Crime Romance 단편 소설 & 소설

My first time meeting Lawrence Seinfield was during my return to a noble family as its heiress. He helped me get out of a sticky situation once, and for that, I spent five years trying to steal his heart. I loved him. Eventually, he became my fiance, but he thought I was beneath him. He thought my lack of education and proper upbringing was bad. My grandfather, the one who raised me, was dying. Just when I needed his help the most, he decided to teach me a lesson and show me my place. Without any help, my grandfather died, and like Lawrence wished, I knew my place. And I lost my love for him.

I loved Stella for five years, and we were even engaged. However, she never helped when my grandfather was dying, all because the adopted son of my family suggested that she should use the opportunity to put me through adversity—so that I would toughen up. After my grandfather died helplessly, I toughened up just as she hoped for, no longer relying on her for everything. Naturally, I no longer loved her anymore either.

Three days before my wedding, my younger sister staged a scene—one where I supposedly abandoned her in the mountains. She claimed I locked her in a cabin, left her to be nearly assaulted, and that she barely escaped with her life. Furious, my fiancé dragged me up the mountain and locked me in that same cabin. He said, "Wendy, a woman as vicious as you won't learn her lesson without punishment. I already told you I'd marry you. Why go after Chloe? Since you're so desperate to climb your way up, you can stay here until the wedding day." I begged him, over and over, but my scorched throat could only force out hoarse, grating sounds. Three days later, Mickey O'Brien stood at the altar in his suit, waiting for me. What he got instead was my remains.

Three years after I died, Stella, my wife, decided to divorce me and marry her dying ex. She stormed into my old house like she owned the place, forcing me to sign the divorce agreement. Mom told her the truth—I was already gone. Stella rolled her eyes. "Why's he still pretending? Harvey's dying. I just wanna be there for him. What's so wrong about that? If he won't come out, I'm done paying your medical bills." She thought threatening Mom would shake something loose. But what Stella didn't get? Mom had already stopped treatment. She was just hanging on to watch her crack.

When I was eight months pregnant, my husband's foster sister invited me to hike a snow-covered mountain. Midway up, an avalanche hit. We were both buried. My husband rushed to the scene, but before I could utter a word, his sister accused me: "She planned this! She tricked me into coming today!" I tried desperately to explain. He didn't listen. Instead, he lashed out at me. "Sandra doesn't know any better, but you should! So what if she's blunt? Is this your petty revenge? Your pathetic life couldn't even begin to repay hers if she'd been hurt!" Then he left. Took her hand. Walked away. I screamed after him, begging him to save our baby. He didn't even glance back. Worse, he unhooked my safety harness and shoved me out of the rescue group. "Since you're so clever, find your own way down." Not long after, another avalanche hit. This time, I couldn't get back up. Three hours later, Sandra was in a car accident. She needed a blood transfusion. That's when he finally thought of me. But by then, he didn't know—I was already gone. Me, and the child I'd never hold, were still buried under the snow.

There is a medical dispute at the hospital. A patient's family member comes at us swinging a knife. Without hesitating, I push my husband, Maxwell Conner, out of the way. But then, he grabs my hand and pulls me in front of his beloved junior, Karina Burton. The knife plunges straight into my abdomen, killing the baby I had just conceived. As my horrified colleagues cry and rush me toward the ICU, Maxwell violently pulls me off the gurney. He barks, "Save Karina first! If anything happens to her, I'll fire every last one of you!" The doctors are stunned and furious. "Maxwell, have you lost your mind? Karina only suffered a minor injury. Your wife is the one in critical condition!" Clutching my bleeding abdomen, I nod slowly. "It's fine. Just forget it." Maxwell, I owe you nothing after this.

Just as my wealthy boyfriend and I were talking about getting married, his mother dismissed me as an unrefined girl and demanded I attend a finishing school to learn how to be a proper wife. Looking at Zach’s pleading gaze, I gave in. I endured relentless psychological and physical torment for three months. However, on the day I was discharged, I overheard a phone call between Zach and his friend. “Zach, if you don’t want to marry Cathy, why didn’t you just tell her? Why did you have to send her to that hellhole to suffer? That finishing school your family runs is a freaking torture chamber. Constant beatings, electric shocks, forced kneeling for hours… No one comes out of there the same.” “You don’t get it. Jen is about to get engaged, and I can’t risk Cathy ruining it. As long as Jen is happy, I don’t care who I marry. Cathy grew up poor, so she can endure a little hardship. Three months of hardship for a lifetime of Stein money is a fair trade.” My vision blurred with tears when I heard those cruel words from his mouth. I thought. “Zach, since you loved Jenna so much, why did you have to toy with my feelings?”

