Historias cortas de After Death y novelas con Bias ambientadas en Countdown

While my entire family was helping my adopted sister try on wedding gowns, the doctor told me I had almost no time left. I held my terminal stomach cancer diagnosis and sent one message to the Moretti family group chat. “If I were dying, would any of you miss me?” Three minutes later, my parents replied. “You would lie about having cancer just to ruin Bianca’s wedding?” “Enough. The Moretti family has no daughter who tells lies like this.” My brother called, already irritated. “Bianca’s father died taking a bullet for me. No one will ever walk her down the aisle. She only wants to experience one wedding. Why can’t you let this go?” My childhood sweetheart and fiancé, Adrian Vitale, never answered. He was kneeling in front of Bianca, gently arranging the skirt of my wedding gown. Seven days earlier, my family had decided to give her my wedding. I stood there for a long time before signing the body donation papers. My parents and brother could choose her. My fiancé could choose her too. This time, I would fight for nothing.

After my sister Rose died, my Luna Mom remained consumed by the immense grief of losing her daughter. So, from the moment I was old enough to understand, I was forced to play the role of my sister. Mom forbade me from wearing white, because my sister's favorite color was red. She forbade me from cutting my hair short, because my sister wore hers long. If I disobeyed, a slap would come across my face, and she would question whether I was truly her daughter. Alpha Dad told me again and again that Mom was overwhelmed by grief, and that I should indulge her and play along. I obediently followed suit, imitating my sister in everything. Until the day I was accepted into the Werewolf Academy, and Mom tore my admission letter to shreds. "Your sister died before she ever got to attend the Werewolf Academy, so you are not allowed to go either!" I nodded. Back then, my sister died of spirit decay. Now the healer has told me I'm in the final stages too. This time, I will be her perfectly.

My sister Kira and I had shared one body since birth, each controlling it for half the year. Even so, my CEO boyfriend Aiden loved me more than life itself. He built me a glass-domed garden where it was always spring so I could experience the seasons I slept through, tattooed my name over his heart, and promised, “You’re the only one I love.” I believed him. Yet our wedding was postponed eighteen times in six months. Before every wedding date, I was caught in an accident. Each time, I was badly injured but never killed. After I woke from the eighteenth accident, my private doctor told me my soul had suffered too much damage. When Kira woke in three days, I would disappear for good. I stumbled home in a daze and overheard my father talking to Aiden. “Eighteen accidents are too many. What if you really hurt Roxy?” “I calculated the risks in every accident,” Aiden said calmly. “None of them was supposed to kill her. How else was I supposed to keep postponing the wedding until Kira woke?” Tears blurred my vision. “As you wish.” Three days later, Kira woke as usual, and I never woke again. But after I died, Aiden went mad with regret.

I spend three years in prison taking the fall for Dwight Reed, the precious assistant of my hospital director wife, Gretchen Payne. On the day I am released, the first thing I see is yet another Medical Malpractice Liability Acknowledgment. "Sign it, Dustin. I want you to take the blame for this incident, too. Dwi has a bright future ahead of him. He can't have a stain on his record." Gretchen shoves a pen into my hand. "You've already served time. So, one more charge isn't going to make a difference." When I don't budge, she clicks her tongue impatiently. "Dustin, you're a convicted felon. You should be grateful for the chance to take the fall for Dwi! It's only five years! "Don't push your luck. Or is this about money? In that case, name your price!" I look at Dwight, who's sitting in the car with his arm around her waist, and let out a silent, bitter chuckle. My hand tightens around the late-stage leukemia diagnosis in my pocket. Gretchen, how am I supposed to serve five years when I only have seven days left to live?

