Melodramatic Short Stories & Novels

On my birthday, the dining table was loaded with all my favorites. My mom had been cooking and baking the entire afternoon, insisting everything be perfect for when Mike got home from work so we could celebrate together. But then, he called and said his first love had been drugged at a bar, and he had to go help her. I stopped him and begged him not to go. Mike snapped at me. "Jesus, Em, don’t pull this jealous wife crap. She’s alone, defenseless, and unconscious—I can't let some random dude take advantage of her!" My mother heard those words and was so enraged that she had a heart attack. She died on the spot. Just like that, my mom died on my birthday. I called Mike, asking him to attend my mom's funeral. But before he could reply, I saw Cathy Miller's latest Instagram post, captioned: [Mikey… after all these years, it was always you.] Mike had liked it. My thumb moved before my brain caught up, typing out the only words that mattered: [A homewrecker and a lying bastard. Hope you rot together.]

I secretly sent Lena Parker, my husband Dominic Caballero's mistress, away to Sicara. I'm defying his authority as the Don of Coastwick, New Hudson. That very night, he abducts my parents and younger brother, using their lives to force me to reveal Lena's whereabouts. Dominic pushes his phone in front of me. On the screen, I see my family tied to chairs, the timer of the bombs ticking down. 00:59:59 00:59:58 He sits across from me and taps his fingers softly against the table, like he's closing a business deal. "Alyssa, you have 59 minutes," Dominic says in a calm, almost gentle voice. "Where's Lena?" I freeze, my throat tightening as if strangled. I can't get a word out. This is the third time he's pressed me. The first time, he asked where Lena had gone, but I stayed silent. The second time, he grabbed my chin and said in a low voice, "Alyssa, don't play games." Now, for the third time, he's threatening my family's lives. "Dominic…" I call out, my voice trembling. "They're my family. They're the most important people to me." He chuckles. "Is that so? Then why didn't you think about how important Lena is to me when you sent her away?" I stare at him, feeling how utterly absurd it all is. Important? He told me before that other women were just playthings. Once he got bored, he'd dump them. He swore I was the only one he loved. But now, for Lena, he's willing to kill my family.

My mother, Winona Barlowe, who was the medical director at the hospital, decided to let my intern sister, Mia Barlowe, practice her skills by performing a brain tumor surgery on me. I begged my mother to assign another doctor since it was my only chance at survival. She slapped me across the face and cried out, "How did I ever give birth to a selfish girl like you? Mia just started her internship. Can’t you give her the chance to practice?" When I died from the botched surgery, she turned gray overnight.

It was only in the eighth year of our marriage that I discovered my husband had a mistress in the neighborhood. Her place had the same layout as mine, except her furnishings were more luxurious. He was a good husband for her, meticulously caring for his young and beautiful wife. They were even expecting a baby. She sent me a message, eager to get rid of and replace me. She had forgotten I was the one who had been through hard times with him, Clyde Sherwood, and fought alongside him for more than a decade. Her pregnancy was what they both wanted, but there was no way I would allow things to work out the way they anticipated. Taking advantage of his conflicted feelings, I made sure he didn't have any more assets. Everything came with a price. Not only would I make him fall from grace, but I would also make him rot in ruins.

I was born with a special ability that allowed me to bear other people’s misfortune. As long as I signed my name at someone’s request, I could transfer their suffering to myself. My best friend was frail and sickly, while I was strong and healthy. Whenever she showed the first signs of a cold or fever, she would bring me a note that read: [Please bear my illness for me.] I never hesitated. I willingly signed my name every time, then fell seriously ill for three days. Whenever my boyfriend saw me sick, his face filled with concern, and he repeatedly urged me to stop pushing myself so hard. I only smiled. The next time, I still chose to help my best friend. Then, one day, my boyfriend suddenly proposed to me and gave me a villa as an engagement gift. I solemnly signed my name on the property transfer documents. At that moment, I felt happier than I had ever been. However, that very night, several people dragged me into an alley and gang-raped me. I returned home covered in injuries, only to hear my boyfriend say to my best friend, "I already tricked Lia into signing her name. She’ll take this disaster in your place. Don’t blame yourself. I’ll spend the rest of my life treating her well as compensation."

