Bittersweet Ending Novels & Stories

One immigration application ended my marriage— and erased me from my husband’s world forever. I was Arabella Ashford— the wife of the man everyone wanted to marry. An Italian mafia heir—Born into power, wealth, and fear. A bloodline successor watched by international law enforcement, forbidden to cross borders, permanently barred from U.S. territory. They said he adored me— built me a private estate so I’d never hear the city, sent me flowers for no reason, just to make me smile, remembered every little thing I liked, every habit and quirk, No one saw the truth. And while the world called him perfect— he was putting another woman in my place, and another life in her womb. So I made my choice. I filed for permanent residency overseas. With that one signature, I erased myself from his world. From that moment on, he would never find me again. This was the price of his betrayal. He didn’t realize I was losing him that day. When he discovered the woman he betrayed was already beyond his reach. That was when he lost everything. He gave up his position. Walked away from his inheritance. Turned his back on a throne men would kill for— all to cross an ocean he was never allowed to enter.

After a night of intoxication, I found myself in the arms of Lucas Holmes, who later became my husband. Regardless of the insults and mistreatment from my family and me, he remained unruffled, displaying a calm and virtuous demeanor. However, as I started to develop feelings for him, he unexpectedly suggested a divorce. The once gentle and virtuous man underwent a remarkable transformation. In a sudden twist of fate, my family faced hardships, while he prospered. The virtuous husband I had once underestimated had now become my financial supporter.

I always thought if I just held on a little longer, I could still keep this family together. But my mate Ethan and my brother William poured all their favoritism onto Ava and her mother, and left me nothing but coldness and humiliation. They could even look me in the eye and say, “She’s your sister too,” like that was enough to make me bless them. That night, I did something so insane it bordered on self-destruction: I dragged my suitcase out the door and let the house that held all my memories get swallowed by flames. The news exploded, our villa became ruins. The security footage showed “no one leaves,” and the police made a preliminary judgment that the person inside was “highly likely deceased.” Ethan didn’t believe it. Not until he and William were handed that bag of belongings at the police station, a diamond, a Blood Moonstone, the things I treasured most, did they finally understand: I wasn’t throwing a tantrum. I was really, truly done with them. Too bad. It was already too late.

Evan Peretti and I had been together for five years, but he left me at the altar on the day we were supposed to get married and publicly announced that my bestie, Yvonne Quinto, was his true love. As I was about to become the laughingstock of the day, the heir and Don of the Linaris, Chris Linari, walked up the altar to profess his love for me. He claimed to have fallen in love with me at first sight when he first laid eyes on me years ago. I married Chris, and he showered me with love after we got married. Everyone was envious of the love we shared, and even the media would publicize our love story in high profile. However, I learned the truth when I found thousands of Yvonne's photos on his computer. His so-called love was a tactic he used to hold me back from destroying Yvonne's happiness. I thought I was saved by love when he saved me from that embarrassing situation back then, but it was just a deception in the name of love. For the past five years, he had me tied up in a web of lies he had woven by carefully creating an illusion of happiness. I decided to contact a private workshop that specialized in customizing and planning my 'disappearance'. I would fall into the sea three days later on our wedding anniversary, and my body would never be found. Chris Linari, we would never meet again.

In the fifth year of loving Gabriel, he inherited his late brother’s title as Vampire Lord— along with his brother’s widow, Chloe, the former Blood Queen, and, by blood and law, my kin-by-covenant. Every time he returned from her chambers, Gabriel would hold me gently and whisper, “Isabella, Chloe is only my Chosen Consort. Once she carries and delivers the Scion of the Blazetooth Coven, I will bind myself to you through a Blood Bond.” He said it was the only condition his family demanded for him to ascend as Vampire Lord. During the six months after we returned to Blazetooth Coven, he answer her summons a hundred times. At first, once a month. Then once a week. And eventually, every single night. On the hundredth night I stayed awake waiting for him, Chloe finally conceived. The news arrived together with another announcement— Gabriel and Chloe would soon be bound by Blood. My son looked up at me, confused and innocent. “Mom… didn’t they say Dad would form a Blood Bond with the Blood Queen he loves? Why hasn’t he come to take us home yet?” “Because,” I said softly, brushing my hand through his hair, “the Blood Queen he loves was never your mother.” “But that’s all right,” I added. “I’ll take you home. Our own home.” What Gabriel never realized was this— as the only daughter of a reigning Vampire King, I had never cared for the title of Blood Queen of Blazetooth Coven at all.

