Devotion Romance Short Stories & Novels

By the fifth year of my marriage to Noah Lester, everyone insisted that I, Emma Newman, was his eternal muse. But I knew the truth. Behind my back, Noah cycled through a parade of fresh-faced, eager lovers. He even flaunted them at social gatherings, swapping one for another with shameless ease. When friends teased him—"Didn’t you swear Emma was the love of your life? Why the revolving door of mistresses?"—he’d just laugh, arms slung around his latest conquests. "Once you’ve caught your muse the glow fades. Give me someone new and tender any day—at least they keep things exciting." So I began plotting my escape. What Noah never realized was that I had grown tired of him, too. Tired of this life, of these performances. I was done.

Despite my parents' objections, I stay by Julian Grant's side for ten years. He goes from having nothing to building his own empire. The moment it's time to fulfill our ten-year promise, I proudly tell my parents I'm going to marry him. But then, he gives the vice president position meant for me to another woman. I confront him only to overhear a woman's hesitant voice behind the door. "Mr. Grant... you gave me the VP role, but what about Ms. Jones? Aren't you two getting married?" Julian's tone is cold and sharp, though his face is calm and unaffected. "Noelle's been with me for ten years. Who else would even want her? Relax—she won't dare make a scene." The words hit me like a slap to the face. Without another word, I turn and make a call to my arranged marriage contact. "Are you free?" I ask. "Let's get married."

“Boo, I’ll call you once I’ve booked my plane ticket.” Lily Lark was shocked. “Have you finally come around?” Aqua Chronos was not done speaking, but the noise outside ruined her mood. At that point, John Frank and Will Lane must be throwing a celebration for Samara Queen. Aqua walked out of the washroom and wanted to head to the president’s office to hand in her resignation letter. But Samara saw Aqua and beckoned her over. She spoke cutely and sweetly, “Aqua, are you leaving alone again? Come over and have some fun with us!” Everyone in the room heard her. “No need. Have fun.”

Yvonne Sunderland married Zach Frank, who had been with her for ten years. In the second year of their marriage, Zach passed away due to a plane accident. But when Yvonne turned forty-three, she met her supposedly dead husband! Before she could even ask any questions, disaster struck. An avalanche suddenly struck. During the critical moment, Zach was buried under the snow in order to protect her and that woman. His final words were, “I’ve repaid you all of your favors with my life. If I can redo my life, I don’t want to marry you and would rather meet her first…” When she opened her eyes again, Yvonne found herself back to the first year she married Zach.

After I accidentally uploaded a rant post instead of my resignation letter, the messages went like this. Me: [Did you see the file I submitted?] He: [Mm… yeah. I saw it.] Me: [Then why didn't you reply? You don't approve?] He went quiet. I lost my patience and typed back, [If you're not saying anything, I'll take that as a yes. I'll come by your office this afternoon.] He replied almost instantly. [That fast?] Me: [Fast? How is that fast?] He: [I need some time to think.] Two seconds later, another message came in. [Is that okay?] I said yes. He ended up leaving work early and even gave the entire company three days off. Sitting at my desk, I thought about it for a long time. He was the owner of the company, yet there he was, acting like he was afraid I might leave. Was he really that desperate to keep me?

Just as the Garner family teeters on the edge of bankruptcy, Seth Garner's parents come to my doorstep. They beg for a marriage alliance. My father knows I've loved Seth for ten years. So, he pours ten billion into the Garners to save their empire and marries me off to him. On our wedding night, Seth blindfolds me with red silk and takes me again and again with ruthless intensity. A month later, I excitedly bring him the pregnancy report. However, I overhear him at a bar, laughing with his friends. "So, who do you think knocked up Luna?" Laughter erupts. "Seth, don't tell me the child's mine!" "I bet a hundred grand it's his!" That’s when I realize the man in my bed on our wedding night wasn't even Seth. I storm in and demand answers, but he just sneers. "What are you crying for? If your family hadn't threatened me with money and driven Ash away, you think I'd treat you like this? "Let me be clear—the day Ash forgives me is the day I let you go." Dead inside, I ask for a divorce. He responds by threatening me with footage from our wedding night and locking me in the basement. "You're not leaving. You owe Ash, and you'll repay it!" Eight months later, I die in that basement, along with the baby I couldn't deliver. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the day the Garner family first begs my father for that deal. This time, Seth is the one crying on my wedding day.

