Cerita Pendek & Novel Bias Romance

After my girlfriend returns from a month-long business trip with her first love, she notices that I've changed. She sides with him to take over my project, but I don't quit in anger. Instead, I throw myself into helping him, even drafting proposals for him. She destroys the design I worked so hard on to help him snag the year-end bonus, yet I don't try to defend myself. I take all the blame and let her punish me however she likes. Even when she goes as far as to promote him to general manager against the rules, I don't get upset. I hand over all my shares, letting her distribute them as she wishes. My girlfriend wonders why I've suddenly become so submissive, while her first love just grins smugly. "See? I told you—giving him the cold shoulder works. Once he's afraid of losing you, he'll fall in line," he says. It clicks for my girlfriend. She smiles, tells me I've been good, and offers me a promotion. Then, she unexpectedly asks me to propose. But she doesn't seem to realize that while we weren't speaking, she has already signed my resignation papers. And I've already broken up with her. From this moment on, I sever all ties with her, and we no longer have anything to do with each other.

On our honeymoon tour, my husband and I faced an earthquake. I thought I was lucky to have booked a flight home, but then Ethan Parker snatched my passport and fled with my stepsister, Lily Foster. Stranded on a foreign land, I saw her new post. Lily: [Talking about clinginess, no one beats Ethan.] An attached photo showed their hands intertwined. In the chaos, someone stole my phone and cash. When aftershocks hit, I couldn't escape and got buried in a collapsed building. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day of the first quake. Seeing Ethan bolt from Lily's room, I didn't say a word, just quietly canceled his plane ticket. If they loved each other so much, I'd let them go on and be a doomed couple.

Claire Aniston had been in love with Calvin Bennett for a decade. In all that time, he had blown hot and cold, but she never minded. She was certain that someday, he would see how much she truly cared. That faith shattered on the night of their engagement party. Claire found him wrapped up with Iris Aniston. "Once I marry Claire and get control of the shares, I'll divorce her and marry you," she heard him tell Iris. So that was the truth. He wasn't just guarded—he didn't love her at all. Worse, he had been using her from the start. With cold resolve, Claire went straight to the head of the Bennett family. "Grandpa George, I've made up my mind. Calvin doesn't love me, and I won't force him into this. I'm not going to marry him." The old man was shocked. "But…you've loved him all these years. Did he do something wrong? Don't worry, you will always be the one I want for my grandson." "Grandpa George, the wedding date doesn't need to change. I will still marry into the Bennett family—but I'm choosing a different groom. "On the day of the wedding, seven days from now, I will draw lots among all the eligible male heirs of the Bennett family. Whoever is chosen will become my husband." After all, things couldn't possibly get any worse.

At our baby's one-month celebration, my wife, Emilia Hayes, decides to hold a vote. Anyone who thinks the baby should take my last name votes A. Anyone who thinks the baby should take her first love, Alex Mitchell's, last name votes B. Every relative and friend at the table votes for Alex. And yet, when Emilia's family is at its lowest, I am the one who gives her the money to start her business and helps put her younger brother, Elliot Hayes, through college. Elliot, who used to proudly tell everyone I am part of his family, laughs the loudest. "Ryan has been devoted to Emilia for 15 years. There's no way he'd risk losing his wife and son over a last name." Emilia notices my discomfort and frowns as she defends me. "Don't say that. He has his pride too." Then she places our baby in Alex's arms, takes his hand, and asks, "Have you decided what to name the baby?" My mom, Winona Williams, looks at her grandson with tears in her eyes. Afraid I'll really lose my wife and baby, she forces a smile. "It's okay if your first child takes his last name," she says. "You can always have another baby later." I open my mouth to argue. But watching my mother lower her head alongside everyone else just to keep my family together makes me realize there is no point. What they don't know is that tomorrow, along with the application to change my son's last name, I'll also be serving Emilia with divorce papers.

