Pitiful Song Novels & Stories

After a monthlong cold war, Liesel Sharp is in the hospital when she receives word of her husband throwing a welcome-back party for his true love. When she returns home, Jacob Ford hands her a divorce agreement. "She's back, so let's divorce." "Alright." The past three years have been nothing but a farce. This time, Liesel is really out of hope for him. After the divorce, Jacob sees articles about Liesel everywhere. She's out and about with a new man; she's also a rising star in the business world. She's everywhere he looks. Finally, Jacob, who has always been arrogant and proud, gives in. "Have you had enough? It's time to come home with me. Please." Liesel acts like she doesn't hear him. Later, he resorts to hanging around outside her home day and night. This changes one day when the door opens, and a man looks at him with a mocking smile. "Lili's tired, Mr. Ford. She doesn't have time to enjoy your pitiful act."

On Christmas, the company handed out bonus envelopes, and I drew a 24-hour overtime voucher. Meanwhile, the boss took the female workers and my wife to a yacht party to celebrate. So, I calmly lit the Christmas tree and burned the company down. In my previous life, I worked overtime until I was completely exhausted. With a sharp pain in my chest, I called the boss to ask for leave. His tone was cold. “Everyone accepted their Christmas gift. Only you didn’t. “Get lost, then. You’re fired. Just a nobody at the bottom of society, anyway!” Through the phone, I heard my wife’s heavy breathing, one wave after another. “Thomas, ever since I got married, I’ve never had a good life. Today is truly amazing!” “Hahaha, Samantha, you’re really pitiful, married to such a poor loser.” Mocking laughter filled my ears. Rage consumed me, and I died at my desk. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on Christmas Day.

When Tristan Pierce falls in love with the 99th woman he's met online, I heave a mental sigh of relief. He gazes at me as he passes a divorce agreement to me. "Serena, I'm sorry for falling for someone else. She makes me feel something that you've never made me feel before." I just stare at him with teary eyes as I utter the same old words any phony will say. "I'm the one who failed to take care of you. I'll be fine as long as you're happy." Having noticed how pitiful I look, Tristan transfers 50 million dollars into my account at once. When I notice the automated text sent from my bank regarding the transaction that I've just received, I do my best to suppress my smile. After all, this is my 99th fake identity. The three-year contract that I've signed with Tristan's older brother, Graham Pierce, is coming to an end. Finally, my loveless relationship with Tristan shall come to an end.

Gael Greyson, the heir of a multibillion company died in an accident buy found himself wandering in the streets until he realized someone can see him. San, a pitiful doctor who was trying to live in the big city found the ghost of Gael who offer her money and I return she had to help him with few matters. San agreed to help the man and was found by the chairman of the company. She admitted to the man that she was Gael's girlfriend and their relationship was kept hidden for her safety. The old man brought her to a room where Gael was lying on the bed in a coma. He asked her to bear his grandson's child as there was no chance Gael could wake up. Now, she had to help the man who was in coma but only she can see him. Will she be able to help Gael and wake him up from coma? Will they find his killer? Why only she can see him? What if the man is not what she thinks he is? What if he is indeed a cruel underworld king who likes to rule? There are a lot of secrets but one thing is common and that is love.

She was just twenty two when her father's corpse was found in Fernandez Group where he worked as a personal assistant. Precisely in the office of Diego Fernandez. Nothing was done about it, no investigation was carried out on the suspicious death of her father. The whole issue was swept under the rug and a pitiful chunk of money was offered to them as a compensation. Ellie Connors was ready to do anything to find the cause of her father's death and to bring the culprit to book. She had hatched the idea of revenge for three years. There was literally no way she could go against such a rich and influential family considering her background. But there was a way, an only way, which was becoming a part of the Fernandez's family. Somehow, she got married to Diego, her worst enemy and the supposed 'killer'. Now to her revenge plan, do you think she will be able to succeed in it and find out what really happened to her father? What if there were more to his death than just the surface? Would it be just revenge or something else would spark between them?

