Melodramatic Short Stories & Mistress Face Slapping Novels

In the chaotic aftermath of a devastating earthquake, I frantically tore through the rubble in search of my missing daughter. Amidst the panic, my phone rang. To my shock, it was my husband calling me from five years in the future. "Valerie, you have to listen to me carefully," Brent Serrano said. "I am the only one who can save the girl." Without a single shred of doubt, I directed the rescue team straight to the coordinates he detailed. Within minutes of digging, the faint, muffled cries of a child echoed from beneath the heavy concrete slabs. Overjoyed, I sobbed into the receiver, "Thank God, Brent! I found her!" On the other end of the line, Brent let out a soft, distant chuckle. "Good. I'm finally fixing my greatest regret." But when the rescue crew hoisted the massive wall of concrete, the one they pulled from the debris wasn't our daughter. It was Zoe—the daughter of his late best friend's widow, whom Brent had taken under his care. As I stood frozen in horror, he breathed a sigh of relief across the timeline. "In my timeline, Madelin was shattered when Zoe died in this disaster. She had no one left but me, and that was the night we finally crossed the line and fell into each other's arms. "I'm sorry, Valerie. I had to use this call to rewrite history for Madelin. Our daughter is trapped on the opposite side of the mall. Hurry, you can still save her." By the time I raced to the other end of the ruins, Brent's voice returned, brimming with smug pride. "See? Told you she'd be here." I lost my voice, staring down at Juliet's cold, lifeless body. Numb with a grief that swallowed the world, I hung up the phone.

Ten years ago, a fire broke out at my school. I saved four friends, but the flames left me an idiot. The four of them stood beside my hospital bed and cried, swearing they would spend the rest of their lives making it up to me. They were afraid I would get bullied, so they gave up their spots at two of the country's top universities and went to community college with me instead. They were afraid someone would trick me into leaving them, so the other three pushed Joshua Summers to confess his feelings for me. I had once said I envied people who lived in houses that didn't leak, so all four of them saved every cent they had and bought me a house for Joshua and me to live in after we married. Then came the party the night before my wedding to Joshua. When I returned from the bathroom, I heard everyone inside playing a round of Truth. The topic was "Secrets Loretta Doesn't Know." Curious, I pressed my ear to the crack in the door. Calvin Dawson's drunken laughter drifted through. "That little idiot has no idea tomorrow's wedding is actually for Nisha." I froze. After a moment of silence, my sister picked up where he had left off. "Loretta doesn't know that when Josh confessed to her, he only did it to spite Nisha. Who would've guessed she'd say yes? This wedding was supposed to be Nisha's from the start." My best friend's eyes reddened. "If my family hadn't forced me into marriage, I never would've taken Lori's wedding from her. I only want the ceremony. She can keep the title. As long as she's happy, my own happiness can wait until the next life." Joshua's eyes flickered. With a resigned expression, he revealed the final secret. "This morning, I got worked up enough to consider sending Loretta to her death, but I gave up on it in the end. We owe her a life anyway. Let's call this one paid off." I didn't know how long I stood there before I finally stumbled back to my room in a daze. I opened Joshua's bag, and there it was: an opened bottle of pills. My heart shuddered. The happiness I had cherished for ten years had never been anything more than repayment for a debt. Through my tears, I put the pills into my mouth one by one. There was no need to wait for the next life. In this one, I would give them the happiness they wanted.

For six years, everyone in the Vistari family had known the rule: if shots rang out, get me out first. My boyfriend, Leon Vistari, was the head of the family. He'd given that order himself. But at a party held for his ex, Catherine Ricci, the champagne tower collapsed. Glass shattered. Every bodyguard rushed past me to shield her and get her to the emergency exit. The crowd knocked me down. My right hand landed on broken glass. Leon arrived, made sure Catherine was safe, then finally looked down and noticed me sitting in a pool of my own blood. "Catherine has been through a shooting before. Sounds like that make her freeze up." "The doctor said if the cuts had been any deeper, I might never have been able to use a scalpel again." He was quiet for a moment. When he spoke, he didn't sound the least bit sorry. "But you're fine now, aren't you?" Suddenly, I laughed. I didn't shake with fear. I always got through things on my own. Apparently, that meant I deserved to be left behind. Six years ago, he'd ordered everyone to protect me first. Six years later, he'd told them to save another woman instead. That night, I called a number I hadn't contacted in six years. "I'll agree to the arranged marriage." Leon thought I'd keep giving in. This time, I was done. In three days, I would marry his greatest rival—the man he wanted dead more than anyone in the world.

