wolf-whistling, or even holding their phones up in preparation to record the moment. Their loud jeering is almost deafening. I initially think that Sharon will refuse coldly, yet to my surprise, she actually blushes and playfully scolds them, "You guys are seriously too much!" Following that, she plucks a grape from the fruit platter, bites it gently between her teeth, then leans closer to Daniel. Daniel smoothly wraps an arm around her shoulders and brings his lips close to hers, almost brushing against them. However, his eyes aren't focused on her. Instead, he gazes past her to shoot me a provocative look. I immediately jump to my feet, my hand snapping out to seize her wrist. Silence descends upon the room at my action. Yet, Sharon yanks her arm out of my grip. "It's just a game. Why are you making such a huge deal about it? Danny's new here, and this is his first team-building event with us. Are you trying to make things difficult for him and humiliate him?" Subsequently, I don't bother stopping them again, allowing their lips and teeth to clash together. That night, after we return home, the phone she left on the coffee table suddenly vibrates. A WhatsApp message appears on the screen, sent from someone she saved as "Sunshine" in her contacts. "Sharon, the grape was quite sweet. Are you going to feed me again next time?" I lock her phone screen and don't ask any questions. One week later, Sharon goes on a work trip and has to bring an assistant with her. She chooses Daniel, who has zero experience. Still, I say nothing, but I do hand in my resignation letter to the HR department. This time, I won't look back again.

Just before closing, the restaurant had one last serving of spaghetti with meat sauce left. I’d spent three years paying off my boyfriend’s debts to loan sharks. I hadn’t eaten all day and was finally about to dig in. But Jax Carter snatched the bowl away from me and carried it over to Camilla Price, the recently divorced owner of the flower shop next door. “Camilla’s got it tough raising a kid on her own. Skipping one meal won’t kill you.” The neighborhood lowlifes at the other tables whistled and hooted. “Jax and Camilla are a match made in heaven. They’ve both had it rough. Hurry up and shack up already!” “What a good guy Jax is, looking out for Camilla like that! It’s nice to see young people still care.” That night, a debt collector’s thug smashed a bottle over my head, and blood ran into my eyes. Jax didn’t even look at me. He was busy helping Camilla pick up the flowers that had been knocked over. I wiped the blood from my face. That was when it hit me: I’d wasted three years on a relationship worth less than a bowl of spaghetti. It was long past time to walk away.

I am Alpha Dominic’s fated mate. I saved him when he was at his lowest. He didn't care that I was just an ordinary Omega. Countless times, as we mated, he’d kiss me like he was starving for me, whispering that I was a gift from the Moon Goddess herself. But that was before his ex—the high-born she-wolf, Chloe—came back. He started letting his pack walk all over me. And when my grandmother was framed for poisoning Chloe, he had her thrown in the dungeon cells without a second thought. I begged him, but Dominic just shot me a cold, warning look. "Evelyn, our mating ceremony is a week away. Don't let this scandal ruin it." He didn't know. That night, my grandmother died in those cells. And I made a decision. I refuse to be his Luna.

To stop my boyfriend from marrying me, his mother hired a group of thugs to kidnap me. They dragged me into the woods and tortured me for an entire day and night, leaving barely a patch of uninjured skin on my body. Eden York lost his mind after finding me. He went after every single person involved and ruined them without hesitation, even personally sending his own mother to prison. He never once cared about what had happened to me. If anything, he became even more determined to marry me, willing to turn his back on his entire family to make it happen. But the moment I woke up in the hospital again, a cold mechanical voice suddenly echoed in my head. [Host, your target’s affection level has reached 100%. Final marriage mission unlocked.] [Complete the mission to receive a sixty-million-dollar reward. You may also choose whether to leave this world.] [Warning: If the mission fails, you will be permanently erased from this world.] I was still trying to process the words when Eden’s voice suddenly rang out in my mind. [Perfect. After everything I did with my mother to set this up, I finally maxed out her affection points.] [Once the final mission is complete, I’ll dump her immediately and be with Tiffany instead.] Beside me, Eden instantly noticed how pale I had gone and reached out to touch my face. “Summer, what’s wrong? Are you feeling sick?” I slowly shook my head. “No. I’m just really looking forward to the wedding in seven days.”

