Feel-Good Story Short Stories & Scumbag Regret Novels

When Damian was eighteen, he could barely afford a decent dinner. Still, he spent half his first commission on the cheapest silver ring in the store for me. He slid it onto my finger, his expression stern. "Wear this for now. When I have a real name, I'll get you a better one." I laughed at how cheap it was, then hid my hand behind my back and refused to give it back. Later, he did get a name. He was the Moretti family's long-lost heir, the man destined to lead its vast empire. But I never got that better ring. Five years ago, on the night a gang war broke out, I dragged a badly wounded Damian out of the fire. I never made it out myself. When he woke, huge pieces of his memory of me were gone. Cecilia Russo sat beside his hospital bed and told him I had despised him for being poor, betrayed him, and even sold the location of our old safe house to the enemy. She also told him she was the one who had saved him. Five years later, my ghost appeared in the final family trial he had to face. By then, another wedding ring sat on his hand. Cecilia was his wife. When his memories returned, he lost his mind.

On Christmas night, my husband, Finnick Carson, can't spend the holidays with me because he's on a business trip. In order to make it up to me, he's specifically ordered a Christmas feast from a fancy restaurant and has it delivered to our home. But when I open the box containing the feast, I'm shell-shocked by what I see. Not only an array of seafood—that I'm allergic to—is arranged in containers, but there's also a kid's meal set included in the feast. When the deliveryman sees the food, he apologizes to me and tells me that he's mixed up the two meals that Finnick has ordered. This leaves me feeling uneasy. Why would my husband order two meals? So, I decide to find my way to the delivery address that the other meal is meant for. Shockingly enough, I see Finnick standing in a villa's backyard while picking candies from a Christmas tree with a mother and a son. The little boy then rushes into his arms happily. "Daddy, I'd like an amusement park for my birthday gift this year!" Finnick pinches his cheek gently. "Okay. I'll give your mommy a set of jewelry, too." The woman cuddles with him happily. "You're so nice to us, honey!" Having recorded the entire scene quietly, I send it to my lawyer. "Help me expedite my divorce so that my husband can reunite with his family as soon as possible."

Before the wedding began, Rosien Valmont, the vampire prince, chained me to the blood altar. A dagger carved with a blood curse was pressed against my heart. "Give Bertha your blood one more time and I'll honor the blood pact. Otherwise the wedding is off." Rosien and I had loved each other for 200 years. He swore in front of the whole clan that he would make me his princess. Then, three years ago, everything changed when he brought Bertha Bell, a dying human, home. Whenever her illness flared, Rosien cut open my chest to draw my blood. On every full moon, pain ripped through my body as though my flesh were being torn apart. Bertha Bell lay pale in his arms. "Rosien, let it go! Katherine has waited a long time for this wedding. If she doesn't want to, I don't mind dying." When he looked at me again, there was nothing in his eyes but impatience. "Bertha saved my life. You're only giving up a few drops of blood." He pushed the dagger in another inch. "You begged for this wedding in the first place. I can call it off whenever I want. But if you're willing to give Bertha your blood, I'll still make you my princess." I looked down at the ring on my finger and laughed softly. "One last time." Rosien had no idea that this was the 99th time he had taken my blood. In three days, when the blood moon rose, the Founder bloodline sealed within me would fully awaken. I would take control of the clan.

My sister, Lily, was torn to pieces by Rogues. I sobbed, begging my Fated Mate, Alpha Ethan, to find her killers. He never did. A year later, on the anniversary of her death. I went to find Ethan, ready to tell him I was pregnant. Instead, I found him holding another omega, Bella, in his arms. “Don’t worry,” he soothed her. “No one will find out you dropped the pack's mental shield and got Lily killed. Once Harper gives up her title as Luna at the ceremony, you will be my one and only.” My heart shattered. So that was it. He never marked me, never rejected me… he wanted me to step down on my own. He was protecting my sister’s murderer. He wanted to make her Luna. I stormed in, screaming, but Bella suddenly coughed up blood and collapsed. Wolfsbane poisoning, she claimed. "She was poisoned saving me! Give me your heart's blood! It's the only thing that can save her!" Ethan looked at me with more disgust than if I were trash. “I’m pregnant! It’ll kill the baby!” I pleaded. But his Alpha Command crashed down. My body was no longer my own. I could only watch as the thick needle pierced my chest, right over my heart. Golden blood flowed out. A sharp, tearing pain ripped through my stomach… He had killed my baby. My wolf shattered inside me. I closed my eyes, reaching for a forbidden connection in the werewolf world. "Lycan King Rogan. Tomorrow, I need you to help me destroy everything in the Blackwood Pack. Including Alpha Ethan."

