Feel-Good Story Regret Short Stories & Novels

The Blackwood Pack had a rule: no outsider was ever allowed to touch a newborn pureblood pup. So when my fated mate Damon Cross's childhood friend Yvonne Morgan reached for one of their sacred cubs, I stopped her. Yvonne decided I was being petty, that I was trying to humiliate her in front of everyone. So she ran off crying, tripped, and fell into a bog. By the time anyone found her, she was gone. Damon was convinced I'd done it on purpose—that I'd planned to get rid of Yvonne Morgan. He had me bound and locked in that basement dungeon for three days and three nights. Every hour felt like a year. "This is all your fault, you jealous witch. If it weren't for you, Yvonne would still be here!" "You're going to pay for what you did. Rot in there and think about it." I clawed my way out—dug a tunnel with my bare hands. I was so close. The night I finally broke free, Damon gave the order to have me thrown into the No-Man's-Land wolf pit. Then I opened my eyes. I was back. The night of the Full Moon Gala.

My fiancée canceled the five-million-dollar investment I'd made in my best friend's company and replaced it with a five-hundred-dollar transfer. She told me that real friendship shouldn't be measured in money. Three days later, she invested a hundred million dollars in her childhood sweetheart's company at the most expensive hotel in Manhattan, in front of Wall Street investors and the media. Everyone started cheering, telling her she might as well just marry the guy. She didn't stop them. Why would she? She believed that no matter what she did, I'd never leave. What she didn't know was that I owned the core system that generated most of Nexora's profits. I'd spent eight years building Nexora, the company she was so proud of, from the ground up. She also didn't know my last name was Hale. I was the sole heir to Hale Global Group, a conglomerate powerful enough to bankrupt Nexora with a single word.

Six years into our marriage, Matteo Moretti slid a marriage pact across the table to me. My sister's name was at the top. Lucia Belardi, sixteen, unable to speak since birth. The lower-right corner of the document bore the Moretti Family's black seal, and beside it, Matteo's own signature. "The Volkov family has agreed to a ceasefire," Matteo said from behind the wide walnut desk in his study. "Ivan Volkov will marry Lucia. Once the wedding is done, the guns on the northern route will go silent, and our shipments held at the docks will be released." Cold crept into my fingers. "You agreed to hand my sister over to a sadist, just to save Viola?" Three days ago, Viola Conti had publicly humiliated one of the Volkov women at a cocktail party. The Volkovs seized her and threatened that unless the Moretti Family surrendered a girl of equal standing, Viola would disappear for good. "Viola's father took a bullet for me, and she treated over thirty of our men during the dock shootout six years ago." He looked up at me, his black shirt sleeves rolled to the elbows, exposing old scars on his wrists. "The Moretti Family owes her. Lucia will be the wife of the Volkov heir, not a hostage." I slapped him across the face. I picked up the letter opener from his desk, cut through the gold chain, and threw the severed chain onto the marriage pact. On our wedding day six years ago, he had fastened the chain around my neck himself. The pendant bore the Moretti and Belardi names on either side. He had told me that as long as the chain held, we would never be apart. He glanced at the broken chain, a brief crease forming between his brows. "Once this crisis is over, you'll understand. This is the choice that costs us the least." "Matteo, Lucia may be the one you're sending away today, but from this moment on, you're sending me away too."

My fiancé's stepsister, Adina Mercer, claimed to be a messenger of the Moon Goddess, able to relay divine decrees on Her behalf. Because of that, everything in our relationship had to be arranged by her. From when I should go to the hospital after an injury to the brand of protection we used in bed, she decided everything. Today marked the ninety-ninth time Kellan Ashford had skipped our mating ceremony because of something she said, leaving me standing alone at the altar. When I called, his voice was calm as he gave me the same line he always did. "Adina divined it. Today isn't a good day for us to mate. If we force it, we'll put both our lives at risk." I gripped my phone and laughed. "Did she also divine that if you keep refusing to mate with me, your pack will be destroyed?" A beat of stunned silence. Then he softened his tone. "I know you're upset, but there's nothing I can do. It's the Moon Goddess's decree. "Be good. There'll be another auspicious date next month, and I'll definitely mark you then. "Adina hurt her hand. I need to go bandage it for her. Figure out how to explain this to everyone." The call ended. Every wolf in the hall was watching me, waiting for my humiliation. I closed my eyes and let the stillness settle over me. They had no idea that their pack should have been swallowed whole by the far more powerful Mooncrest Pack long ago. I had fallen in love with their Alpha and begged my father to turn a conquest into a marriage alliance. That was the only reason they had known peace. Too bad they didn't appreciate it. Fine, then. Let Mooncrest's claws tear this land apart.

