Historias cortas y novelas de Male POV Romance

I had been dating a photographer for seven years, yet I didn't have a single decent photo of myself. "I only photograph scenery, not people," Nina Jensen said. She even said her last relationship ended because her ex-boyfriend kept asking her to take pictures of him. So for seven years, I stayed quiet. I never asked or brought it up. That was until today, when I came across the latest post from my influencer friend, Julian Locke. [Let me show off my photographer. She's been taking amazing photos of me for seven years for free!] One of the top comments is: [It's an honor to photograph my muse.] The profile picture was completely white. The tone felt familiar, and it sent a chill through my entire body. Turns out, it wasn't that Nina didn't take photos of people. She just never wanted to take mine. 'Nina. If I don't exist in your viewfinder, from now on, you don't exist in my world either.'

After the socialite heiress gets dumped by a poor student named Andrew Stephens, she goes completely mute. Her mother, Nora Booker, announces that whoever gets her daughter to speak again will be given a million dollars. I make my way through all the men trying to get through to her and say, "Wasn't it just last night that you were calling me 'Daddy' in bed?" "That didn't happen!" Alicia Ellison blurts out. Nora wires me a million dollars on the spot. Over the moon, I follow Alicia around every day, teasing her while making a killing. She can't talk back and can't hit me, so out of frustration, she shuts me up with her own mouth. Overnight, I go from the heiress' personal companion to the heiress' official boyfriend. Every time I crack a dirty joke, she makes sure to get back at me until I don't have the nerve to say it again. Right before our wedding, her first love comes back after life gives him a serious beating. That night, Alicia doesn't come home. Grabbing the remaining half box of condoms and the savings I've accumulated over the past ten years, I walk out of our home. After delivering the condoms to them, I use my savings to buy myself a plane ticket back home.

Abigail Southall, my wife, has once again lost Ethan and Owen Lincoln, the two young men she keeps by her side. She is trying to coax them to return this time by offering a signed divorce agreement. I have witnessed this routine of running away and chasing countless times. I throw fits, cause scenes, and even try running away from home like those two, but every single time, all she does is hand me a check with a larger amount than before. She then flashes a mocking smile and asks, "Is that enough for you?" I calmly take the divorce agreement and sign my name on the line. Abigail, holding my hand in satisfaction, says, "It's just a divorce for show; I'll withdraw it before the cooling-off period ends. I'm glad you are finally being reasonable. I mean, women of my status all have a desire to conquer, especially when it comes to dealing with a pair of aloof young men. "I'll come back to you so that we can settle down and live a good life once I win them over." I offer no rebuttal and simply pick up the check from the floor, thinking that she has no idea that I'm not going to wait for her anymore.

Jeannie Gray kicks me to the ground. I get on my feet, dust off the shoeprint she left on my pants, and smile as I straighten her shoe, which crookedly dangles from her foot. At that moment, my phone buzzes with a message informing me that Jeannie's older brother has wired my five-million-dollar severance pay into my account. I get on a flight and flee overnight, posting a link on Facebook Marketplace with the caption, "Hiring emotional support companion for S-tier psychotic female CEO from Elmsdale. Includes onboarding training. Pays 200,000 a month." Not three minutes later, young men in college looking for a shortcut to success flood the comment section with biddings. Two years later, I'm sprawled over a cot in a massage parlor. The masseuse, Rory Jacobs, has just begun kneading the knots in my lower back when someone kicks the lounge door open. As the door rattles against its frame, Jeannie storms in and pulls me into a tight embrace. Her voice is hoarse and shaking, and I feel hot tears falling on my neck. "Please come back. Gray Corporation is yours, and so am I!"

My wife, Lindsey Kelsey, suffers from an aversion to intimacy. For ten years of marriage, she pushed me away again and again. Then, on our anniversary, she abandoned me and, in front of the crowd, kissed another man with reckless passion before the two of them walked hand in hand into a luxury hotel. Afterward, Lindsey brazenly declared that a real man should be magnanimous, not petty. Magnanimous? Then I wish them both eternal bliss—may they be bound so tightly they can never break free from one another. Later, I handed Lindsey the divorce papers with a blank expression. I was determined to walk away from her. But Lindsey went mad when she realized she couldn't find me anymore.

My whole family was sent to prison. I was forced to marry into the household of the regent princess in order to keep them safe. On our wedding night, she pinned me on the bed and twirled herself all around me like we were deeply in love. When morning came, I thought I had protected my family. But then the royal decree arrived. My entire family had been sentenced to execution. I kneeled outside the princess' residence and begged for mercy. I groveled until my forehead bled, but still, I refused to stop. The princess looked down at me and sneered. "Michael Shaw, if your father hadn't leaked the secret, I would never have ended up in that deadly situation. My leg would never have been broken."

