Scheming Romance Short Stories & Face Slapping Novels

My husband's childhood sweetheart kills my parents in an accident due to drunk driving. I want to call the police, but my husband blindfolds me and takes me to the cellar. I'm tormented and subjected to inhumane treatment for the next three years. After each torture session, an icy male voice will ring out in my ear. "Do you still hate her, Sabrina?" One day, I finally cave and submit to the icy voice. "No, I don't. I don't hate her anymore!" I hear my husband's joyous laughter on the other end of the line. On the day he welcomes me out of the cellar, I avoid his embrace. Yet he loses his mind when I ask him for a divorce.

My father was the CEO of a major corporation, and I was his illegitimate daughter—the one no one was supposed to know about. Growing up, I was the child nobody cared for. My father didn’t love me, and my mother wasn’t much better. From a young age, it was just me and my little brother looking out for each other. When I got into college, my father’s family decided to take my brother in. However, only a few days later, I received the news that my brother was dead.  I knew, deep down, that his death wasn’t just some accident. From that moment on, I worked even harder, determined to succeed. When I finally returned, I had a special gift prepared for my father’s family. This one’s for my brother!

My husband, Julian Sutton, is busy with work on the day of my prenatal checkup. His childhood sweetheart, Vera Levine, with whom he's been amorous for years, offers to drive me. On the way there, she suddenly swerves and rams into the back of a truck. The car is flattened. Julian is a doctor in the emergency room, but I don't call him. Instead, I dial 911 and wait for assistance. Why? I called him in my past life, and he took me to the hospital. Our child was saved, but Vera died due to significant blood loss. Julian claimed not to blame me and even arranged for me to stay in a private hospital ward. But on the day I was discharged, he dragged me to Vera's grave and stabbed me. I lost the child and was on the verge of death as I stared into his bloodshot eyes. They were filled with unbridled hatred as he snarled, "Vera wouldn't have died if you hadn't grabbed the wheel! Don't think I'll believe you just because you're acting innocent! An eye for an eye—I want you to die for her, but only after experiencing the pain she felt in a hundredfold!" He twisted the blade and stabbed me repeatedly. My blood splattered on Vera's gravestone, dying it red. When I open my eyes again, I find that I've been taken back to the scene of the accident.

On my way to the bank, I stumbled across a post: [What's the most shameful thing you've done behind your partner's back?] One comment stood out: [I secretly married my first love, and my girlfriend keeps dumping money into our joint account like an idiot. She actually thinks I'm saving for a house. There's already sixty-seven grand in there. Once she hits eighty, I'm taking it all!] The flood of likes made my stomach twist. I pulled up my account balance. Sixty-seven grand. Not a penny more, not a penny less. So, my boyfriend secretly married his ex.

I die on my wedding night. When Zachary Gordon receives a call from the police asking him to identify my body, he snorts disdainfully. "Who cares whether she's dead? I'll be there for the funeral." "We're not joking, Mr. Gordon. You should come down here." He glances at the woman in his arms as a hint of impatience flickers in his eyes. "Fine."

Three days after my daughter was born, my husband was killed by a car while running to the store for some groceries. I was so devastated I passed out. When I came to, his funeral was already over, and a stranger was standing in my living room. "I'm your husband's twin brother. I'll be around to help take care of you and the baby." Later, I locked myself in the bathroom with his urn, sobbing uncontrollably, when I overheard his buddies talking through the open window. "Dude, you’re so cool blooded. Inventing a twin brother just to dodge diaper duty? What's next—triplets and quadruplets coming out of the woodwork too?"

On New Year's Eve, Facebook blew up. The reason was that Bennett Miles, the golden boy of Crestmoor’s elite, posted an update. In the photo, a shy young woman hid her face as she leaned against his shoulder while he grinned. His eyes were full of affection and mischief. His caption read, "What do I do? Looks like I'm officially taken." Friends in his circle flooded the comment section with congratulations. The real frenzy began when Bennett announced that the first 10,000 followers to like, share, and comment on the post would each receive a gold bar. The internet went wild with envy and curiosity. Everyone scrambled to find out more about the woman in the picture. Then, someone claiming to have inside information started a livestream. "Stop guessing. Her name is Kara Sierra. You know Sierra Hall at Crestmoor College? That building was named after her! "Two years ago, she had kidney failure. Bennett personally donated one of his own kidneys to save her!"

