Tragic Short

Lena Clermont fell hard for her dad's friend, Andrew Rohan—twelve years older. The first time she saw him, he was all sharp suits and broad shoulders, effortlessly standing out. He smiled, patted her head, and handed her a princess dress. Fast forward to twenty. He got drugged at a banquet. She wore that same dress, offering herself as the cure.

On the day of my wedding, my parents suddenly show up at my house with my fiancé, Yoseph Caldwell. They say they've decided the bride is going to change. "Your sister's terminally ill, and her only wish is to marry Yoseph. You're her younger sister, so be generous and help her out." Yoseph chimes in calmly, "Don't worry. It's just a ceremony. Once she passes, you and I can still get the marriage certificate." When I refuse, my parents tie me up. "We'll let you out once the wedding's over." But not long after they leave, an intruder breaks in and brutally murders me. By the time they finally remember me, all that's left is my rotting corpse.

My husband took our six-year-old son to meet his first love, using him as a cover. At some point, he sent our son to buy burn cream. My sweet boy then encountered a lunatic who stabbed him to death. The pain in my heart was unbearable. When I saw the burn cream still in my son's hand, I broke down in tears. Yet, my husband called to berate me, "Look at the son you've raised, Shayla Joy! He burned Claire and didn't even apologize. Get him back here right now!"

My twin sister and I marry twin brothers from a powerful mafia family. She marries the elder, Leo Smith, a federal judge. I marry the younger, Sam Smith, a surgeon. While I'm hospitalized for a high-risk pregnancy, I'm abducted by criminals demanding ransom. They use my phone to call Sam 32 times, but every one goes unanswered. Enraged, one of the abductors beats my stomach with a baseball bat to vent his anger. I try desperately to protect my unborn child, but I lose the baby anyway. Finally, the abductor calls Sam one last time. This time, he answers, only to snap, "Annie almost miscarried. I was just taking her for a checkup. Can you stop calling and trying to get my attention?" With no ransom coming, the furious abductors tie me up and throw me into a swimming pool. Then, they leave. Just as I'm about to take my last breath, my sister arrives and pulls me out. Seeing me almost dead from the miscarriage, she calls Leo in a panic. But all she gets is a cold answer. "Currently punishing the man who nearly caused Annie Morgan's miscarriage. Do not disturb." She tries to call the police, but her phone dies. With no other option, she drives me away herself. On the way back, a sudden blizzard hits, and a landslide blocks the road. The car breaks down. We're trapped and shivering in the cold. Thankfully, a forest patrol finds us just in time. We survive. When we wake up in the hospital, the first thing that comes to us is that we have to get divorced!

While I was nine months pregnant, the apple of my husband’s eye moved into our house. Whenever she saw me, she would make a sad face. My husband was sure that I was flaunting my pregnancy to make her angry. “Rachel is frail, and she can’t get pregnant, yet you’re walking around making her upset?! Do I seriously have to teach you a lesson?!” He ordered the bodyguards to lock me in the attic that had not been in use for a long time and told them not to give me food. I pleaded for mercy and told him that the ultrasound scan showed that the twin babies were too big. I told him that the doctor had claimed that I had to be hospitalized while I waited for my delivery. But he laughed as if he had heard the world’s greatest joke. When he spoke, his voice was as cold as ice. “You’re still three days away from your delivery date! Enough with the pitiful act! Repent while you’re in the attic! This is what you get for making Rachel upset!” The contractions hurt so much that I clenched my fists to the point that my nails broke, but no one unlocked the door to the attic. My piercing screams echoed in the attic for a long time until my whole body was soaked in blood, and one of my babies was stuck between my bloody legs. Three days later, my husband ate his breakfast that was not up to his taste and said, “Have Jane make breakfast for me, then have her apologize to Rachel with a gift. If she’s sincere enough, I’ll send her to the hospital to deliver the babies.” But no one dared go up to the attic because the blood that flowed down from it had already reached the second step of the stairs.

“Well done, Mr. Alexander. My baby’s dead. I want a divorce. You’ve taken the only reason I stayed.” ********************** Becky’s world turned upside down when she woke up in her boss’ bed. Expecting to be fired, she was blindsided by his proposal, a desperate move for Alexander to retain his CEO position in his father’s corporation. But behind closed doors, Alexander made a cruel promise to his childhood love, Helen: “It’s just for a year. I’ll get rid of her like a waste bin.”   Their marriage was all for show, glamorous on the outside but cold and harsh behind closed doors.    What happens when Alexander abandons Becky during labor, leading to the tragic loss of her baby? Her grief fuels her strength, and for the first time, Alexander fears losing her.   Now, Alexander  seeks a reunion, but Becky’s heart burns for revenge. Can she ever forgive him, or has his betrayal left a wound too deep to heal?

My son is dead. He dies in a cramped toilet cubicle after having his skull smashed in. My husband, the school principal, arrives on the scene. The first thing he does is carry his true love's son, the one who killed my son, into an ambulance. They hurriedly leave. Before his death, my son tells me, "Don't cry, Mom. I'm not sad that Dad doesn't believe me. It's enough that you do…" I call Joshua Tucker during my son's funeral. He roars angrily, "Kenny had to get two stitches on his arm because of your son! If you keep pestering me like this, I'll beat him up when I get home!" My son? I look at the gaping hole in my son's head, the one that won't ever bleed anymore. I shut my eyes. Yes, he's my son. My son is dead, Joshua. From now on, there's nothing between us.

(Reverse Harem)(Sequel out now as The Werewolf Queen's Daughter) I was an Omega by birth, with an Alpha for a father. For years, he had pressed me to be more, be better. His little warrior. But training and abuse could only take away so many weaknesses. Rebellion leeched into my being. Exact revenge for the little wolf he had harmed in more ways than one. When time came for my mate to find me, fate had other plans. Vampires were our sworn enemies, but Julian was nothing short of a fantasy. Life was finally perfect, until we realized another part of our hearts were left in my old pack. Mikaela. Wolves had never known two mates, yet Mikaela proved everything to be true. But my father had other plans. War lingered within his eyes and a newfound hate for his little warrior. Gone were the days of innocence and bliss. Let the bloodshed begin. Alphas come and go, but a vampire king will reign forever.

On Mia Larson’s birthday, her mother, who had been her anchor, passed away. Her husband, Nick Ford, did not celebrate her birthday, nor did he attend her mother’s funeral. Instead, he was at the airport, picking up his one true love.

After seven years of marriage, Marisol Speight's husband, Lucian Muller, is unpredictable and treats her with cold indifference as if she's nothing. She once believed that after marrying Lucian, she would one day win his heart and live a happy, fulfilling life. However, on a snowy anniversary that only she remembers, she finally realizes that Lucian and his family are happy enough without her. She'll never be anything more than an outsider who can't blend in. He hates her for making him break his promise to marry his childhood friend; their son mocks her for falling short in every way when compared to said childhood friend… Marisol is doubly betrayed by her husband and son. They're as intimate with another woman as they never were with her. She laughs self-deprecatingly at the mess that is her life. Then, she loses hope in them and asks for a divorce. She gives up custody of her son and leaves, later becoming a globally renowned fashion designer and genius painter—her work isn't accessible to just about anyone. Unexpectedly, her husband and son refuse to let her go despite her already giving up on them. Her son cries, "You're my mom! You can't hold other children!" Her husband, who has always been cold and indifferent, turns clingy and refuses to agree to the divorce. "You're the one who chose me, so you have to bear the responsibility for life! You want a divorce? Dream on!"