After Cassian Frick scatters my mother's ashes, Serena Skelding and he become sworn enemies. To stand up for me, Serena drives her car into Cassian and breaks his leg. They remain locked in a bitter feud for five years. It finally comes to an end when Serena marries me, and Cassian leaves the country in disgrace. Three years later, Cassian shows up again at a class reunion. Someone urges him to liven things up. Cassian looks at Serena and smiles. "She and I once had a child. We went at it too roughly and lost it, though. Before I went abroad, she promised me she'd mourn our unborn child for three years." As he says this, he gives me a meaningful look. "Hey, you still haven't slept with her, have you?" I whip my head around and stare at Serena, demanding an explanation. But all she does is nonchalantly pat my hand and say, "After midnight, you can touch me." The normal intimacy between husband and wife somehow becomes a privilege she bestows upon me. She acts as if she's throwing me a bone. At that moment, I suddenly realize how laughably foolish I've been.

Six weeks before their wedding, Marielle Rousseau tells Dorian Halberg she wants to have another man's baby. When he refuses, she brings it up day after day. Fifteen days before the ceremony, Dorian finds her pregnancy report. She's already nearly a month along. She never intended to wait for his consent. In that moment, the love he's carried for years begins to disappear. Dorian cancels the wedding, destroys the keepsakes of their relationship, and on what should have been his wedding day, walks into a high-security research facility that cuts him off from the outside world. From then on, Marielle has no place in his life.

The day they ripped out my spiritual root, the snow came down hard. I lay on the freezing altar as my fiancee tore the Supreme Bone from my chest and stitched it into the chest of the man she loved. She smiled and said it was for the good of the school. I was left powerless and thrown into the Abyss of a Thousand Bones to die. However, they had no idea that a mysterious book with no words was hidden inside me. Only the deepest hatred and the agony of being on the brink of death could awaken it.

Everything is ready on the day of my wedding. But the bride, Adella Marlowe, is nowhere to be seen. That's when she texts me on my phone. Apparently, as a national shooting champion, there's a last-minute competition that she has to attend right away, all consequences be damned. But the next day, I see a social media post uploaded by Raiden Chase, the newest recruit in Adella's team. In the photo, I see Adella with one foot on a dead wild boar while propping her gun with a proud smile on her face. The caption goes, "I'm so glad to have a wife who's also a national shooting champion! Now, Grandma won't have to worry about her corn fields getting attacked by wildlife!" As I stare at the post, I just smile and leave a comment. "As expected of the champion whose heart goes out to the normal folk!" Adella quickly calls me the next moment. "Delete your comment right now! Also, stop being all passive-aggressive around me! It's just a missed wedding; must you be so snide about it?" This isn't Adella's first time leaving me at the altar. It's been two years, and every time she ditches me at the altar, she always has an excuse to do so. I just hang up on Adella without saying a word. She's right, though. This is just a wedding, isn't it? I might as well call it off once and for all.

As I casually opened the online forum, a trending post at the top caught my eye. [Share the wildest thing you’ve ever done.] I clicked on the second comment, which seemed to contain just one line. [Without a doubt, it was the night before my buddy’s wedding when I had his wife come over for a “quality check.”] However, the poster kept adding to the thread. [That night, the woman tricked that idiot into thinking it was a bachelorette party, but she actually spent the whole night at my place. [She said she didn’t want to sleep with just one man forever and needed one last wild night before tying the knot. [By the end of the night, her throat was nearly raw from all the screaming. [We kept going until sunrise, right there in the wedding car her husband was supposed to pick her up later that day.] [Not only that, but even after they got married, this fool kept bringing his wife over to my place for dinner. [He’d help me in the kitchen while I pinned his wife against the fridge and kissed her. [He’d be glued to the game in the living room while his wife knelt in the bathroom and took care of me. [One time, when he passed out drunk on my couch, his wife and I had our own fun on the carpet beside him. [Every time he rolled over, we’d both jump. It was the thrill of knowing we could get caught at any moment.] The image loaded, revealing the familiar interior of the wedding car. The lucky charm I had given my wife dangled from the rearview mirror. My fingers momentarily stiffened, and I nearly dropped my phone. A wave of nausea rolled in my stomach as a chill crept up my spine. Just then, a hand appeared in my field of vision, waving in front of me. “Calvin, what are you zoning out for? You’re at my place, and you’re still on your phone. Come on. Dig in while it’s hot.” Wyatt Preston, my friend, grinned at me. Yet, his eyes kept straying toward my wife, Queenie Jennings, who was sitting beside me.

