Cerita Pendek Tragic Love & Novel Scumbag Revenge

My boyfriend of six years, Liam Sherman, proposes to his long-time crush, Vivi Johansen, on my birthday. With that, the passionate love between us is a thing of the past. I come to my senses and distance myself from him, choosing to put our relationship behind us. As such, I decided to go along with the arranged marriage my family has planned.

I was born wolf-less. At the academy, Arabella made my life hell for it. By the time I graduated, my wolf finally awakened, gifting me powerful healing abilities. I thought the nightmare was finally over. I met my fated mate Alpha Tristan. He was powerful, gorgeous, and promised me the world. But the day I went to tell Tristan I was pregnant was the day I discovered his devastating lie. It was never Tristan in my bed. It was his twin brother, Ronan. The rogue Alpha who’d abandoned the pack years ago to slum it with humans. He used a scent-mimicker to crawl into my bed, to get me pregnant. It was all a twisted plot to humiliate me on my big day. They wanted revenge for Arabella, who lied and claimed I was the bully. They wanted to crush me. I stormed into the study to confront them. I told them I’d expose everything and demand an apology. Instead, they imprisoned me. They performed a dark ritual, siphoning my wolf into Arabella. They drained my life force and murdered my unborn pup. I died in agony. Then I opened my eyes. I was back on the day I found out I was pregnant. I clutched my belly, a single tear tracing a path down my cheek. Those bastards were going to burn for what they did.

My husband, Gideon Hale, returned from the war with barely a breath left in him. Yet despite his condition, he insisted on going to the palace and used his military achievements to secure a royal decree. I thought he had gone to obtain a noble title for me. I was ready to berate him for his foolishness, but the contents of the decree rooted me to the spot. [By royal decree, Gideon Hale, Marquis of Northguard, and his first wife, Clara Reinhart, are permitted to share a tomb.] Clara was my dearest friend from girlhood. My ears rang. I opened my mouth to demand an explanation, but before I could utter a word, Gideon breathed his last. I stood frozen until my son suddenly snatched the decree from my hands and said impatiently, "Mother is Father's true wife. I'm her son too. You gave birth to a daughter, but she died long ago." The words struck me like lightning, and a sharp pain twisted through my chest. "You... What did you just say?" My son didn't answer. Instead, he ordered someone to bring out the family register. The place that had always belonged to me as Gideon's lawful wife now bore Clara Reinhart's name, inscribed there by Gideon's own hand with the utmost solemnity. "Father allowed you to keep the dignity of being his wife. He never publicly acknowledged Mother his entire life. You should be grateful, shouldn't you?" Then he handed me our marriage certificate. Gideon's name still stood beside Clara's. Yet the marriage certificate I had treasured for years was completely blank, as though it had never borne a single word. Only then did the full truth sink in. Not only had I been nothing more than a consort all these years, but I had also raised another woman's child as my own. Before I could draw another breath, I died with my eyes wide open. When I opened them again, I had returned to the day I gave birth.

On the day I miscarried and suffered from haemorrhage, my husband posted a photo of a newborn’s tiny feet on his Instagram Story. The caption read: “Welcome, little angel. Daddy will always protect you.” With trembling hands, I called him. “The baby’s gone. Can you come to the hospital?” On the other end, I heard a baby crying, followed by the man’s impatient voice. “In that case, take good care of yourself. Louise just gave birth and needs someone to care for her. I can’t leave. “Besides, the dead shouldn’t compete with the living for affection. Got it?” He hung up right after. I broke down alone on the hospital bed, and when I finally wiped away my tears, I dialed the number of his sworn enemy, Levi Snow. “Marry me, and the entire Wright Corporation will be my dowry. All I want is for you to bring Finn Yeaton down. Do we have a deal?”

At our wedding, my husband, Justin Garner, pushes me—three months pregnant—toward our enemies as an apology in order to save his foster sister, Clara Garner. "This is my sincerity. You can do whatever you want with her." I don't cry or make a scene. I quietly follow the enemies away. That's because in my previous life, I had traded all my wealth for freedom and returned to Justin's side. In the end, I was forced to drink drugs and lost my unborn baby, suffering for three days and nights. "Justin, those 'enemies' were people you hired to act, and Maxine didn't even lose her innocence. Why did you have to get rid of the baby?" Clara asks. Justin coldly laughs. "If you're acting, you have to make it look real." I died full of hatred. When I wake up again, I choose to let those people take me away. Three years later, when I arrive at a banquet on the arms of my new lover, Justin goes mad, grabbing me and demanding, "Maxine Preston, where is our child?"

