Dear Beloved Lyrics Novels & Stories

The impoverished student I had sponsored, Jacob Murphy, had accumulated a massive gambling debt. When the debt collectors had kicked the door open, my childhood sweetheart, Renee Austin, had shoved me forward instead. Her voice was cold and distant. “He’s Jacob Murphy. Take him away.” In the darkness of an underground casino, they tore out my fingernails, then smashed my ribs one by one with an iron rod. When the searing pain arrived, I groveled on the floor like a dog. I was weeping and screaming, without a shred of dignity. Then, they “mercifully” gave me one chance to call for help. Clinging to the last sliver of hope, I called Renee. Her voice on the other end sounded very cruel. “If you hadn’t set him up, how would Jacob have ended up buried in gambling debt? Even if you die at their hands, you deserve it.” The dial tone after she hung up became the last sound in my world. Later, I really did die, just as she had said. However, there was not the slightest trace of a smile on Renee’s face. It was as if she had gone mad. Her eyes were bloodshot as she searched every underground gambling den in the city. ‘Renee, why were you crying for me?’ I wondered.

I had a perception disorder that messed with how I saw and felt stuff. So when I got dropped into a horror game, everyone else freaked out trying to survive— Me? I thought I was in a dating sim. I raised a young fae like she was my kid, fell for the vampire count, and treated the undead like my in-laws. The first time I saw the vampire—face torn up, soaked in blood—I straight-up blushed. "You're really handsome." He froze. Then, low and uncertain: "Am I... really handsome?"

At the engagement banquet, Monique Walton is in the middle of telling all the guests and the viewers of the livestream that's taking place about our tale of romance. What she doesn't know is that I have already swapped out the romantic video of our sweet memories for the racy clip of her and Terry Caldwell going at it like rabbits. When the clip is presented on the monitor, everyone falls silent immediately. That's when the live comments on the livestream instantly overwhelm the comment section. Monique turns around in a fluster, the well-maintained smile on her face starting to crack bit by bit. She stumbles toward the control panel, accidentally knocking over the champagne tower in her haste. Amid the chaos, I draw to my feet and walk onto the stage. Then, I pick up the microphone Monique has just dropped. "Everyone, this engagement banquet is officially canceled. From now on, Monique Walton and I are no longer affiliated with each other."

As I walk out of the emergency room, a woman rushes over to me. "You're a doctor, right? My son scraped his knee. Hurry up and come treat him!" I am about to explain, but she glares at me and questions indignantly, "Isn't a doctor supposed to save people? You have time to slack off, but you have no time to treat my son's wound. Is that it?" She grabs my collar and drags me toward the ward. I try to explain, "Ma'am, I’m not—" But she doesn't listen at all and slaps me across the face. "Not what? Are you blind? Can't you see my son is bleeding? Instead of helping my son, you treat those poor nobodies! If you keep delaying my son's treatment, I won't let you off! "Get on your knees and apologize to him right now! Otherwise, I'll file a complaint and have your license revoked!" I endure the sharp pain and struggle to lift my head. In my five years of practicing medicine, this is the first time I have ever been complained about by a living person. "It's not that I won't treat him. I am a forensic pathologist..."

The three of us got dragged into a horror game. My handsome CEO husband, Adrian Chase, tore through dungeon after dungeon and shot straight into the top four on the player leaderboard. Then we entered an SSS-level dungeon, and he and our son decided I was deadweight. They left me behind in a monster-filled zone. The chat instantly blew up: [Adrian Chase is so hot! He should've dumped that deadweight forever ago!] [Theo's only ten and already this strong? Total mini-Adrian.] [Adrian and the number two player, Mollie, are perfect together. I ship them so hard!] I was crouched in a pool of blood, zoning out, when a shadow dropped over me. The stream chat lost it: [Holy crap! That's the SSS-level BOSS!] [Did she freeze up?! Run!] I looked back— The boss who had the entire server terrified dropped to one knee without hesitation, silver hair spilling across my lap. "Master, you haven't spent time with me in three days..." I shoved his stupidly handsome face away. "Not now. I'm busy." Viewer chat: [Wait, WHAT did we just hear?!]