Keane Mercer was the captain of the Boston Blades, one of the biggest teams in professional hockey. We'd been together for five years, and I hadn't missed a single one of his games. I could never get seats near the glass. Every game, I settled for the best spot I could find in a corner, lifting my camera to capture every moment he was on the ice. I asked him once. "Could you save me a seat in the friends-and-family section just once? The view is so much better from there." He didn't even look up. "I'm the captain. I can't play favorites. Maybe another time." He never said when "another time" would be. I never asked again. The friends-and-family seat remained empty season after season. Until the semifinals this year. For the first time, someone was sitting there. She was a young woman with a warm, bright smile, standing with the help of a crutch. Every time Keane scored, his eyes found hers. When the final buzzer sounded, he skated straight to the stands, lifted her effortlessly into his arms, and carried her out, shielding her as they disappeared into the crowd. I lowered my camera, packed away my gear, and walked out of the arena alone. Then I reopened the transfer offer I'd deleted and clicked "Accept". If I was never going to have a place in Keane's friends-and-family section, then I was done waiting on the sidelines. It was time to build a life that belonged to me.

My fiancé Damian Crowley and I'd been together for six years. But the night before my wedding, he demanded that I let my twin sister, Chloe Lambert, take my place as the bride. "Chloe doesn't have much time left. This is her only dream. Think of it as granting your sister's last wish." My own parents jabbed their fingers in my face and yelled at me too. They said I owed Chloe my life. It was only a wedding, they said, and I should stop being so selfish. Three years ago, I'd slipped and fallen into the water, and Chloe had supposedly risked her life to save me. She'd been in fragile health ever since. From then on, my family blamed me for everything. I walked on eggshells around them and gave Chloe whatever she wanted to repay that debt. I told myself I owed her, so I gave in to every demand, no matter how unreasonable. Now they wanted me to give up my wedding too. I looked at Chloe hiding behind my fiancé, barely able to keep the triumph off her face. My fingers closed around the contents of my bag: a falsified medical record with an official hospital stamp and proof of what had really happened three years ago. I smiled coldly and nodded. This time, I wouldn't just give them what they wanted. I'd give them a wedding the whole city would talk about.

My girlfriend, Selena Jenkins, and I are committed to a strict 50-50 relationship. We are three years into our relationship, and we split everything down to a single bottle of water. Then, out of nowhere, I get a call from a kidnapper. "We have your girlfriend. Have 150 thousand dollars ready, or she dies!" I calmly launch our app, SplitMate. According to the algorithm, this unexpected incident falls under "shared risk", meaning she is responsible for 50% of the cost. However, after factoring in the personal insurance policy I took out on her behalf, she only needs to pay 35,550 dollars. I send the calculation results to the kidnapper. "This is her share. Please contact her family for the payment. I'm only responsible for my own portion." The line goes silent. A few minutes later, I receive a livestream link. The livestream shows Selena tied to a chair, smiling at her phone. The live chat in front of her is blowing up. "Holy shit! This guy's a monster. This is the craziest livestream I've seen all year!" Later on, she follows the 50-50 rule to a T, but I'm no longer on board with it.

The year my dad went broke, I was sent to live with billionaire heir Jace Blackwell. We grew up together. When he had a fever, he clung to me, face buried in my arms. When he got yelled at, he sprawled across my lap and sulked. And when another boy wrote me a love letter, Jace pinned me down and kissed me—shaking, jealous, possessive. Everyone thought we were the perfect couple. Then, on the day we were filling out our early college applications, a sharply dressed man burst into the classroom and shoved me to the floor. He grabbed eighteen-year-old Jace, his eyes bloodshot. "Jace! Look at me! I'm you ten years from now! Don't go to the same college as Nadia. She's not the one you love. It's Faye!" Faye Whitmore. The broke new girl. Eighteen-year-old Jace stared at that identical face, stunned. Then his expression went dark. "What the hell are you talking about? The only person I love is Nadia! I don't care who you are. Touch her again, and I'll kill you!" He rushed over and pulled me into his arms. He was shaking. I gave a bitter smile. No one knew. I was from ten years in the future, too. And twenty-eight-year-old Jace wasn't lying. By then, I wasn't the girl he loved anymore.

People in our circle told the same joke at every gathering. "Jason's wife can't give him children, so she sends women to his bed every day. I wish the hag at my house had that kind of sense." They had no idea that my mother-in-law, Kate, was the one who had found those women and used my name to send them in. The first time, Jason Gibson threw the woman out and had a terrible fight with me. Afterward, he spent over ten million dollars on jewelry to make it up to me at the auction house. The second time it happened, he had barely touched her hand when he threw up. Then, he fought with me again. Afterward, he bought an estate and told me I would be the only woman by his side. - That was until the tenth woman. This time, he shut the bedroom door and did not come out all night. We stopped fighting. We stopped speaking. Everyone thought I would do anything to secure my place in the Gibson family and hang on to them for the rest of my life. But when I finally took out the divorce agreement, no one believed it. Not even Jason himself.

