Bias Countdown Maiikling Kwento at Nobela

Julian Hayes spent eight years climbing from first officer to captain of the most coveted international routes. I stood beside him for every mile of that climb. For him, I walked away from the Valenti family, the most feared Mafia name on the East Coast. I buried Elena Valenti, and became Lina Vale, the girl who smiled in the cabin while he ruled the cockpit. The day I left, my father stood on the marble steps of our estate and said, "Elena, if you walk out that gate for him, don’t come crawling back." Julian never knew. To him, I was a woman with no real family, no real power, and no life worth asking about. I was the one who memorized his flight schedule, packed his stomach pills, and kept dinner warm until midnight. Once, I asked him, "Can you take me into the sky the way you see it? Just once." He didn’t even put down his fork. "The cockpit is a workplace, Lina. Not a theme park." I said okay and never asked again. Then one sleepless dawn, I found the encrypted album on his phone. More than forty cockpit photos: cloud seas, blood-red sunsets, double rainbows after storms, the Milky Way over the Atlantic. Every one had been sent to the same contact. A teddy bear emoji. The newest photo showed half a sun hanging off the wingtip. His caption read, [Next time you’re off, I’ll put you in the observer seat. Sit on the right. That’s where the whole sky opens up.] She replied, [I’ll hold you to that.] I put the phone back. I didn’t change the password, didn’t delete the album, didn’t wake him up to beg for an explanation. At dawn, I brewed his coffee like always, sat alone at the kitchen island, and drank mine in silence. Then I sent my resignation letter and called a number I hadn’t touched in eight years. I watched the first flight of the morning rise beyond the Manhattan skyline and said, "Papa, I’m coming home." When the line connected, my father’s voice was colder than a gun barrel. "Have you thought it through?"

On the night of my engagement party, Luca Moretti walked his childhood sweetheart over to me. "Clara accidentally stained her dress," he said. "Let her borrow yours for a while." He added, "Everyone knows you're the main character tonight. It doesn't matter what you wear." I didn't bother objecting. The gown was already on her. I stood behind the half-closed back door in a borrowed black dress while his men laughed over their whiskey. "Luca, is your real fiancee going to lose it?" someone asked. Luca barely looked up from his glass. "Anna is going to be a Donna. She needs to learn grace." Another man snorted. "Besides, she's an orphan. Where's she gonna go without you?" Luca smiled. "She can't leave me." They didn't know I had never been an orphan. I had buried the Valenti name for five years because I wanted Luca to love me as Anna, not as the Valenti daughter. My father is the Mafia Chairman, the man every family answered to when the highest table met. That night, I took off the Moretti emerald ring, left it beside the guest book, and called home. "Papa, I’m not marrying Luca. Don't come to Chicago."

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

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."

At Greg Jenson’s birthday party, an obituary suddenly created a huge ruckus in our school year’s group chat. “Oh my God, Luanne Lee is dead” “It’s got to be fake news. A bad thing never dies. How could a malicious woman like her die so easily? Back then, she literally took Greg...” Sitting at the head of the table, Greg twirled his phone in his hand, his eyes dark. “It's fake. I just got a call from her this morning. She said she was coming to my birthday party.” However, someone hesitantly held up their phone, showing the screen to the room. “If I'm not mistaken, this person really is Luanne. The memorial service is at the funeral home in the neighboring city. Should we go check it out?” On the screen was a photo of a funeral hall, and there I was, lying peacefully right in the center. Greg’s expression turned to panic. He bolted upright and headed straight for the exit, but the moment he opened the door, he froze dead in his tracks. The deceased ‘me’ was standing right at the doorway. Looking into those deeply familiar eyes, I smiled and said, “Greg, it’s been ten years. I'm here to wish you a happy birthday.”

Ten years after I accidentally crossed into the modern world, the system finally detected the glitch that was me. It was ready to send me back to the era I belonged to, but it gave me three days to say goodbye. On the first day, Corinne Whitford asked me to step aside so her childhood sweetheart could take my place at the altar. I did not cry or make a scene. I just smiled, slipped off my ring and handed it back to her. On the second day, she brought him home. She told me she was giving him a home. I did not argue, just stepped aside and let it happen. On the third day, she wanted to take him on a honeymoon to Wyndmere, the one place I had always dreamed of going. I helped her arrange everything, gentle as ever. When she stepped onto the train bound for Wyndmere, I turned and walked toward the road that would take me home. This ten-year dream had run its course. It was time to wake up.