My best friend, Cassidy Lockhart, behaves like an entitled princess. She wants to visit a princess theme park, but insists that princesses don't wait in line. Without a second thought, my boyfriend, Silas Culburn, spends our entire 6,000-dollar savings on VIP passes and the parade experience, treating her like royalty. That 6,000 dollars is the money Silas and I have saved up over six months of part-time jobs. It's supposed to be our wedding fund. The caption on Cassidy's latest social media post reads, "I've always known that every princess has their own knight in shining armor." In the video, Silas gently places a tiara on her head. The two of them walk hand in hand, their eyes fixed only on each other. I take a screenshot and send it to Silas. He calls me back almost immediately. "Cady's your best friend, and her family just went bankrupt. I couldn't say no to one little wish." My heart sinks. "So you went ahead and fulfilled her wish using our wedding fund?" "We can always earn more money, but we're only ever going to a princess theme park this one time," Silas replies before hanging up. I think back to the time Silas first meets Cassidy. He tells me, "She reeks of money, and she's so entitled." A week later, he comments jokingly, "You look like an ugly duckling standing next to a swan when you're with Cady." I wipe away my tears, open my planner, and cross out the line that says "Save for our wedding fund." Now that the money is gone, there's no point in saving up for the wedding anymore.

After my entire family was executed by slow slicing, I became the sensible, understanding wife Tristan Blackwood had always wanted. I stopped asking where he went. I stopped screaming at him to send his widowed sister-in-law away. When he said he wanted to take her as a second lawful wife to carry on his late brother's line, I calmly agreed. On their wedding day, I accepted the cup of tea Sabine offered me and, with a smile, handed her a marriage blessing. Tristan grabbed me by the throat and roared in fury. "Elowen, you know I earned that blessing for you, kneeling and bowing at every step of the way! Why would you give it to someone else? "Do you still blame me for not saving your father and brothers? "Is this how you're punishing me? How long are you going to keep this up?" His eyes were full of pain, but my smile was calm. He was the one who used my whole family's lives to force me into obedience. I was only giving him what he wanted. What he didn't know was that I was waiting. Right now, the remains of my entire family hung from the city gates for all to see. In three more days, I could finally collect their bodies. And on that same day, I would join my father and brothers, who had died wronged.

On the very night Ansel Halberg is in another woman's arms, Odessa Montclair meets a tragic end. The Grim Reaper gives her seven days to return to the world of the living and make one final request. Her only wish is to divorce Ansel and erase every trace of their shared past. She's determined never to cross his path again—neither in this life, nor the next.

After I slips and falls in the bathroom, I calls out to my boyfriend, Jared Hammond, for help. But all he does is accuse me of trying to seduce him in my wet clothes. "None of your tricks are going to work! I'm not touching you until Elsie graduates!" he yells. He rushes out to help Elsie Sandberg—the younger sister of his first love, who passed away—with her thesis, ignoring my cries and slamming the door behind him. The pain's so intense I nearly black out, but I manage to use the last of my strength to call an ambulance. Later, the doctor tells me I've suffered a serious fracture and need to be hospitalized. I tried to call Jared over ten times, but he never picks up. Then, I see Elsie's latest Instagram post. "Help! How do I win over a ridiculously hot professor?" The photo shows Jared's hand resting on hers as he patiently walks her through her thesis proposal, again and again. After being discharged from the hospital, I agreed to the marriage that Mom and Dad set up. "Yeah. The sooner the wedding, the better," I said.

"Be good. Relax..." A man's warm hand pressed against the woman's waist. Ian Gibson leaned over, ready to go. However, the woman suddenly bit him hard on the earlobe, killing his mood. "Ian, have you gotten this far with my sister before?" Seeing Ian's astonishment, Tammy Palmer raised an eyebrow and watched with a teasing smile as the redness spread from the tips of his ears down to his neck. "Ian, can my sister make you feel as good as I do? You should break off your engagement to her and marry me instead. "You don't want everyone tomorrow to be talking about how Mr. Gibson stole his sister-in-law's innocence!" Memories flooded Ian's head. He finally came to his senses, and a dull pain stabbed at his heart. In his previous life, he and his younger stepbrother, Anthony Shaw, were both engaged to the Palmer twin sisters. However, an intimate video of him was leaked to the media on the eve of his wedding to Selena Palmer. That was when he realized the woman he had spent the night with was not his fiancée but her younger sister, Tammy!

