Forced Love Romance Short Stories & Novels

I get undressed and hide in my husband's dorm at work to surprise him. Yet it backfires on me—instead of my husband coming, his three colleagues are the ones who show up. They're thoroughly aroused by my lingerie and have their way with the cooking lady on the kitchen counter. It's such a raunchy scene that desire burns within me. I pleasure myself while watching them but accidentally moan out loud. The men turn to look at the closet where I'm hiding…

My fiancé was obsessively possessive. I was the newly found real daughter. To make sure I couldn’t leave him, he had thugs assault me in an alley. Then he showed up pretending to be my savior, taking the beating himself. I developed depression and had no choice but to rely on him. Then the fake daughter showed up with her gang. Grabbing my face, she sneered, "I'm the only daughter of the Shaw family!" I was dunked in a toilet, my face slashed, my body violated, and every wound sewn shut with needles. Blood covered the floor. My fiancé burst in with my parents. Seeing my state, they got furious. "You filthy maid's daughter! How dare you?"

Everyone in Eimport knew Ethan as a ruthless tycoon. Yet this same man humbly loved me. When his enemies kidnapped me for revenge, he charged bare-handed into an inferno so fierce even firefighters hesitated. I was unconscious but unscathed, while Ethan's right arm bore grotesque burns that would never fully heal. Unbothered, he even declared to the world that these scars were proof of our love. I was touched and browsed positions for couples online while he worked late. But everything shattered when I stumbled onto a video. The man's face was blurred, but the scar snaking up his wrist was unmistakable. The woman trapped in his gilded cage bore a striking resemblance to me. My heart hammered, torn between terror and devastation. That very night, I decided to leave and not ever see him again.

The day my husband left the country on a business trip with his assistant, I learned—by sheer accident—that his archenemy was plotting revenge overseas. Without a second thought, I raced to the airport and stopped him from boarding the plane. But his assistant went ahead, alone. And over there, she was killed brutally. Not a trace of her remains was ever found. When my husband received the news, he fell apart. Wracked with guilt, eaten alive by remorse, he spiraled into a relentless, violent mania. In the past three years, I'd been in and out of hospitals more times than I could count because of him. And this time, he pushed me so far—I lost our child. Then I overheard a conversation between him and his secretary. "Sir, Casey is still alive. Why keep pretending you're sick? Aren't you afraid your wife will find out and leave you?" "Leave me? What right does she have to be angry?" He laughed coldly. "If she hadn't stopped me from going abroad, Casey would've never been lured away by that bastard. Everything Linda's suffering now—she brought it on herself."

I was Brandon Sandler’s most cherished canary—pampered, sheltered, and utterly his for five years. Then came the news of his engagement to another woman. Only then did I realize his affection had been a carefully crafted revenge. He trapped me by his side, flaunting his love for another while subjecting me to relentless humiliation. Eventually, I stopped caring. But the ruthless business tycoon, who once held himself above all, clutched me with red-rimmed eyes, begging me to come home. He said he regretted everything. My hand instinctively cradled my stomach as I glanced at the man behind him. “Darling,” I murmured, “this man is scaring our baby.”

I've placed a no-limit bid just so I can buy Eloise Kane, the best underground boxer, from an underground boxing ring. Without even sparing me a proper glance, she's already naming her conditions with a sneer on her face. Apparently, she wants a deluxe apartment that's located in the heart of the city, a monthly allowance of ten million dollars, and most importantly, I mustn't interfere with her social circle. Everyone thinks I've gone nuts for buying myself a mistress just so I can cater to her whims and needs. But I don't mind at all. I just point at her left chest and tell her, "Just maintain a regular lifestyle. Don't let anything happen to your heart." I even go so far as to offend the heiress of the most prominent family in the elite society in order to defend Eloise. That is, until I heard Eloise gets stabbed for her jealous antics in a bar. By the time I arrive at the private room, I see her embracing a male escort while laughing at the top of her lungs. "Oh, I'm the one who hired someone to hit his sister with a car! It's best if she dies, though! That way, his assets will be mine! "Besides, he's just an idiot whose only purpose is to give me money! Who does he think he is, anyway?" Amid the eerie silence, I snatch up a wine bottle and smash it into Eloise's head. Then, I slam her head into the pile of blood-stained glass shards. After that, I dial the hospital's number. "Her heart is in top shape, and it's a perfect match. Tonight, you can wheel my sister into the emergency room. Time to prep for the heart transplant surgery."

In the eight years Mom worked as a maid at the Whitmore estate, I only went there seven times. She always thought I hated her boss's son, Ryan Whitmore. Then one day, she came home with boxes of leftovers. "How can a woman be that shameless? Ryan's getting married, and she still won't let go. "She must be smart, though. After all these years, Mrs. Whitmore still hasn't figured out who she is. "She said once she finds her, she'll ask the girl's parents what kind of daughter they raised." Mom kept talking, not noticing how pale I'd gone. That night, I broke up with Ryan at the condo. I cried until I couldn't anymore. Ryan said nothing. When my tears finally ran dry, he slipped a cigarette between his lips and let out a cold laugh. "Break up? Tanya Tayler, you think we're dating? Did you really think I was dating you? "Don't forget who you are. You're just the maid's daughter. I am just messing around. "Walk out of this room tonight, and I'll tell everyone the truth. "I'll tell them you did everything you could to seduce me."

I was a full-blown possessive psychopath, and so was the person I loved. By day, I worked diligently as his poker-faced secretary. By night, I used a burner account to flood him with messages, harassing him without restraint. After he rejected yet another one of my confessions through those texts, I took advantage of my position and impulsively installed 138 surveillance cameras in his home. I watched Cassian from every possible angle for an entire month. It was fun until I realized he seemed to be planning to imprison his crush. I was green with envy as I continued messaging him through my burner account. I even offered suggestions. "I once bought a set of incredibly practical chains. They're perfect for imprisonment. I guarantee that once your crush steps into your house, she'll never be able to leave. In exchange for sharing this great find, could you be my puppy for a month? Just one month." I waited for a long time after sending him the link to the chains. Alas, no reply ever came. Just when I thought Cassian would never respond to my alt account again, I woke up one day to find that I had been imprisoned. The chain bound around my ankle was exactly the one I had recommended. It didn't just end there, as I now had the dubious honor of being filmed by all 138 cameras I had installed in Cassian's home. I froze, completely stunned. 'What's going on? I'm the one Cassian wanted to imprison? I'm his crush?' As shock coursed through me, Cassian finally replied to my burner account. "Your chains work very well. Still, I'm sorry. I can't be your puppy. I only like my secretary."