True Romantic Novels & Stories

I have to admit that my husband's true love is a charming and charismatic woman. After she returns to the country, my husband, who always says he knows nothing about being romantic, racks his brains to think of ways to please her. Even my son wants her to be his mother—he says it to my face, too. To my husband and son, I'm only worthy of cooking and cleaning for them. Later, an autistic little girl tugs on my shirt and says firmly, "Zach might not want his mommy, but I do!" It's only then that I realize flowers can bloom in parched land. When I'm finally living the life I want, my ex-husband and son come to me, telling me they regret their actions… My ex-husband calls and says Zach misses me. I answer, "I'm not his mother anymore." Then, he says he's made a mistake—he's realized that I'm the one he loves. The man beside me kisses the back of my hand, sounding jealous as he says, "Do you think you deserve to be with her when I've yet to win her heart?"

The most popular girl from my high school is getting married. She invites everyone in our class to the wedding. I want to act like I don't see the message, but she deliberately tags me in the group chat. "You kept pretending to be a rich girl like me in high school, but I don't hold it against you. In fact, I'll allow you to attend my wedding tomorrow to see what the rich life is like." The other classmates speak up. "You're so generous, Haley. It's no wonder you can marry someone from the Baumer family. I can't believe you can even forgive someone as materialistic as Emma!" "Does someone like Emma Larkin even deserve to attend Haley's wedding? She's so full of herself." As the insults become worse, Haley Stockwell steps forward to keep the peace. "Come on, let's put this behind us. I'm not bothered by these things since it's been so long. Anyway, let's not bear a grudge against Emma when she's already so poor and ugly." Everyone in the group chat starts singing her praises and calling her kind and innocent. I sneer. Haley is the one who kept pretending to be rich—I'm the true heiress from an affluent family, yet she made me out to be a liar. She turned me into the target of everyone's insults. I check the digital wedding invitation to see that the venue is my villa. The groom looks familiar—isn't he my husband's driver? I smile at the thought of what's going to happen. I reply, "Sure! I have to attend your wedding!"

The day my cancer is diagnosed, my husband slaps me across the face. "You're vicious! You're even pretending to have cancer just to look more pitiful than your sister!" My son shouts, "Mom is horrible! I hate Mom!" I don't cry or make a scene. I quietly put the test results away and choose a grave for myself. In 15 days, I'll leave this city to die somewhere else in peace. I won't even give them the chance to regret it.

Stanley Hamilton and I were basically Southport's favorite hate-watch couple. For Elodie—my oh-so-perfect adopted sister—he wrecked my company and had my parents thrown in prison. I, in turn, drove Elodie to her death, making him watch as she jumped off a rooftop. Our forced marriage? Just a slow ride from mutual disgust straight into mutual destruction. Then came the car explosion. Stanley, who'd hated me forever, still used his last breath to shove me out of the blast. "Vivienne Weston, one lifetime tangled with you is enough. If there's a next one, let's never meet." He touched the tattoo of Elodie's name on his neck, smiling faintly as the flames took him. After he died, I wandered through life half-dead myself until illness finished the job. When I woke up in the past, staring at two betrothal contracts, I didn't hesitate—I picked the guy everyone swore was insane. Stanley and my dad? I handed them right back to Elodie. This time, I wanted no meetings, no memories, no strings. Ever again.

I bring Selena Bloomberg home because I find her pitiful, and I treat her very well as if she were my own younger sister. However, I didn't think that she would end up impersonating me as the Bloomberg family's heiress and kill me afterward before getting rid of my body. Now that I am reborn, I refuse to let the same tragedy happen again. I swear that I will make her pay. An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth!

After working for five years, I finally get to purchase my favorite penthouse in Rainville. Tessa Boston, my younger cousin who has just graduated from high school, tells me she wants to stay with me during her summer break. I want to reject her at first, but my mom claims that we're all relatives here, and that I shouldn't act all high and mighty just because I'm richer now. So, everyone drops Tessa off on my doorstep without even consulting me. But after Tessa starts living with me, she frequently sings loudly and makes a lot of noise in the middle of the night. I can't get a good night's sleep because of her. After that, she even invites her old high school classmates over to the penthouse and throws a party there. Tessa tells her classmates that this is the smallest residence she owns. Apparently, this is a gift she has received to celebrate her 18th birthday. Everyone is envious of her and calls her an actual heiress of a wealthy family. But these punks completely mess up my penthouse. My neighbors begin lodging noise complaints against me. Unable to take it anymore, I warn the youngsters to keep their voices down. But Tessa thinks I've humiliated her, so she begins harboring a grudge against me. When I'm watering my flowers on the balcony, she uses that opportunity to lock me outside. It's an insanely hot day. I'm stuck on the balcony from morning till night. By then, I've already died from the heat. When I wake up again, I've returned to the day Tessa tells me she wants to stay with me.