On the night the real Shepherd heir is welcomed back to the wealthy family, my sister, Savannah Shepherd, kicks me out and dumps me at an orphanage. Overnight, my pampered, smooth-sailing life takes a 180-degree turn. The delinquents at the orphanage make my life a living hell. One day, they pin me in a cesspit, and I nearly suffocate. The next, they're whipping me raw until I can't even drag myself out of bed. I cry and beg the orphanage's director, Dee Juarez, to save me, but she only sneers at me with contempt. "If you weren't so cruel, why would your family have thrown you out? You brought this on yourself!" Her silent approval allows the delinquents to escalate their abuse, tormenting me until I'm barely a shell of myself. Then, on the night before New Year's Eve, they strip me naked and throw me out into a snowstorm. Only after my entire body is frozen rigid am I rushed to the emergency room. Through the haze of consciousness, Dee's mocking laugh fills the room. "Rich people sure know how to have fun. She kicked out her own brother just to keep her adopted brother from being bullied, and she even dumped a truckload of money on us just to teach him a lesson and smooth out his rough edges." Dee clicks her tongue. "Have you seen the news? His parents are spoiling that adopted boy rotten, while his sister has practically devoted herself to him. "Who knows if Ms. Shepherd will even bother showing up when I call? Either way, we're definitely not footing his medical bill." So that's the truth. As it turns out, all my suffering is nothing more than a twisted game Savannah engineered for Joey Shepherd's entertainment. My hands clutch the diagnosis report the doctor hands me—terminal bone cancer—and I laugh until tears stream down my face. Wonderful. Very soon, Joey really will be the only brother Savannah has left.

Since I was little, I've had the ability to see the Grim Reaper. After seeing the Reaper trailing behind my grandfather, my father, and my mother right before each of them passed away, my three older brothers concluded that I was a jinx. I was the one who brought disaster upon the family. From then on, I became the invisible one in the house. My oldest brother, Kieran, the Alpha, was too busy managing the pack to ever pay attention to me. My second brother, Rhys, was a gentle healer. But when I told him my stomach hurt, he just gave me a cold smile. "What does that have to do with me? As long as you don't bring us bad luck, I don't care." My third brother, Declan, was the pack's fiercest Gamma warrior. Whenever I got close, he’d clench his fists and warn me to stay the hell away from him. As for my younger sister, Chloe, they held her in the palms of their hands, treating her like a precious treasure. They called her their lucky star, because ever since she was born, everything in the family had gone perfectly.But didn't Mom die while giving birth to her? I was ignored for over a decade. Until the day of my eighteenth birthday, when the Grim Reaper stood by my bed. He told me he would come to take me away in three days. I wasn't sad. I just thought, this time, they’ll finally be happy, right? But on the day I actually died, the three of them cried.

Yarden Stone had been cheating on me for three years, yet he had hidden the other woman so well that I could never catch him. Once, I found a lace choker in the back seat of his car. It still held someone’s body warmth. More than once, I had noticed fresh bite marks behind his ear. Every time, I would lose my mind. I would tear the house apart and demand to know who the woman was. Yarden would always frown wearily. “Lily, how long are you going to keep suspecting me of cheating? If you’re going to accuse me, then at least find the woman you claim I’m seeing.” I started following him around twenty-four hours a day. I even called all our friends and relatives and had them wait outside hotels and apartment buildings to catch him in the act. But every time we broke down a door, we found Yarden sitting on the couch in perfectly neat clothes. He always said, “Are you going to search this place?” When we left, my mom took my hand and sighed. “Lily, trust is the most important thing in a marriage. You cause a scene every day. What do you think that does to Yarden’s reputation?” Even my best friend tried to talk some sense into me. “You’re under too much stress. Maybe it’s all in your head.” But I remembered the lipstick that was still on Yarden Stone’s lips. He had not wiped it off completely. The color was so bright that it almost hurt my eyes.

The night Helen Kerr's first love proposes, I stand on the 33rd-floor terrace, holding my terminal stomach cancer diagnosis. Through the glass, I watch the man drop to one knee. They exchange rings, and she slides the ring meant for me onto his finger. I stay hidden outside in the excruciating pain, refusing to ruin their moment. Then Helen spots me. There is no panic or guilt, just pure disgust in her eyes. She sneers, gestures toward the ledge, and mouths through the window, "Jump, if you're gonna jump. Stop acting just to ruin my night. If you actually die, maybe I'll believe you." Right then, the last flicker of life in me goes dark. I look at the woman I've loved for a decade and finally smile. That's a smile of pure relief. I turn and climb over the railing. "You're free now, Helen. Enjoy the final gift."

