Cerita Pendek Melodramatic Romance & Novel Bias Face Slapping

When the property manager calls me, I'm in the middle of picking out the curtains for my new home while sitting behind my desk. "Ms. Grant, the moving truck hired by your partner is stuck in the underground garage of the apartment. Do you need help dealing with this incident?" My hand, which is clutching the mouse, freezes at that moment. I haven't even received my keys to my new place. How can I possibly be moving my things there now? "But Matthew showed up with the permission slip that you signed and claimed the keys. Right now, he's carrying the bed into the master suite. "He told me that you've given him permission to let your relative, Ms. Rosalie Sullivan, and her child move into the apartment." Rosalie Sullivan. That name makes my head buzz loudly. I have practically worked myself to the bone for ten years to secure the internal allocation that got me this subsidized apartment in the city center. In fact, I've only received the notification that I'll be receiving this apartment yesterday. To think that Matthew Lowe actually has the audacity to receive the keys behind my back and give the apartment to someone else! As for Rosalie, she's the poor widow left behind by Matthew's best friend. She and her child are also the very same people whom I've personally supported out of my pocket and looked after for three years. I clutch my phone tightly at that moment.

I always had a weakness for handsome men, so I camped out online to grab one of the very first AI incubi. The brand's whole pitch was seduction tuned a hundred percent to its owner's taste. But every time I got within ten minutes of Lucien Crane, he'd force-start a system cleaning cycle, go dark, and idle out. "Master, please don't overuse me. Bacteria buildup can cause a malfunction." Left unsatisfied every single time, I finally went to customer service, and the rep looked as baffled as I felt. "An incubus unit would never break off contact with its owner. We'd recommend restarting him at home." But on the drive back, I happened to scroll past a livestream from my live-in housekeeper. The title sat right there in bold: How a Seasoned Queen Subdues In Her AI Incubus. The lighting was low. The man's earlobes were flushed, and he knelt on one knee, every inch of bared skin crossed with messy whip marks. My housekeeper wiggled her red-painted toes, all smiles. "This one's got real stamina. Five hours straight and he never once tapped out." As the comments poured in, envious, a chill ran through me. So the so-called "cleaning system" was just his excuse to slack off and idle. Behind my back, he was happily playing somebody else's obedient little sub. If he wouldn't serve me the way he was built to, then he could wait to get shipped back to the factory and scrapped for parts.

On the day of our engagement party, my fiancée showed up with her ex-boyfriend in matching outfits. Then she took the microphone and made a very public declaration. "Lance, even if I'm engaged, my heart will always belong to you." Every head in the room turned my way, and it was obvious they were all enjoying the show. I calmly slipped off my suit jacket and gave a small smile. "Well, the stage is already set. Why not make this your engagement party instead?"

My boyfriend pulled in two million a year. He told me that once he'd banked five hundred thousand, he'd invest in my gallery. Year one, he said the startup was bleeding money; he hadn't saved a cent. Year two, he needed a new car to keep up appearances; no funds for me. By year five, he was on his private yacht brokering a major deal and told me not to bother him. I stood outside the cabin door and listened to the laughter rolling out from inside. "If Celeste wanted to open a gallery, Eth would write her a million-dollar check without blinking." "Hell yeah. If Celeste hadn't gone abroad back then, that knockoff he's got now wouldn't even be in the picture." Ethan's voice drifted through the crack in the door, lazy, dismissive. "Enough. Emily's been with me five years. I'll still put something in for her." "She's a free drafting machine. She's not worth five hundred grand. One day's revenue at the firm, maybe. Call it round. Two thousand bucks." My eyes burned. I pulled out my phone and called the one man Ethan hated most in all of New York, Adrian Sterling. "Mr. Sterling. That partnership agreement you offered me? I'm signing it first thing tomorrow morning."

The day the company is exposed for accounting fraud, my wife, Megan Grant, immediately holds a press conference to protect Liam Johnson. She shifts all the blame onto me, publicly declaring that I will be punished by the law. Liam puts on an act of heartbreak, saying, "Flynn, I warned you a long time ago that you can't just take the company's money. Why didn't you listen?" My coworkers stare at me in disbelief, expecting me to defend myself. Instead, I smile, take responsibility for everything, and resign. Megan thinks I've finally come to my senses and quietly promises me, "Once this blows over, I'll find a way to get your position back. I'll also tell everyone about our marriage. Consider it my way of making it up to you." However, there's one thing she doesn't know. In order to protect the company's interests, the chairman ordered me to install monitoring software on all the company's computers on the day we opened our doors. Once he retrieves those system logs, their lies will fall apart! When the truth comes to light, they won't just be facing massive financial fines; they'll be facing prison time too!

