เรื่องสั้นและนิยายในฉากTragic Love Karma

Six years after my younger brother and my fiancée passed away, I picked out a grave for myself. Before my final visit to their graves, my mother suddenly said, “Miles, you don’t have to go this year. The truth is that they never died.” I was startled for a moment before the two of them walked right out of my brother’s room. My brother, Sean, put on a teasing smile as he draped an arm around the woman beside him. “I won the bet! I told you my brother would never figure it out. “Who’s going to be on top tonight, huh, Vera?” My so-called late fiancée, who used to cry whenever she saw me suffer even the slightest grievance, looked at me with open disdain. “He’s just too stupid. We’ve been living next door this entire time, yet he never noticed.” It was only then that I realized my mother forbad me from entering Sean's room, not because it would make her grieve her son again, but because it was directly connected to the house next door. I was truly too foolish. Right up until a month before my death, I was still thinking about visiting their graves.

The year I turned sixteen, the water supply of Moonlight Pack was contaminated. A desperate, burning thirst spread through every household. Owen was the one who found me half-dead and carried me home. His parents didn't just open their door to me. They shared what little water and food they had left. Everyone said it was because we were fated mates, destined to be together. But anyone could see the truth. His family loved me from the bottom of their hearts. The year I turned twenty, Owen asked me to be his mate. He gave me a silver dagger he'd forged with his own hands. He said that when he wasn't by my side, this dagger would protect me in his place. That very night, I used it to kill everyone in his family.

On the eve of our wedding, my fiancé, Steven Cooper, suddenly appeared before me with his arms around his first love, Molly Hart. “I love you, and I love Molly too. I’ll still give you the wedding you’ve always wanted, but Molly is the one I’m going to marry.” A sharp pain struck my heart. Just as tears were about to fall, I heard Molly’s thoughts. “What a joke. He keeps offering things that don’t even matter. If he loves me so much, why doesn’t he give me money or buy me a house? “If the system weren’t forcing me to collect affection points from scumbag men, I wouldn’t bother standing here acting out this villainess role with him. “And seriously, with a demand this outrageous, she’s not actually going to agree to it just because she’s head over heels for him, is she? “Even if this is only a pre-wedding test, once she gives in, he'll keep trampling over her boundaries. In the end, she'll be destroyed emotionally and physically, and both she and her baby will lose their lives.” My eyes widened in shock, and the tears instantly disappeared. Maybe I was a little lovestruck, but I definitely didn’t want to die.

In the world of crime family, Don Damian and I were known for two things: him for running wild, me for standing by him. Everyone knew I was crazy about Damian. It started when we were kids. I was born with a congenital heart defect. My parents couldn't afford the surgery and chose to walk away. Back then, Damian was just a street-level errand boy whose father had gambling debts. He had no standing, no money, nothing. But to raise cash for my surgery, he volunteered for the most dangerous work the Coronelli family had, the kind where each job was a gamble with his life and every payday came in blood. He clawed his way up. The Don eventually took him in as an adopted son, and I became his wife, just like I'd always hoped. But ten years into our marriage, Damian stopped coming home. I'd sit alone at a table of cold food, calling him over and over. Sometimes a woman's voice would answer in the background. He had a private lounge at the family's club, and there was never a shortage of company. My best friend Vincent couldn't understand it. "Is it worth it? He doesn't love you anymore." I just smiled. "He gave me my life. I know he still loves me." Then Vincent forwarded me an encrypted video. A girl in a hospital gown sat on a hospital bed. At the edge of the frame, a hand with sharp-knuckled fingers reached into the shot, a hand wearing the family crest watch. Their fingers were intertwined. The caption read: [My hero promised to marry me once I'm better!! yay!!] I stared at the screen for a long time. That watch. I knew it cold. It was the one I'd fastened it onto his wrist myself more times than I could count, and there was no way I was wrong.

I was a rarity. A wolf born with two hearts. My parents paid a fortune to rogue healers to implant the second one when I was just an embryo. All because my sister, Cora, was born with a defective heart. They waited for me to grow up, just so I could give my second heart to her. Later, I met my mate, Alpha Rhys. He treated me so well. I really thought he was different from my parents. But the day Cora’s heart failed, my mate held my hand. His touch was terribly gentle. "Baby, just give Cora one heart. You have a spare, right?" He didn't know. I only had one heart left. I gave my spare to him years ago.