My Alpha mate cheated on me with an Omega we had kindly taken in. Six months ago, at the Pack ceremony, their sex video was projected onto the big screen. I felt the blood drain from my body in a single heartbeat. I made a scene. Forced Cain to swear in front of the entire Pack Alliance assembly that he would cut ties with Vivienne. He made his vow. And yes, he came back. The first time we attended a multi-pack banquet together after our so-called reconciliation, a Luna who'd always had it in for me stepped into my path. "Wren, what exactly are you so proud of? You threw a fit across the whole pack — catching your mate in the act, making sure every last person saw that video. What kind of Luna makes a spectacle of herself like that?" "Your Alpha didn't even mark her. And you went nuclear over it? Cain must've done something truly terrible in a past life to end up with a Luna like you." I turned to Cain. Waiting for him to speak. A denial. A defense. Even a single word. He lowered his eyes and said nothing. Something inside my head shattered. A few days later, I saw Vivienne at the market on the edge of pack territory. All because she accidentally knocked over a shelf, the shop owner raised his hand to slap her. Before the slap could land, Cain appeared out of nowhere. I had never seen Cain use that level of dominance on anyone. Three years ago, I was attacked by rogue wolves. Nearly died from the injuries. When Cain arrived, his expression was cold and composed. Today, he nearly lost it — because an Omega got slapped. Almost in the same second, my phone lit up. An official notification from the Alpha Council filled the screen: [Luna Wren, the Mate Bond dissolution documents you commissioned have been prepared.] But why did the usually calm Alpha went crazy after I left?

My pregnant coworker demanded that I take responsibility for her baby. There was just one problem: I'm a woman. When Claire Parker first told me she was pregnant, I assumed she was simply sharing the good news. We weren't close, but I congratulated her to be polite. Then her next message left me staring at my phone in disbelief. "You need to take responsibility." "What?" The demand was so absurd that I initially thought she was trolling me. But then she began listing all the things she expected me to do, and I realized she was serious. "Take Wednesday off and come with me to my appointment. "I don't want the baby, so you need to pay for the abortion. "Afterward, take time off work and stay home to look after me." I stared at the stream of messages before cutting her off. "Is this supposed to be my baby? I didn't impregnate you, so why should I be responsible?" To my disbelief, she responded as if her reasoning made perfect sense. "If you hadn't told me that my ex and I looked good together, I never would've slept with him! Then I wouldn't be pregnant! "Are you really going to avoid taking responsibility just like he did?"

At our seventh-anniversary party, our friends are playing one of those viral personality games where people are compared to animals. Mindy Sutton props her chin on her hand and looks at Julian Payne. "What animal am I?" she asks. Julian doesn't even hesitate before answering, "A cat. You have a bad temper, you're always scratching people, and you love making other people's lives difficult." Mindy is just about to glare at him when he smiles and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "But purebred cats are supposed to be high-maintenance. No matter how much money or patience it takes to keep them happy, they're worth it." The crowd erupts with teasing, saying that isn't an insult, and that Julian is clearly just bragging about having a precious cat. Someone else asks, "What about Celine?" Julian glances at me. For a long moment, he says nothing. "Her? A dog." A friend immediately jumps in to smooth things over, saying, "Right. Celine is like a puppy—warm, cheerful, and always following around the person she loves." Julian lowers his head and chuckles. "No. She's a dog because no matter how many times you chase her away, she keeps coming back. I've blocked her 27 times and called off our weddings three times. At most, she cries for one night, then comes crawling back to me the next day." Everyone at the table bursts into laughter. Before the night ends, a jewelry store delivers two gift boxes. Mindy receives a rare cat's-eye bracelet worth 480 thousand dollars, while I receive a silver dog tag. Engraved on the back of the dog tag are the words, "If lost, please return to Julian Payne." Mindy doubles over with laughter and leans against his shoulder. "Aren't you worried she'll actually run away one day?" Julian fastens the bracelet around her wrist and answers casually, "Dogs are loyal to their owners." I smile too. That night, I place the dog tag on top of the receipt of the cancellation of our fourth wedding. This time, I'm not going back to him.

In my final year of high school, my parents died, leaving me nothing but a crumbling brick house. And yet, I somehow got myself a younger brother. He was a second-year student at our school, at the top of his grade. But no one respected him. Even when he was bullied, the teachers turned a blind eye. Why? Because even if others didn't beat him, his drunken father did it every day, while his cowardly mother never dared to fight back. I dragged him home with all my strength, patched up his wounds, and kept him with me for several days. Later, when his mother was beaten to death, I called the police and had his father arrested. "Hey," I told him, "from now on, live with me. I don't have any family left. Call me sister, and I'll put you through school." He dreamed of getting into a prestigious university. So I dropped out, set up a street stall, sold my own blood, and even took illegal jobs just to support him. When he graduated, he said he wanted to start a business. I gave him every cent of my savings. And then one day, I watched him stand beneath the dazzling lights, a radiant girl at his side, holding a trophy for a youth entrepreneurship award. I looked down at the cancer diagnosis in my hands. A bitter smile tugged at my lips. In the end, I had raised him into someone I could no longer reach. It was time for me to leave the stage.