In the ten years I spent helping Dante Moretti secure his position as Don, he never once gave me the title I deserved. The night before our anniversary, I sent him a design for a sapphire brooch, the kind reserved for the Don's own family. Dante's call came through immediately. "Have you forgotten how we clawed our way out of that bloodbath? Stop bringing up frivolous things like this." I quietly agreed and unsent the design, only to catch a glimpse of Dante in the private dining hall, personally pinning a brooch that symbolized the Family's authority onto a girl's gown. "Dante, this is too extravagant... Sapphires are so rare. People will object if you use one to make me a brooch." "You deserve the best. As long as it makes you happy, none of the Family's treasures are a waste." He paused. "Send whatever scraps are left over to Valentina. She's used to roughing it with me. She won't care what she gets." Colette Marino gave a soft laugh. "So Valentina stuck with you through all the suffering, and I get to enjoy the power and glory. Is that it?" Dante didn't deny it. A single low hum crushed every sacrifice I'd made in the past ten years. My nails dug through the design sheet and into my palm, but I felt no pain at all. The butler from the private hall approached with a deferential nod. "Ms. Russo, would you like me to cancel the design order? There's only one sapphire left." "Don't cancel it. If the remaining sapphire isn't enough, use a ruby instead, the Family's one and only."

My father disappeared for seventeen years. The first time he surfaced, it was to offer me fifty thousand dollars for my bone marrow to save the daughter he'd had with his lover. My mother slapped me twice right there, demanding I refuse his dirty money. But I got into the car the Alpha had sent, handprints still burning on my face, and walked into his multimillion-dollar estate. They all thought I was so desperate I'd sell my own blood for cash. That changed when I pointed at the most expensive car in his garage and told my father, "Either restore my name to the Blackwood family registry or give me the car's value in cash: three hundred thousand dollars." "Your daughter needs my bone marrow to survive. My mother needs three hundred thousand dollars to stay alive." "If you can't part with the money, then watch her die." After that, everyone thought all I cared about was money. Only I knew the truth: I was selling my own blood to buy my mother a chance at life.

Synopsis The ink on the $50 million breakup check was barely dry. I walked straight into the clinic, ready to end it. I was still sitting in the waiting room when some translucent words floated right in front of my face. [Oh no. Those are literally the only two kids Julian Brock will ever have!] [That idiot surgeon messed up during the kidney donation. Julian saved his precious ex, but he walked out completely sterile!] [She’s sitting on a multi-trillion-dollar empire and she's about to flush it down the toilet? Is she insane?] I froze right at the door. I turned around and bolted for the exit. Abort? Hell no. Meet my two little golden tickets.

I came back from picking up takeout to find the fingerprint lock on our front door wouldn't recognize me. The passcode had been changed too. I was about to call my boyfriend Lawrence when I remembered he'd just broken up with me. I looked down at myself, wearing nothing but loungewear and slippers, a coffee stain splashed across my shirt. After a moment's thought, I caved again and sent Lawrence an apology. But the red exclamation mark beside it told me he'd already blocked me. This was the ninth time he'd broken up with me, and the ninth time he'd blocked me. I wanted to knock, but my hand rose only to hang in the air for a few seconds before dropping limply to my side. That closed door might as well have shut out my love along with it. Too many breakups. I was tired. Maybe it was time to let it end. Give him what he wanted, and set myself free.

My cousin used my gaming account to start an online relationship with one of my teammates. However, after video calling her, he decided she was too gorgeous to be real. "A girl that hot wouldn't need to date online. She'd have enough guys chasing her to fill a stadium. It's gotta be a face filter. Just go meet her for me, bro. If she's busted in person, I'll actually throw up." In my last life, I turned him down. He was too much of a coward to go himself, so he just sent her a breakup message and called it done. Yet when he later found out that his online girlfriend really was that stunning in person, he turned all his rage on me and shoved me off a building. "If you'd gone to meet her for me back then, I wouldn't have lost her. This is all your fault! You deserve to die!" When I was reborn and he asked me again to meet her on his behalf, I said yes with a smile.