My ex-boyfriend, the Don's heir, was getting married today. In the grand reception hall, the bride, Elena, moved through the crowd with a champagne flute in hand, toasting the bosses and captains who'd flown in from across the island. In the dressing room, Luca had me pinned against the gown the bride had just changed out of, fucking me hard. The mirror gave me back a stranger, hair tangled, not a stitch of clothing left on me, my neck covered in marks he'd left like a signature. The camera on the side table blinked red. Three knocks at the door. Luca stood up, straightened the white rose boutonniere on his lapel, picked up the black earpiece from the table and pressed it in. He tossed it at me without looking. "One night. Half a million euros. Anna, you're even pricier than I remembered." I watched his back as he walked out, and picked up the check with shaking hands. Rosa, don't be scared. Mama's got the money to save you.

I begged my husband 304 times before he finally agreed to spend a birthday with our seriously ill daughter. We waited until the cake on the table melted and the warmth slowly left our daughter’s body, but he never showed up. Then, his first love shared a photo on social media. In it, my husband had one arm around her and the other holding her child. Behind them stood a towering birthday cake display. Our daughter had waited five years for a birthday cake that never came. Yet another child received it without even trying. The caption read: The promised tiered cake is finally here! I quietly liked the post. Soon after, he texted me, demanding an explanation. [How many times do I have to tell you? Miranda’s daughter is dealing with depression, and I need to be there for her. Don’t call me unless it’s urgent.] I looked down at the child in my arms, whose body had gone completely cold. “Alright,” I said softly. “I won’t do that again.”

I am the youngest daughter of the King of the Sea, the most beloved little mermaid princess. The man I married is the world's most brilliant marine biologist. He has a childhood sweetheart who grew up with him, a woman who knows everything about extracting ocean toxins. The two of them, her brewing poisons and him developing antidotes, spent over a decade happily doing research together. Until the day she injected that toxin into my body. I nearly died. When I came to, he was sitting at my bedside writing up a treatment plan. "Don't be mad at Vicky," he said, still writing, his voice impossibly gentle. "She's just immature. She didn't mean to hurt you." "She knows I can save you. She just wanted to get a rise out of me." The moment those words left his mouth, one of Vicky's people came to call for him. After he left, I looked down at the treatment plan. He had left out one key ingredient. He'd been in too much of a hurry. He hadn't even noticed. That was when the sprite, silent for so long, finally stirred. The glowing pearl that had traveled with me for over twenty years drifted out from my collar, floating lazily in a slow circle. "Your Highness, once your human-form energy is depleted on land, your soul will return to the sea, and you'll never be able to come ashore again. This treatment plan is missing deep-sea spirulina extract. Following it will drain your energy even faster. The choice is yours." I stared at that line for a long time. Then I passed the treatment plan to the caretaker and smiled. "Let's go with this."

From the day I married Jason, I knew I was only a stand-in. He was heir to the vampire throne. I was nothing — the most forgettable daughter of a declining human noble family. The only reason he'd ever looked twice at me was this face. A face that happened to mirror Vicky's — his first love, already married to someone else. For three years after the wedding, I copied her carefully. I smiled whenever I saw him. He would touch my cheek, his eyes cold. “Vicky never smiled like that. Not to please someone.” To stay by his side, I got pregnant again and again — and lost each pregnancy, one after another, in the chill of his indifference. Three years of marriage. I had nothing left but scars. And still I would not let go. Until Vicky's divorce brought her back, and she came to the door herself. At a banquet, assassins struck. Jason's first instinct was to drop me and go to her. Nearly dying finally cleared my head. I signed the divorce papers myself and handed them to him. Later, after I finally walked away, Jason came looking for me — again and again. His eyes were blood-red, his voice unsteady. “Elena. I finally know. You're the one I love.” I just looked at him and smiled, calm. “Too late.”

Before my grandfather, the Don of the Rinaldi family, dies, he leaves behind a will. The five Principessas of the Rinaldi family are forbidden from using our family name. We must live like ordinary people until one of us gives birth to the first heir. Whoever does so will inherit everything. For three years, I keep my identity hidden. My husband, Oliver Wright, and I live in a cramped apartment to the south of Windmere. Every morning, we squeeze onto the subway to get to work. When we're short on money, we stay up late making plans and racking our brains trying to keep his small company afloat. I never think life is hard because I love him. One day, the doctor hands me my medical test results—I am the first one to become pregnant. Upon learning this, my whole body trembles with excitement. The life that Oliver and I have struggled toward for years suddenly feels within reach. I drive home with a happy smile on my face as I imagine how he will react. But when I push the door open, I see a woman wearing my favorite nightgown. She is sitting with Oliver, sharing the apple I left in the refrigerator with him. He takes a bite from her hand and glances at me casually. "My first love, Maeve Young, is back. Let's get a divorce." My fingers tighten around the pregnancy test report. Then, I smile and say, "Sure." What he doesn't know is that his penniless, patient, obedient, and endlessly forgiving wife has a last name powerful enough to open every door in Windmere. I will keep this child, and the family fortune will still pass to me. As for my husband, Oliver? I'm ready to let him go.

