Tragic Romances Novels & Stories

I had just returned from a business trip. The moment I stepped through the door, I scooped my wife into my arms and rushed her straight to the bathroom for a steamy shower together. We were kissing passionately when, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed something: the toilet seat was flipped up. I froze. Seven years ago, my wife had read a post online claiming that when men pee standing up, bacteria splash onto the seat. She begged me to sit down to pee for the sake of her health. I have kept that promise. For seven years of marriage, that seat has never been up. A knot formed in my stomach, but the bathroom was spotless, so clean it looked staged, not a single stray hair anywhere. Then I noticed the shower temperature. It was set five degrees lower than her usual 43°C. Men like cooler showers. Women like them hotter… At that moment, I knew, Ruby Lynch had cheated on me.

When my mother-in-law gets hospitalized due to cancer, I'm about to pay the hospital bills when I find out that my wife, Lilibeth Saunders, has used our savings to pay off a male escort's debt. That's when I finally explode in rage. "Mom has gotten hospitalized because of her illness, and yet you use our money to pay off the debt of a useless piece of trash who relies on his manhood for survival! You really are an evil bitch, Lilibeth Saunders!" As Lilibeth grips the lingerie, she remains stone-faced. "How am I the one at fault here? I'm just trying to give my future child a father who still has a future with me! You can always earn money to treat your own mother's illness! Meanwhile, Carl can't do the same thing about his debt! If he doesn't pay off his debt, his life will be ruined! "You only have yourself to blame, Josiah! After all, you're a good-for-nothing impotent man!" The entire room falls eerily silent. My friend, who's there to help patch things up between us, looks at me with sympathy in his eyes. All the criticism surrounding me flashes through my mind at that moment. That's when I realize that it's time for me to end things with Lilibeth once and for all. What she doesn't know is that she's the infertile one based on the doctor's diagnosis. Also, her mother is the one being hospitalized, not mine.

Everyone knew that Alpha Eric loved his human Luna above all else. Every full moon, his wolf went into a frenzy. He needed to having sex with mate to relieve the agony. But as a human, I couldn't withstand his Alpha power. So, every month, he sent me to a cabin at the foot of the mountain. He would always say tenderly, "I'm afraid I'll lose control and hurt you. I don't want you to see me like a monster." Every she-wolf in the Pack envied me for having such a devoted Alpha. I used to think so, too. Until I traded ten years of my life with the Witch for Moonlight Herb—a rare herb capable of soothing an Alpha's full moon frenzy. I stood outside the bedroom door, only to hear him having sex with Victoria, the Beta's daughter. "Alpha... aren't I better than that fragile human?" Victoria cooed. "Can she even handle you?" "Shut up! Don't talk about her!" Eric growled from inside. "Finish and get out. Don't be here when she gets back." I froze. It turned out that for the past two years, he had found a better antidote for every full moon. After that night, Victoria fell pregnant with pureblood Alpha twin heirs. He explained to me, guiltily and cautiously, "My mother used IVF to get Victoria pregnant. As soon as the babies are born, I'll send her away. We can raise them together, okay?" I smiled and nodded. Then, I turned around, threw the Moonlight Herb into the trash can, and made a call. "Pick me up in two days." But the moment I left, the powerful Alpha went mad.

Everyone said my good looks were what saved me from my family's downfall. It was how I managed to become a Donna. I was the only one who knew why he had to compromise to marry me. Xavier Whitmore, the tall and handsome Don, was unable to have physical relationships with a woman. When I shyly took off the gown on our wedding night, he sat in his chair and lit a cigarette before remarking in an icy voice, "I'm allergic to women. That said, you have my word that you will be the only woman in my life." He kept his promise. Though he never so much as touched me in the five years of our marriage, he provided me with a life of luxury and wealth. Although it was merely a title, being his only woman brought me happiness. Everything changed on the day my men and I were ambushed by a rival mafia family. We barely made it out alive. When I returned home, I found him locked in a tight embrace with his widowed sister-in-law, Alice Ortega. "Alice, I won't let you remarry. If you do, I'll make sure that man dies a thousand deaths." I scoffed. It wasn't so much that he couldn't handle being physical with a woman. It was simply that he could not be physical with anyone but her. In that case, she could have the pleasure of being the Donna.

When she married Harry Slate, she was 22 years old while he was 32. During their three years of marriage, he showered her with endless tenderness and would give her anything she wanted. He said he could pick the stars for her if she wanted, even the moon if she so wished. He spoiled her like she was a precious treasure. The only thing was that he had insatiable demands every night. He would chuckle and refuse to let her go, even when she cried and begged for mercy. She knew Harry had a lot of money and a lot of love—and all of it belonged to her. The day her father passed away, she called him 99 times, yet he declined every single one. The next second, she received a photo taken by her best friend. [Celine, is this your man? I saw him hugging a woman on the streets of Palto.] After tapping the photo and seeing the man and the woman, Celine Quest felt as though she had fallen into an icy abyss. The man was Harry, and the woman was her aunt.

