Cerita Pendek & Novel Bias Awakening

The royal family once helped the Foxkin of Moonveil. For generations, the Foxkin had sent their youngest daughters to the royal palace to repay that debt. Each prince had a Foxkin companion who looked after him and kept him safe. My elder brother, Alaric Ashbourne, had a Foxkin who fought fiercely by his side on the frontier for years. In the end, they fell in love and married. My Foxkin was named Evelina Wrenwood. I felt sorry for her. She had left her home and would never be able to return to her clan, so I never restricted her freedom. I always gave her the finest things first, never expecting anything in return. People said I spoiled her rotten, but I pretended not to hear them. Yet Evelina ignored all I did for her and kept urging me to put brotherly love first and entrust Alaric with greater authority. That day, I personally brought her a basket of summer peaches from the southern duchies. But when I stepped out of her room, I saw a swarm of tiny words floating in midair. [That's what you get for chasing a woman who doesn't want you. You end up with nothing!] [Why force Evelina to be yours? Her heart belongs to Prince Alaric. Doesn't he get it?] [She's doing everything she can to put Prince Alaric on the throne. Cassian, the crown prince, is just a fool!]

Nathan Caldwell has a rule: anything he lends out has to be returned personally. So every item his ex-girlfriend left behind when she moved out, he returned himself. An old umbrella meant a three-hour drive. A book meant taking half a day off work. An earring meant a flight out of state. It's been five years. She still hasn't finished collecting what she left at my house. Then my mother is hospitalized after an asthma attack. I'm stuck working late, so I ask Nathan to stay with her overnight and keep an eye on her oxygen monitor. He says yes. At two in the morning, he takes a phone call and leaves. He doesn't come back until the next day. "Camille said she forgot a pair of glasses at our place," he tells me. "I dropped them off." I look at the alarm button on the oxygen monitor that nobody ever pressed. In his rules, whatever someone else leaves behind always comes first. My mother's life doesn't even rate as a stop on the way. Fine. If he can't let her go, I'll let him go back to her.

I had been dating Sean Barnes for three years, and during all that time, I never once asked him to dine at a fancy restaurant. He kept a strictly balanced ledger for all our romantic spendings. If a meal crossed the budget, he would go out of his way to earn back the extra amount. Before heading off to work, he would always plant a kiss on me. “Gotta save up for that wedding, baby.” While away on those business trips, he never failed to report every detail of his itinerary, so I never once doubted him. One night before Thanksgiving, Sean claimed the cost of the gifts he got for my parents had gone way over budget, prompting yet another trip out of town. “You wouldn’t want our wedding date to keep getting pushed back time and again, would you? I’ll be back on Thanksgiving. You have my word.” Gazing at the exhaustion in his eyes, my heart softened, and I yielded. Came Thanksgiving Day, and my parents and I waited in vain late into the night, while Sean’s phone rang on without being picked up. Faced with the worried looks in my parents’ eyes, I forced a smile, then drove through the night to the place where Sean was supposed to be working out of town. When I arrived at the hotel, however, I found him holding a wedding ceremony with my best friend, Michelle Hudson. They were kissing amidst the loud cheers of the crowd. At that exact moment, a message popped up on my phone from Sean. “Sorry babe, just wrapped up with the emergency surgery.” Watching Sean put away his phone on stage with a face full of tenderness, I dialed the number of my friend, the CEO of an entertainment agency. “How much for a trending hashtag? I want the whole world to know about a certain wedding.”

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.

When Harry Carson is reborn, he finds himself back at 27 years old, married to the richest woman in the world, Laura Jensen, with a son and a daughter. Laura holds the top spot on the Global Wealth Index year after year. The Pinnacle Magazine names her the world's most desirable woman to marry, and even the royal family of Eldoria hopes to arrange a marriage between her and their prince. Everyone says Harry is the luckiest man alive, but the first thing he does is take the divorce agreement straight to Thomas Bright, the man Laura has always loved. He slides the papers across the table and says calmly, "I want a divorce. Laura's yours, and so are the kids." Thomas stares at him in disbelief. He can't believe that Harry, who has been Laura's husband for six years, is suddenly willing to step aside. Harry simply adds, "Since they all prefer you anyway, I'm giving you what you want. Just get Laura to sign the papers. Once the divorce procedures are over, I'll walk away." This time, Harry refuses to repeat the mistakes of his previous life. He's done being "Laura's husband", whom everyone treats as though he doesn't exist. Thomas unconsciously runs his fingers along the rim of his cup, his brows furrowing. "Harry, what the hell are you playing at?" Harry watches the expressions flicker across Thomas' face before calmly repeating himself, "I'm not playing games. I've just had enough." "Harry, do you have any idea how many men out there would kill to be in your position?" "I do." Harry looks him straight in the eye. "That's why I'm giving it to you."

