Obsessive Romance Short Stories & Countdown Novels

My husband, Arthur Banks, had just been promoted to colonel and ordered to report to his new post in Miami immediately. Under the military relocation program, he could bring two family members with him. Our neighbors envied me. They thought my daughter and I would have a better life in Miami. But I knew he'd already promised those two spots to his widowed adopted sister, Emily Carter, and her daughter, Lucy. In my last life, his decision had hurt and angered me so much that I'd filed a complaint. That forced Arthur to change the list. A few years later, Arthur came home a success, ready to take Emily and Lucy to Miami, only to learn that Emily had sunk into depression and died. He took Lucy, thin and frail, back to Miami with him and divorced me. Soon after, he sent his own daughter more than 1,000 miles north to learn etiquette. No one expected the car to get caught in a blizzard on a mountain road. My daughter's body was never found. But he wasn't the least bit heartbroken. He even told everyone that Lucy was his real daughter. "Isabelle is your own daughter! How could you be so heartless!" When I confronted him, he backhanded me across the face. "If you hadn't filed that complaint, I could've taken Emily away from here, and she never would have died of depression! "You two killed her, so it's a life for a life!" Hatred swallowed me whole. I soaked the house in gasoline and dragged Arthur into the flames with me. When I opened my eyes again, Arthur and I were both back on the day he filled out the list of dependents.

A few weeks before the wedding, my brother Adam, my childhood friend Liam Foster, and my best friend Celia Brooks moved into the house I shared with my fiancé, Julian Reed. From that day on, the smart lock seemed to forget who I was. The lock wouldn't recognize my fingerprint, and my code never worked. I kept getting locked out. Every time, Julian said, "There's nothing wrong with the lock. You're doing it wrong." My brother thought I was making a fuss over nothing. "Stop blaming everything on the lock. Everyone else can get in. Why can't you?" Liam tried to calm me down too. "Don't ruin everyone's mood over a stupid lock." Yesterday, I stood doubled over with stomach pain, trying the lock over and over. My fingers were stiff from the cold, and I still couldn't get into my own home. Just then, the others came home. Celia pressed her finger to the scanner, and the lock clicked open. I stood frozen outside the door. Julian shook his head. "We're getting married soon, and you still can't figure out how to unlock a door?" The next day, I had a repairman look at the lock. After checking it, he told me, "Nothing's wrong with the lock. Only four fingerprints are registered, and the code was recently changed." So the lock that was supposed to let me into my own home had been keeping me out all along. I checked the lock's access log, then texted the wedding planner, "The wedding is off."

When our SAT scores came out, my four childhood friends came over to my house for drinks. Halfway through the night, someone suggested a game of truth or dare. When it was my turn, my stepsister, Selena, dared everyone to show which colleges they planned to apply to. The four of them opened their laptops. Each screen showed an application preview for the University of Alaska. Liam, the childhood friend I'd had a crush on for years, sent me a draft application with my information already filled in and pointed to my SAT score: 1580. "We said we'd be together forever. "You haven't applied early decision to an Ivy yet anyway. So how about it? Do you dare go to the same college as us?" So, in front of everyone, I added the University of Alaska to my application. Amid the whistling, Liam leaned down and kissed me deeply, his answer to my confession. The day my acceptance letter arrived, I took a bag of freshly baked muffins to Liam's house. But from inside, I could hear several of them talking about me with contempt. "Is Catherine really going?" "Of course. I watched her submit the application myself!" "Thanks to Selena, a few fake application pages were enough to get rid of that annoying tagalong." "Come on. If you ask me, Liam has it worst." "Relax, man. This little dating game will be over soon. School starts any day now." I froze, clutching the paper bag. Then the door opened. My four childhood friends came out, with Selena in the middle of them. The moment they saw me, their smiles vanished.