Four years after my death, the true heiress won the Best Actress award, but her sex tape was once again spread like wildfire. My Best Actor boyfriend, Nicholas Jennings, kicked open the rented house where I used to live, hoping to make me clarify once again that it was me in the video, but all he saw was a complete mess. The landlord happened to pass by and, upon his inquiry, scolded him, "You’re talking about Astrid Rhode? She died four years ago! A man saw the sex tape posted online and came here to have some fun with her, but she would rather die than comply. In a fit of rage, he killed her." Nicholas did not believe it at all. He kicked our couple's mugs. "Astrid made you say that, didn't she? She stole Maddie's life just because she looked like her. Did she think that helping Maddie once would atone for her sins? Tell her that none of the children in her orphanage will live if I don't see her clarification video in two days!" He strode away, and I shook my head with a wry smile. The orphanage had long since been reduced to ashes in the fire, and the children had already passed on to their next lives. I had made a deal with Death, wanting to come back and see him one last time. However, now, it seemed that the deal was better left undone.

Everyone in high society whispered that Tristan Webster kept a tame, submissive trophy girlfriend on his arm. That image shattered at a yacht party when a newcomer pointed at me and asked the room, "Wait, isn't she the legendary woman who slept with Tristan's best friends in one night just to get back at him for cheating?" The room fell dead silent. Tristan's childhood friends sat around the poker table, their expressions unreadable. Tristan, however, simply swirled the wine in his glass and lounged against the leather sofa before casually beckoning me over. "Come here." I walked over without a word and lit his cigarette for him. "Sorry, she caused such a scene back then," he said smoothly, blowing a stream of smoke into the air. His tone gave nothing away. "She certainly gave everyone something to talk about. But after spending a year at the treatment center, she's much calmer now." "Definitely," someone quickly chimed in, trying to lighten the mood. "She's practically trained now." "Yeah." Tristan stubbed out his cigarette, then tipped my chin up with two fingers. "Next month, I'll finally give you the wedding you've been waiting for." "Okay." I looked into his deep, searching eyes and obediently pressed my lips to his. What he didn't know was that I'd stopped caring about that wedding a long time ago.

The birthday gift that I've given to my wife, Jasmine Gunner, is discovered inside a kennel by the streets. Because of this incident, I get made fun of by the entire elite circle in Harborough. It's Jasmine's birthday once again. Everyone teases me, saying that the gift I've prepared for her must be the most expensive one again. "As expected of the fashion sense of someone who's struck it rich all of a sudden. He thinks that the more expensive something is, the better it must be." "I wonder which kennel it will appear in this time." The scions continue laughing among themselves. But soon, they realize that I've never given Jasmine a single thing for her birthday. In fact, I never bother showing up even though Jasmine's birthday party is coming to an end soon. "Henry, where's my birthday gift? Also, you're being very unscrupulous! To think that you've missed out on my birthday the whole day! Do you have any idea how stormy my family looked earlier?" Jasmine glares at me, her expression dark. I rake my fingers through my messy hair, finally remembering that today seems to be Jasmine's birthday. "Sorry, I've completely forgotten about it. I'll have my assistant pick out a gift for you tomorrow to make amends to you." The swirling emotions in Jasmine's eyes dissolve instantly. She looks at me as though she can't believe what she just heard. "What did you just say?"

While I'm folding my girlfriend Lucinda Fowler's clothes, she suddenly says, "You're actually pretty pathetic. In fact, you're even more embarrassing than a simp." My hands pause. Just as I'm about to argue back, she cuts me off. "Sure, you love me. Moreover, you're diligent, dependable, and take great care of me. But sometimes you just can't compare to Owen. Anyone could do what you do. In short, you're nowhere near Owen's level." It suddenly occurs to me that a month ago, her ex-boyfriend, Owen Boyd, invited her to a concert. However, I decline on her behalf. Even to this day, she still holds it against me. I throw her clothes on the floor and turn to walk away. As it happens, my supervisor, Eve Hoffman, is asking me to go with her to the overseas branch. I turn it down for Lucinda's sake. But the moment I really walk away and clear the path for Owen, why does Lucinda cry and plead for me to return?

