Plot Twists Short Stories & Bias Awakening Novels

On our third wedding anniversary, Kent gave me a gift. A black metal wristband. Cold. Sleek. He called it a new product from his company—a pain-sharing system. The other user was Violet. His "girl bro." The person he was closer to than his own sister. Kent brushed a hand over my cheek, his gaze soft. "Clara, you're too coddled. You should learn from Violet. She's tough." Then he snapped the wristband onto my wrist. So while Violet got a full-back tattoo and an entire sleeve, I felt every single needle. When Violet went wingsuit flying, I collapsed at home. Every bone in my body felt shattered. I threw up blood. While she soaked up attention online as the "extreme sports queen," I was drowning in nonstop pain. Kent sat beside me, holding my hand as he cared. "Just hang in there. Violet's just being herself. As my wife, you should be more understanding." To finally push me over the edge, Violet decided to livestream herself jumping into the ocean to make me die in her place. Their friends couldn't wait to watch. Later, I watched calmly from a hospital room as the system slowly drained the life out of her. Kent looked deranged as he demanded to know why I wasn't dead. Because I had already reversed the system. All her vitality had become the nourishment that sustained me.

After suffering a devastating blow to the head, I unexpectedly regained my memories. Before I could share the good news with my wife, I overheard a conversation between her and the doctor. "Ms. Morgan, Mr. Johnson is showing signs of recovering his memory again. Do you still want us to inject him with the neurotoxin? This is already the tenth time. Mr. Johnson's father already went to prison after taking the blame for you, and his sister was forcibly committed to a psychiatric hospital. I know you want to protect Liam, but there's no need to do this to Mr. Johnson." "If Damien regains his memory, Liam's role in the hired attack will be exposed. His life will be ruined. Liam is innocent. He just wanted to prove himself. "Besides, Liam and I are about to get married. I won't allow anything to go wrong. "I promised Liam that he and Ben are the only family I have. I will never let them down. It doesn't matter if Damien becomes a fool. I'll hire the best caregivers and look after him as a cripple for the rest of his life. "Let me spend the rest of my life making it up to him." My entire body trembled in agony. So the people who destroyed my family had been right beside me all along. My father was sent to prison on false fraud charges. While trying to clear his name, I was attacked and left with memory loss. Since everything was nothing more than my own wishful thinking, I'll give them exactly what they want.

I've been in a long-distance relationship with Xavier Harrington for four years. Every time we meet up with each other, the first thing he says to me is, "You've gotten fatter… and shorter." When my friend finds out about it, she jokes to me, "Maybe he has another girlfriend who's taller and thinner than you." It's supposed to be a joke, and yet I take it seriously. It explains why I've decided to travel a span of 1,800 miles just to seek Xavier out at the city he's stationed to. But that's when I accidentally stumble upon Xavier going on a stroll with a young woman side by side. I trail behind them, only to see them going to a cafe that's filled with people. There, they line up so that they can snap commemorative photos. However, whenever Xavier's hanging out with me, he often turns my suggestions down impatiently. To him, lining up at such places is a waste of time. Later on, Xavier and the woman secure a table in a restaurant. There, Xavier pulls out a chair for her before he starts setting out the cutlery for her. Even when the food is served, he will subconsciously push the woman's favorite dish in her direction. For the first time ever in our relationship of eight years, I find out that Xavier can be caring when he feels like it. I watch as Xavier chats animatedly with the woman at the table. He shares everything with her, be it the irritating experiences at work or the funny and interesting incidents that have happened to him so far. Then, I lower my head to look at the short text messages Xavier has sent to me in the past. "Time for work. It's lunch time. I'm about to nap." Suddenly, I find my relationship with Xavier extremely boring, so I dig out the invitation sent by my company regarding their outstation request and tap on it. After all, I no longer want anything to do with this flawed relationship anymore.

