قصص وروايات قصيرة من فئة Romance وتضم Bias وتدور في Face Slapping

In the third year of her marriage to Anthony Lancaster, Simone Nolan is still the envy of every woman in Avenport. "Mr. Lancaster treats Mrs. Lancaster so well! Last time, she just coughed once, and he immediately gave her a full physical." "She married the nation's most authoritative doctor, after all. May I be this blissful in my next life!" Simone smiles, long used to the nurses' chatter. She's about to push the door open when she hears an argument inside. She falters. "Mr. Lancaster, are we still going to terminate Mrs. Lancaster's pregnancy later? This is already the third time!" "I've already told you that whenever Simone gets pregnant, an abortion has to be performed, no matter how many times." Anthony's cool voice pierces Simone's ears. Her face instantly becomes ashen. "But why? She has always wanted to have your children." Anthony's tone is icily sharp. "It's because of that surgery three years ago. I removed one of Simone's kidneys and gave it to Winona."

The yacht carrying my parents and my younger brother, Dylan Marsh, exploded at sea. There were no survivors. I came home to an empty house and a mountain of debt I had no way to pay off. Numb with despair, I climbed onto the roof, ready to jump—when a stream of comments suddenly scrolled past my vision, as if I were watching myself from the outside. [Plot twist: your parents actually won three hundred million dollars in the lottery. They took your brother abroad to live it up.] [Lol, Dylan has no idea the poor, blind girlfriend he dumped is actually the eldest daughter of the Ross family. She's just been playing along, pretending to be broke.] [Once Dylan blows through all his money and comes crawling back, Celeste Ross is going to lock him in a room and make him pay for it.] [Come on, cannon fodder, jump already. Everyone's waiting for Dylan's big comeback.] I decided, right then, that I wasn't going to die after all. That night, soaked to the bone and half-drunk, I knocked on Celeste Ross's door.

At the celebration dinner, my wife lifted her glass and drank on behalf of her male assistant. I overturned the table without hesitation, then walked out and called my lawyer to draw up the divorce papers. By that night, she had already received notice. She would be leaving with nothing. She called right away, fury in her voice. "Are you serious? You're divorcing me over a single drink?" "Yes," I said. "Over that one drink." I would not tolerate betrayal. Not even a hint of it.

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!

On my wedding day, Ethan Westbrook's ex-girlfriend sent word that she was terminally ill. Her dying wish was to wear a wedding dress once in her life. Ethan locked me in the waiting room while he prepared to hold the ceremony with her instead of me to fulfill this wish. I heard his impatient voice through the door as he said to me, "Can't you show some compassion? She's dying. What's wrong with granting her one final wish?" Later, the guy next door who had carried a torch for me for years climbed to the rooftop and begged me to marry him. Ethan stared at me with bloodshot eyes. "Are you really going to throw away our seven-year relationship just for him?" I brushed his hand away. "Should I just let him die? It's only a marriage certificate. Where's your compassion now?"

Everyone knew that the crown prince, Mathias Cavendish, was a handsome man with a calm and composed demeanor. He was a dream suitor for every woman of marriageable age in the city. However, no one knew how wild he was with Seraphina Montclair when his body pressed against hers every night and he thrust hard into her in all sorts of positions in bed. On the 1,001st night he met her through the secret passage, Seraphina lay weakly in the messy sheets, feeling sore all over. Mathias looked down at her after being fully satisfied, and she finally worked up the courage to say, "Your Highness will be marrying my older sister at the end of the month…" Her fingers clenched the corner of the covers as she said almost inaudibly, "Would you be willing to give me a place by your side on the same day?" Mathias was wearing his clothes when he suddenly paused. "No." He turned to look at her, his cold yet handsome face lit up under the flickering candlelight. "I promised Cordelia that she would be the only woman by my side. Your presence shall never be known to her." Seraphina turned pale instantly. "What would that make me?"

After writing 999 love letters to the cold and aloof campus belle, Maddie Harrison, I finally successfully snag her heart. But on the day before our wedding, I accidentally stumble upon Maddie's conversation with her childhood friend, where she jokes about the mistakes she's seen in the love letters. "An elementary school student must have written these letters, from the looks of it! He might as well use AI, to begin with!" So, I terminate our wedding and withdraw all the funding my family has given to her company. Maddie can only shriek hysterically in return. "It's just a joke between friends! Must you go so far as to cancel our wedding?" I show her a virtual fortune-telling prediction of our marriage that's drafted by an AI. "You like using AI that much, don't you? Then look at this prediction properly! Our marriage is a huge misfortune! There's no way I'm going to marry a walking jinx like you!"

