Melodramatic Short Stories & Mistress Countdown Novels

After confessing 101 times to my childhood sweetheart, Morgan Lambert, he marries his first love, Cassandra White. With my heart in ruins, I leave him behind and marry his younger brother, James Lambert, who has pursued me relentlessly from the start. After marriage, James dotes on me to an extreme. His love is bold and intense. Everyone says I am unbelievably lucky to have married such a devoted man. As Cassandra and I sink into the water together, I can only watch as James dives in recklessly. He struggles through the water toward her, giving her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. I thrash and struggle in desperation, begging him to look at me even once. He never does. His entire focus is on getting her to shore, leaving me behind to be swallowed by the sea. While I am unconscious, I hear him and Morgan fighting violently in the hospital, arguing over who gets to stay by Cassandra's bedside. He roars in anguish, "I sacrificed myself by marrying Elsa so she wouldn't stand in the way of you and Cassie's happiness. Can you at least let me see Cassie once?" That is when I finally understand that none of them has ever loved me. I immediately arrange to fake my death, preparing to vanish from their lives completely. Yet after hearing the news of my so-called death, James—who's always calm—loses control. He pushes Cassandra aside, bends over, and coughs up blood. Overnight, he seems to age decades.

[No matter how carefully you plan, fate can erase everything with a single stroke.] The moment I confirmed that Delilah Carter was cheating on me, that post appeared on my phone. I opened it calmly and scrolled to the comments beneath a thread titled "Unfaithful". Then I added a few lines of my own. [How unbelievable can it be?] [A coworker snapped a casual vacation photo and posted it online. Out of thousands of people in the background, my fiancee and my best friend just happened to end up in the same frame.] [Our wedding is in three days, yet here I am, rushing across the country in the middle of the night to catch them together.] After posting the comment, I locked my phone. The wallpaper display happened to be our wedding portrait. Leaning against the white wall of the hotel corridor, I closed my bloodshot eyes in exhaustion. Only after the intense, frenzied noises inside finally stopped did I raise my hand—still wearing my wedding ring—and knock on the door. "Who is it?" Delilah opened the door wearing a silk camisole. I pushed past her and walked inside. Marcel Graham froze when he saw me, unsure how to react. "Cedric Davenport..." Before he could say anything else, the beautiful Delilah threw herself in front of him. "It was me! I seduced Marcel! Whatever you want to do, take it out on me! Leave him alone!" They clung to each other like tragic lovers facing the end of the world, desperate to hold on to one another. I stood silently in the darkness, my expression vacant, as I breathed in the lingering musky scent in the room. I didn't argue or make a scene. I simply committed the moment to memory. I told myself not to look back or forgive. Then I opened the invitation to Europe that had been sitting untouched in my inbox for months. On the final day before it expired, I accepted. From that moment on, the two things I treasured most—love and friendship—became nothing more than illusions.

On our fourth anniversary as a couple, my boyfriend, Xavier Hillard, takes me and my best friend, Jessica Nielsen, to a barbecue restaurant. The waiter recognizes them and asks with a smile, "Still the usual for you two?" Xavier nods. We're led to a two-seater by the window, and Jessica takes the inner seat. Xavier gives the first piece of meat—a crispy piece of pork belly with no extra condiments—to Jessica. The last piece of meat goes to her too. Meanwhile, I'm placed in an extra seat by the aisle. There isn't even a condiment tray in front of me. When paying the bill, the waiter flips through the membership records, smiles, and says, "Mr. Hillard, Ms. Nielsen, this is your 100th visit tonight. Here's a commemorative grill pan exclusive for you." Engraved on the back of the grill pan is a line of text—"Xavier and Jessica, May We Never Part". I then think back to this date, three years ago. I recall that day. Xavier had been at the hospital keeping me company for my birthday. It turns out that when he disappeared for two hours in the middle of the celebration, it wasn't to go to a company meeting. Jessica traces the engraving with her fingers and smiles, asking, "After you and Wen get married, will our monthly get-togethers continue?" Xavier fastens her scarf for her, then turns to look at me. "Of course it will. Wendy isn't that unreasonable. "Besides, we've known each other for ten years. Even if she has an issue with it, she should be the one to adapt to us." On the way back, I get into the back seat of the car. As Jessica is adjusting the passenger seat to the angle she's used to, the car's GPS suddenly announces, "Now navigating to Jessica's home." I look at my own reflection in the car window, feeling suddenly drained. So, I lower my head and buy a one-way ticket to Londwick that's set to depart in a week. Their ten-year friendship will still stretch on, but my four-year relationship ends here.

