Plot Twists Short Stories & Bias Countdown Novels

After graduating from high school, my twin sister, Ella, and I were both accepted to Newland University. My parents put eighty thousand dollars in Ella's college fund and gave her a three-thousand-dollar monthly allowance, but put only eight thousand in mine and gave me three hundred a month. They took it for granted that I would move to Newland to look after her. The day the whole family threw a graduation party for my sister, I boarded a flight to the West Coast with a single suitcase and a full scholarship to one of the country's top engineering schools. What they didn't know was that the reporter who showed up that afternoon to interview "the outstanding Ashford graduate" had never been looking for my sister. The person they wanted was me, the daughter they'd already pushed out the door.

After three days of the silent treatment, my fiancé, the Capo of the Moretti family, took his assistant, Bella, on an island vacation. He expected me to be driven mad with jealousy, just as I always had been. But when he returned to Valmont a month later, he found a different woman. He made me give up my corner office. I didn't fight him. I just packed my things and handed it over. To prop Bella up, he discredited me in front of a key partner at the annual family meeting, just so she could shine. I didn't try to prove my innocence. I just accepted the family's reprimand and took my punishment. When Lucas wanted to put Bella in charge of the family's most profitable business, I didn't even get angry. I handed over all the necessary documents without a fight, letting him redistribute power as he saw fit. Bella was smug. "See? What did I tell you?" "A woman like her just needs a firm hand. One trip to the island and she's terrified of losing you. Look how obedient she is now." Lucas bought it, praising Bella for her insight. In a move he'd never made before, he promised me a wedding so grand it would become a legend in the Valmont underworld. But he seemed to have forgotten the dissolution agreement he signed, the one I slipped him right before he got into the car for their vacation. I had already severed all ties with him. I was leaving, but he had no idea.

After three years of pretending to be dead on livestreams, I finally earned enough money to treat my daughter. I was about to go home and tell my wife and daughter when I overheard a call between the platform administrator and my wife. The administrator said humbly, “Chairman Morgan, Mr. Wells’s livestreams have generated tens of millions in revenue over these years. “The company withheld ninety-five percent of it. Should we keep withholding more?” Stacy fell silent for a moment before answering, “No need. Three years of testing him is enough. He barely moves year-round. He even developed muscle atrophy and didn’t tell me.” John’s voice came through the phone next. He said, “Stacy, Sam can even pretend to be dead, so what if this is an act too? “Besides, Emma’s already used to Sam being gone, so she probably won’t accept having a dad again anytime soon.” After some hesitation, my wife said indifferently, “If that’s the case, then withhold it for another six months.” I smiled and tossed the diagnosis report confirming amyotrophic lateral sclerosis into the trash. There was no need for them to test me anymore. I no longer needed to pretend.

The day before our marking ceremony, a vengeful witch laid a curse on me. Over the next seven days, I would slowly forget the man I loved. For the two hours it took Adrian Blackwood to return to the packhouse, I rehearsed a dozen different ways to tell him. After all, he had once defied the Elders to make me—an Omega—his Luna. But before I could say a word, Adrian took my hand, his features hardening with urgency. “Evelyn, we may have to postpone tomorrow’s ceremony.” “Serena is back from the Frostlands Pack. She’s been diagnosed with Wolf-Soul Wasting. Her dying wish is to experience a complete marking ceremony before she goes.” “You and I have the rest of our lives. Once she returns to the Moon Goddess, I’ll hold another ceremony and make you my Luna. All right?” He looked at me with the same quiet hope he had worn the night he asked me to be his mate. Only now, he was asking my permission to hold a marking ceremony with another woman first. I held his gaze for a long moment, then nodded. “All right,” I whispered. “You have my blessing.” Within seven days, I would not even remember the man I had given it to.

I'm Sabrina Pembrook, Axel Callahan's stepsister, and the lover he's kept hidden for seven years. At first, I think that he'll keep me hidden for a lifetime… until the night of my birthday when he proposes. I'm so excited I can't fall asleep, and apparently, neither can Axel. In the middle of the night, I hear him walk out to the balcony to answer a call. "She said yes. Everything will proceed as planned." The voice on the other end hesitates slightly before saying, "Are you sure you can go through with it? She's your darling whom you've doted on for so long." Axel's voice turns to ice. "Well, it's her mother's fault for being a homewrecker. If it weren't for Elaine, my mom wouldn't have died. I want Elaine to die in the wedding car, just like how my mom died in a car crash." The person on the other end falls silent for a few beats before sighing. "You sure are cold-blooded. You've slept with Sabrina for so many years, and you're still going to kill her mother on the day of her wedding. And if she ever finds out she's not even the bride, she's going to lose her mind." Axel falls silent. Then, he says something else, but I don't want to listen to another word. What I thought was seven years of love finally coming to fruition… turns out to be nothing more than a plot to murder my mom. But Axel Callahan, I'm not going to let you get what you want.