I am someone with a strong desire to share every little detail with my lover. The blush of dawn outside the safe house window, a slightly-too-bitter espresso, the new flower shop on the corner. Even if Carlo's shadow just flickered through my mind for a moment, I couldn't stop myself from hitting send. His replies were always brief, but they were instant. I used to think that was just how a cold man like him showed his love. That all changed seven days before the wedding, when I found an AI auto-responder on the burner phone he never let out of his sight. It broke down every sentence I sent, categorizing them and extracting keywords to generate the most perfectly dismissive answers. When I said I missed him, it replied, "Behave." When I said I was scared, it replied, "I'll handle it." When I wanted to argue, it replied, "Be sensible." So, for half a year, the one replying to my messages was never Carlo. Meanwhile, in another chat window, the messages between him and another woman were piled high. From simple good mornings to random midnight thoughts, From secret talks about family business to whether they should take the yacht out on the weekend. I finally understood. Carlo wasn't a cold person. It wasn't that he didn't like to share his life; he just didn't want to share it with me. And I finally decided to make a heartbroken exit from this absurd charade.

In my previous life, Timothy Yance's female best friend, Selina Sunther, provoked me during my and Timothy's anniversary dinner. "Rosalie, Timothy got super drunk two days ago, and I was the one who helped him change his underwear. But we're really close buddies, so don't think too much about it." I completely lost my composure at that time, resulting in me hurling my wedding ring away and tearing the marriage certificate into pieces. Later on, I gave up on all of our joint assets just so I could stay away from the shameless pair. In the end, I died in a rehabilitation center located in another country. No one bothered to reach out to me at all. After I got buried, Timothy and Selina worked together to build their business empire. Everyone sang praises about their ethereal love for each other. While people were envious of them for being such a perfect couple, they showed nothing but disdain and mockery toward me when I was mentioned. "Timothy's ex-wife never knew how to appreciate him. No wonder she wasn't worthy of him." When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the night of the anniversary dinner. This time, I just smile serenely at Selina instead of breaking down. Then, I turn to link arms with my male best friend, Calvin Solt, whom I've specifically invited to dinner. I even rest my cheek on his chest. Timothy's expression changes drastically, whereas Selina's smile freezes on her face. Calvin merely smiles faintly before he raises his glass to Timothy as a toast. "Don't misunderstand our relationship, Timothy. Rosalie and I have known each other for 20 years, so we're used to taking care of each other. "Heck, I was also the one taking care of Rosalie the whole time on our first night together, be it in bed or the aftercare."

Kelly and I had been in a long-distance relationship for three years. After working overtime for a month to make time so I could see her, she could not be reached. I waited alone in that unfamiliar place for ten whole hours before I finally got a reply from her. My best friend, Hayden, called me and said gleefully, "Zachary, surprise! I've already explored Stranton for you. It's amazing. Kelly is a great tour guide!" He excitedly shared his experiences, as if he had not noticed the 30 missed calls I left on Kelly's phone. I listened quietly until he mentioned feeling cold. Kelly took the phone and said bluntly, "I'll take him back to the hotel first. Give us a minute." After she finished speaking, I asked, "Do you know how long I've been waiting?" Kelly paused, her tone turning cold. "He's your friend. Are you really going to make a fuss out of this?" The blatant rebuke completely extinguished my desire to reply. After hanging up, my ride back to Jazzville arrived. The driver glanced at me and could not help but say, "Young man, it's the middle of the night. This area is quite dangerous. What urgent matter kept you waiting until now?" Looking at my shoes, which had been soaked by the snow, I softly replied, "It was urgent at the time." Then, I smiled and continued, "But not anymore."

It was near the end of May when I got off my night shift and got a call from my younger self, right before the SAT. "Eight years from now, am I happy? Am I living abroad, or working at Collins Corporation? "Charlotte said I don't need the SAT. She's taking me overseas." He sounded excited, already planning to spend the next few days doing whatever he wanted. I looked down at the grease on my uniform. Behind me was a cramped factory dorm, a cramped room packed with 12 beds. "Charlotte's getting married today," I said. "But you're not the groom." He sucked in a breath. "That's impossible. She said she'd marry me." Last night, Charlotte Collins texted me. [Don't come tomorrow. You work at a factory. You'll embarrass me.] His voice caught. "Who is it? Do I know him?" I said calmly, "Open the math worksheet in your bag. Finish it, and I'll tell you who she's marrying."