Winter, 2025. Seattle is shrouded in the cold mist of its endless rainy season. For the sake of a single recommendation letter to Stanford, Catherine Hale—a destitute but proud art student—knocks on the doors of the Highlands Manor to return a restored Song Dynasty porcelain. She intends to leave as quickly as she came, but instead stumbles into the world of William Sterling, the young, enigmatic patriarch of an old and powerful family. Cold, noble, and unfathomable, William draws her into a game of testing and maneuvering that plays out in the cracks between social class and self-esteem. From their first meeting on a rainy night to a silent rescue amidst the vanity fair of high society, Catherine fights to escape a glittering vortex she doesn't belong to, only to find herself falling step by step into William's gentle trap, lingering with the scent of cold cedar. In this rain-soaked city, a forbidden attraction blooms across the divide, unaware that fate has already secretly marked the price of its gifts.

At my wedding, the giant screen that's supposed to show our photos suddenly switches to the groom's assistant's prenatal exam report. It clearly shows that he is the child's father. The assistant looks flustered and panicked as she rushes to apologize to me. The groom, on the other hand, stays perfectly calm and offers an explanation like it's no big deal. "I took pity on her because she got pregnant out of wedlock, so I went with her to the appointment and left my name. I'm going to be her kid's godfather, too." The day of her exam was also the day I went for my very first prenatal checkup. Everyone thinks I'll break down, but I simply reach up and tear off my veil. Then, I calmly schedule an abortion. "She really is pitiful, being pregnant without a partner by her side. She deserves this wedding more than I do." Then, I raise my champagne glass to congratulate him. "Congratulations to you both. May your shotgun wedding be a happy one, especially since it's happening with a bun in the oven."

After five years of marriage, my wife’s childhood friend posted a photo of a property deed in his social media circle with the caption, [Thank you, Miss CEO, for transferring the house to me.] I was stunned when I saw the address on the deed—it was my home. Confused, I left a comment. [?] Almost immediately, my wife, Alice, called and scolded me. "He’s a single dad, so pitiful! I only transferred the house to his name to make it easier for his daughter to attend school. It doesn’t affect us living there. How can you be so heartless and lack even a shred of compassion?" In the background, I could hear her childhood friend complaining bitterly. Half an hour later, he posted on social media again and tagged me. This time, he showed off a $150,000 sports car with the caption, [Paid in full! As the saying goes, where a woman spends her money is where her heart lies.] I knew it was my wife who bought him the car to make up for upsetting him. But this time, I’ve made up my mind—I’m filing for divorce.

I've dated Andrew Carter, my surgeon boyfriend, for seven years. We plan 66 weddings, and he cancels every single one for Selena Merrick. The first time, Selena botched a patient's injection. "Wait for me," he said, and I waited the entire day. The second time, she slipped and fell in the shower. We were just about to exchange rings, but he ditched me at the altar without a second thought, leaving me to face the ridicule from the guests. For all 65 weddings I held, Selena always found an excuse to lure Andrew away. At the 65th wedding, she claimed her dog was dying and threatened to take her life. My mom collapsed from stress-induced angina, yet Andrew still ran to Selena. Afterward, he kneels and begs us for forgiveness. "Selena is just a pitiful orphan, but you're the one I'll always love," he declares. I give him one last chance, yet he never fails to disappoint me. That is it. I break up with Andrew and join Doctors without Borders. Goodbye. Let's never meet again.

During the holiday, a hashtag related to honeymoon trips goes viral on social media. The topic is, "How are you planning to spend your honeymoon?" One of the threads that has the most replies reads, "I have to bring my mistress along, of course." "Wow! That's crazy. Can you teach us how to pull that off?" I frown as I scroll down the thread and find the reply. "There are a lot of poor, female backpackers these days. As long as the mistress acts pitiful enough, you can pull the wool over your wife's eyes. And just like that, a couple's haven will become a world of three. "My wife and I will be going on our honeymoon trip tomorrow. I'll give everyone live updates in this thread." Feeling disgusted, I close the thread. … The next day, my husband, Sean Clifford, and I meet a poor, female backpacker on the road. She has no car, money, or any suitcases with her. Sprawling herself across the windshield, she begs, "Can you give me a ride, sir? I have blisters all over my feet. I can't walk anymore."