When the Irwins were on the brink of bankruptcy, I proposed a marriage of convenience to Ryan and saved them from collapse. Ever the playboy, Ryan was so grateful that he swore eternal loyalty to me, even getting a vasectomy immediately to prove his devotion. He took me across mountains and rivers, saying he wanted to etch our love into every corner of the world. Three years later, he got me drunk, stole my phone, and used it to infiltrate the Knights’ estate. That night, he orchestrated the complete downfall of my family’s legacy. My parents overdosed on sleeping pills. My sister was dragged into an alley by his men, violated, filmed, and the footage was auctioned off to amuse wealthy heirs. I begged him to let my family go. However, he gripped my face and forced me to watch as my parents were cremated. “You think marrying me back then was some noble sacrifice? Sure, the whole city praised your family for helping mine in our darkest hour. But what did they say about me? “They call me your lapdog, Lily!” Ryan destroyed the Knights to prove he was better than us and not anyone’s dog. He tore up the divorce papers and shoved the shreds into my mouth. Ryan wanted me to watch as he rose to power and made the world kneel before him. To humiliate me, he brought home a different woman every night, turning our house into a hotel while I served them. “What’s the Knights’ worth now? With your status, cooking for them and massaging their feet like this is only fitting.” It didn’t matter. When I saved him from that avalanche, a shard of stone slashed my heart. Now, I only have three days left to live.

I lose my memory and wander the streets, surviving on scraps and the kindness of strangers. Then, Miles Blackwood from the Institute of Medical Research finds me and takes me in. He tells me that I'm his long-lost fiancee who ran away years ago, and that he's spent every ounce of energy searching for me ever since. As I'm frail and riddled with illness, he watches over me as I take my medication every day, tracing the scar on my lower back with a strange, tender affection. But everything shatters the day I regain my memory. I accidentally overhear Miles speaking to a friend. "Miles, you forcibly removed Cassidy's kidney for Claudia back then. That was what caused her to lose her memories. And in the end, you let Claudia take all the credit for the research. "Now, after Cassidy's been suffering out there for years, you're bringing her back just to use her for the artificial kidney project? Aren't you worried that she'll regain her memories?" Miles scoffs. "She's incredibly grateful to me now. Besides, she's just a sickly woman. So what if she finds out? As long as we succeed in the research on artificial kidneys, Claudia will become the star of the medical world. As for Cassidy? She'll have made her contribution to the medical field." A cold chill rushes through me in an instant—I am Cassidy.

I've been married to the prince of the underworld for ten years and have endured countless life-or-death situations by his side. My hands, once trained to play the piano, are covered in calluses from holding guns and stained with blood. But at 28, my husband ends up falling for a young woman from the slums. She's as delicate and pure as a chamomile. She's his well-kept little secret—until I run into them at the woman's prenatal appointment one day. I storm up to him, demanding an explanation, only for him to nonchalantly hand me divorce papers. "Sonia is a devout follower of the church and can't have a child before marriage. I must make an honest woman out of her. Sign these, and you'll get 40% of the company's shares." I refuse to do as told, so he corners me. In the end, he has my crippled younger brother tied up and forced under a hydraulic compression machine. "Sign the papers, Maeve, or watch your brother become a human mince pie. The choice is yours." I fall on my knees and beg him to stop. As the machine turns on, my hands fly to my aching lower belly, and I scream as I lose consciousness. When I wake up again, I'm back in the hospital, in the same spot where I ran into my husband and his mistress at her prenatal appointment. This time, I don't confront him. Overnight, I make arrangements with a sanatorium abroad, get divorced, and run away from home. Yet the moment I truly disappear, my husband loses his mind.