I was pregnant with Alpha Jaxon's heir. His childhood friend, Hattie, volunteered to drive me to the Pack Medical Center for a checkup. On the bridge over Wolf’s Hollow River, she didn't hesitate. She yanked the steering wheel right into the rusty guardrail. I didn't fight her for the wheel like I did in my past life. Because in my last life, I stopped the crash, but she was thrown from the car into the rapids. They never found her body. My Alpha claimed he didn't blame me. He even ground evening primrose by hand every day to soothe the pup, his eyes full of tender anticipation for our baby. But on the day I gave birth to his heir, he forced me and our newborn pup into his car, slammed his foot on the gas, and drove us straight into the raging sea. "She wouldn't have died if you hadn't gone insane with jealousy and grabbed the wheel! Did you think playing the victim would fool me? " "You like staging 'accidents', don't you? Then let's see how you like the freezing depths of the river!" When I opened my eyes again, I was back in Hattie's out-of-control sports car.

I packed the last of my things from the apartment into a box and sent my fiancé, William, a voice message. [Let's break up.] A second later, he replied, [OK.] Across from me, my cousin Mia almost spilled her martini on the tablecloth. "You two were together for seven years, about to get engaged, and it's over just like that? How is it that when I dump a guy, it turns into a whole dramatic saga?" "Still, I have to admire you. Giving up your life as the family’s Princess to build everything from scratch with him." I slowly stirred my coffee, the bitter taste flooding my mouth. "Because he never listens to my voice messages." I tossed my phone onto the table and pushed it toward her. Her eyes landed on the screen, on a long list of unplayed voice messages. For the past seven years, my conversations with William had been a one-way street. The rare 'Mm' from him was the most enthusiastic response I could hope for. I had grown used to his cold nature long ago. Until I saw a long voice message on his phone, played in its entirety. It was from his childhood friend, Tessa. In that moment, I finally let go of the sliver of hope I had been clutching for seven years. And now, it was time for me to return to the Miller family as its heiress.

When Luca Moretti chose the jewelry for our wedding, he still bought two pieces and let my twin sister Bianca choose first. One was a ruby cuff from a Sicilian auction. The other was an off-the-rack black onyx bracelet, the kind sold in every mall jewelry store. For the first time, I reached before Bianca could. I pointed at the ruby cuff. "This time, can I choose first?" Luca set his palm on my head with the easy affection he used to make me behave. "Bianca has always been stubborn about quality. If it's not the best, she won't take it. You don't care about this stuff, Elena. The other piece isn't bad." I didn't answer right away. Something inside my chest went quiet. In my own family, Bianca always got the first slice, the clean seat, and the room with the view. My mother said she needed the best because she carried the Bellini name better. My father called it practical. Marriage worked that way too. The Bellinis and Morettis had promised one daughter to the Moretti heir long before either of us knew what love was. Everyone assumed that daughter would be Bianca. Instead, she made her position crystal clear: she'd rather keep her freedom and her spotless public image than become Mrs. Moretti. So Luca turned to the remaining Bellini daughter. I had known Luca for twenty years, and in his world, I always stood behind Bianca. I looked at the black onyx bracelet on the table and pushed it back. "Bianca can have both. I'm not choosing." I didn't want another leftover choice. Not anymore.