I was once the Pythia, an oracle of Apollo. After marrying the late king, I became known as the Oracle Priestess. When my husband died in battle, I faked my death and returned to the temple. From then on, I devoted myself to protecting the capital with the gods' blessing. Then one day, they brought my daughter's body into the temple. She was covered in raw, unhealed wounds, and her eyes were still open. The attendants tossed her body, wrapped in nothing but a straw mat, onto the floor. Then they stood nearby whispering. "Poor princess. The king cared more about the Rose of Highcourt than his own sister. He let her suffer until her wounds became infected and she died in agony. "King Theron was the one who sent her to the beastmen for a marriage alliance. Duke Charles was supposed to marry Princess Callista, but he later fell for Naia instead." So that was what had happened. While I was hidden away in this temple protecting Ostan, my son had turned his back on his sister for another woman. He let Naia take Callista's place, then sent his sister to live among savages. Callista survived the beastmen and everything they did to her. When they were finally defeated, she must have thought she could come home and put it all behind her. But Naia still wouldn't leave her alone. She bullied Callista every chance she got. Then she framed Callista for plotting to hurt someone, and Theron had her thrown into the dungeon. As I held my daughter's body, I couldn't bear to imagine what she had gone through in that dark, waterlogged dungeon, where prisoners were interrogated on the upper level and executed below. A corrupt kingdom like this didn't deserve the gods' protection. I begged the gods to forgive me. If this was how they treated my daughter, then I no longer cared what happened to this country.

My boyfriend's mistress posted a pregnancy announcement with him on Instagram. They looked ridiculously happy. Then she tagged me and asked for my blessing in front of everyone. Naturally, the whole internet waited for me to tear her apart. They had every reason to expect bloodshed. I'd dragged myself out of the ruins of a crime family and fought my way to the top of Wall Street. Julian Rhodes, meanwhile, was the son of the nanny who had raised me. And Emily Nash? She was a medical intern who grew up in the slums. Soon, even underground bookies were taking bets on what I'd do. Half bet Emily wouldn't make it out alive. The rest bet Julian would die beside her. I did neither. Instead, I shocked everyone by congratulating them. There was a reason for that. A month earlier, Julian had been badly injured while protecting me during a shootout at the pier. The head injury had left him with an alternate personality. That other Julian had fallen hard for the first person he'd seen when he woke up—Emily. A few days earlier, Emily twisted her ankle as she walked past me. That alone was enough to bring out Julian's other personality. He grabbed an antique vase and smashed it against my forehead. Hot blood ran down my brow and into my eye. My hand went straight to the gun at my hip. Then I stopped myself. He laughed and pointed at me. "Caroline, touch Emily again, and the real Julian will never wake up. You'll never see him again." Julian had saved my life the night my family was wiped out. He also held the access keys to everything I owned. So if I wanted the real Julian back, I had no choice but to endure it.

For eight years, I'd managed the career of my boyfriend, Aiden White, a famous celebrity. I was also a partner at Veyra Media and the one pulling the strings behind his career. But on our anniversary trip, Aiden and one of the company's top influencers left me behind at a hotel near a volcano. They drove for forty minutes before they even realized I wasn't with them. When Aiden finally answered my call, he sounded more annoyed than concerned. "Scarlett, why didn't you get in the car? We need to hike to the crater by five, or we'll miss the blue flames! We're already almost there. I can't turn around and drive all the way back for you!" "Scarlett can find a ride and meet us here," Karina said in the background. "You know she can take care of herself. She'll be fine." In the past, I would've swallowed my hurt and rushed to catch up with them. But this time, I stared at the moon in the distance and realized I didn't want to chase after Aiden anymore. I pulled up the itinerary I'd spent weeks planning and canceled every flight and hotel booking. Then I booked a new trip to Veythira, a quiet coastal town I'd always dreamed of visiting. Aiden had never wanted to go. He thought it was too remote and had nothing worth seeing. I was done following him. From now on, I'd choose my own path.

