Tragic Novels Mga Nobela at Kwento

My wife, Melanie Sutton, uses my life-saving money to bridge the funding gap of her first love, Fred Grayson's company. With hatred shining in her eyes, she tells me, "You owe him this much, Edison Clark! I'd have gotten together with Fred a long time ago if it weren't for you! "People like you deserve to die!" As expected, I end up dying later on, only to get reborn on the day Melanie confesses to Fred. This time, I no longer stop her.

I've been married to Shawn Ford for three years, and he's humiliated and insulted me throughout. When he's with his friend, he brags, "The woman my Uncle Cameron can't have is licking my boots. I want to laugh whenever I see her sucking up to me." It wouldn't ever occur to him that I'm frequently in his uncle's bed, covered in hickeys and love bites he leaves on my body.

On Teacher's Day, my wife, Hera, was promoted to associate professor. Even for our marriage we simply registered without a proper ceremony, yet this time, she specifically prepared a feast at home to celebrate. During the dinner, she took out the flowers a male student had given her and was about to put them in a vase. Without warning, I knocked the flowers out of her hand, flipped over the vase, and, under the bewildered gazes of the whole family, calmly said, "Let's get a divorce." Hera was stunned at first, then angrily snapped, "Stanley Lawson, what's gotten into you? I’m just putting some flowers my student gave me in a vase. What's the big deal?" My mother-in-law, Sarah Swift, chimed in, "Hera just got promoted to associate professor, and it's Teacher's Day. What's wrong with a student giving her flowers? Are you seriously getting jealous over that?" I glanced at the scattered petals on the floor and slowly said, "Yes, it's because of these flowers that I want a divorce."

Five years after we broke up, my ex bought the company I worked for and suddenly became my direct boss. The project plan I'd stayed up nights working on—nearly killing myself to finish—was handed to someone else without a word. My teammates were split apart, and I became his go-to example when he wanted to tear someone down. I was the laughingstock of the office. Shawn Lubbard said it was the price I had to pay for betraying him. Finally, I asked him what it would take for him to leave me alone. His reply? "Only if you die." Feeling crushed, I drove a knife into my chest right in front of him. Maybe this terrible life should have ended long ago.

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.

On our third dating anniversary, Enzo and I were caught in a cruise ship disaster. I gave him the only life preserver, and I was swallowed by the sea, lost without a trace. Three years later, after finally recovering from my injuries, I rushed back home—only to walk right into his grand wedding with my so-called sister. Bound by a life debt, he had no choice but to marry me—and resented me ever since. He hated that I'd come between him and the woman he truly loved. Even my own parents accused me of being selfish, of ruining my sister's happiness for life. Under the weight of everyone's coldness and rejection, I became desperate and unhinged. … Then, one day, when our family's old enemies came for revenge, he threw himself in front of me and took a knife straight to the heart. Blood gushed out as he used the last of his strength to drag me to safety. "Raina," he rasped, "you saved my life once, and now I've repaid the debt. Just do me one favor—don't come back to haunt me in the next life. All I want is to spend it forever with Selina, just the two of us." My heart tore apart, and I died with that grief. However, when I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I had crashed their wedding.

I'm attacked after the murderer who took my sister's life is released from prison. He pins me to the forest floor, allowing me to scream and shout until I run out of strength. As the fireworks explode above me, blood pools around me. Two months later, my husband becomes his next victim. I burst into manic laughter when I see the torment he has to suffer.

I have a premature rupture of the membrane when I'm 38 weeks pregnant. I have no choice but to undergo an emergency C-section. To my surprise and dismay, the anesthesiologist is my ex-boyfriend, with whom I broke up eight months ago. God, save me! Could I please have another anesthesiologist? It's my ex-boyfriend's child I'm giving birth to, and I suddenly don't want to bring the child into the world anymore!

After I was brought back from the kidnapping, my mafia boss husband, Jonathan Caruso, arranges for me to live in a new villa. "You've suffered so much over the years, Nat…" Jonathan caresses the scar on my face, sympathy and pain evident on his face. As I listen to his words, I just smirk in return. Sure, he's been keeping up a loving and devoted facade. Unfortunately for him, I've always known that he doesn't want me to survive at all. After all, he's the one who has delivered me into the dark and damp water prison three years ago as a wedding gift for Governor Frederick Romano in order to marry his daughter, Kelsey Romano.

I'm staring at this man who looks exactly like my husband, overwhelmed by fear, as I received a message that read, "He's not your husband!"What's even more bizarre is that the name displayed as the sender of the text on my phone is "My Dear Husband"!Who on earth should I believe?