I come from an old-money family. My grandfather's will was ironclad: whoever gets an Ivy League acceptance letter unlocks 25% of a massive trust fund and a seat on the family board. Out of four siblings, I was the only one who stood a chance. Every night, my mother Victoria carefully made me a cup of "organic brain-boosting matcha." My twin sister Chloe and younger brother Mason never got that privilege. The night before the December SAT—the last chance for Regular Decision Ivy scores—Victoria handed me my green matcha as usual. The next day, my mind went completely blank during the test. I blacked out. I missed that application season. Meanwhile, Chloe—who spent her time at yacht parties and couldn't read an equation—miraculously got an offer from UPenn and sailed right onto the board. The second year, right before the test, my snobby cousin Brianna reached for my matcha. Victoria slapped her hand away and screamed: "Don't touch Ava's things!" That exam, I got severe stomach cramps and was rushed to the ER by ambulance. I had to drop out again. And Brianna—who only cared about designer bags—somehow got into Cornell and took her board seat. The whole family popped champagne in our Upper East Side penthouse. I became the laughingstock of Manhattan's elite, having missed two application seasons in a row. Why did my body crash like clockwork, right at the final, life-changing SAT? Prepping for the third time, I took no chances. For three days before the test, I ate only gluten-free detox meals controlled by a private nutritionist. But the night before the big test, Victoria smiled and brought me that familiar cup of green matcha.

To cash in on a massive life insurance policy, my wife Vanessa Rowe pushed me into the Demon Pit. She had been seeing someone behind my back for a long time, and killing me had been her way to buy her lover a gold sports car. I stood at the edge of the abyss and looked at her one last time. “You are sure about this? Killing me for him. No regrets?” Vanessa laughed and held on to Troy Merritt’s arm. “Regrets? Why would I have regrets? Troy is one of the Demon King’s most trusted men. He only has to put in a word for me, and I get to stay young forever. “You are only a mortal. You age, you get sick, you die. What made you think you ever deserved me?” She shoved me over the edge without a second thought. She did not know that I had been the Demon King. The Demon Pit had been my domain. As for this so‑called trusted man of mine, I had never heard of him.

Whenever Jacob called my name, his first instinct was always to utter his ex's name, "Anna". On our first anniversary, the gift he gave me was written: [Anna, let’s be together forever.] When we were intimate, he couldn't stop himself from whispering in my ear, "Anna, tell me you love me." Every time he called me by the wrong name, I could only helplessly reiterate, "My name is Anya, not Anna." Over time, Jacob probably felt some shame. Before addressing me, he would pause to think for a moment, and then successfully say my name, "Anya." Just when I thought he had finally stopped confusing the two of us, Anna suddenly returned. From then on, whenever Jacob introduced me to the rest of the pack, he called me "Anna" more frequently than ever. Even during our mating ceremony, as he held out the ring to me, he called out, "Anna, will you be my mate?" Looking at Jacob standing before me, I didn't bother to correct him this time. Since the name he called wasn't mine, I shouldn't be the one to accept.

Three days ago, my vampire fiancé, Clan Lord Raven Ashford, took his aide Vera on a private overnight trip to the southern border and gave her the seat reserved for his betrothed. He expected me to make a scene. I didn’t. I had stopped fighting a month ago. A year's worth of small surrenders had finally added up to something I could no longer ignore. He handed the border treaty I had negotiated myself to Vera, thinking I would appeal to the elders. Instead, I organized the handover documents and sent them over. He dismantled the territorial affairs I had managed for years, piece by piece, to pave Vera's way forward. I said nothing. I took the blame that was mine, accepted the cold looks, and let it all pass. At the banquet, he seated Vera beside him. He nodded more at her words than at mine. He thought I had finally accepted it, thought I was afraid to lose him. Then he came to me with offers. A manor in the south. Hunting grounds in the west. The family ring that should finally go on my finger. For the first time, he initiated these things himself, speaking as though granting me rewards. I asked for nothing. The dissolution papers he had already signed were buried among the documents he approved without reading. Those papers contained two declarations: the end of our betrothal and my departure from the clan. He never noticed. He still believed I was his betrothed, still waiting. I wasn't.

