Historias cortas y novelas

On our wedding day, my fiancée humiliated me in front of everyone. She postponed the ceremony, not for an emergency, but to throw a lavish wedding for her childhood friend's pet hamster. Dressed in my tailored suit, I got shoved off the stage and was laughed at by everyone. My mom couldn't take the humiliation. Her heart gave out, and no ambulance could save her. Days after we buried her, my fiancée reappeared, demanding that I donate a kidney to that friend. The surgery nearly killed me, leaving me broken and betrayed. It prompted me to end things with her. She spiraled into regret, tormenting herself to win me back.

I had been married to my husband for 27 years, but the love between us had faded long ago. Even our children could see it, and they were the ones who tried to persuade me to get a divorce. "Mom, you and Dad are still young. You still have time to pursue your own life." "Yeah, Mom. You shouldn't force yourself to live like this anymore. We'd support you if you got divorced." With their encouragement, my husband and I finally ended our marriage. My daughter even helped introduce me to someone new. Not long after the divorce, I began a new relationship. But just as I was preparing to remarry, my ex-husband suddenly sued me. He accused me of cheating during our marriage. My own children appeared in court and testified against me. They confirmed his accusations. No matter how hard I tried to explain, no one believed me. In the end, I walked away from the divorce with nothing. My new boyfriend and I were dragged through the mud online. [You shameless old woman. One foot in the grave and you're still chasing another man!] [At your age, you’re still getting divorced? Hope you and your little side piece stay together.] A few self-righteous, extremist internet vigilantes broke into my home. They tied my boyfriend and me to a bed, poured gasoline over us, and set us on fire. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day my children first tried to convince me to get a divorce.

I had promised my son that when he turned three, the three of us would go to the amusement park together as a family. But he never lived to see that birthday. My husband, Daniel Shaw, who was a perfect match for the bone marrow transplant, disappeared just before the surgery—phone off, leaving no trace. Without him, our son lost his last chance at survival. When Daniel finally came home, he asked, "Where's our son? Weren't we supposed to take him to the amusement park for his birthday?" Then his eyes fell on the urn. That was the moment he truly lost his mind.

I'm performing heart surgery when my "crimes" are announced through the hospital's speakers. The woman cries, "Dr. Maeve Thornton wrecked my family, seduced my husband, and chose to be with him despite knowing he was married! "She contacted my husband in private and operated on my five-year-old daughter when she was perfectly fine. She attempted murder during the surgery!" The woman is my husband's mistress, but she turns the tables on me and kicks the operation theater's door down with a group of people who think they're righteous. She curses at me and kicks the medical equipment over, wanting me to get on my knees and apologize. She and her entourage take my scalpel away, strip me of my scrubs, and even stab me with my scalpel. There's blood everywhere. I start laughing when my husband finally arrives. "So, this is the biggest surprise you've prepared for me, huh?"

The night before our wedding, my fiancée let her so-called "best friend" butcher the gown my late mother had sewn, chopping it into a revealing mini dress. I rushed over with the ruined dress in my arms, ready to demand answers: only to catch their voices through the door: "Imagine him expecting me to wear something a dead woman stitched. What a curse!" Through the narrow gap, I saw my distant, frigid fiancée flushed with color, straddling his lap. "What we did at the bridal shop wasn't enough," she murmured. "Tomorrow, walking down the aisle in this tiny dress you made me, it'll be even more exhilarating." Their lips met. My hand froze against the door, and inside, something broke with a soundless crack. If she longed for thrills, I would grant her some.

I'd been married to Matteo—the Lamberti Don—for five years. No one knew I was his wife. I didn't want the perks. The spotlight. So I stayed invisible. We were in love. Still felt like dating every single day. Then my first day at the new hospital wrecked everything. "Dr. Accardi, you won't believe this." A coworker leaned in, grinning. "Guess who that new patient's husband is? Matteo freaking Lamberti." I froze. If she was his wife—then who was I? She was pregnant. Carrying the future Lamberti heir. So what did that make the baby inside me? I held it together. Did the exam. Played the calm, capable doctor. No one saw the panic clawing through me. I told myself it was gossip. Lies. It had to be. Then I heard Matteo call her 'my princess.' That was it. He had a new 'princess.' And I had to let him go.

