Sweethearts Theme Novels & Stories

I, Cassidy Stanford, am on a graduation trip with my childhood best friend, Randell Lautner. Just as we plan to return home, he suddenly extends my hotel stay for another week. When I want to ask him why, a barrage of comments suddenly appears before my eyes. "Run, Randy! Don't let Cassidy stop you anymore! Don't you know that Evie did poorly in her exams, and she's about to be married off to a random bald guy by her own parents? Run! It's urgent! Go save her now!" "That's right! If it weren't for that wicked woman using her childhood friendship bond to manipulate Randy the whole time, Randy and Evie would have been together a long time ago! Cassidy is such a horrible person!" "In the original story, Cassidy cried and threw a huge fuss after finding out that Randy was leaving her. She even threatened suicide to make him stay with her, which ultimately caused poor Evie to be forced into marrying Baldy! And Randy hated her so much after that he began getting revenge on her! "Hah, just wait and see, Cassidy! She will soon get what she deserves! Randy will eventually torture her until she turns into a madwoman! It's going to be so satisfying!" "That's a pity, though. I know that we're just following the script here and that Randy eventually has his revenge, but I really, really hate the evil side character so much! Cassidy was the one who ruined Evie's life! Who does she think she is?" Me? The evil side character? While I am still confused by everything, I suddenly receive a text message from Randell. "Cassie, I have an urgent matter, and I need to leave first. But don't worry. I've already extended your hotel stay for another week. "Behave yourself and don't kick up a fuss with me." What?

It's our third wedding anniversary. On this day, Zoey Hayes, who has had a crush on my husband for three years, flaunts their love on her social media.

My childhood sweetheart and I are about to exchange rings at our wedding ceremony. Just then, a young woman charges into his arms and says pitifully, "Don't abandon me." My childhood sweetheart brought her home when he was in high school after chancing upon her by the roadside. Everyone knows how doting he is toward her. When she charges into his arms, she "accidentally" shoves me aside. I lose my balance and fall off the stage, knocking my head on the steps. I end up in a coma. When I wake up again, I'm taken back to the day my childhood sweetheart meets the young woman.

On the day we reported for the new semester, my girlfriend had just been admitted to one of the country's top universities. That morning, she suddenly told me she had chosen the wrong major and wanted to take a year off to retake the entrance exam. I knew exactly why. It was for her childhood friend, the one who had not made it. Her parents begged me to talk her out of it. After a night of painful deliberation, she appeared downstairs at my dorm and said, "I've made up my mind. I won't retake the exam. Let's stay together and make this work." However, during the freshman welcome event, just as her name was being called, her phone lit up. A message from him. [My prep class started today. My deskmate isn't you anymore. It feels so strange.] She went completely still. I tightened my grip on her hand and warned her quietly, "If you leave now, we're finished. Forever." She whispered an apology, dragged her suitcase behind her, and walked out of the campus.

I was the top bounty thief in the organization. The best they had. After turning in my final score, I announced on the spot that I was done for good. Then, I stood in my studio, blending paint. A single photograph was pinned to the wall before me. Black Viper filled the doorway, the light behind him casting his face in shadow. "What's it like," he asked quietly, "pretending to be an artist?" He stepped further inside. "Does paint smell better than blood?" I placed the palette knife down and wiped my hands slowly. "I'm done. I walked away." "Old Fox didn't approve of it." "That's not my concern." Black Viper crossed the room and tapped the old photograph on the wall. "Are you certain?" I did not want to look. I told myself not to. However, my gaze shifted anyway. A young boy stared back from the photo. "The blind kid?" I had spent ten years searching for him. "Where is he?" I moved toward the wall, reaching to rip the picture down. "One last job," Black Viper said, pressing his palm against the photo. My hand stopped in midair. "What's the target?" "The final lot at next month's auction that the Gilbert Group will be holding. "It's called Mermaid's Tear."

Alice Clearwater has died once. When she did, it was on a cot in the Moonshadow pack's infirmary. She remembered hearing her daughter, Aliya Steelclaw, laughing coldly by her ear. That laughter was mixed with Anna Darkfur's string of vile curses as well. Before Alice died, she finally realized that her perfect mate of 50 years, Alexander Steelclaw, never ever loved her.

My family has this outdated tradition. On my twenty-second birthday, whoever gets my heirloom bracelet first becomes my wife. For the past eighteen years, my childhood sweetheart, Madison Young, teased that she’d be the one to claim them. However, when I opened the box, the beads snapped and spilled across the floor, right in front of a blind girl passing by, Grace Bellamy. She bent down and picked them up. Madison made a scene, urging me to marry her instead, just to please my father’s illegitimate son, Connor Vaughn. Watching Grace stand there, flustered and surrounded, I stepped forward, shielding her with my body. "Fine," I said. "I’ll marry her."

The day I dissolved the mate bond, I called my childhood friend to pick me up. I had a bank card with barely any balance left, my phone, and the same clothes I had worn the day I moved into this house. That was everything I owned after all those years living in the pack. My mate, Derek Anderson, called to say I had left a few things behind. "Forget it. Just throw them away." He seemed reluctant to give up. "Your son keeps saying he wants to see you." I dragged my suitcase behind me and walked away without looking back. "Tell him he'll have a new mom soon. The one he's always wanted." Like father, like son. They even fell for the same woman. In the past, I would have asked myself, 'Why won't they even look at me? I've given them so much.' Now, I felt nothing. If they didn't love me, then so be it. I would let them go and let myself go in the process too. My childhood best friend, Eric Keaton, helped me with my luggage and opened the door of his Maybach. I said one last thing to my mate. "I won't ever disturb you and your son again." After a long time, he found me. He grabbed my arm like a madman and stared at me in despair. "Leah Sullivan, why don't you care about us anymore?"

My husband is known as a ruthless CEO, but somehow, he is tender and warm with me. I'm passionate about art restoration, especially antique paintings, so he transforms his private collection room into a professional-grade studio just for me. He even brings in top experts to mentor me. Once, I spent three sleepless nights restoring a rare 12th-century painting. He ends up buying the entire museum that the painting belongs to, just so I can study it without restrictions. To marry me, he goes head-to-head with his powerful family, even stages a hunger strike, until they finally give in. At our engagement party, he gets down on one knee in front of everyone and says, "Ash, you deserve nothing but the best in this world." The ring he designs himself has an engraving on the inside that says, "Art brought us together, love holds us forever." Everyone says Vincent Hawthorn loves me like a maniac, and I believe it—until I restore one of his late mother's paintings…

News of my groom's death arrived, but I shed no tears. Instead, I quickly reclaimed his shares and had his death officially recorded. Why? I was reborn. In my previous life, my family had adopted three boys to accompany me since childhood, all of whom were potential candidates to be my husband. As the heiress of the wealthiest family in the country, my father feared I wouldn't be happy marrying someone else we weren't familiar with. I chose Jayden, the most capable of the three brothers—but just three days after the wedding, he passed away. In my grief, I gave up on remarriage. With Jesse and Joel's persuasion, I lived the rest of my life as a widow. Upon reaching eighty, I went to Massalia, where we once pledged our love. There, I encountered Jayden…who had supposedly died sixty years ago! He was living with my maid, who had gone missing decades ago, surrounded by children and grandchildren, living a happy and contented life. When I realized I had been deceived my whole life, I was so enraged that my vision suddenly darkened. I died of a brain hemorrhage on the spot. When I awoke, I had returned to the day the news of his death had arrived. Let's see how a man who should have died intended to continue living!