After three years in a long-distance relationship, I went straight to the courthouse as soon as my flight landed, ready to marry Willow Payne. Instead, she showed up holding a newborn baby. Without a trace of guilt, she placed the baby in my arms. "This is Rachel, my daughter with Preston. You can raise her from now on." My mind went blank. Standing beside her, my childhood friend, Preston Webb, burst out laughing. "Willow and I got drunk one night, and one thing led to another. We ended up sleeping together. Your time working out of town is finally over, and now you get to come home and be a dad. Hell of a surprise, right?" I stared at them. "Do you seriously think this is funny?" Preston only grinned wider. "Willow and I made a bet about whether you'd cry when you found out she had my baby. I said you wouldn't. So I won. Willow promised to travel the world with me until I get bored and feel like coming back." Willow gave him an amused look, then turned to me like she was doing me a favor. "My daughter is your daughter, too. Take good care of her. When I get back, I'll marry you." She took Preston's hand and walked away with him. I looked down at the baby in my arms. Her skin and the whites of her eyes were so yellow that even I knew something was wrong. I called after them, but neither one looked back. Three years later, Willow showed up at my workplace. "Michael, I'm here to keep my promise. Let's get married. "But Preston and I have a daughter together. We thought it would be better for her if her parents were legally married, so Preston and I got married. "I can't legally marry you anymore, but I can still give you the wedding." She pulled out a wedding band and reached for my hand, trying to slip it onto my finger. I knocked her hand away and stepped back. "I already have a wedding ring. My wife gave it to me."

My little brother got himself a girlfriend. The moment the news reached them, the whole family lit up. My sister, Serena, clapped so hard her palms cracked. "Who is she? Which lucky girl caught our handsome Tyler's eye?" Mom's face glowed like the credit was hers. "Look who raised him. It was only a matter of time before some girl noticed." Dad couldn't stop grinning. "That's my boy. Good for you, son!" The second they caught Tyler looking embarrassed, they pressed their advantage. "So it's like that, is it? Thanksgiving's almost here. Bring her home. We want to meet her." Then it was my turn, and all they managed were a couple of flat, dutiful lines. "Adrian, you're not as good-looking as your brother, and you've never been quick with words. You're lucky anybody wants you." "So don't be picky. Just lock the wedding in and be done with it." Serena tossed in a joke without even looking up. "Right. Five years, and she still hasn't dumped you — she's even talking marriage. She must be a decent person." They never asked whether my girlfriend was good to me. They never asked whether her parents were decent people. They never once asked to meet her. They just approved the marriage. Not because she was good enough. Because in their eyes, I was worth nothing at all. I let out a slow breath and drank down my tea. It had gone cold a long time ago. If they didn't love me, then I'd go pick a family that did. From now on, we go our separate ways.

For five years, Julian and I had been a secret. We had our own hidden apartment where, night after night, he could not get enough of me, leaving his insanely possessive marks all over my body. Tonight was no different. But the difference today was that before I could even catch my breath, he suddenly asked for the number of Essa, my family's gorgeous maid. "Darling, don't you think it is too boring to stick to just one woman for the rest of your life?" "She has a killer body. I do not want to give up all the thrills out there just for you." I stared into his eyes for a few seconds, then pushed his hand off my chest. I gave a calm nod. Later, when someone asked me who I was into, I casually dropped the name of my sworn enemy: Kian, the heir to the Santoro family. Julian's face instantly darkened, but I could not care less. However, I ended up bringing unexpected trouble to my doorstep. Kian blocked my doorway, a smirk playing on his lips as he asked, "Didn't you say you were into me?" "What a coincidence. I am into you, too."

My wife, Monica, hated the smell of alcohol, so I had never once seen her drink. Not even at the celebration for my succession as Don did she touch a single drop. That changed at a Family banquet, when a party game broke out halfway through. Monica lost. The penalty: sit on the lap of your one true love and share a lovers' toast. Without a second of hesitation, she picked up her glass, settled onto Dillon's lap, and drank it down. The room erupted in cheers, and every pair of eyes turned to me with the same expectation. They were waiting for me to flip the table and storm out. But I just watched Monica in silence, slid the ring off my finger, and placed a set of divorce papers in front of her. "Divorce." My voice was flat. Monica froze for a beat, then let out a scornful laugh. "All because I didn't drink with you?" "Exactly. That's why." I pushed the papers a little closer.

