Plot Twists Short Stories & Bias Ambiguous Novels

The clock was ticking with twelve minutes left before the ceremony was supposed to begin. The wedding car that my bride, Teagan, and I sat in stopped at the curb. The church doors stood open a hundred yards away, ready for our arrival. My parents and relatives were gathered outside with the officiant, photographer, wedding coordinator, and the rest of the bridal party. The wedding coordinator’s voice came through my earpiece. “Parker, you’re clear to head in. We’re starting at 9 sharp.” I was about to tell the driver to go when the door of the groomsmen’s SUV behind us swung open. “Hold up. I forgot my tie.” That was enough to halt the entire procession. Teagan unbuckled her seat belt and stepped out. “Oh, no! It won’t look good in the picture if a groomsman is missing a tie.” Standing by the SUV, Luke looked at me with a smile. “Parker, have the driver wait a minute. I can’t show up at your wedding in a white and collar sticking out. I will make you look bad.” He then turned to Teagan. “Don’t I have a spare tie kept with you? Can you help me find it?” Teagan nodded and dumped her bouquet on me, just to dig through the bags at the back of the car. Silence gripped the air. My mother’s face went white. I held the bouquet, my eyes fixating on Teagan. “We’re going to be late for our wedding, Teagan. We can still make it if we go now.” Teagan frowned. “I’m already here anyway. What’s a few minutes?” As Teagan went on a mission to get Luke a tie, I broke into a smile. Turning around, I held my phone and texted a number I had almost forgotten. “Don’t you want to marry me? Be at the church at 9. I’ll be waiting for you.”

We finally made it to the County Clerk's Office with only fifteen minutes to spare before they stopped processing marriage licenses. Our friends were already gathered at the bottom of the steps, urging us to go inside. "Come on, get in there! After everything you two have been through, you finally made it in time for the eighth try!" My best friend, Ryan Chapman, had red-rimmed eyes as he reached over and straightened my tie for me. I was just about to walk inside when Chester Snyder, Melissa's childhood friend, suddenly spoke from the back seat. "Wait. My lucky bracelet broke. I need to fix it first." I stopped. Melissa stopped, too. "Okay. No rush." Chester lowered his head and began adjusting the bracelet, then looked up at me with a smile. "Don't worry, Zane. I will have it fixed in a minute. "I made these lucky bracelets especially for the two of you. They are supposed to bring good luck and help keep your marriage smooth." When he finished, he casually handed his phone to Melissa. "Can you hold this for me?" Melissa took it without a word. The chatter around us suddenly died. The friends who had been cheering us on moments ago exchanged uneasy looks. I looked at Melissa. "Melissa, the County Clerk's Office stops processing marriage licenses at five. "If we go in now, we will make it just in time." Melissa frowned and glanced at the time. "I'm already here. A few more minutes won't make a difference." I watched her stand beside the car, patiently waiting while Chester fixed his bracelet. Then, suddenly, I smiled. I lowered my head, took out my phone, and sent a message to a number I knew by heart. [You said that if the eighth attempt failed, you'd consider giving me a chance.] [Get to the County Clerk's Office before five.]

My fiancee tossed me onto a remote island just because I accidentally smashed the cup of my adopted brother. "Please, let me go home, Yvonne Johnson! There are beasts here! I'll die!" I kept pleading until my phone was dead. The only response I got was, "I'll let you go after Harold's not angry anymore." A month later, Harold joked with his friends, "I bet Christian's looking real primitive now. How about we check him out?" The only thing left on the island was a skeleton that wore my clothes.

Claire was known for her strong sense of principle and her strict adherence to rules and punctuality. Everyone knew she never made exceptions for anyone. Yet, when it came to getting married, she had stood Mark up eight separate times. The first time was because her friend from college, Ryan, returned after eight years living abroad, and she had to pick him up at the airport. The second time, Ryan slightly burned his finger while cooking, so she abandoned Mark on their way to the city hall just to check Ryan was all right. The third time, Ryan’s son fell ill, and she rushed over in a panic to drive the kid to the hospital. Now, this was the eighth time. Once again, she was a no-show. All she gave Mark was a rushed phone call, saying, “I have an emergency. I’ll be late.” Mark watched as everyone who came after him got married until the clerk behind the window tapped on the glass. “Son, where’s your fiancée? We’re closing soon.” Just as he was about to dial her number again, a text from Claire popped up on his screen. [I can’t make it to the city hall this afternoon. Let’s do this another day.] As Mark read the message, an indescribable pang of sadness hit him. He was about to put his phone away and leave when a new Instagram feed update caught his eye. It was a post from Ryan uploaded just moments ago. In the photo, Ryan was beaming at the camera. Right next to him stood Claire, holding his son in her arms and gazing up at Ryan with tender affection. The caption read, “Leo wanted to spend the day at the amusement park. A big thank you to Claire for keeping us company the whole time!”

