Mistress Romance 短篇故事與 Fake Death 小說

I had been engaged to Atlas Payne, a powerful CEO, for five years. This was the 21st time he had canceled our wedding ceremony. The first time, his secretary, Jasmine Scott, sprained her ankle. He left me by the roadside and rushed to the hospital. The second time, Jasmine cried and made a scene on the eve of our wedding, so he left me alone on the red carpet. The Payne family was powerful, while I was merely the daughter of a housekeeper. Therefore, everyone advised me to just deal with his mood swings. Every time Atlas left me behind, he would solemnly apologize and promise me that the next wedding attempt would definitely go smoothly. I kept believing him. Even though I was not the family's legitimate mistress, I still handled all the family affairs for him. I waited and waited, but the wedding ceremony never came. All I received was news that Jasmine was pregnant. This time, I had no reason to convince myself to stay. "I will never let you leave my side. If you ever disappear, I’ll make sure to use my family's influence to find you." The sweet words he once said to me were now a cage that trapped me. On Christmas Day, I prepared to leave him for good. I started a fire at home. Even the most powerful family would not be able to find someone who was supposedly dead. Years later, I unexpectedly came across Atlas kneeling at my ‘grave’. He was always so stern, but now, he was crying and begging me to come home and see him again.

Lucien Arden took the throne. He crowned Rosalind Hartwell empress. And Evelyn Hartwell—the principal wife who had fought at his side all the way from embattled prince to emperor—was given only the rank of Imperial Consort. The day the decree came down, Silverleaf Palace was completely silent. Every servant kept their head lowered and hardly dared to breathe, afraid that Evelyn would weep, or throw things, or come apart the way any consort does when the emperor's favor leaves her. Evelyn simply accepted the decree, calmly. “I thank His Majesty for his generosity.” There was no movement in her voice and nothing in her face. Even her beautiful eyes held not the slightest trace of grief. She turned, went back into the inner rooms, and picked up her book where she had left it. As though the decree that had just stripped her of her place as his principal wife had nothing whatever to do with her.

For three years, I've been the only woman Hayden Prescott, the heir of the most powerful family in Jinton, has eyes for. Then his long-lost fiancée returns. Three years ago, the Lawson family falls deep into debt. My father and older brother spike my wine and personally deliver me straight to Hayden's hotel suite. By the next morning, photos of me stumbling out of his room with my clothes in disarray are circulating all over Jinton. Everyone brands me a shameless gold digger who will stop at nothing to marry into the powerful Prescott family. But Hayden doesn't cast me aside. When reporters mob me, he pulls me into his arms and shields me from the cameras. When a high fever leaves me bedridden, he puts a ten-billion-dollar deal on hold to stay by my side all night. And when thunderstorms frighten me, he even moves his international business meetings into our bedroom. After three years of being treated like the most precious person in his world, I finally let myself believe he truly loves me. Then Winona Monroe, his fiancée who's been missing for years, suddenly returns safe and sound. Only then do I discover that the Prescott family has already arranged another marriage for him. Hayden only keeps a woman with a ruined reputation like me around to ward off the wealthy socialites throwing themselves at him. Having me by his side also convinces everyone that he's moved on and has given up searching for Winona. Now that the woman he's been waiting for is finally back, I'm nothing more than a disposable stand-in. Hayden places a new passport in my hand, his voice as gentle as ever. "Winona's too kind. If she finds out that coming back means taking your place, she'd never agree to marry me. The only way she'll marry me without feeling guilty is if you're dead. "The yacht explosion is just for show. A boat will be waiting to pick you up in international waters. Once you take on a new identity, you'll have a house overseas and more than enough money to live comfortably for the rest of your life." I beg Hayden Prescott to give me one more day so I can go home and say goodbye to my parents. My older brother, Jack Lawson, comes to pick me up himself. He remembers that I got carsick, and he has even left a box of lemon candies in the car for me. When we get home, Mom and Dad pull me into their arms and burst into tears. They tell me how sorry they were and say that not a single day has gone by in the past three years when they haven't missed me. For a moment, I believe there are still people who want me in their lives. But a little while later, I discover that Dad is picking out a burial plot for me, and Mom has already chosen the portrait for my memorial service. Meanwhile, Jack sits at his desk, revising his eulogy over and over. They all try to reassure me. "It's just a staged death. Mr. Prescott has already taken care of everything. You'll have a new name, and you can still live a perfectly good life overseas." I look around at the funeral arrangements scattered throughout the room and suddenly realize they all have a point. Hayden wants to marry Winona Monroe, the fiancée he has finally gotten back after years apart. Jack wants to erase the stain on his reputation from selling me off three years ago. Dad wants to save Lawson Group. And Mom wants me, the daughter who has brought such shame upon the family, to disappear for good. All I have to do is die, and everyone else can walk away with their reputation intact. But not a single one of them has bothered to ask if that's what I want. Once the yacht reaches international waters, I take off my tracking device. In the distance, the boat Hayden arranged to pick me up waits with its lights on. The crew keeps waving at me, urging me to hurry up and jump into the water. Instead, I turn away and walk back into the cabin of the yacht that is about to explode. Alone. My family started it all by drugging me and delivering me straight into Hayden's bed. Now, Hayden has sent me aboard a yacht that is destined to sink. If no one wants me around while I'm alive, then this time, I'll give them exactly what they want. I'll repay them with my life.