I was diagnosed with kidney disease. My wife, Serene Warner, an heiress from high society, broke down in tears from worry. She did everything she could to find a donor for me. However, just as the doctor handed her the consent form, she hesitated. "Keith's treatment can't be delayed any longer. This donor kidney is compatible with him too. Can you find another matching kidney?" she asked. With a troubled look on his face, the doctor replied, "Ms. Warner, that would be rather hard. Perhaps…" Before he could finish, her daughter spoke up and decided my fate. "Of course, the kidney is going to Keith. Dad is old and a nag. He doesn't even look like me. I don't want it to go to him." Serene gently smacked Tina on the back of her head, but what she said next was just as chilling. "Joseph, Keith studied abroad. He'll contribute a lot to the Warners and this society…" Without saying a word, I looked down at my wedding ring. My heart had grown numb long ago. That was because I had already gone through this. In my last life, this was when I shouted at her, despite having always been a gentle soul. "What about all the sacrifices I made to take care of you two in the past eight years? I'm clearly ahead of him in the list. It should be mine! Why him?" But without question, a poor teacher like me stood no chance against the rich and powerful. In the end, out of guilt, Serene stayed by my side day and night. She reminisced with me about the past, but not even she realized that the memories she spoke of did not belong to us. I slowly faded away. This time, I would not fight her. I would not trouble her anymore. "Alright."

My girlfriend is the true heiress of a wealthy family, yet she suffers from severe paranoia. She's convinced that everyone is out to exploit her. She never believed in my love. In her eyes, I stayed with her only for status and money. To prove my sincerity, during our seven years together, I never spent a single cent of hers. I handed over every paycheck I earned. As for myself, I couldn't even afford a few dollars for a taxi. Every day, I walked five kilometers to work. Then one day, my mother was in a sudden car accident. The doctor called and told me to come see her for the last time. The hospital was thirty kilometers away. There was no way I could make it on foot in time. Left with no choice, I asked my girlfriend to transfer me thirty dollars for a taxi. She flew into a rage. "Simon, thirty dollars is your entire monthly living expense. How dare you ask me for that much all at once? I almost believed your feelings were genuine. But now I see—you're no different from those gold-diggers!" In the end, I never made it to see my mother one last time. When I returned home in a daze, I found my girlfriend throwing a birthday party for her childhood sweetheart. He was wearing the latest luxury watch, his face full of smug pride. "This is the one you bought at an overseas auction, right? Worth thirty million," he said. "You wouldn't even give Simon thirty dollars for a taxi. You're really generous with me." My girlfriend smiled indulgently. "It's only thirty million. It's not like I can't afford it. "Besides, how could Simon ever compare to you? Today, he dares to ask me for thirty. Tomorrow, he'll dare to ask me for thirty thousand. "I've always known it. He's been with me just to take my money." I stood there, frozen, my heart sinking into the abyss. 'It's fine. I don't want her money anymore. And I don't want her, either.'

When the star pirate, Black Mamba demanded one of us give birth to his child, my older sister didn't hesitate to sacrifice me. I never imagined that after my cruel death and eventual rebirth, she would throw herself into his clutches instead. When I saw that terrible serpentine swelling once more, horrifying memories sent shivers through my body. All I wanted to do was run. But my sister grabbed me by the jaw. "You've been reborn too! I'm going to make you suffer!" I could tell she meant it.

My future mother-in-law, Diane Grant, loved setting rules. On the day I proposed, she sat there with that smug, superior look and told me if I wanted to marry her daughter, Olivia Grant, I had to pass her so-called "son-in-law training", which was three months working as a food delivery driver. She said she wanted to test whether I could handle hardship. For my fiancee's sake, I kept my identity hidden. I was the heir to one of the most powerful families in Crestfall City, and I agreed without hesitation. For three months, I shed every trace of privilege. I worked from dawn to night, delivering orders across the city. My parents didn’t understand. My friends disapproved. Mrs. Grant watched me like a hawk, picking me apart every single day. "Three minutes late? That’s a $3,000 penalty. The wedding shall be delayed by a month!" "Wrong unit delivery, bad review? $8,000 penalty. You don’t get to see Olivia this week!" Even then, I never gave up. Until the final day. I received an urgent order with a massive tip. The note was in bold: "Lifesaving medication. Immediate delivery." I sped through the streets, pushing myself to the limit. Just as I was about to enter the residential compound, Mrs. Grant stepped in front of me, blocking my way, her face full of disdain. Her voice shot up sharply. "The wedding gift goes up to $200,000. Not a cent less." I looked at her look of absolute certainty and suddenly laughed. My finger slid across the screen. The recipient of that urgent order was her precious son, Christopher Grant. I slowly put away the unlimited card in my pocket, along with the check I had prepared for a million-dollar wedding gift. Originally, I had planned to reveal my identity that day to give her the surprise of a lifetime. It seemed there was no need.

I loved Spencer. Even though I knew he only saw Fiona when he looked at me. I clung to the wedding dress he picked out himself, holding onto the dream of a future that felt so close. But on our wedding day, she came back. In front of everyone, he has my dress ripped apart—for her. Now, he knelt before my grave, begging for forgiveness. But all I could think was, even here, he was ruining my peace.