My mother and sister never liked me. The only son they ever truly cared about was my older brother, Lucian Vieri. Before she married me, Serafina Valcieri, the only daughter of one of the most feared syndicates in the country, was always the one who stepped in when I was cornered, mocked, or blamed for things that were never mine to carry. She never said much. She just made people back off. Then she married me. Then, not long ago, Lucian shoved me off a ski slope. I said he meant to kill me. My mother called it an accident. My sister said he had only been trying to save me. Only Serafina believed me. When I woke up in the hospital, I heard voices outside the door. “Who told you to do it like that?” Serafina said, her voice low and cold. My mother answered in a panic. “Lucian’s leukemia can’t wait. If Cassian learns the baby isn’t his, everything falls apart.” Then Serafina said the words I still can’t forget. “I chose him, and I married him for my own reasons. But Lucian still needs this child. If anything had happened to Cassian, none of you would have walked away from it.” I stood there in silence, listening to every word. The child my wife was carrying was never mine. It had been conceived through IVF to save my brother. And the marriage I had trusted from the beginning had never belonged to me alone. I had spent my whole life coming second to Lucian. I just never thought Serafina would be the one to prove it. If no one truly wanted me, then I would leave.

For three years, I slept with my father’s head of security behind everyone’s back. Last night, with one hand at my throat and the other under my dress, he finally asked for a name, a future, something real. “After graduation,” I whispered against his mouth. “Let me finish my defense first. Then we’ll tell them.” “No.” By then I was shaking beneath him on the leather seat. “Then sooner. On my birthday next Friday. I’ll stop hiding then... Cassian, please—gentler...” That seemed to satisfy him. His mouth softened against my skin, and his voice dropped low against my ear. “Good girl. I just want you too much.” The next afternoon, I met my best friend for tea. The moment she opened the passenger door, she spotted the torn foil packet caught beside the seat and lifted a brow. “Bourbon cherry?” she said, already grinning. “That’s our company’s unreleased line. So this is what you’ve been hiding.” I snatched it up and shoved it into my bag. “It’s not public yet.” She frowned. “That’s the strange part. We only sent those samples to a handful of VIP clients.” Then she pulled out her phone. “I did a product follow-up with one of them yesterday, and his private account was basically a shrine to his girlfriend.” She turned the screen toward me. I only looked once, and my whole body went cold. The man in the photo had a line of Latin script inked low across his abdomen. I knew that tattoo. I had kissed it the night before. My fingers started shaking as I opened the private account Cassian had never shown me. April 4. The conservatory. Me and him. April 7. The upstairs studio. Me and him again. April 11—last night. A six-second clip in the back of the car.

On the day my boyfriend, Antonio Vinci, proposes to me, his adoptive sister, Lucia Falcone, remarks on a whim, "How romantic. It makes me want to get married now as well." On the very same night, Antonio gives me an agreement. "You should leave. Here's a 50-million-dollar compensation. I'm going to get married soon." If this were to happen in the past, I'd have kicked up a huge ruckus and threatened to take my own life if Antonio didn't marry me. But now, I just ask for another 50 million dollars calmly. When I'm about to sign the agreement, I hear Antonio talking on the phone in another language. "Thank goodness I gave Daniela a marriage agreement. Otherwise, she'd seriously think I'd break up with her. I knew that Daniela would be perfect as my wife. She's obedient and docile, just like a loyal mutt. "As for Lucia, I can give her everything but a legitimate position by my side." My hand pauses momentarily. Then, I scribble Lucia's name on the agreement. What Antonio doesn't know is that I have an ongoing bet with Lucia. If I can ensnare Antonio's heart in ten years, she will back out of our relationship. If I fail to do so, I'll disappear permanently from their lives.