During the holiday, I make a rare trip back to my hometown. After dinner, Dad orders me to wash the dishes. I pause for a moment and ask, "Do we not have a caretaker at home?" Mom frowns and says, "Julia works so hard taking care of us every day. Since you are back, you should let her rest. You should be the one doing everything." I fail to fathom the logic behind her reasoning. So, I argue, "I am paying her to be a caretaker here. Is this not exactly what she is hired to do? How does it make sense that I pay and still have to do the chores myself?" My words make the caretaker, Julia Woodard, cry. My parents get angry at me too. The frown on Mom's face becomes even more pronounced. "What's the point of raising you? We barely see you all year. You are not as thoughtful as Julia! At least she stays by our side every day." Dad points at me and scolds, "You might as well stop coming back. From now on, Julia is our real daughter! Go do whatever you want!" I let out a helpless laugh. I am busy working away from home, but I send a large amount of money back every month and even fork out extra money to hire a caretaker for them. But in the end, they think her as their caring daughter and shower her with affection instead. If that's the case, I'll stop sending money and see whether Julia will still act like their "daughter" for free.

The Rossi family has a rule. If you want to be the next Donna, you have to prove yourself. Make three hundred million dollars, clean money, in a single year. All on your own, no family help. I spent ten years trying to do it for Vincent. I built ten companies from the ground up. But every single time, just as I was about to cross that finish line, something would go wrong. Everything would just… collapse. This year, I finally did it. I ran to his study, audit in hand, my heart hammering against my ribs. I thought I’d finally won. Instead, I learned my entire life was a lie. He handed my entire empire to Ava—my father's bastard. All because she supposedly saved his life once, and he wanted to make her the real Donna. I gave up. On him. On my family's dream of rising with his. Then I picked up the phone and called the Outfit in Chicago. "Your marriage proposal," I said. "I accept."

The day Bryson—the Harding heir—chose Talia Connell, the Connells' real daughter, I found out I was pregnant. For seven months, he went all out planning her dream wedding. Meanwhile, I fought through a brutal delivery and almost bled out bringing Kyle into the world. Then a breaking alert hit— [Harding Heir in Late-Night Street Racing Crash: Wife Critically Injured, Bryson Harding Permanently Loses Fertility] Scared he'd take Kyle from me, I stayed hidden for five years. Then came Bryson's mom's birthday banquet. I got pulled in as a server. Kyle was waiting in the lounge—until he bolted out and slammed straight into her. The whole room went dead quiet. Kyle looked just like Bryson as a kid. No question. Bryson shoved through the crowd, voice rough. "Kid... who are your parents?" Kyle froze, then broke down. "Mommy... I can't find Mommy. Her name is Joanna."

After I was falsely accused of being a third wheel by a fake heiress, she hired a group of people to corner me in the delivery room under the pretense of giving me an intervention. "How dare you, a shameless mistress, hope to secure a place with your child!" "Today, I'm going to make sure that b*stard in your belly is gone for good. Let's see if you dare get into my man's bed again." The group blocked the delivery room door, their faces twisted with malice as they refused to let the doctors deliver my baby. I begged them to let me go, but they only laughed cruelly and forced me down in front of a camera while I struggled through labor. They forcefully pulled the baby out of my belly and killed him right in front of me. I clung to my child's lifeless body, sobbing hysterically, while they posted my miserable state online with the caption, 'This is what happens to mistresses.' Later, I exposed her fake heiress status and revealed the dirty secrets of her and those people who were allegedly giving me an intervention online. Relentlessly attacked by netizens until she had nowhere left to turn, she ended up begging me for forgiveness. I pointed to the edge of the rooftop and said, "Jump, and I'll forgive you."