Top Ten Romantic Novels & Stories

I'm Vivian Lunaris, the daughter of Alpha Mason Lunaris of the Moon pack. Yet, my life is even worse than that of a low-tier Omega. I can only become the secret lover of Alpha Damien Londo of the Silvermane pack in order to survive. For five years, Damien has given me all of his love and affection except the Luna crown. On Christmas Eve, Damien and I end up using 99 condoms. During our last round, he bites me on the nape while telling me that he'll announce me as his Luna on the next day. But the next day, he locks me into a cage made of pure silver for the sake of my half-sister, Candice Lunaris, at the Christmas ball. Everyone claims that I'm an evil she-wolf who's prone to jealousy, and that I'm a defective wolf with tainted blood running through my veins. As for Damien, the Alpha I've loved with all my heart, he's the one personally humiliating me in front of everyone. At that moment, I swear to the heavens that I won't be the one kneeling when the altar's flames come to life.

My mom has been brainwashing me with her "quid pro quo" rule. Apparently, I must work hard in earning money just to get whatever I want. A round of doing the dishes earns me 50 cents. Mopping the floor once grants me one dollar. If I get a full score in my exams, that'll be five dollars. In order to buy a pair of white sneakers that I had had my eye on for a long time, I spent three months picking up trash from the streets. I lived like a maid who was paid on one-time services in this home. When I was a high school senior, I fainted during my homeroom period due to long periods of malnutrition. Even though my doctor suggested to my mom to pay attention to my nutrient intake, she began calculating the costs in front of my sick bed instead. "Your hospitalization costs 300 dollars. On top of that, you have a 200-dollar medical bill to settle. All of these costs will be reflected on your wedding gifts in the future, Emily." But when I turned my head, I saw a student sitting on the bed being fed chicken noodle soup by her own mother. Said mother was so heartbroken by her daughter's illness that she kept shedding tears as well. At that moment, my outlook on the world, that I had been maintaining for 18 long years, finally crumbled into dust. It turned out that not all children needed to work hard just to feel their parents' love. After getting discharged from the hospital and returning home, I finally sobered up the moment I noticed the sneakers that my younger brother, Arnold Baird, wore that cost several thousands of dollars. Then, I tore the family portrait into pieces and didn't hesitate to fill in the university that was located the furthest from home when it was time for me to submit my post-graduation details. Ten years later, my mom calls me on the phone. She starts crying to me how Arnold has swindled her out of her pension. Apparently, he's even sold the house just so he can elope with his girlfriend. Not only is my mom alone now, but she doesn't have a place to stay as well. I just smile as I throw her a piece of rag. "You want to live with me, huh? No problem. You'll earn 50 cents for every window you wipe. You can earn your rent like this."

For eight years I was Ethan Black's right hand, his ride-or-die. Then I finally married him and became Mrs. Black. Three months into the marriage, I deliberately shredded one of his contemporary art pieces, a million dollars gone in a few clean strokes, all because his eyes had lingered a second too long on the new intern. Before Ethan could lose his temper, lines of text bloomed in the air in front of me, telling me I was nothing but the villainess in someone else's novel. [This woman's completely lost it. Does she really think Ethan married her out of love?] [He keeps his old buddy around as a human shield to protect his real love. Once she's served her purpose, he ships her off to a psych ward.] [Watch, the male lead's about to slap her.] I stared hard at the man coming through the door. But when Ethan reached me, he didn't even glance at the ruined canvas. He grabbed my hand instead, his voice almost pleading. "Babe, does it hurt? Did it feel good, ripping it up? If that wasn't enough, there's another hundred of them in the storage room."

For the sake of her secretary, who was supposedly battling cancer, my wife, Sofia Griffin, made a shocking proposal. She would pay ten million for taking his virginity as an attempt to help him raise the funds needed. I had barely opened my mouth to object when she cut me down with a sharp rebuke. She said, "Chris has always been a proud man. Just giving him the money would seem like a handout and hurt his pride. "Can't you try to be compassionate? Do you really have to be jealous over something this small?" I said nothing. I simply smiled and nodded. What she didn't know was that, as an infectious disease specialist, I had already recognized the signs. It wasn't cancer... It was late-stage AIDS.

Julia Thompson , Married to Logan Steele from the wealthy Steele family, gets divorced the Second Logan returns to the country after five years. It happened that he had left the states immediately after their marriage, leaving Julia alone with her pregnancy. Julia gets heartbroken when she finds out that his reasons for divorcing her was because he had eyes on her stepsister, Amelia and also claimed that Liam, Julia's five year old son isn't his child. It turns out that Julia was drunk right before their wedding day and she was tricked into going into another room by her stepsister. But what happens when the Top Wealthiest Trillionaire catches the sight of Julia and he'd stop at nothing to claim her for himself, besides, he is her one night stand and the father of her son, Liam.

