Substitute Romance Short Stories & Novels

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.

Natalie used to hate stuffed animals. Now she's head-over-heels for a cotton doll. She called it "honey" and told our daughter, Yara, it was her real dad. Cool. Guess that made me the family ghost. At Yara's parent-teacher conference, I finally snapped and handed Natalie the divorce papers. Cue the gasps. Suddenly, I'm the villain. She slapped me—full drama mode. "It's just a doll! Why are you being so extra?" Yara hugged it like it was about to save the world, giving me the death stare. I shrugged, smirking. "You're the one who said it's your dream husband and Yara's one and only dad. So, like... why am I still here?"

I was twelve when Henry Shaw took me home from the orphanage, gave me a new name, put me through school, and gave me a good life. Ten years later, his first love returned from abroad. Her name sounded like mine, and her face looked like a mirror image. I quickly realized I had been a stand-in all along. Crushing the diagnosis in my pocket, I decided that I was going to live the rest of my life for myself, even if I did not have much time left.

My boyfriend, Harvey Seinfeld, got diagnosed with cancer and needed a liver transplant. When I found out I was a match, I didn't think twice. Two-thirds of my liver—gone. The pain was brutal. As soon as I came to, I dragged myself to his room. Right before I walked in, I heard him laughing with his friends. "Harvey, you're a genius for coming up with such an epic revenge plan." He snorted. "If I didn't have to keep it low-key, I would've taken a kidney just for fun. "It's her fault Vivi bombed her art exam and had to study abroad. Vivi's coming back next month. That's when I'll be done with her for good."

"Only your face looks like hers. In every other way, you're nothing compared to her." That's the line Elliot Wagner says most often to Neely Vaughn. If one came from a wealthy family, who wouldn't want to master the fine arts, then go abroad to study and come back with an impressive degree? But alas, Neely doesn't come from that kind of family, and she can only afford to attend vocational school and learn makeup. Still, credit where credit is due. Her makeup transformations are incredible. Over the past three years, she has appeared more and more like Angela Boatwright, throwing even Elliot off and having him profess, "I really love you," while in a drunken haze. Not long after, Neely finds out she's pregnant. He says, "Have the baby. We'll take the next step in our relationship." Just as Neely believes she's finally about to have her happily-ever-after, tragedy strikes. On yet another solo trip to a prenatal appointment, she gets into a horrific car accident. Her abdomen twists with excruciating pain and a crushing pressure. The autonomous-driving system quickly calls her pinned contact, Elliot, only for him to reject the call again and again. Clinging to the last of her strength, she leaves him a trembling voice message. "I got into a car accident. I might… I might lose the baby." His reply shatters every last bit of hope she has left. "Angela is back. I'm helping her clean up her place. Whatever it is, we can talk later." Tears hit her swollen belly. In the shattered side mirror, she can see everything clearly. A jagged wound tears across her left cheek from the corner of her mouth to her ear, exposing raw, bloody flesh. She closes her eyes. "Siri, delete all of Elliot Wagner's contact info." "Deleted," comes the reply. She's done covering her face in heavy makeup just to be someone's substitute. This time, she decides to take the next step on her own.

I am Charles Grant’s crush, and everyone said that he was really loyal to me. But on our third wedding anniversary, I found out that he had gotten a replacement for me. They even had a three-year-old child. I caressed my belly and tore apart the pregnancy report that I had brought to give him as a surprise.

My obsession with Sebastian Royce was a legend among our social circle. Had he asked for a raw pearl from the seabed, I would have leapt off into the ocean to retrieve it. When he bid at an auction, I would throw millions away without a second thought—all just to catch a flicker of a smile on his face. Even when Sebastian flaunted his other women in front of me, I’d still crawl back to him like a starry-eyed fool. Everyone around us burned with frustration on my behalf. “Cynthia Stone, you’re an heiress to a fortune! Why on earth are you humiliating yourself over that jerk?” I would simply shake my head, a soft smile on my lips. “You guys don’t get it.” That was till the night Sebastian suffered an accident and a tiny, razor-thin scar sliced across his breathtakingly handsome face. My eyes flushed blood-red as I lunged forward, wrapping my hands tightly around his throat. “Sebastian Royce, go to hell.”