The day I was diagnosed with emotional dependency disorder, my doctor told me, "Your world can't exist without Ms. Reynolds's love." And so Audrey Reynolds became my emotional anchor. She put me first in everything, even turning down important projects just to stay by my side through treatment. It wasn't until the day my condition finally stabilized that she smiled again. Her childhood friend, Damon Walsh, smiled too. "I told you it couldn't have been that serious. Wasn't Preston just doing all this on purpose to keep Audrey tied to him?" That was the first time Audrey ever hit Damon. She forced him to apologize to me. But on the day Damon went to the bar, I only quietly said that my heart was racing. Audrey suddenly slammed the medication bottle down. "Can you stop being so selfish? Damon is devastated after his breakup! I spend every day revolving around you. Is it really too much to ask that I spend a few hours taking care of him? "If you want to have another episode, then go ahead! I've had enough!" She kicked all the medication across the floor, grabbed her car keys, and stormed out, slamming the door behind her. I said nothing. I only stared at the red marks I'd scratched into my wrist from anxiety as my breathing grew more and more difficult.

My girlfriend, Quinn Simmons, my best friend, Seth Johnson, and I were one the outs. When I apologized to Quinn, she just fingered her nails. Then I tried to talk to Seth. He scrolled through his phone and turned a deaf ear to me. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place. I begged for their forgiveness, but my efforts were fruitless. In high school, Quinn and Seth asked me which electives I intended to take. Seth gave me the cold shoulder for a whole month after I chose the same electives as Quinn. Seth threw the 20 apology letters that I wrote for him into the trash, saying, "I don't really care. You two are a couple. I'm not forcing you to choose the same electives with me." During our university days, both Quinn and Seth rented places off campus and asked me to move in with them. When I chose Seth, Quinn chased me out of her place with a frosty expression, saying, “Go find your new roommate. Just leave me alone.” Quinn's disregard lasted two months. I kept chasing after her, trying to coax her the whole time. One day, I accidentally tumbled down the stairs. My whole body shook as I clutched my injured leg, but Quinn didn’t even spare me a single glance. She just stepped over me. Ten minutes ago, we were choosing a movie to watch. Quinn wanted to watch a sci-fi film, while Seth wanted to watch a romance movie. They asked me to choose again. In the end, after I chose a comedy, they spent the entire time ignoring me and chatting among themselves. "I want to watch a romance movie," Seth said while looking at Quinn. "It's fine if you don't." Quinn scoffed. "Can you watch something logical for once? What's so interesting about a romance movie anyway?" As Seth rolled his eyes, a flash of panic flickered across Quinn's eyes. She sighed and said, "Fine. We'll watch whatever you want to watch." I stood rooted to the spot, clutching the three tickets for the comedy movie. Suddenly, I didn't feel like watching the movie anymore.

I had been married to Natasha Bates for ten years, and not once did she ever join me for our family's Independence Day cookout. This year, on the night before the celebration, I finally gathered the courage to ask if she wanted to come. She scoffed and said, "What are you, stuck in the past? Who even celebrates the Fourth with a family dinner anymore?" Yet that very evening, I saw a social media post of Natasha with her male best friend, Stanley Rogers. They were quite intimate in the picture, and the caption read: [True happiness is celebrating Independence Day with your bestie!] I commented back: [Hope you two lovebirds make it official soon.] Stanley did not hold back. He messaged me a bunch of intimate photos of the two of them. Then, he added, [You're just a leech living off his wife. What right do you have to question anything about Nattie?] Everyone always thought I was a gold-digger living off Natasha's success. However, they all forgot that I was the sole major shareholder of the company. This time, I’m done staying silent.

In our village, once the girls turn 16, they must begin fasting and take a secret formula to produce bloodstones. My mother says this is the necessary path for a girl to become a rabbit-woman. It is also the most important thing in her life. On the day my sister turns 16, a rabbit tail grows from her tailbone. She no longer has to work in the fields. She only needs to lie in her room each day and take the formula. From that very night on, I see one man after another—sometimes several at once—enter her room. Before long, the sounds of heavy breathing begin to come from inside...

I served three years in federal prison for the Don's precious Sophia, and then he suddenly fell for me. The day he came to pick me up, he had a sapphire necklace ready, the kind I'd begged him for once and never got. I dropped it onto the back seat without a second glance. His expression darkened. "If you have something to say, just say it. Don't take it out on things." I smiled. "Three years inside taught me never to keep anything valuable on me. It would only bring trouble." He swallowed hard and pulled me close. "That's over now. You have me. Whatever you want, I'll get it for you." I pushed him back. "Then give me my wedding ring." I'd told him once: if the day ever came that I was leaving, I'd take that ring with me. Three years had been more than enough to kill whatever love I had left.