Secretary Melodramatic Short Stories & Novels

I was finally pregnant after three years of marriage. I was going to head to where my husband works with a lunchbox in my hand to tell him the good news. But I ended up being mistaken as a mistress by his secretary. She dumped the food I had prepared on my head, stripped my clothes off, and continued to hit me until I had a miscarriage. “You’re just a servant. How dare you seduce Mr. Gates and bear his child? “Today, I’ll make sure you suffer the consequences of being a mistress!” She then went to my husband asking for a reward. “Mr. Gates, I took care of a servant who wanted to seduce you. How are you going to reward me?”

When I was struck by a stomach illness, my boyfriend, Charles Fischer, was busy blowing out birthday candles with his assistant, Beverly Wagner. I lay there in excruciating pain, but he didn't even glance at me. Instead, he affectionately stroked her nose.  “Bev is a year older! Make a wish, birthday girl!” Later, after I had fainted and was rushed to the hospital, I called Charles, only for him to ignore me.  Meanwhile, Beverly posted a photo on Instagram. Gifts filled the screen, with the caption, [Yay! Charles is the best ever! Charles and Bev, together forever!] When I confronted him, Charles didn’t care at all. "It's Bev’s birthday. Were you expecting me not to spend it with her? If you can't handle it, we're done!" This was the umpteenth time he'd threatened to break up with me, always confident that I wouldn't dare to leave him.  Not this time.

My newlywed husband forces me, a late-stage liver cancer patient, to drink hard liquor just to please his secretary. When the secretary later stages a setup, pretending to take a knife for him, she loses too much blood. In a panic, he demands that I give her a blood transfusion. I name my price—ten million dollars. He sneers. "Your blood really is worth its weight in gold, huh?" Of course it is. A liver cancer patient's blood doesn't come cheap. Later, when his precious secretary crashes into my car, he mocks me again. "You caused the accident on purpose, didn't you? Stop pretending—you just want more money. Wendy Yaeger, you disgust me." I'm done. All I want now is to get that divorce certificate before I die, but he looks down at me with disdain. "Don't use such pathetic tricks to get my attention. You're not even qualified to negotiate with me." Fine. Once I'm dead, the marriage will end on its own.

I was with Ivan Knowles for seven years. Despite the rumors that always swirled around him, he never gave me a reason to doubt his loyalty. He let me check his phone and even welcomed me to join him on business trips. I never found anything suspicious until our engagement day. The host had just shared how Ivan flew in my favorite white roses from abroad when the big screen, meant to play a video celebrating our seven years together, instead showed a hospital room. The cry of a newborn rang out. Ivan sat on the bed holding the baby. His secretary, Alba Lawson, leaned on his shoulder, wearing the same diamond ring as mine. Tearfully, she explained to me that it was a misunderstanding. "Alba is a single mom," Ivan excused. "I'm just helping her out as her boss. Don't make a big deal out of this." The room went quiet, everyone waiting for me to flip out. I didn't. Instead, I calmly slipped off my ring and handed it to him. "Of course not. I just wish you happiness."

At Ryder Quinn’s kindergarten parent-child sports day, I expected my husband, Michael Quinn, to be away on a business trip. Instead, I found Michael on stage, dressed in a ballet tutu, dancing as one of the "little swans" in the fathers’ performance. I had barely taken a step forward when a little girl in a floral dress darted into his arms, calling out to him in the sweetest voice, "Daddy!" There they stood: Michael, his assistant, Janine Carter, and her daughter—all in matching family outfits. The moment our eyes met, Michael quickly pulled away from her, fumbling for an excuse. "Janine’s a single mom. It isn’t easy for her. I was just helping out." I smiled, cold and steady, and handed him the divorce papers. "Then, do me a favor too, Michael. Stop wasting my youth."

For five years, I was Carlos’s dirty little secret. In the light of day, I was his executive assistant, handling his legitimate businesses while he treated me with cold, professional detachment. In the shadows, I was the woman he claimed to love more than life itself, the one who warmed his bed while he whispered promises against my skin. That was until I found out I was pregnant. I was ready to tell him, to finally ask for a life in the light. But then, I discovered Carlos had purchased a secluded estate in the suburbs—a fortress meant for a wife. I followed him there, heart in my throat, only to watch through the window as his hand slid beneath a woman’s silk lingerie, his eyes burning with a raw desire I thought belonged only to me. "Sophie," he groaned, his voice rough with emotion. "I stayed unmarried all these years for one reason. I was waiting for you to come back to the States. Marry me." The sounds of their pleasure echoed from the room. The shock was a physical blow; my body revolted, and the stress induced a miscarriage right there in the cold. When I woke up in the hospital, empty and broken, I made a call I had been avoiding for years. I accepted the arranged marriage my family had set up for me—a political alliance with a rival syndicate. The next morning,I would vanish from Carlos’s life forever.

