Obsessive Regret 단편 소설 & 소설

I married Don Matteo in secret. Every time he fucked his childhood sweetheart, he promised me a real wedding，in front of the Five Families. For five years, Matteo promised me ninety-nine times. And ninety-nine times, he left me at the altar. The first time, Cecilia’s prize-winning show cat died. To comfort her, he postponed the wedding for three months. I stood at the altar alone, eyes red, trying to calm down the family elders. The second time, Cecilia threw a tantrum at a casino and shattered a hundred-million-dollar antique vase. He diverted the private jet meant for their wedding and rushed through the night to clean up her mess. And every time, right before our wedding, his childhood sweetheart would have some kind of emergency. I cried. I screamed. I even held a gun to his head. But Matteo would just pin me against the wall and shut me up with a cold, hard kiss. “She’s just a fuck. You are Mrs. Falcone. Have some goddamn class.” After the ninety-ninth time, I was finally done. I slid the papers across the table. The ink was still wet, the Falcone family seal stamped at the bottom. “Our marriage, our alliance—it’s over.”

Five years into our secret marriage, Alex finally agreed to give me a wedding. But the day before the ceremony, I was the one who called it off. The Castellano Family butler asked me, stunned, "Ma'am, the ceremony is tomorrow. Are you sure you don't want to wait for Mr. Castellano to come home?" I picked up my packed suitcase. My voice came out light, almost relieved. "He isn't coming. Right now he's in a church in New York, saying his vows with his adopted sister."

In my past life, my sister's secret lover says he wants to see a meteor shower. So, she takes all the family bodyguards and drives out to the countryside to create a romantic night under the stars for him. But she doesn't realize that an old enemy she once ruined sees the opening. They break into our home, seeking revenge and planning to wipe out the entire family. My mother throws herself over me to protect me, taking the brunt of the attack. She's critically injured and is barely hanging on. I call my sister again and again, begging her to come home. She eventually returns with the bodyguards, but it's too late. The enemies are caught, but then news comes in from the outskirts—her lover has disappeared, leaving behind a suicide note. In it, he blames me, accusing me of deliberately luring my sister away so that he would suffer at the hands of her enemies. Ultimately, he takes his own life. My sister burns the letter without a flicker of emotion. She says, "Don’t overthink it." Later, the blame falls on her. Our father promises to hand the family business over to me. But after the celebration banquet, my sister murders me in the bedroom. She stares at me with a blank face and snarls, "Someone as cruel as you should've died long ago. It should've been you who died, and the family inheritance should've been mine!" I die with a heart full of rage and disbelief. When I open my eyes again, I hear our enemies breaking down the villa doors.

After Cain called off our mate-bonding ceremony for the ninth time—calling it off for the sake of his childhood sweetheart—the Alpha himself came to the Abel family estate to deliver an apology in person. "We are prepared to offer an additional 300kg of frost iron, three hunting territories west of Silvermoon Forest, and nine forges in the pack compound," he announced. "Consider this reparations for the nine broken betrothals." Before his words even faded, Cain's laughter crackled through the phone speaker. "Dad, is she honestly worth that kind of price? I could toss her a half-rotted beast bone soaked in moonlight and she'd still come crawling. You'd be better off funneling those resources into Lina's beast-training arena." The old Alpha ended the call without a second thought. His golden wolf eyes shifted toward me, heavy with visible unease. The gathered wolves stifled their snickers, their throats rippling with suppressed laughter. Every pair of eyes fixed on me, gleaming with anticipation of the show. They all expected me to swallow the humiliation, just as I always had. After all, every wolf in Silvermoon Pack knew the tale: I, the Abel family daughter, had been pining for Cain, the Alpha King's youngest son, for years. Pathetic and devoted. But I'd endured this exact scene eight times before. I was done with it. And more than that, I was done with him. A beat of silence passed. Then I lifted my gaze, searching the crowd until I found the one face Cain despised most: his older brother, Cass. A slow smile curved my lips. "Whoever I claim as my mate inherits the Alpha title," I said. "Does that promise still stand?"

For another girl, Lex Hamilton—my fiancé of several years—dumped me in the middle of nowhere and left me to fend for myself. Three years later, he showed up with her to bring me back. "It's been three years," he said. "Even a dog would've learned its lesson by now. I did this for your own good. If you don't fix that attitude of yours, don't expect to ever become my wife." They thought I'd crumble. They thought I'd beg, cling to him, and unload all the pain and humiliation I'd carried for the past three years. Instead, I smiled. "Sorry, Mr. Hamilton. I'm already married."

