Tragic Romances Novels & Stories

Everyone in Palermo knew Alessandro De Luca had a reputation. He was the Boss of the De Luca family, one of the oldest bloodlines in Sicily — a name tied to the port, the courts, and half the construction contracts in Palermo. Wealth, power, discipline—those things were expected. Romance was not. He didn’t chase women, and he never went back to the same one twice. Until me. When we broke up after a brutal argument, he did something no De Luca had done in generations—he stood outside the gates of the Moretti estate, my family home, for an entire day and night. I watched from behind the curtains and never opened the door. The next day, he came inside the estate kitchen himself. Alessandro De Luca, who grew up surrounded by servants, tried to cook my favorite seafood pasta with his own hands. He burned the sauce. I threw it away without tasting it. On the third day, he found the necklace my grandmother had left me—something my uncle had sold years ago—and bought it back, paying far more than it was worth, just to return it to me. At a formal family dinner, in front of elders and allies, he made it clear: No more women. Only me. It took him a year to win me back. That summer, fireworks lit up the Palermo coastline as he announced our engagement. I believed he had chosen me. Until the night of a private gathering at an old harbor estate. A young woman was being pulled forward in the middle of the courtyard, her dress torn at the shoulder, tears running down her face. Alessandro went still. Then he stood up. He didn’t look at me. He didn’t explain. He just walked toward her. And something inside me went cold. I rested my hand over my abdomen. There was something I hadn’t told him yet. He broke his word that night. So I broke mine.

I hated my husband most in the moment he died for me, swallowed by the flames. Right before he took his last breath, he tore our marriage certificate in half, his eyes burning red. "If there's another life," he said, "I'd rather we never met." My whole body went rigid. Only then did I understand—he blamed me. Ten years ago, his childhood sweetheart and her family had been exiled. She had begged him for help. But that day, he'd gone with me on a trip and missed the chance to save her. And for ten long years, he held that grudge against me. After my husband's death, the world turned on me. Even my in-laws, who had always cared for me, looked at me with pure disgust. "If not for you, Russ wouldn't be dead. We wish you'd never been born!" I couldn't bear it anymore. I ended my life. I never expected that when I opened my eyes again, I would be back on the day Russ Williams came to propose. This time, I would do exactly as he wished. I would give everyone what they wanted.

"Velda Griffin is suspected to have allied with the rogues to harm Sienna Armstrong, the Luna-to-be. Today, she shall be sentenced to a memory trial." The huge memory crystal glints coldly on the tribunal. My ex-fiance, Alpha Lorcan Cillian of the Moonshadow pack, maintains an arrogant expression. There's nothing but disgust in his eyes. "All of the vile things that you've done shall be reflected on the memory crystal. Let the entire pack witness your true colors, you filthy bitch!" Sienna reclines against Lorcan's body, a smug smile etched on her face. She thinks my reputation will be completely tarnished. Although my limbs are bound with silver chains, a faint, relieved smile has appeared on my pale face. "Are you sure you want to see my memories, Lorcan? Once you start… there's no turning back."

Everyone knew I was hopelessly in love with Hendrick Sam, willing to sacrifice my dignity for him. In the two years we were together, he would drop everything and leave me in the hospital whenever his “one true love” called. People mocked me, saying, “Chloe, you must really enjoy being a doormat.” I just smiled and stayed silent. Later, when he was on his deathbed, he asked, “Chloe, did you ever really love me?” I turned my back on him. Because it was never him I loved, it was his heart.

I was the princess sent over by the Werewolf Kingdom for an arranged marriage. I was also meant to be the blood bag of Count Dracula. In my past life, I helped him rule the Bloodsucking Empire. I willingly allowed him to drain my werewolf blood and even risked a dangerous pregnancy by having a baby of mixed bloodline. However, all Dracula did was watch his frail childhood crush dig out the baby from my body to save her life. It was only before I died that I realized he had never loved me. All I was to him was a mobile blood bank. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the Blood Moon Party when I was five months pregnant. Dracula raised the knife with silver blade in his hand. "Be good. All I need is some blood to save Anna." This time, I did not fight back as I did in my previous life. Dracula mistook it for obedience. He had no idea that the Werewolf Princess who had once loved him with her life had become mates with the highly aggressive Alpha King of the Werewolf Kingdom.

