Tragic Romances

After Leo Carter’s older brother passed away, his mother proposed that he marry his late brother’s pregnant wife, Ariel Sullivan. Leo refused. “Fawn is my life,” he said coldly. “I’d rather give up inheriting my brother’s position as the don than ever betray my wife.” I was deeply moved by his devotion. That was until I accidentally overheard a conversation between Leo and his mother. “The child in Ariel’s womb is clearly yours,” his mother said sharply. “So why won’t you marry her?” Leo exhaled a cloud of smoke. His gaze drifted somewhere far away, unreadable. “I promised Ariel I’d leave my brother with an heir,” he said calmly. “But this stays between us. If Fawn ever finds out, I’m dead.” His mother’s expression darkened. “So what if she finds out? She can’t even have children herself. Are you going to end the family bloodline because of her?” Leo cut her off, his voice suddenly cold and dangerous. “If she finds out, she will leave me. And I can’t survive losing her. If you want a grandson, then keep your mouth shut.” I stumbled away in a daze, and the blood in my veins slowly turned cold. Leo understood me better than anyone. He knew that in my world, love could not tolerate a betrayal. So the moment he betrayed me, I made my decision. I was leaving.

On our sixth wedding anniversary, I felt a seam split open in my skull. Not from pain, but from truth. “Ethan, that new assistant… how does she taste?” Marcus’s thought, slick as oil. Ethan's reply slithered through my veins: "Young. Tender. Like summer berries." His lips shaped a lie. His hand shielded me from the crowd, even as his fingers pressed a blood-red cocktail into my palm. "Don't let Lena find out,"he thought, the words clear as speech. "I’d in a big trouble." Laughter swirled. Champagne clinked.their mind. Nobody knew I could hear every thought ,the ability to read minds awakened in me last night. . Nobody knew I had already known about his betrayal long ago. There were no tears, no screams I just replied “yes” to Professor Johnson’s encrypted call-the path I should have chosen six years ago. In three days, I would vanish. Not running from him. Running back to who I was at twenty—the rising star of virus research.

I was feeding my seven-year-old daughter, Lucy Langer, when Robert Langer crashed through the front door, reeking of alcohol. His shirt collar hung askew, and red marks blazed across his neck. "Audrey," he said hoarsely, "someone spiked my drink at the charity gala. But don't worry. I've already had my lawyer handle it." I nodded. After so many years of marriage, I knew he only had eyes for me and our daughter. He never strayed. Or so I believed… until eight months later. While Robert was away on a business trip, his cruise ship caught fire. The news dominated every channel. Clutching a sobbing Lucy, I rushed to the hospital, only to find him swathed in bandages, standing outside the maternity ward. "Becca is pregnant," he murmured. "It was that night at the gala… I didn't think it would happen from just once…" He gulped. "When the fire spread, she saved me. But she… got trapped herself." A newborn's wail pierced the corridor as the delivery room doors opened. Becca White was wheeled out, looking pale and exhausted. She clutched my sleeve and pleaded desperately, "Audrey… my babies can't grow up without a father…"

Everyone knew I was hopelessly in love with Hendrick Sam, willing to sacrifice my dignity for him. In the two years we were together, he would drop everything and leave me in the hospital whenever his “one true love” called. People mocked me, saying, “Chloe, you must really enjoy being a doormat.” I just smiled and stayed silent. Later, when he was on his deathbed, he asked, “Chloe, did you ever really love me?” I turned my back on him. Because it was never him I loved, it was his heart.

Kylie Cooper was Jonathan Sinclair's lover for three years. After they broke up, she became his executive assistant. Jonathan treated her coldly and mocked her with sarcasm. Kylie said, "You used me as a stand-in before. Now that she's back, please let me go." However, Jonathan was confused. "A stand-in? I've only ever loved you..."