Victoria Graham told me we'd have to postpone getting our marriage license again just as I was picking up my fork. Victoria set down her cutlery, her tone as casual as if she were commenting on the weather. "Next time." I took a bite, chewed, and swallowed. "Okay." She glanced at me, then lowered her head and reached for another bite. Before taking it, she looked up at me again. "You're not angry?" I took another bite and answered calmly, "I'm not." We'd been engaged for six months, and this was the 17th time she'd postponed getting our marriage license. She was used to it. So was I. I ate slowly and finished my meal, one mouthful at a time. She didn't touch her food again. After taking my last bite, I got up to clear the dishes. As I passed her, she grabbed my wrist. "Lucas, next Monday. I'll definitely be free next week. We've already had the engagement party anyway. A few more days won't make a difference. Don't worry. I definitely won't stand you up this time." I lowered my gaze to the hand wrapped around my wrist, then looked back at her and smiled. "Okay." Over the past six months, she'd said "next week" 9 times, "definitely" 13 times, and "don't worry" 16 times. Even so, we had still never gotten our marriage license. And next week wouldn't be any different. Because this time, I was the one who was going to stand her up.

I give up being with my family and follow my boyfriend, Leon Burton, to a research institute in the harsh land of Aetheris, just to take care of him. One day, he discovers an asteroid. According to the law in our country, the person who discovers an asteroid holds the right to name it. Without even stopping to think, he says, "I'll name it Phoebe." Everyone is stunned. Naming an asteroid is a significant event, but Leon makes his decision too hastily. The person in charge asked again, "Are you sure you want to name it that?" Leon nods without hesitation. Standing in a corner where no one can see me, I can't stop crying. Only I knew that "Phoebe" is the name of his first love, Phoebe Jones. Wiping away my tears, I call my mother. "Mom, I've decided to marry Nathan. I'm leaving Aetheris."

Maude Ellington's fiance sends a message to his first love before their wedding. "You've always been the one I wanted to marry." With their wedding fast approaching, Maude watches him meticulously plan every detail with his first love in mind. She quietly lets it all go. Because she no longer wants the wedding. And she no longer wants him.

One day, after getting rear-ended outside my office, I, Maeve Dahlman, call out for help, but Austin Cooper, who is simply passing by with Carmen Holt, merely glances at me impatiently, annoyed that I've disrupted their lunch plans. Instead of helping, he has his assistant take me to his private club and lock me in a room, accusing me of being paranoid and dramatic. "I'll give you three days to calm down," he says before walking away and leaving me in isolation. Eventually, I escape and call the police. An ambulance rushes me to the hospital, where doctors diagnose me with a brain injury that requires immediate surgery. I keep calling Austin, only to realize that he has blocked my number. Then, I see Carmen's latest post online, gushing about a romantic luxurious dinner with him. After I'm discharged, I cancel the wedding, destroy all the invitations, and finally call my mother. "Mom," I say, "I've made up my mind. I'm ready to meet him."

We'd planned a dream elopement photoshoot in Montana, but just before the trip, I came down with a severe case of acute gastroenteritis. My fiancé, Wallace Romano, looked at me with concern. "Then we'll all stay home. What's the point of going without our leading lady?" My best friend, Wallace's younger sister, and the rest of our friends all agreed. I thought I'd found my fairy-tale romance and a circle of friends who would stand by me for life. Then, while borrowing Wallace's tablet to watch a show, I accidentally opened a shared cloud album. The latest photo showed Wallace passionately kissing his ex-girlfriend, Emma Berry, beneath enormous flags in the Alps. All the friends who'd insisted they couldn't enjoy the trip without me were right there, cheering them on. "Wallace and Emma finally got their happy ending. Talk about a perfect romantic finale." "Without Miley around to ruin the mood, Emma has been so much happier." "She probably still thinks we're all staying home. We didn't even book her a plane ticket. Emma's the one who got one." "And that stomach bug? Apparently, Wallace left a glass of juice sitting out for two days just so she'd drink it." Their familiar voices washed over me, and my blood ran cold. If I wasn't the leading lady in Wallace's love story, it was time for me to find a leading man of my own.