A month before my wedding, I've discovered a series of suspicious transfers made by my fiancee, Irene Lambert. The recipient is none other than her first love, Blake Chandler—the man she has never truly forgotten. For seven years, she has sent him 50 thousand dollars every month without fail. When I place the bank statements before Irene and demand an explanation, she barely looks up from her work. "Blake injured his right hand saving me. The money is simply compensation for what happened. Don't worry, money's the only thing I'll ever give him," she says evenly. I refuse to let the matter go, but even my friends urge me to overlook it. "It's only 50 thousand dollars. With how wealthy Irene is, she'd consider a watch at that price too cheap to buy for you. As a man, you've got to be the bigger person," they argue. With our wedding only a month away and seven years of history between us, I finally give in. That is, until I discover that our housekeeper, Olivia Harper, prepares a child's meal every afternoon and delivers it to Irene's office. When I confront Olivia, she stares at me in confusion. "Isn't that your child, Mr. Sanford? He's already around five or six years old—and he calls Ms. Lambert 'Mommy'."

On Labor Day, my husband worked himself to death in another woman's bed. Halfway through the funeral, my mother-in-law said to me, "Malcolm's gone, but this family still doesn't have an heir. Clara, you're still young. Have a child with Vincent. The sooner the better." I stared at my brother-in-law in his wheelchair, my mind going blank. "But he's Malcolm's brother." "Better to keep it in the family," Nora Stroud said with a smile. "This is my decision. Even if Malcolm were still alive, he'd listen to me." Something in me snapped, and a quiet laugh slipped out. They wanted an heir, didn't they? Fine. Then my father-in-law could have one.

Sitting here in the courtroom, I watch as my father is put on trial for a crime he didn't commit. He gets a heart attack and dies right before my very eyes. There's nothing I can do to stop it. As my heart burns with anger and resentment, a series of comments suddenly appears, floating in the air in front of me. [Poor Mason! He still has no idea it was his own beloved girlfriend, Christa Lowry, who served as lead counsel and used falsified evidence to incriminate his father.] [Christa teamed up with that scion, Todd Harlow. She sacrificed Mason's dad's life to net her first pot of gold!] Through these comments, I learn the truth. I wipe my tears away, tear up the acceptance letter I just received from the top art school in the country, and throw myself into the legal profession. After 15 years, I've finally been crowned the Grim Reaper of the criminal defense world, having never lost a single case. One day, my assistant comes to my office with a pile of top-secret case files. Christa is facing the death penalty for engaging in international money laundering, and I'm the only one who can save her. In the surveillance footage from the detention center, the once arrogant woman is now kneeling on the floor, begging in despair to be saved. At that very moment, those comments start appearing in my vision again. [Spoiler alert! The most satisfying moment of revenge is about to come!] [That awful woman is so deluded. She thinks that just by offering enough money, Mason will be willing to save her for old times' sake! What a joke.] [Quick! Refuse her, Grim Reaper! Send her to hell!] Reading the comments, I smirk faintly before tossing my pen into the trash. "Tell her I won't take on the case."

After Jacob Locke brings up breaking up with me once again, I don't wait for him to say anything else. I pack up my things and move out on my own, then quietly cut ties with our past. On the first day, I cancel the wedding planner I booked three years ago but kept delaying. On the second day, I turn off the automatic payments for his mother's treatment. I also politely refuse his sister when she reaches out for money. On the third day, I accept my superior's transfer proposal and get ready to settle down in a southern city. The moment I board the plane, I suddenly get curious. Without me, the free housekeeper who hasn't taken a break in the past decade and the always-on ATM, how will Jacob fare? How will he care for his paralyzed mother, deal with his vain sister, and face his precious junior who's the apple of his eye?

My wife's family ran on the old logic: sons mattered, daughters were a tax. They called my five-year-old daughter "the cash drain" to her face. On New Year's Day, my wife told me my daughter was donating a kidney to her cousin. I was about to lose it on every adult in that room when something appeared in the air in front of me, a column of text only I could see: [Is this woman seriously the mother? She says it's a kidney transplant, but she actually wants the kid's heart.] [If I had a mom like that I'd have cut her off years ago.]

My roommate, Katie Lloyd, is a hardcore environmentalist. Even in a hundred-degree heatwave, she locks the AC remote in her drawer. "We're going to sweat in the summer anyway. Just suck it up and consider it your contribution to saving the planet." That night, there isn't a breath of wind outside, and our dorm feels exactly like an oven. My head pounds from the stifling heat as sweat pours down my face. When I try to steal the key, Katie stands on a chair and snips the AC power cord. "Can't you see Mother Nature is running a fever? You're really selfish for making more greenhouse gases." In my last life, this is the exact night the entire school starts hunting me down with insults. Everyone calls me spoiled, claims I have no empathy for nature, and praises Katie for having a sense of mission. In the end, I suffer cardiogenic shock from the heat, without even getting a chance to call an ambulance. Katie weeps on camera, claiming my health failed simply because I eat too much processed junk food. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the very first day of the semester. Katie's dropping the AC remote into her drawer, asking me with tearful eyes, "A little heat won't kill you, right, Jane?" I grab my phone and medical records and head straight for the resident advisor's office. "I'd like to request a single room, please." Anyone else can play the martyr if they want. I'm just looking out for my own life.

