Mga Maiikling Kuwento at Nobelang Bias Romance Crime

On the fifth year of our hidden marriage, I died on the operating table of a hospital belonging to Allen Jones. Before I died, I called him ninety-nine times, begging for help. The last time, he finally answered. His voice was heavy with impatience. "Enough already. First, it's pregnancy, now it's liver cancer. Can you stop making a scene? I'm exhausted from work. "Mia, when did you learn to lie? Do you know how disgusting you are right now? "I'm warning you—if you keep this up, I'll divorce you. Don't even think about coming back home until you admit you're wrong." But this time, I could never go back. Just before the call ended, I heard him comforting Sadie with a gentleness he had never shown me. "Don't be afraid. The surgery will be over soon, and you'll be fine. Once you're out, I'll take you to see your favorite movie and eat at your favorite restaurant. I promised you, and I'll make it all come true." After he hung up, I called him for the hundredth time. He didn't answer. Later, when Allen saw my body on the operating table, he broke down completely.

I discover Quilton Fuller's affair before our wedding, so I lie to him about having aborted our child. He hates me for that and gets engaged to a woman who looks just like me. On his wedding day, he video-calls me, wanting to show me his bride. However, he's greeted by the sight of me bloody and battered after being tormented by abductors. I beg him to at least save the baby in my womb, but he says to the abductors, "You'd better kill her and her child."

After Cynthia Musich causes a surgical accident, my husband of eight years, Xavier Goodwin, forces me to take the fall for her. "Being suspended won't have any effect on you, but Cynthia's just starting out! Leaving a mark on her record this early in her career will ruin her!" The accident victim's family cause a scene and stab me thrice in my pregnant belly. I call Xavier and beg him to save me, but he says coldly, "Cynthia was stabbed, and her life is at stake, so can you please stop making trouble? Just come out on your own." Later, when my dead body is brought to his department, Xavier loses his mind.

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

As my due date approaches, my husband's precious mistress falls into the water at a banquet. After being rescued, she immediately accuses me of pushing her. To "avenge" her, he throws me into a modified stainless steel water tank. I beg him, pleading for the sake of our unborn children. But he only sneers. "Don't try to use the babies to guilt me! You've still got a week before you're due. I know exactly how vicious you are—any child of yours would be just as rotten. Stay in there and reflect on your behavior. I'll let you out when you finally admit you're wrong!" Five days later, my husband returns home from a night out with his mistress, calling for me to come downstairs and serve them, as always. He doesn't know that my babies and I have already rotted beyond recognition.

A fierce storm erupts on a mountain peak at 25,561 feet, trapping me in the mountain camp under heavy snow. My husband, the leader of the mountain excursion squad, ignores my desperate pleas and hands the last oxygen tank to his beloved true love. "You're a professional climber—you won't die from missing a few breaths," he snaps. "Olivia has always been frail. Without oxygen, she's done for!" I watch as the two of them lean on each other, making their way down the cliffside, and I fall into complete despair. He's already forgotten that my body hasn't been able to survive without oxygen at high altitudes since saving him two years ago.

As Zayla Scott, my husband's first love, pushes me down the stairs, he's in the kitchen, thoughtfully making her a warm drink. When she sees I survived, she hires someone to assault me and has me thrown into the bear enclosure at the zoo. It's only after the bears tore me apart that my husband finally remembers I exist. "All I did was refuse to take time off to pay my respects to your mother with you. How could you be so cruel, Joey? You're a zookeeper—it's your job! Why would you force Zayla, who's pregnant, to care for savage creatures? "Get over here and give Zayla a blood transfusion right now, or I'll dig up your mother's grave myself!" He doesn't know that all that's left of me is my broken body.

I loved Stella for five years, and we were even engaged. However, she never helped when my grandfather was dying, all because the adopted son of my family suggested that she should use the opportunity to put me through adversity—so that I would toughen up. After my grandfather died helplessly, I toughened up just as she hoped for, no longer relying on her for everything. Naturally, I no longer loved her anymore either.

Three days before my wedding, my younger sister staged a scene—one where I supposedly abandoned her in the mountains. She claimed I locked her in a cabin, left her to be nearly assaulted, and that she barely escaped with her life. Furious, my fiancé dragged me up the mountain and locked me in that same cabin. He said, "Wendy, a woman as vicious as you won't learn her lesson without punishment. I already told you I'd marry you. Why go after Chloe? Since you're so desperate to climb your way up, you can stay here until the wedding day." I begged him, over and over, but my scorched throat could only force out hoarse, grating sounds. Three days later, Mickey O'Brien stood at the altar in his suit, waiting for me. What he got instead was my remains.

