Melodramatic Music Store

My mother-in-law spreads lies about me having contracted an STD during my sister-in-law's wedding. When I hear this, I want to demand an explanation. However, my sister-in-law stops me and begs me to prioritize her happiness since it's her wedding. I hold myself back and wait until the reception is over. Later, my mother-in-law merely sweeps the matter under the rug and say she doesn't remember anything because she was drunk. However, the lies spread like wildfire. My neighbors scorn me, and my colleagues isolate me, treating me like a walking bacteria. I become dispirited from the constant mental distress and end up getting knocked by a car when I leave the house one day. I die from the accident. When I open my eyes again, I'm taken back to the day my mother-in-law lies about me having contracted an STD.

On my way to the bank, I stumbled across a post: [What's the most shameful thing you've done behind your partner's back?] One comment stood out: [I secretly married my first love, and my girlfriend keeps dumping money into our joint account like an idiot. She actually thinks I'm saving for a house. There's already sixty-seven grand in there. Once she hits eighty, I'm taking it all!] The flood of likes made my stomach twist. I pulled up my account balance. Sixty-seven grand. Not a penny more, not a penny less. So, my boyfriend secretly married his ex.

My boyfriend passed away from illness. Before he died, he asked me to look after his only younger brother—Callum Ressler. I put Callum through college, and helped him build his company from the ground up. Then one night, after a round of drinking at some work function, he ended up in bed with me. While I wrestled with what we were to each other, I noticed something on his office desk: a photo of me, framed neatly beside an engagement ring. My heart stirred. I pushed open the lounge door, ready to finally talk about us. But just as the door creaked open, a white camisole fell at my feet. I froze. Callum pulled the covers tightly around a shocked female assistant. "Diana, ever heard of knocking?" he snapped. Face pale, limbs suddenly uncoordinated, I started backing out. But the assistant's timid voice stopped me. "Diana… could you hand me my clothes?" I ignored the hostility behind her eyes, grabbed the garment, tossed it onto the bed, and left in a hurry. Once I stepped outside the company building, Callum called. "Diana, you should really stop barging into my room like that." I laughed and agreed. From that moment on, I never stepped into his world again.

Walter planned sixty-six proposal trips just to win me over. On the sixty-seventh, I finally said yes. The day after our wedding, I gave him sixty-six "forgiveness cards." We made a deal: every time he upset me, he could use one to earn my forgiveness. Over six years of marriage, every time he made me angry because of his childhood friend Janet, Walter would hand me a card. By the time he used the sixty-fourth, he began to sense something was off. I no longer reminded him to keep his distance. I no longer needed him the way I used to. However, the last time he left me behind for Janet, I reached out, stopped him, and asked: "If you go to her again… can I still forgive you with one of these cards?" He paused mid-step and looked at me, half helpless, half amused. "If you want to use one, use it. You've got plenty left, don't you?" I gave a small nod and watched him walk away. He still thought those forgiveness cards would never run out. What he did not know was— There was only one left.

I was supposed to marry Marco DeLuca, the man of my dreams, in just three days. He was the mafia don of the South—dangerous, ruthless, the kind of man everyone warned you about. And I came from the Moretti family, just as powerful, a dominant force in the North. But just when I thought I had it all, fate had other plans. What was supposed to be a simple drug deal negotiation—one Marco had asked me to cover—quickly spiraled into a gunfight. In the chaos, a bullet tore through my chest. Marco made sure everyone in that room paid for my accident, but no matter what he did, it didn’t change the fact that I was lying here, wondering if my life would ever be the same. And it only got worse. In the haze between consciousness and dreams, I overheard Marco speaking with his family doctor. “After removing the bullet from Miss Moretti’s chest, we found fragments near her heart,” Dr. Levois said. “She may need another surgery.” “There’s no need for another surgery. As long as she can breathe, I’ll take care of her for the rest of her life. But if you treat her now, she’ll wake up and ruin everything I’ve planned.” Marco’s words hit me hard. “And I promised Camilla I would bring our daughter, Violetta, into the family,” he continued. “It’s better this way. Gianna won’t be a threat to her then.” So the wedding I’d longed for, the love I once believed in, was nothing but a cruel illusion. What Marco wanted, what I thought was mine, had twisted into my worst nightmare. If this was what Marco truly wanted… so be it. It wasn’t like I cared anymore.