The day Lorenzo got kidnapped by a rival family, I found out I was three months pregnant. I took the million dollars his father offered, and I ran. The next time we met, I looked him in the eye and told him I'd been a mole for the rival family the whole time. He was chained up in a cellar, staring at me through the iron bars utterly despairing. He said he'd kill me himself, and then grind my bones to dust. Seven years later, when I saw him again, there was a beautiful woman on his arm. They were getting married. And I was so far down I had to beg him for a loan. He pulled out a thick stack of bills. Lit it on fire right in front of me. He said he'd rather burn it than give it to some whore feeding another man. He didn't know I was begging because my son was dying. His son too.

I decide to get onboard with the latest trend by custom-ordering a merfolk meant to serve me from AquaGene Corp. On the day Lance arrives at the company, the engineer tells me, "It's highly recommended that you be there in person, Ms. Ross. That way, you'll be able to form the initial bond with him." So, I spend one day standing before the eco-tank. As soon as Lance opens his eyes, he doesn't show any signs of wanting to get close to me. Instead, he merely scrutinizes me coldly before turning his back on me. I comfort myself, thinking that Lance is just shy. But one week later, I realize how wrong I truly am. I pay money because I want to buy a partner who can keep me company forever. Turns out I buy myself the biggest trouble of the century instead.

Seven days before our bonding ceremony, my fiancé, Alpha Cassian Vale, died. The patrol said he had fallen into Deadfall Gorge, where hunters had set silver traps. All they brought back was a bloodstained badge. The elders blamed me for everything. "If he hadn't gone to gather moonflowers for your bonding ceremony, the Alpha would still be alive!" "You're the jinx who brought death to your entire pack, and now you've killed our Alpha too!" Cassian's childhood friend, Vera Holt, sobbed as she crushed an echo stone, releasing a recording of his final words. "Eileen, don't come looking for me. Live a good life." I clutched the badge and went into Deadfall Gorge alone. I searched for three days and nights before a silver spike pierced my abdomen, forcing me to crawl back. On the fourth day, I dragged myself up the cliff, bleeding heavily. The moment I climbed over the stone railing at the cliff's edge, cheers erupted from the woods. Vera ran up to me, clapping and laughing until she cried. "I win! Cassian, she was actually stupid enough to go down there looking for your body!" The crowd parted, and Cassian walked out without a scratch on him. He turned to Vera first, his voice warm and indulgent. "Happy now? No more games after this." Vera hooked a finger under the wolf-fang necklace around her neck and smiled. "Don't I deserve some credit for proving how much she loves you?" "You do." Cassian smiled and nodded. "I was saving it for our bonding night. But if you like it, wear it for now." Only then did he hold out his hand to me. "Surprised? "Vera was upset that you'd stolen me from her. That's why I went along with it this once. "Now that you've passed the test, we'll bond in three days, as planned." I looked at the two of them and finally understood. The fall was fake. The last words were fake. The only real things were my dying she-wolf and the wound in my stomach. I knocked his hand away and hurled the bloodstained badge at his face. "Cassian, I went down into that gorge to repay you for saving my life all those years ago. "Now we're even. The bonding is off."

When Vivienne Carter married Sebastian Cross at twenty-two, everyone said how lucky she was. He was ten years older, a mafia Don with terrifying power in his hands, and yet for three years he doted on her alone. He indulged her in everything, kept her sheltered under his wing, tender and attentive down to the smallest detail. Only in the dead of night did he turn possessive and overpowering, taking without limit, never once relenting even when she begged him through tears. She had always been certain she was the one thing he loved. Then her father died without warning. Drowning in grief, she called him ninety-nine times, and every call was cut off. In an instant, a single photo shattered every illusion she had. On a Paris street softened by dusk, the man she'd loved for three years was bending to hold another woman. That woman, gentle-featured and faintly resembling her, was her cousin.

After I, Rosalie Ricci, was stood up 17 times, the mafia don, Daniel Marino, finally holds the perfect engagement banquet for me. In our second year together, we are ready to get married. But every single time, he has an excuse to hold our engagement off. He says he's busy with work, the timing isn't right yet, or that he isn't quite ready. I never blame him because I love him. I have loved him since our school days. In fact, I have loved him for seven whole years. This is the 18th time. I stand in the banquet hall wearing the gown he personally chose for me and watch as he slips the ring onto my finger. He kisses me with a passionate intensity he has never shown me before. At that moment, I believe that I have finally secured my perfect happiness after waiting seven long years. My happiness only lasts until the guests leave. As I step into the back garden, I see Daniel holding my twin sister, Leah Ricci, in his arms. He says in a hushed voice, "I announced my engagement to Rosalie 18 times. This time, you're finally back." That's when I realize that the engagement banquet that I have longed for is nothing more than a ploy by Daniel to draw Leah back to him. But when I decided to let them be together, Daniel panics.

