Tragic Love Romance Short Stories & Bias Novels

The dying heir to Silverbay's showbiz empire suddenly announces he'll select a bride at random from the city's prominent families, hoping the marriage can bring some luck and save his life. On the night before my own wedding, his men arrive and inform us that the Simmons family has been chosen. My parents have just three days to deliver a daughter to him. As soon as my sister, Roxanne Simmons, hears the news, she breaks down in tears and rushes to my fiance for help. When he sees her crying, Clinton Whitfield drops to his knees in front of me, under everyone's gaze. "Mr. Sterling enjoys tormenting virgins. If Roxanne marries him, who knows what he'll do to her? "But you're already past the marrying age, so he won't be interested in you. Please, help Roxy this once!" He looks away, his voice heavy with guilt as he continues, "Besides, he doesn't have much time left. When you return, I'll marry you." Tears well up in my eyes. I ask, stunned, "And what if I don't want to?" Clinton's gaze turns cold, his earlier guilt replaced by ruthless intent. "Then I'll make sure you go to him myself." I laugh bitterly as a chill runs through me. "Fine. I'll go instead."

Adam Locke made it his mission to control our marital finances. Every time I needed money, he subjected me to an interrogation. All I was allowed was 300 dollars a month, no more, no less. "Asking for money again?" Adam asked, shoving his ledger in my face. "You've already reached your withdrawal limit for this month!" I stared at the ledger. That 300-dollar budget was supposed to cover our children's medical bills, our daily household expenses, and even the money Adam owed restaurants or colleagues whenever he got drunk at one of his "business events." Not a single one of those expenses had been for me. Suddenly, his phone rang. He picked it up from the table, and his tone softened almost instantly. "Oh no. Did Zack get into another fight? How much do you need to settle it? I'll send you the money right away." "They said 15,000 dollars, or Zack's getting locked up at the station," replied his secretary, Yolanda Sharpe. Adam did not need to be asked twice. He hung up and immediately wired Yolanda the full amount so her little brother could stay out of trouble. It was as if Zack mattered more to him than his own wife did. I waited until he finished, then calmly said, "Mom was in a car accident. I need money for her medical bills. Please, anything would help." He tossed the ledger in front of me. "I told you, you've reached your withdrawal limit for this month!" he grumbled. "Can't she wait until next month to take care of whatever business she needs to handle?" This time, I did not argue or insist that he give me the money. I simply nodded and said, "Sure." Then I turned away from him and called my mother-in-law, who was lying on an operating table in the ER. "Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but it seems your son has refused to pay to save your life."

After being forced to donate my blood to Zachary Doolithe, my wife Anna Lang's childhood sweetheart, I died in the small quarters that she had personally decorated for me. Before I died, my five-year-old son ran to the main quarters and begged Anna three times. The first time, he broke in and said that I was vomiting blood. Anna scoffed. "I see he's improved his ways. He's even taught our son to lie." Then she ordered the servants to take my son out. The second time, he knocked on the door and said that I was already beginning to convulse in pain. Anna tutted. "I only asked for a little blood, didn't I? It's not like I cut out his heart. Why is he pretending?” The servant stepped forward again and forcefully pushed my son out of the main quarters. The third time, he knelt at Anna's room door, begging for a full hour. He told her that I was unconscious. Anna finally lost her temper. She snapped his arm and threw him out of the main quarters. "I told you, your father won't die. If you disturb me again, I'll throw him into a mass grave!" He had no choice but to give his emerald pendant, a symbol of his status as a prince, to the young beggar at the door. "Young lad, I don't want to be a prince anymore. I just want my father to live." The beggar accepted his emerald pendant and quickly brought a healer. However, Zachary had the healer dragged to the kennel of his dog. He said calmly, "I'm sorry, Your Highness. Your mother was worried I'd be too upset over the dog's illness, so she specifically ordered all the healers in the city to be sent to my quarters. Your father will have to wait."

As the most well-known weather forecaster in the city, my forecasts were always wrong. Over time, everyone caught on. In this city, whether it rained or snowed depended entirely on the emotions of Cody Harper's lover. One moment, I'm on air announcing "moderate to heavy snow," but the next, the clouds in the sky parted and cleared. My boss openly mocked me. "You used to be the most popular presenter at our station, but not anymore, huh? Your husband’s throwing money around to manipulate the weather. What's the point of you reporting the forecast?" A coworker ruthlessly added, "I heard her husband's new lover doesn't like the cold, so there probably won't be any snow in the city for half a year. I think she's gonna be hit with a lot of fines." Clutching over a dozen penalty notices, I remained silent. When I got home, I tossed the penalty notices at Cody expressionlessly. "Clean up your own mess. I'm tired of being Mrs. Harper. I quit."

