Tragic Romances Novels & Stories

The day I found out that I was a fake heiress who had taken the place of the Jones family’s real daughter, my husband, Timothy Lane, was brought back as the true heir of the Lane family. The man who once said he loved me quickly abandoned both me and our daughter. At that very moment, the real heiress, Nancy Jones, decisively broke up with the fake heir of the Lane family and got together with Timothy. According to them, this was simply ‘making things right’. After losing everything in the blink of an eye, Micah Lane, the fake heir, kidnapped my daughter and me, forcing me to call Timothy for help. However, Timothy ignored our desperate pleas and mocked us. "You two are really something. Of course the fake heiress and fake heir go together. No wonder you make such a perfect pair of actors." On the other end of the line, I could occasionally hear Nancy's raspy, suggestive voice. As I listened to them, Micah stabbed me and my daughter to death. I died a tragic, painful death. After we died, my daughter and I were my husband's final assignment as a mortician before he left the job. The man who claimed he did not care about us fell apart the moment he saw our lifeless bodies. "Wasn't it all supposed to be a lie?! Why weren't you lying to me?! "Please, don't die! Don't leave me!"

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 a dispute broke out between my students, I saw Samantha again—the girl I had broken up with ten years ago; the girl who had been fighting wiped away her tears and cried out for her mother. Samantha froze when she saw me. After a long moment, she seemed to remember herself and quickly apologized. "Mr. Brooke, I'm sorry for causing you trouble." I handled the compensation matter strictly by the book. When everything was settled, she lingered behind the others, clearly wanting to speak but hesitating. "I remember you didn't want to be a teacher back then," she said. I smiled faintly and walked her to the office door. "People change. So do their thoughts." Just like my feelings for her—those had been turned over long ago.

Everyone says I'm lucky to be Frosthowl pack's Luna because my Alpha mate, Matthew White, loves me dearly. I love roses and fireworks, so he buys all that are available on my birthday. When it's almost midnight, he kisses me tenderly and says, "I'll turn you into a Luna that everyone envies, Amber." The fireworks light up the sky above the castle of roses he's built for me, and they go on for the rest of the night. They make it seem brighter than day. He and I do it underneath the fireworks and flowers throughout the night, and I accidentally catch a cold. Matthew is so guilty that he summons the pack's best healer to treat my inconsequential cold. All the werewolves treat our mate bond as a symbol of true love. However, just moments ago, I found a torn pair of black stockings in his suit jacket's pocket. I never wear those. However, his secretary, Beth Seymour, who helps him deal with the pack's matters, wears them every day.

Luke finally agreed to bind with me, urged by his mother Monica on her deathbed. Moonlight spilled through the window, casting a glow on his golden-brown fur. He stood by the bed, his amber wolf eyes deep and seemingly nervous. As soon as he stepped out of the room, his expression returned to its usual calm, and he said to me coldly, "Emma, let's wait a little longer." "I need to bond with Alina first," he continued, his wolf eyes distant, his tone neutral. "Her mother is seriously ill, and I promised her." "What about your mother? She wants to witness our bonding too!" "I have to bond with Alina first. You don't need to worry about my mother’s health," he said, as he effortlessly removed the vow ring Monica had given me from my finger, then turned and walked away. His little wolf followed, its tail wagging happily, showing no sign of reluctance. But as soon as he left, his mother suddenly took a turn for the worse. By the time Monica passed away, I was the only one by her side. Weakly, she squeezed my hand and whispered, "Emma, don’t wait for him anymore. Find someone who truly loves you." Her hand fell limp, and in the quiet darkness, I made two calls. The first was to the church, changing our marking ceremony to a funeral for his mother. The second call was to my best friend. Her brother was the Alpha of another pack, with dark fur and sharp green eyes. "He once said that if I was willing, he would bond with me... Is that promise still valid?" There was a pause on the other end before a deep voice, full of natural authority, came through: "Emma, have you finally figured it out?"

After I fail to win over the hearts of all three female leads, the system tells me that I can return to my original world as long as my body dies in this world. So, I happily order myself a grand meal of carb-based food in the dark basement. After eating my fill, I pull out a coil of rope and get ready to hang myself. But just as I'm about to stick my head through the noose, I suddenly see comments floating before my eyes. "Don't do it, Daniel! Elena's just mistreating you because she feels that she should make it up to Ryan! You're actually her favorite brother!" "That's right! The same applies to your fiancee! Ryan has saved her before, after all! The truth is, whenever she hurts you, she feels her heart wrenching in pain at the same time!" "Your childhood friend feels nothing but guilt for Ryan. Daniel, don't ever give up, and don't take your own life. If you die, the three of them will go crazy for real!"

York Langston locked me up for six months. Word on the street was he dropped over 100 million to buy me my own private island. Security here? Tight enough to rival the White House. Even a bird that flew past the area would get shot down on sight. But what nobody knew… All that luxury people envied? To me, it was just a gilded cage. It wasn't until he found a woman who looked almost like me that his interest began to fade. One day, she stormed the island with a gang at her back while he was away. She slashed my tendons and carved up my face with a blade before locking me inside a cage with a rabid dog. I was barely breathing by the time York finally found me. "York, this woman thought she could fool you by imitating me? She must be a spy! You'll have to flay her alive if you want her to talk!"

Ten days before the wedding, my fiancée spent over a hundred million to buy Marcus Collins a luxury yacht. So, I silently threw away the matching rings I had once planned to give her. Seven days before the wedding, she spent 50 million dollars to celebrate Marcus' birthday. Thus, I set fire to the photo album that held every memory of our past. Three days before the wedding, she wore the ring I had used to propose, and she kissed him deeply by the sea. Today, I finally chose to step aside. I notified our families and friends that the wedding was canceled, and I personally returned the engagement tokens to the Yardley family. Lowering my head, I said softly, "Mr. and Mrs. Yardley…I've always known I'm not worthy of Claire. I hope you can understand."

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."

I was finally pregnant with his child after being married to Grady Winters for five years. I planned to share the wonderful news with him in person, but on that fateful day, I encountered his first love, who had just returned from abroad. She scalded me with soup, spilling it across me before shoving me down the stairs. Curled up and fighting through the piercing pain in my abdomen, I heard her cold, mocking laughter from above. "Who do you think you are to be Mrs. Winters? I've seen plenty of women who are social climbers." Then, she turned to Grady, her voice laced with pride. She playfully pouted, asking, "Didn't I do a good job, Grady? Don't you think you should reward me as well?"