Everyone says Zachary Suffold is hopelessly in love with Madison Fulmer. He's stayed by her side at her poorest, working three jobs a day to support her so she can focus on playing the piano. He's drunk himself into the hospital with a bleeding stomach just to secure performance opportunities for her. Over the last three years, he has poured his heart and soul into turning her into a renowned pianist. He's especially protective of her hands, the very hands she uses to play the piano. Once, a rival deliberately threw boiling water at Madison's hands. Without a second thought, Zachary threw himself in front of her, using his own body to shield her from the scalding water. Madison walked away unharmed, but Zachary suffered third-degree burns. Even now, an ugly scar remains on his arm. Later, someone from the orchestra asks Madison, "When do you plan to marry Zachary?" She merely frowns in displeasure. "When did I ever say I'd marry him? He's not even my boyfriend. He's just a loyal little simp who does whatever I tell him. He's not good enough to marry me." Little does Madison know, she's not good enough for him, either. After all, she's nothing but a stand-in.

Throughout our four years of college, Charlotte Montgomery booked train tickets for me and my buddy, Forrest Croft, whenever we headed back to school or went home for break. She always claimed that getting tickets was a race against the clock, and somehow, the three of us never managed to sit together. Every time the tickets were issued, Forrest would tear into her in our group chat. "Charlotte, can you be any more useless? You managed to book three tickets in three different train cars. Next time, you'd better stand right next to him, even if you have to stand the whole way. Otherwise, you'll answer to me." Charlotte always fired back immediately. "Who the hell do you think you are? I could crouch at his feet, and it still wouldn't be any of your business." I believed them. Even when I spent six hours sitting alone in an uncomfortable seat, or came down with a fever in the middle of the night and called Charlotte more than a dozen times without getting an answer, I assumed she'd fallen asleep in another train car. It wasn't until our graduation trip, when someone asked to switch seats with me. I dragged my suitcase over, only to find Forrest with my jacket draped over his shoulders, his head resting on Charlotte's shoulder as they shared a pair of earbuds. When Charlotte saw me, she simply pulled out one earbud and sat up straight. "Let's get one thing straight. We've always been careful not to give people the wrong idea. I only kept it from you because I was afraid you'd feel uneasy if you knew we'd be sitting next to each other for six hours." Forrest patted the seat beside him. "I'm your buddy. Isn't it better to have me keep an eye on your girlfriend, rather than some random guy sitting next to her?" Just then, a smiling train attendant came over and handed them a matching set of luggage tags. "According to our system, you two have sat next to each other on all 16 round trips throughout your four years at college. We'd like to give you this souvenir to commemorate that." Only after she'd finished speaking did she notice me. She glanced down at the booking details again. "This is your friend who booked tickets with you, too, right? How come he's the one sitting alone every time, even though all three of you book your tickets together?" The entire train car fell silent. I looked at Charlotte's pale face, realizing something. They had never once been separated from each other. For four years, I'd been left out every single time.

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.

My dad may be an idiot, but he's loaded. I may be useless at everything, but at least I'm pretty. My older sister, Yvonne Quinn, is the only smart one in the family. She has grand ambitions, so she has no interest in inheriting our little family business. In the end, Dad makes the call and picks the poorest but most even-tempered guy among the top-ranking students to marry me and join the Quinn family. As it turns out, Dad has an excellent eye for people. Yannick Jordan really is the perfect husband. He's strikingly handsome and refined, gentle and patient by nature, and thoughtful and attentive in everything he does. In just two years, he becomes a rising star in the business world, and I become the Mrs. Jordan everyone envies. But he has one fatal flaw: he's far too devoted to his career. Once our honeymoon is over, I'm left enduring two long years of a marriage in name only. If I want to see him, I have to book an appointment a month in advance. If I want to have dinner with him, I have to wait until he's done with countless meetings, business engagements, and negotiations. But Yvonne never has to wait. After all, she and Yannick aren't just partners in a joint venture. They're also trusted allies who always have each other's backs. Together, they weather malicious schemes from rival companies, survive the darkest days of a financial crisis, and work side by side through countless nights until dawn breaks. Everyone praises them as an unbeatable power couple in the business world, a match made in heaven who seem unstoppable together. But I'm the only one who feels like a thorn between them.

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.