At the Davenport family dinner, I arrive wearing the same dress Tucker Davenport's true love once wore. His face darkens immediately. He glares at me coldly and orders that my dress be burned on the spot. "Damn it, Willow, can't you show a little self-awareness? Shelby might be too naive to notice, but there's no way I'm letting you appear like this in front of her." The intense heat rushes toward me as the flames consume the fabric. A sharp, burning pain shoots between my legs, crashing over me like a tidal wave. The pain drags me under, but I suddenly jolt awake, barely able to gasp a plea for mercy. Tucker doesn't spare me a glance. He simply turns away to help Shelby cut the cake. Days later, he finally remembers I exist. "As long as you behave and don't bother Shelby again, you'll still be Mrs. Davenport." I stare at the burns on my legs as my tears dry up. I refuse to beg any longer. I'm done being Mrs. Davenport.

My best friend and I had been abducted by the Pendragon brothers—a duo consisting of a religious CEO and a top-billed movie star. We became their secret lovers against our will. "I'm pregnant, Lilith," my best friend said, tears glistening in her eyes. "Me too, Lindsay," I replied softly, caressing my belly. "But I won't go through with it." The brothers heard us. Their control tightened. They watched us during mealtimes, while we slept, and even during our bathroom breaks. We could not endure it any longer, so we fought back. In their anger, the brothers kept mistresses who resembled us. We thought we were free until one day, they found us. They called us homewreckers and hurled insults at us. They broke into our house, scarred our faces, broke our legs, and kicked us until we miscarried. It did not matter how much we tried to explain ourselves. They removed our clothes and paraded us in the street. Finally, the Pendragons arrived. They raised their marriage certificates and declared, "Lilith and Lindsay are our wives!"

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!"

I discover Quilton Fuller's affair before our wedding, so I lie to him about having aborted our child. He hates me for that and gets engaged to a woman who looks just like me. On his wedding day, he video-calls me, wanting to show me his bride. However, he's greeted by the sight of me bloody and battered after being tormented by abductors. I beg him to at least save the baby in my womb, but he says to the abductors, "You'd better kill her and her child."

To save the man she truly loved, the princess locked me in our room and cut out my heart's blood. The last time she drew blood from me, I finally reached the end of my strength and died. But without a shred of pity, she drove the knife into my chest again. "Alec, just bear it a little longer. Stephen's illness came on so suddenly. I need you to give one more bit of your heart's blood." She thought I would struggle in pain. Instead, I lay motionless on the bed and let her take what she wanted. She finally froze, then softened her voice and said, "I'm glad you've come to your senses. I'll make it up to you some other day." But she didn't know there would be no other day. Because I was already dead. What lay before her now was nothing more than a ghost without pain or feeling. In seven more days, I would disappear completely.

I've accidentally worn a dress belonging to my deceased older sister, Gwendolyn Stokes, to a family banquet. Because of that, my husband, Thomas Torres, goes quiet with fury. He then sentences me to a punishment of kneeling in the snow for three long hours. The blizzard chills me to the bone. My son, Robin Torres, makes fun of me while hurling snowballs at me. "No matter how much you dress up, you'll always be a phony! Don't think you can go around replacing my mommy just because you've changed into her dress!" As I stare at Robin's face, which bears some resemblance with mine, I feel my heart breaking. He has no idea that I'm his actual mother. On the year Gwendolyn passed away, Thomas, who drank himself into a stupor, mistook me for her. That night, he kept moaning Gwendolyn's name and whispering sweet nothings to me. That was how I got pregnant with Robin. Thomas has forbidden me from telling anyone the truth. On the other hand, I can't bear to leave my own child alone. So, I beg Thomas repeatedly to let me stay in the Torres residence. During my stay here, Thomas gives me the cold shoulder all the time. Only when he needs to vent his desire does he seek me out. What I didn't expect is that Robin hates my guts as well. Not only does he keep pulling pranks on me from time to time, but he also curses at me. "Shameless women like you have no right to stay in my home! Once I grow up, I'll definitely kick you out!" Now, I can finally respond to him. "Oh, I don't have to wait for you to grow up at all." Tomorrow, I'll pack my things and leave. I no longer want to remain as someone else's replacement and continue living a life of humiliation. This time, I'm going to pursue a life of my own.

