Contos de Romance sobre Melodramatic e Romances com Male POV e Face Slapping

Grandpa will be announcing his will at his birthday banquet. Apparently, I only possess the right to inherit the family's assets if I'm in a stable relationship with someone. I beg my girlfriend, Hannah Samson, countless times to have our relationship publicized. But she keeps using her overtime shift as an excuse. Today, she finally yields to me. "Alright. You should attend the family meeting first. I'll be there soon." The moment I step into the manor on my own, I hear my relatives' mocking laughter surrounding me. "You keep claiming that you're busy with your career every day. To think that you can't even bring your own girlfriend to this meeting! You do realize that your inheritance right depends on your partner, right? "Don't tell me you lied to us about having a girlfriend!" I clutch my phone tightly, feeling my palm going clammy with sweat. Time slowly ticks past. Just as Grandpa is about to read his will out loud, someone pushes the front door open abruptly. I turn around in delight, only for my smile to freeze on my face. Isaac Letterman, the fake heir, smiles wanly at everyone, his hand still laced with Hannah's. "Sorry, we're late." As I stare at the duo, I feel my heart plunging into an icy abyss. Then, I turn back to look at the relatives, who were mocking me earlier. "You said you wanted to see my girlfriend, right? That's her right there."

As Dad lies on his death bed, he rasps to me that his only wish is to watch me get married. I keep crying to the point that my sobs come out silent. My entire family turns to look at Whitney Pearson, who stands behind me. She lets out a small sigh before wiping my tears away for me gently. Then, she leads me out of the ward. But as soon as the door is closed behind us, Whitney's expression turns icy. "Joseph, we've been dating for seven years. You of all people should know very well that I hate getting coerced into doing something the most. "Love is all about going with the flow. We shouldn't let others determine how our relationship should progress." Then, she caresses my cheek reassuringly. "Let's not rush our marriage. We'll talk more about this once things settle down after my company goes public. What do you think? "Anyway, I still have a meeting to get to tonight. You should deal with your family as you see fit. I'll bring a gift for you when I come home later." Before I can say anything, Whitney spins on her heel and leaves with her secretary, Kaiden Xavier. The moment both of them disappear into the elevator, I witness Kaiden bending over slightly to brush Whitney's hair from her face for her. She makes no move to stop him at all. After drying my tears, I return to the ward and take Dad's hand with a smile. "Don't worry, Dad. I'll get married in three days. In fact, I'm still waiting for you to do my tie for me before the start of the ceremony."

I went to the hospital to pick up prenatal vitamins for my pregnant girlfriend, Nina Pringle, but I saw her in a room instead. She was staring at her ex, Shane Miller, guilt all over her face. "I'm sorry. I really didn't expect to get pregnant. "I told you, I'm with Felix just to see whether you still care about me..." Shane didn't hold back. "So when are you finally breaking up with him?" She shook her head, something cold flashing in her eyes. "He's been messing things up between us for too long. I'll make him feel guilty—get him to give me whatever I want... whatever we need. Don't worry. I don't love him."

While we're playing King's Game, Olivia Bennett's male best friend, Damien Hayes, has drawn the punishment lot that requires him to spill one of Olivia's secrets. He turns to look at me, a mysterious smile curling on his lips. "Olivia needs to get my permission whenever she wishes to sleep with Ethan." The atmosphere goes quiet immediately. As Damien licks his lips, he adds, "C'mon, there's no such thing as taboo when it comes to Olivia's birthday party! Why are you guys so quiet? I thought y'all are the type who's capable of taking jokes of any kind!"

I went to the bank to report a lost debit card. The teller casually asked, "Sir, there's a recurring patent royalty payment under your name. Would you like to link it to your new card?" Stunned, I froze. "What patent royalties?" The screen revealed that one of the accounts showed a quarterly deposit of $300 thousand in patent royalties. My mind went blank for a full three seconds. Then I remembered that, five years ago, my wife, Danica Pearson, had handed me a stack of documents, saying it was part of the company registration process. She said I "only understood technology, not business", effectively turning me into a figurehead consultant. I took a deep breath and told the teller, "Link it to the new card. From now on, transfer every payment directly to my personal account." That night, while Danica was overseas on a business trip, she booked the earliest flight home. At 2 a.m., she pounded on my bedroom door.

On the night I get dismembered, my girlfriend, Victoria Hewitt, announces her marriage to the world. Clad in the wedding dress that I've personally designed, she soon marries her first love, Joseph Danford, happily. When Victoria receives the news of my death, she merely smiles before claiming that I'm a pathological liar. But what she doesn't know is that I've died for her sake. Later on, Victoria constructs a sculpture out of my bones. She develops a habit of hugging it every day since then.