The night before the wedding, I'm about to share the news of my pregnancy with Chester Miller when I see Giselle Thorne sitting in his lap intimately. I'm about to storm in and confront them when I notice a man standing beside them. That man looks exactly like Chester, my boyfriend. I freeze, holding my breath as their voices carry clearly through the room. "Chester, this is ruthless. You actually proposed to her. From what I know, Miranda poured so much effort into this wedding," Giselle says. Chester snorts. "Giselle, she ruins your work and costs you the chance to win. I can't wait to see her, all dressed in her wedding gown and beaming with joy, only to watch me walk down the aisle holding your hand. Just thinking about it gives me a thrill." My eyes widen. It's clearly Giselle who has threatened me to hand over my work, and when she fails, she tears up her own painting in fear of losing the competition. Before I can react, the man who looks like Chester suddenly speaks. "Chester, who's walking down the aisle with her—you or me?" Chester chuckles. "Of course I am. Felix, have you forgotten? Miranda belongs to you only at night." In that instant, I finally understand why Chester Miller is cold by day and passionate by night. It turns out they aren't the same person at all. He and Felix are twin brothers. I clutch the pregnancy report tightly, pressing it against the doorframe as I glare at the three of them through the crack. "I won't let any of you get what you want," I vow silently.

I was a slum kid who fell for Damon Vitale, New York’s most feared Godfather. For five years, I was his. I took nine bullets for him. He’d kiss my scars as I bled out for him. Hold me close. Clasp the queen’s necklace around my throat. Then, once I healed, he’d fuck me senseless, with a passion that felt like forever. I thought we’d spend our lives together. I thought he would marry me. But on our 999th night together, he told me he was engaged. To Bianca, a mafia princess from a rival family. I swallowed my tears. He just grabbed my chin, blew smoke in my face, and laughed. "You didn't really think you could marry me, did you, Nora? Let's be clear. We fuck. That's it. You're not a partner. You're a piece of art I collect. A pet I own." A pet. That’s all he ever wanted for me. Instead, I picked up a burner phone. [I'm taking your offer. Three days. Get me the hell out of New York.]

The day I finally got the witch's potion to heal his wolf, I threw my arms around Ethan, trembling with excitement. "Your wolf can be healed. We can finally be together. Really together!" He clicked his tongue. "That eager to be marked?" I froze. What does that mean? Then laughter exploded from his phone. A group call, speaker on. "Ethan, she's even dumber than we thought! She actually went and found a cure so she could marry you. Just mark her already—she's desperate!" "Even if his wolf gets fixed, Sera's the one who deserves to be Luna. A pureblood, not some bastard whose mom slept her way into the family. How does she deserve to marry an Alpha?" Alpha? Luna? I stared at the man in front of me, the one who'd always seemed so fragile, whose wolf was supposedly so faint it could barely be sensed. He was the Alpha heir of our pack. And Sera was the stepsister who'd been bullying and tormenting me since middle school. Three years. All Ethan had to do was take a few scent-suppressing pills, and I'd fallen for every word. Everything he'd done was to keep Sera happy.

On a flight, my boyfriend Cassio tried to steal a seat for his pregnant childhood sweetheart. Last time, I stopped him. I forced him to return the seat to its rightful owner. Out of spite, his sweetheart Ella refused to take the seat. She stood through the entire flight. By the time we landed, she miscarried. She bled out and died. Cassio never blamed me. He arranged her funeral quietly… Then married me. He gave me the best prenatal care, the finest doctors, and a seemingly perfect life. Until the day I went into labor. He put me on a long-haul flight with multiple layovers. And when I collapsed in a filthy airport restroom, bleeding and barely conscious— He looked down at me with pure hatred. “Serena, this is what you owe her.” “If you hadn’t interfered back then, Ella would still be alive.” “Today, you and your bastard child will pay for her and her baby.” When I opened my eyes again, I was back on that flight. Watching him berate the plainly dressed woman, I quietly put on my noise-canceling headphones. He didn’t know that woman was the beloved wife of the most dangerous mafia Don in the city. And the kick he was about to deliver— Would be their death sentence. This time, I just watched.

