Best Bittersweet Stories & Novels Collection

"Baby, lend me Stella for the movie."
When my fiancé Damon said this, I thought it was the most romantic thing ever. My guide dog starring in his Oscar-worthy film—what a perfect love story.
I'm Aria Sinclair, 26-year-old blind film producer with perfect pitch and endless money, but no eyes. So when he said "The press will go crazy for our story," I stupidly agreed.
Three weeks later, in the editi...

"I'm pre.. pregnant." She was barely able to speak.

"What did you say?"

She stepped back trembling.

The look in his eyes shifted from lust and desire to hatred and anger.

"I..."

He cut her off; "I can’t be with you! Fucking you for few nights doesn’t mean I am gonna replave my Luna with you!"

"And?"

"Get out of here and abort the baby." He said bluntly!

He used her body like every nigh...

This scar—my original sin, and my ten years of loving you.
They all praise genius photographer Liam for capturing the beauty of souls, never knowing his inspiration comes from a scarred girl hiding behind masks—me.
He once said my wounds were angel wings, so I clung to that delusion, painting faces on cheap film sets day and night while he stood in spotlights, photographing supermodels I could nev...

I was just a waitress working double shifts to pay for my sister-in-law's cancer treatment, until that brooding businessman Marcus Blackwood walked into my diner—or rather, until his eight-year-old son Tommy accidentally spilled orange juice all over me, and I didn't lose my temper.
The next day, an expensive lawyer knocked on my door: "Mr. Blackwood needs a wife. You need money. This is a mutuall...

I thought I was saving a homeless man. I had no idea I was falling in love with Wall Street's most dangerous player.

When I found Ryan digging through garbage, he couldn't use my washing machine or figure out the coffee maker—a perfect man who needed my care. But why did he speak French like a native? Why did expensive watches keep "accidentally" appearing in his belongings?

When my family busin...

I thought winning the lottery would save our family. I never imagined it would destroy it.
When Colton held up that $3 million lottery ticket, I cried with relief—no more struggling with rent, finally our kids could have a good life. I even threw a BBQ to celebrate with all our trailer park neighbors.
But he stood on that picnic table and announced to everyone: "Winning this money made me realize ...

I died consumed by guilt. The archangel gave me a chance to be reborn, to right a single wrong: to return her destined love to my sister.
I watched her discuss art with him in a rehearsed, lifeless tone. I listened to her complain in the dead of night, "What's the point of these boring charity projects?" I buried the part of me that had connected with his soul in that coffee shop.
Until he gazed a...

Olivia Grace Harper is a 21-year-old first-year college student. What if she sees the guys she has been stalking over the years? But what if her crush? She has had one since middle school.
He hates her, and she is always there trying to grab his attention.
What if one night, he has had enough of her shit and does something he will regret for the rest of his life?
"What are you doing here, stalker?...

Tonight, delivering food to a private dining room, I pushed open the door and saw him.
Harold Sterling—the world's hottest supermodel. The man I abandoned three years ago.
He was telling his friend: "That vain woman? She was just a sugar mama who got bored and ran off. I'm only looking for her to ask why she humiliated me like that."
I desperately tried to escape, but—
Just as the elevator doors w...

On her wedding day, she was deliberately sabotaged! And this was just the beginning of revenge...
Today was supposed to be the most important day of Vera Sinclair's life. White dress, flower arch, ready to marry fire captain Caleb Morrison, the love of her life.
But her booked makeup artist suddenly had an "emergency," replaced by a complete stranger.
The woman's eyes held pure malice, yet she dis...

"Ryan, I'm dying. One month left. Can you handle my corpse?"

Three years ago, we fell in love in a Baghdad field hospital.
Three years later, I'm waiting to die in a shabby Manhattan apartment.

He thought I betrayed him for money, hated me for three whole years.
I thought he'd never forgive me, buried the truth for three whole years.

When the diagnosis arrived, when the death countdown began, I...

I'm dead. Murdered.

A year later, I wake up watching my boyfriend Miles engaged to that bitch Bliss, using MY songs for Grammy nominations.

I want revenge.

But why does Miles cry listening to my demos at midnight? Why are there mysterious recordings on his phone I've never heard? Why does every truth I find lead to bigger lies?

Those dead musicians—really accidents?

What secrets hide behind t...

Three years ago, I destroyed the only man I ever loved.

"You're not good enough for my world," I lied, watching Ethan Cross's heart shatter completely. Now he's back. Richer. More ruthless. Ready for revenge.

"Marry me, or watch your family lose everything."

Our marriage is his masterpiece of revenge. He flaunts his perfect girlfriend in our home, forcing me to watch him replace me with everyth...

I was auctioned off like merchandise by three men, but I don't know why they want a worthless person like me.

I'm a blind hooker who can't see anything, surviving only by selling my body.
After accidentally getting pregnant, my client humiliated me in public: "Two lines! You lying bitch trying to scam my money!" The owner immediately threw me out, and my begging on my knees was useless—who wants ...

I thought I saved him.
Six years ago, Marcus came back from Afghanistan broken, traumatized, plagued by nightmares. I was his therapist, walked him through every panic attack, broke every professional rule to fall for my own patient.
"Age is just a number," he used to say. "You saved my life, Sophia."
Now he tells his friends I'm "stale," that I'm too old at thirty-six, that my face shows wrinkles...

I thought returning to wealth meant happiness. I was wrong—it was the entrance to hell.
My celebrity husband Ryan uses me as his personal punching bag every night, calling it "method acting." Meanwhile, my perfect sister Stella whispers in his ear: "Ruby did everything during her street years. You need to show her where she belongs."
When I called for help while holding my three-year-old Lily, cry...

I thought seven years of marriage had given me a home, but I was just a supporting character in someone else's love story.
When I saw that ArtForum magazine, my heart nearly stopped—my mother's only legacy, Ansel Adams's signed Moonrise, Hernandez, was hanging on the wall behind Evangeline. She reclined elegantly on white Italian leather, her smile perfect like a victory announcement.
Adrian calle...