After four years of supporting the prettiest girl on campus who was secretly penniless, Hayden Simpson had spoiled Sylvie Scott so rotten that even a single strand of her hair was precious. He used his connections to search for kidney donors across the country, saving her mother from the clutches of death. He pulled strings at an elite school in Jamesville to enroll her younger brother, Morgan Scott, grooming him into a proper gentleman. He spent a fortune investing in her entrepreneurial project, making her a successful businesswoman. On the eve of their wedding, Hayden unexpectedly saw her childhood sweetheart, Joshua Gillman, embracing her. His eyes were rimmed red as his heart broke inside his chest.

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.

Before the company Ruby Lane and I built finally landed a multimillion-dollar funding, she had agreed that we would get married once the deal closed. But when I rushed to the celebration party that night, I saw Ruby kissing the investor, Jack Hunter, in front of everyone. Then, she proudly held up their marriage certificate. Jack took the microphone and said, "To prove I'm serious, I didn't just invest money into the company, I gave myself too! My wife will lead this company to even greater heights!" My colleagues all looked at me, expecting me to cause a scene. Instead, all I did was smile as I clapped. "That's great news! I wish both of you a happy life from now on and hope that the company goes public soon!" The entire room went into an uproar. After the party, Ruby pulled me aside to explain what happened. "Jack throws money at this project like it's nothing to him. He just wants to know what marriage feels like, that's all. Did you really have to act that childishly just now? "Once the company goes public, I'll divorce him. Then, I'll make it up to you by doubling the amount of shares you'll get. You can see the big picture, right?" I smiled and stepped back. "Don't bother. The share price would have crashed. We're done, Ruby."

I've raised my son, Caleb Bennett, for nine years, but today I found out he was never mine. Claire Bennett, my wife, shamelessly tells me to leave with nothing. She says Caleb's real father is Lincoln Lancaster, heir to the most powerful family in Berglaton. The Lancaster family has few direct heirs left, so if Lincoln acknowledges Caleb as his son, Lincoln can easily surpass his frail uncle and become the rightful successor. Caleb says, "You think you deserve to be my dad? My real father could crush your whole family with a snap of his fingers!" Margaret Quigley, Claire's mother, adds, "If Claire hadn't gotten pregnant with Lincoln's child back then, do you really think we'd have let someone like you marry into our family?" I don't fight back. I just sign the divorce papers in silence. After that, I take out my phone and call my father, James Lancaster, who has been waiting for me in Berglaton all these years. "Come pick me up on Christmas Eve," I say. "I'm ready to go home and take over the family."

Kyson Ellis, the young man sponsored by my wife, Lara Sterling, earned a near-perfect SAT score and was accepted into one of the country's most prestigious universities. As a reward, Lara granted him "Adult Privilege." At a business dinner, Lara had him sit in my seat while our clients toasted him. Smiling, she introduced him to our partners. "He just turned eighteen, so I'm letting him experience the adult world a little early. Turns out he's even more mature and gracious than Nolan Taylor, my husband." She even handed him access to our joint bank account, claiming it was to "teach him how adults manage money." When I merely glanced through the transaction history, she instinctively stepped in front of him and shot me a cold look. "He only bought ten Rolex watches. Kyson is learning how adults handle money. What's wrong with that? You weren't even this responsible with money back then." After a long day at the office, I came home to find Kyson wearing my silk pajamas, sprawled across the bed in our master bedroom, scrolling through his phone. Lara sat beside him, feeding him blueberries. She looked up at me and said matter-of-factly, "The guest room doesn't get enough light. It'll strain his eyes if he uses his phone in there. You can sleep in the guest room tonight. You're an adult. Don't pick on a kid." I stared into her eyes without saying a word. So this was how it worked. Whenever it suited her, Kyson was old enough to enjoy "Adult Privilege." And the moment it didn't, he was a child again.