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

Everyone in the family can see the countdown above Eli Nash, my brother, so we all know he dies the day he turns 16 years old. Thus, Eli becomes the most pampered person in the family. He gets all the good food, the latest limited-edition sneakers, and even the bedtime stories from Mom and Dad. I feel very bad for him, yet I am jealous of all the love he receives. I finally make it to the eve of his 16th birthday. But Mom and Dad fear that I will cause trouble, so they lock me in a storage room while I am suffering from a high fever. I panic as I bang on the door. "Please let me out, Mom! I'm running a fever, and my head hurts so badly!" Mom snaps through gritted teeth, "That's enough, Ash! Eli is going to die tomorrow! Why can't you just put up with it?" "I feel really sick, though…" I start losing consciousness as the sounds outside the door die down.

After Giselle left for Europe, I took her place. I made a blood pact with Julian—the feared vampire lord and CEO of Evernight Biotech. Every night for five years, he pinned me down, kissing every inch of my skin. We became enemies, craving and hating each other. He hated me, believing I schemed to drive Giselle away and stole her place as his mate. I hated him too. Every time he took me, he moaned Giselle’s name. He never even acknowledged me before his clan. Because of my awkward status, my parents—who desperately craved immortality—were mocked by high society. They poured all their toxic resentment onto me. In my past life, on a Blood Moon night, Julian and my parents threw a lavish welcome-home party for Giselle. They left me behind in the unwarded old manor. When rogue vampires broke in, I—a fragile human—was drained dry, along with the unborn half-blood baby in my womb. Meanwhile, my sister was enjoying the blessings of North America's elite. When I opened my eyes again, I was reborn. It was the exact day Giselle returned. This time, I refuse to beg Julian and my greedy parents for scraps.

On our seventh anniversary, Damon, the Don of the Voss family, turned what should have been our wedding into a divorce ceremony for the seventh time. I did not scream or break down sobbing. I only stood in the middle of the hall like a clown while his friends laughed at me. "Evelyn, why aren't you laughing? Don't tell us you're actually mad." Damon came over with a frown and gently wiped the tears from my face. "Evelyn, stop crying." "I promise. This is the last time I'll make a joke like this." I looked at him and suddenly remembered what I had overheard outside his study the night before. "Don, this is the seventh time you've made a fool of Evelyn. Aren't you afraid she'll leave?" Damon was silent for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was hoarse. "She won't." "Everyone knows Evelyn can't live without me." "Selene once took a bullet for me. Her health has been poor ever since." "She wanted to see Evelyn fooled seven times. I'm only granting her one last wish." "After this, I'll marry Evelyn properly and make her my Donna. I'll give her the grandest wedding as compensation." I had already been humiliated seven times. No matter how deeply I had loved him, no heart could survive being worn down like that. Damon did not know I was the hidden heir of the Hale family. I had never cared about his title as Don. In three days, I would return to my family and accept the marriage alliance.

An hour into my daughter's college-sendoff dinner, Marissa Langley still hadn't arrived. Every one of the hundred-plus calls we made was rejected. Every message she sent back was the same automatic reply: "On my way." My daughter stood up and sat back down five times, head lowered as she twisted the hem of her dress, not knowing how she was supposed to read the line in her speech that said, "Thank you to my parents." When I finally couldn't take it anymore and left the room— I saw Marissa in the banquet hall next door. She was standing shoulder to shoulder with her first love, Adrian Pierce. In front of them was Adrian Pierce's son, whose GPA fell more than a full point and a half short of my daughter's. "Thank you, Mom and Dad, for raising me!" The boy bowed to them. Marissa held Adrian's arm, smiled softly, and gave a gentle nod. Amid the thunderous applause, I stood there watching them for a long time. Suddenly, I felt more tired than I had ever felt in my life. So I turned around and went back to my daughter's table. "She isn't coming, sweetheart. Go onstage and say what you want to say." I reached out, patted my daughter's shoulder, and said softly, "And the thing you asked Dad about before— "I've thought it through. We'll do it your way."

On my little brother, Clover Shaw's birthday, I tear up my stomach cancer diagnosis report and use the money I've saved for treatment to buy him the gift he's been talking about for ages. But when I wake up in the early hours of the night while coughing blood, I hear the disdain in his voice. "That piece of crap he bought is just 5,000 dollars. It's not even worth as much as my cheapest game! Who would want that garbage? "He's such an idiot. It's been over 20 years, and he still hasn't figured out that we've been playing poor. He's out there working himself to the bone to scrape together my tuition fees! On top of that, he stinks so much every day! It's disgusting! Mom, who has always called me the backbone of the Shaw family, angrily speaks up. "He deserves it! You wouldn't have ended up in the ICU right after you were born just because he stole all your nutrients in the womb. You'd grow up to be young and healthy. "The fortune teller was right. He's nothing but a leech, and if we don't find ways to torture him, he'll only make your life suffer." While I collapse on the floor, tears stream down my face nonstop as I stare at the blood pooling in the trash can. "Don't worry, Mom. You won't have to fuss over my future because I won't have one…"