Ten years after someone supposedly pushed her down a flight of stairs and left her in a vegetative state, Margaret Whitmore, mother of Mason Whitmore, the golden boy of the capital's elite, finally woke up. Practically everyone who mattered in the capital came to visit, each eager to praise Mason for his devotion to his mother. For ten years, he had made the person responsible for Margaret's condition pay for what she'd done. Even though the culprit was his high school girlfriend, he'd shown her no mercy. Margaret listened in silence for a long time. When everyone had finished speaking, she looked around in confusion. "What culprit? Nobody pushed me. I fell down the stairs myself." The paring knife slipped from Mason's hand and clattered to the floor. He stared at Margaret in disbelief. "Mom, what did you just say?" Lily Yates hadn't been responsible for his mother's condition? Panic swept through him. He'd spent every one of those ten years taking revenge on Lily, believing she was the reason his mother lay unconscious. Now he was being told she'd been innocent all along? "Speaking of which, where's Lily?" Margaret asked anxiously. "I didn't want you dating her back then because she came from a single-parent family. I never imagined she'd risk her own life to save me when I fell down. Are you two still together? Have you gotten married? Do you have children?" Each question struck Mason like a sledgehammer. His mouth went dry, and for a long time, he couldn't bring himself to speak. How could he tell his mother that after Lily got out of prison, he'd forced her to be with a blind beggar, and she'd been living that way for the past three years?

When it's almost time to get off work, Mason Lakeworth's coworkers drag him over to the window and point excitedly at a gorgeous woman downstairs. She's shown up outside their newspaper's building at exactly the same time for seven days in a row. "I did some digging! That's Lindsay Statham, the heiress of Heronvale's richest family. No wonder she drives a supercar with a custom vanity plate!" "And she looks good, too… Too bad she was set up and forced into getting married at a young age five years ago. I wonder which guy hit the jackpot and landed a woman like that." "But seriously, she's been coming to our crappy building for a full week. What is she even here for? Mason, you're always the last to leave. Have you seen who she's waiting for?" Mason stands off to the side in silence, saying nothing for a long time. His coworkers don't really expect him to answer anyway. They all start talking over each other, throwing out ideas. "Wait, Mason—you've been desperate for cash lately, right? Here's your golden ticket. Our new finance column is still short on a star interview. If you can land an exclusive with Lindsay Statham, the boss will definitely give you a huge bonus. You won't have to worry about your son's medical bills anymore!" Mason still doesn't respond. After a while, he withdraws his gaze from the window and finally speaks, his voice so calm it's almost numb. "My son died two weeks ago." He pauses, then adds, "And Lindsay… is my wife—the one I've been secretly married to for the past five years and the woman you're all so curious about."

I had just finalized a three-million-dollar merger deal when I heard my wife, Connie Anderson, instruct the assistant, Greg Smith, outside of my office. “Change the person in charge of this merger to Pete during the announcement ceremony tomorrow.” My hand paused on the doorknob as I leaned against the door. Greg sounded a little hesitant as he said, “But Dave’s been working on this project for the last six months. Our client has also been working exclusively with him…” Connie did not even hesitate a little when she said righteously, “Pete has just graduated. He needs the network to solidify his status. Dave’s already part of the management team. Why would he need more accolades? “After this deal is signed off, I’ll buy him his favorite sports car to make it up to him.” During the announcement the next day, Connie held my hand and said, “The admin has made a mistake in the paperwork. I’ll make it up to you later.” I pulled my hand back and remained quiet for the rest of the ceremony. We had been married for seven years, but she had taken everything I had built through years of hard work and used it to elevate another man. I neither wanted a sports car nor did I want to be a part of the senior management team.

"Ms. Clarke, you have successfully purchased a Final Memories recording package. We have arranged hidden cameras to record you anytime and anywhere. From this moment on, no matter where you go or what you do, everything will be secretly filmed until the day you pass away." The staff member handed the contract to Lila Clarke and asked her to confirm everything one last time. Without hesitation, she signed her name. The reason she ordered Final Memories was because she had been diagnosed with cancer. She had no more than one month left to live.

My girlfriend and I had agreed to marry as soon as we graduated. But after I waited three hours at the registration hall, she registered with my stepbrother instead. He had been in love with her for ten years, and now he was being sent to the deadliest front in space. “He won't survive without me,” she said. “Once he's gone, I'll still be yours.” My father and stepmother told me to be the bigger person. As I looked at their self-righteous faces, I accepted a command at the same front and became my stepbrother's highest-ranking superior. By the time news of my victories—and my wedding—reached home, every one of them had lost their minds with regret.