Three years after I had made my girlfriend, Sophia Lambert, sleep with her superior, she finally went from being his lover to becoming his wife. Meanwhile, I barely made it out alive after years of being undercover in a drug trafficking ring. My body was broken beyond repair, and I had returned home only to wait for death. Sophia arrived with one of her arms wrapped around her husband’s during a charity visit for the poor. When she saw me standing in line for relief aid, she let out a mocking laugh. “Benjamin, how did you end up like this?” I hunched my shoulders. I hid the First-Class Merit Medal for Narcotics Enforcement I had received not long ago. After a long silence, I asked, “Are you happy now?” She twirled the diamond ring on her finger in a lackadaisical manner. “The wedding’s next week. What do you think? “If you want, you can even become a groomsman. Orlando believes in diversity. His groomsmen comprises of different kinds of guys. He’s just missing someone disabled.” I shook my head and turned down her offer. “No, I won’t be able to make it.” The poison in my body had already spread to my heart. I only had a few days left.

At the World Rally Championship Final, my fiancee, Brielle Fuller, deliberately gave me the wrong turn call. Because of her, I lost the championship. Right there on the spot, she called off our engagement and ran straight into the arms of my rival, Chase Monroe. Just when I thought I'd lost everything, my childhood friend, Naomi Sutton, proposed to me. "It's okay. To me, you'll always be number one." Seven years later, I rebuilt my career and fought my way back to the top. Just as I was preparing to break Chase's championship record, a brake failure sent my car plunging off a mountainside. While drifting in and out of consciousness at the hospital, I overheard a conversation outside my room. "You're ruthless. You actually did something like this. Weren't you afraid he might die?" "If he dies, so be it. The only person I've ever loved is Chase. I only regret that you married him before I could. Otherwise I wouldn't have had to put myself through that all these years." I stared wide-eyed into the darkness. The love I thought was so deep was nothing more than wishful thinking. If they cared so much about Chase, then maybe I should disappear.

I was a princess ennobled by my father, the late king. Marrying the general of the northern frontier, Griffin Quenell was already a great show of royal favor. On my wedding day, just as my royal carriage arrived at the Quenell family’s courtyard, a woman dressed in grey wool knelt before the castle gate. She held a swaddled infant in her arms. Griffin, as the groom of the day, dressed in his wedding tunic, blocked my path with a troubled expression. “Your Grace, Joan is someone I met in the borderlands. She bore me a son and now has no place to go. Please let her move in with me on this special occasion. You’ll be my first wife, and she’ll be my second wife. It’s all for the sake of the Quenell bloodline.” The guests at the gate erupted into commotion. His grandmother, Wilma Quenell, spoke firmly. “Your Grace, you were born into royalty. You certainly do not lack a title. However, Griffin is the only son the Quenell family has had in three generations. This child bears the Quenell name. We surely can’t make him an illegitimate child.” The border soldiers knelt and said in unison, “Your Grace, have mercy!” I looked down at the child in the swaddle, then at Griffin’s pleading gaze. I smiled, removed my coronet from my head, and placed it on the wedding table. Then, I turned and boarded my carriage. “General Quenell, I will not stop you from wanting an heir, but my late father’s decree said I am to be married, not given away as a gift. If your family cannot abide by his words, then I shall take the decree back with me.”

When I was in a car accident, my fiancee, Celeste Quinn, was celebrating her first love's birthday. I was barely alive when I called her. All I got was her impatient voice. "Ryan Sheridan, what kind of stunt is this now? Are you ever going to stop? "Good. Die, then. Stop bothering me." I didn't die though. I decided to give her and her first love what they wanted. I stopped bothering her. Later, when she finally remembered me, she begged me to come back. I handed her a marriage certificate instead. "Sorry. I'm already married."