My fiancé, Alpha Theron, was the star player on the pack hockey team. Yet even as his mate, the pack mocked me as a fat pig that had wandered in among wolves. But when he was attacked, I was the one who stepped in front of him. Hockey sticks came down on my back and my shoulders. The pain cut to the bone, and I gritted my teeth and took it. That overweight body everyone despised was the only reason not one blow landed on him. It was also what finally made the old Luna nod and agree to let me marry into the family. But while I lay unconscious from my injuries, Theron announced that he would mark my stepsister Hannah, the cheer captain, instead. Not only that. Hannah posted videos online of the two of us practicing cheer routines together. "Who wants to watch a pig dance sexy? The Alpha had his reasons for turning her down." "Look at all that useless fat. Is that really a wolf?" Then, while the mockery was at its worst, she asked me to forgive her, as if none of it had been on purpose. When my heart was already ash, my father and my stepmother threw me out of the house. "All that fat, clumsy and ugly, and she cannot even hold on to her own mate." "She is that fat and still joined the cheer squad. Now the rest of us get mocked too. How humiliating!" As a rogue, I swallowed every kind of suffering there is. In one year I lost over a hundred pounds and became the brightest cheer sweetheart in the league. Then I turned around and cheered for the most valuable player on the ice. Theron heard about it and came running. He dropped to his knees with red eyes and clung to the hem of my skirt. "You were my love, my mate! What does that idiot who can only swing a stick have that I don't?"

I was preparing a gift for our six-year anniversary when my best friend sent me a photo of my Alpha boyfriend kissing another she-wolf. "Wait, when did you get to Chicago?" The she-wolf in the picture looked a lot like me, but it wasn't me. That's when I found out that my boyfriend of six years had been searching for replacements for his dead childhood sweetheart the whole time. I was number 5. The she-wolf in the photo was number 18. I rushed to Chicago and tracked down Lucas using his phone's location. "Dude, this number 18 really looks like Ally, even more than Sophia does!" "Nah man, Sophia still looks more like her. She's number 5 after all - if she didn't look so much like Ally, why would Lucas have stuck with her for six years?" Lucas flicked his cigarette ash, looking completely relaxed: "They both look pretty similar, but number 18's way better in bed. Sophia's too uptight." "I heard you had someone pick out a diamond ring. You planning to propose? To Sophia or this new chick?" Lucas leaned back into the couch with a cocky grin: "Haven't decided yet. Why don't you guys choose for me?" I turned around, my whole body shaking as a chill ran from my head to my toes. After calming down, I texted my best friend: "Your Alpha cousin, the one who had a crush on me and waited four years - is he still single?"

My childhood sweetheart hated me for tearing him away from the Beta's daughter, and he hated that my father was the pack's Alpha. My father not only sent the woman my childhood sweetheart loved off to another pack to be their Luna, he even refused to let him reject the mate bond that tied us together. For seven years after the marking, he wept every single night. "The North is bitter and brutal. How will Gianna ever survive there?" But to me, the woman he lived beside every day, he had only this to say. "Why did the Moon Goddess bind us together? I don't care about Alpha blood at all..." "If I could, I'd wish I had never met you!" Every night we shared one bed, yet our hearts felt miles apart. For Gianna's sake, he fought against the pull of fate itself. But the day the vampires attacked the pack, he shielded me behind him. Claws tore through fur, fangs sank into his forearm, and a cold silver dagger buried itself in his heart. His scalding blood splashed across me. I tried to drag him to the statue of the Moon Goddess, but he shoved me away without a moment's hesitation. "I've already failed the woman I love in this life. I won't fail the pack too." "Matilda, the bond between us is finally broken. In the next life, may we each get what we truly want..." With that, his wolf faded into nothing. The pack was destroyed, and I would not go on living in a world without it. That day I cut out my own heart with a silver blade, and as the Alpha's daughter, I shielded the pack's people with my last breath. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day they chose who would be sent north to marry. "Father, I'm willing to go to the North and become the Luna of its Alpha." This time, I'll let them have their happiness, and I'll claim my own!

After the Covenant Gala, Mother handed me a list. The names of every vampire at the banquet. I was to choose a blood-bound mate. This time, I didn't choose Damon Blackwood. I didn't choose anyone on her list. I chose Caspian Blackwood. Damon’s ancestor. The true Monarch of the Blackwood clan, slumbering for centuries. Mother’s jaw dropped. Everyone knew I’d spent centuries chasing Damon. But they didn't know the truth of my last life. After our blood bond, he refused my touch, my bed, my very existence. I told myself he was consumed by Covenant affairs. When no heir came, I blamed myself. Then I found it. The truth. It had always been her. From the very beginning. My sister, Delia. He never came home because the sight of me repulsed him. But this time, as Caspian and I stood at the altar, our hands clasped to seal our bond… Damon snapped.