Everyone said my wife and I were deeply in love. Even after she had built a successful career and founded her own music company, she still came with me to my hometown for the Christmas-New Year's holiday and handed out lavish presents to all the younger relatives. Only I knew that she was no longer the woman she had once been. After we had a few rounds of drinks, my younger cousin started clamoring for karaoke. While Regina Lockwood was in the bathroom, I took her phone to queue up some songs for everyone. That was when I noticed the music app was still open to a shared listening session. One account, its avatar a comic-book hero, had spent more than 2,600 hours listening together with Regina. Even as she smiled and piled food onto my plate, raising her glass to toast our relatives, that shared listening session remained running in her earphones—keeping her connected to a world that belonged only to her and another man. Just then, the bathroom door opened. Regina walked out, rubbing hand cream into her hands, an elegant, composed smile still on her face. "Honey, why are you holding my phone? Were you checking up on me?"

In the New York Mafia, everyone knows that Cassian, the ruthless Don of the Valeriano family, loves me. His devotion is practically a legend. A cold-blooded killer like him spends a month every year at his family's estate in Sicily, praying for my health. I always thought I was the only queen in his empire. Until the day I saw an encrypted video. My best friend Bianca was holding a little boy, smiling at the camera. "We couldn't keep our hands off each other at the villa back then. That's how Nico was made." "So every year, we come back to thank God for this gift." A second later, a man's hand reached into the frame to tuck her windblown hair behind her ear. Gentle and practiced. But the man's collar was slightly unbuttoned. It revealed the cross necklace I designed for him—the one holding the fatal bullet I took for him years ago. I sat in a room with a roaring fireplace, but my blood froze. Right then, my private doctor called. "Miss Aria, I have bad news and worse news." "Your fetus has a rare genetic defect. It requires a high-risk in-utero surgery. The success rate is under thirty percent." I looked up blankly. My face was wet with tears I didn't even know I shed. My voice trembled, but it carried a newfound coldness. "Cancel the surgery. I'm not keeping the baby."

I watched as my boyfriend put the ring that he had promised to give me on Sophie White's finger at her birthday party. When I questioned him, Mark Goodman shrugged nonchalantly. "I promised to marry Sophie. Since that's not happening now, the ring is compensation." I was left speechless from rage and so disenchanted that I decided to cut all ties with him. Everyone was cheering when Mark later showed up at a gathering with Sophie, both wearing a matching set of rings. But when they all thought I would make a scene, I smiled faintly. "You two really deserve each other. When are you getting married? Do send me an invite."

Whenever people from Meyruelle praised the 'beauty of the century', everyone would burst into laughter at once, scoffing. "Not only is she gorgeous, but she has the patience of a saint! She’s even raised two children for her husband’s mistress!" So when I finally asked for a divorce, not a single person took me seriously. David Thompson didn't even blink, casually tossing a check in front of me. "Stop making a scene and go buy yourself a couple of bags." My oldest son didn't even look up from his video game. "Stop bothering Dad. If you're going to get the hell out, just do it. Stop faking it." My youngest son called his biological mother directly. "That old witch looks like she's finally leaving. Mom, get ready!" Even the house staff shook their heads, warning me to stop playing hard to get. However, facing everyone's mockery, I didn't feel any sadness or anger. I simply dialed the phone number I knew by heart. "Muriel, our ten-year agreement is up. The debt I owed you for saving my sister's life is officially paid off."

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."

I had just reunited with my biological daughter when my husband and I had to fly overseas on a business trip. I was about to send my son his living expenses when a barrage of comments suddenly floated across my vision. [Don’t go! Your son’s girlfriend will come straight to your house and take over! She’ll pocket every cent you send him!] [Your two daughters will be abused so badly that they’ll be forced to eat tree bark with their bare hands, and they’ll think you allowed it!] [Both your adopted daughter and your biological daughter will come to hate you. Your son will manipulate them into helping him seize control of the company!] [In the end, your son will turn against his entire family for that gold digger. You’ll die alone on the street, with no one to even claim your body!] My hand froze in midair right as I was about to transfer ten million dollars to my son. The next second, he came trotting over with an eager smile. “Mom, Dad, don’t worry about a thing while you’re away! I’ll take good care of my two sisters! Oh, and don’t forget to send me my living expenses before you leave!” A chill ran through me. I quietly backed out of the transfer screen. “I’m not going on this business trip.”