The proposal Aurora had dreamed of? A total sham. Just a stunt by her boyfriend, Marco, to make his first love, Sofia, jealous. The second she said, "I do," Sofia stormed in, tears and all, wailing that she'd changed her mind—that she couldn't let him marry someone else. And just like that, they were in each other's arms, celebrating their grand reunion. Meanwhile, Aurora stood there, the punchline to a cruel joke.

Isaac Chance and Madeline Snow were once the model couple of Shorestone City and the target of everyone's envy. After getting engaged, everyone thought they would soon walk down the aisle together. However, there is no news of a wedding for six years. In the end, all Madeline gets is the news of Isaac returning to the country with another woman by his side. He doesn't hesitate to hurt her countless times for the woman's sake. When her grandmother is on the brink of death after an illness, Madeline has no choice but to get into a shotgun marriage. After leaving city hall with her marriage certificate, she ponders the situation. It turns out getting married is simple… as long as her husband isn't Isaac.

My husband forces me to donate my remaining kidney to his true love. He wants to save her from death by uremia. I try to tell him that I have kidney failure—I'll die if I donate my kidney. However, he roars, "Stop playing your jealous games when Shawna is so gravely ill! Don't you have a heart?" Under his forcefulness, I'm taken to the hospital to get my kidney removed. Ultimately, I die in a corner of the hospital.

I was married to Chad Caldwell for ten years. I met all his girlfriends during our marriage. Whenever he got bored and wanted to move on, I was his best excuse. "If you marry me, you'll end up like her. Too familiar and no spark left." On our anniversary, I wiped tears for his latest ex, a college girl, while he was at the movies with his new fling. She used up a pack of tissues, and I seemed to see my old self in her. Afterward, I asked Chad for a divorce. He was confused. "Why not wait a bit? Maybe I'll turn over a new leaf." I gave a faint smile but said nothing. Instead, I booked a plane ticket and flew across the ocean. If he wouldn't turn around, I'd take the first step.

Everyone in the social circle of Kingsford said I was nothing more than a lapdog raised by Charles Mankin. I was always at his beck and call. I did every filthy, ludicrous thing for him under the sun. When he street raced, I rode shotgun. When he drank himself senseless, I made him hangover soup. When he chased girls, I prepared protection for them. Over time, everyone knew: Charles had a dog who never ran, never bit back, no matter how hard he kicked. They all said I must be madly in love with him. Even Charles started to believe it. So he pushed further, more freely, more cruelly, crossing lines as if they never existed. Then came my twenty-fifth birthday. He, in a rare stroke of mercy, said he'd celebrate it with me. But instead, what he got was the news that I was leaving the country. He went berserk, charging through the airport like a man possessed. I peeled his fingers off my wrist one by one, smiling like I'd never been happier. "Don't be stupid," I told him, still smiling. "That was never love." That night, Charles smashed apart his family home like a rabid dog.

Everyone believed Ethan Cross loved Isabella Winters to his core, but nobody knew he'd already found an Isabella look-alike to keep him company through the lonely nights. Even when Isabella recovered, he continued his affair. Little did he know that Isabella's recovery was temporary—within two months, she would lose every memory she'd ever made. After that, she would forget Ethan completely, and her love for him would be erased forever.

"I always thought I had found the perf 'Once she gives birth, I’ll divorce her.' 'When I have sex with her, I cover her head with a pillow because the other side of the pillow has your picture It turns out, I was just surrogate tool, and all his affection was fake. So, I When I started a new life, Gu Songqian came knocking on my door: 'Actually, I love both of you equally. From now on, you’ll live on the west side, and she’ll live on the east side, and you won’t disturb each other.'"