My childhood sweetheart who promised to marry me the moment I graduated proposed to Camille Willow, my sister, during my graduation ceremony. At that moment, Dennis Malcolm, the most eligible and admired bachelor in Blington City's elite circle, stepped forward and confessed his love for me immediately after my childhood sweetheart's proposal was accepted. For five years after our marriage, Dennis showered me with devotion, treating me with such tenderness that it felt as though I were the center of his world. But everything shattered the day I overheard a conversation between him and his close friend. "Dennis, now that Camille's on top, are you really going to keep pretending with Tracy?" "It doesn't matter. I'll never have Camille. Besides, as long as I'm here, she'll never disrupt Camille's happiness," he answered. The paper notes he held dear, each one carefully preserved, revealed a harsh truth. Each one carried her name, accompanied by heartfelt wishes: "May Camille be released from her burdens. May she find peace within herself." "May Camille achieve all she dreams of, and may her heart love freely." "Camille, we were never meant to be together in this life. I can only hope that in another, we will walk side by side." … Five years of devotion shattered in a single moment of clarity. I crafted a false identity and planned an elaborate drowning to vanish without a trace. From this day forward, in this life and all others, we shall never cross paths again.

Before she passed away, my best friend begged me to meet her online boyfriend in person. “Zia, please love him for me. This is my final wish.” I promised her I would. After meeting Greyson in person, we dated for three years before finally getting married. Three years into our marriage, Greyson held my late best friend’s hand and looked at me coldly. “Let’s get a divorce. I won’t hold a grudge against you for stealing Scarlett’s place to meet me.” I stared at them, completely paralyzed by disbelief. “You lied to me... You’re alive…” With tear-brimming eyes, Scarlett said, “Zia, this happiness was supposed to belong to Greyson and me from the very beginning. Please, just let go.” Refusing to give up, I desperately tried to explain the truth to Greyson. But he only sneered at me. “You’re nothing but a thief and a liar.” Driven to the brink of madness, I tried everything to tear them apart. I made scenes at his corporate office, exposed them to the media, and tore up the divorce papers he shoved in my face time after time. But Greyson controlled the media narrative. Under his manipulation, the public branded me a lunatic, a hysteric, and a thief. My love for him was finally stripped away to nothing. When he handed me the divorce papers for the ninety-eighth time, I calmly took the pen and signed my name.

"Ms. Harris, you're already six months pregnant. The baby is fully formed... Are you sure you want to go through with the abortion? The hospital strongly advises against it." The doctor said hesitatingly. Phoebe Harris instinctively placed a hand over her swollen belly. Six months. The child had grown inside her, from something no bigger than a grain of rice to the size it was now. They say a mother and her child share an unspoken bond, and she could feel it too. If she weren't utterly broken inside, what mother would ever have the heart to give up her baby who was about to enter the world? After a silence that seemed to stretch on forever, Phoebe took a deep breath. Then, with a resolve that left no room for doubt, she said, "I'm sure."