My father was the God-King, and he loved my mortal mother with all his heart. To help her adapt to life in the divine realm, he even infused his own blood into her, granting her eternal youth and elevating her to the rank of a goddess. Defying the unanimous opposition of all gods, he built a resplendent palace solely for her here in the divine realm, making her the happiest woman across all heavens. Yet he never loved me — his first child, born of him and my mother. As time went by, he visited my mother less and less frequently. Eventually, I passed away. Mother begged him to seek justice for me, but he only replied indifferently, "We shall have many more children." His words crushed every last glimmer of hope in her heart. Mother grew utterly disillusioned with him, and resolved to avenge me with her own hands. The God-King’s patience toward her dwindled day by day. It was as if I had been born bearing nothing but misfortune. To avenge my wrongful death, Mother cast aside everything she once held dear. When she finally turned her back and left the divine realm forever, that aloof, domineering God-King went mad. He chased after her, begging desperately for her to return.

I had already bought the house we were supposed to build our future in, and over the years, I had carefully set aside a substantial wedding fund. I could not wait to spend the rest of my life with my girlfriend, Jeannie Cooperd. Jeannie had always seemed delicate and timid. Even a simple remark would leave her eyes red with tears. For two years, I spoiled her shamelessly, giving in to her every whim. Every plan I made, every dollar I saved, and every dream I held revolved around our wedding and the life we would share together. Then, I received the kidney compatibility report. The moment I saw the results, my heart turned icy. The woman who normally shrank from pain was now gripping my shoulders with surprising strength, determined to push me toward the operating room. "You're healthy! What's the big deal about living with one kidney?" she cried. "Elliot is dying!" Elliot. The name alone was enough. He was the first love she had never truly let go of, the one she had kept hidden in the deepest corner of her heart. Just yesterday, he was diagnosed with complete kidney failure. To pay for his treatment and cover the debts he had accumulated, Jeannie secretly canceled our wedding, drained every cent from the wedding fund and savings we had built together, and poured it all into Elliot's medical bills and endless financial problems. That was not enough. With sweet words and carefully crafted lies, she coaxed me into coming to the hospital and persuaded me to undergo compatibility testing.

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.

My wife was eight months pregnant when she indulged her first love for the ninety-eighth time and let him run our child down with his car. My lawyer wife had promised me she'd bring him to justice, but in court, she suddenly changed her statement. "Mr. Quinn has a serious history of mental illness. His family will discipline him verbally, but he shouldn't be held criminally responsible." After the hearing, she shielded Caleb Quinn as he sobbed in public, then leaned close to my ear and said softly, "I promised you I'd only indulge him one hundred times. Let's just use up one chance. I can't watch him go to prison, can I?" I looked at my wife's flat stomach and felt calmer than I'd ever felt before. Then I nodded. She'd relied on that bet for six years, certain she could do anything. She'd forgotten there was only one chance left.

I made a deal with the Devil. My soul, in exchange for seven days on earth after I died. The eleventh hour after my death happened to fall on our third wedding anniversary. The moment I walked through the door, he had just come home from another woman's place. He had an anniversary gift waiting for me. A set of sapphires. But the card tucked beside them bore another woman's name. I spotted a pale lavender hair tie in his hand. Once, I would have fought him over a hair tie like that, all the way from the front hall to the study. This time, I said nothing. It was him who froze instead, staring at me like I was a stranger. "You didn't used to be like this. I almost miss the way you used to fall apart over everything." He was right. The old me would have thrown a fit over something as small as him forgetting to cut my steak. But ever since the miscarriage, my heart had been dying by slow degrees. When I found out I was pregnant, I was overjoyed. I wanted him to be the first to know. But I couldn't reach him, no matter how many times I called. I lost the baby. I hemorrhaged. That very afternoon, while I lay on the operating table, a photo of him and that woman hit the entertainment headlines. He never even knew I had carried a child. Now there was only one last thing I wanted from him. To drive me up to the northern coast, and bury me with his own hands. But when he realized I had truly vanished from this world, he came undone.

"Evelyn Vane. You conspired with the Fallen. You tried to murder Tania Swann, future Lady of the Nightfall Court. Today, your blood wakes the Blood Mirror. We will rip out your memories. We will seal your fate." In the ancient catacombs, the Blood Mirror cast a dark red halo in the candlelight. My former fated mate lounged on his black velvet throne. He was Valerius Cross, the noble Lord of the Nightfall Court. Those eyes used to look at me with love. Now, they held only disgust. "The Blood Mirror will show every betrayal you've committed against this Court. Our entire kind will see the monster hiding under that pretty skin!" Tania clung softly to Valerius's broad chest. She traced lazy circles on his skin. A sweet, smug smile played on her lips. She was so sure the mirror would condemn me tonight. She was so sure I'd burn to ashes. The rune-carved silver chains bit deep into my flesh. Black smoke hissed from my burns. Even so, I spoke. My voice was broken. "Valerius, are you sure about this? Do you really want my blood to show you my memories? Once it starts... none of you can turn back."