I was with a mob boss for ten years, and I had twelve abortions. He always claimed that he had too many enemies and that the presence of a child would pose a threat. When I became pregnant for the 13th time, Chris Felt finally agreed to let me keep the baby. Once my condition stabilized, he went completely legitimate and washed his hands clean of the underworld. Seven months into the pregnancy, I accidentally discovered that he had another woman. That woman was also pregnant, and her due date was two months ahead of mine. With tears in my eyes, I confronted him. Chris only frowned slightly. "Jessica is different from you. She's just an ordinary woman, she needs the companionship of a child. "Even if she has a child, you know she won't compete with you for anything. You will always be the de facto Mrs. Felt." Looking into his indifferent gaze, I clenched my fists tightly. Then, I took a deep breath and said calmly, "Forget it. Let's break up."

The day my overseas assignment finally ended, I kept my return a secret from Marielle Knox and spent thirteen hours flying home. We'd argued only a few days earlier. Marielle wanted me to keep building my career abroad, but I was determined to come home and marry her. Even as I was about to board, she was still trying to talk me out of it over the phone. "Weston, don't throw away your future for me. As long as we love each other, it doesn't matter whether we get married." Hearing that only made me more certain. The moment I landed, I went straight to a jewelry store, bought a diamond ring, and called my childhood best friend, Chase Davis, to tell him about my proposal plan. A baby was wailing on his end of the line. Chase tried to soothe the child and snapped at me, "Weston Brown, wake up! You've been long-distance for five years, and she keeps putting off the wedding. She obviously doesn't want to marry you. "Marriage is where love goes to die. Ever since my wife had the baby, I've been losing my mind!" I was about to argue when I saw Chase walk out of a baby store, holding a child. "My wife's here. Talk later." He hung up in a hurry and waved toward the curb. A black luxury sedan pulled up in front of him. The door opened, and a woman took the baby from his arms and rocked him with the ease of someone who'd done it a thousand times. Sunlight fell across her profile, and the sight stung my eyes. The wife my best friend had kept secret for two years was Marielle—the girlfriend I'd spent five years loving from the other side of the world.

Levi Hoffman detests having his photo taken. Whenever his company holds press conferences, he forbids all reporters from bringing their cameras inside. Even though we've been married for three years, we've never taken a single photo together, let alone our wedding photos. He's cold and aloof by nature, and he refuses to waste his life in front of a camera lens. To him, it's utterly meaningless. However, things change the moment I see a photo of him and a young woman inside a photo booth at the mall. The young woman was smiling sweetly at the camera while Levi gazed at her with a doting expression on his face. They were huddled close together in the photo, looking just like any of the other couples who also had their photo booth photos pasted on the walls. I tear down the photo of him and the young woman before tossing it onto his desk. However, he just glances at it for a moment before replying nonchalantly, "She wanted to have some fun and insisted on dragging me inside the booth. It's just a photo. Why are you so worked up about it, Natasha Bowen?" I chuckle. So, while I've been trying to get just a photo of the two of us in the same frame for the past three years to no avail, another woman can chalk it up as "having fun" and get her picture easily just by acting coy. I take off my wedding ring and place it right on top of the photo. If this is the case, then I might as well just disappear from the lens of his life forever.

"Your Highness, are you really going to secretly take blood from Miss Jerryton's heart and treat Miss Mullery with it?" The elderly imperial physician's hand that held the dagger trembled. The candlelight reflected the cold sweat on his forehead. Arrisa Jerryton lay on the bed. Her thin body sank into the luxurious quilt, and her face was as white as the first snow of winter. Louis Xavier spoke in a tone colder than the snow outside the palace. "Yes. I already fed her anesthetic powder. She is in a coma and will not wake up. Hurry up."

Ten years after I missed my shot at college, I was selling burgers from a street cart when I ran into Marisa Doyle. Her eyes fell on the empty pant leg where my left leg should have been, and she froze. I calmly bagged up her order and held it out. "That'll be ten dollars." She did not take it. Instead, she scanned the QR code taped to my cart, and my phone chimed with a notification. She had sent me a million dollars. "I never thought you'd end up like this. Back then... What I did to you was wrong. I gave your Wexley University acceptance letter to Tobias." Scalding grease spattered off the griddle and turned my arm red, but I did not feel a thing. Ten years earlier, Tobias Kerr had been brought home as the family's real son, and I had become the fake heir nobody needed anymore. Even my engagement to Marisa was handed over to him. Anger stung my eyes as I stared at the diamond ring on her finger, and my voice broke. "So now that it's all out, you get to feel better. What about me?" After losing my place at college, I was thrown out of the house. I scraped through community college and hit dead ends everywhere I turned. When I finally found a job that kept food on the table, a car accident took one of my legs. Just then, a runaway truck came barreling straight at me. Marisa lunged forward and shoved me out of the way. A second later, the truck slammed into her and sent her flying. In her final moments, she apologized to me. "I've paid back everything I owed you. Please don't hate me. If there's another life, don't love me again." Her blood splashed across my face. The moment her hand went limp, everything went black. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day everything changed.