After our engagement, my fiance, Justin Ford, has someone bring a child back from Verdanne and hand him over to me. An email arrives along with the boy. "Nora, I got bored out of my mind in Verdanne and accidentally knocked Cindy up. Since you've always been sweet and obedient, I'm leaving my son with you. Consider it practice. When we come home, you'll be all set to work as our nanny." Without a word, I hand the child over to the butler. Seven years later, all the CEOs stationed overseas return to headquarters to report in. Justin pulls up in a Maybach with a whole entourage, blocking the entrance to the Ford estate where I live. With a cigarette dangling from his lips, he tilts his head and takes off his sunglasses. "Did you miss me that badly? Is that why you're waiting out here?" He takes a drag from his cigarette before continuing, "By the way, Cindy and I got married in Verdanne so we could get our son registered. From now on, you two can treat each other like sisters. Whatever she gets, you'll get too. "The Shaws and the Fords are practically family anyway. You don't care about a piece of paper, do you?" With that, he blows smoke ring after smoke ring into my face, leaving me choking with tears streaming from my eyes. I quickly step back and wipe away the tears. My son's dad is an extremely jealous man who warned me long ago to keep my distance from the younger men in the Ford family. If my husband catches his nephew harassing his wife, all hell will break loose in the Ford family.

To help Sean pay off his high-interest loans, I sold my house. He hugged me tightly, crying, and promised to marry me on next year's Valentine's Day. It happened to be Valentine's Day when I paid off the last of his debt. However, what I saw shattered me—he was in bed with another woman. He arrogantly mocked me: "What are you staring at? You're not much different from her, are you? Go buy some rubbers for us." That's when it hit me—he had lied to me. Later, I agreed to marry the man my parents had chosen for me before they passed away. On the wedding day, Sean and his friends came to mock me: "Ella, do you think that I'll marry you if you just wear a wedding dress and follow me around? You're so shameless!" However, everything changed when the priest announced the exchange of rings. At that moment, as Sean's uncle knelt and placed the ring on my finger, I saw a flash of fear in Sean's eyes.

At my wedding, my CEO wife's male assistant stood up in front of everyone and publicly presented a "year-end report" on their nights together. "Big thanks to Adam for your generosity. Over the past year, your wife and I tried 500 different positions. I successfully earned a 500-thousand-dollar year-end bonus and the right to the wedding night. "Adam, you should keep working hard. Don't feel too bad about only getting a one-dollar 'encouragement award.' "And thank you to all our friends and family for acknowledging me. Tonight, on our wedding night, I'll make sure Julie is thoroughly satisfied." The room fell into a suffocating silence. Even my mother-in-law—who always claimed to love me like her own son—said nothing. Seeing how pale I'd gone, Julie Black spoke with brutal honesty. "I accidentally got pregnant. The guy felt insecure and insisted on coming to the wedding, so I agreed. I was the one who crossed the line. I have to take responsibility." My heart sank into an icy abyss. Only then did I understand the meaning behind the one-dollar "encouragement bonus" Julie had transferred to me the night before. Staring at my wife's unfamiliar face, I made up my mind: I didn't want her anymore.

I'm five months pregnant. One day, I leave the house to do some grocery shopping. As I wait at a red light, I see a woman kiss my husband. I follow them in shock, snapping to my senses when I hear the screeching of a car's brakes. I get into an accident and end up comatose, losing my child in the process. Not only does my husband not care for me, but he even has his lover move in with him proudly. The moment I wake up, they panic.