After learning the silver poison had sunk deep into my heart with no cure left, I secretly returned to the pack I'd left five years ago. I just wanted to see Leon Frost one last time. The one who was now their Alpha. Instead, I walked right into news that he was about to mate with his new chosen, Shelly Davis. Worse—they caught me. My mother had me in a wheelchair. Leon's eyes flickered with something unreadable when he saw me. He didn't speak. But Shelly sure did. "Well. Look who finally crawled back. Five years and you look like hell. Can't even walk anymore?" Her voice dripped with mockery. I held back the tears and tugged at my sleeve, hiding the decay spreading across my arms. "It's nothing. Just tripped and hurt my leg." Shelly's laugh cut through the air again. "Since Leon and I are holding our bonding ceremony, you should come witness it. Ten days from now. Full moon night." I kept my face calm and forced a smile. "Can't make it. I'm heading somewhere far away." Then I glanced at Leon—his face still empty, still silent—and signaled my mother to wheel me home. The further he got, the harder the tears fell. Leon, I wasn't lying. I have less than ten days. Before your ceremony even starts, I'll be gone.

On the final day of our graduation trip, temperatures suddenly soared to dangerous levels. I came down with heat exhaustion, but my boyfriend gave our entire supply of electrolyte drinks to my best friend. "You're in good shape, and you know first aid. Just drink some water and rest for a bit. You'll be fine. "Willa's the one we need to worry about. She's always been frail, and without the electrolyte drink, she could get seriously sick." I was too dizzy to argue, so I turned to the others in our group for help, only to be met with eye rolls. "Sophie, you're taking this jealousy way too far." "Ryan was just looking after someone who's actually sick. Do you really have to act like you're about to die?" As the group set off again, my boyfriend looked down at me, still sitting on the ground, and frowned. "Do you really have to bring everyone down right now? "Fine. Stay here and think about your actions. Once you're ready to admit you were wrong, you can catch up with us on your own." He had no idea that I was already showing signs of heatstroke, or that in the moment he walked away, the system would speak inside my head. [Host's life is in imminent danger. Do you wish to leave this world?] I calmly closed my eyes. "I accept."

The ninth time Julian Hale chose Vivian Cross over me, I held a knife to Vivian's throat and made her beg for forgiveness in the middle of a crowded downtown plaza. I thought that would finally be enough to end the affair. Instead, Julian made me pay for hurting her. He went after my father's company and destroyed it, leaving my family broke and buried in debt to loan sharks. In the end, my father, Martin Ellison, couldn't take it anymore. He swallowed an entire bottle of pills beside my mother, Diane Ellison. The shock was too much for her heart, and she died soon after. I lost both my parents in a single day. The day after the funerals, the doctor gave me more bad news. I had late-stage stomach cancer. I had three months left, maybe less. And just like that, I was done fighting. I moved out of our bedroom, threw away my wedding ring, and stopped calling him hundreds of times whenever he stayed out all night. Even when he brought Vivian home just to provoke me, I didn't argue. Instead, I hired a top chef to cook her favorite dishes. Julian thought I had finally learned my place. Then came Vivian's birthday. With a shy smile, she said her birthday wish was to marry Julian. I pulled the signed divorce papers from my bag and slid them across the table. Julian panicked. He ripped them apart and grabbed my wrist, his eyes bloodshot. "Nora, what game are you playing now? Trying to make me chase you? Where did all that fight in you go?" Before I could answer, I coughed up a mouthful of blood.

Raffaele Moretti, the Mafia Don, once made me a promise. If I proposed to him fifty-one times on livestream for the whole world to see, he would show up for the fifty-second and finally make our relationship public. But when the night of my fifty-second proposal came, Raffaele was in the Maldives with his childhood sweetheart, Gianna. He bought her an entire yacht just to put a smile back on her face. I became the laughingstock of the internet. Later, he sent me an apologetic message. “Gianna was upset. I only went with her because she needed a change of scenery. That's why I missed it. Don't read too much into this.” “I'll say yes when you propose for the fifty-third time. Then you'll be my Donna.” Sure enough, he arrived at my fifty-third livestream in a perfectly tailored suit. And as he watched, I set fire to all fifty-two letters I had written asking him to marry me. Hidden among them was my liver cancer diagnosis. "There won't be a fifty-third chance, Raffaele." Because in a matter of days, I would be dead.

The ninety-ninth thing my adopted sister Isabella took from me was a grave in the sun. I had already paid the deposit, but the cemetery didn’t dare sell the plot to me. Because the Moretti family’s principessa wanted that plot for her dead dog. But I loved that spot. So I called my mother, the Donna of the Moretti family. Her voice cooled the moment I mentioned the grave： “Adriana, are you still pretending you have gastric cancer?” “Isabella just lost her dog. She’s suffered enough. Stop trying to take something else from her.” My father rejected my call. My brother, Luca, answered while helping Isabella choose the dog’s headstone. “Stop buying graves to frighten us. Why are you always so petty? Can't you stand to see your sister have anything good?” I looked at the oncologist’s report in my hand. Seven days. Maybe less. So even when I was truly dying, no one believed me. I chose the only plot left at the edge of the cemetery, where sunlight never reached, and signed the contract. Then I blocked my family one by one. They were right. I needed to stop begging them to care and remove myself from their lives for good. Seven days later, I died alone. That was when the Morettis finally believed me. And lost their minds with regret.