Ruby Monroe's memory resets every three months, back to the day she hates me the most. She breaks my hand again and again to get revenge for her adopted son, Ricky Smith. She also loses her memories again and again after proposing to me beneath a sky full of fireflies. I live through our story over and over, waiting for the day she finally remembers everything. Until one day, I accidentally overhear her talking to her friends. "Ruby, how long are you going to keep this act up? Only a fool like Ricky would believe you really lost your memory. Every time, he gets down on his knees and begs us to play along with him, dreaming that he'll marry you. "In three days, you're going to fake losing your memory again, right? How many times has it been now?" "Nine times." Ruby's cold voice comes through the door. "His food gave Ricky food poisoning and ruined his coming-of-age ceremony. He should be punished!" She pats Ricky's head. "Nobody bullies Ricky!" My heart breaks when I hear her gentle yet cruel words. I never expect that all my years of waiting are just part of her revenge. I wipe away my tears and summon the system. "Cancel our previous deal. In three days, declare this mission a failure and erase all my memories of Ruby."

Three years after remarrying her childhood sweetheart, Greg Gilliam, Kathleen Whelan attends a casual alumni get-together. There, she overhears a secret about her husband. Rita Elway, once the prettiest woman on campus, has clearly had too much to drink. When someone asks about the wildest thing she's ever done, she swirls her glass. Her eyes are glassy, and there's a taunting edge to her voice. "Being Greg's other woman, obviously! And his wife is so stupid, she actually thinks we broke things off. I had his baby, I live in his mansion, drive one of his prized supercars, spend his money, and even have his family's staff waiting on me!" The room goes dead silent. Every eye turns to Kathleen. After all, she's Greg's wife, and everyone is waiting for her to lose it. But Kathleen doesn't cry or make a scene. When a server comes by to refill her glass, she simply says, "Thank you," as calmly as ever.

In my seven years of my marriage with the Regent, I had risked my life bearing him five children. Every single one had died. My husband grieved so deeply that he collapsed. He knelt for three days and nights before the chapel in the bitter cold, praying for my well-being. He even spent a fortune to build a memorial tower in my honor. Everyone said the Regent loved his wife more than life itself. But the System's childbearing progress remained stuck at 90%. Then came All Hallows' Eve. I walked to the river alone to float a memorial candle for my fifth child, who had only just passed. What I found instead were four children carrying turnip lanterns, gathered around my half-sister, tugging at her skirts. "Mommy! Daddy said he's lighting a bonfire tonight!" Alaric Montague stood behind her, arms looped around her waist. His expression carried the same tenderness I knew so well. Even my father, as stern as he had always been, was chuckling beside them, more relaxed than I had ever seen him. My mother held a swaddled infant nearby, wiping the corner of the smallest child's mouth. "Odette is too frail to carry children. Thank goodness Alaric came up with a way to swap them." "Watch your words, Mrs. Devereaux," Alaric cut in at once, his gaze turning cold. "Laurel owed this to Odette. The debt is paid. I'll let her keep the next one." I bit down on my lip hard enough to taste blood. In my mind, an electronic tone stirred to life after years of silence. [Laurel, five registered offspring detected alive. Childbearing mission for the heirless Regent is complete.] [Portal activation imminent. Confirm departure?]