At our seventh anniversary gala, my husband, Alexander Rossetti, had gifted me the city's one of a kind Rose Manor. I was kissing Alexander. That's when his Capo, Romeo, stepped up with his wine glass, lowering his voice in pure Sicilian dialect with a teasing grin: "Don, the Jasmine Manor for Elena's all settled, identical to the one you gave to Donna." Alexander let out a chuckle. He shot back in Sicilian, casual as ever: "What can I say? She begged me in bed, said she wanted the same thing as her sister. " He kissed my cheek as he spoke, gazing at me with all the warmth in the world, while telling his men: "Don't say her name. If my Donna finds out, we're all in deep shit." His men exchanged knowing smirks, raised their glasses to him, and swore up and down they'd keep their mouths shut. He kissed my cheek, and didn't notice my smile had frozen solid. Maybe Alexander was too smug. He forgot one thing. My grandmother came from one of the oldest families in Sicily. I understood every single word they said. Fireworks burst overhead. Alexander said: "I love you, Olivia. We'll be together forever." I hugged him back, but behind his back, I pulled out my phone, opened the weapons research invitation that Santoro Institute had sent me days ago, and hit "Accept." Three days from now, I would vanish from his world completely.

My girlfriend suddenly told me she had six small beads implanted inside her, blushing as she said it was meant to please me. The next day, I made soup and brought it to her office. To my surprise, I saw her in the arms of my good friend, Henry Somerset. Henry wrapped his arm around her waist, his voice deep. "Baby, you're such a good girl. You really did the implantation as I told. My dumb friend even thought you did it for him. Do you reckon he'll lose his mind if he finds out you and I are getting married soon?" My girlfriend's voice turned cold. "This is nothing more than a marriage of convenience. I'm warning you not to let Chris find out." Henry chuckled and moved his hand downward. "Don't worry. As long as you keep me happy, I won't get Chris into trouble." After hearing all this behind the door, my entire body went cold. Clutching my phone tightly, I recalled my boss saying he would transfer me to a subsidiary company a few days ago. I no longer hesitated and sent him a text. [Boss, I'd like to be transferred to the subsidiary company in Hailborough City in three days.]

My family is always tricking me into believing there's an emergency over the smallest things. When Dad faked an attack signal, I forfeited a championship final, only to discover he'd simply misplaced his favorite newspaper. The time Grandma claimed her wolf was vanishing, I missed my promotion review, only to find out she just wanted me to clean the lawn. Every single time, I rush to their side in a panic. And all I get is the same perfunctory, casual explanation—"We just wanted you to come home sooner." Eventually, it becomes an unspoken game of testing how quickly I will come running. On the night of the Full Moon Festival, I'm negotiating at the Alliance headquarters when my younger sister, Leah Holmes, suddenly calls. "Erin, Mom's wolf is fading… She keeps calling for you." The next second, my blood bond with Mom suddenly weakens. A sharp pain grips my heart. I can barely manage to excuse myself before bracing against the wall and rushing out of the conference room. But when I arrive home, Mom is on the terrace, carving a roast turkey. Upon seeing me, Leah excitedly waves her phone. "I win! She didn't even grab her coat!" Mom holds up the moonstone used to simulate distress signals and chides her, laughing. "You should tell Erin now. Look how terrified she is." My future mate, Nolan Harding, walks over and holds my cold hands in his. In the past, whenever my blood telepathy acted up, he'd always hold my hands like this and stay with me until the pain in my chest subsided. But this time, he advises me in a lowered voice, "Leah spent all afternoon preparing this. She just wanted everyone to have a happy holiday. Take a moment to calm down before blaming her." Leah bursts out laughing behind him. "Erin, I'm not the only one to blame. Nolan was the one who taught Mom how to use the moonstone." I slowly withdraw my hands. Of course. He knows better than anyone how to make me feel safe, and how to make me afraid. That night, I accept a three-year transfer to the West Coast branch and withdraw my application to form a mate bond.