I'm the human shield Daniela Falcone—the underworld queen—personally chose to protect her first love, Luca Bianchi. We're three years into our marriage, and this is already the eighth time her rivals have kidnapped me. Daniela arrives with her men to rescue me, but we're not even five minutes into negotiations when Luca calls. "Dani, I lost at Truth or Dare. I'm supposed to kiss some woman here, but I want to save my first kiss for you. Can you come over?" The second Daniela turns and walks away without a single backward glance, a knife plunges deep into my stomach, and blood splatters everywhere. Just like the last seven times, her right-hand man, Carlo Marino, tosses some cash around to clean up the mess. Then, he has me sent to the hospital. In the ambulance, I hear Daniela's men guessing whether I'll live long enough to see Luca stand on his own two feet. They roar with laughter. I'm the only one crying. The mission to save the underworld queen has failed, which means the System will wipe me out soon. I think to myself, "Daniela, I won't live to see that day."

Just how rich can a person be? My husband, Don Leonardo Bianchi, is incredibly wealthy. Every time he abandons me for his childhood sweetheart, Sofia Rossi, he gives me a building. The first time, it was a luxury apartment building with a sea view. The tenth time, it was a commercial property in the prime downtown area. By the 50th time, the general managers of several real estate companies had started calling me "Boss". Five years into our marriage, my real estate spreads across the entire country. When the deed to the 97th building is delivered to me, Sofia sends me a taunting voice message. "You might have the property deeds, but I have Leonardo. Aurora Esposito, tell me, which one of us is the real winner?" After listening to it, I don't cry or make a scene. Instead, this time I take the initiative to draft an agreement and wait for Leonardo to sign it. Once Leonardo comes back, he signs it and praises me for being magnanimous. He then takes me to a party as his date. At the party, Sofia loses game after game and is stripped down to only her underwear. When she loses once more, she turns to me—who is wearing only a dress—with a meaningful smile and says, "What's the fun in just me taking things off? I think Aurora, the perfect Donna, should join in too." Amid the clamor of cheering, I quietly look at Leonardo. "You just have to take off one piece of clothing. Don't spoil everyone's fun. When we get back, I'll give you another building," he whispered to me coaxingly. I calmly acquiesce. Little does he know that he won't have another chance to give me anything, because what he blindly signed earlier is our divorce papers.

In Silver Hollow, a girl could not leave her family home as a bride until the groom's family had prepared a complete set of seven silver wedding pieces. For six years, Logan Carney promised me that my bridal set would be ready soon. But every year, one piece was still missing. So I waited. I waited until the girl everyone once called beautiful became the woman people whispered about behind her back. In the seventh year, I emptied my savings and secretly ordered the silver crown myself. It was the most expensive piece, but I told myself it was worth it. I loved Logan, and I wanted to help him. But on the day I went to give him the crown, I stopped outside his door. Inside, I heard his younger brother, Caleb Carney, speaking in a low voice, "Logan, are you seriously giving this year's silver crown to Abbie? You have been giving her one piece every year for seven years. She already has a complete bridal set." Logan laughed softly. "Abbie is different. She's wild, and everyone in town treats her like one of the guys. She is afraid no man will ever marry her, so she wants a full silver set to prove she is still worth marrying. Giving it to her doesn't hurt me." Caleb was quiet for a moment. "And what about Julia?" he asked. "What if she finds out? What if she gets angry and marries someone else?" Logan snorted. "She has waited for me for six years. If she were going to leave, she would have left long ago." Then he said the words that shattered the last of my heart. "Besides, she is already twenty-eight. Who else would want her now? Let her wait one more year. Once she is almost thirty, she will be grateful just to marry me. A woman like that won't dare act proud anymore." I stood outside the door, feeling as though my heart had been ripped wide open. At that moment, I finally understood the truth. For seven years, I thought I had been waiting for my wedding. All along, Logan had been building someone else's. If that was how he truly felt, then it was time for me to find myself a new groom. I dialed a number I had buried for years. The moment he answered, my voice trembled. "I'm getting married in three days," I said. "Will you come steal me from the wedding?"