My boss, Patrick Hoffman, has made a bad investment that fails. When the board wants someone to be held accountable for the loss, he makes me the fall guy. Now that I've been fired from the company, I can no longer make my mortgage payments. My wife, Georgia Lowe, ends up falling seriously ill as well. In dire need of money, I ask Patrick for my severance pay. Sitting in his luxury car, he simply tosses me a few hundred dollars, saying, "You expect me to give you severance pay? I lost over a billion dollars because of you, Heath! How dare you ask me for money? "Here. Take these hundred-dollar bills and buy your wife a decent coffin!" My fists clench as I watch him drive off. Later that night, I drop a bombshell in a group chat filled with investors and business owners. "Seeking employment—bringing years of professional experience in cooking the books to the table. My former boss has nothing but praise for my abilities!"

As the project lead, I was supposed to receive an annual bonus of $28,000. However, my wife transferred all the money to her newly hired male assistant and simply tossed me a supermarket gift card instead. “There’s $30 on this card. Buy whatever you want. I’m pretty generous, aren’t I?” I was stunned. “Joy, my mother needs that money for her surgery. You can’t be serious!” She sneered and said, “Why waste money on someone who’s dying anyway? At most, I’ll give you $700 to pick out a nice coffin.” Looking at her smug face, I smiled as well. Joy probably forgot that although she held all the company shares, the core patents of the company were registered under my personal name. I immediately sent a message to my lawyer. [Starting today, I’m releasing all patents in my name for free!]

The day I turned eighteen, my father picked my birthday dinner to drop his bombshell: he'd fallen for someone else, and he wanted a divorce. Mom was about to flip the table. Then a stream of comments scrolled across my vision. [Don't make a scene! He's just a cheater. We don't even want him.] [Your mom's gorgeous. Play the sweet, doting type, win him over, and she'll walk away with most of his fortune. We're talking billions!] [Take the billions and enjoy the rest of your life. Beats rotting at home as some bitter ex-wife, doesn't it?] Following the comments, I clapped a hand over Mom's mouth and whispered: "Mom, stop! Dad's worth billions, we have to watch what we say!"

The moment my best friend dashes into the lottery shop ahead of me and rattles off that familiar string of numbers, I know instantly that she has been reborn, too. In my past life, my best friend and I were shortlisted for an interview at a Global 500 company just before graduation. However, there was only one opening available. On the day of the interview, I had a sudden urge to buy a lottery ticket, but as a result, I missed the interview, and my best friend got the job. As it turned out, I won the jackpot, totaling 50 million dollars. After graduation, I lived a carefree life, lounging at home and living off the interest. Meanwhile, after entering the company, my best friend was paid little and got bullied every single day. Eventually, she vented her anger on me and shoved me off a rooftop. I died from the fall instantly. After my death, my boyfriend covered for her, twisting the story to claim that I'd gone mad from idling too long and jumped on my own. The two of them fed on my misfortune, becoming influencers with millions of fans and raking in fortune. When I open my eyes again, I am reborn to the very day I bought that lottery ticket.

Everyone in the circle called me the chatty woman around Wilson Lewis, who had poor hearing and was notoriously aloof. I would stand up for him, take drinks on his behalf, and accompany him to the hospital. When he had to get his hearing aid adjusted, I would crouch beside the table to replace its batteries for him, yet he never so much as looked up at me. One time, I drank on his behalf until I was dead drunk at a wine party, but he only glanced down at me calmly. Another time, I spent the entire morning waiting with him on the day of his follow-up checkup, but he texted his unattainable love, Noelle Surrey, instead. Wilson: [Have you eaten lunch yet?] During our three years of marriage, I became a joke in the eyes of others. On the night of our wedding anniversary, he wanted to make things up for the birthday celebration he owed me. When I was being dragged away through the back alley of a convenience store, I saw him sitting in the Maybach parked at the alley entrance through the half-open car window, unboxing a cake. I screamed until my throat bled, my fingernails digging into the wall. He glanced up at the alleyway entrance, took off his hearing aid, and put it in his pocket. When I got home in the wee hours, he was still helping Noelle with her resume. Seeing my disheveled state, he just frowned and said, "Jaclyn Scott, can you please stop making such a scene every time?" Noelle chuckled on the other end of the phone. "Wilson, is she playing victim again?" I pushed the divorce papers and a USB drive in front of him. "Wilson, I'm done making a scene. This time, it's your turn to listen."