Tragic Novels & Stories

At the Hunting Festival, Cynthia Whitefang flashes a stack of cash and demands that my mate, Simon Fenwick, become her bodyguard. "Just accept it, Layla." Simon flashes his fangs and tells Cynthia to get lost in a rude tone. Our son, Noah Fenwick, who's chronically poisoned by silver, waves his fists angrily as well to chase Cynthia away. But I just stare at the stack of cash quietly. Memories of a conversation I had overheard last week surge into my mind at that moment. That time, Noah was tugging at the hem of Simon's shirt while standing under a tree. "Daddy, can I keep pretending to be poisoned? That way, Mommy will keep giving me money to treat my poison. I wanna buy gifts for Cynthia!" he said coquettishly. Simon had replied dotingly, "Of course! But you must remember to never tell Mommy that I'm not hurt. Only when she's filled with guilt will she love us forever." It turns out that my husband is faking his injury, while my son is faking being poisoned. They've played me like a fiddle the whole time. I, on the other hand, have to risk my life time and again to earn money just to treat their imaginary illness and wounds. To think that all of my earnings are used on pleasing another she-wolf… I raise my head, soon meeting Cynthia's confident gaze. "Okay. You can have him."

When I was 18 years old, Luigi Conti, the craziest heir of the Conti family, pulled out a gun at an auction and executed the Don of the Serra family. That man happened to be my foster father, also the one who had me auctioned away as though I were a slave. When he was being dragged toward the armored car by the military police, he kept laughing like mad despite having blood streaking down his face. "Why must I atone for my sins? Since God refuses to save you, let me be your savior! From now on, no one in Sandalay has the guts to clip your wings anymore, my darling Isabella!" Seven years later, Luigi gets released from prison. He looks at me as I wash dishes for a living in the slums before snuffing out the cigar trapped between his fingers. That night, Luigi returns to his family and steals the position of the Don. After we get married, I'm the only person who has the highest access over the vaults under the Conti family. Luigi even forcibly expands the ring that signifies ultimate authority—which has been passed down from generation to generation for a century—and slides it onto my ring finger. He buys half of Sandalay's estates just so he can fill the vineyards with the white grapes I've mentioned in passing. He tells me that his turf is called Isabella. But everything changes when I discover a photo album stashed in a hidden compartment in Luigi's study. All 2,000 photos feature a young woman in a white dress who is reading in the library. That is the female assassin he's planning on training. The woman looks very pure and innocent. She's most suited to conquer certain bigwigs' hearts. But now, it seems that Luigi's the one being conquered by her. When Luigi finds out about my discovery, he throws the photo album into the fireplace and watches it burn in the fire with a stony expression. "I'm just repackaging her so that she can aid me in money laundering. Just pretend you never saw the photo album." I push the signed divorce agreement over to Luigi. "I said, sign the agreement." Frustrated, Luigi pins the divorce agreement on the table with a knife, his expression insanely dark. "Isabella Serra, have you forgotten about the Conti family's rules? There's no such thing as divorce. We can only be widowed."

For seven years, I've kept my identity hidden while secretly helping my girlfriend, Natasha Doyle, become one of the top designers in the world. A major design awards ceremony is being held tonight. My plan is to reveal my real identity and propose to her after she receives the award. But then, I see her walking up on stage, hand-in-hand with Connor Gibson, her partner in the design studio. "All of Natasha's accomplishments are the result of my hard work and effort," Connor proudly declares. Natasha smiles and nods in agreement. "Without him, I wouldn't be the person I am now." Thunderous applause rings from the crowd. The camera flashes keep going off. I stand in the corner, my heart in despair. As I walk out of the venue, I make a call. "Cut off all the funding and investments into Natasha's studio. Don't help her with the patent infringement lawsuit either. Let her deal with the legal consequences herself."

To the public, Maggie Sinise and I are a golden married couple who have lived peacefully with each other for over four decades. But when Maggie is on her deathbed, she grips my hand tightly while pleading to me, "Aaron, if there ever is a next life, please… please let me and Scotty be together…" I feel as though I've gotten struck by lightning. The shock lasts for a long time. But since this is Maggie's death wish, I nod in agreement. "Okay." Upon hearing the answer she's been yearning for, Maggie closes her eyes in satisfaction. What I don't expect is that both of us have actually returned to the timeframe that's set 40 years ago. Just as I'm trying to wrap my mind around the question as to why Maggie has gotten reborn as well, I hear her stating firmly, "I will never marry Aaron! In this lifetime, Scotty is the only man I will ever marry!" I'm not mad at all. I'm just curious about one thing, though. How will Maggie ever rebuild Sinise Group and make it great again without my help this time?

The night before my engagement, I saw Leo Vitaly in a naked embrace with my best friend, Sophia, at the villa. I did not cry or create a scene. Instead, I went crazy as I slept with three of his best buddies. I left evidence of our lovemaking on the wooden desk of his office, condoms in the passenger seat of his car, and a leather whip in his private wine cellar. All of this was left behind on purpose to tell him what I did. When Leo found out about it, all he did was put out the cigar in his hand and made a group call to his buddies. "You've all slept with her? What did she taste like?" Taunting laughter was heard from the other end of the call. "She's pretty flexible in bed." "Not bad, but she needs to be more adventurous in bed. The minor celebrities I sleep with are better than she is." "Haven't you given her a taste before by giving her a good lesson, Leo? She's too tight down there." My meticulously planned revenge was nothing but a joke to him. Leo had not cared at all. That night, I broke down. Leo sent me to the sanatorium after that. He 'treated' me there for an entire year.