Just as I was on the verge of miscarriage from a fall, my husband—New York's most powerful Don—was throwing a lavish birthday gala for his childhood sweetheart, Camilla. I called, begging for help, but he dismissed it as a cheap stunt and coldly hung up. As his wife, I bore the honor of being the Donna—yet no one knew I couldn't even scrape together a thousand dollars. All because, to "train" me into a proper Donna, he had handed total control of my life and finances straight to Camilla. Desperate, I begged anyone who would listen. But by the time I finally scraped the money together, my baby's heartbeat stopped forever. After waking up in that hospital bed, I dragged myself back to his penthouse to pack my bags. That was when I stumbled upon the auction receipt for Camilla's birthday gift. A ten-million-dollar mansion in Beverly Hills, plus endless custom jewelry. Just then, his deep, raspy voice drifted from the study next door. He was on a call with his underbosses. "Boss, was Scarlett really at the hospital begging you for a grand?" Cassius scoffed. "Scarlett is my Donna. She has my men guarding her 24/7. How could anything possibly happen to her? She's just pulling a cheap stunt for attention. Camilla is right. I've spoiled Scarlett too much lately. If Camilla isn't strict with her, how is an orphan going to earn the Famiglia's respect? She'll understand my good intentions later." Tears slipped down my face. Fuck his rules. Fuck his Donna. The second the doctor called my baby's time of death, I decided I was out of his life—never to return.

The day my son, Nathan Cardin, turns one month old, we are both kidnapped. Our kidnapper demands that I call my wife, Jennifer Surton, so that he can demand ransom money. Since the phone is placed on loudspeaker mode, everyone can hear her scoff. "Asking for money again? You sure are going all out with your act this time." I'm about to explain when I suddenly hear someone sigh and lament. [Oh dear, how did I end up with the same start even after being reborn? Daddy is completely unaware that Mommy is currently busy gathering funds, after her first love claimed that he's now burdened with substantial debt due to helping her with her company.] Just as I'm wondering who said that, a man's voice comes over the phone call. "Jen, save me!" The call is abruptly cut off. While the kidnapper dials Jennifer's number over and over again, I hear that voice speak once more. It sounds incredibly young. [Daddy, don't bother wasting your energy. In our previous life, Mommy came to rescue us with the money, which resulted in her first love getting killed by his debtors. In her terrible grief, she set us both on fire and burned us to ashes.] Dozens of tries later, Jennifer finally picks up again. "Can't you be a little more understanding? What do you think is more important—Rick's life or you buying a new car?" Gazing at Nathan nearby, I grit my teeth and answer, "Go and save Hendrick. He's more important." In my mind, I vowed, "Don't be scared, son. I'll make sure that we both live on in this life."

I was the eldest daughter of the Beta. But my parents hid me away. My mother shoved the tray into my hands. She lowered her voice and hissed. "Your wolf is dead," my mother hissed. "You're a disgrace. Stay in the corner. Do the Omega work. Don't embarrass us." My brother, Caleb, frowned at me. "Chloe worked hard for her Silvercrest offer. Nothing can ruin her night. If the other families find out you can't even shift, we'll be a laughingstock." Then there was Julian. My fated mate. The Alpha heir of our pack. His voice was cold and sharp, as always. "Harper, tonight is the most important night of Chloe's life. Be good. Don't cause trouble." Today was the day the academy offers were announced. But my family only held a celebration for my adopted sister, Chloe. I gripped the rough fabric of my uniform. A bitter taste filled my mouth. Was I not good enough already? I was twelve when my wolf first awakened. I showed a rare healing gift. But Chloe lost her mind. She grabbed a silver blade and cried. She threatened to hurt herself. My whole family glared at me. They accused me of showing off. They said I crushed her ego. Since then, I learned to suppress my wolf. I used foul-smelling herbs to mask my scent. For six years, I endured their cold stares. I pretended to be a cripple. A useless wolf who couldn't even shift. But this time was different. The secret trials for the Lycan Healer Academy in the Royal Capital. It was the top school in the North. Every healer's ultimate dream. I watched them crowd around Chloe. Their faces glowed with pride and joy. The news of my acceptance letter died in my throat. Fine. If they thought I was just a useless loser, I didn't need to tell them my plans. In three days, I was leaving the pack. I was flying thousands of miles away to the Royal Capital.