My coming-of-age ceremony was supposed to be a celebration. My father, the Alpha of Alphas, had invited every powerful pack in the land. His goal: for me to choose a mate from the land's strongest Alphas. I chose the most powerful of them all, Alpha Lukas. But my sister Lyla, my father's bastard, was only allowed a lowly beta. She was slaughtered in the forest. After her death, Lukas and I crafted 99 soul crystals in her memory. I thought he did it for me, to honor my fallen sister. But then he killed me in battle. With his bare hands. "You bitch! If you hadn't chosen me, Lyla would have been my mate!" Only then did I learn the truth. He had only ever loved Lyla. He hated me for stealing the life that should have been hers. Those 99 soul crystals… they weren't for her memory. They were for my penance. I died in a sea of despair. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of my ceremony. Facing the most powerful Alphas in the world, I walked past them all and chose the one no one wanted. The half-breed outcast despised by all. Salome.

I am the lawfully wedded wife of Don Jones—the Donna of the Jones Family—and the founding CEO of his medical empire. I stood by Vincent's side as we built it up from a two-room surgical clinic into the crown jewel of European private healthcare. Then, in my eighth month of pregnancy, dying on the operating table, Vincent pulled every surgeon out of my maternity ward for the sake of his mistress. He killed our child with his own hands. He stripped me of the right to ever be a mother. He thought I was a homeless orphan with nowhere to go. He had no idea I was the sole blood heir of the Belmonte Family. After the divorce, I came home to command a global medical empire. He knelt and begged. I watched, cold-eyed, as he fell into hell.

I was Alpha Damon’s Head Beta. For six years, I had been his partner in bed and his second-in-command. When he announced our mating ceremony, the entire pack celebrated. My dream was finally within reach. But then, outside his private trophy room, I heard him bragging about his “Luna trials.” And just like that, I learned the truth. I wasn’t his one and only. I was one of thirty candidates. He’d spent a month with each of us, grading our bodies, our submission, our performance. My score? Lower than an Omega’s. Lower than Lydia’s. “Fucking Lydia was incredible,” he boasted. “I could barely pull myself away. Then I look at Elysia—so stiff, so in control—and I’m just… bored.” Ice flooded my veins. My body went numb. Six years of devotion. Countless nights tangled in his sheets. It all meant less than a cheap thrill and a wolf who knew how to kneel. My heartbreak hardened into ice. I sent a message to an Alpha who had wanted me long ago. “Adrian, you once said your offer to mate was a standing one. Does it still stand? Damon and I are over now.”

On the night of the full moon, I lie in the forbidden grounds on the brink of death because of the wolfsbane terrorizing my system. My Alpha mate, Elio Palmer, wrenches my fingers open and snatches the only antidote that I have. "Kelly grew up with me since we were pups. After her parents died, I've been the one who's closest to her. As the Luna, you must sacrifice yourself for her." Then, Elio feeds the antidote to Kelly Giles, who has only gotten infected with a tiny hint of wolfsbane. He doesn't hesitate to abandon me, his dying mate, in the forbidden grounds afterward. He thinks I will accept my death without any resentment, seeing as he's tamed me during our times together. But what he doesn't know is that the thick stench of death doesn't attract any beasts to my side the moment our mate bond is completely severed. Instead, it attracts the attention of Samuel Gray, the Lycan King who drills raw terror into every werewolf in the land. Some time later, Samuel approaches me after slaughtering all the beasts in the forbidden grounds. "Are you planning to die like that after getting abandoned by an inferior mutt?"

Right after returning from a business trip, Cecelia Moore held her ultrasound report as she hurried to the private suite at the club. She was eager to surprise her husband, Francis Rivera. Just as she was about to open the door, she caught a few words drifting through the crack that stopped her cold. "…So, Fran, did you really marry Cecelia Moore just to protect Melody Green?" In that instant, every drop of blood in Cecelia's body seemed to freeze—she couldn't move.