Ean's face twisted with anger as he grabbed me by the arm, dragging me toward the old, rusted freezer in the corner of the warehouse. "You're going to feel what Helen felt," he spat. "Maybe that'll teach you not to mess with her." I struggled against him, panic rising in my chest. "Ean, this is insane! It was an accident! Let me explain—" He wasn’t listening. He shoved me inside the freezing metal box and slammed the door shut. The echo of the lock clicking into place made my heart pound in my ears. I banged on the door with my fists. "Ean, please! You can’t do this!" I screamed, but the sound of his footsteps grew fainter as he walked away. He left me with nothing but a single bowl of water, like I was some kind of prisoner. I slumped against the cold metal, shivering. The temperature plummeted almost instantly. The hum of the freezer kicked in, and I realized too late—it wasn’t broken like he thought. It was working, and I was trapped. My body shook uncontrollably as the cold seeped into my bones. I screamed for help until my throat was raw, clawing at the walls in desperation. My bloody handprints smeared across the icy surface, a silent plea for mercy that no one would hear. Seven days passed. When Ean finally returned, the look on his face was one of smug satisfaction. He had expected me to beg, to apologize. But when they pried open the freezer, all they found was my frozen body, stiff and silent, my suffering long over.

When James Chapman and I first got together, I was a regular student while he was one of the most popular guys in school. Five years down the road, I'm still a regular woman. James' attitude toward me has changed drastically, though. He frequently complains about my appearance. I know it's because his true love is back in the country. He misses our fifth anniversary because of her. His true love makes fun of me for being ugly to his face, so he orders me to get cosmetic surgery at her newly opened clinic. He wants me to use my fanbase to make her business boom. "You're so ugly that you'd be the perfect person to prove Barbara's skills… if she can actually make you look better, that is. We're all friends, aren't we? What's wrong with lending her a hand? Stop being so petty!" Barbara Simpson kills me—I die on the operating table in her inhumane clinic. James thinks I go missing because I'm just throwing a tantrum, but he realizes he's wrong when he finds my mangled body in the basement. The diamond ring he put on my finger is still there, too.

When I follow my boyfriend back to his hometown, I accidentally discover the wounds and scars all over his sister's body. Then, an old lady in the village tells me to flee as quickly as I can. This makes me shudder. Before I can process what's happening, I run into my long-lost best friend at my boyfriend's uncle's house. The way my boyfriend looks at me becomes increasingly creepy…

Kaelan noticed I hadn't filed a single medical or living expense request in the pack’s resource channel for a week. He must have thought I’d finally kicked my greedy human habits. At dinner, he tossed a black card at me. It cut a cold arc through the air, landing beside my plate. “Your father’s treatment for next month. The wolf gene serum, the lab fees—it’s all approved.” His voice was pure Alpha command. An order, not a suggestion. “Bringing you and your father here was a risk. I fought the Elders for you. You are my mate. Stop begging for pack funds like a common stray. It’s a bad look.” He didn’t know my fingers were ice-cold when I picked up the card. The papers to sever our mate bond were already signed. So was my will. The hoodie I wore when I left was a faded thing he’d tossed at me three years ago. No one would believe it. The fated mate of an Alpha who ran a corporate empire… had to send a photo of a $10 painkiller receipt to a Beta assistant for approval. All because he thought a fragile human like me was a leech who couldn’t be trusted with cash. But a week ago, when my father’s lupus caused his organs to fail, I needed $50,000. He needed a dose of pure gene repair serum, synthesized in the pack’s high-tech med-bay. I begged him on my knees. His childhood friend, Seraphina, just laughed. She froze my request, saying she was helping me break my bad habit of “cashing in on my mate status.” Kaelan never knew I endured that humiliation just so my father could stay alive in his top-tier medical lab. Now, my father was dead. The medicine was cut off, and his ashes were already in the ground. I didn’t need to be his obedient little pet anymore.

Five years ago, my junior made a mistake in the experiment, resulting in an explosion in the lab. In an effort to save my childhood friend, Andrew, I suffered severe burns to one side of my face and was falsely accused as the culprit. Just like that, I became the target of everyone's anger. Only Andrew stood by me, promising, "I love you for who you are, not your appearance. I'll always be there to protect you." But on our wedding day, he vanished without a trace. My mother, suffering from heart disease and barely clinging to life, wanted to see Andrew. When I asked him to come, he replied impatiently, "Are you using such a lame excuse to meet me? Don't you have any shame? Every time I look at your face, I feel disgusting." I pleaded desperately, but he calmly hung up. "Do you think I'm your servant? You can't just summon me whenever you want. Just because you saved me once doesn't mean you can blackmail me for life." My mother died without peace. The junior who slandered me back then later posted a photo on social media, showing a man lifting her effortlessly. Their poses were intimate, highlighting the underlying affection. Her captions read: [It's all his fault for tiring me out during the day. I almost missed out on this beautiful ocean. When you're in love, all is clear to see. I mentioned wanting to go to Belmar Island, and he flew me around the world for it.] I was utterly heartbroken, so I texted him: [Let's break up…]