I’d been married to my husband James for three years. On Valentine’s Day, he gave his stepsister, Mia, one hundred and eighty thousand dollars, along with millions in jewelry. I, on the other hand, received a free bouquet of roses. When I didn’t look thrilled, he accused me of being a gold digger. “Mia never had anyone to care for her growing up. Why are you competing with her? Isn’t being Mrs. Smith enough to feed your vanity?” Furious, I stormed out of the house. When a car lost control and came barreling toward me, he instinctively rushed to protect Mia, who was standing a full ten feet from the road. I was the one who ended up in the hospital. Lying in that bed, I finally gave up. I signed the divorce papers without hesitation. “Giving up the title of Mrs. Smith is the dumbest decision you’ll ever make,” he told me, looking down at me from above before walking away. Seven years later, we met again. He took one glance at my simple dress and laughed out loud. I didn’t bother to respond. I just held my daughter close and waited for her father—the richest man in the city—to arrive.

On my wedding day, my mafia fiancé, Ryder Conti, had his men bar me from the church. Instead, he walked down the aisle with another woman on his arm. He shrugged at me through the iron gates. "Emilia, the Contis need an heir, and Carmela is carrying a Rossi." "Once I use the Rossi influence to solidify my position in the Family, I'll divorce her. You'll still be my woman." Everyone thought I would obediently nod and wait for him to come back. For ten years, I had loved him more than life itself, even cutting ties with my family for him. That very night, I boarded a private jet to Sicily to accept an arranged marriage with the Godfather of the Vettori family. From then on, I vanished without a trace from Ryder Conti's world. Three years later, I returned to New York with my husband and child to deal with a traitor in the Family. Zayn had some last minute business, so he sent his men to collect me. I never expected to see a face from my past. Ryder looked at me with a smirk. "Had enough fun out there? Since you've come crawling back, this is perfect. Carmela's son needs a cook. You can do the job." Wait, he just called me, the most respected Donna in the underworld, the cook?

Peggy Flannery, the new recruit who's being mentored by my husband, Eugene Shaw, insists on practicing how to carve words onto a patient's heart. It so happens that my mother-in-law has suffered from a sudden heart attack. So, I quickly take her to the hospital so that Eugene, who's also known as a genius surgeon, can save her life. Unbeknownst to me, Eugene is quick to entrust my mother-in-law to Peggy, who has barely joined the hospital for three days, so that she can practice her carving on her. Peggy is very careless with her strength. When she's in the middle of carving something onto my mother-in-law's heart, she accidentally punctures a heart valve, resulting in my mother-in-law's instant death. Once the death happens, Peggy wails to Eugene, "That hag is really frail and delicate! I'm not even done carving my name onto her heart! What should I do now?" Eugene wipes her tears away gently. There's heartbreak in his eyes as he says, "It's fine. No one will be able to bully you with me around." Once Eugene exits the operating theater, he declares that the surgery is a failure and that I should start preparing the funeral matters. Unable to accept reality, I grab him by the shoulders and keep questioning him. "Isn't this just a minimally invasive surgery? How did Mom die just like that? I want to see the surgical footage!" But Eugene responds by slapping me angrily. "Your mom is already old, to begin with! How dare you pin the blame on others when her frail and weak body is the main cause of her death! I haven't even begun to settle the score with you for giving Peggy such a huge fright! "Hurry up and sign the letter of forgiveness! If this incident does affect Peggy in any way, I'll file for a divorce right away!" Needless to say, I'm so furious that I can't even utter a single word after hearing Eugene's shameless words. Does he seriously think that my mother is the one who's dead? I merely chuckle icily in return. "Honestly speaking, you have more right to sign the letter of forgiveness than I do."

For six years of marriage, Cyran Valehart and I lived with measured respect, as if we were partners holding the same scale in perfect balance. For the sake of my equestrian career, I refused to have children. He shouldered the gossip, endured the judgment, and stood beside me without hesitation. But when I rode into what should have been my final international competition, he went back home with his first love—her hand resting protectively over her swollen belly. "All these years, you chose the horses over me," he spat. "That damned competition meant more to you than our family ever did." His voice shook with righteous anger, but his next words cut far deeper. "Six years ago, I abandoned Celia once. Now she carries my child. I won't betray her again." In that instant, my marriage became nothing but a title. I was reduced to a wife in name only, a figurehead in his home, a shadow he no longer cared to see. During the very competition meant to crown my life's work, Cyran laced a sharp needle beneath my saddle, each stride of my horse a fresh stab of pain meant to break us both. I lost the match. My horse collapsed with a shattered leg. And in that fall, my dream and my marriage were crushed together—ruined by the very man who once swore to protect them. Later, he paid with everything he had, desperate to make amends. But no matter what he sacrificed, Cyran Valehart was already behind me, nothing more than a ghost I would never turn to face again.