On the day before the competition, someone knocked me out when I was on the street before locking me up in a cage. For three days and three nights, I was chased around by a ferocious dog that kept biting and attacking me. Because of that, my wounds began leaking pus due to infection. Later on, five rich ladies had me locked up in a room. After chaining me up like a dog, they began tormenting me out of fun. When I finally got rescued, I had suffered from countless fractures. Even my internal organs went out of place from the beatings. My older sister, Claire Bowman, whom I'd been relying on since young, had me sent to the hospital immediately. There, I received a rabies vaccine. Meanwhile, my fiancee, Heather Vega, killed the mutt right in front of me in order to help me exact vengeance. She also stripped those ladies down and put them through a humiliating parade in public. After that, she kicked them off to the slums, where they became playthings for the beggars. But as I was lying on the hospital bed, I accidentally overheard Claire and Heather's conversation. "Do you think Christopher will resent us if he ever finds out that we're the ones who've set the dog and the ladies on him just so we can make Samuel the winner of the competition in order to repay him for his benevolence?" Heather's tone was unusually icy. "Christopher's just a replacement for Samuel. This is his fault for not knowing his place and insisting on fighting over the top spot with Samuel! I'm just teaching him a lesson! "Soon, I'll marry him in order to make it up to him. Then, I'll take care of him for the rest of his life. This is already enough." I did my best to hold my tears back while feeling my heart throb in pain. It turned out that the most important women in my life were also the ones who had ruined my lifelong dream. Since they didn't care about me at all, I chose to abandon them as well.

During my mother's prenatal testing, the doctor discovers that I, the baby she's carrying, have the XYY syndrome. Since Mom's health is frail, it will be hard for her to have another baby. My parents somberly decide to have me anyway. When I'm in elementary school, my nanny is playing with me when I accidentally break her arm by stepping on it. During middle school, a few thugs try to rob me on the street, only to end up in the hospital because of me. This one incident makes me famous. Word keeps spreading until I become known as a bully in school. No one dares to offend me at all. I've since graduated from college. During a class reunion with my college classmates, Zoey Johnson, my girlfriend of three years, brings Michael Greer, her male best friend, with her. When a game of Truth or Dare starts, Michael bluntly shares one of Zoey's secrets. "I know she has a mole on one of her nips." He looks smug about what he has just revealed. Everyone else has fallen silent. After glancing at Zoey, who's sitting beside Michael, I pull her off the couch and say, "Take your top off. Let's see if he's telling the truth."

In order to gather 500 thousand dollars for my blind girlfriend's surgical bills, I've accepted a delivery order that's meant for someone at a private racing club. The huge floor-to-ceiling monitor is currently playing the live footage of the champion who's won the racing tournament. Champagne bottles can be seen spraying everywhere as the audience cheers loudly for the victor. Soon, the champion takes off her helmet and shakes her head full of curls off her face. Strikingly beautiful features are revealed the next moment. Next to the champion stands her childhood friend, Lewis Ross. I feel my hands clenching around the plastic bag containing the food containers. The woman shown on the screen is none other than Evelyn Carter, my so-called blind girlfriend. "Why aren't you happy even though you've won the tournament, Evelyn? Are you missing that boyfriend of yours who's still working his ass off for money?" A familiar voice comes from the lounge. An amused yet malicious smirk is played on Evelyn's lips at the moment. "Why did you bring him up? Then again, it's thrilling, pretending to be blind and all. Whenever he changes his clothes at home, he does it right in front of me." Everyone around Evelyn begins roaring with cheers. "You're so lucky, Ms. Carter!" After taking a sip from her champagne glass, Evelyn responds in a flippant tone, "Lucky? He's so busy with work every day just to gather enough money for my surgical bills! That man doesn't have a single romantic cell in him—he's just as stiff as the stick up his ass!" A wave of laughter echoes from the crowd once again. Feeling as though my blood had turned to ice, I turn on my heel and begin walking out of the club. I can still hear Lewis' cheeky voice ringing out from behind me. "There are only three days left in our one-year bet, Evelyn. Don't tell me you really fell for your boyfriend!" Evelyn merely snorts in response. She drawls back, "Don't worry. I'll dump him in three days."

At my father's wake, my wife came in carrying her son. The boy was less than two years old. He was not mine. In front of me, in front of every person there to mourn my father, she opened the urn and held the boy over it. I screamed and lunged for the urn. The Vance security team was on me before I cleared the aisle. They held me on the floor. My father's ashes, mixed with the boy's urine, smeared across my face and into my mouth. I could not stop crying. Stella Vance straightened her skirt. "Zane has been crying every night. Our adviser said the ash of an honored elder will calm a child like that. Good for his health." The taste of metal came up the back of my throat. Before I could move, she was already at the door. "Have his ashes dried out by morning. Zane will need it again tomorrow night." By the time I came back to myself, she was gone. I held the rage in. I sent her one message. "You think you're going to do this to my father. You're insane. The divorce papers are coming." After that, every message I sent was blocked. I turned to the woman next to me, the woman who had stood beside me my whole life. And I said, "I will sign the company over to you. Help me bury Vance Group." Cassia Wynn looked at me a long time. "I don't want the company. I want you." I went still. Then I said, "Yes."