In the third year of Alex Shaw and Eva Laurent's marriage, her sister-in-law dies in an accident. After her younger brother, Hugh Laurent, returns to the country with his son, Eva decides to name the child her heir. Alex assumes Eva did it out of concern for Hugh, so he goes to her office to discuss the arrangements. Unexpectedly, he overhears her arguing with her best friend, Celia Inman. Celia says, "Eva, you're already married! It's one thing to bring Hugh and his son home without considering Alex's feelings, but now you want to make that child your heir? Have you ever thought about Alex at all? "Hugh is an adopted son of the Laurent family. He's not even your biological younger brother. You really don't have to go this far for him." Eva glances at the little boy sleeping peacefully in her arms. In a gentle voice, she says, "This is Hugh's only son. I have to give him the best so Hugh can feel at ease. Besides, this is my son, too." Hearing those words, Alex freezes in the doorway. It feels as though someone has struck him hard over the head, leaving him with an excruciating headache. The boy everyone thinks is Eva's nephew is actually her son!

Every time my husband cheated, he gave me a bracelet. I collected 99 bracelets in four years of marriage—I forgave him 99 times. He was away on a business trip for three days lately. When he came back, he brought home a rare bracelet worth Ten Million Dollars. That was when I knew it was time to ask for a divorce.

On the day of our graduation trip, my girlfriend suddenly went silent for half an hour. I didn't hear from her until just before I went through security. "Nicholas, you go ahead and board. Blake and I got upgraded to first class at the last minute. You know his back isn't great. He'll be uncomfortable in economy." Blake Walker was my younger brother in name, and every trip was the same. Whether we flew or took the train, Tiffany Spencer always made sure he got a first-class or business-class seat, while I was left squeezed into economy or a regular train seat. Even our carefully planned trip to the northern coast had been changed to a beach resort in the south simply because Blake casually mentioned that he liked the ocean. After two hours in economy, my back was aching badly, so I finally texted Tiffany. [I want to sit with you two.] Her reply was cold. Tiffany: [We'll be there in another hour. First class is expensive. Don't waste the money.] When we landed, the two of them were nowhere to be found. Tiffany explained over the phone. "Blake's hungry. I'm going to grab something to eat with him first. Come over once you've gotten everything sorted out." Then she told me to book the return flights. "Book our return flights. Two first-class tickets and one economy ticket. Don't forget." I tightened my grip on my phone and quietly said, "Okay." Then I bought three tickets. Two first-class tickets were bound for Kensford, while the third was bound for Aldmere, Loravia.

A serial killer who had been on the run for five years kidnapped my son, Fraser Robertson. A time bomb was strapped to his body. With only ten minutes left, the kidnapper gave us a final warning. "Get your forensic pathologist husband here now, or I'll blow up your only son." My mother, Daphne Vanderbilt, used every connection she had to send the city's SWAT team to the scene, ready to storm the building. My husband's parents, Walter and Helen Robertson, offered up their entire fortune to negotiate with the kidnapper and buy Fraser's freedom. I desperately called my husband, Sebastian Robertson, over and over. It took more than a dozen calls before he finally answered. But after hearing what happened, he said seriously, "Fiona, someone broke into Nancy's house. I'll stay with her until the police arrive, then I'll come straight to you. Don't worry. The kidnapper wants me. They won't hurt Fraser." Then I heard Nancy Lightfoot's frightened voice through the phone. "Sebastian, I'm so scared..." The call ended. Time slowly passed. Now there were only ten seconds left. I stared at the countdown on the bomb in despair. Sebastian wasn't going to make it in time to save Fraser.

After my wife's sixth pregnancy ends in another stillbirth, I am so devastated that I lose over 20 pounds. Hannah Leywood is weak herself, but she stays by my side day and night, telling everyone she is simply unlucky and can't keep her children. I go to the county records office to get a death certificate for our sixth child, but I find Hannah and my adoptive brother, Cody Shale, there with a baby in a stroller. They are registering the child together. The clerk checks the records and smiles. "Six kids? You two really love having babies." Hannah expertly mixes a bottle of formula. "My husband loves kids, and we can afford to raise them. We'll take care of whatever expenses that come with it." My mom, Pamela Kent, holds a pair of twins and speaks softly. "Thank goodness Alan never complains and can handle anything. He takes care of you after all six pregnancies. "Cody has always been in poor health and can't have children of his own. Alan has to make this sacrifice." My older sister, Margot Shale, holds a young boy in each hand. Her voice is icy. "What sacrifice? Alan was the one who pushed Cody into a frozen lake and left him unable to have children. "These six kids are how he repays Cody." My best friend, Fred Lowe, nods as he ties the oldest boy's shoelaces. "Besides, Alan's marriage to Hannah is a lie. If those six kids are raised as his, they're illegitimate. "Cody is much better suited to be their dad." A chill runs through my entire body. The babies are alive. For eight years, I had grieved six dead children and gone gray at the temples, only to finally realize that they had used me to give Cody the family he wanted. Hatred consumes me, and the system that has been silent for so long finally speaks. [Six children registered under the host have been confirmed alive. The reproduction mission is complete.] [Do you wish to leave this world?]