On the eve of my wedding, my friends threw a joint bachelor and bachelorette party for Natalie Cole and me at a bar. After a few rounds of drinks, someone suggested a game of Truth or Dare. The bottle landed on me first. My younger brother, Kayden Wilson, grinned. "I dare you to take off your pants. Let's see what you've got." The whole table immediately erupted in cheers. I glanced at Natalie, but she kept her head down and continued scrolling through her phone without a word. Hence, I took off my pants and stood there in nothing but my underwear. In the second round, the bottle landed on me again. My sister, Hannah Wilson, raised her glass and asked half-jokingly, "Logan, I dare you to admit you're pathetic enough that you can't live without a woman." My face burned, but everyone was staring at me, waiting to see if I'd ruin the mood. I closed my eyes and said hoarsely, "I admit it." Eventually, the bottle landed on Natalie. Her friend, Veronica Reed, grinned. "I dare you to tell your soon-to-be hubby what you were doing behind everyone's back last night." Natalie paused for two seconds before she looked at Benjamin Henderson beside her, her eyes full of affection. "He got drunk and insisted I take him back to his hotel. Then he threw up all over himself, so I helped him shower and changed him into his pajamas. He said he didn't want to sleep alone, so I held him until morning," she revealed. The private room fell silent for a moment before suggestive laughter erupted around the table. Benjamin playfully tickled her and scolded her for embarrassing him by revealing his secrets. But I stood there frozen, unable to say a word. Finally, Veronica pointed toward the little quickie wedding chapel attached to the bar. "Then I dare you to take Benjamin over there, get married, and have it annulled afterward." Benjamin's eyes lit up as he looked at Natalie. I looked at her too. Natalie gave an exasperated smile, took his hand, and walked toward the chapel as the crowd cheered them on. At that moment, I suddenly felt there was no point in going through with our wedding the day after tomorrow.

By the time I'm done interviewing the final guest, the blister on my ankle has been rubbed raw, turning the spot into a bloody mess. Sadie Jensen, whom I've been secretly dating, appears with a plaster. However, she brushes right past me and walks up to Connor Lewis, my best friend. "You've been standing in those dress shoes for over ten hours now! Are you trying to destroy your feet on purpose? Don't come complaining to me about the pain later!" Laughter ripples through the crowd. "Ms. Jensen is so stubborn. If she's worried about him, she should just say it! Why's she hiding her concern behind her sharp tongue?" "When it gets cold, she brings him a jacket. When his blood sugar level drops, she brings him chocolate. The second he says he's tired, she immediately cancels everyone's overtime!" "I'll bet a month's worth of breakfast that she's hopelessly in love with Connor. I'm positive the two of them are secretly involved with each other." The entire department erupts in teasing hoots and whistles. Blushing, Connor waves them down. "Oh, you guys… Stop being so ridiculous!" He hands me the plaster. "My feet are fine. You can have this." I withdraw my outstretched hand and force out a weak smile. "It's fine. I don't need it." To avoid raising any suspicion about our relationship, Sadie shoves me aside. She pushes Connor down onto a chair before crouching down in front of him. Then she takes off his shoes and socks and, in one swift motion, puts the plaster on for him. By now, our colleagues are practically hollering with glee. As their cheery voices echoed all around me, I'm hit with a realization. All that talk about not wanting to arouse any suspicion? That's just a lie. The truth is, Sadie's heart belongs to someone else now.

After ten years of agreeing to remain child-free with my husband, Scott Gibson, he suddenly tells me that his first love, Claire Tate, is pregnant with his child. His friends immediately step in and try to talk some sense into me. "Jenna, don't be upset. Scott just wants to leave an heir for his family." "Claire and Scott haven't had it easy all these years." "Besides, you can't even have kids. Are you seriously going to throw away his family's massive fortune?" Claire blinks innocently, placing a hand on her belly. "Jenna, I really love Scott. I don't want his family to end up without an heir." They sound so sincere, but just last night, they secretly called me barren. Scott is drinking at the time and sighs. "I don't want to hurt Jenna either, but my mom always said a woman isn't truly complete without children." I collect my thoughts and nod. That night, I find Scott's older brother, Nate Gibson, who lives abroad and rarely keeps in touch with the family. "They are dividing up the inheritance. Aren't you coming to see what's yours?" He has slept around for years and already has eight illegitimate children. I guess they don't have to worry about the Gibson family line dying out now.