The biggest laughingstock at the city's most exclusive society gala is none other than Camille Ellery's boy toy, who completely loses his mind over his love for her. Ansel Wells is devastatingly handsome, with an air of innate nobility. Yet here he is, groveling on the floor in utter humiliation. "Ms. Ellery, being by your side and serving you for the past three years has been my greatest privilege. I'm willing to do anything for you. Just please, don't ever leave me." His slightly husky voice rings out across the entire ballroom. After a brief moment of stunned silence, Camille's girlfriends all burst into laughter, clearly envious. "As expected of Camille. Only you could turn a man this gorgeous into a shameless lapdog!" "But we've all seen how hopelessly devoted he's been to you these past three years. When are you finally going to make it official?" "If you don't want to give him an official title, why don't you lend him to me for a bit of fun?" Camille holds a glass of champagne, swirling it with lazy indifference as a soft laugh slips from her lips. "I'd be happy to lend him out, but you'd have to ask whether he's willing. As for making it official?" She scoffs. "Sure, he's gorgeous and all, but there's no soul behind those pretty eyes." As everyone showers her with compliments for her irresistible charm, her gaze cuts straight across the ballroom and locks onto Stellan Loxley, who's dressed as a waiter.

Every time my husband cheated, he gave me a bracelet. I collected 99 bracelets in four years of marriage—I forgave him 99 times. He was away on a business trip for three days lately. When he came back, he brought home a rare bracelet worth Ten Million Dollars. That was when I knew it was time to ask for a divorce.

To help Adrian Spencer get over his feelings for his cousin, his mother made a deal—with Zoey Landon, the girl who had been secretly in love with him for years. They signed a contract. It gave Zoey ninety-nine chances. If even once—just once—Adrian chose her, she’d get what she wanted: to become his wife. But if he never did, she’d be sent overseas for good. No return. No exceptions. Zoey knew how hopelessly obsessed Adrian was with Claire Spencer. Still, she signed without hesitation. Ninety-nine chances. She refused to believe he wouldn’t choose her—not even once. But what she didn’t see coming was…

For their fifth wedding anniversary, Xavier Parker gave Riley Quinn a gift: he forced 999 bottles of hard liquor down her throat. "Xavier, I really can't drink anymore..." Riley begged, her voice hoarse. He let out a cold laugh and leaned over her. "Your parents loved drinking so much they drove drunk and killed my entire family. You're their daughter. You must love drinking just as much." "I'm sorry." Riley's eyes reddened with despair. She had apologized countless times, so often that the words had become second nature. "But my parents already died to atone for that accident. Isn't that... enough?"

When the kidnappers shoved a gun into Elena Vaughn's mouth and demanded ten million dollars from her husband, Julian Vaughn was busy with another woman. He focused all his attention on slowly zipping up Chloe Bennett's gown, without a thought for what Elena was going through. Julian only agreed to pay the ransom after Elena said through gritted teeth that the kidnappers might actually kill her. Soon after, a transfer landed in the kidnappers' account. Amount received: one dollar. Then Julian's ice-cold voice came through the phone. "Elena, consider this dollar your acting fee. "Chloe's having an asthma attack. I don't have time for your little show." The line went dead. Her face covered in blood, Elena begged the kidnappers for three days. This time, she didn't want his love. She wanted to survive.

After confessing 101 times to my childhood sweetheart, Morgan Lambert, he marries his first love, Cassandra White. With my heart in ruins, I leave him behind and marry his younger brother, James Lambert, who has pursued me relentlessly from the start. After marriage, James dotes on me to an extreme. His love is bold and intense. Everyone says I am unbelievably lucky to have married such a devoted man. As Cassandra and I sink into the water together, I can only watch as James dives in recklessly. He struggles through the water toward her, giving her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. I thrash and struggle in desperation, begging him to look at me even once. He never does. His entire focus is on getting her to shore, leaving me behind to be swallowed by the sea. While I am unconscious, I hear him and Morgan fighting violently in the hospital, arguing over who gets to stay by Cassandra's bedside. He roars in anguish, "I sacrificed myself by marrying Elsa so she wouldn't stand in the way of you and Cassie's happiness. Can you at least let me see Cassie once?" That is when I finally understand that none of them has ever loved me. I immediately arrange to fake my death, preparing to vanish from their lives completely. Yet after hearing the news of my so-called death, James—who's always calm—loses control. He pushes Cassandra aside, bends over, and coughs up blood. Overnight, he seems to age decades.