After I landed a five-million-dollar contract and saved the company from financial collapse, my CEO wife wrapped me in an excited embrace and said she wanted to have a baby with me. She took out her phone and showed me a virtual baby on an app she had just signed up for. "Look, honey," she said. "Isn't it adorable? You can even change how it looks. Do you like it? Once things settle down at the company, we can have a real one." That night, I came across a post by her male secretary on social media. It was a photo of a positive pregnancy test, with my wife's figure visible in the background. I did not comment. I just liked the post. When my wife noticed, she panicked and called me immediately. "Honey, it's not what you think. Please listen to me! I wanted to surprise you. The baby is yours! "Can you clear things up on social media for everyone? I promise I'll give you a child of your own soon." She insisted the baby was mine, yet she seemed to have forgotten that we had not shared a bed in six months. "End the pregnancy," I said. "We're finished."

Alpha Kieran personally invited me to serve as Beta of Silvercrest Pack. But on my second day in the territory, my neighbor Gloria dragged her disheveled daughter Daisy to the center of the training grounds and dropped to her knees, accusing my son Koda of sexually assaulting her barely-eighteen-year-old daughter. Daisy stripped off her clothes in front of everyone, revealing horrifying bruises and claw marks. Gloria had even paid top dollar for a witch to perform a memory trace spell. Daisy sobbed until she nearly passed out. "Koda said if I didn't do as I was told, he'd bite me to death..." The entire pack was in an uproar. Everyone was screaming for blood. "Alpha, why should someone like her be our Beta?" "Vera can't even control her own son — how is she supposed to lead this pack?" They even demanded that Alpha have Koda seized and executed on the spot. I wasn't the least bit worried. Because when they finally brought Koda to the training grounds and everyone got a good look at him — Every single person there, including Gloria's family, froze. I nearly burst out laughing. …

I was born with a rare condition. My blood carried healing properties strong enough to neutralize any poison. When Garrett Frank, the young heir from Osbury, was bitten by a venomous snake, he was hanging by a thread. In that desperate moment, I slit my wrist and used my blood to cleanse the venom from his body. Only later did I find out that whoever saved Garrett's life would become the future Mrs. Frank. But after Garrett took over the family business, the first thing he did was drain every drop of blood from my body and have me chopped up and fed to his dogs. "At that time, Loretta had already brought the antidote," he had said coldly. "If you had just waited another five minutes, I could've married her openly and honorably. "But you had to interfere. You stole her place as Mrs. Frank, drove her into despair, and pushed her to take her own life. Since you claim your blood can cure any poison, let's see how much antidote it can make." They bled me dry and threw me into a cage for his dogs. I died there, torn apart and unrecognizable. Afterward, my parents went bankrupt because of the Franks. Both of them took poison and died together. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day Garrett had been bitten by the snake. Michelle Frank, Garrett's mother, looked at me with desperate hope. "I heard you have that rare healing blood," she said. "Will you please save my son?" I quickly shook my head. "That's just a rumor, Mrs. Frank. And honestly, using blood as medicine sounds pretty unsanitary. Please don't worry. I heard Ms. Huber is on her way with a special antidote. Your son will be fine!" Still, a small part of me couldn't help looking forward to what would happen. If I didn't step in this time, Garrett wouldn't just fail to inherit the family business—he'd be lucky to live another month!

The afternoon my critical condition notice was issued, Silas Stenson popped a bottle of champagne in the lab. On social media, a photo showed him and Wynter Keller standing side by side in the golden sunset, their white coats bathed in light. The caption read only one line—'Ten years—it finally worked.' Everyone said he was devoted, that he'd spent ten sleepless years trying to save me. When the nurse, her eyes red, showed it to me on her phone, I was staring at the wavering lines on the monitor. No one knew that the drug had already been perfected a year ago. And I was the only candidate who wasn't allowed to receive it.

I donated 45 million to the city's best kindergarten, but my daughter failed the enrollment interview. She was a polymath. Furious, I demanded an explanation from admissions. She hurled an assessment file at my face. "Your daughter's brilliant, but you're the exact opposite! You're dead last among the parents!" She continued, "The others have tech domes! You're nothing but a regular Ivy League graduate! Your degree's worth about as much as toilet paper!" The other teachers laughed as well. "If we admit her daughter, it's going to look bad on the other kids. She can't take that responsibility." "Yeah, I can't believe she's demanding an explanation from Ms. Johnson. Her husband is the kindergarten's biggest stakeholder. He can make sure her daughter has nowhere to go." The admission teacher shoved me away. With disdain in her eyes, she said, "Out of my sight if you know what's good for you. My husband is picking me up in his Rolls-Royce. His car plate alone is worth more than your life! It's lucky 777! Only one in Georgeport!" Three sevens? That was my husband's car. I laughed mirthlessly and texted my husband. "I had no idea you had another wife behind me."

