Cerita Pendek & Novel Bias Awakening

"Ryder, are you seriously leaving Mona behind and moving abroad?" In the quiet café, Ryder Kane set down his spoon and look at his best friend, Harry Crain, who's staring at him in disbelief. "Mona and I are already divorced." "Divorced?" Harry looks stunned. Then his expression turns angry. "And she actually agreed to it? You've treated her so well these past three years! Even a rock would've warmed up to you by now. Does she seriously have no feelings for you at all?" Ryder give Harry a faint smile, though the truth is, he's not even sure Mona Brent realizes what she's agreed to. Two weeks ago, Ryder handed Mona the divorce papers. She signed them while taking a phone call, barely listening to him before rushing off. She hasn't mentioned them since. In another two weeks, the divorce will be finalized, and he'll finally be free. Just as he's about to answer Harry, a woman's gentle voice comes from behind them.

My six-year-old son fed me the cake that triggered my allergy and killed his unborn sister. He was smiling when he confessed, as if he had done something wonderful. “Aunt Vivienne said the baby would go back to the Moon Goddess. Then you and Daddy could break your mate bond, and she could stay with us instead. That way, Aunt Vivienne would have more time to play with me!” My heart clenched. I couldn't hold back anymore. “But Mommy and your sister can play with you, too. Can't we?” “Yeah, but…” He hesitated, searching for the right words. “But it's boring when I'm with you, Mommy. Daddy and I have more fun with Aunt Vivienne.” The words hit me like a blow. For a long moment, I couldn't say a word. My mate, Adrian, stripped Finn of his heir badge, suspended his Alpha training, and sent him to a pack therapist. But when I asked him to investigate the adult who had given our son the cake and taught him how to deceive me, Adrian stepped between us. “Vivienne chose her words poorly. She couldn't have known Finn would actually do it.” Our six-year-old son was old enough to be punished. My sister was too innocent to be questioned. That was when I finally saw the favoritism Adrian himself didn't even realize he was showing. So I stopped asking him to choose me. I removed my Luna signet, left behind divorce and mate-rejection papers, surrendered custody of Finn, and accepted an assignment outside Blackwood Territory. By the time Adrian and Finn understood what it truly meant to lose me, they were already begging me to come back. Only this time, I was the one who no longer wanted to return.

On my birthday, Genevieve Rothwell posted a photo with her male executive assistant, Ethan Kline. They were wearing matching rings. [Partners at work. Partners in life.] I commented: [You two make a great couple.] Genevieve called me right away, yelling that I was sick in the head and couldn't take a joke. Before she'd even hung up, she was gently comforting Ethan, who was tearfully blaming himself. Before, I'd have stormed over there and thrown a hysterical fit, making a fool of myself in front of everyone. But this time, I felt nothing. I couldn't have cared less.

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.

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."

In the seventh year of our relationship, my boyfriend, Hunter Jenkin, seemed to have lost interest in everything. Desperate to figure out what still excited him, I bought a wristband that measured romantic excitement and fastened it around his wrist myself. When we watched a movie together, the wristband registered just 1 point. When we climbed a snow-covered mountain and kissed at the summit, the score was only 5. On his birthday, when I slipped a ring onto his finger, it rose to a mere 8. No matter what I did, I could never spark any real excitement in him. I was almost ready to give up, and I even suspected that the wristband was nothing more than an overpriced gimmick. Then, on the first night of Hunter’s business trip, my phone suddenly began vibrating nonstop. [Your partner’s romantic excitement score: 90.] I stared at the screen, stunned. By 1 a.m., the score had hit 100 and stayed there all night. I opened the location tracker, only to find an address so familiar that it sent a chill through me. It was the home of my best friend, Candace Lindhurst. Hunter had not lost his capacity for love. He had simply directed it all to someone else.

Five years after their breakup, Lauren Scott signed a master-servant contract with Yale Sutton, the ex-boyfriend who had been penniless when they were together. Yale would pay off her debts, and in return, Lauren had to fulfill his every demand. "Lauren, take off one piece of clothing, and I'll knock a million off your debt." Yale spoke slowly, his voice dripping with mockery. Around the private room, the men hooted and cheered while the women laughed and made teasing remarks. Lauren gritted her teeth. "Fine. Just don't go back on your word, Mr. Sutton." Without a moment's hesitation, she unbuttoned her blouse and let it fall to the floor, baring her porcelain-white skin and most of her full, rounded breasts. The room fell silent for a moment before whistles erupted from every direction.