Three years after I died, Stella, my wife, decided to divorce me and marry her dying ex. She stormed into my old house like she owned the place, forcing me to sign the divorce agreement. Mom told her the truth—I was already gone. Stella rolled her eyes. "Why's he still pretending? Harvey's dying. I just wanna be there for him. What's so wrong about that? If he won't come out, I'm done paying your medical bills." She thought threatening Mom would shake something loose. But what Stella didn't get? Mom had already stopped treatment. She was just hanging on to watch her crack.

When I was eight months pregnant, my husband's foster sister invited me to hike a snow-covered mountain. Midway up, an avalanche hit. We were both buried. My husband rushed to the scene, but before I could utter a word, his sister accused me: "She planned this! She tricked me into coming today!" I tried desperately to explain. He didn't listen. Instead, he lashed out at me. "Sandra doesn't know any better, but you should! So what if she's blunt? Is this your petty revenge? Your pathetic life couldn't even begin to repay hers if she'd been hurt!" Then he left. Took her hand. Walked away. I screamed after him, begging him to save our baby. He didn't even glance back. Worse, he unhooked my safety harness and shoved me out of the rescue group. "Since you're so clever, find your own way down." Not long after, another avalanche hit. This time, I couldn't get back up. Three hours later, Sandra was in a car accident. She needed a blood transfusion. That's when he finally thought of me. But by then, he didn't know—I was already gone. Me, and the child I'd never hold, were still buried under the snow.

There is a medical dispute at the hospital. A patient's family member comes at us swinging a knife. Without hesitating, I push my husband, Maxwell Conner, out of the way. But then, he grabs my hand and pulls me in front of his beloved junior, Karina Burton. The knife plunges straight into my abdomen, killing the baby I had just conceived. As my horrified colleagues cry and rush me toward the ICU, Maxwell violently pulls me off the gurney. He barks, "Save Karina first! If anything happens to her, I'll fire every last one of you!" The doctors are stunned and furious. "Maxwell, have you lost your mind? Karina only suffered a minor injury. Your wife is the one in critical condition!" Clutching my bleeding abdomen, I nod slowly. "It's fine. Just forget it." Maxwell, I owe you nothing after this.

Just as my wealthy boyfriend and I were talking about getting married, his mother dismissed me as an unrefined girl and demanded I attend a finishing school to learn how to be a proper wife. Looking at Zach’s pleading gaze, I gave in. I endured relentless psychological and physical torment for three months. However, on the day I was discharged, I overheard a phone call between Zach and his friend. “Zach, if you don’t want to marry Cathy, why didn’t you just tell her? Why did you have to send her to that hellhole to suffer? That finishing school your family runs is a freaking torture chamber. Constant beatings, electric shocks, forced kneeling for hours… No one comes out of there the same.” “You don’t get it. Jen is about to get engaged, and I can’t risk Cathy ruining it. As long as Jen is happy, I don’t care who I marry. Cathy grew up poor, so she can endure a little hardship. Three months of hardship for a lifetime of Stein money is a fair trade.” My vision blurred with tears when I heard those cruel words from his mouth. I thought. “Zach, since you loved Jenna so much, why did you have to toy with my feelings?”

When the Irwins were on the brink of bankruptcy, I proposed a marriage of convenience to Ryan and saved them from collapse. Ever the playboy, Ryan was so grateful that he swore eternal loyalty to me, even getting a vasectomy immediately to prove his devotion. He took me across mountains and rivers, saying he wanted to etch our love into every corner of the world. Three years later, he got me drunk, stole my phone, and used it to infiltrate the Knights’ estate. That night, he orchestrated the complete downfall of my family’s legacy. My parents overdosed on sleeping pills. My sister was dragged into an alley by his men, violated, filmed, and the footage was auctioned off to amuse wealthy heirs. I begged him to let my family go. However, he gripped my face and forced me to watch as my parents were cremated. “You think marrying me back then was some noble sacrifice? Sure, the whole city praised your family for helping mine in our darkest hour. But what did they say about me? “They call me your lapdog, Lily!” Ryan destroyed the Knights to prove he was better than us and not anyone’s dog. He tore up the divorce papers and shoved the shreds into my mouth. Ryan wanted me to watch as he rose to power and made the world kneel before him. To humiliate me, he brought home a different woman every night, turning our house into a hotel while I served them. “What’s the Knights’ worth now? With your status, cooking for them and massaging their feet like this is only fitting.” It didn’t matter. When I saved him from that avalanche, a shard of stone slashed my heart. Now, I only have three days left to live.