After confessing 101 times to my childhood sweetheart, Morgan Lambert, he marries his first love, Cassandra White. With my heart in ruins, I leave him behind and marry his younger brother, James Lambert, who has pursued me relentlessly from the start. After marriage, James dotes on me to an extreme. His love is bold and intense. Everyone says I am unbelievably lucky to have married such a devoted man. As Cassandra and I sink into the water together, I can only watch as James dives in recklessly. He struggles through the water toward her, giving her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. I thrash and struggle in desperation, begging him to look at me even once. He never does. His entire focus is on getting her to shore, leaving me behind to be swallowed by the sea. While I am unconscious, I hear him and Morgan fighting violently in the hospital, arguing over who gets to stay by Cassandra's bedside. He roars in anguish, "I sacrificed myself by marrying Elsa so she wouldn't stand in the way of you and Cassie's happiness. Can you at least let me see Cassie once?" That is when I finally understand that none of them has ever loved me. I immediately arrange to fake my death, preparing to vanish from their lives completely. Yet after hearing the news of my so-called death, James—who's always calm—loses control. He pushes Cassandra aside, bends over, and coughs up blood. Overnight, he seems to age decades.

My husband, who's a negotiation expert, allows his intern to recklessly anger some criminals. It causes me, the hostage, to suffer severe injuries in the explosion, and my right leg breaks because of it. Yet, my husband once again issues a letter of forgiveness for her. "My wife, as a reporter, ignored warnings and forced contact with the criminals to get the scoop. The main responsibility lies with her. Kimberly, being a newcomer, should not bear major fault." I don't cry or make a scene. I simply pull out a divorce agreement. However, he sneers at me. "I know you're just jealous and want me to comfort you, but don't cross the line." For the past three years, I've brought up the topic of divorce 47 times, and each time, he treats it like I'm just throwing a tantrum. But it's different this time. His name has already been signed on this divorce agreement. As long as I add my signature to it, it will take effect immediately.

After my wife tortured me for the 98th time for Hudson Langdon, I gave up all hope and accepted her bestie, Mona Sachman, as my girlfriend. After a night of passion with Mona, she promised to help fake my death and we would get married overseas using a new identity. However, I woke up earlier than expected inside the coffin after taking the suspended animation drug Mona gave me. I was unable to move, but I could hear Mona talking to someone outside the coffin. "Miss Sachman, you've gained Sean Langdon's trust by instigating Sheila Edwards to torture him and pretending to save him after that. Why do you need to arrange for him to fake his death and bury him?" "That's the only way for the Langdons to believe that he had truly died, and for Hudson to secure his position as their heir. No one would ever mention that he is an illegitimate son after that." The other person asked after some slight hesitation, "Isn't it a little too long to wait seven days to dig him out of the coffin after you and Hudson Langdon get married?" "The drug is effective for five days. I've already gotten someone to put food, water, and an oxygen canister into the coffin for him. He won't die so easily."

During the eighth month of my pregnancy, I was pushed and fell. This caused me to have a miscarriage. In order to keep me alive, my womb would be removed. Just when I was experiencing excruciating pain, I accidentally overheard the conversation between my husband and the doctor. "Mr. Lawson, Ms. White is actually in stable condition now. Are you sure you want us to remove her womb?" "This is the only way that she will truly love my and Riley's child. Riley and I will never be together, but I'll give everything that I have to our only child. Mandy already has me, isn't that enough?" After hearing their conversation with my own ears, I finally realized that the person that I loved so much was just a liar.

My fiancé was the CEO of a powerful financial conglomerate, and to the outside world, he adored me beyond measure. A week before our wedding, I found out I was pregnant with triplets. I had planned to tell him the joyful news in person. But instead, I witnessed him in bed with other women. Not with just one. It felt like a knife had carved into my soul, cutting so deep I lost all hope, all trust. My tears begged for release, but I held my head high, forcing myself to stay strong. For him, I had given up everything—my pride, my family, my career. Yet he chose to share our love with others. All those vows to love me and only me for a lifetime had been lies. Our so-called future, our wedding—it was all a cruel joke. He was no longer the man I once loved. He had become tainted. I would not endure his betrayal. He no longer deserved to be the father of my children. So I made my decision—to disappear, to fake my death and start over, to give myself and my babies a chance at a free, unburdened life. But I never imagined he'd become obsessed and start searching the world for women who resembled me, all while declaring I was the only one he ever loved. Too little, too late. His affection now is worth nothing. This time, I'm not looking back.

In the fourth year after my husband, Jayden Stone, falls to his death, I finally save enough to pay off the 300,000 dollars in debt he owes. I drag my sick body there to repay the debt, but a security guard shoves me to the ground. "Today is the wedding of the century for Marilyn Jagger, the Jagger family's true heiress. Get lost, you filthy beggar!" I turn my head and see Jayden's face in the wedding photos. How is that possible? I watched him fall off a cliff and die! I go around to the hotel to find out the truth. Instead, I overhear Jayden's friends joking. "Jayden even faked his death just to marry Marilyn. Now that's true love!" "She's the real Jagger heiress, after all. A fake like Vivian Jagger doesn't even deserve someone like Jayden." Jayden clears his throat. "With Marilyn's health, she won't make it through this year. I'm marrying her to fulfill her final wish," he says. "When the five years are up, I'll go back to Viv." I clamp my hand over my mouth as blood seeps through my fingers. But Jayden, I won't make it to the fifth year.