My fiancée, Joanna Stiles, cheats on me again, this time with Ashton Barker, the man who's supposed to be my body double. She even compliments me on choosing such a fitting body double. Desperate to win her back, I get a tattoo in the style she likes, yet Joanna has it removed herself. "Be good. That look doesn't suit you." She even promises me, "The rest of them are just temporary distractions. You're the only man I'll ever marry." With Joanna's permission, Ashton takes the stage to accept an award that rightfully belongs to me. He also attends family gatherings at her side. Even during our wedding rehearsal, Joanna is listening to the playlist she created with Ashton. When she notices me standing there with a frown, she snaps impatiently, "I canceled a board meeting to be here for this rehearsal, and you can't even stay focused? If you're that unhappy, I might as well have Ashton take your place." This time, I don't fight back; I just agree. Just then, my phone lights up with a message from Serena Cahill, my longtime rival who now lives abroad. "Gabriel, why didn't you choose me when our families tried to arrange our marriage all those years ago?"

On Christmas Day, Dad shows up at my wife Sophia Walker's law firm, covered in snow. Clutching a crumpled land purchase contract, he stands awkwardly in front of her desk for a long time before finally gathering the courage to speak. "Sophia, I got scammed out of 30 thousand dollars in retirement savings when I bought a plot of land to be buried in. You're a lawyer. Could you take a look at the contract and see if there's any way I can get my money back?" Sophia specializes in contract disputes, but she doesn't even bother to glance at the document. Instead, she sweeps it off her desk and onto the floor. "You came to me over a 30-thousand-dollar scam involving a burial plot? I have actual clients waiting. I can't waste billable hours on this." Dad flinches at her words and hurriedly bends down to pick up the contract, apologizing over and over. "I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to bother you. I won't take up any more of your time. I'll figure something out myself." My heart aches at the sight. Then my gaze falls on the case files scattered across Sophia's desk. Right on top is a legal brief arguing for an acquittal in Ethan Cole's aggravated assault case. Ethan is her childhood sweetheart. He's gotten into a bar fight and broken three of a woman's ribs. Despite the overwhelming evidence against him, Sophia has spent the entire night poring over legal statutes and drafting more than 30 pages of arguments in an attempt to get him acquitted. Yet when it comes to her father-in-law, she can't even be bothered to look at his contract. I watch Dad shuffle toward the door, his back hunched and his shoulders slumped. Taking a deep breath, I slowly slide the wedding ring off my left ring finger and place it on the corner of Sophia's desk.

Three days after my boyfriend’s adopted sister died a tragic death, I clutched a so-called "hush money" check in my hand and became an accomplice in everyone’s eyes. My boyfriend once knelt in the pouring rain to beg me, and his sister’s five-year-old daughter cried and begged me to testify, but I refused them both. Ten years later, when I was dying of cancer, my boyfriend had become a billionaire. The first thing he did upon returning to the country was to forcibly extract my memories, even though I would suffer endless pain. "Elara, you vain, heartless monster! Lily and I must have been blind to ever treat you like family!" "Lily has been dead for ten years, and you’ve been walking free with that dirty money the whole time!" "Today, I’m going to find out exactly who paid you off—the person you protected just for money!" My boyfriend held a press conference to publicly crucify me for my crimes. But after seeing the whole truth, he went completely insane.

On the day of our engagement, my girlfriend, Alessia Pratt, was nowhere to be found. My mom, Lizzie Spencer, looked more and more displeased. I finally stepped out to call Alessia. As I passed a private dining room, I caught a glimpse of her through the door, which hadn't been fully closed. She was having dinner with her first love, Amos Farrell, and his family. Amos's hand slid onto her waist, and he leaned in until his head was against her ear. They looked incredibly intimate. Mom had come out looking for me, and she saw it too. She gave a cold snort. "You treat her like a treasure. You treated her like a treasure and were even willing to give her a share of our family's fortune, worth tens of millions of dollars. And what do you get for it?" I sighed, finally giving up on her for good. "If she doesn't care about it, there's no reason for me to keep throwing it at her."

I was Damian Valenti’s legal wife. But to the rest of New York, Sofia Bellini was the woman he planned to marry—and I was the pregnant mistress who refused to let him go. Damian said it was only for show. Sofia’s husband had died saving his life, and he had promised to protect her. She needed the wedding and the title of Donna. I already had what mattered: his love, his fortune, and our real marriage. At least, that was what Damian believed. He was so certain I would understand that he spent our seventh anniversary helping Sofia choose her wedding dress. He never noticed that I was in the fitting room beside them, wearing the dress he had once promised to see me in. As Sofia admired herself in the mirror, Damian told her she looked beautiful. I lowered my eyes to the faint curve of my stomach and rested a hand over it. Then I made the one decision he never believed I was capable of making. He could give Sofia my wedding, my home, and my name. But he could no longer keep his wife and his heir.