A week before our marking ceremony, I told Ethan Stormwind I wanted to break up at his friend's party. Everyone laughed. They all knew that for the past six years, my life's goal had been to become his marked Luna. With only a week left until the ceremony, how could I possibly want to break up? Even Ethan thought I was being unreasonable. "Just because I need to take Selene to the healer for her follow-up on our ceremony day, you're throwing a tantrum about breaking up?" "We're both adults. Can you act more mature? You could just reschedule the ceremony. Why do you insist on that specific day? I don't have time for your jealous games." I nodded silently. Yes, something needed to be changed. But it wasn't the ceremony date. It was him. I was going to accept someone else's mark instead.

On my birthday, my father posted a roulette to the family group chat. He said the prizes would be given on the spot. I was nervous as I'd been very much looking forward to the Syldan trip. My brother smiled. "You first, birthday girl." I spun the wheel, and it stopped at "Stay at home". Everyone else got "Flight ticket to Syldan". Claire Zimmer, my adopted sister, murmured quietly, "Can I give Theodora my ticket, Dad?" My brother interrupted, "No. Rules are rules. Besides, you've been looking forward to this! You can't miss it!" My mother smiled. "You're a good girl, Theodora. Stay home. We'll bring some gifts for you." I said it was okay. After all, it was just my luck. Then, my father took out four tickets from his pocket and gave them to everyone with a smile. The tickets already had their names on them. I froze. It was then that I remembered that the same thing had happened during the room split three years ago. Claire got the main bedroom, while I got the dark and humid storage room. As a result, I'd been in frail health since then. I knew right then that I didn't have rotten luck. The roulette was rigged so I would never ever get the good prizes. There was no point spinning any more wheels. I quietly went back to my room and texted my mentor, "I'm up for the four-year secret project in the Gaulian Sands, professor."

“You don't deserve to be a daughter of this House,” my mother hissed, her eyes burning crimson in the firelight. “If you can't support your sister as our heir, get out.” I should have seen it coming. In House Ashenveil, family came first—unless you were me. Vera Darkthorn. The disappointment. My perfect younger sister, Iris, got the love, the title, even Kane, the man I was supposed to bind myself to. I got an empty chapel on the night of my blood-binding. Even the man who had sworn himself to me never showed. So I left. Now I'd built a life among Berlin's underground vampire courts, where power was the only currency that mattered. I'd learned to fight. To lead. To make vampires twice my size lower their eyes with a look. Then word came that Iris was dying, and suddenly my family wanted me back. “Come home, Vera.” My father's voice rasped through the phone. “Your sister needs you.” I almost laughed. After everything? But I wasn't the helpless daughter they'd discarded anymore. This time, I knew how to use my fangs. And when your own blood comes hunting for you, you don't run. You go for the throat.

Before I turned eighteen, I was the adored principessa of the Moretti family. That all changed on my eighteenth birthday, when my father brought home an orphan girl named Carina. "She needs a home," my father said. "You will look after her, like a sister." From that moment on, nothing was the same. My brother, who once doted on me, became cold and distant. And my fiancé... his love for me seemed to halve overnight. The family praised Carina for being gentle and obedient, calling her a far better daughter than me, their own flesh and blood. After being cast aside for Carina one too many times, I finally broke and grabbed my father's sleeve. "Does blood mean nothing at all?" My father's fury ignited. He sheltered a tear-stricken Carina behind him, and in front of every member of the family, he struck me across the face. "You selfish waste. I wish I'd never had you." "You bring shame to this family," my brother Marco's voice was as cold as a blade. "Get out." And my fiancé, Vincent, looked at me with disappointment,"If only it had been Carina I was engaged to from the start." They thought I would grovel at their feet, like I always did. But I said nothing, just walked to the family safe, removed the official documents, and drew a single line through my name. I took the engagement ring from my finger and placed it on the table. I gave Carina everything they felt I didn't deserve. After all, I only had a few days left to live. But they had no idea then that amid the ruins of the Moretti family, they would one day kneel in the rain and plead for my return.