“I’ve made up my mind, I’m going to leave the Emersons and move overseas to live with you.” Cecil Miller’s aunt, Dianne Miller, was thrilled to hear this. She then thoughtfully advised Cecil. “Alright, Cecil, I'll help you with the immigration right away. It will take about a month so you should use this time to get together with your friends since it’s not very likely you’ll see them again once you come to Vinland. Make sure you say your goodbyes. “Don’t forget Cleo especially. He raised you since you were a kid, so you should thank him for everything he’s done for you.” Cecil gave Dianne her word. After hanging up, she left the balcony. As she was heading to the living room, she caught herself sneaking a glance at the picture set on the table.

The Langston brothers once vowed that they wouldn't marry anyone but me. However, when it's time for me to pick one of them as my husband, they both turn me down. Nigel says, "My career is my priority. I'm not considering marriage at the moment." Shawn says, "Sorry, but I haven't had enough fun yet." Shortly after, they make my asthma act up during my engagement party just so they can please their new princess. As I writhe from the lack of oxygen, they cover her eyes so she won't see. They also mock me, saying I won't die from this. That kills me inside. When I wake up in the hospital, I call my father. "I'll marry the heir of the Blackwell family."

My parents died in an accident when I was 16 years old. That leaves me and my stepbrother, Freddie Sanford, to rely on each other. At 20 years old, I get drunk and confess my feelings to him. But instead of being gentle as usual, he lashes out in fury. "Rosalie Hunter, do you have no shame at all? I'm your brother!" From that day on, he gets back together with his first love, Bianca Reed. His attitude toward me plummets and turns cold as ice. What Freddie doesn't know is I'm sick. To me, every day feels like a countdown. On the day of their wedding, I quietly reach the end of my life. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to two years ago. At the same time, I learn an unbelievable piece of news. Freddie has been dead for three years.

Bertrand Callum was a well-known lawyer in our circle and my fiancé. We had agreed to go on our honeymoon right after registering our marriage. But he broke that promise again and again. He took his secretary to every place I had dreamed of visiting. On my birthday, he brought her to Saltorlini, the place we had planned to go together. Later, he gave up our marriage registration just because she had sprained her ankle. Even when I was in a car accident and on the verge of death, he hung up on my call for help because of something she said. After I recovered, I went alone to Acreatic, a place I had always longed to see, and moved out of the home we once shared. A week after I left, Bertrand called to scold me. "Annie, you need to stop overreacting. Are you really going to divorce me over something so trivial?" I wanted to remind him that we had never actually registered our marriage. But ultimately, I shut up and said nothing. After all, there was nothing between us anymore.

My cousin, Myra Walsh, leaves a voice message in the family group chat in a mean and uncouth manner. "Mom, I'm not meeting that guy who drives a rundown car. One look at him tells me that he's a single pathetic loser." She then kicks my chair. "Hey Sam, that useless piece of shit is a good match for you. Why don't you take my place on the blind date?" I follow Myra's line of sight. There's an old-looking car parked outside, and the owner, Henry Quinton, is currently reclining against the car while smoking. My entire family thinks he's just an ex-convict who has just gotten released from prison and is unable to land a job yet. I'm the only one who knows that's not the truth. Last week, when I was carrying out my internship at a bank, I witnessed the bank manager inviting Henry into the vault. Apparently, the trail of numbers Henry has in his savings is as long as a phone number. After putting on some makeup on my face to make me pure and innocent, I put on an oversized shirt before heading out of the apartment. In the cold wind, I cower slightly from the cold as I hand a thermos flask over to Henry. "Sir, Maya said she's not a match for you, so I'm here in her place." Henry snuffs out his cigarette, his gaze fixing on my flapping hem for three seconds. "Lass, if you want to be with me, you'll have to suffer tremendously in life." "I'm willing to go through anything as long as I get to be with you." That night, Maya flaunts photos of the bag a rich scion has given her. As for me, I've gone over to Henry's apartment.

I have a fortune worth more than ten billion dollars, and I showed up to my high school reunion in an old hoodie. Someone asked how I'd been doing. I gave them a pained smile. "Bad investments. I owe seven million." The words were barely out when the prom queen on my right quietly slid her chair away from me. The class president on my left clapped me on the shoulder, then turned around and went off to toast somebody else. I took in every expression in that room and played my part to the end. After it broke up, a transfer notice popped up on my phone. $100,000 received. Underneath it was a note. [This is all I have right now. Use it for the emergency. There's no rush to pay me back.] The sender was Grace Quinn, the girl who confessed to me at graduation and got turned down in front of everyone.