After my sister and I were both diagnosed with liver failure, we were admitted to the same hospital. But only one matching donor liver was available. My family favored her. I still wanted to live. I broke down in the hospital hallway, pleading with my parents for that chance. Someone filmed me and posted the video online. Everyone called me cold and selfish. They said I had sacrificed my humanity just to stay alive. When it was time to sign the preoperative paperwork, my brother finally came to my room. His face was hard. The moment he saw me, he started in on me. He wouldn't even look at me. "This family has always indulged you because you're the youngest. Haven't you caused enough trouble? "Camilla Hale is only twenty. Her life is just beginning. "You've been sickly since childhood, but we've taken care of you all these years. What would it cost you to put her first this once? "You've been sick your whole life, and you've always pulled through." He didn't know Camilla had secretly switched our test results. Before I could tell him, his phone rang. Camilla sobbed on the other end, asking if I was still being heartless. Henry's voice softened as he reassured her. "Don't be afraid. I'm here. "This is yours. No one is going to take it from you." Whenever I got sick as a child, my brother, Henry Hale, carried me to the hospital on his back. Back then, he would hold my hand and say, "Livia, I'll be your guardian angel." Now, as I looked at his familiar face, I understood how much trouble I had caused everyone... "All right, Henry. She can have the transplant."

On my wedding day, my boyfriend, Theodore Gunther, suddenly stops the wedding ceremony—all because Gwen Lithgow has updated her social media to say she's back. Theodore throws away the wedding ring he designed. He leaves me at the altar without another look back. I'm dumbfounded as I stand there in my wedding dress. My brother, Alvin Chilton, who's supporting me, lets go. "You've always been strong, Joycelyn. I know you can handle this alone. Gwen needs me more now." With that, he also leaves. He and Theodore have both left me for the same woman. They abandon me alone. That night, after dealing with the fallout of the failed wedding, Gwen sends me a photo. In it, Theodore and Alvin are standing by her bedside. She wears the necklace Theodore made himself and the wedding dress Alvin designed. Those were supposed to be mine. The image makes me lose hope in them. Tears stream down my face as I make a call. "Mom, Dad, I've changed my mind. I want to go home."

On my thirtieth birthday, Levi Maddox's childhood friend sent me a screenshot of her latest post. She'd tagged it at an amusement park. In the photo, Levi was bent down, tying her shoelace. The caption read: "Somebody said thirty-year-old women are way too boring. Taking a little kid like me out to play is so much more fun!" I stared at the screen for a long time. I didn't like it, and I didn't reply. Less than five minutes later, Levi called. Amusement park music played in the background, and Tessa Wynn was shouting beside him that she wanted cotton candy. Levi sounded casual. "Saw it? Tessa insisted on coming. If you're willing to swallow your pride today, admit you were wrong, and promise you'll never check my phone again, I'll rush home tonight and cut the cake with you." I knew this was his usual trick. Every time we fought over his total lack of boundaries, he'd run off to Tessa. He'd take her to the movies, on trips, dress in matching outfits with her, and then sit back, smug and superior, waiting for me to break down and give in. He'd once said, "Only when you see me with someone else will you learn to rein in that scary need to control everything. Besides, Tessa's like a little sister to me. It's not like you'd really be mad." Tessa always played along sweetly, too. "Sienna, please don't be upset. Levi just sees me as a little sister." On the other end of the line, Levi was still waiting for me to say, "I was wrong. Please come home." But as I looked at the birthday dinner going cold in front of me, I suddenly felt bone-tired. "Don't bother rushing back. "I'm thirty now. "I'm done being your nanny."

After dinner, I did what I usually did and went to the front desk to pay. The poor signal held me up for a while, and by the time I finally sorted everything out, my girlfriend and my best friend were nowhere to be seen. I called them more than a dozen times before they finally picked up. "You took too long, so we left without you. We're at the LEGO-building studio on the first floor. Come over." It was during holiday, so the mall was even more crowded than usual. I waited through two rounds of the elevator, but both were packed, so I had no choice but to take the escalator. By the time I reached the studio, there was not a single seat left. Nicole and my best friend were sitting side by side, talking about going to Northbridge University together. They were already mapping out the next ten years of their lives together, from graduate school to their PhDs—a grand plan for the future I had never been able to insert myself into. They had both already been admitted through the early scholars program back in May. I, on the other hand, had failed to do well on my college entrance exam and was still considering retaking it so I could catch up with them. When Nicole saw me standing awkwardly at the entrance, she said with exasperation, "You're always so slow. Just wait outside for now." I stared at the two of them from behind. For some reason, I suddenly felt unbearably tired. I had spent far too long trying to keep up with Nicole. This time, I was done chasing her.