On the morning we were supposed to leave for our elopement trip to the stunning Calistia Mountains, my girlfriend, Jeanie Portman, was nowhere to be found. Worried something had happened to her, I drove to her family's house to look for her, only to find the whole neighborhood strung with wedding banners and streamers. A big outdoor reception was underway, the tables loaded with food. Jeanie stood there in a white gown, leaning into my foster brother's arms as she poured him a toast. Relatives showered the two of them with compliments, calling them a perfect match, while my father sat at the head table, grinning so wide he could barely close his mouth. I nearly lost it and started toward them, but my mother yanked me into a corner before I could get there. "What's gotten into you, making a scene like this? His birth parents died saving your father and me. Handing Jeanie over to him is the least we can do to pay that debt back." My voice shook as I demanded to know why no one had told me sooner. My mother just gave me a flat, dismissive look. "Because you're a teacher, and you've got too sharp a tongue for your own good. If we'd told you ahead of time, you'd have blabbed it to the whole world, and then how were the two of them supposed to have a proper wedding? "That's enough. Don't make a scene. "You've got a stable job. You won't have any trouble finding someone else. Don't ruin our family peace over some woman." I looked past my mother, toward the red carpet where Jeanie and my foster brother stood glowing with happiness, then at the relatives cheering beside them. Something inside me went hollow.

Three years after our separation, my ex-wife walked into the store with a young boy to shop for clothes. She froze for a brief moment when she saw me. I greeted her as I always did with customers—polite, composed, with every boundary drawn exactly where it belonged. I didn't bring up the past, not even once. After a short silence, she reached out and gently held my deformed fingers. "Does it still hurt?" I calmly adjusted my sleeve to cover them and told her everything was fine, as if nothing between us had really changed—except that we were no longer in love. That was all.

The first night I married into the Decker family in Markusson City, Rachael Decker had me sign an agreement. It required every expense after the wedding to go through her approval. "The gap between our families is too wide," she'd said. "This is to protect you from gossip." I'd accepted it without a second thought. Then came her pregnancy, and the mood swings that went with it. I stayed up with her every night until dawn, and the lack of sleep gave me splitting headaches. So I sent her a payment request on ClickCart for a head massager. It cost twelve dollars. She rejected it in seconds. "That's a waste of money. I'm the one who's pregnant, and I don't even have a headache. You need to learn to manage your emotions." A deep helplessness settled over me. That was when the family fund account was suddenly charged one hundred and ten thousand dollars for a round-the-world trip. The people who'd gone along were her secretary, Sean Wellbrock, and his family. I clenched my fists and laughed at myself, bitter. So the transparency she always talked about only ever applied to me. I logged out of the account and accepted the job offer from the overseas research institute on the spot.

My boyfriend, Lukas Asher, tells me he's away for a week-long company training program where phones aren't allowed. Since he's supposed to return tomorrow, I decide to surprise him by showing up at his apartment a day early. But when I arrive, I hear voices inside, even though Lukas claims he lives alone. Then a young woman's voice comes through the door, playfully asking to see his phone. Lukas laughs and teases her in response. I freeze. I immediately call him, and he answers cheerfully, calling me babe as if nothing is wrong. "I'm outside your apartment. Open the door." The laughter stops. Everything inside goes silent.

A week before the wedding, my fiancée, Gracie Howell, suddenly starts gagging at the sight of food. I figure it's just pre-wedding stress. I bring it up to my younger brother, Luca Norton. He glares at the warm soup on the table and sneers. "Some women claim they're child-free, but they secretly want kids all along! She probably got knocked up behind your back and is gonna pin it on you!" I hand him the bowl with no green onions. "Nonsense. Gracie isn't like that." "The hell she isn't! The other guy could be standing right in front of you, and you'd still be smiling, serving him soup!" He acts all righteous and protective, like a loyal guard dog. I just shake my head and smile. Luca is wild and rebellious, while Gracie is quiet and traditional. They've always rubbed each other the wrong way, clashing every single time they meet. I'm used to it by now. Three days later, I take time off work to decorate our new home, only to find the front door ajar. The familiar bickering drifts out, laced with heavy, breathless panting. "You're about to be a dad, and you're still out doing reckless drag races? Keep it up, and I'll buy a chain to lock you to the bed." Gracie makes an empty threat. Luca scoffs, thrusting his hips with a cocky grin. "Worry about yourself, Gracie. After all, you're carrying my baby, while your dear fiancé thinks you're just stressed out and is dying of concern for you." The white roses slip from my hand and fall to the floor. I stand at the threshold, frozen. Who knew that all their bitter bickering was just a cover for passion? In that moment, the woman who promised to love me until we were a hundred is dead to me.