Lucas Morandi and I ran the biggest arms-smuggling network in Sicily. During one deal, we rescued a kidnapped barista named Chloe Bennett. That naive girl fell hopelessly in love with Lucas. She'd wait outside our villa with Italian pastries she'd baked herself. She'd hang around outside the office with coffee she'd made just for him. Lucas always knocked the pastries and coffee into the mud, disgust written all over his face. "Enough with these cheap little gifts. This pathetic domestic fantasy makes me sick." Then, during a bloody raid by a rival family, Chloe's scream gave away our position. I took a sniper's bullet for Lucas and ended up in a deep coma. Lucas hated her for it. He chained her beside my ventilator and grabbed her by the throat, forcing her to beg for forgiveness. Desperate to atone, she grabbed a shard of broken glass and slit her wrist. At the sight, the cold-blooded Don's eyes instantly filled with tears. He gripped the sharp glass with his bare hand, his voice shaking so badly he could barely get the words out. "You think you can escape me by dying? In your dreams!" She collapsed into his arms, sobbing. The man who had sworn he would never marry anyone but me kissed away her tears. I could only lie in that hospital bed and watch helplessly as something inside me died.

My childhood sweetheart, Basil Nolan, died the night before I was going to confess my feelings to him. Every bone in his body was shattered, leaving him mutilated beyond recognition. It was all because he had stumbled upon the golden boy, Calvin Holloway, of the Zenirford elite, intimately wrapped up with his mistress, ruining the mood and killing the buzz. Later, I became that heir's new kept woman. I drank until my stomach bled for him, risked my life in street races for him, and knelt on the pavement in the freezing dead of winter to lick his boots clean. Finally, I managed to warm his cold heart. "I can give you anything in the world, except my heart," he told me. I smiled, wondering if that included his life.

I pleaded with my husband Cedric Fleetham over and over, and finally, he agreed to take our daughter camping in the mountains for her birthday. When I found her late the next night, she was already gone. She lay at the foot of the mountain, her tiny hand still clutching a drawing of our family. As I knelt beside her, my heart shattered. Meanwhile, Cedric was busy updating his social media. His post read, [You and our daughter are my treasures,] and it was accompanied by a photo, where he stood beside his childhood sweetheart and held hands with another little girl, watching the sunset. And there, in the corner of the picture, was a tiny hand—my daughter’s hand. The cruelest truth of all was that my daughter took that photo.

My husband, James Zeller, and I have established a common-law marriage. We did not have a formal wedding ceremony, nor do we have a marriage license. We also live separately, our lives barely intertwining, because he has a special profession. Therefore, despite being married to him for seven years, we've never met each other's friends and relatives. As his wife, I'm proud of being married to him despite how it pains me. I'm willing to give up the opportunity to study at the National Academy of Sciences to take care of things at home while he works. One day, my son, Jasper Chalder, comes home from elementary school crying. He sobs about not being a bastard child and requests to see James. Greatly distressed, I decide to take him to visit the military base over the new year for a family reunion. However, I don't expect this trip to turn my life completely upside down.

I turned a nobody from the streets into a Mafia, and I defied my papa—a man who loved me more than anything—to do it. For five years, I cast aside the honor of being a Principessa, all for the dream of a life with him. I thought the man I loved was on the verge of becoming the next Don of the Moretti family. But then my papa collapsed during his prayers in the church, suffering a massive cardiac arrest in the one place he believed was most sacred, most safe. Robin was by my side day and night, whispering encouragement. "Isabella, you have to be strong. It's the only way your papa can rest in peace." I was planning our wedding, ready to marry the man I thought I could trust with my life, when I overheard him talking to his mistress, Ava. "We finally got rid of the old bastard." "Once I marry Isabella, half the Moretti empire will be ours.." The five years I had willingly dedicated to him had been nothing more than an incubator for his twisted ambition. I wiped my tears and became the Moretti family's princess once more. I swore I would make them pay in blood. So, on the night before my wedding, I picked up my phone and dialed my brother's number. "Brother," I said. "It's time to close the net."

My mate and I have been together for five years, but he always said he wanted to save up $500,000 before marrying me. To help him reach that number faster, I secretly became the most sought-after fidelity tester in the city. One day, I landed a big case. The client complained to me, "We've been together for four years, and he's very generous. He's even planning to propose because he's worried I feel insecure, and he bought me a house." "But I heard he had a mate before me, so just want to make sure he really loves me." She was complaining, sure, but the happiness on her face was impossible to hide. She even showed me photos from their date last month. The moment I saw the photos, I froze. The couple in the pictures were vacationing at the most popular resort in pack territory, their faces pressed close together. They looked blissful and sweet. If only the man in the photo hadn't been Alexander.