Brad Harrington's executive assistant was having another depressive episode. He pulled out the divorce papers. "It's just paperwork," he said. "Once she's stable, we'll remarry immediately." I picked up the documents, skimmed a few pages, then looked up at him. "I'm walking away with nothing?" His face twisted with impatience. "It's a fake divorce. Are you really going to nickel-and-dime this?" I just smiled and said nothing. Quietly, I signed my name. What he didn't know — I had been waiting for this day for a very long time.

It was right before the Full Moon Gala for our seventh mating anniversary. My fated mate, Alpha Caleb, pinned me against the wall for a deep kiss. His large hands roamed my body, eyes burning with lust. He almost couldn't resist stripping me naked right then and there. Blushing, I pushed him away. "We have the Full Moon Gala to attend. How can they start without the Alpha and Luna?" He let me go reluctantly, wrapping an arm around my waist as we headed to the venue. Seeing the hickey on my neck, his Beta, Marco, smirked and asked him in the pack's obscure old Lycan tongue. "Alpha, who's hotter in bed? The Luna or your new Omega assistant?" Caleb casually handed me a pastry, then carelessly replied in the old Lycan tongue. "That Omega is so tight she drives me fucking crazy. But keep your mouths shut. If the Luna finds out, she'll leave me. Her temper is fiercer than that Omega's body." His Beta and Gamma chuckled, promising to keep their Alpha's secret. I stood right there, while my inner wolf let out a mournful whimper. Caleb had no idea. To help him run the pack better, I had pored over ancient texts and mastered their secret tongue long ago. I also knew long ago that he had an Omega mistress. But I didn't cry or throw a fit. I simply submitted an application to the Hidden Sanctuary of the Supreme Healers' Council in silence. In three days, I would do exactly what he feared. I would sever our mate bond completely and leave his territory forever.

The day my boyfriend returned from his business trip overseas, I broke up with him. He looked at me with a faint smile. "You're breaking up with me just because I didn't buy you that handbag?" "Yes." I nodded without hesitation. Seven days earlier, my boyfriend, Elias Jones, had traveled to Francoria on a business trip with his team. When he came back, he had souvenirs for everyone. Even the security guard at the office received a crocodile leather belt. Everyone got a gift except me. The bag I had been talking about for the past two months and wanted for my birthday had slipped his mind completely. Then I opened Instagram and saw a photograph his newly hired secretary had posted, proudly showing off a designer handbag. [Feeling grateful for the best boss in the world! You're the absolute best!] Elias had replied beneath the post. [It was nothing.] I stared at the screen for a long time before quietly deleting the message I had been about to send him. Melissa: [Can't wait for you to come home.] Elias and I had known each other since we were seven years old. We fell in love at eighteen and had spent the last twenty years growing up side by side. There had been a time when I was always his first priority. Somewhere along the way, everyone else started coming before me. Just like now. We were in the middle of ending our relationship when his phone lit up with a Messenger invitation from Tracy, his new secretary, asking him to join her for lunch. He glanced at the notification, smiled, and waved the whole conversation away. "Come on. Stop being dramatic. "It's just a handbag. I'll buy you one next time. "Tracy's waiting for me for lunch. Just grab a cab home." He hurried out without looking back. I did not try to stop him. Instead, I opened my chat with a studio in Brighton City. They had already invited me to join them seven different times. I finally sent my reply to their last offer. Melissa: [I've decided to accept your offer. My flight arrives tomorrow night. See you in Brighton City.] After hitting send, I slipped my engagement ring off my finger and placed it inside the top drawer of his desk. Elias… From this moment on, our lives would go in their separate directions.

At the company's tenth-anniversary celebration, my wife's male secretary was in charge of the raffle. When it was time for the grand prize, he somehow drew his own name. My wife asked him what he wanted, and he pointed at the watch on my wrist. I flatly refused. How could a personal belonging be used as a prize? But the male secretary turned to my wife and whined, "That watch is a limited edition. There's only one in the world." My wife signaled for me to give the watch to him. I argued my case, but my wife slapped me across the face instead. "It's just a watch. Don't ruin the mood of the anniversary celebration." I smiled, took off the watch, and handed it to her secretary. It was a wedding gift from her that I had treasured for years, but now, I had decided to throw away both the watch and her.