The second time Yuri Stone's mistress got pregnant and showed up on my doorstep, I tied her up, dragged her to the hospital for an abortion, and slashed her face. Then I turned on the gas and waited for Yuri to come home, smiling as I told him we were going to die together. I didn't snap out of it until our son, Xander Stone, threw himself into my arms, sobbing so hard he could barely breathe. "Mommy, please don't do this. I'm scared." The lighter slipped from my hand. But the next morning, Xander's little body was cold and stiff. He'd left a final message on his smartwatch. [Mommy, I'm trading my life so you and Daddy won't fight anymore.] At the funeral, my brother, Ethan Xavier, slapped me three times in front of everyone. His eyes were bloodshot as he called me a murderer. My mother, Diane Xavier, fainted from grief. When she came to, she disowned me. "You drove Xander to his death. I don't have a daughter as vicious as you." I held Xander's icy little hand and cried until no sound would come out. That was when Yuri finally seemed to wake up to what he'd done. He dropped to his knees in front of me and swore, "Quinn, let's both of us stop fighting. Can we please start over?" For Xander's sake, to honor his dying wish, Yuri sent Jasmine Shaw away himself. After that, he reported where he was going every day without fail. He handed over his phone whenever I wanted to check it. He even installed a tracker so I'd always know exactly where he was, all to make me feel secure again. Then one day, I went to the hospital to pick up my pregnancy test results. And there was Yuri, carefully supporting a woman as she walked. Beside them, a little boy tipped his face up at her, whining playfully. It was Xander. The son I'd watched die right in front of me. "Mommy Sophie, did I do a good job pretending? "Now nobody can stop us from being together anymore!"

Everyone in our circle called my wife, Tracy Weaver, an ice-cold nun. She was also a severe germaphobe. Ours was a business marriage. In three years, she never once let me touch her. She was a devout ascetic who claimed her senses were pure and that she had severed all ties to the earthly world. I didn't mind. I had married her for the power of the Weaver family. Then, one day, I discovered a secret photo album on her phone. There was only one person in it: a boy spray-painting graffiti on a wall, his fingers smeared with paint, grinning from ear to ear. Beneath the photo was a caption she had posted from a secret account: [My earthly world. My karmic debt.] At a family gathering, I smiled and asked her when she'd started going for that type. Her expression froze for a split second before it smoothed back to normal. She handed me a document. "Sign the divorce agreement. The Conlin City project and ten percent of the Weaver Group's shares will be transferred to you."

I came home a day early from my business trip and hid in the closet to surprise Eric Carter. At seven, he told the housekeeper to cook several dishes. At nine, he told me hoarsely that he had taken a bath and changed the bedsheets in my room. He was sure that I would love it. I did not believe him because I had heard him moaning in bed with Willow Summers for three hours from the closet. Willow Summers was his childhood sweetheart and my sister. I clicked on a webpage from my cell without hesitation. "Miss Summers, your appointment for creating a fake death has been confirmed. Time of Death: One week later Location of Death: The wedding hall on the top floor of the Century Building Cause of Death: Suicide from jumping off a building!"

After a car accident leaves my older brother, Cedric Horton, fighting for his life, he asks to see me. The sight of his bloodless face sends me into tears, and I swear that I'll take good care of his newborn baby, only for Cedric to shake his head. "You won't have to. Benjamin, the baby is Helena's." For a moment, the world falls silent. My wife, Helena Grant, steps forward and clasps Cedric's hand. Her eyes are red as she drops to her knees before me. "We kept it from you because we never wanted to hurt you. Now that Cedric is dying, all he asks is that you give us your blessing." Still numb, I pick up a pen and sign the divorce papers. Three days later, I bury Cedric myself beneath a headstone that identifies him as the beloved husband of Helena Grant. Mom and Dad are so furious that they disown him. They refuse to recognize his child as family, choosing instead to devote all their time to staying by my side. Yet, five years pass, and my depression worsens. On the day I plan to end my life, I take a bottle of Cedric's favorite liquor to his grave. Instead, I find him standing there, very much alive, holding Helena's hand with his left while carrying a little boy in his right arm. Mom and Dad stand beside them, their eyes filled with concern. "We never would've asked you to fake your death for five years if we weren't afraid Benjamin might hurt all three of you. "He's doing so badly now that he constantly gets his memories mixed up. When we get back, we'll convince him you and Helena were married all along. Then, the three of you can finally stop hiding and live as a family." The bottle hits the ground and shatters, the liquor disappearing into the earth. I pull out my phone and change Helena's contact name to "Mrs. Cedric Horton". They don't need to lie to me anymore, because I'll give them exactly what they want.