My car broke down on the road, so I took off my jacket, popped the hood, and started checking the problem right there at the curb. A brand new convertible swung in and stopped in front of me, close enough to make a point. My ex-wife Sarah got out on the arm of a man in a tailored suit, one hand clamped over her nose in disgust. "Leo, all these years since the divorce and you're still a bottom-rung mechanic who reeks of motor oil." I wiped the grease off my hands. I could not be bothered to explain that this limited-edition supercar was one I had picked up brand new. When I stayed quiet, Sarah shoved a screenshot of her trading profits in my face. "See that? David got me into a tech stock. One day of gains beats everything you'll make fixing cars in a lifetime!" David Ashford looked down at me, his voice thick with contempt. "Sarah, what's the point of talking investing with a mechanic? He can't even read a price chart. "A mystery fund is buying this stock in batches. I'm already in at four-to-one leverage. I'm about to be set for life." Sarah laughed and threw a few bills onto my open hood. "Here's a tip. Buy yourself a decent coffee and stop cluttering up the view." I looked at the scattered bills, then at the ticker symbol on the screenshot. I knew that one well, and I smiled. That tech company's rally was nothing but a bull trap staged by a fund looking for cover while it unloaded its shares. Anyone still in it would be wiped out. I took out my phone and calmly sent a message to my trader. "We're up thirty percent. Sell it all."

My daughter hated me. On the day of the pack's full moon celebration, I put on the new dress my mate had given me and asked her, "Sweetheart, do I look pretty today?" She leaned against my mate and shook her head in disgust. "Daddy, look. Mommy's waist is so big. She doesn't look pretty at all." When I limited her snacking, she turned around and told my mate I was starving her on purpose. When I made her train on schedule, she cried and said I was trying to wear her out so she wouldn't surpass me when she grew up. My mate, the Alpha, was always busy. At first, he would hold her and soothe her. "All right, Daddy knows." Eventually, all he gave her was an impatient frown. Until the day she accused me of poisoning her in front of the entire pack. My mate's expression finally turned cold. "Enough. I've been putting up with you for far too long." My daughter looked at me triumphantly, certain the Alpha was finally going to send me away. But the next second, my mate pointed at her. "I'm talking about you."

My fiancé, Alpha Theron, was the star player on the pack hockey team. Yet even as his mate, the pack mocked me as a fat pig that had wandered in among wolves. But when he was attacked, I was the one who stepped in front of him. Hockey sticks came down on my back and my shoulders. The pain cut to the bone, and I gritted my teeth and took it. That overweight body everyone despised was the only reason not one blow landed on him. It was also what finally made the old Luna nod and agree to let me marry into the family. But while I lay unconscious from my injuries, Theron announced that he would mark my stepsister Hannah, the cheer captain, instead. Not only that. Hannah posted videos online of the two of us practicing cheer routines together. "Who wants to watch a pig dance sexy? The Alpha had his reasons for turning her down." "Look at all that useless fat. Is that really a wolf?" Then, while the mockery was at its worst, she asked me to forgive her, as if none of it had been on purpose. When my heart was already ash, my father and my stepmother threw me out of the house. "All that fat, clumsy and ugly, and she cannot even hold on to her own mate." "She is that fat and still joined the cheer squad. Now the rest of us get mocked too. How humiliating!" As a rogue, I swallowed every kind of suffering there is. In one year I lost over a hundred pounds and became the brightest cheer sweetheart in the league. Then I turned around and cheered for the most valuable player on the ice. Theron heard about it and came running. He dropped to his knees with red eyes and clung to the hem of my skirt. "You were my love, my mate! What does that idiot who can only swing a stick have that I don't?"

The sales department organized a team-building trip and turned it into a killer-instinct trail race, with a $30,000 prize for the winner. I volunteer with a search and rescue team, and I stayed up all night mapping the safest route with supply points along the way. The new VP they had parachuted in tore up my map right before we set out. "What's the fun in a paved trail? We take the undeveloped Wildman Gorge. That's how you show real killer instinct! "To keep anyone from cheating with GPS, everyone hands over their communication devices." I pointed at the thunderheads on the horizon and tried to stop him. Wildman Gorge floods easily, and going in without radios was suicide. Instead, he smashed my radio to pieces in front of everyone. "You're just jealous that I got to lead this thing, and you want to keep everyone from taking home the prize money, right?" For that $30,000, my coworkers lined up to call me a coward who cared nothing about the team. Fine. I took off my shell jacket and volunteered to stay at base camp at the bottom of the mountain. A storm was coming. If this pack of office wolves wanted to take on a mudslide in Wildman Gorge, I would sit there with a hot cup of tea and wish them a triumphant return.