I'm diagnosed with a rare, incurable disease. A wonder drug that is being auctioned off is my last chance at survival. However, upon winning the bid for the said drug, my parents hand it to my older cousin, Annie Harper, who is suffering from infertility instead. This time, I will not make a fuss. I will even purchase a variety of supplements for Annie. My fiance tells me that Annie deserves to be married off splendidly. He wants to give his wedding gifts, which were originally meant for me, to her instead. I consent willingly. On top of that, I transfer both the house and the car he purchased for me to Annie. My parents have relief and delight written on their faces. "You've finally grown up and understood that Annie needs this medication more than you do because she's getting married." My dad says, "Once I've attended the medical symposium for rare diseases and completed the dissection of a patient's cadaver, I will be able to develop a cure for you." Nonetheless, seven days later, I have become the cadaver meant to be cut open by my father. My primary physician calls my father out in public at the symposium, pointing him out as an unethical doctor who gave my life-saving medication to Annie. My parents and boyfriend are criticized by the audience for being murderers. Yet, they firmly believe that this is how I'm getting back at them. They intend to reveal my memories to the public so that everyone learns that I deserved to die.

In my previous life, during my birthday party, my wife Ruby’s so‑called best friend, Hayden, walked up to me with a glass of wine and a smirk. “Ruby had a little too much to drink last night,” he said. “I helped her shower. Hope you do not mind.” I lost my temper on the spot, and I demanded a divorce. I left with nothing because I wanted to get away from the two of them as quickly as possible. In the end, I died alone in a rented apartment. No one came to see me, not even once. After my death, Ruby’s company went public without any trouble. Her wedding with Hayden became the talk of the city. Everyone called them a perfect match. When they mentioned me, there was only ever one line: "That man just had bad luck. He was never meant for anything better." When I opened my eyes again, I was back at my birthday party. Hayden walked up to me once more and repeated the exact same words. This time, I did not get angry. I smiled. I reached for Yara, my closest friend, who had come with me, and slipped my arm through hers in an intimate gesture. Under Ruby and Hayden's stunned gazes, Yara blinked innocently at Ruby, whose face had gone pale. "Ruby, don't be jealous. Jeff and I grew up together." She paused just long enough, then added with a faint smile, "After all, I was the one who taught him his first time."

Because I refused to terminate my pregnancy to donate bone marrow for my younger sister, Selena Malone, she left behind a suicide note and threw herself into the sea. While my mother hated me for standing by and doing nothing, my father blamed me for being selfish and heartless. My husband, Lucian Crowe, sent me to the hospital to abort our child, forcing me to experience the pain of losing someone I loved. In the end, they joined forces to bind me to a sea stack, saying they wanted me to taste what it felt like for Selena to be swallowed by the ocean. By the time they remembered me, my corpse had already begun to rot.

I went skiing alone on Valentine’s Day to clear my head. I never expected that later that night, my younger brother, Mason Cases, would show up after running away from home following a fight with our family. The front desk stopped him and asked for additional registration. I explained, "He’s my brother. He ran out after an argument and didn’t bring his ID. He’s just staying one night. I’ll take him home tomorrow." After hearing that, the receptionist, Riley Rowe, gave us a suggestive once-over, winking at my brother with a look that said, "I get it." "Alright," she said with a flirty smile. "It’s Valentine’s Day. I understand. No need to be shy." Seeing how exhausted Mason looked, I forced myself to swallow the disgust and brought him upstairs. That night, I came across a local post online. "Girls these days have no shame. Bringing some random guy back to a hotel on Valentine’s Day. She got caught and still had the nerve to lie, saying he’s her brother. Like I can’t tell?" Some users questioned whether she might have mistaken them. "I’ve worked in this industry for over ten years. There’s no way I got it wrong! She didn’t dare register him. Obviously, she’s afraid her husband will find out she’s cheating! I’m going to go listen outside their door later and livestream how loud she gets!" I froze. It couldn’t be that much of a coincidence, right? Until I opened the photo she had secretly taken. My blood turned to ice. That was me. Wait. The "random guy" she was talking about… Did she mean the one lying on the floor? But he really was my biological younger brother.