In the third year of being locked up in a psychiatric hospital by Jonathan Fowler, I had already lost all of my vibrance and vitality. During a particularly harsh winter, Jonathan's new girlfriend, Charlotte Stewart, visits me in the hospital. She caresses my sunken cheek lovingly with one hand. "You must be Jon's legally-wedded wife, right?" I just stare at her in alert without saying anything. The next thing I know, Charlotte shoves me down the stairs. Her expression is already twisted into one of malice. "Everyone tells me that I'll get to marry Jonathan once you're dead, so just hurry up and die already!" I don't have any energy to fight back. After crashing onto the floor, I'm left bleeding and broken. After struggling in the operating theater for one full day, I managed to survive the ordeal. With red-rimmed eyes, Jonathan rushes into the ward and grasps my hand. "Mallory, I promise that if you agree to stay alive and not pin the crime of manslaughter on Charlotte, I can let bygones be bygones! In fact, I won't disturb you anymore for the rest of your life!" I don't have the strength to respond to Jonathan. That's when the System, which has stayed silent for a very long time, suddenly speaks in my mind. [Congratulations. You've maxed out the male lead's guilt. You may now leave this world.] I secretly let out a sigh of relief. Finally, I can go home.

“One day earlier or later—what’s the difference?” Henry asked calmly. It was my thirtieth birthday. The deadline of the promise he made beside my dying mother’s bed. But that day, he needed to take his pregnant sister-in-law to her prenatal appointment. “She’s carrying my late brother’s only child,” he said. “Why are you fighting her for this?” I wasn’t fighting for a date. I was fighting for the last shred of dignity in a fifteen-year love. The girl who once meant everything to him Had slowly become the unreasonable one. The sister-in-law who used to disgust him Had somehow become the one he needed to protect. So I smiled and said, “Fine.” And I left. Three days later, I turned thirty without him. That was the day Henry Jones began to regret it. Because soon he would learn— The baby wasn’t his brother’s. The betrayal didn’t start with me. And the woman he chose to hurt… was the only one who ever stood by him. But by then—I was already gone. And this time,He would be the one begging.

After I was abducted by human traffickers, fate led me into the care of a young man.He sacrificed his spot at Harvard University to provide for my education.For my sake, he committed a grave act that landed him behind bars. Once he reunited me with my family, he willingly stepped out of my life. In that tumultuous year, I scoured the world in search of him, nearly driven to madness.When I finally found him, he ignored and pushed me away. In disappointment, I departed, only to stumble upon a surprising revelation -The very person who always claimed I was a burden had secretly kept the hair tie I lost when I was sixteen for many years.

After coming home from buying fresh produce at the farmer's market, I began prepping the ingredients and making lunch. As soon as I was done with my tasks, my husband, Jeremy Tate, came home. "A pipe in Chloe's home has burst. Hurry up and help her out. It's difficult enough for a single mother like her to handle such problems." I took off my apron and went to Chloe's place to unclog her pipes. Then, I mopped up the stagnant water before proceeding to comfort her frightened child. Once I finally dragged my exhausted body home, I saw Jeremy handing over my daughter's sweater to Chloe. "Don't stress yourself out, Chloe. It's not like Eliza can still wear this anyway. This sweater is perfect for Lily." As I stared at the sweater, I suddenly spoke up. "Let's get a divorce, Jeremy." He looked at me in disbelief. "You want a divorce over an old sweater?" "Yeah. Precisely."

A month before I was set to present my life’s work—the Moonlight Therapy—Marcus, my Alpha and fiancé of five years, asked me to give the entire research project to his old flame, Isabella. I refused. He spent the entire month trying to convince me, insisting he was only fulfilling her dying wish. Then, two weeks before the presentation, a link from a friend arrived. That’s when I discovered Isabella was already promoting my research online as her own. He had never intended to ask for my permission at all. In that instant, I chose to sever our five-year bond. What Marcus didn’t know was that the core research he’d stolen was critically flawed. On the very day Isabella presented that faulty data to the world, I walked through the doors of the Boston Werewolf Medical Institute instead. I never looked back.