In New York’s Upper East Side, there were two heirs. One was a speed-obsessed daredevil dominating the racetracks, the other was a brilliant actuary who controlled the flow of capital. Born into powerful families and polar opposites in temperament, yet they grew up side by side as each other’s only best friend. They had fought over girls and bickered endlessly over racing bets. However, at fifteen, there was one thing they did in perfect unison. They each put on the same roughly carved bronze badge. They were trinkets Mia had idly made during a craft class, marked only by a faint “M” scratched on the back. Back then, Mia was seated in the last row of the classroom. Her background was a complete mystery to everyone. Yet they wore that badge for ten whole years. Whether standing on the F1 podium or locking in billion-dollar trades at the exchange, the cheap little badge on their chests never changed. Until Ella showed up. She was the cherished daughter of a rising conglomerate family. She hand-stitched two gold-thread fabric patches and gifted them to them. The patches looked so ordinary they looked like the kind of trinket you would find three for a dollar at a flea market. And yet, they both replaced their bronze badges with her plain patches. Mia did not say anything. She simply folded away an old newspaper clipping with a photo of the three of them smiling together. That night, she called her father in Sicily. Her voice was emotionless. “Papa, I accept the marriage arrangement.”

It had been five years since I started dating Ross Jenner. His family invited my mother and me to their family home in Fellaton to discuss our wedding plans and to spend Valentine's Day together. It was past 10:00 PM when my mother and I landed, but Ross wasn't there to pick us up because his college junior, Laurel Elledge, had just arrived in Fellaton. He told me to figure out a way to get a cab to the house myself. In a strange place, unfamiliar with the area, it wasn't long before we found ourselves in danger. Just over ten minutes outside the airport, we were robbed. My mother was injured while trying to protect me, and she collapsed, bleeding heavily. Desperate, I held onto her, frantically trying to call Ross. Each call was abruptly cut off, and when I finally reached him, he sounded irritated. "Jennifer, you're an adult, so stop acting like a child. You couldn't even hail a cab on the street? Laurel just got to Fellaton and isn't feeling well. I need to take care of her." Without waiting for a response, he hung up. I tried calling again, only to find that I had been blocked. In the end, my mother's injuries were too severe, and she bled out before the doctors could save her. As I stared at her lifeless body, tears flowed uncontrollably. When I finally checked my phone again, the first thing I saw was a picture Ross had posted on Twitter. In the photo, he was kissing Laurel and holding a bouquet of roses. [Spending Valentine's Day with the one I love most.] I quietly threw the gifts I had brought from home into the trash. Then, I left a comment, which said, [Wishing you both a lifetime of happiness.]

My fiancé leaves me jilted on our wedding day and marries my sister. As I stand there, feeling humiliated, William Sterling gets on one knee before me and asks me to marry him. Everyone in my city knows of him—he's an elite bachelor and every woman's dream. Yet now, he slips a wedding band onto my ring finger and confesses his love for me. "I've always loved you, and I thank the heavens for giving me the chance to spend my life with you." We get married, and he treats me well. Everyone knows that he won't fall for anyone other than me. Everything changes when I accidentally enter his studio in the seventh year of our marriage. I see that he's painted thousands of portraits of my sister, Ivy Winslow. Each one is a tender confession of his love for her. The man I love with all my heart earnestly prays to the heavens and utters his wish. He's willing to sacrifice anything for Ivy to be happy, including his life. It turns out what I thought was seven years of love was nothing but a lie. Ivy is the one he's loved all along. If that's the case, I'll back out. I'll leave in three days, and I hope he and Ivy can be happy together.

After my husband's death, I long for him so much that it becomes a mental condition. To put me out of my misery, my in-laws order a custom-made robot to be my companion. But I'm only more sorrowed when I see the robot's face—it's exactly like my late husband's. Everything changes when I accidentally unlock the robot's hidden functions. Late at night, 008 kneels before my bed and asks, "Do you need my third form of service, my mistress?"

The scent of pine and damp earth clung to the air as the full moon created long shadows across the Ancient Clearing. Tonight, was supposed to be our marking ceremony, a sacred ritual binding Alpha Anderson and his chosen Luna before the eyes of the Frostmoon Pack. “My heart,” his gaze locked on Leah, who stood under the moonlight “has always belonged to another. My first love, the one whose spirit has been weakened by the venom of wolfsbane, is my Luna.” He drew Leah closer, his hand possessively circling her waist. Under the watchful gaze of the moon, he smiled. “Our traditions are clear,” he continued, “Only the woman who stands with me at this altar, witnessed by all, shall be my Luna. Though I had always thought that Irene was my mate which I mistakenly marked a time ago. But thanks to the goddess for making me see clearly before it was too late.” They exchanged vows beneath the trees, witnessed by the werewolves and the Moon Goddess. The silver crowns were placed, the ceremonial kiss sealed their bond. I stood hidden in the shadows of the surrounding forest. For twelve years, from the moment my wolf recognized his at eighteen until my thirtieth moon cycle, my love for Anderson had never changed. But his heart, it was clear, belonged to Leah. If that was the truth, then I would release him. He had never truly seen me, never truly cared. Yet, the act of my departure seemed to unravel him in ways I couldn’t understand.