At her lavish engagement party, Charlotte Ashford learns that her fiancé Connor has been cheating for three years with Sophia, the sister she loved most. When their betrayal unearths old lies, stolen memories, and the truth behind her parents' final moments, Charlotte cuts them out, rebuilds her life, and leaves Connor to face the regret he thought she would never make him feel.

The day Jack Prescott's family went "bankrupt," he dumped me on the spot. "My mom's house is getting auctioned. I don't want you dragged into this." I actually bought it. Went against my family and stuck by him, slinging street food just to scrape by. "Don't stress. I'll help you buy it back." Three years of nonstop work—burn scars up and down my arms—and I finally scraped together a small fortune. The day we were supposed to sign the papers, I caught him on the phone. "Jack, you coming back?" some guy asked. Jack flicked his cigarette, all smug. "What's the rush? I'm still milking this sad little simp. She's totally whipped. It just keeps getting funnier." All that time, all that love? Just a joke to him.

In order to protect me, Don Salvatore deliberately announces that my fiance, Simone Pozzi, is his long-lost son. Simone shakes with excitement when he sees the man in a bespoke suit stepping out of the Rolls-Royce that is parked outside my house. Just as I'm about to tell him it's all a lie, he shoves me aside. He even brushes his sleeves in disgust, as if he has touched something filthy. Simone says, "Stay away from me. Don't let your poverty rub off on me! Since I'm the Don's son, we'll call off our engagement. An illegitimate bastard like you isn't even fit to wipe my shoes!" When I try to explain, he cuts me off by writing out a check and flinging it hard into my face. The sharp edge of the paper slices across my cheek. "Take this one million dollars as our breakup fee and don't bother me again. We're no longer from the same world," Simone says. I watch the check flutter down into the mud and quietly turn off my phone screen. On the screen is a message Papa—Don Salvatore—has just sent me, "Just bear with it a little longer, Principessa. Papa will bring you home soon to take over the famiglia." Simone is so determined to cut himself off completely. He might have the luck to claim a fortune that big, but not the life to enjoy it.

On the day of my coming-of-age ceremony, a group of bandits stormed into my home. They robbed us of everything we owned and burned our estate to the ground. Then they used my six-year-old sister as leverage, forcing me to show myself. More than a dozen bandits dragged me back to their hideout and tortured me for three days and three nights before selling me to a brothel. I had thought about dying, but even death was beyond my reach. When I was at my most desperate, Duke Landon Knight paid for my freedom and asked if I was willing to go home with him. After crawling through the darkness for so long, I suddenly saw a light that had never gone out. Three years into our marriage, I once asked him why, among all the flowers in the world, he had chosen this withered one—me. "When I caught my first glimpse of you as a child, I swore I'd never marry anyone but you." I thought he truly loved me. I thought that was why he was willing to marry a brothel girl whom everyone else called a woman who had been with countless men. I spent those three years healing from my wounds, hoping that one day I could give him a son or daughter of our own. Until I overheard a conversation between him and his closest friend in his study. "Lucia Bellamy is arriving in the capital tomorrow. Are you really planning to bring her into the estate? "Isabel has already suffered the loss of her family and been humiliated and sold to a brothel. Her life has been tragic enough. Can you really bear to bring Lucia into the estate and hurt her all over again?" Landon answered without hesitation, "What do the lives of a few dozen Conrads matter? If the Conrads hadn't reported the Bellamys back then, Lucia wouldn't have been exiled to Southvale, and we wouldn't have been prevented from marrying. "As for Isabel, I bribed the bandits to sell her to a brothel. I did it only to spare her life and leave her alive long enough for Lucia to come back and take her revenge herself." So that first glimpse he'd never forgotten had been of Lucia, and I was nothing more than a tool for him to use in taking revenge for the woman he loved. The next day, I used the Conrad family signet my grandfather, Leonard Conrad, had left me to secure two imperial decrees. The first was my own request for a divorce, so Lucia could enter the estate as his legal wife. The second ordered a full investigation into the truth behind the massacre of my family, so that their names could finally be cleared.