Blaming Myself Novels & Stories

My fiancé was the CEO of a powerful financial conglomerate, and to the outside world, he adored me beyond measure. A week before our wedding, I found out I was pregnant with triplets. I had planned to tell him the joyful news in person. But instead, I witnessed him in bed with other women. Not with just one. It felt like a knife had carved into my soul, cutting so deep I lost all hope, all trust. My tears begged for release, but I held my head high, forcing myself to stay strong. For him, I had given up everything—my pride, my family, my career. Yet he chose to share our love with others. All those vows to love me and only me for a lifetime had been lies. Our so-called future, our wedding—it was all a cruel joke. He was no longer the man I once loved. He had become tainted. I would not endure his betrayal. He no longer deserved to be the father of my children. So I made my decision—to disappear, to fake my death and start over, to give myself and my babies a chance at a free, unburdened life. But I never imagined he'd become obsessed and start searching the world for women who resembled me, all while declaring I was the only one he ever loved. Too little, too late. His affection now is worth nothing. This time, I'm not looking back.

I stared at the Vercetti marriage contract my father pushed across the table. Without hesitation, I wrote my half-sister’s name, Demi, and slid it back. My father froze. Then his eyes lit up with ridiculous excitement, like he’d just won the lottery. "How can you give such a perfect chance to your sister?" Last life, my marriage was a joke for everyone around me. I was the red-haired, untamed little witch who dared to climb into the orbit of Cassian Vercetti, heir and leader of the old-blood Vercetti crime family. I was never perfect nor obedient. He loved goddess gowns. I wore mini skirts and danced on tables. He demanded missionary, traditional, orderly intimacy. I wanted to climb on top, ride him, lose myself completely. At a gala, society wives laughing at my hair, my dress, my “wildness.” I thought he would at least pretend to defend me. He didn’t. “Forgive her. She’s not…properly trained.” Trained. Like a dog. I spent my entire last life suffocating under his rules, bending myself bloody to fit the shape he wanted, until the night our house caught fire. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment I learned of the arranged marriage. I looked at the contract in front of me. This time? I think the nightclub boys suits me better. But the moment Cassian realized the bride wasn’t me, he shattered every rule he’d ever lived by.

The day I learned the family's secretary had been Richard's mistress for three years, I called off the wedding without a second thought. Heartsick, I took a family flight and moved out to the West Coast, only to walked straight into an ambush. When they had me surrounded, Richard appeared out of nowhere and threw himself in front of the bullet meant for me. He ordered his most trusted guards to keep me alive, whatever it cost. Dying, he stared deep into my eyes. "Elise, I have no right to ask your forgiveness. Just live. Live well, and let me love you properly in the next." The sea ran high and wild that day, and they never found his body. By the time the rescue boat pulled me out of the water, I had already cried myself hoarse. After that I lived to eighty, carrying the guilt of him every single day. Then I opened my eyes again and found myself back, before he had ever betrayed me. This time, before I could even speak, he fired Charlotte right in front of me. Apart from family business, his greatest interest was cooking dinner for me. Everyone marveled at it. The Don himself, Richard, loved Elise nearly to the point of madness. And then, the night before our wedding, I heard his thoughts. [I'm finally about to have Elise.] [This time I can't let her find out Charlotte exists.]

I opened my eyes and found myself back at the matchmaking event again. Grandpa pointed at seven jacked jocks and said, "Pick one. They've all been trained." Remembering how they had shared and humiliated me to death in my past life, I threw up on the spot. This time, I pointed at Grandpa's sworn enemy instead. "I want to marry that terminally ill guy who can't have children." Later, that powerful man wrapped an arm around my pregnant belly, while we watched them all go to prison with that spiteful woman.

"So deal, okay?""What about?""If you kill yourself, I'll kill myself too.""Alright. But if you kill yourself, then I'll kill myself.""Okay."Audrey Simmons is suicidal.Cayden Nowell is too.But when they were about to kill themselves, they met each other on the same rooftop.And so, they made a pact. A suicide pact.This is a story about a boy and a girl who tries too hard to fit into their group of friends but constantly failed.And when they found each other, they finally find a place they can fit into.The only mistake they made was that they broke themselves trying to fix each other.

⚠ Content Warning: Dubious consent, forbidden romance, infidelity, emotional manipulation, and morally gray relationships. My sister finally married the man I've been dreaming about for months. Erotic, shameless, vivid dreams I would take to my grave. But then after my sister went away for a week, leaving me alone with her husband, these dreams feel even more real every passing day, and it feels like Adrian has me wrapped around his finger. I keep telling myself it's just a dream, and Adrian lets me keep believing it is.

He was never supposed to be in the picture, I was supposed to live happily with my boyfriend, but he came out of nowhere. My body reacted so much to him. I touched myself thinking about him, but he never looked at me, not even once… **** Valeria had been with her boyfriend for years, and it was finally the day of their marriage. She was over the edge, but when she got to the altar, her boyfriend wasn't there. It was his sexy brother she had always fantasised about countless times, standing there. Will she marry him or call off the wedding? Dive into this book to find out.

I know it’s wrong to want my dad’s best friend, a man who was old enough to be my dad, but what could I possibly do when I see him in my dream and imagination each time I close my eyes? What could I do when this desire keeps driving me nuts, when I keep getting wet down there just at the sight of him? I tasted the forbidden fruit, and I liked it. I liked every inch of it, and now I can’t bring myself to stop wanting more…

On a packed bus heading toward a college, bodies were pressed together so tightly it was hard to move. I deliberately leaned against a delicate, sweet-looking freshman. She was wearing a short plaid skirt. I hitched the fabric up and pressed myself against her curvy hip. What caught me off guard was her underwear. There was a small hole worn into the fabric, as if she were already overcome. Just as I was about to lose control, I pulled back at the last second. However, she held me there tightly and said, “Mister, don’t stop. Keep going.”

I met a boy when he was eight years old. I never believed that the boy with the incredible blue eyes would be my future husband. We grew up and promised to have a life together, which happened. There was nothing to predict that something terrible would happen on my wedding day. Heartbroken, I now find myself at a crossroads. Should I continue with the wedding, respecting our prenuptial agreement? Should I leave him at the altar for having damaged our bond and trust as a couple? And what’s worse. Should I escape from him with a secret that will bind us together for life?