To marry Lorenzo Vincenzo, I gave up my photography career. A dream I had held for ten years. But on our fourth anniversary, I asked my sister Greer to draft the divorce papers. She kept asking, over and over. "Why would you leave Lorenzo? He's the top surgeon at St. Vincent's. Rich, gorgeous. Half the city is dying for a shot at him." I swallowed the bitterness clawing up my throat. "Because of a gift." Greer followed my gaze to the music box on the table. The card was in Elara's handwriting. Lorenzo's junior from med school. [Thank you for flying out to do my aunt's surgery, senior. I know it was a long trip. You worked so hard. The little dancers on this music box remind me of us at graduation prom. Hope you like it, Lorenzo.] That day, my father was in a car accident. I rushed him to St. Vincent's. Only Lorenzo could do the surgery. I searched every floor of that hospital, every corridor. Nowhere. I told myself he must be on a business trip. But no. He had left his post for Elara. The same man who once swore he would never abandon the OR for personal matters. Finally, my father died on the table. Greer pulled me into her arms. "The Vincenzo family owns this city. Their reach is everywhere. Where could you possibly go that he would not find you?" I glanced at the flight confirmation on my phone. "Three days. I am flying to Paris, to a photography studio there. And I will make sure he never, ever finds me."

My Vampire fiancé, Vincent, was the powerful prince of New York's most influential coven. He had lived for centuries and was notoriously ruthless, yet he bestowed upon me, and only me, every honor imaginable. But one month before our Union Ceremony, he suddenly insisted on postponing it. The reason was his childhood friend, Camilla, was dying from a rare condition known as Bloodline Degeneration. To repay a life debt from long ago, he wanted to hold a mock wedding with her to fulfill her last wish to wear a wedding gown. I refused outright. It was a flagrant violation of coven dignity. But he pressured me relentlessly, using a supposed ancient code of honor as emotional blackmail. Then, two weeks before the ceremony, I received an anonymous email containing an advanced blood analysis report. Only then did I learn that he hadn't just been preparing a wedding; he had already secretly formed a Mutual Blood Bond with her, a pact that would bind their lives together for eternity. In that moment, I finally understood. My two centuries of devotion to him had been nothing more than a joke. And so, I called off our union and set fire to everything he had ever given me. On the day of the ceremony, I traveled to Europe's Supreme Institute for Vampiric Research in Italy and took charge of the Institute's most secret and critical project. From that day forward, I would have nothing more to do with the noble prince. We were finished.

My mission to win her love had failed, and the system told me I could leave this world in fifteen days. As soon as I heard the news, I agreed to the divorce my wife wanted. I stopped making a scene whenever she left me behind to take care of her childhood friend. I stopped screaming myself hoarse when she spent my money on vacations with him. At first, she even praised me for being understanding. Then she smiled and told me she planned to marry him, and I still didn't react. She began to panic.

After Dominic Hatch loses his memories, he refuses to believe that I'm his wife. "If you really are my wife, why is it that there aren't any photos of us together?" I explain to him that he doesn't like taking photos. That's why we didn't even have a wedding portrait of us. But soon, Dominic digs out nine thick and heavy photo albums from a hidden compartment in his safe. The main characters in those albums are him and another unfamiliar woman. There are countless photos documenting their journey—from they were still children to when they had completely grown up. The pure and innocence on their faces slowly give way to the sappy love and affection they have for each other. In fact, Dominic and the woman even had a wedding portrait of their own. At the back of the photo, a passionate "I love you" is scrawled there. I feel the blood in my veins turning to ice. With a trembling hand, I dig out my marriage certificate. Dominic merely glances at it before scoffing at me. "The edge of the seal is crooked! Clearly, this copy is forged!" My mind buzzes loudly at that moment. At the same time, the system's warning blares loudly in my mind. "This marks the end of the marriage registration mission. You have failed the mission. Commencing eradication protocol. Countdown: 48 hours remaining."