I lose my memory and wander the streets, surviving on scraps and the kindness of strangers. Then, Miles Blackwood from the Institute of Medical Research finds me and takes me in. He tells me that I'm his long-lost fiancee who ran away years ago, and that he's spent every ounce of energy searching for me ever since. As I'm frail and riddled with illness, he watches over me as I take my medication every day, tracing the scar on my lower back with a strange, tender affection. But everything shatters the day I regain my memory. I accidentally overhear Miles speaking to a friend. "Miles, you forcibly removed Cassidy's kidney for Claudia back then. That was what caused her to lose her memories. And in the end, you let Claudia take all the credit for the research. "Now, after Cassidy's been suffering out there for years, you're bringing her back just to use her for the artificial kidney project? Aren't you worried that she'll regain her memories?" Miles scoffs. "She's incredibly grateful to me now. Besides, she's just a sickly woman. So what if she finds out? As long as we succeed in the research on artificial kidneys, Claudia will become the star of the medical world. As for Cassidy? She'll have made her contribution to the medical field." A cold chill rushes through me in an instant—I am Cassidy.

When my dad died, my husband was at the airport—picking up another girl. She looked like me. Only difference? He actually loved her. I was just the stand-in. Three years of marriage? It cost me my dad... and every last shred of self-respect. But at least I finally saw him for who he was. I left the country in a soaked dress. That's when it hit him—what it really meant to lose. "Emily, I was wrong!" "Daniel Wilson, it's too late." Stand-ins don't get love. They get a new beginning.

After three years of courtship, Noah Howell finally agrees to marry me. However, on the day of our marriage, he abandons me on the altar in pursuit of his dream girl, Isabella Dawson. Furthermore, due to Isabella's baseless accusation, I end up in the sanitarium. While I suffer unimaginable torture in the sanitarium, Noah and Isabella are enjoying themselves out there, living the time of their life. By the time he remembers to bring me home, I'm already a broken soul. Later on, Noah begs me on his knees, his face full of tears. "Sadie, look! It's me, Noah!" With a sneer, I ask, "Who's Sadie?"

Jack Cooke—my husband, who'd never so much as scrambled an egg—suddenly went full kitchen freak. He bought a ton of pots and spatulas, then spent all day just... polishing them. When I called him out, he shrugged. "I like things clean. That a crime now?" Behind him? A mountain of dirty socks. Then it got weirder. He dragged all the kitchen stuff into our bedroom. At night, he'd get weird with a dishcloth. Like, disturbingly weird. I was done. I asked for a divorce. Jack stormed into a private dining room and shredded the papers right in front of our investors. "You're seriously ending our marriage over this? Kinda dramatic, don't you think?" I didn’t blink. “I gave up my spot for your pots and pans. A little thanks wouldn’t kill you.”

My wife's first love kills me without a shred of mercy. But my wife, a world-class surgeon, doesn't try to save me. Instead, she comforts her first love. "He's so ruthless! How could he hurt you this badly?" She even tells the police that I've severely injured her first love, claiming she wants to press charges for attempted murder. Then she points at my body and demands that I get up and apologize to her first love. "Charles, stop pretending! You just want me to pity you, right? Get up and apologize to Steven!" she yells.

When my son suffered a heart attack in the middle of the night, I rushed him to the hospital where my wife worked. Instead of taking charge herself, she handed the operation to an intern. "New doctors need opportunities to learn. I'll be right there supervising. Nothing will happen." But before the surgery even began, a phone call pulled her away, leaving a trembling Marvin Vance alone in the operating room. My son never made it off the operating table. I collapsed in the hallway, sobbing in grief. Yet I overheard my wife gently comforting Marvin. "For your first surgery, you held on this long. You've done an amazing job, my little cinnamon roll." Awkwardly copying trendy slang younger people used online, she reassured him with endless patience. Then she turned to me with a cold expression and demanded that I sign a letter forgiving Marvin. "He has his whole future ahead of him. You can't destroy his life." I tore the document to pieces and threatened to call the police and expose what had happened. In response, she arranged for a medical donation and had my son's body dissected that very night. Driven insane by grief, I threw myself from a building while clutching my son's ashes. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day of my son's surgery. This time, I immediately contacted my parents and transferred him to another hospital. But that night, they still dissected a child.