To keep my "spending urges" in check, Andrew Cathcart changed the PINs on every bank card in our household. "If you need money, just submit a request to me. "For anything under 1,000 dollars, send me a text. For anything over 1,000 dollars, write up a proper report. Once it's approved, I'll transfer the money to you. "That's what's best for our family's future." I went along with it. For three years, I never touched a single bank card. Then came the third year. At a luxury boutique, I spotted Sasha Reyes, the new assistant Andrew had just hired. "Mr. Cathcart, you've given me way too many cards. I keep mixing up the PINs. Next time, can you just change them all to my birthday?" She cooed into the phone while punching in one string of numbers after another, quick and practiced. With just two cards, 150,000 dollars was spent. At that exact moment, my phone lit up with a new message about the request I'd filed for my mother, Wendell Banks. [Request denied.] [Reason: A sedated endoscopy costs twice as much as a standard one. This counts as excessive spending.] [Your mom can handle it. The 300-dollar one is good enough.] I didn't make a scene, and I didn't demand answers. I just went home and calmly counted the cash in the safe. Thank goodness. This money didn't need a PIN, and it was enough for a divorce. Enough for Mom and me to move abroad, too.

The last hope I had of finding my parents was destroyed right in front of me. I had just arrived at the meeting place when they were hit by a car and killed before my eyes. By the time I returned home, I was numb. Then I heard a voice coming from the entryway. It was Eric Terrell, speaking to one of his trusted men on the phone. "First, it was the fake DNA report," the man said. "Now it's a staged car accident." He gave a low laugh. "Mr. Terrell, you've really gone to great lengths to stop Aimee Walters from finding her family." I curled up on the couch, and for a moment, I felt as if I had forgotten how to breathe. Eric took off his coat. His voice sounded tired, but there was no hesitation in it. "This is the last time. Aimee will never find her biological parents now." His man sighed. "Why go this far? Even if Ms. Walters reunites with the Hart family, it wouldn't really threaten Ms. Hart's place..." "No," Eric cut him off, his voice cold and firm. "If Aimee returns to the Hart family and wins back Mr. and Mrs. Hart's love, Isabelle will be the one who gets hurt." Then he added, "That's why I had no choice but to arrange for Mr. and Mrs. Hart to fake their deaths in front of her. In three days, they'll leave the country and never come back." My blood ran cold. Eric continued, as if my entire life were nothing more than a problem he had already solved. "As for Aimee, I've already agreed to marry her." The man sounded surprised. "Then what about Ms. Hart?" Eric fell silent for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and defeated. "As long as she's happy, that's enough for me."

It started with a sudden downpour. I turned around to buy an umbrella. By the time I got back, Winston Sterling had already draped his overcoat across Sera Thorne’s shoulders. He pulled me under the umbrella, his tone gentle, as if soothing a spoiled child. "Sera can't handle the cold. Just let her have it this once, Nat. Be a good girl. Don't make a fuss." I looked down at my own shoulder, which was already completely soaked through. I didn't say a word. We had been building our startup for five years. Everyone always said Winston and Sera were the dual heart and soul of Sterling Tech. One wrote the code, while the other pitched the product. Meanwhile, I was the one managing the budgets, chasing down clients, advancing money for our office rent, and pulling all-nighters to grind out business proposals. Yet, all I ever got from him was a single, offhand sentence. "Nat, you're always the reasonable one." But I finally understood. It was always the reasonable one who got pushed out into the rain, time and time again. When the car door opened, Winston practiced an all-too-familiar routine, adjusting the passenger seat cushion for Sera. That was a lumbar support cushion I had bought for myself after injuring my waist. I threw the newly purchased umbrella straight into the trash can. Then, I pulled up my phone and clicked send on the equity exit agreement I had prepared long ago. Three minutes later, his reply came back as a brief, three-word text. "Don't be silly." What he didn't know was that at that exact same moment, I had also opened another email.