I’ve cheated on my boyfriend, Julian, three times. The first time, I dumped him because he was broke and hooked up with his boss. The second time, I thought he was getting too old, so I went after a younger personal trainer. By the third time, I was just bored and wanted someone new. But right then, floating text flashed across my vision. “She has no idea he’s the missing heir to a multi-billion-dollar empire.” “Seriously. He gave her three chances to live in luxury, and she blew every single one.” I froze and looked at Julian. His fists were clenched and tears welled up in his bloodshot eyes. "Are you sure you want to leave me?" he asked. I shook my head, heart pounding. "What if I said... I'm mostly done cheating now? Would you forgive me?”

I started calling my brother "Mr. Quinn" and my childhood friend "Mr. Webb". They frown and ask why I'm being so formal with them. I smile faintly in response. "Because I think you would rather be associated with Vanessa Quinn." They scold me for being unreasonable. "Vanessa is about to marry a man in a coma for you, and her whole life will be ruined. The only reason we treat her so well is because you owe her." But what they don't know is that the one marrying a man in a coma this time isn't Vanessa. It's me—Willow Quinn.

In the Blackridge Mountains there's an old tradition: a man may leave the mountains only seven times in his life. If he still can't get out of the mountains with the woman he loves after the seventh journey, he's expected to marry inside the mountain villages and stay there for good. Because of that tradition, I borrowed hair oil from Grandpa seven times, put on my best coat, and crossed ridge after ridge down to the town below, waiting each time for the woman who said she'd take me out of the mountains and marry me. All seven times, she never came. At the village, the chief sat smoking his pipe and said, "That's the seventh time you've gone down for marriage registration. And that young director of yours ran off to the next village again, to film the handsome boy who smiles for her camera. "Her heart hasn't been on you in a long time, Noah. What are you still waiting for?" In the four years since she came to these mountains, I crossed them for her seven times. But something always happened to the man named Ash, and every time, I was the one left behind. I looked at the village chief and shook my head. "I'm not waiting anymore. I'm getting married in three days."

For the 23rd time, I'm left standing at the altar as Jace Larkin hurries off because his foster sister, Celine Keaton, threatens to end her life again. The guests mock me, saying that we'll never tie the knot and attending our wedding will bring bad luck. I tune them out, holding on to Jace's promise that he'll come back and marry me. I buy his promise yet again, only for him to prove me wrong one more time. After I clean up the mess and pacify the angry guests, I reach home in the middle of the night. While passing the study, I hear Jace's voice. "Cece's always been mentally unstable. Of course, I have to stay with her. Regina will never leave me, even if I postpone our wedding a hundred times." Sorry, Jace, but I'll have to disappoint you this time. Blinking back tears, I unlock my phone and text my childhood friend, Clement Halloway. "Let's get married in three days."

After I become pregnant, Mason Clarke suddenly becomes incredibly attentive to me. He cancels all his social engagements and personally cooks for me every day. Everyone envies me for finding such a devoted and caring husband. Until one day in his study, I accidentally discover a document titled "Prenatal Blood Donation and Cord Blood Donation Agreement". My name and social security number are clearly written on it! In the beneficiary column is Chloe Reid, his first love, whom he has been supporting abroad for seven years. From outside the door comes his gentle, doting voice. "Chloe, don't worry. I'm personally monitoring her. Her nutrition and daily routine are held to the highest standards to ensure the baby is born perfectly healthy. Your life-saving treatment is absolutely guaranteed!" So all those pregnancy meals he carefully prepares for me, the mountains of expensive supplements, none of it is ever out of love. It's all to fatten me into nothing more than a walking blood bank!

My name was Wisteria Oliviero. Jackie Kissinger and I had been married for 10 years. The world praised his undying love for Yvonne Willson, his late first love. I too was glad I married someone so loving. Then, on Yvonne's deathday, I saw a photo of him kissing the supposedly dead Yvonne in Lutecia. I found out Yvonne swiped my dad's secondary card until its limit. When I demanded answers, he called me crazy and wanted to send me to an asylum. Then, I also found out the car crash that took my womb away was his and Yvonne's conspiracy. I wasted 10 years on the wrong guy, and I did not want to take it anymore. I used my family's power to destroy Jackie's company, collected evidence of their crimes, and sent them both into prison. They were thrown behind bars. I was freed from their web of lies, and the light awaited me.