When my dad died, my husband was at the airport—picking up another girl. She looked like me. Only difference? He actually loved her. I was just the stand-in. Three years of marriage? It cost me my dad... and every last shred of self-respect. But at least I finally saw him for who he was. I left the country in a soaked dress. That's when it hit him—what it really meant to lose. "Emily, I was wrong!" "Daniel Wilson, it's too late." Stand-ins don't get love. They get a new beginning.

After three years of courtship, Noah Howell finally agrees to marry me. However, on the day of our marriage, he abandons me on the altar in pursuit of his dream girl, Isabella Dawson. Furthermore, due to Isabella's baseless accusation, I end up in the sanitarium. While I suffer unimaginable torture in the sanitarium, Noah and Isabella are enjoying themselves out there, living the time of their life. By the time he remembers to bring me home, I'm already a broken soul. Later on, Noah begs me on his knees, his face full of tears. "Sadie, look! It's me, Noah!" With a sneer, I ask, "Who's Sadie?"

Jack Cooke—my husband, who'd never so much as scrambled an egg—suddenly went full kitchen freak. He bought a ton of pots and spatulas, then spent all day just... polishing them. When I called him out, he shrugged. "I like things clean. That a crime now?" Behind him? A mountain of dirty socks. Then it got weirder. He dragged all the kitchen stuff into our bedroom. At night, he'd get weird with a dishcloth. Like, disturbingly weird. I was done. I asked for a divorce. Jack stormed into a private dining room and shredded the papers right in front of our investors. "You're seriously ending our marriage over this? Kinda dramatic, don't you think?" I didn’t blink. “I gave up my spot for your pots and pans. A little thanks wouldn’t kill you.”

My wife's first love kills me without a shred of mercy. But my wife, a world-class surgeon, doesn't try to save me. Instead, she comforts her first love. "He's so ruthless! How could he hurt you this badly?" She even tells the police that I've severely injured her first love, claiming she wants to press charges for attempted murder. Then she points at my body and demands that I get up and apologize to her first love. "Charles, stop pretending! You just want me to pity you, right? Get up and apologize to Steven!" she yells.

My wife has suffered from hereditary migraines for years. After three years of marriage, I finally developed a specialized medication just for her. Carrying a lunchbox, I headed to her company, intending to deliver the medicine to her in person. But her secretary mistook me for a kept man. He dumped the contents of the lunchbox over my head, stripped off my clothes in front of everyone, and even made me swallow the only dose of that specialized medicine. "A mere food delivery guy, and you dare dress so indecently? Today, I'll show you exactly what happens to a homewrecker." Then, with a smug grin, he turned to claim credit with my wife. "Ms. Milstein, I took care of that food delivery guy who was trying to seduce you. How are you going to reward me?"

At the height of my career, I became the youngest law professor in the field and married my childhood sweetheart, Daisy Reid. We were known as the "golden couple of the legal world," and in the eyes of many, we were the perfect loving couple. In the tenth year of our marriage, my mother took my son, Caleb Davis, out, and they were involved in a car accident. The driver had been speeding while intoxicated. My mother only had enough time to shield Caleb in her arms before she died on the spot. To my surprise, my wife, Daisy, appeared and sat next to the murderer, James Benton, as his defense attorney in the courtroom. "Our client was just driving normally when the deceased suddenly rushed out in an attempt to stage an accident, which ultimately led to the accident. The deceased party should bear the main responsibility for the accident." Upon hearing that, I stared at her in disbelief. Soon after, anger surged within me. My eyes bloodshot, I growled, "My mom would never stage an accident! I have a witness!" However, the ten-year-old Caleb, who was to testify as a witness, grabbed James' arm and said, "I testify that Grandma was trying to fake an accident by purposely crashing into Mr. Benton's car. Dad even tried to make me lie. I would never hurt Mr. Benton." The moment those words left his mouth, my heart sank completely.