Three years ago, Samantha Jade and her parents were trapped in a raging fire. She watched with her own eyes as the flames devoured her mother and father. At the critical moment, it was Connor Parker who charged in and saved her. She fell hopelessly in love with him. For the following three years, she drowned in the tenderness he wove so carefully around her. But later, Samantha discovered the truth: that fire three years ago—Connor had set it. He had approached her on purpose, loved her on purpose, all to avenge his first love. Every bit of love, every gentle word, every beautiful moment between them—none of it was real. It had all been a lie. Since he hated her that much, Samantha decided to play along. Amid Connor's revenge, she faked her death. But when he saw the charred body—believing it was hers—Connor lost his mind.

After my parents died in a car crash, my cousin stole the compensation money and moved overseas to start a business. My aunt begged me on her knees not to call the police. Then, she locked me in a dark basement for three months. I was close to breaking down and ending my life when Julien Lawson, the neighbor’s son, broke down the basement door and saved me. “Joyce, what they did is unforgivable! They stole the compensation money for your parents’ deaths. You were going to use it to open your own studio! “Marry me. I’ll protect you.” He was the only person who cared about me after my parents died. I was so grateful that I married him and had his child. I worked three jobs during the day to help support the orphanage that Julien ran. At night, I took care of our child and created design sketches. But no matter how hard I tried, none of my work was ever accepted. Even though Julien told me to keep at it, I felt discouraged and thought of giving up on my design career to focus on our family. One day, our child was sick. I went to take over the shift from Julien when I overheard him talking to my aunt on the stairs. “Julien, it’s been ten years. Joyce’s designs are getting better and better. She even passed the first round of the national competition. Are you really not going to tell her about the next round?” my aunt asked. Her voice trembled. Julien said coldly, “For years, I’ve been sending Joyce’s design sketches to Mindy to copy and enter in the competitions or publish as her own. “To help Mindy’s career, I can’t let Joyce move on to the next round. “Joyce has talent. If people notice her, she’ll be a threat to Mindy’s career!”

My wife, Valerie Larson, had a congenital heart condition. Despite that, she still wanted to have a child with her first love, Eugene Dyer. I refused without a second thought. Ten months later, Eugene's mother, Susan Turner, passed away. Her eyes were still wide open as if refusing to accept death without ever holding her grandchild. Overcome with guilt for failing his mother, Eugene took his own life in his small, rundown apartment. Valerie, consumed by grief and anger, took us on a road trip, only to crash the car head-on into a truck without hesitation. She shouted, "It's your fault Eugene died! If you had let me give him a child, he never would have ended up like that! His whole family is gone, so yours doesn't deserve to live either!" When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day Valerie first asked to have Eugene's child. This time, I forced a small smile and said, "Darling, go ahead. Our whole family will support you."

After my 99th confession, my childhood best friend, Michael Leight, finally says yes. I am overjoyed, believing that my years of unrequited love have finally paid off. But when I walk past the pantry, I overhear him speaking tenderly to our family chef, Tahlia Duvey. "Once I take everything from the Kingstons, I'll kick that idiot Ariel to the curb and throw us a grand wedding. Everything here will be yours." My heart feels like a sword has been plunged into it. That night, I storm into Grandpa's study and point at a photo of the Gordon family's heir—Charles, known for always keeping his distance from women. "Grandpa! I want to marry him!" I announce.

My best friend's brother and I have been dating for half a year, and she has no clue. My best friend drags me out on Christmas for a singles' night out. Unexpectedly, we see her brother, Chris Lambert, holding hands and kissing a girl under the fireworks. "Damn, Chris finally got the school belle!" She looks thrilled and pulls me forward to say hi. Chris awkwardly rubs his nose and introduces me to his girlfriend, "This is my sister, and the one beside her is… sort of like my sister too." I smile silently. We have held hands and kissed, yet now, I am just sort of like his sister.

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.