After we got back together, I kept the Winter family’s rules in mind all the time. I never threw any tantrums and was content with being the man supporting Winona Winter, my wife. Within the upper-class society, I became well-known as a magnanimous husband. However, when Winona became pregnant with another man’s baby again, everyone thought that I would fight against that man, but I only brought her back calmly and took care of her. Yet Winona lost her composure and grabbed my collar. “Shaun, why aren’t you arguing with me?” I only smiled and calmly took out a copy of the family rules. “According to Rule 137, the husband needs to be magnanimous and tolerant. He must understand that his wife has needs and cannot be unreasonable.”

My mother was critically ill, and I drove five hundred miles back to my hometown alone. At a rest stop, I saw a video online. A young man had posted: "First day driving long-distance as a nervous beginner. My ex followed me for three hundred miles, all the way until I got home safely." In the video, a familiar black Mercedes followed a white car the entire way. The top comment came from a burner account: "I'm the driver's ex. No other meaning. I just couldn't stop worrying. "He's timid, but always tries to act brave. I was afraid something would happen to him. "Please don't overthink it. Don't bother him. I'll feel bad." The internet exploded. "What kind of once-in-a-lifetime devoted ex is this? Get back together already!" I stared at that Mercedes. The plate number was GB-8860V. It was my fiancee Vanessa Tomlinson's car. That morning, she had canceled the plan to drive home with me. She said her company had an emergency project and she could not get away. I had sent her dozens of messages, and she had not replied to a single one. Yet she had time to escort the man she never truly let go of for three hundred miles. My phone buzzed. Vanessa had finally texted me: "Is the interstate jammed? Drive safe."

There's an earthquake. I'm trapped underneath the debris with another young woman. "This woman's chest has been pierced by a steel bar. We have to save her immediately." The rescuers start to approach me when my husband, Quintus Ford, suddenly darts in the other direction. "She's pregnant! Save her first!" I look at him to see him staring at the other young woman in panic. He doesn't know I'm pregnant, too. The doctor who's trying to stop my bleeding shouts, "I can't stop her bleeding! I suspect she has a blood clotting disorder!" I force myself to nod and look at Quintus desperately. However, he says, "I'm her husband. I'll bear the responsibility if anything goes wrong."

Aria Hawthorne, the disciple I carefully nurture, ascends to the position of Demon Empress. However, she sets a trap and kills me. After my death, she even has my skin and bones stripped away. She ensures that my name is disgraced throughout the Three Realms for thousands of years. This is all because I executed the person she had wanted to become her mentor. From that moment on, her hatred for me runs deep. When I open my eyes again, I am reborn on the day of the selection ceremony. This time, I give Aria exactly what she wants. I introduce her to my seemingly refined but actually brutal and incompetent junior, Kalix Frostwind.

"There's a foreign object lodged in the patient's lower region. Due to the unique circumstances, we need the patient's next of kin to sign the consent form for an extraction procedure." My body stiffens when I see the name on the consent form. "I'm Renee Becker's next of kin." It's Liam Cassidy who says that. He's the first love of my wife, Renee Becker, who has been away for a month, claiming she's off on a business trip. Liam doesn't recognize me. He takes the pen and signs the consent form. In the section to mark his relationship to the patient, he writes the word "husband". After passing the pen back to me, he grips my hand tightly and beseeches me, "Doctor, you must do everything you can to help her. She's carrying my baby." As I wrench my hand back from him, my wedding ring slips off and falls onto the floor.

In the fifth year after my death, my wife, Yuna Lane, visited my apartment once more. She wanted me to take the blame for her childhood sweetheart's corporate fraud crimes. "Finn, Joe is going to be elected the chairman of the Trade Association. He can't afford any blemish to his reputation. Will you only be satisfied by thoroughly ruining him? "It's only two more years in prison! Joe said he'll give you a job once you're released. Stop being so ungrateful!" Her screams and shouts startled my neighbors. … When she banged on the door once more, the woman who lived across from me finally stepped out into the hallway. "Miss, stop banging on the door. He died long ago." "He's dead?" The woman sighed. "Yes. I hear it goes back to that fraud case years ago. The victim's family wasn't happy with the sentence, so as soon as Finn was released, they had him run over and killed.” My wife's face turned stark white upon hearing the truth. However, barely a few seconds passed before she let out a cold scoff, confident this was all just a scheme of mine. "Great. He's willing to fake his death just so he can get out of helping Joe. Does he really think I'm helpless and powerless against his schemes? Tell him that his parents are dead meat if he doesn't show up in three days!" She then violently kicked the metal grills of my door before strutting away on her high heels. The woman watched her walk away with bloodshot eyes, shaking her head in pity as she muttered under her breath, "Poor guy. His old man died soon after hearing of his death..."