On the day our couple channel hit thirty million followers, the milestone video was supposed to be my official debut on camera. I woke up at five in the morning to do my makeup and tried on a dozen different dresses. However, right before the cameras rolled, Julian stopped me. "Willow, let's have Evangeline do it instead. She's just more camera-ready. The fans will love her." Evangeline was my best friend. I stood frozen for a long time, but in the end, I simply nodded. From that day on, Julian and Evangeline played a romantic couple on screen for three years. I stood behind the lens, writing their scripts, setting up their lighting, and editing every single frame. I watched the comment section explode day after day. [They look so deeply in love! My favorite ship ever!] And I watched Julian hold Evangeline's hand with more and more ease. Until the night of our three-year anniversary stream, when the host asked them a question live on camera. "When was the exact moment you two felt the strongest spark for each other?" Julian and Evangeline smiled in perfect sync. "The very first day we shot together on camera." In an instant, the live stream chat erupted into wild cheers and screams. Sitting in the dark corner of the studio behind the control monitor, my heart sank. They had spent three years pretending to be in love, and I was the only fool who treated it like an act. As soon as the broadcast wrapped, I logged into the channel dashboard and revoked all my admin access. Then, I opened an email invitation for an overseas film project I had received two weeks ago and accepted it. From now on, I was done writing their love story.

When my Alpha heir fiancé, Weston, chose jewelry for our bonding ceremony, he did what he always did, buying two of everything so my twin sister, Riley, could pick first. One was a moonstone necklace, blessed by a High Witch. The other was a simple onyx choker, the kind of cheap trinket you could find anywhere in the pack market. For the first time, I spoke before Riley could make her choice. I pointed to the moonstone necklace. "This time, can I choose first?" Weston's palm settled on the crown of my head, his voice a low, soothing rumble. "Riley is the jewel of your pack. She is meant to shine and deserves things worthy of a princess. You don't care about these things, Lyra. The choker suits you better. Quiet, unassuming." I didn't say a word, but something inside me crumbled to dust. In this family, Riley always got the first cut of roasted venison and the room with the best sunlight. My mother said Riley was the pack's glory and deserved the best, while my father called it survival of the fittest. Our two packs had arranged this alliance long ago, and everyone assumed his mate would be Riley. But she despised being tied down and yearned for freedom, so Weston settled for me. I had known Weston for twenty years. In his world, I would always be Riley's stand-in. I looked down at the choker and pushed it away. "If Riley wants them, she can have both. I don't want either." I was done with leftovers, and that included my Alpha mate.

When I handed in my resignation, my supervisor said, "Mr. Foster promised to marry you once you made director. You're only one promotion away, so why quit now?" I looked down at my pant legs, the hems still soaked from the puddles outside. "Because of an umbrella." My mind went back to yesterday. Rain was pouring down, and I was stranded at the office entrance without an umbrella. Mark Foster's new assistant, Rachel Lynch, was stuck there too. Mark came downstairs carrying a single umbrella. He didn't hesitate before offering to share it with Rachel. After all, no one would read anything into the two of them being seen together. He looked at me and said flatly, "Erin, because we're together, sharing an umbrella would only get people talking. It's not worth it." I stood frozen for a long moment, watching them walk away beneath the same umbrella. Then I ran straight into the rain. In the ten years Mark and I had been together, he had fallen back on the same excuse more times than I could count. "Since we're together, we have to be careful about how things look." That was why I always came and went alone, while every promotion passed me by. Now, even sharing an umbrella with him was apparently too much to ask. By the time my resignation was official, the rain had eased to a drizzle. This time, I opened my own umbrella and walked away, calm and unhurried. I didn't need his anymore. It was never meant to shelter me anyway.