"Luna Seraphina, are you certain you wish to proceed with the breaking of the mate bond? Once we begin the ritual, the bond between you and Alpha Kaden will be gone forever. Your power, your standing, and everything you hold within the pack will no longer exist." The aged priest of the pack held Seraphina’s hand, her weathered eyes reflecting worry. Seraphina nodded, her voice unwavering with determination. "I’m sure." The priest persuaded Seraphina, "The ritual will bring you unimaginable pain, and Alpha Kaden will suffer greatly too. Please, could you reconsider it?" Seraphina broke the skin of her finger with a silver pen and pressed her blood print on the ancient werewolf script to seal the deal. "Let’s begin." "Very well. After the ritual, you will forsake the name, Seraphina Mor, and in return, the Moon Goddess will grant you a new life. You will go by Kathryn Flint, is that correct?" "Yes." Kathryn would leave and begin a new chapter in a forest. It was a path she had set out for herself. She was going to leave and break free from the pack that had been nothing but lies. After the ritual, the priest handed her a new human ID and passport. "Can I leave the territory now?" "Yes, you may. The confirmation slip holds the Moon Goddess’s blessing, which has the power to mask your scent from the Alpha seeking to track you, but it can only last for a week." Seraphina prepared her departure with haste. She would bring nothing else with her, neither her Luna staff nor her registered name on the pack’s records. Seraphina was leaving with her new passport in a week anyway. The Luna title could remain with the pack for good, for she no longer needed it.

I was in San Aria Bay with my mom, enjoying a quiet, sunlit getaway, when my phone suddenly lit up with a string of messages from my husband's ever-arrogant secretary. She sent a photo. The woman in it had been stripped naked, her body covered in blood, the sight almost unbearable. A voice message followed, her tone dripping with disdain. "Jeannie, do people like you always take advantage of others like this? "Mr. Smith just bought this house, and you already had your mother move in for free? As his chief secretary, it's my responsibility to remove anyone living off him."

I was the real daughter—unloved, unwanted, and cast aside. The design draft I poured my heart into was stolen by my second brother and gifted to the fake daughter. Then he accused me of being a plagiarist. My father, the richest man in the city, had me blacklisted from the entire industry. The fake daughter pretended to apologize, then pushed me off a cliff. When I woke up, nearly all my bones had been shattered. I called my fiancé, the captain of the rescue team, but he was cradling the fake daughter's sprained ankle. He scoffed, "Oh, you had an accident too? Want me to save you? Why don't you just die already?" My body grew colder under the crushing pain. My eldest brother, the forensic pathologist, cut open my rotting corpse while grumbling that he was late for the fake daughter's birthday. Yet when they finally saw me again, they all cried, begging for my forgiveness.

I went through surgery at the hospital 99 times because of my boyfriend's fetish. He promised to marry me after the 100th round. I was filled with joy when the final procedure was finished. This was our 100th round of intimacy, and I wanted to give Chad Simmons an unforgettable night. I quietly pushed open the doors of our villa. I heard laughter coming from inside the house and my name being mentioned. It made me pause in my step. "You've got the most high-end social butterfly of the upper social circle wrapped around your little finger, Chad. She's really stupid enough to believe that you'll marry her. "Will she go mad when she finds out that she isn't your bride half a month from now? Will she get her old lovers to destroy your company?" Chad took a puff of his cigarette and said with a smile, "She would never dare to do something like that. I have videos of her sleeping with 99 men. If she does anything to me, I'll post those videos online and make her famous." "You're incredible, Chad! She probably has no idea that she slept with a bunch of old men instead of you!" Everyone started heaping praises on how impressive Chad was. I was stunned. No wonder Chad fed me a glass of milk every time before we slept together. It was to keep me from resisting. I tore up my surgery report and turned to leave. Since I was not his bride, I would make his wishes come true and marry someone else.

On the day Raina Whitmore makes the Helios Rich List, she smiles for the cameras and declares, "I wouldn't be here without my secretary, Kieran Vale. He's the most important person in my life." While she confesses her love in the interview, I lie in a hospital bed, worn out and fading. I'm her husband, the one who's held her company together all these years. But I don't get a single word of thanks. My daughter, Talia Hart, even looks at me with pure disdain. "Dad, you've held Mom and Uncle Kieran back long enough. It's time you let go and let them be together." Rage surges through me. My chest tightens, and everything goes black. When I open my eyes, I'm back 30 years earlier, standing in the Whitmore residence to choose my fiancee. This time, I don't hesitate. I skip right over Raina and choose her aunt, Elara Whitmore.