The Blood Moon Pack had one inviolable iron law: the Alpha’s mate must also be a werewolf. I was the human girl the pack had adopted. Even so, Alpha Wilson chose to form a mate bond with me. To stay with me, he openly defied the Elders’ orders. They locked him in a stone cell and gave him ninety-nine lashes. Even when blood soaked through his shirt, he still smiled at me, bowed his head, and kissed away my tears: “Lily, you will always be the only mate I have ever claimed.” In the end the Elders agreed to let me become Luna, on the condition that I quickly give Wilson an heir. It was not until the third year of our marriage that I finally became pregnant. Just as I was filled with joy and about to tell Wilson, his childhood sweetheart, missing for years, returned. She was a werewolf, and the ideal Luna in the Elders’ eyes. The Elders demanded that Wilson marry her at once and produce a legitimate heir for the pack. According to pack law, as long as I lived I would occupy the position of Luna, and he could not take a second mate. This time, Wilson chose to compromise. He pressed a bottle of fake-death potion into my hand, eyes red, and begged me. “Lily, please help me this once. Once she gives birth to the heir, I’ll bring you back.” I never had the chance to tell him that I was already pregnant. My adoptive Beta brother and Delta brother also urged me to take the medicine and leave. They said it was only a temporary measure; everyone was doing it for the good of the Pack. They all believed I would obediently fake my death, hide in some corner, and wait for Wilson to keep his promise. What they did not know was that from the moment I agreed to take the medicine, I had already begun arranging my own way out. This time, I would stage my own funeral with my own hands.

My parents are music professors, and their university is always hosting these music salons and exchange events. But they never took me. After I graduated from college, I was desperate to see what it was like, so I begged my mother for a visitor's pass. She was busy helping my sister Ella fill out an application for one of those concerts, and she cut me off cold: "Everyone attending is a top-tier musician. You can't even read sheet music—walking in there, you'd just stick out like a sore thumb." A few days later, I stood in the freezing wind, listening to the applause rolling out from the auditorium. My sister stood at center stage, performing alongside a bunch of renowned musicians. That night, my mom posted a proud photo of Ella's performance on social media. Graceful. Composed. Radiant. The comments were all flattery—until one relative asked: [Why didn't you bring your Seraphina along to soak up some of the spotlight?] My mom replied: [She has zero musical talent. Too much of a philistine. Not her scene.] I stared at my phone, glancing at the six-figure offer from Wall Street, and let out a helpless laugh. My mom always favored the kid she thought was brilliant—never had a clue that I was shining somewhere else entirely. Three days left until I move out of Ohio for good. I'm taking everything she called "philistine" about me and walking out of her precious little music kingdom forever.

Seven years into my marriage to Sebastian, we had our first child. On Logan's first birthday party, one of the old friends Sebastian had known since prep school rattled a little velvet cup of dice in Logan's face and laughed. "Come on, Mrs. Forsythe, humor us. Let the birthday boy roll. A game. For old times' sake." Logan giggled and slapped at the cup. "If he rolls a six," the groomsman went on, grinning sideways at Sebastian, "Sebastian goes and picks Serena up from the airport tonight. Deal?" The moment I heard her name, my blood went cold. I turned to Sebastian. He'd been keeping in touch with her behind my back. All this time. He caught my eyes. He covered my shaking fingers with his and frowned slightly. "Don't be jealous over nothing. We're all friends. It's just a ride from the airport." And then, without quite meaning to, he nodded. Permission given. Logan laughed and opened his little fist. The dice clattered across the linen. A six. "That's fate!" someone whooped. "Serena's flight lands in two hours. You'll make it!" The room erupted. Glasses up. Backs slapped. Sebastian surrounded. His face softened and he turned and went for the door. Watching his back disappear through that door, I didn't do what I used to do. This seven-year bet of mine — I had lost it, completely.

For eight years, Damian Caruso kept me as his secret wife. I handled his family's lawsuits, protected his empire, and raised the son he refused to acknowledge in public. Ethan wasn't even allowed to call him Dad when anyone else was around. I told myself Damian had his reasons. Until our son's seventh birthday. Damian promised he would come home. Ethan waited beside an untouched birthday cake until nearly midnight. Damian never showed. Because Sofia Bellini—the childhood friend everyone already treated as Damian's real woman—had the same birthday. And Damian had chosen hers. That night, I stopped waiting. I signed the divorce papers. The next morning, Damian was in such a hurry to rescue Sofia that he signed the documents I placed in front of him without even reading them. He didn't realize he had just given me permission to take Ethan out of New York. Then he moved Sofia into our home—and asked his wife and son to leave so she wouldn't discover we existed. Ethan looked at the father he had spent seven years trying to love and called him "Mr. Caruso." Damian finally looked shaken. But it was already too late. On the day we left, he told me he had to fly abroad to handle a divorce case for a client. I said nothing. Because that divorce case was mine. He was flying across the ocean to finalize the end of our marriage—and he still thought I was just taking our son out of town for a few days.