On the day of the war between the werewolf packs, Blake took me away while I was gravely injured. He had fallen in love with me at first sight, while I had been devoted to my work as a healer and had never paid him much attention. He found a witch to erase my memories with magic, then marked me as his. With all the tenderness in the world, he told me, “Erica, I’ll be faithful to you for the rest of my life.” So I cut myself off from the outside world and stayed in a remote southern pack, devoting myself to being his Luna. For six years, we stood by each other through everything, and nearly everyone knew how deeply he loved me. Until one day, another she-wolf appeared at his side. He forgot his promise, took her side at every turn, and even had a pup with her. At the Full Moon Gathering, the she-wolf showed off the wolf-fang pendant around her neck in open challenge. “Luna, I gave birth to the Alpha’s firstborn son before you did, and Blake even gave me his token. I won.” Blake was angry that she had acted on her own, but he still protected her. “Erica…” I cut him off. “Is that so? If you want him that badly, you can have him.” Blake’s expression changed instantly. What he didn’t know was that I had already recovered all my memories and gotten in touch with my brother, the Alpha King, who had been searching for me for years. Soon, I would leave this place. And I would never come back.

I was the Alpha and Luna’s only daughter, yet I had depression, the illness my mother despised most. Mom took me for a mental health assessment. On the form, I checked “I often feel sad.” She crossed it out right away. “Your dad and I love you so much. Why would you be sad?” I checked “I’m afraid to talk to people.” She frowned again. “You were so outgoing when you were little. Don’t put that.” I didn’t argue. She said I wasn’t sad, so I changed my answer to “Never.” She said I slept just fine, so I erased “I often have trouble sleeping.” By the time we finished, I’d changed almost every answer to the one she wanted. The results came back normal. Mom let out a relieved breath and pulled my coat snug around me. “You scared me, sweetheart. I knew you couldn’t have it. Only Omegas get that illness. You’re stronger than that.” Once we got home, I stopped asking anyone for help. I thought losing me would erase the only flaw in Mom’s perfect life. But Mom, why did you fall apart after I died?

After Caesar Shepherd went overseas with his lover, Florence Lane, about a month passed with no news about Ivy Rivers. Only then did Caesar realize something was wrong. When he had time, he gave his secretary, Morgan, a call. "How's the wound on Ivy's leg? Is she still angry at me for taking her skin for Florence's skin graft?" The opposite side of the line was quiet for a long time. Then, Morgan said softly, "Ms. Rivers was discharged from the hospital and left the residence a month ago." Caesar finally remembered Ivy's eyes full of despair and determination on the day he protected Florence in his arms when the hotel collapsed. That wasn't sorrow. No. That was goodbye.

I used to be a top ballet dancer. The year I was diagnosed with a spinal hemangioma, my boyfriend Julian Blackwood said, "Wherever you go, I go." We'd been together three years. He walked beside me as I went, step by step, from the most luminous dancer on that stage to a woman in a wheelchair. Every time the nerve pain hit and I collapsed, he was the one who lifted me off the floor. Every round of electrostim and acupuncture, he sat in the corridor outside the therapy room and waited for me to come out. Before I got sick, he promised me—the night I finished my final performance of Swan Lake, we'd sign the marriage license. He'd bought tickets for that show three months in advance. I never stood on that stage again. And the marriage license never came up. Until the morning I noticed the collar of his white dress shirt carried a smudge of lipstick that wasn't mine. I heard him on the balcony. A woman's voice on the other end. "Mr. Blackwood, you left your jacket at the hotel last night. I'll bring it over." I stared at that smear of red, and something in me snapped. I laughed. "Send me to Westbrook. The locked-down rehab facility. I don't want to drag you down anymore." Something flickered in his eyes—a brief, animal panic. Then he nodded. He thought I meant rest. He didn't know I'd already signed the papers to donate my body to science. I was going there to die.

I walked in on my husband, Dante Cavallaro, in bed with three women. This time, I didn't shoot any of them in the head as I once would have. I slipped off my wedding ring and tossed it onto the card table. "Fifty thousand says I leave the Cavallaro family today." Everyone bet I wouldn't dare. Five years ago, my family was slaughtered. To pay my father's crushing medical bills, I was forced to sign a contract promising the Cavallaro family a child. I had five years to give them an heir. When I was eight months pregnant, Dante found the contract and decided our marriage had been a setup. In the middle of the fight, he lost control and shoved me down the stairs. I lost the baby and the chance to ever have another. After that, he started bringing home one woman after another. Now he was threatening to cut off my father's oxygen because his new favorite had hurt herself and blamed me. Dante was sure I'd never leave him. I needed his money to keep my father alive. What he didn't know was that the contract had one more clause. I'd bought myself a way out with every port my family owned. "If no heir is born within five years, the woman may end the agreement on her own and leave freely." Today was the last day of those five years.