Right before the syndicate's power handover, I flew back to New York after a year of studying jewelry design in Europe. But the night before the ceremony, my secret boyfriend of three years—the Rossi family's new second-in-command—sent me a text: [Sorry, Chloe. I lost a card game, and you were my chip. You're his problem now.] Before I could even breathe, I got tagged in the family's encrypted dark-web channel. The top thread was blowing up: [The Mafia Boss Just Won a Fat Pig for a Girlfriend!] Pinned right at the top was an old photo of me from a few years ago. Back when I was 180 pounds. The comment section was ruthless: [If the Boss knew what he actually won, he'd regret making that bet.] [I bet a thousand bucks she stays hidden at home. Who's in?] They were all dead sure I wouldn't show up. After all, everyone knew me as the ugly fat girl. The old me would have locked myself in my room and cried, letting my boyfriend walk all over me. But after a year away, he had no idea what kind of surprise I had for him. I had dropped from 180 pounds to a flawless, curve-hugging 105. Model scouts even stopped me on the street to ask if I wanted to walk in Fashion Week. So I checked the betting board, dropped fifty grand on myself showing up on time, and sent my reply: [Fine. I'll play your little game.]

When Celia Moore was dying of liver failure, I signed the living-donor consent form and gave her my right liver lobe, nearly sixty percent of my liver, to save her. The independent evaluation doctor asked me again and again whether anyone had coerced me. Through the glass, I could see Adrian Grant standing at the end of the hallway. He didn't come in. He just stood there, head bowed, reading the critical-condition update Celia had just sent him. I said, "No. This is my choice." That surgery nearly killed me. But on the eve of the wedding ceremony we were finally supposed to have, Adrian was still at Celia's bedside. He didn't leave once all night. I left my wedding ring, the divorce petition, and my attorney's engagement letter in the car that was supposed to take him to our wedding. Then I walked away without waiting for him to look back. The day I was discharged, I signed every document alone. There was no one beside me. Three years later, I walked into the Grant Architecture firm's tenth-anniversary gala with a new face, on the arm of the one competitor he feared most. Adrian crossed the entire ballroom and seized my wrist in a crushing grip, his eyes rimmed an alarming red. "Elena, you're alive?" I smiled, pulled my hand free, and straightened his crooked tie. "Mr. Grant, please don't touch me. My fiance has a temper when he gets jealous." Leon Hart slid his arm around my waist and raised an eyebrow at Adrian with a polite, wordless challenge. Adrian's hand froze in midair, as if he'd just been slapped in front of everyone. I turned and walked away without looking back.

After three years together, my boyfriend, Walker Ashford, proposed. But right after that, he got cold feet. At our wedding photo shoot, Walker buried his face against my best friend Anna Benedict's shoulder. "The way Valentina looks at me freaks me out," he said. At the jewelry shop, he grabbed Anna's hand and refused to let go. None of it made sense. But my future mother-in-law, Judith Ashford, pulled me aside. "Valentina, why not let Anna take your place in the photos? We can put you in later." Walker's sister, Emma Ashford, pushed Anna forward. "She has better taste. Let her pick the ring for you." I swallowed my hurt and watched in silence as they took my wedding photos and picked out my ring for me. Under the lights, the diamonds glittered so brightly they hurt my eyes. I was about to postpone the wedding when I overheard Judith say to my best friend, "Anna, having Walker pretend to get cold feet was a smart move. Otherwise, how could you two have a wedding of your own without Valentina finding out?" Emma curled her lip. "Valentina is an idiot. She believes everything we tell her." Walker sighed and stroked Anna's hair. "Anna is sick. It's her wish to marry me. If Valentina weren't so controlling, I wouldn't have to keep this wedding a secret from her. Anna gets the wedding. Valentina gets the legal marriage. Sounds fair to me." So that was it. Walker had never gotten cold feet. They had made up the whole thing to fool me. I was done with their lies. I decided to return to Florence and take back my life as a mafia princess. "Dad, I'll marry whoever you choose."