Everyone in the pack thought I was a gold digger. I was an outsider wolf with no family, yet Alpha Adrian had chosen me as his mate. His parents, friends, and even the elders insisted I wanted only his fortune and the title of Luna. Adrian alone believed me. Then, on the night of our mating ceremony, I asked him to lend me three hundred thousand dollars. From that night on, he was convinced I was vain and greedy, that the only thing I loved about him was the wealth he possessed as Alpha. When I begged him to attend my father's funeral, he sent me money. Six months ago, when I was diagnosed with wolfsoul degeneration, he believed I was just looking for an excuse to get money. The last time he transferred money to me, he was away on vacation with his childhood sweetheart, Selene. He did not know the healer had just told me my wolf soul was in the final stage of degeneration. I had seven days left. He had no idea that I borrowed money on our wedding night because Selena had poisoned me with silver, and I needed the money to save my life. My body is now beyond cure, ravaged by illness. He never chose to trust me. After my death, he went mad with regret.

During summer break, I worked part-time at a bungee-jumping site, where my best friend deliberately hid behind me and cut my safety line. I scrambled out of the way, but my boyfriend hugged my sobbing best friend and accused me instead. "All I did was comfort Vivi a little when she got scared while bungee jumping. Did you really have to damage your own rope and frame her deliberately?" I stayed away from them to protect myself instead of trying to explain. Then a typhoon suddenly struck, leaving the bungee platform swaying dangerously. My boyfriend was in charge, yet he gave the only spare safety rope to Vivian, who had already retreated to safety. “You’re the safety officer, and you’re certified in high-angle rope rescue. A little wind can’t hurt you. "Vivi isn't trained for this. She's a visitor who's afraid of heights. I have to get her out first." When I said nothing, he snorted and locked the bungee platform's gate. "Are you really going to act jealous at a time like this? Fine. Stay here and cool your head in the wind!" He even evacuated the other staff members before leaving with my best friend, supposedly so I could reflect properly. What he didn't know was that my safety rope was already damaged and could not withstand such powerful winds. He had no idea that as soon as he left, the system’s cold notification echoed in my mind. [The target has abandoned you for the ninth time. Would you like to leave this world?] I watched his figure gradually disappear and calmly nodded. "Yes."

Two years into my marriage with Luca Mancini, I'd gotten used to waiting. Wait until the accounts were settled—then he'd take me on our honeymoon. Wait until the family meeting was over—then he'd celebrate our anniversary with me. Wait until his men were taken care of—then he'd call the private doctor to see me. I knew how hard it was to sit in the Don's seat, so I never cried or made a scene about it. I even took half the work off his shoulders without being asked. Because of my patience and all the times I stepped back, things between us finally softened. When he was exhausted, he'd lean his head on my shoulder, kiss my forehead, and say: "My Donna, once this busy season is over, I promise I'll make it all up to you." Today was my birthday. He'd promised me half a month ago that he'd spend it with me. I'd booked out an entire restaurant. The cake was cut. I was waiting. But from six to ten, he never showed. Then a photo popped up in my inbox: In the pouring rain, Luca was holding an umbrella, shielding his childhood sweetheart, Anna, tight against his side. The timestamp on the photo read 9:40. Twenty minutes ago. He'd tilted the umbrella over Anna's head, letting the rain soak him through. Then his text came through: "I've got an important meeting. I'll be home late." Looking at that message, I didn't reply "Got it" like the good, understanding wife I always was. I thought I'd gotten used to waiting. I thought if I just cleared every obstacle out of his way, I'd finally get the man who kept his promises. But staring at that photo, my heart sank all the way to the bottom. It was never the waiting I was afraid of. It's just—last month, I was diagnosed with terminal leukemia. This was the last birthday I'd ever have. I stood up, hollow, and walked home alone through the endless sound of rain. The man I'd been waiting for—I couldn't wait for him anymore.