I grew up starved for affection. So when I started dating an insanely controlling boyfriend, I acted scared, resistant, and constantly on edge. But secretly? I loved every second of it. He made me report where I was at all times. Checking my phone was routine. Deleting people from my contacts was practically a habit. Other people would’ve found it suffocating. All I felt was loved. But lately, he’d changed. His instant replies turned into hours of waiting. He used to check up on me three times a day. Then it became once every three days. Eventually, he stopped checking altogether. I felt disappointed. And hurt. Then one day, I suddenly heard his thoughts. [She’s too obedient. It’s boring.] [She wasn’t like this before. She’s getting more and more boring.] I stared blankly at my phone. The screen lit up. A message had just come in from my first love. The dangerously possessive one who had always been completely obsessed with me. 'Baby, I’m back.'

Shannon Gray loved Sean Ford wholeheartedly, regardless of her loneliness or feelings of lack of accomplishment.She once believed that he would be her forever until the end. However, things happened the other way around. Finally, she woke up when he pushed her to the edge of the cliff for another woman, only then did she know that she was just a passerby in his life and he would never be hers…Sean, you will regret this one day. In fact, no one can escape from feeling helpless. Perhaps, I will be gone when you decide to come back...

My flight was suddenly canceled, so I dragged my suitcase back home. As soon as I stepped inside, I saw torn black stockings scattered on the floor. This was the eighth time Simon Jones had brought a different woman home. The sound of running water and a young woman’s laughter echoed from the bathroom. I didn’t cry or make a scene. Instead, I sat quietly on the couch, waiting for them to finish. Everyone assumed I would continue being Simon’s devoted fool like before. But no one knew that the man I truly loved had returned. After tonight, Simon, the stand-in, would be discarded.

At six in the evening, Allen Bennett prepared a perfect dinner, with each dish carefully chosen to match Sarah Foster's preferences. By seven, he had run her bath, adding lavender essential oils and rose petals to the warm water, filling the bathroom with a calming fragrance. By eight, he placed her comfortable slippers by the entrance, awaiting her return. At nine, the front door finally opened. Sarah walked in, and Allen immediately went to greet her. With practiced grace, he helped her out of her coat and placed her slippers before her feet, then hung the coat in the entryway closet. Turning to her with a gentle smile, he asked, "Would you prefer to have your bath first or would you like to eat?"

The day Pedro Palmer's mom was supposed to get my kidney, I ghosted. He waited outside the OR for ten hours. What did he get? A death notice. After that, he went full beast mode on his career. Five years later, his company blew up. Media darling. CEO. Power suit. And yeah, he was holding another girl's hand, all smiles for the cameras. "Do you have anything to say to Ruth Rackham? We heard she supported your early days," a reporter asked. Not even a pause. "Yeah. Thanks for vanishing. For letting my mom die with questions. For wrecking me. She taught me not to trust anyone." He stepped in closer, eyes cold. "This is what you wanted, Ruth? Too bad. Love's gone. And you? Not even worth my hate." That's when Nellie Lyon, the reporter, went pale. "Mr. Palmer... Ruth Rackham died five years ago. She was the test subject. She donated her body—before she passed..."

At our daughter’s three-month milestone party, my husband Garrett’s so-called "best friend" publicly humiliated me. “Hey, Vivian. I heard you're a little loose down there after popping out the kid.” "If it's that bad, you better get some tightening surgery quick—don't wanna mess up your marriage vibes!" Garrett shot her a playful glare and snapped, "Knock it off, Scarlett! You can't just say whatever pops into your head." Then he turned to me with a breezy shrug. "She's just like that—total tomboy. We grew up together; she means no harm." Scarlett shook her half-exposed breast and pouted, "Oh, come on, don't take it personally, Vivian. Honestly, I'm kind of jealous of you." "See, my problem is the opposite. I'm way too tight—hurts like hell during my period. No clue who's gonna get lucky with this later." Then she cut her eyes toward Garrett with a playful wink. " Oh right, you've tried it before, haven't you?" The room went dead silent. Every pair of eyes drifted toward me, barely concealing their curiosity. I smiled, set down my wine glass, and looked at Scarlett with fake concern. "That's strange. I don't remember making it that tight when I did your surgery."

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?"

As the daughter of a billionaire, I grew up in a world full of luxury. But when I turned 18, I gave everything I had to my brother's best friend, Nathan Gildon. He was the one my brother trusted most, the one he personally brought up. Nathan was smart and ambitious, and when he smiled, it felt as if he was handing you the whole world. I had had a crush on him for years. Last night, I thought he finally loved me back. I thought I wasn't just the girl who snuck glances at him across crowded parties anymore. I thought I was the woman he'd bring into his future. But the next morning, I heard him on the balcony, laughing with an investor friend. "Mavis is just practice. I need some experience before I pursue Claire. Besides, her family can open a lot of doors for me." I didn't cry, question him, or explain myself. I just packed my bags and changed my college applications. One week later, I was on a plane to Eltoria. And the man who betrayed me that night? He went crazy trying to win me back.