I can see flowers blossoming around a person when they fall in love. The stronger their love, the more beautiful the flowers. When Ann Liston proposed to me when I was 22, 99 white camellias had blossomed around my feet, stretching down the whole street. Seven years later, the flowers began to wither. Even so, she insisted that love always fades anyway, whereas companionship and responsibility were far more precious. That was why she no longer sneaked kisses when I'm asleep, but still came home punctually every day. That was why she no longer prepared surprises for me, but added my name into every estate. Even if work was busy, she'd spare a whole day for me every month. I was convinced that this was the ideal form of marriage too. Until three months ago, when she was caught in an avalanche in the mountains. It was the rescue team medic Martin Irwin who dug through layers of snow to reach her, carrying her down the mountains on his back when she was barely breathing. Once she made a full recovery, she spent $3,000,000 setting up a fund for rescuers, claiming that it was to repay her life debt to Martin. I never thought much of it…until our seventh wedding anniversary. We were once again in the restaurant where we had our first date on our anniversary. Halfway through it, Martin came to our table. Dressed casually, he smiled, "What a coincidence, Ms. Liston." Ann stood up, politely shaking his hand with a calm expression and demure mannerisms. In a split second, countless roses bloomed wildly around her feet, covering every inch of the restaurant. They were so much more radiant than the white camellias that had bloomed for me.

After Poppy Steele, the heiress of the Steele family, loses her sight, my brother, Trevor Nott, breaks off their engagement and moves abroad. Left with no other choice, my parents ask me—their adopted son—to replace Trevor as a form of compensation. I take meticulous care of her for five years until she regains her sight. Just as she is about to marry me, Trevor appears at the wedding holding a bouquet of flowers, gets down on one knee, and confesses his love to her. The usually aloof Poppy bursts into tears. She throws away her wedding ring and runs to him, asking why he has only shown up now. I instantly become the laughingstock. I don't make a fuss, though. I change out of my suit and let them have the wedding. Poppy praises me for being sensible, claiming her recent actions are just for show. She promises that I will always be her fiance. I smile without saying anything and quietly book a flight abroad. She doesn't know yet that my care for her is nothing more than a deal. Now that her old flame is back, it's time for me to live my own life.

My husband, Lawrence Schwartz, and I were both liars. He lied to me, saying he would forget his first love, yet his phone is filled with photos of her. I lied to him, saying I would never leave, while secretly planning a future without him. A month ago, I tricked Lawrence into signing the divorce papers. Today was the final day to complete the entire divorce process.. Three hours left. I packed all my luggage and bought a plane ticket for the next day. Two hours left. I cut up every photo of us together, leaving only myself in the album. Last hour. I thought about leaving a message, then decided against it. Today marked the tenth year I had loved him and the first day I left him.

When Adrian Hale chose Rosalie Quinn for the tenth time, I was hanging helplessly over the cliff’s edge. He clutched a rope in one hand, the web between his thumb and forefinger worn raw and bloody. Rosalie was sobbing so hard she could barely breathe. “Adrian, I’m scared…” He hesitated for only a second before pulling out a dagger and cutting through the rope on my side. “Clara, hold on. I’ll come back for you after I save Rosalie.” The system counted down in my ear. [The tenth abandonment has been confirmed.] [Life countdown: zero.] Before I fell, I didn’t wait for him to turn around like I had the previous nine times. I only smiled at him. “Adrian Hale, we’re even now.”