To win Samuel Zane’s heart, I lost everything. My family was ruined, and I was forced onto an operating table so he could take my heart and save his adopted sister, Xenia Zane, whose organs were failing. At the critical moment, William Zane disguised himself as a doctor and rescued me. We left the country and started a new life overseas. I used all my points to change my target from Samuel to William. “Host, I need to remind you that if you fail again after changing your target, you will be reincarnated as an animal and never become human again.” I looked at William as he knelt before me with a ring in his hand. I said firmly, “I do.” But when I gave birth to our daughter, I saw two figures standing outside my hospital room. William handed our daughter to Samuel and said, “Samuel, you’re rushing this. We need to wait until her organs are fully developed before we can take them.” Samuel’s expression remained cold. “Thanks to your plan, we were able to grow a healthy, young heart for Xenia. Don’t worry. We can just use an organ maturation agent.” “But…” “William, don’t tell me you’ve fallen for that woman.” “Of course not!” I heard him deny it immediately. “I endured everything for Xenia.” The moment he finished speaking, the system’s robotic voice rang in my mind. “Host, your mission has failed. In one month, you will be reincarnated as an animal.”

For the past five years, I've been working at the Customs Department. Because my extraordinary sense of smell is a closely guarded secret, my wife, Judy Morrison, believes I'm nothing more than a security guard working for a company. On our third wedding anniversary, I catch her at the airport arrival gates—the same woman who claims she has to work late. She's smiling tenderly as she gently brushes back a stray lock of hair from Dan McLeod's forehead—her ex-boyfriend who has just returned from overseas. The moment she spots me, she casually drops her hand and instinctively shields him behind her. "Are you stalking me, Joel Plunkett? It's just some stupid anniversary. What? Is the world going to end just because we skip it? Spit it out. What is it you want this time? A new keyboard? A graphics card? Some new gaming gear?" As the surrounding crowd looks at me with sneering, contemptuous expressions, the humiliation hits me like a hard slap across the face. I shove the follow-up medical report for my old injury deeper into my pocket, then clench my trembling fingers. "I'm not stalking you!" "Thanks for picking me up, Judy," Dan chimes in smoothly. "Your husband is more important than me. Go spend the day with him. Also, don't be so harsh with your own husband. Apologize to him." Judy turns to me and mutters a stiff, "I'm sorry." My eyes widen in disbelief. Since when has the proud and untouchable Judy Morrison ever taken orders from anyone? My heart sinks. Dan pats Judy on the shoulder, takes the suitcase from her hand, and gives me a nod before heading toward customs. That is when I catch a faint, suspicious odor. I reach out to stop him. "Excuse me. Please open your suitcase. Customs needs to inspect it."

After her miscarriage, Elise Emery became exactly the wife Colsen Locke had always wanted. She quit telling him about her day. Quit calling when he stayed out all night. Even when an old man falsely accused her of hitting him with her car, she didn't call anyone. Didn't ask for bail. She just spent seven days in custody. At dusk on the seventh day, the precinct's iron gate clanged open. Elise had barely made it down the steps when a black Maybach screeched to a stop in front of her. The door swung open. Colsen stepped out in a custom suit, tall and lean, all broad shoulders and cold control. Same polished look. Same unreadable face.

The day before our wedding, my fiance, Brandon Foster, and his girl bestie pulled out their wedding certificate at the casino. Brandon shrugged as he said, "It's just a joke—we'll be divorced tomorrow, and everyone knows that Wanda and I are strictly platonic." Wanda Stiles, however, was smiling provokingly. "Come on—they say marriage is sacred, so you guys can quit gawking already and hand us our wedding presents!" Everyone around the table laughed, with someone saying, "Alright! I own a business in the West End, and you can have it for your wedding… if you beat me at the dice game. Table rules." I didn't argue and merely sat at the table, smiling faintly as I met Brandon's frown. "The dice roll decides the wedding gift, no? I'll play too."

Back when Elaine and I are most in love, I'm a renowned financial reporter, while Elaine Crowley is a rising star in capital circles. However, on the day I'm supposed to interview her, she stands me up once again. My boss, Lisa Donica, waves a limp finger at me and sneers. "You've been sleeping together for eight years, and you still can't land an interview with her? Has she already gotten bored of you? But I guess that makes sense. Some men don't respect themselves—they throw themselves at women and expect to be worth something!" I ignore her and step outside to call Elaine. But the moment I turn around, I find her Cullinan parked right outside. A surge of joy rushes through me. I'm just about to call out to her when the car door opens. Elaine, with her head bowed, carefully steps out with my coworker, their bodies far too close for comfort. Lisa shoots me a sideways glance. "Your woman is letting your biggest rival put his arm around her waist? Luke Tilghman, you've been cheated on!" My eyes fall on the Cullinan. I press my lips together and make a call. "Send a crew over. It's time to take out the trash!"