When Damian was eighteen, he could barely afford a decent dinner. Still, he spent half his first commission on the cheapest silver ring in the store for me. He slid it onto my finger, his expression stern. "Wear this for now. When I have a real name, I'll get you a better one." I laughed at how cheap it was, then hid my hand behind my back and refused to give it back. Later, he did get a name. He was the Moretti family's long-lost heir, the man destined to lead its vast empire. But I never got that better ring. Five years ago, on the night a gang war broke out, I dragged a badly wounded Damian out of the fire. I never made it out myself. When he woke, huge pieces of his memory of me were gone. Cecilia Russo sat beside his hospital bed and told him I had despised him for being poor, betrayed him, and even sold the location of our old safe house to the enemy. She also told him she was the one who had saved him. Five years later, my ghost appeared in the final family trial he had to face. By then, another wedding ring sat on his hand. Cecilia was his wife. When his memories returned, he lost his mind.

After being Nelson Jackson’s devoted simp for five years, Sarah Paterson became pregnant. Just as she was excitedly waiting for him to propose, Nelson had a change of heart when his high school sweetheart returned from studying abroad. Sarah didn't fight to keep the relationship. Instead, she went straight to the hospital, had an abortion, and immediately agreed to the arranged marriage her family had set up with a business partner's son. But Nelson came to regret his decision. He begged Sarah to keep his child, but she only gave him two words in response. "Too late."

After getting tormented by electrical shocks for five years, I've contracted severe brain atrophy. Once the psychiatric hospital kicks me out, I rely on the posts that are recorded in my old Facebook account in order to survive. Rosalie Vaughn, my childhood friend and former girlfriend who has sworn to torture me till I die, takes her rich fiance, Sebastian Crowe, back to the old, rundown complex. The moment she sees me curling up on the moldy couch while clutching my phone tightly, she lets out a scoff. "Oh? Now that you've escaped from the hospital, are you still waiting for some rich woman's text? Weren't you very quick and decisive when you stole my life-saving money back then? Why are you still pretending to be some devoted man?" As soon as Rosalie's voice falls, she snatches my phone from my hands. After keying in the wrong password three times in a row, she chooses to recover my password. The moment she sees the security question, her mocking expression freezes momentarily. The question shows, "Who's the only one I've loved in this life?" I blink hazily, my eyes cloudy and dull. Then, I tug at Rosalie's sleeve. "Miss, do you know who she is? I remember I used to love someone with all my heart, but I think she locked me up in a psychiatric hospital." After that, I turn around and try to scavenge the trash can for a piece of expired bread just so I can offer it to the "nice lady".

The day Brianna Lindt is supposed to meet my adoptive parents, her phone stays off the entire day. Just the night before, she confidently promises that, as their future daughter-in-law, she'll win Mom and Dad over. But even after the server comes in for the sixth time to refill our drinks, I still can't reach her. A few hours later, I stumble upon a new post from Brianna's assistant, Elliot Collins. In the photo, Brianna is surrounded by shopping bags full of high-end gifts as she chats over drinks with his family. The caption reads, "My family's been hounding me to get married, so huge thanks to my boss for coming to the rescue and pretending to be my girlfriend." Brianna finally arrives at the restaurant that evening. "Michael, I'm sorry I'm late. Something urgent came up at work, and I had to deal with it." She takes my ice-cold hand in hers and soothes me in a gentle voice. "Knowing I was meeting Mr. and Mrs. Pearson today made me so nervous last night that I completely forgot to plug in my phone, so it stayed dead all day. Can you reschedule with your parents for another time, please?" We've been together for seven years, yet she can't even tell me the truth. Furthermore, the so-called work emergency is merely pretending to be Elliot's girlfriend so he can get his family off his back. Years of built-up disappointment finally spill over. I gently pull my hand away from hers, slip off my engagement ring, and say, "Let's call off the wedding. You can play his girlfriend for the rest of your life."