When my son suffered a heart attack in the middle of the night, I rushed him to the hospital where my wife worked. Instead of taking charge herself, she handed the operation to an intern. "New doctors need opportunities to learn. I'll be right there supervising. Nothing will happen." But before the surgery even began, a phone call pulled her away, leaving a trembling Marvin Vance alone in the operating room. My son never made it off the operating table. I collapsed in the hallway, sobbing in grief. Yet I overheard my wife gently comforting Marvin. "For your first surgery, you held on this long. You've done an amazing job, my little cinnamon roll." Awkwardly copying trendy slang younger people used online, she reassured him with endless patience. Then she turned to me with a cold expression and demanded that I sign a letter forgiving Marvin. "He has his whole future ahead of him. You can't destroy his life." I tore the document to pieces and threatened to call the police and expose what had happened. In response, she arranged for a medical donation and had my son's body dissected that very night. Driven insane by grief, I threw myself from a building while clutching my son's ashes. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day of my son's surgery. This time, I immediately contacted my parents and transferred him to another hospital. But that night, they still dissected a child.

On the day my daughter, Dakota Bradshaw, gets into a car accident, I rush over to save her, only to get crippled instead. Both my wife, Delilah Rowland, and Dakota don't mind the fact that I'm being a burden to them. Instead, they put in a lot of effort to take good care of me. But one day, a fire breaks out at home. Yet, Delilah personally closes my room door. Since I'm crippled, I end up falling to the floor in my state of panic. That's when I notice Dakota's shoes through the gap under the door. "Dakota, save me!" I call for help at the top of my lungs. But only the sounds of the crackling flames respond to me. I have no idea how much time has passed when I catch wisps of a conversation hazily. "Mom, the firefighters are here. What should we do?" Dakota's voice is very low. Delilah replies calmly, "Tell the police that your father started the fire when he was cooking. We just reached the corridor at that time, so the doorknob was already warped from the fire." Dakota simply says one word. "Okay."

After I get abducted to Paradise Island, I've attempted escape twice so far in order to avoid becoming the rich's plaything. The first time I get caught, on that very same night, I receive a video of my fiancee, Lucille Hoffman, getting torn into pieces by a school of piranhas. The second time I get caught, my older sister, Edith Cox, whom I've relied on since I was young, gets mutilated by the kidnappers on a cruise ship. Driven by despair, I agree to bind myself to a system. "As long as you earn enough points, you can revive your lover and your sister." From that day onward, I shed my pride and ego. I allow the electrified collar to dig deep into my neck. I keep getting tormented time and again until I lose consciousness. After undergoing yet another organ transplant that's forced onto me, I stare at the points, which are enough for me to revive Lucille and Edith. That's when a trace of hope emerges from my heart. Just as I'm about to hit the "confirm" button with a trembling finger, I hear a burst of laughter coming from a corner. "That idiot actually thinks he's bound to a system! He's still working hard to gather points just to revive his sister and his fiancee! Little does he know that Paradise Island, their deaths, as well as the system, are all big fat lies!" "I know, right? The rich really have a way of grooming people, huh? Apparently, Ms. Cox and Ms. Hoffman faked their deaths and created a fake system for this guy just because he had slapped Mr. Trenton back then and refused to apologize to him or admit his mistake. That's why they put on this act in order to teach him a lesson and make him yield to them." "Shh! Drop this topic for now! Ms. Cox and Ms. Hoffman are here to check on the training progress…" I feel as though I've plunged into an icy abyss. My ears begin ringing from shock and disbelief. That's when the poison I've taken in advance starts kicking in. Before I know it, blood begins streaming down the corner of my mouth uncontrollably. Just as my vision is going dark, someone kicks the door open.

Three years after I had made my girlfriend, Sophia Lambert, sleep with her superior, she finally went from being his lover to becoming his wife. Meanwhile, I barely made it out alive after years of being undercover in a drug trafficking ring. My body was broken beyond repair, and I had returned home only to wait for death. Sophia arrived with one of her arms wrapped around her husband’s during a charity visit for the poor. When she saw me standing in line for relief aid, she let out a mocking laugh. “Benjamin, how did you end up like this?” I hunched my shoulders. I hid the First-Class Merit Medal for Narcotics Enforcement I had received not long ago. After a long silence, I asked, “Are you happy now?” She twirled the diamond ring on her finger in a lackadaisical manner. “The wedding’s next week. What do you think? “If you want, you can even become a groomsman. Orlando believes in diversity. His groomsmen comprises of different kinds of guys. He’s just missing someone disabled.” I shook my head and turned down her offer. “No, I won’t be able to make it.” The poison in my body had already spread to my heart. I only had a few days left.