The day my husband, Cameron Gray, died unexpectedly, I swallowed an entire bottle of sleeping pills. His best friend and my sworn enemy, Alfie Crawford, kicked the door open with bloodshot eyes and dragged me back from the brink of death. "You have to live, even if it's for Cameron's sake!" For the next three years, Alfie reins in his temper completely. Even when I step outside just to take out the trash, he insists on coming with me. I thought I'd finally moved past the pain. Somewhere along the way, I even fell for him. In the second year of our relationship, I hold a positive pregnancy test, ready to surprise Alfie, only to find something buried at the very back of his drawer. It's a printed marriage certificate, registered in Koaland five years ago. The groom is Cameron, the man whose death I've thought was an accident. The bride is my best friend, Tessa Stone, who swears she would never get married. The date is the very day I tried to end my life. Beside the marriage certificate lies a phone. On it is a message from Tessa, sent just yesterday. "Thank you for keeping her under control for the past five years and making sure she never found out. Cameron and I are very happy together now." I clutch the pregnancy test. At that moment, it feels like I've fallen into a frozen abyss. As it turns out, the man I thought had saved me has actually been colluding with them and deceiving me all these years.

By the third year of Waylon Ratliff's affair, I had completely lost my mind. I leaked private photos of his assistant, Jenna Gilmore, all over the internet. Then, I poured gasoline over myself and threatened to drag everyone down with me. Jenna was so terrified that she fled the city that very night. I thought I'd won. Well, I couldn't have been more wrong. To cover my legal fees and compensation claims, my brother sold his house. When that still wasn't enough, he turned to loan sharks. Eventually, the debt became too much for him to bear, and he jumped from the roof of a high-rise. The last thing he left behind was a voice recording. His voice was hoarse and exhausted. "Sydney, please stop. There's nothing left. Mom and Dad have already lost everything. They've aged overnight. I can't do this anymore..." My mom clutched his belongings to her chest and cried until she passed out. Meanwhile, my dad seized my throat with his trembling, slim hands, yelling until his voice broke. "How many more people do you need to ruin before you're satisfied?" Tears slipped silently down my cheeks, and that was when I finally came to my senses. After that, I stopped obsessively investigating every woman who got close to Waylon. I stopped demanding an explanation every time I found a lipstick stain on his collar. One night, I even caught him staring at an old photo of Jenna. The longing in his eyes was obvious, but instead of making a scene, I told him to bring her back. Then, Jenna's birthday came around. As she blew out the candles, she made a wish. She wanted to be Mrs. Ratliff for real, even if it was only once. So I printed out the divorce papers, signed every page, and placed them in front of her. Waylon snatched them away before she could touch them and ripped them in half. Then, he seized my chin and forced me to look at him, his gaze piercing. "What happened to you, Sydney? You used to swear you'd rather die than divorce me. So where did all that stubbornness go?"

"I don't want to go with you on this business trip," Lucy Landon said at the dinner table. Her voice was calm, so calm that no one could sense anything unusual. Steven Cooper's trip was set for June 1st. It wasn't their wedding anniversary, nor was it anyone's birthday. Just an ordinary Children's Day. Three days ago, she had stumbled upon a voice message on Steven's phone. A child's soft and childish voice had said, "Daddy, for Children's Day, I want to go to Maldove to see the fishes!"

Everyone is envious of me for having someone like Dominic Cruz, who's love-brained, as a husband-to-be. He's rich, handsome, and highly educated. I smile without saying anything, but I nod happily. However, on the day I'm misdiagnosed, he goes missing. He's so engrossed in his secret lover that he forgets all about me. So, I jilt him before he can do it to me. I turn him into the city's laughingstock. Later, I hear that he drinks the bar dry every night. He scours Marina City but fails to find his missing bride.