My wife has a severe sex addiction. But in the seven years we've been married, she never lets me touch her. To suppress her urges, she spends all day submerged in ice-cold water, and her arms are covered in needle marks. Several times, I try to initiate intimacy out of concern for her, but her reaction is terrifying. She even threatens to kill herself. "I told you, I only want a Platonic relationship in this lifetime. Can you stop being so selfish? If you insist on making me do that, I'd rather die!" she exclaims. She maintains this unusual obsession for seven years. Even after ending up in the hospital multiple times from suppressing her desires, she refuses to cross that line. Then, on our wedding anniversary, a man comes in for a pre-check of his phalloplasty enlargement for the ninth time. After the anesthesia takes effect, he begins rambling incoherently. "Honey, I love you so much." Looking at the surgical scars, I shake my head, thinking this guy is really willing to go to extreme lengths for his wife. Then, I hear his final murmur. "Tasha, aren't I so much better compared to your useless husband?" My hand jerks, and I nearly drop the scalpel. It is because my wife's name is Tasha Snyder.

At the World Rally Championship Final, my fiancee, Brielle Fuller, deliberately gave me the wrong turn call. Because of her, I lost the championship. Right there on the spot, she called off our engagement and ran straight into the arms of my rival, Chase Monroe. Just when I thought I'd lost everything, my childhood friend, Naomi Sutton, proposed to me. "It's okay. To me, you'll always be number one." Seven years later, I rebuilt my career and fought my way back to the top. Just as I was preparing to break Chase's championship record, a brake failure sent my car plunging off a mountainside. While drifting in and out of consciousness at the hospital, I overheard a conversation outside my room. "You're ruthless. You actually did something like this. Weren't you afraid he might die?" "If he dies, so be it. The only person I've ever loved is Chase. I only regret that you married him before I could. Otherwise I wouldn't have had to put myself through that all these years." I stared wide-eyed into the darkness. The love I thought was so deep was nothing more than wishful thinking. If they cared so much about Chase, then maybe I should disappear.

Ten minutes before the IPO, my lower body started burning with intense pain. The pain was so bad that my knees buckled and I fell from the stairs on the third floor. I hit my forehead, which started bleeding, and fresh blood dripped into my eyes. As I convulsed on the ground, my hands covered my crotch as my skin felt like it was being fried in boiling oil. My fiancée, Yvette James, came over in her high heels and kicked me in the thigh. "What's with all the pretense? It's just half a bottle of ointment poured down your pants." Her bestie, Henry Curtis, had his phone held toward me as he livestreamed the situation. He was bent over from laughing too hard. "Check this out, fam! This penniless loser is burning from the waist down! It's too funny!" I could hardly breathe from the pain, and I begged Yvette to get me an ambulance. Yvette rolled her eyes and pushed the camera into my face. "Henry is targeting 100,000 viewers for this live stream! Can you scream louder? Don't be a buzzkill! That thing between your legs is just like a toothpick. That ointment might give you a growth spurt, so you should thank me for it." My lower body had gone numb from the pain, and I saw the comments section ridiculing me. I stopped begging for help as I stared coldly at Yvette while giving the orders to pull her funds. "The wedding is off. Be prepared for your company's bankruptcy."

I had an arranged marriage, and my wife was the only daughter of her family. Because of PTSD, she couldn't be intimate with anyone. When she handed me the signed agreement, she also sent a gentle, obedient woman to my room. "Even though it's our wedding night, I'm afraid you'll have to put up with this." I stared at her in disbelief, wondering if this was some kind of test of my character. Just as I was about to launch into a speech about loyalty and marriage, I suddenly heard the thoughts of the psychologist standing beside her. [What does he have to complain about? That position should've been mine! If Kayla didn't need the Grant family's support, she never would've agreed to marry a loser like him! Luckily, Kayla loves me. She even used PTSD as an excuse to save herself for me. I just need to try harder and get her pregnant, then Benjamin Grant will become a complete laughingstock!] The words that had been on the tip of my tongue disappeared instantly. Without hesitation, I accepted Kayla's arrangement. There was nothing wrong with people in a business marriage living separate lives. I wasn't an idiot. Why would I pick a fight with Kayla over something like this? Living peacefully and minding my own business was the smartest choice. To show that I had no inappropriate intentions toward her, I even ordered maternity and baby supplies for her. "I heard you're pregnant. Coincidentally, the woman you sent to me is pregnant too." I was planning to ask her for some advice. Instead, her face darkened. She gritted her teeth and snapped, "I'm not pregnant! She's not your mistress either. She's the IVF coordinator I hired to get you up to speed!"