The Godfather, Matteo Cross, loved me like I was his whole world. However, he had once cheated on me with a college student. To make it up to me, Matteo pushed aside all family business affairs and stayed by my side for eight straight months, the kind where we were together twenty-four hours a day, never apart for even a second. I thought he had finally changed until last night, when I woke from a nightmare and went looking for my medication. As I passed the study, I heard Matteo speaking softly and affectionately into his phone. “Baby, you’re so tempting… Just hang in there a little longer. Once you give birth to the child, I’ll stay with you.” It took me only three seconds to accept the truth: the man who once swore he loved me was completely gone. With that, I decided then and there to immigrate to Atlantica with my grandfather.

After I failed the mission, the system began to unravel my memories, thread by thread. I was done letting my world revolve around Theodore Calloway like I used to. And I was done trying to stop him from moving his cousin into his home to take care of her for the rest of his life. It was meant to be the perfect ending for everyone. But when I died, Theodore’s desperation drove him to the edge of madness, and he begged for one final glimpse of me. I thought our story had ended there. Then, the system dragged me back to save a world that was already starting to fall apart. When I returned to the Calloway Residence with my son, Theodore hurried toward me, a little boy clutching his hand. His eyes were red-rimmed, his voice unsteady. "Amanda, are you leaving us?" I blinked. Because to me, they were nothing but strangers.

When I married mafia don Paul Garcia, I was twenty-two, and he was thirty-two. By day, he was the cold, dangerous king of the underworld. By night, he was my daddy. Everyone in New Haven knew how much he loved me. I casually mentioned I disliked the ballerina competing with me for the principal role. The next day, she “accidentally” broke her leg and never returned to the stage. One night, I craved pasta from a specific restaurant. Without a word, he led his men into the kitchen, pressed a gun to the chef’s head, and forced him to recreate the dish overnight. I once joked about wanting to sleep among the clouds. He turned around, had the building of a rival family blown up, then bought the tallest one in the city and engraved my name on the top floor. However, in bed, he would exhaust me completely and refuse to let me go. Even when the doctor warned that I was in early pregnancy and needed restraint, he ignored my cries, tied my wrists with his tie, and went on until dawn. The next day, I started bleeding. I called him ninety-nine times, yet he rejected every single call. In my panic, I suddenly received a video from my best friend. “Emily, your don is pinning a woman down and kissing her at the bar of the Four Seasons in Moscovia.” When I opened the video, my heart stopped. The man was Paul, and the woman was my aunt. In that case, I’ll give him two gifts when he comes back: an abortion report and a divorce agreement.

Christmas Eve was meant to be the culmination of seven years of long-distance longing—the day Lorenzo finally slid an engagement ring onto my finger. Instead, a sudden emergency surgery chained me to the operating table. The patient wasn't just suffering from a premature delivery and catastrophic hemorrhaging; she was riddled with infections, the biological fallout of a reckless, hedonistic lifestyle. The girl on the table spat out orders with a venomous entitlement that made my blood run cold. "My husband is the head of the Corleone family. He’s second to none, and this entire city bows to him. If you can’t save my baby, you’re all dead." My mind went blank. There was only one head of the Corleone family: Lorenzo. "You’ve got the wrong man," I said, my voice wavering despite my frown. "The news said he’s already engaged to a woman from a rival family for a strategic alliance." The girl looked at me as if I’d just told a pathetic joke. She surveyed me with a mocking sneer. "Oh, he’s mentioned that woman. He said she’s like a cold corpse—that even touching her makes him sick to his stomach. She doesn't provide him a fraction of the pleasure I do." She smirked. "He heard something happened to the baby. He’s en route from Sicily right now with his personal detail." She flicked her phone screen open. There it was: a photo of her and Lorenzo, locked in a suffocatingly intimate embrace. I froze. A second later, a notification from Lorenzo vibrated against my palm. “Darlin’, something urgent came up tonight. I’m skipping the engagement dinner. I’ll make it up to you later.” Since they were so utterly in love, I decided to give them exactly what they wanted. I dialed a number that had been silent for three years—the number of the true mastermind of the underworld, Don Sebastian. "Does your proposal from three years ago still stand?"

In the tenth year of being Don Vitelli’s sugar baby, the most reckless man alive was ready to change his ways for a good girl. On my twenty‑eighth birthday, he told me it would be our last time together and prepared an entire box of protection. I opened one of the wrappers and asked casually who that good girl was. Caino Vitelli leaned against the headboard and released a slow ring of smoke. “Your sister. I don’t even know how I fell for her. “That little fool can barely breathe after we kiss. She’s as pure as they come.” His tone sounded like a complaint, yet his eyes held a smile. The wrapper slipped from my hand. I stared at him, unable to move. Why her, of all people?