When the most popular amusement park in Crestwater—Fableland released a special offer for pairs, my girlfriend, Alice Winslow, bought two tickets without a second thought. One for herself. And one for my childhood friend, Troy Prescott. After linking their tickets to their IDs, she turned to me. "Hunter, did you get yours?" By the time I came back to my senses, the two of them were already walking towards the entrance together. I hurriedly bought a single adult ticket. As soon as I got through the gates, Troy messaged the group chat. "Hunter, you're too slow. We're going to check out the attractions first. We're not waiting for you." It was supposed to be a trip for three, but they were always paired off. I was always the one trailing behind. I stared at the message I had typed, "I'll come find you." Then I deleted it. Then I opened my feed and saw a photo Troy had posted of himself and Alice wearing Wally Whiskers hats. The caption read, "Our 30th photo together." During our 10 days in Crestwater, they had taken 30 photos together. And they had left me behind 30 times. That evening, I ran into them beneath the fireworks over the castle. Alice held up her phone with a smile. "Hunter, let me take a picture of you." I forced a smile and raised two fingers towards the camera. She handed the phone to me, then slipped her arm through Troy's. "Take one of us, too. " For a moment, I simply looked at the two of them standing together beneath the fireworks. Then I handed the phone back to Alice and slowly turned away. This was where my summer trip with Alice ended.

Two weeks before I stopped waiting, Ethan Hayes gave my island invitation to another woman. Her name was Mia Lawson. Twenty-six, pretty, soft-spoken, and always close enough to him that people had started pretending not to notice. That night, everyone at our table went quiet. Ethan didn't. He placed the envelope in her hand and said, "You've been working too hard. Take a break." Mia blushed like he had given her roses. I looked at the envelope, then at the man I had waited eight years to marry. That island was supposed to be ours. The beach, the villa, the ceremony site facing the ocean. All of it. Maya gripped my hand under the table and whispered, "Claire, say something." But I only smiled, because if I opened my mouth, I was afraid I would beg. And I was done begging. Two weeks later, on that same island, my phone kept lighting up with Ethan's name. I didn't answer. I was already wearing the white dress he had told me to return.

The Ashford family opposed my relationship with Everett Ashford. To separate us, they drugged him, and his fiancée ended up pregnant with twins. Everett threatened suicide if I left him. He begged me to stay, swearing he would never see them again. He even told me the pregnancy had been terminated. Three years later, I spotted him at a parent-teacher conference. Enraged, I kept the twins after school and, on their way home, they were kidnapped. Everett blamed me for everything. To force me to reveal where the twins were, he strapped my mother onto a high tower ride. However, my mother had a heart condition. I sobbed that I did not know anything. Everett screamed at me. "I've been good enough to you! Why the hell would you go after those kids? Tell me where they are right now or I swear I'll push your mother off this thing!" He shoved her toward the platform's edge. The safety harness hung loose on her frail body. I had no idea where the twins were. Everett shoved my mother off anyway. Just then, someone found the twins. Everett walked away without looking back, leaving my mother dying of a heart attack. While he rushed to pick up his children, I stood in a hospital room pulling a white sheet over my mother's face. That was the moment I finally stopped loving him.

After my wife was promoted to chief conductor, her work kept her so busy that I saw her only twice in three years. Each time, she came home in the middle of the night and left before dawn with her bag in hand. When my father‑in‑law fell seriously ill and urgently needed money, I wrote to her several times but never received a reply. I had no other choice, so I went to the train station to find her. I handed over our marriage certificate. The ticket clerk frowned and read the document three times before handing it back. "Sir, you are not listed as Chief Conductor Lewis' spouse in our system. Please do not cause any trouble." My heart skipped a beat. I thought something terrible had happened to Olivia. I bought a standing‑room ticket without hesitation and boarded the train, heading straight for the driver's cabin. Before I knocked, I heard her subordinates cheering inside. "Olivia, you really had it made! Hiring a caregiver for your father‑in‑law for three whole years must have cost a fortune!" My hand froze on the door. Shock covered my face. My parents had been dead for nearly ten years. Where did Olivia get a father‑in‑law? As I stood there in disbelief, a man in a ticket inspector's uniform brushed past me, pushed open the door, and pulled Olivia into his arms. Everyone in the cabin stood and joked, "Julian, you were late today!"