I've just received a text from my CEO wife, Cara Lavigne. Apparently, she's gone on another last-minute business trip again, so she can't accompany me to the funeral home. But soon, I see Cara's silhouette being captured in a photo, where she celebrates her assistant, Warren Stone's birthday with him in a work-related post he has just uploaded. The caption reads, "Thank you for the amazing cake, boss! I feel so happy to be able to celebrate my birthday!" I just smile calmly before leaving a like and a comment. "Happy birthday." My colleagues, on the other hand, start betting pools like mad to see what kind of tricks I'm going to pull this time in order to kick up a ruckus. Cara calls me immediately just to scold me. "Warren is just celebrating his birthday, so what's with the comment? He's a very sensitive person, you know! How is he going to survive in this company now that you've passive-aggressively humiliated him in that public post? "It's been barely two years since Warren joined this company, not to mention he doesn't have any friends! What's wrong with me celebrating his birthday with him, huh? People like you, who are born with silver spoons in their mouths, will never understand Warren's plight! "I want you to delete your comment right now! We'll talk more about this once I'm home! Your dad is already dead anyway, so you can just wait for a few more days before claiming his body!" I can only clench my fists tightly as I listen to Cara's heartless and nonchalant words. "No need for that." Once she is back, the divorce procedures will be done.

I'm playing hide-and-seek with my little niece. I close my eyes, count to 20, and head up to the attic, only to find the door padlocked shut. I turn to leave, but then I hear rustling on the other side. I tiptoe closer and press my ear against the wooden door. I'm about to shout, "Found you!" when I catch the sound of my buddy Alec Redmond's breathless breathing. "Cassidy, you think anyone's going to come up here?" My girlfriend, Cassidy Brennan, laughs softly. "Don't worry. I promised Cora I'd buy her that Barbie she's been wanting. She locked the door, so no one's going to find us." I freeze outside the door. My blood runs cold. This morning, Cassidy and Alec tell me they have a surprise planned for me. Then the two of them drive off together. I clench my fists until my knuckles go white. So, this is the real surprise.

I worked around the clock to put the finishing touches on my latest project and submit it just a week before our wedding. Over dinner, I mentioned to Jane Vance that we were working on a tight timeline and that we should get our wedding photos taken as soon as possible. Jane took a bite of the steak I'd made, looking as if she had just remembered something. "Oh, I forgot to tell you. Lucas and I got married." For a moment, I thought I'd misheard her. But she said it so casually. "I didn't really have a choice. Lucas hasn't been performing well at the lab for the past six months, and he's about to lose his job. If I marry him, Mr. Sterling will recognize Lucas as my spouse and allow him to stay." Seeing the shock on my face, Jane smiled and pinched my cheek. "Don't worry, nothing will change between us. We'll still treat each other the same way we always have." It took me a long time to find my voice. When I finally spoke, my voice was dry. "When did you two get married?" "Three days ago." The project reached its most critical stage three days ago. While I had been working myself to the bone for our future, she had gotten hitched to someone else.

For three years, I worked three jobs a day to send Wendy Stallone to university. In the end, I ended up doing all the chores at home as well. On the day Wendy graduated, the Stallone family came to bring her back to the family, and she turned into a socialite overnight. Everyone said my years of hardship had ended, and I was about to become rich. During the celebration party, Clark Quinn, Wendy’s childhood friend, sat beside her like he was born to orbit around her and asked me whether it was time for me to step aside. Wendy said nothing and just toyed with Clark’s fingers. Under the dazzling lights, I stared at her and asked calmly, “Are we going to break up?” She was stunned for a moment before she gave an awkward smile. “What on earth are you saying? Stop throwing a tantrum.” I could see that she was hesitating, and I just smiled faintly. “It’s fine. You don’t have to feel troubled about it. I’ll leave.” That night, I packed up my bags and left the rental house that had carried three years’ worth of memories of my life with Wendy. Behind me, I heard Wendy’s friends snickering. “Wendy, want to make a bet? In less than three days, that guy’s going to come back begging to get together with you again.” Wendy sipped some wine and said firmly, “Three days? He’s a poor idiot who can’t survive without me. He’ll be back tomorrow to make me breakfast.”

Jaime Barthes was the only son of the wealthiest family in Hartow City. Ever since he was a child, he could have anything he wanted. On his fifteenth birthday, he fell for Eden Hawthorn the moment he first saw her. Right then and there, he boldly declared, "She belongs to me, and nobody should ever think about touching her!" During the entire decade of their marriage, he was obsessively protective of her. She was forbidden from any kind of interaction with men, and she had to employ the help of her assistant for something as mundane as handing a report to a male colleague. Everyone assumed this was simply Jaime's love language. One day, he caught a terminal disease. The entire nation frantically searched high and low for a matching heart donor, and when they finally found one, Eden decided to give the heart to another man named Jericho Brown.