My older sister was suffering from severe hemorrhaging during a traumatic childbirth, and her life was in danger. On her deathbed, she called for me. Looking at her pale face, I wept and swore that I would take good care of her child. However, she shook her head weakly. “I don’t need you to take care of him. Chloe, the baby belongs to your husband.” In an instant, my world fell silent. My husband, Ethan, stepped forward and took my sister’s hand. With bloodshot eyes, he dropped to his knees right in front of me. “We never wanted to hurt you, so we kept it a secret,” he sobbed. “Now that she’s dying, we only ask for your blessing.” Numb with shock, I stiffly picked up a pen and signed the divorce papers. Three days later, I buried my sister, and on her tombstone, the inion read: Wife of Ethan. My parents were furious. They disowned her, cutting her out of the family entirely. They refused to acknowledge the newborn child, choosing instead to stay by my side, devoted to helping me heal. However, over the next five years, my mental health only deteriorated further. On the day I finally decided to end my own life, I brought my sister's favorite lilies and visited her grave. That was when I caught sight of her linking arms with Ethan and holding a young boy with her other arm. My parents stood right beside them, looking sorry for her. “If we hadn’t been worried she might hurt you, we wouldn’t have forced you to fake your death for five years,” my mother said, comforting her. “She’s in a really bad state right now. When we go home, we’ll convince her that her memory is faulty and that you two were married all along. That way, you can finally live together openly.” The bouquet of lilies slipped from my fingers, falling into the dirt and scattering dust across the white petals. I pulled out my phone and changed Ethan’s contact name from “Ex-Husband” to “Ethan.” There was no need to lie anymore. I was letting you go for real.

On the day our couple channel hit thirty million followers, the milestone video was supposed to be my official debut on camera. I woke up at five in the morning to do my makeup and tried on a dozen different dresses. However, right before the cameras rolled, Julian stopped me. "Willow, let's have Evangeline do it instead. She's just more camera-ready. The fans will love her." Evangeline was my best friend. I stood frozen for a long time, but in the end, I simply nodded. From that day on, Julian and Evangeline played a romantic couple on screen for three years. I stood behind the lens, writing their scripts, setting up their lighting, and editing every single frame. I watched the comment section explode day after day. [They look so deeply in love! My favorite ship ever!] And I watched Julian hold Evangeline's hand with more and more ease. Until the night of our three-year anniversary stream, when the host asked them a question live on camera. "When was the exact moment you two felt the strongest spark for each other?" Julian and Evangeline smiled in perfect sync. "The very first day we shot together on camera." In an instant, the live stream chat erupted into wild cheers and screams. Sitting in the dark corner of the studio behind the control monitor, my heart sank. They had spent three years pretending to be in love, and I was the only fool who treated it like an act. As soon as the broadcast wrapped, I logged into the channel dashboard and revoked all my admin access. Then, I opened an email invitation for an overseas film project I had received two weeks ago and accepted it. From now on, I was done writing their love story.

Three months after my patron sent me to finishing school, I ended our eight-year arrangement myself. "I'm done being your kept woman." Duncan paused. "Is someone at school giving you a hard time? If you want another present, just say so. You know I hate it when you play hard to get." I looked at my savings, barely double digits, and thought about the math my classmates had done for me. So I told him the truth. "They get tens of thousands a month and only have to show up to two parties. "I get five hundred, and I take care of Grandma, go to your business dinners, and keep track of your stomach medicine. I ran the numbers three times, and it still doesn't add up. "Isn't that why you sent me there? Because you think I spend too much and need to learn how to please you? I can't learn it, so I won't waste any more of your time." Duncan's breathing grew heavy. "Who said anything about replacing you? Last month I gave you five hundred thousand. Diana said it wasn't enough, so this month I added another two hundred thousand. And now you're leaving me over five hundred dollars? How much is enough for you?"

On the night college applications closed, I received a message from a mysterious stranger. The sender claimed to be me seven years in the future and even sent me a video. In the video, Noah’s best friend asked him, “You secretly changed Claire’s application to a school thousands of miles away. Aren’t you worried she’ll get angry and leave you?” Noah, my childhood best friend, sounded completely unconcerned. “She cares about me too much to ever leave. Besides, it’s only a few years. Maybe this will finally teach her to stop following me around all day and getting in the way of me and Isabella.” I sat there in stunned silence long after the video ended, still unable to believe what I had just seen. It wasn’t until I logged into the application portal to check that I discovered the local state university I had originally chosen had really been replaced with an obscure school thousands of miles away. My hands and feet instantly went cold. When I finally came back to my senses, the first thing I did was change the application to one of the country’s top universities in the medical field. Just as Noah wanted, I would leave him for good.