The day I caught my husband, McCoy, cheating, my postpartum depression took a turn for the worse. It was the 99th time I’d tried to swallow a bottle of pills. Our baby wailed hysterically in his stroller. My best friend, Raleigh, grabbed and desperately forced the pills out of my mouth. McCoy scooped me into his arms and rushed me to the ER, guilt written all over his face when he said, “Just make it through one more day, Moira. For each day you survive, write down one wish. “When you get better, I’ll make every one of them come true.” By the time I’d reached 1,000 wishes, the doctors were pleased enough with my progress to discharge me. Overjoyed, I went ahead home to surprise my family, only to find the wall where our wedding portrait had been hung replaced with photographs I’d never seen before. Raleigh posed with McCoy and our child in the photos. Some of the photographs were taken during a vacation. At the bottom was one last empty frame with a location printed: Disneyland. I opened TikTok from my alt account and searched for Raleigh’s handle. Her latest video was from Disneyland. “One last trip with my favorite people. Maybe in our next life, the three of us can finally be a family.” The comments were overflowing with sympathy from mutual friends and my coworkers. McCoy’s comment at the bottom stood out. “Thank you, Raleigh. You gave me somewhere to breathe during these past three years. “If there’s another life, I hope you’ll be my wife.” With trembling fingers, I tapped on her profile and found over 1,000 videos just like it. For three years—more than 1,000 days—she had not been absent from their lives. I quietly pulled out the wish list and crossed out my last wish to be with McCoy forever, replacing another. “I hope you get everything you wished for.” There was no need for another life. Raleigh could just take my place and be a more fitting wife and mother. This time, I would be the one to leave.

My mom and I work our butts off in order to clear Gregory Hudson, my boyfriend's crippling debt. Because of that, Mom even contracts lung cancer. But when I rush to the hospital to pay off the hospital bills, I find out that she's already taken her life by hanging herself. All she leaves is a suicide note. "I can't hang on anymore, Hailey. You should use the money to pay off the debt. Gregory is a good man. I know he loves you; it's just that he's stepped down the wrong path. "Once the debt is cleared, both of you should stay together and live a good life." After collecting Mom's ashes in an urn, I entrust the 300 thousand dollars—the money that Mom has earned with her blood, sweat, and tears—to Gregory. When I return to the company, I accidentally overhear the conversation between Gregory and a few of his debtors. "Mr. Hudson, Ms. Jackman has already passed all of your trials so far. What other arrangements do you have for her?" Gregory's childhood friend, Sophia Wagner, suddenly speaks up. "Even though Hailey can endure all the suffering with you, we still need to test if she can still handle living a good life with you." Gregory purses his lips. "Next, I'd like to know if Hailey's love for me is pure and sincere. If she doesn't pine for my wealth and doesn't become materialistic after finding out about my identity, I will marry her." As I look down at Mom's ashes, I can't help sobbing like a lost child. Both my mom and I are wrong about Gregory. I don't want to marry him anymore.

I'm learning to swim when my childhood friend, Vivian Thorne, fakes a cramp. My boyfriend, Oliver Wilde, suddenly lets go of my hand and swims toward her. I'm left alone in the two-yard-deep pool, completely stunned. After Oliver carries Vivian ashore, he smiles as he watches me thrash around. "Vivian says you rely on me too much and need a push to learn, so just swim over here yourself." I choke on water and sink. At the sight of my struggle, Vivian laughs so hard she slaps her thigh. Oliver says something to her, then drapes a towel over her shoulders in resignation. Even though I can't hear what he says, I bet it must be, "Now that you've had your laugh, don't tease her the next time. Aria is already pitiful enough with her fear of water." It's true that I was born with a fear of water. I've known them for seven years. All this time, Oliver and Vivian have been tormenting me under the guise of helping me overcome my fear of water. In college, at the beach, Vivian deliberately pushes me off the speedboat. Oliver jumps in to shield her and watches me swallow a bellyful of seawater in the waves. On the graduation rafting trip, Vivian suddenly capsizes the kayak. Oliver swims over to pull her up and watches me slam into a rock, my leg bleeding nonstop. Last year at the water park, Vivian shoves me down the waterslide. Oliver slides down to catch her and leaves me in the pool, nearly suffocating with fear. Every time, my fear and despair are met with a burst of laughter from Vivian. Meanwhile, Oliver stands behind her, always saying the same thing. "No more next time." However, the next time always turns into Vivian's new way of having fun at my expense. Water floods into my mouth and nose, the suffocation shooting straight to the top of my skull. But suddenly, I realize that I can actually float on my own. I grab the safety rope and haul myself ashore. Two pairs of hands reach out to pull me up, but I push them away. "From now on, I don't need you two to help me build up my courage anymore."

On Valentine's Day, my fiancee, Camilla Stenson, is admitted to the ER in the middle of the night for food poisoning. In her dazed state, she blurts out, "Nathan, I'm sorry I let you down. If it weren't for me being broke back then, I wouldn't have gotten together with Hendrick." My name is Hendrick Toff, while Nathan Langdon is her first love. It seems that she's forgotten that after the Stenson family went bankrupt, Nathan abandoned her and headed overseas. For the past eight years, I was the one who paid off her debts and remained by her side. Yet, in the end, the person she's always held close to her heart is none other than Nathan. I calmly tell her I want to break up with her, then toss my engagement ring into the trash. However, she says, "Can't you be more magnanimous? Nathan definitely wouldn't be as unreasonable as you." I laugh. "In that case, I'll be giving a piece of trash like you over to him as well."