Seven days after my twin sister Bianca suffered cardiac arrest and slipped into a coma, my fiancé Matteo De Luca sat beside her ICU bed, holding her cool hand through the night. “So you were telling the truth.” “If I don’t marry you, you really will die.” “Bianca, wake up, and I’ll marry you immediately.” After his promise, her pulse quickened on the monitor, and Bianca opened her eyes. Everyone called it a miracle. Only then did I learn that Bianca was a Contract Holder, and the man she had been assigned to win was Matteo—the man I had loved for five years and was about to marry. His promise had only stabilized her. According to Bianca, the contract would not be complete until the marriage became legal. That same night, our two mafia families rewrote the wedding plans. The De Luca chapel remained booked. The reception, guest list, and priest stayed the same. My mother placed the De Luca heirloom veil that had been fitted for me on Bianca’s head, my father ordered the lawyers to replace my name on the marriage documents, and Matteo slid my engagement ring onto her finger. They were relieved that Bianca had survived and assumed I could wait. Standing outside her room, I watched Matteo kiss her hand as the system spoke inside my mind. 【Target individual is preparing to marry another Contract Holder.】 【Original task entering failure countdown.】 They did not know I was a Contract Holder too. Bianca and I had received the same task, with the same man as our target. She was awake. Now I was the one marked for erasure.

I was selling some furniture that was collecting dust on a used-goods site when a girl messaged me about discounts. "Can I get it for a bit cheaper? I'm still in college, and I moved out of my dorm because I got into a fight with my roomies. My boyfriend found me a new place. He's rich and said he'd marry me after I graduate, but I don't want to burden him so much. Please, just twenty dollars off? I can pick it up myself!" I was reminded of my college days with Jonathan Mueller. We used to take shared bike rides for two hours just to save five dollars. I was only an ordinary employee now, but I still had more spare cash than a college student. My kindness took over, and I agreed to the discount. That night, two figures appeared at the entrance of my neighborhood. The girl looked proud of herself. "I spent less than a hundred and got a barely-used washing machine! Brilliant, right?" The man looked at her with unmistakable affection in his eyes. "Yes, darling. You're the best. But I'm making money for you. You don't have to save for me. I'm the CEO of Mueller Group. I can support you. Don't haggle next time." The man raised his head, still smiling. When our eyes met, I froze. That man was Jonathan Mueller—the same man who had told me he was on a three-month business trip to earn three times the travel expenses..

In my previous life, Jackson Miller, a poor student, framed me and drove away the three women who had once cared for me. Meryl Duncan, the school beauty, who has always been close to me, stands firmly in front of Jackson, protecting him without hesitation. Kara Jensen, who has a crush on me, along with the female professor, Sally Robinson, who has always treated me with warmth, also believes Jackson's lies. They demand that I kneel and apologize to him. No matter how much I try to explain, no one believes me. In the end, they lock me inside a classroom to reflect on my mistakes. Later, someone pushes me off the building and kills me. Fate gives me a second chance. I'm reborn. This time, whenever I see them, I choose to walk away. Yet the moment they learn that I have applied for an international exchange program and am leaving the country, the three women who have abandoned me are ruffled.

Because of the death of his first love, Don Stefano Giullani has hated me for eight years. During those eight years, I make every effort to please him—I broker arms deals for him, handle smuggling routes, and even take bullets meant for him. Even when he sees me barely clinging to life, Stefano only says, "If you really wanted to please me, you should have let the bullet hit somewhere fatal." I press my hand over the wound and stare deeply at him. Later, on the night our enemies surround the casino and it's raining bullets, Stefano pushes me away from him. He's riddled with bullets himself while saving me. Before he dies, he shields me and gets me safely into the car. Once the car door closes, he says softly, "In the next life, I don't want to meet you again." After Stefano dies, his Madre slaps me hard across the face. "Why wasn't it you who died? If I had known it would come to this, I would have let him marry Lucia! "It's all my fault for forcing him to marry you. You deserve to die!" She slaps me again, causing me to lose my footing and fall into the sea. Everyone just stands on the boat, watching in silence. Seawater fills my nose, and when I open my eyes again, I find myself reborn eight years into the past—to the day before Stefano and I are about to get married. This time, I will do as he wishes. I'll stop clinging to him. I'll allow him and Lucia to be together.

When Vivienne Carter married Sebastian Cross at twenty-two, everyone said how lucky she was. He was ten years older, a mafia Don with terrifying power in his hands, and yet for three years he doted on her alone. He indulged her in everything, kept her sheltered under his wing, tender and attentive down to the smallest detail. Only in the dead of night did he turn possessive and overpowering, taking without limit, never once relenting even when she begged him through tears. She had always been certain she was the one thing he loved. Then her father died without warning. Drowning in grief, she called him ninety-nine times, and every call was cut off. In an instant, a single photo shattered every illusion she had. On a Paris street softened by dusk, the man she'd loved for three years was bending to hold another woman. That woman, gentle-featured and faintly resembling her, was her cousin.