When the university announced a nine-day break, my roommate started booking their tickets home on their phone while I was busy answering trivia questions on mine. This was my family rule. I had to answer questions to earn my allowance. There were ten questions, and every correct answer would get me $2. There were four levels for the trivia, which were Beginner Level, Intermediate Level, Advanced Level, and Expert Level. I did the trivia for seven years, from high school until my second year of university. One morning, my father, Norm Livingston, texted in the family group chat. [Whoever gets all ten questions correct, I'll pay for the ticket home during Thanksgiving.] I tried hard to suppress my excitement as I focused on answering the questions, but I got one wrong. I texted the results to Norm with clenched teeth and begged, [Dad, the questions this time were really difficult, but I got nine right. The train ticket is only $50. Can you cover it for me?] However, Norm replied right away with a voice note, and he berated me. "The rules are the rules. Look at your brother. He got all ten questions right and won himself the flight ticket. You should work harder to improve your knowledge. Stop thinking about having fun all the time." My younger brother, Ezra Livingston, texted the group with a screenshot of Norm transferring him the money for the ticket. [First-class ticket worth $1,000 to come home to your family.] The text was followed by another text from my older sister, Edith Livingston. [I specially set your questions at Beginner Level for you.] I stared at their texts and looked at my questions, which were at Expert Level, and I called my counselor after that. "Is it too late to submit my application to Gerasia as an exchange student?" I no longer wanted to reunite with my family during Thanksgiving.

In my past life, the Vitale crime family finally claimed me. But my own brother—the family heir—framed me. To protect his precious adopted sister, he accused me of causing her heart attack. My real parents believed him. They dragged me out and dumped me at the iron gates of the family estate. "You're a monster. You don't deserve the Vitale name." Soon after, a rival family tracked me down. I bled out on the cold asphalt. When I opened my eyes, I was back. Back to the exact night that sealed my fate. Nico blocked the current Don, Vincent. He pressed a gun to my forehead. "Father, she's not my sister! She's an imposter!" Disappointment and disgust flashed in their eyes before they turned their backs, disappearing into the dark. I stood in the pouring rain, gripping the family crest pendant—the only proof of my bloodline. Those foolish hopes for family love froze completely in that moment. I didn't argue. I didn't look back. I just vanished into the rainy night. Ten years later, I became the most mysterious surgeon in the North American underworld. Code name: Dawn. Now, the man sitting across from me is Nico Vitale—the family's new Underboss. His hands tremble as he slides a file across my desk. His voice is hoarse. "Doctor, please... you have to save my sister." I stop when I see the name: Isabella Vitale. I look up at his face. Bloodshot eyes. His old arrogance completely gone. I stare at him for a long, long time. Long enough to push down the bloody memories. Finally, I speak. "Your sister... I'm not saving her."

Seven years after reuniting with my biological family, everyone in the Morgan family still hated me. My parents couldn't stand me. No matter how hard I tried, they just told me that I could never quite shake off my poor upbringing. In their eyes, I'd never be as graceful or well-mannered as the daughter they'd raised in my place. My older brother blamed me for sending her away for an entire year after I first showed up. So when she finally moved back into the family's mansion, he guarded her like a watchdog, constantly hovering around her as if I'd bully her the second he turned his back. Even my little brother, the boy I'd practically raised myself, said she was the sister he'd always dreamed of having. Apparently, a sister who wouldn't let him eat junk food or play video games all day was the worst person in the world. He even looked me straight in the eye and swore that no one in this world would ever love me. I figured he was right. Clearly, this whole world had something against me. So when a mysterious system appeared out of nowhere and asked if I'd be willing to travel to other worlds and complete missions, I agreed without a second thought.

The day Martin Lovell is crowned king, I'm made his queen. During the kingdom's founding ceremony, assassins attack Martin and me, and I step in to stop them. But as I'm shielding Martin, he grabs me and pulls me into a blade's path so that I take the hit meant for my half-sister. As the blade sinks into my flesh, the blood filling my mouth stifles my cries of pain. Martin holds the trembling Rosie Franklin in his arms, gently wiping away her tears as he says to me, "Helena Franklin, you know how it is. You're a skilled fighter, and you even have supernatural powers. But your sister has none of that." I die in despair. As my consciousness fades, I hear the system's voice. [Helena, you have only one chance left to complete your mission. If you fail for the tenth time, you'll be erased from existence permanently.]