It's Family Day at my daughter, Hannah Neel's, preschool, but my wife, Samantha Miller, says she has to work and tells both Hannah and me not to go. Seeing the disappointment on Hannah's face breaks my heart, so I bring her to school anyway. As soon as we step through the gates, I see Samantha. She's holding her childhood friend—Oscar Barnett's—hand, with a little boy clutching her other. The three of them look like a perfect family, laughing and chatting, as if they belong together. When Samantha sees us, her smile fades, and she lets go of Oscar's hand. "Zach, it's not what you think. Oscar's raising his son alone. Today's his fifth birthday, and he just wanted to give him a little taste of a mother's love," she says quickly. I study her for a moment, then kneel and gently take Hannah's hand in mine. "Sweetheart, say hello to the lady."

When a massive hurricane headed toward our city, officials declared the entire area a high-risk zone and ordered everyone to evacuate. But my fiancée, Mabel Payne, refused to leave. Her adopted younger brother, Jason Payne, suffered from severe trauma, and he wouldn't budge. On the first day, Jason took a high-powered slingshot and shattered the expensive hurricane-resistant windows I had installed. On the second day, he flushed our entire supply of emergency medications down the toilet. On the third day, he opened the front door and let a pack of stray cats and dogs tear through all the emergency food I had spent so long stocking up on. With nearly everything we needed to survive the hurricane destroyed, I suggested hiring a professional evacuation team to get Jason and the rest of us to safety before the storm hit. Instead, Mabel flew into a rage. "Jason has PTSD! Taking him somewhere unfamiliar could trigger another episode! Are you trying to get him killed?" But when the hurricane finally hit, Mabel shoved me right out of the rescue helicopter, breaking my leg. "This is all your fault! You're taking up the space Jason needs for his things! You know he can't function without them! What if his condition gets worse? Just wait for the next rescue helicopter!" What she didn't know was that there wasn't going to be another helicopter. And without me, this one wasn't going anywhere.

In the middle of a hurricane, I rush into the sea and save Simone Parker, an heiress from Kingstone who has fallen into the water and lost her memories. Right here, in this little seaside town of Faircove, I work three jobs to pay for her medical bills. I take a bottle to the head while saving her from some thugs. And when she falls sick, I carry her on my back through the storm to find the local doctor. Everyone says I'm utterly devoted to Simone—and that I would even sacrifice my life for her. Even she believes that to be true. Therefore, when she regains her memories and heads back to Kingstone to take over her family's company, she asks me what I want in return. When I ask her to grant me a wish, her expression turns icy. "I can give you a lifetime of wealth and privilege, but don't even think about asking to be my husband. The only man in my heart is Conrad." I wait in silence, choosing not to refute her. On the day Simone is formally made the chairwoman, I feel a weight lifted off my shoulders. I say, "Please give me a statement of forgiveness, Ms. Parker." She looks thrown at first, and for some reason, her expression turns cold. "Why do you insist on employing such manipulative tricks, playing hard to get just so you can get under Conrad's skin?" I'm completely dumbfounded. How am I being manipulative and playing hard to get when I'm just asking for a statement of forgiveness? The only thing I want is to finally free my unlucky wife from the detention center.

After three years of relentless pursuit, I finally won over Logan—a guy who had never shown the slightest interest in women—and he cherished me like I was his entire world. On the eve of our wedding, I accidentally overheard one of his friends teasing him, "Logan, are you really ready to step into the grave of marriage for Bella? And what about Joann? She's chased you for so many years. Don't you feel anything for her?" Logan's voice was cold. "If we hadn't grown up together, I wouldn't even want to see Joann's face. She could never compare to Bella, ever." So, I held onto dreams for our future, and I married him. Two years later, at our daughter's hundred-day celebration, Joann came to me in tears, claiming her baby had leukemia—and that only my daughter could save her baby. Logan's eyes reddened instantly, and without hesitation, he sent our daughter into the operating room to have her blood drawn. I struggled in the bodyguards' grip desperately, crying and pleading, "Logan, Lily is still so little. She can't take this. She'll die! Please, use the cord blood I stored for her. I'm begging you, let her go." He kicked me aside. "It's just a bit of blood. Joann's baby is dying, and you're still this selfish? Get out!" When the surgery was over, he tossed a divorce agreement at me. "Joann's child is mine. I have to give them both a name, and I'm taking her abroad for treatment." I stared at my silent, motionless daughter in the operating room, my heart turning to ash. "Fine." Six years later, Logan saw me in a baby store, holding the hand of my five-year-old son. Logan reached out with a pained look, trying to pick him up. "Why did you cut Lily's hair so short? She looks like a boy. What were you thinking?"