Yves Zeller auctioned off his time. He'd built an internal bidding app that opened every Sunday at 8 p.m. Whoever bid the most got to decide how he'd spend his free time the following week. His mother, Diana Zeller, was on there. So was his ex, Yvette Xavier, and his business partner, Caleb Mercer. And me, Jenna Langford. Except I could never afford to win. Because every time I placed a bid, Yvette tripled it. The first time was our daughter, Lucy Zeller's, Parents' Day at preschool. I bid $2000. Yvette offered $6000, with a note saying she wanted James to go to a home design expo with her. Lucy stood outside her classroom, watching the other kids walk in holding their fathers' hands. "Mommy, did someone buy Daddy again?" The second time, Lucy was diagnosed with a congenital heart condition and had to be hospitalized for further evaluation. I bid $10,000 and attached her medical report. The system updated. Yvette had bid $15,000, with her note stating that said she was feeling down and needed company. Yves chose Yvette. The third time, Lucy needed surgery. I'd finally saved up enough in my account to win an entire week of Yves's time. Then a notification appeared on my screen. [Yvette Xavier did not submit a bid. Priority for this week's companionship remains with Yvette Xavier.] I stared at those words until I finally understood. It had never been an auction. The rules were just something Yves had invented to disguise the fact that he would always choose her. Lucy looked up at me. "Mommy, can we just stop wanting Daddy?" My eyes burned as I tapped the button to leave the system.

The night the hurricane made landfall, the emergency alert had barely stopped sounding when my sister-in-law, Brielle Rourke, called again. I listened to her helpless sobbing, then calmly handed the phone to my husband, Caleb Rourke, who was busy boarding up the balcony doors. Whatever she said, he kept agreeing to it. He pulled on a rain jacket and gave me that practiced, guilty look. "Her window's broken, Lena. She's all alone over there. I'll patch it up and I'll be back before the worst of it hits, I promise." Once again, it wasn't a discussion. It was an announcement. Five years of marriage, and every storm had gone exactly the same way. The moment the thunder started, her call came right on schedule. I used to fight about it, but he always said, "My brother died young. Brielle's raising his son by herself. We help when we can." "You're a grown woman, and a strong one. You can look after yourself and our son, right?" The wind split the glass, and the shards opened my calf to the bone. I reached for the baby sweater I'd never finished knitting. Tonight, Caleb, I don't think your son or I need you anymore.

On my wife Christine Stott's birthday, I held a property certificate, hoping to surprise her. I waited until midnight, but she never showed up. Instead, I got a confession. Christine: [I'm pregnant, but the baby isn't yours. I'm sorry...] I stared at those words, reading them over and over. I worked hard for three years to buy this property. I worked overtime until I was vomiting blood, I drank myself into the hospital at business dinners, and I came home every night so exhausted that I would collapse straight into bed. And her? She wiped away all my efforts just by saying the baby was not mine. I called her. She answered quickly. "I'm sorry for what I did to you. I'll give you whatever you want." I took a deep breath and asked, "Anything I want?" "Yes." "Then let's get a divorce. You leave with nothing."

Three months after my baby was born, I found out my husband, Joe, was cheating. The other woman? Hailey. Pregnant and smug. Joe actually got on his knees, begging for a divorce. I said yes. Until I could find a place, Joe's mom, Claudia, let me stay at the house. "Hailey," Claudia said, "you'll handle all the household responsibilities now." Hailey, all fake enthusiasm, chirped, "I'll take good care of this family!" Claudia replied, "Great. You'll start your day at five making breakfast. When Luca's hungry, you'll feed him and change his diapers. Once he's down for a nap, clean the house, grocery shop, and prep lunch. Laundry in the afternoon, tea service mid-day, then bathe Luca and cook dinner. After that, you'll put him to bed." Hailey's face? Priceless.

When I first caught Miles cheating on me, I pinned him down at the entrance whenever he came home every day. I would pull down his pants and spray high-concentration alcohol all over his nether regions. He always went along with it with teary eyes because he knew he had been in the wrong. He would only look at me with a pitiful gaze and coax me to stop. One day, he came home two hours late. I became mad when I smelled the perfume on him. I started taking off his belt forcefully and yelled, “Last time, when you had your fun with one woman, you came home half an hour late. “Now you’re two hours late. Talk! Did you sleep with four?” Even though he apologized to me for the twenty-ninth time, I pushed him away repeatedly. He finally raised his hand to show me the IV mark on the back of it. He snapped and screamed at me, “Enough! I was dying with a high fever, yet you haven’t even asked how I’m doing. You just fly off the handle every single day. When are you going to stop? “Fine, I got drunk and slept with someone once. Big deal. You’re not so innocent yourself. “It’s no wonder you got dragged into an alley at sixteen, stripped, and assaulted. Jenna, you’re a paranoid wreck. You may have even deserved it.” The spray bottle shattered at my feet, and the smell of alcohol caught in my throat. I was speechless. I felt exhausted when I saw his disgusted expression. I did not want this broken relationship any longer.