In the second year of our marriage, which Brett Mason had secured through relentless means, he brought home his latest conquest—a stunning blonde. As the door swung shut, he ran his fingers through her silky hair, flashing me a smug, triumphant grin. "Wanna join us? You might learn a thing or two about not being such a dead fish." I could still recall how he once adored my hair, claiming that just stroking it would melt away his deepest worries. It turned out any woman could serve that purpose. In that instant, a profound sense of release washed over me. I retrieved the divorce agreement I'd stashed away in a drawer and handed it to him. "Sign it, and I'll make room for her." My days were numbered, and I had no intention of wasting what little time remained entangled in his resentment.

Ean's face twisted with anger as he grabbed me by the arm, dragging me toward the old, rusted freezer in the corner of the warehouse. "You're going to feel what Helen felt," he spat. "Maybe that'll teach you not to mess with her." I struggled against him, panic rising in my chest. "Ean, this is insane! It was an accident! Let me explain—" He wasn’t listening. He shoved me inside the freezing metal box and slammed the door shut. The echo of the lock clicking into place made my heart pound in my ears. I banged on the door with my fists. "Ean, please! You can’t do this!" I screamed, but the sound of his footsteps grew fainter as he walked away. He left me with nothing but a single bowl of water, like I was some kind of prisoner. I slumped against the cold metal, shivering. The temperature plummeted almost instantly. The hum of the freezer kicked in, and I realized too late—it wasn’t broken like he thought. It was working, and I was trapped. My body shook uncontrollably as the cold seeped into my bones. I screamed for help until my throat was raw, clawing at the walls in desperation. My bloody handprints smeared across the icy surface, a silent plea for mercy that no one would hear. Seven days passed. When Ean finally returned, the look on his face was one of smug satisfaction. He had expected me to beg, to apologize. But when they pried open the freezer, all they found was my frozen body, stiff and silent, my suffering long over.

The day my girlfriend’s condition worsened and she needed urgent surgery, I publicly called her a burden in front of everyone. Despite her pleas, I abandoned her cruelly. Seven years later, she became a formidable international tycoon and returned home with great fanfare. To exact her revenge on me, the heartless man, she poisoned my mother into silence and sent my father to prison. Eager to see me beg for mercy, she mobilized every connection to track me down. At this point, her parents could no longer bear to watch. With tears streaming down their faces, they revealed the entire truth. “He died seven years ago to donate his organs to you!”

Sa mismong araw ng aming kasal, ang childhood sweetheart ni Hansel Lennox na si Nara Sullivan, ay nagbantang tatalon mula sa isang gusali. Hindi niya ito pinansin at itinuloy ang kasal. Ngunit nang talagang tumalon si Nara, saka siya nag-panic. Simula noon, palagi na siyang pumupunta sa simbahan, unti-unting naging isang deboto. Pinipilit pa niya akong bigkasin ang mga banal na kasulatan at lumuhod habang nagdarasal—lahat sa ngalan ng pagsisisi sa aking mga kasalanan. Dahil sa kanya, nawala ang aking anak. Sa araw na nakunan ako, gusto ko nang makipag-divorce. Ngunit sinabi niyang pareho naming pinagkakautangan si Nara, kaya dapat kaming magsisi nang magkasama. Ginamit niya ang aking pamilya upang takutin ako at panatilihin sa kanyang piling. Inaksaya ko ang buong buhay ko para sa kanya. Ngunit pagmulat ko ng aking mga mata, bumalik ako sa mismong araw ng aming kasal. Sa pagkakataong ito, ako mismo ang magtutulak kay Hansel kay Nara. Ako naman ang magpapahirap sa kaniya.

When the earthquake struck, Pierse Jones instinctively shielded me with his body, taking the full brunt of the impact and suffering multiple fractures. In the hospital room, the girl in the next bed looked at me with envy and said, “Your husband didn’t even care about his own life to save you. He really loves you.” I forced a smile. “Yeah.” But just last night, after I had fallen asleep, he slipped into the bathroom, his voice soft and soothing as he spoke to someone else—his little mistress, “I’m fine, don’t cry. Be good.” “As long as I think of you, I’m not afraid of anything.” Pierse and I grew up together, from childhood sweethearts to each other’s first love. We had been together for ten years, admired by everyone as the perfect couple. No one knew he had a mistress on the side, a girl who looked just like me when I was eighteen.