Conan Hamilton's true love secretly wears my wedding gown. She's pregnant, and she slips and falls when we argue. After being taken to the hospital, she's told that she'll never have another child. Conan is furious. He banishes me abroad to be a nun. A year later, he comes to the nunnery to take me home. However, all he finds is that I've long since broken free. I even have a child in my arms. His eyes are red as he snarls, "Are you trying to use the child to force me to marry you? Or do you just want to mock Queenie for not being able to bear children anymore?" He has no idea that the child isn't his. He also doesn't know that I'm about to marry someone else.

After my family went bankrupt, I begged my fiancé Ryan to pump cash into our business. He didn't just refuse. He turned around and got engaged to someone else. When I was at the end of my rope, Ethan Brooks stepped up, tossing all his savings into my family's mess. Sadly, we missed our shot, and our company crashed. My parents couldn't handle it. They jumped off a building. Even so, I was thankful to Ethan and married him to pay him back. Three years later, at Lily Carter's birthday party, I overheard her talking to him. "You tanked the Harper family so I could win that bid. Won't Kelly blame you?" "For you, I'd give up everything. I'll just make it up to her." My blood ran cold as I realized our marriage was all a lie. The one he loved was Lily all along. I turned and left. If he was that hooked, I'd set him free.

All my life, I have been trapped in the shadow of my sister, Selene. She was the Silver Moon Pack's Daughter of Moonlight, blessed by the Moon Goddess, the prize every Alpha coveted. What she didn't know was that this time, I had been blessed as well. I was reborn on the night of my mating ceremony. Just as in my past life, she smiled that harmless smile, insisting on giving me the first choice of a mate, maintaining her perfect facade of a generous and doting sister in front of everyone. This time, however, I wouldn't give her the chance. In my last life, I genuinely believed she had my best interests at heart. I foolishly gave her the first choice and chose Alpha Damien of the Black Forest Pack, a man who suffered from Moon Sickness, sending him into frequent, uncontrollable rages. I gave up my birthright within the pack and became the balm for his violent wolf, staying by his side every moment like a full-time caretaker, even though he never offered me a single ounce of a mate's affection. It was not until a Rogue wolf attacked during the celebration for Selene's heir that he attempted to use dark magic to steal her unborn pup's spirit. In that instant, the Alpha who everyone believed had been lost to madness for years was suddenly lucid. He lunged forward to protect Selene, but in his haste, he accidentally pulled me into the path of the dark magic. The spell struck me instead, crippling my wolf spirit. Only then did I finally understand. He had never truly suffered from Moon Sickness. His pack had never seen him as a discarded monster. He had feigned madness only because he knew he could never have Selene's love and refused to bond with anyone but her. In my final moments, he apologized to me. "Forgive me, Elara." "I could never let anything happen to Selene. I'll repay you in my next life." When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the night our father ordered us to choose our destined mates. This time, they were the ones begging for my love.

I ignored my friends and family’s objections and insisted on pursuing my now-girlfriend, who was disfigured in a car crash when she tried to save her first love. Some laughed at me for being a back-up plan, but I didn’t care. I worked day and night, earning money for her plastic surgery, and stayed by her side as she walked out of depression. But on the eve of our wedding day, as I was doing her laundry, a marriage certificate dropped out of her pants pocket. The groom was her first love. I was about to make things clear with her when I overheard her conversation with her best friend. “I know Steve saved me, but if Yves doesn’t marry me, he’ll be forced into a marriage alliance. I don’t want to see him lose his freedom. “As for Steve, I’ll find someone to forge a certificate for me. Don’t blurt this out, okay…” I felt my blood then grow cold as I quietly changed the groom of our wedding three days later to her first love. By the time she found out about the surprise, I would have left for abroad, never to return.

When I was six, a car crash wiped out most of my memory. My foster parents told me my parents had died that night. They said they had taken me in, given me their name, their home, and the protection of one of New York's most powerful families. So I spent twelve years proving I deserved to stay. I cleaned up my younger sister Bianca's messes, handed her the credit for my work, and locked every trophy I earned in a wooden archive box because my success made the family's real daughter uncomfortable. Then, at eighteen, I ordered a certified birth record for my student visa. The clerk looked at me and said, "Your parents have always been Vittorio and Elena Romano. There's no adoption on file." I had never been an orphan. Bianca knew. My relatives knew. The family attorney knew. Even the old butler who carried me home from the hospital knew. For twelve years, everyone had played a part in the same lie. So I hid the birth certificate and kept playing the grateful adopted daughter. I fixed Bianca's speech, prepared her heir's gala, and smiled while my family erased my name one last time. They had no idea I'd already booked a one-way flight out of their lives.

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.

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.