I'm Roxanne Parker, and I'm currently smashing fire hydrants in a mall while a crowd of onlookers live-streams my rampage online. In less than ten minutes, the news of what I've done skyrockets up the trending topics. The incident catches everyone off guard, and before anyone can intervene, I've already destroyed the fire hydrants on three entire floors within the span of an hour. Once I'm done, I head up to the mall's rooftop to clear my head. When the police surround me, people online and onlookers cheer loudly. I also let out a breath of relief. "You're finally here. I've been waiting for you for a long time." I'm only doing this because, in my previous life, I took the fall for my coworker, Jasmine Powell, and my boyfriend, Callum Fisher. Both of them reported me for stealing gold bars from the bank on the day I was on duty, landing me behind bars. I spent my entire life working myself to the bone, only to have the person closest to me stab me in the back. My parents, Robert Parker and Margot Spencer, had lived their entire lives as law-abiding citizens. Yet, in their twilight years, they were branded as the parents of a criminal, dying with their names dragged through the mud. When the news of their death reached me in prison, I cried until I went blind. The moment I was released, Jasmine and Callum ran me over with a car and took my life. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the very day they accuse me of transferring the bank's gold bars. Since they're capable of fabricating evidence to frame me for theft, I'll create an alibi that will rock the entire city.

I'm happily digging into a hot dog by the roadside when, sure enough, I spot my girlfriend, Jennifer York, in Felix Kenner's latest post. The caption reads, "You make the best medicine." After being stood up by Jennifer so many times, I've long since stopped caring. If anything. I'm starting to think I should break up with her as soon as possible and let the two of them be together.

Ever since I married Seth Jerrell, he never lets me go without. If I mention wanting to see snow, he charters a private jet and flies me to Montreve. If I say I want to keep horses, he buys an entire ranch for me. For Seth, money has always been his way of showing love. Until the day I see him at the docks. He's shirtless, hauling heavy sacks from one cargo pile to another, dust covering his skin. He's crouched beside the stacks, eating a dry flatbread, when a young woman in an apron hurries over from the cafeteria and hands him a bowl of free soup. "Seth, once I've saved enough money, I'll buy you some new clothes. You don't have to keep wearing torn ones." He downs the soup in one go, then smiles. "Then I'll work harder tomorrow and buy you a pair of new shoes," he says, his eyes sparkling with delight. I stand in the shadow of a shipping container, barely keeping myself upright. I can't believe that Seth, the man who effortlessly charms his way through countless business dinners and once bought me an entire office building, is willing to pretend he's struggling just to impress a cafeteria worker. "When I get rich, I'll buy you whatever you want." Those are the exact words he told me when he confessed his feelings to me on a rooftop years ago. I don't confront him. I simply delete his number and block him on every social media platform.

When Adrian Cozner went to a get-together with his fiancée and her friends, Lacey Mirren excused herself, saying she had something to take care of. Two hours passed. She still hadn't come back. Just as he was about to get up and look for her, he overheard her close friends mocking him in Portuguese. "This dumbass doesn't even know he's been cheated on." "Right about now, Lacey and Kevin are probably going at it." "Lacey said Adrian isn't as hung as Kevin. They've been childhood sweethearts. This poor idiot—ha, look at him, we're talking crap right in front of him, and he has no idea. So pathetic." Adrian had just started to stand up, but his body froze, his mind going blank. Right then, Lacey pushed through the door, face flushed, completely satisfied, sweat still glistening on her skin. "Haha, how was it? Isn't sneaking around a thrill? You're something else." "Absolutely. Couldn't get enough."