Tragic Romance

After five years with Nathaniel Sinclair, Sylvia Garner thought their love would lead to a lifelong commitment. But when Nathaniel postponed their wedding, her world began to crumble. At a private club, Sylvia stumbled upon a scene that shattered her heart—Nathaniel down on one knee, proposing to another woman. “You’ve been with Sylvia for five years, but now you’re suddenly marrying Vivian Hayes. Aren’t you afraid she’ll be upset?” someone asked. Nathaniel shrugged it off. “Vivian is ill; this is her dying wish. Sylvia loves me too much to leave.” The whole world knew Sylvia loved Nathaniel to the point of obsession, believing she couldn’t live without him. But this time, he was wrong. On the day of his wedding, he told his friend, “Keep an eye on Sylvia. Don’t let her know I’m marrying someone else!” His friend froze. “Sylvia is getting married today too. Didn’t you know?” At that moment, Nathaniel broke down.

Abbie Gomez is on a mission for justice. Fueled by the tragic loss of her lover, she's taken on a new identity and joined the Camorra, a notorious criminal gang. But things take a wild turn when she crosses paths with Luna Salvatore, a Camorra member who's a dead ringer for her lost love, Xanthe. Little does Abbie know, Luna is hiding a monstrous secret - she's a vampire.

After pursuing Yves Chapman for five years, he finally agrees to marry me. Two months before the wedding, I get into an accident. I call him thrice, but he rejects my call each time. It's only because Clarisse Tatcher advises him to give me the cold shoulder for a while to stop me from pestering him. When I crawl out of that valley, I'm covered in injuries. My right hand has a comminuted fracture. At that moment, I finally understand that certain things can't be forced. But after that, he starts to wait outside my door, his eyes red as he asks me to also give him five years.

The day after I got engaged to my boyfriend, his best friend locked me up. He smiled as he unbuttoned his shirt, stepping closer with each passing moment. "Mich, I'm your true destiny," he said, his voice low and menacing. As I struggled to resist, I lost my footing and tumbled down the stairs. When I woke up, all my memories were gone. The handsome stranger standing before me noticed my confusion and kindly offered an explanation. "You're my fiancée, but you cheated on me," he said.

The Internet is shocked when Peyton Grant, an award-winning actor takes his life. His final tweet before his death is short and simple. "I like you so, so much, Ri. But you're too bright—you burn me whenever I get close to you." Everyone knows Rita York's character in her new show is called Rina. That's when I learn that the person I've had a crush on for a decade has someone that he loves but can't have. When I wake up one day, I find that I've traveled back three years in time. This time, I'm going to help Peyton make his wish come true.

I died the night before my wedding to Christopher. But on the wedding day, a giant screen showed photos of me in bed with another man. In a fit of rage, Christopher smashed the screen and got engaged to my sister, Elizabeth. When my father informed him of my disappearance, Christopher sneered. “Disappeared? With the disgusting things she has done, she’s probably too ashamed to show her face!” My brother joined in with a scornful yell. “She hurt Liz, and now she has done such shameless things. I refuse to acknowledge such a wicked sister!” The shock and anger led to a fatal stroke, and my father died right there. Since then, I was despised by everyone in Cloud City. What they did not know was that it was the seemingly gentle Elizabeth who had brutally stabbed me to death and dumped my body in the river. Two months later, a fisherman found my body washed ashore.

My husband, Henry Luther, never loved me.He's always loved my younger sister instead.I chose to step aside and fulfill their love.But no one believed my sincere sacrifice..."Are you trying to act pitiful again?" Henry stared at me with a hostile look in his eyes.

I'm Tristan Scott's driver's daughter. Ten years ago, my father died at the hands of Tristan's abductors as he tried to save Tristan. Tristan had held me close and told me, "I'll care for you for the rest of your life on your father's behalf." Later, my mother's cancer relapsed due to her sorrow after losing my father. Before her death, she hoped to see Tristan and me marry. But on the wedding day, Tristan leaves me at the altar. I weep and try to keep him around, but he sneers and says, "You should know where to draw the line—your father gave his life in exchange for the cushy life you now have. That should be enough for you! You're dreaming if you think you can marry me!" In the end, my mother dies without seeing Tristan put a ring on me. That night, his assistant shares an Instagram story. The photo is of her and Tristan's faces plastered to each other as she shows off the ring on her finger. It's captioned, "My answer is yes."

My husband took our six-year-old daughter on a fishing trip, but when his first love called, he left her alone to answer his phone. With no one watching her, our daughter fell into the sea, and we never recovered her body. Heartbroken, I called him and begged him to return, but his voice was cold as he said, “Cheyenne, today’s Queenie's birthday. Can you stop being such a buzzkill?” When I stumbled back home in despair, I found his first love clinging provocatively to him, a smug smile on her face. “What’s got you so upset, sis-in-law?” she sneered. I let out a cold laugh and flipped the dining table over. “As long as you’re alive, I’ll never be happy.”

On the day of the company's annual gala, my CEO husband suddenly assigned me an unexpected business trip. The plane had barely touched down when I received a call from his young assistant. Before I could utter a word, her voice came through, "Matty, did you send Daphne on that business trip just so we could spend more time together?" And then, as if to hammer the nail deeper into my heart, I heard his unmistakable tone—light, indulgent, full of affection, "What do you think, silly girl?" Her laughter rang out before she teased, "Then tonight, let's try something new. I promise you'll be satisfied..." The call ended amidst a swirl of suggestive murmurs. Staring at my phone, I waged a silent war with the pain gripping my chest. Again and again, I dialed his number, each attempt met with either silence or the cruel finality of his phone being switched off. Finally, I let out a bitter laugh, tucking the phone away as if to bury the wound it carried. From that moment on, I resolved—no more questions, no more efforts to understand this man who had once been my whole world. But fate has its own irony. Later, it was he who came back, pleading, begging me to love him again.