At 32 weeks pregnant, I was cornered in a baby store by Clara Ward, my mate's childhood sweetheart. She ripped the patch off the side of my neck, pinned me against a shelf, and demanded to know how much longer I planned to hide the mark I'd stolen. When security showed up, I didn't argue. I just asked them to pull the camera footage. When my Alpha mate Leon Blake arrived, someone at the front desk asked which of us was his mate. Leon saw my bleeding hand, but he put his coat around the other woman's shoulders first. "Clara's upset. My mate's identity stays private for now." After two years of waiting for him to acknowledge me, all I got was a cold note in my file that read, "Status pending verification." That day, I started the 28-day treatment to remove his mark. On the last day, I would take my bags and get on a train out of Blackpine pack territory. When Leon signed the papers, he said, "You said you weren't coming back the last two times, too." What he didn't know was that this time, I wouldn't even leave him our child's urn.

When our SAT scores came out, my four childhood friends came over to my house for drinks. Halfway through the night, someone suggested a game of truth or dare. When it was my turn, my stepsister, Selena, dared everyone to show which colleges they planned to apply to. The four of them opened their laptops. Each screen showed an application preview for the University of Alaska. Liam, the childhood friend I'd had a crush on for years, sent me a draft application with my information already filled in and pointed to my SAT score: 1580. "We said we'd be together forever. "You haven't applied early decision to an Ivy yet anyway. So how about it? Do you dare go to the same college as us?" So, in front of everyone, I added the University of Alaska to my application. Amid the whistling, Liam leaned down and kissed me deeply, his answer to my confession. The day my acceptance letter arrived, I took a bag of freshly baked muffins to Liam's house. But from inside, I could hear several of them talking about me with contempt. "Is Catherine really going?" "Of course. I watched her submit the application myself!" "Thanks to Selena, a few fake application pages were enough to get rid of that annoying tagalong." "Come on. If you ask me, Liam has it worst." "Relax, man. This little dating game will be over soon. School starts any day now." I froze, clutching the paper bag. Then the door opened. My four childhood friends came out, with Selena in the middle of them. The moment they saw me, their smiles vanished.

Max Siegel loved me deeply and promised me the grandest wedding anyone had ever seen. However, just three days before the big day, everything changed. The custom-made wedding dress he'd ordered for me was given to his stepsister, Fawn Lewis, and instead, he handed me a pill—one that could erase memories. “Kate,” he said, “I don’t want to hurt you, but Fawn has just been diagnosed with terminal cancer. She doesn’t have long. Her last wish is to marry me. I can’t have her leave this world with regrets. “This pill will make you forget everything about us for a few days. But don’t worry. After the wedding is over, I’ll give you the antidote, and you’ll remember everything again. Then, I’ll give you the wedding you deserve.” His tone left no room for negotiation. Without hesitation, I took the pill and swallowed it. However, what he didn’t know was that I developed that drug myself, and there was no antidote. Three days from now, I would forget the man I loved most—him. And once that happens, there’s no turning back and no chance to start over.

Lucas Morandi and I ran the biggest arms-smuggling network in Sicily. During one deal, we rescued a kidnapped barista named Chloe Bennett. That naive girl fell hopelessly in love with Lucas. She'd wait outside our villa with Italian pastries she'd baked herself. She'd hang around outside the office with coffee she'd made just for him. Lucas always knocked the pastries and coffee into the mud, disgust written all over his face. "Enough with these cheap little gifts. This pathetic domestic fantasy makes me sick." Then, during a bloody raid by a rival family, Chloe's scream gave away our position. I took a sniper's bullet for Lucas and ended up in a deep coma. Lucas hated her for it. He chained her beside my ventilator and grabbed her by the throat, forcing her to beg for forgiveness. Desperate to atone, she grabbed a shard of broken glass and slit her wrist. At the sight, the cold-blooded Don's eyes instantly filled with tears. He gripped the sharp glass with his bare hand, his voice shaking so badly he could barely get the words out. "You think you can escape me by dying? In your dreams!" She collapsed into his arms, sobbing. The man who had sworn he would never marry anyone but me kissed away her tears. I could only lie in that hospital bed and watch helplessly as something inside me died.

I filed to leave Doctors Without Borders a year in advance, just so I could return home, keep my promise, and marry Dennis McMillan. But by the time I got back, Dennis was already a father. I overheard him telling the housekeeper, "Let Anna stay abroad a little longer. Best if she doesn't come back at all. If she finds out I have a son now, she'll definitely cause a scene." It was only then that I understood—he had deceived me. Three years ago, he said to me, "Go spend three years with Doctors Without Borders. Toughen yourself up. Once you are more mature, you'll be ready to be my wife." And I was mature now. I wasn't the same girl who used to break down in tears whenever something went wrong. My tastes had changed too. And now, I wasn't interested in someone like him anymore.