Right before my sugar daddy’s untouchable first love was about to return, he told me to get along with her. “She knows about us?” I ask. David nodded. “I told her. Anyway, we’ll be living together.” I take a sharp breath. After all, was this first love really that open-minded? As a diligent and professional sugar baby, I’d do my absolute best to win her over. [Baby, I’m David’s sugar baby. The three of us living well together is what matters most.] [Baby, don’t worry. I have a very high tolerance for morally questionable situations!] We chatted enthusiastically for an entire month until she returned. Wait. Wasn’t the man standing in front of me, over six feet tall, David’s sworn enemy?

My best friend tagged me under some thirst-trap guy's post. [Holy crap, he looks exactly like your ex!] I thought she was joking around, but the more I looked at the half-naked muscle guy, the more familiar he seemed. [What a coincidence. He IS my ex.] After Oliver Holden and I broke up, I blocked him on everything. It turned out he had started posting thirst traps online instead. He dumped a lot of money into boosting his videos. Eventually, my best friend stumbled across him. The bad news was that he also stumbled across my response video.

Five minutes before the ceremony, I called off the wedding. In my last life, right in the middle of our vows, Sandra Crowe suddenly demanded another 300 thousand dollars as a "marriage guarantee." She pulled out her phone in front of everyone, chin tipped up, a payment screen glowing. "Three hundred thousand! Not a dollar less, or I'm not putting on that ring." Ten years together, and we were right at the finish line. I forced myself to go through with it and transferred the money. It was what Dad had scraped together over two years for his kidney transplant. That same night, his condition crashed. I went to Sandra and asked if she could lend me the money back for his treatment. She yelled at me instead. "You're asking me for money on our wedding night? Seriously? That 300 grand is mine! Don't even think about touching it!" Dad missed his window and died in the hospital hallway. The day he died, Sandra was out shopping with her friends, dropping thousands on a Chanel bag without a second thought. "Good. One less burden. At least he won't drag us down anymore." When I filed for divorce, she brought her guy friend to the funeral and made a scene, knocking over Dad's urn and damaging the headstone. Then she turned around and accused me of sexual assault, demanding 500 thousand in damages. Mom couldn't take it. She drank pesticide and died. On my way to pursue the case, I was hit by a car. When I opened my eyes again, I called off the wedding. Then Sandra stepped closer, already pulling up her payment screen. "Transfer me three hundred thousand as a marriage guarantee, or we're not getting married." I tossed the ring into the trash. "Works for me."

After I get abducted to Paradise Island, I've attempted escape twice so far in order to avoid becoming the rich's plaything. The first time I get caught, on that very same night, I receive a video of my fiancee, Lucille Hoffman, getting torn into pieces by a school of piranhas. The second time I get caught, my older sister, Edith Cox, whom I've relied on since I was young, gets mutilated by the kidnappers on a cruise ship. Driven by despair, I agree to bind myself to a system. "As long as you earn enough points, you can revive your lover and your sister." From that day onward, I shed my pride and ego. I allow the electrified collar to dig deep into my neck. I keep getting tormented time and again until I lose consciousness. After undergoing yet another organ transplant that's forced onto me, I stare at the points, which are enough for me to revive Lucille and Edith. That's when a trace of hope emerges from my heart. Just as I'm about to hit the "confirm" button with a trembling finger, I hear a burst of laughter coming from a corner. "That idiot actually thinks he's bound to a system! He's still working hard to gather points just to revive his sister and his fiancee! Little does he know that Paradise Island, their deaths, as well as the system, are all big fat lies!" "I know, right? The rich really have a way of grooming people, huh? Apparently, Ms. Cox and Ms. Hoffman faked their deaths and created a fake system for this guy just because he had slapped Mr. Trenton back then and refused to apologize to him or admit his mistake. That's why they put on this act in order to teach him a lesson and make him yield to them." "Shh! Drop this topic for now! Ms. Cox and Ms. Hoffman are here to check on the training progress…" I feel as though I've plunged into an icy abyss. My ears begin ringing from shock and disbelief. That's when the poison I've taken in advance starts kicking in. Before I know it, blood begins streaming down the corner of my mouth uncontrollably. Just as my vision is going dark, someone kicks the door open.