Sean Porter and I had planned a romantic getaway to Bali island. Sean had booked a private villa at a resort overlooking the Indian Ocean. We were lying in bed, just about to get intimate, when we heard a rustling in the room. The next second, Serena Vaughn tumbled out of the closet! Terrified, I screamed at her. "How did you get in here?! Don't you know spying on people is illegal?! Get out right now, or I'm calling the cops!" Sean rushed to Serena's side and gently rubbed the angry red mark where she'd banged her shin, his face full of concern. Frowning, he told me to keep it down. "I gave Serena the door code. I'm the one who told her to hide in the closet and watch us. "She's a graduate student specializing in social psychology and romantic relationships. She needs these observations for her thesis. "Can you not overreact like this?" I froze. I couldn't believe Sean would use such a ridiculous excuse just to defend Serena. Suddenly I felt like I needed to rethink our whole relationship.

Lately, Chloe Dunham has been posting photos on social media of late-night meals sent by an anonymous admirer. She was the only single one in our trio of best friends, so I was always the first to like her posts. But whenever I saw the hand-drawn doodles on the meal boxes, I couldn't shake the feeling that they looked exactly like the work of my boyfriend, Jacob Aniston. Chloe once flicked me on the forehead and teased me. "You jealous little thing. Don't go making up stories. The three of us have been friends since we were kids. If Jacob and I were ever going to fall for each other, we'd have gotten together ages ago." I rubbed my forehead and laughed, then let the matter go. That was until the station assigned Jacob and me to cover a typhoon from the front lines, and Chloe insisted on coming along to deliver supplies. Then the levee breached. The three of us ended up stranded atop a swaying communications tower as the floodwaters rose around us. When the water reached our waists, Jacob raised his microphone and faced the camera. He told viewers across the country that this might be his last broadcast. Then he reached out, pulled Chloe in front of the camera, and wrapped the only raincoat around her. "If I have to die, I have no regrets as long as I'm with you. Everyone, you don't need to wait for the next report. Right now, I want to protect the person I care about most." The livestream flooded with messages of congratulations as they held each other and cried. Meanwhile, I huddled in the corner, my lips purple from the cold. I didn't even have the strength to say another word. After the water level finally dropped and the rescue team pulled us to safety, I shook the mud from my clothes and opened the back door of the rescue vehicle. "Don't overthink it. Chloe's physically weaker than you. I was just afraid she'd get hurt," Jacob said.

The whole world knew Lionel Potter was crazy about his wife. He wrote songs just for her, baked desserts for her, and couldn't go three sentences without saying "my wife". But Iris Potter discovered that the same Lionel who loved her as if his life depended on it had cheated. She summoned the system and applied to leave the world. [Understood. The self-exit channel has been activated. In 15 days, you will leave this world. The exit method will be a staged death. The location will be the seaside where you once saved the male lead. Cause of death: suicide by drowning. [Please prepare accordingly for your death.] On the 15th day, Iris arranged everything and staged her departure to look like she had gone into the sea, leaving Lionel behind. Only then did Lionel wake up. He unraveled, nearly losing his mind, consumed by the need to find her.

Shortly after I married Andrew Lorne, my mother-in-law has my husband's widowed sister-in-law move in with us. She wants my husband to bear the responsibility of caring for two families. My husband says he wouldn't be who he is without his elder brother's help, so he won't let his sister-in-law suffer. And so, she and her son steal my home and my husband's love. Meanwhile, my daughter and I are banished to the countryside. On the first day of our banishment, I'm violated and murdered by beggars who barge into the house. … It takes three years for my husband to remember me. He comes to the countryside to take me home. "Come out, Jovana. I'll immediately bring you home as long as you agree to give your property to Tiana as an apology for the things you've done." As soon as the words are out of his mouth, my daughter emerges from the yard, which is overgrown with weeds. She tells him I was dead. He doesn't believe her. He allows his mother to beat my daughter half to death and berates me while he's at it. "How dare you, Jovana! You haven't learned your lesson at all, have you? These dirty tricks are all you know, and you even taught our daughter to lie! It's been years, yet you still can't compare to Tiana!"

My sister and I got into a car crash. My heart was ruptured, and I needed immediate surgery if I were to live. My mother, being the director of her hospital, sent all the doctors to my sister instead, all just to check on her. She barely got hurt. I pleaded and begged for my mother to save me, but impatience got the better of her. She roared, "This isn't the time to take any attention away from your sister! She almost had a bone fracture!" And I died. I remember where it was. It was a freezing operating theater.