On the night the Bianchi family goes bankrupt, I sell myself to the Moretti family of Newmont. Fiora Greco, the Madre of the family, has arranged for me to marry Don Lorenzo Moretti. But at that time, he's in love with a nurse named Sofia Ciampi. Although Sofia descends from the most chaotic district in Brookland, Lorenzo is willing to give up his position as the Don for her sake. Unfortunately for Lorenzo, Fiora threatens to off herself if he doesn't marry me right away. She claims that the Donna of a mafia family must never be a commoner. On the day Lorenzo and I get married, Sofia accepts a Mexara businessman's marriage proposal and leaves Newmont. When Lorenzo's speeding toward the airport in an attempt to chase after Sofia, he gets into a car accident, which results in him losing Sofia completely. Later on, he pins the blame of losing his beloved Sofia on me. Since then, everything I own and do has price tags attached to it.

“Help me fake my death and arrange a completely new identity.” “Donna,” the man was clearly shocked. “Why? The Don dotes on you. The whole of Sicily knows—” “That’s none of your business,” I interrupted him. “I’m leaving in five days.” Walking out of the black market, the LED screen in the square was still showing footage of my lavish wedding with Don Alexander three years ago, a ceremony that cost over $500 million. Everyone thought Don Alexander loved me deeply, and I thought so too. Until this afternoon, on our third wedding anniversary, I returned to Sicily early, hiding in the lounge of my husband—Don Alexander’s—office, wanting to surprise him. Instead, I saw his secretary hiding under his desk. While the underboss Marco was reporting the losses from the dock smuggling operation, Isabella was kneeling between Alexander’s legs, skillfully unbuttoning his trousers. Her head bobbed up and down. After Marco left, Isabella smiled seductively. “Could your Donna serve you like this during a meeting?” Alexander’s voice was filled with desire. His hands kneaded her breasts. “Sophia is too conventional, too boring. You’re much more exciting in bed, you little slut.” I covered my mouth, completely devastated. But when I actually left, the Don, who had found me boring, was the one who completely broke down.

When I was ten, my mother married into the Corleone family, and I followed her into that house. Before Vincent Corleone learned to hate me, he had once treated me like a real little sister. Later, he became the one who hurt me most. He believed my mother had driven his own mother to her death, and from that day on, he made sure I paid for it. Humiliation, contempt, cruelty—he never spared me any of it. Then Leo Moretti, Vincent’s closest friend, confessed that he loved me. I thought he was my way out. I was wrong. The morning after I gave him my first time, I overheard him speaking to Vincent behind a half-closed door. “I got the photos from her first night,” Leo said quietly. “Are you really going to make them public?” Vincent’s voice was cold enough to freeze my blood. “She owes my mother a life. If I can’t take that, then I’ll make sure she pays another way. I want her ruined.” That was the moment I understood. The tenderness had been fake. The love had been a trap. And the man I had trusted most had been waiting all along to destroy me. What they didn’t know was that two weeks earlier, I had already received an invitation from Professor Evans at the world’s top international medical research institute. So this time, I left first. And I was never coming back.

When my older brother, Ivan Goldsmith, gets drugged, I'm forced to strip down and use my body as an antidote for him. After I get pregnant, Mom and Dad tell us that we're not blood-related siblings at all. They then ask him to marry me. Ivan nods in agreement. But on the same day, he gets into a car accident after he goes racing. I don't mind him having crippled legs. In fact, I insist on becoming his bride. I thought Ivan would be touched upon hearing my declaration and that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me. On our wedding night, our villa goes ablaze. After waking up choking on the thick smoke, the first thing that pops into my mind is to save Ivan from the inferno. Unexpectedly, I see him smashing a vase right into my head. Before I pass out, I hear his icy voice. "You, Mom, and Dad have ruined my love life! I've given all of our assets to Vicky just to make amends to her! Since all of you have ruined my life, then you might as well die!"

During a battle with the vampires, I get injured by a silver dagger in order to protect my mate, Evan Stormhowl. Not only am I incapable of giving birth since then, but my wolf also sinks into an eternal slumber. Because of those reasons, I lose my status as the strongest warrior in the pack and become a laughingstock. For seven years, I grit my teeth and endure the mocking comments from others while doing my best to carry out my duties as the Luna, just so I can preserve Evan's dignity as the Alpha. But he can be seen with an arm wrapped around Lilian Wolfhart's waist at the hunting rite that's only hosted once per five years. When the celebratory banquet is in full swing, an elder named Lucas Nightshade clinks his wine glass while guffawing loudly. "Alpha Evan, I know you've been yearning for Lilian this whole time. Why don't you let her have your pup tonight?" The bonfire illuminates Lilian's bright red cheeks, making her look delicate and beautiful. I let out a cold chuckle before dumping a glass of red wine onto Lilian, who's still fantasizing about having Evan's pups. "I reject that suggestion! I, Erin Bloodmoon, will never share my mate with other she-wolves!" Since seven years have already passed, everyone else must have already forgotten that I'd rather have a dead mate than a disloyal one.