Bias Countdown-Kurzgeschichten & -Kurzromane

It was Christmas Eve. Once again, my parents left me alone at home, chasing triple pay at work. However, after twenty years of the same lonely holiday, I couldn’t take it anymore. I didn’t want to sit in the quiet house by myself again, so I packed up some sandwiches and went to them. What I didn’t expect was to see them stepping out of a luxury car, arms linked with a boy who looked about my age, laughing like they didn’t have a care in the world, heading straight into a five-star hotel. “Mom, Dad, is it okay to leave Suzie all alone at home like that?” My mom waved it off and said, “It’s fine. She’s used to it.” My dad just brushed it off with a chuckle. “She’s nothing like you. You're our real treasure.” Upon hearing that, I turned and walked away. They'd been pretending to be broke all these years, lying to me about working overtime, about scraping by. Well, fine. If they don’t want me, I’m done wanting them, too.

After Damian abandoned Noah and me for Sofia and Luca yet again, we finally learned to stop asking. He took them to family dinners and interviews, even let Luca sit in the seat that had always belonged to Noah. I stopped arguing. So did Noah. He gave the gold pistol that marked Noah as his heir to Luca as a birthday gift, and Noah simply nodded obediently and wished Luca a happy birthday. Three days later, Noah fell down the stairs and struck his head against a step. He lost consciousness and was taken to the hospital with a mild concussion. Damian arrived after I had already spent the night outside the emergency room. “Elena, why didn’t you call me? I’m Noah’s father too.” “It’s nothing serious. He’ll be discharged after two days of observation. I knew you were busy. Noah understands.” Damian’s expression darkened. “A concussion is nothing serious? What kind of mother are you? If you’re angry with me, say it. Don’t pretend you don’t care and drag our son into it.” I nodded. “Okay. I understand.” He stared at me, probably waiting for the argument I would have started before. I didn’t. Our plane tickets were booked for five days later. Once I took Noah away from New York, none of this would matter anymore.

After losing my pup, I submitted an application to the Werewolf Council to sever my mate bond. In six days, the bond would be severed at midnight. I would take my pup's memorial box, drive through the highway checkpoint north of Silverpine Pack's territory, and never return. Lucien still had no idea any of this would happen. He was holding my adopted sister's newborn pup while asking me to wait a little longer. "Kayla lost her mate. She needs someone to take care of her right now. Once she's feeling better, I'll spend more time with you." My parents said I still had Lucien, while Kayla had lost almost everything. I shouldn't compete with her for a few days of Lucien's attention. Even my best friend told me to move on from the night I lost my pup. So I stopped asking why no one had answered my calls for help that night. I packed away my medical records, returned the house keys, and deleted every name from my emergency contacts. Lucien thought I had finally learned to let go. What he didn't know was that I had deleted his name too.

After I switched bodies with my driver, I ended up trapped in the body of an overweight, unattractive man everyone looked down on. My sister Joanne Harper and my fiancée, Serena Lane, did everything they could to find a way to switch us back. Joanne hired an exorcist and even gave her own blood for the ritual. Serena climbed three thousand icy steps to a remote mountaintop chapel in the middle of a blizzard, dropping to her knees in prayer every few steps. But Julian Brown, now living in my body, looked at them pitifully. “My romance system says we can only switch back if both of you truly fall in love with me.” From that day on, Joanne appeared to indulge his every whim, buying him sports cars and mansions. Behind his back, she made it up to me tenfold, a hundredfold. In public, Serena kissed him and acted affectionate. The moment she turned away, she looked like she wanted to scrub herself head to toe with disinfectant. I thought they were forcing themselves through all of it for my sake. Until one day, I accidentally overheard my sister talking to my fiancée. “The exorcist said that in three more days, they’ll be stuck like this permanently.” “Julian is so innocent. He deserves a good life. Asher’s always been spoiled and arrogant. Maybe this will finally teach him a lesson.” What they didn’t know was that I had a system too. And if I didn’t get my body back in three days, I would die.

My older sister, Bianca, fled with her lover the night before she was supposed to marry Adrian Vescari. The marriage secured a truce between two Mafia families. If Bianca failed to appear, the Bellandis would lose the Commission’s protection—and might not survive the winter. Because Bianca and I looked almost identical, my father forced me into her wedding dress. Adrian recognized me the moment he lifted my veil. “You’re not Bianca.” I expected him to expose the deception. Instead, he said, “Since you’re already here, stay.” So I stayed for seven years. Adrian protected me, cared for me, and made me believe I was more than Bianca’s replacement. I gave up traveling with my camera and devoted myself to his estate, trusts, and family, waiting for the day I could finally stand beside him under my own name: Mara Bellandi. Then Bianca came home. She claimed she had been forced to flee on the eve of the wedding because someone was trying to kill her, and that she had spent the past seven years in hiding. Adrian believed every word, carried her into our home, stayed at her bedside, and said he owed her everything she had lost. As Bianca began reclaiming her inheritance, her place in the family, and pieces of my marriage, I returned to the Bellandi cemetery. There, I found my own grave. My parents had declared Mara Bellandi dead on the night I married Adrian. While I lived as his wife, the world believed I no longer existed. If everyone needed Mara Bellandi to disappear, I would give them exactly what they wanted. This time, I would arrange my own death. When I woke again, Mrs. Vescari would be gone.

The entire New York mafia world knows that Don Alessandro of the Rossi family takes a brutal punishment from the Council every year just to marry me. Because the Rossi family has a strict rule: all marriages must be approved by the Council. Yet, for three years in a row, Alessandro submitted our marriage application, and every time, it was rejected! The first year, he was locked in solitary confinement for three days and nights. The second year, his back was whipped raw. The third year, he even knelt in a torrential downpour to beg for their mercy. I always thought it was my fault, that I just wasn’t good enough to meet the Council's standards. It wasn't until the fourth year that I found out all those rejection letters from the Council were forged by Alessandro himself. And the reason was Mia—his secretary who had been secretly obsessed with him for years. "Mia has been by my side for eight years. She took a bullet for me. She held me and cried, saying the day I get married would be the darkest day of her life." "I love Jane, but I just can't bear to hurt Mia." "It just means marrying Jane a little later. She loves me so much, she won't mind." But he was wrong. Even though my heart was breaking, I didn't want this kind of love anymore. I called my father: "Dad, I'm ready to come back to Italy and marry the Don of the Caruso family."

After we'd had a fight, my childhood sweetheart, Adrian Hale, deliberately agreed to take a sophomore named Sienna Reed to Beach House Week on Cape Cod. He was certain I'd do what I always did: get jealous, start a fight, then swallow my pride and beg him to come home. But when he returned to Kingsley University with Sienna a week later, he found me unexpectedly easy to deal with. He gave Sienna my lead creator slot in the National Robotics Challenge. I didn't quit. I organized her test data and rewrote her presentation for her. He backed Sienna in the student council election and picked apart my work during the public debate. I didn't argue. I admitted I could have prepared better and calmly watched her take my seat. Then he tried to hand Professor Moretti's recommendation to her too. I still didn't lose my temper. I even delivered a neatly organized application checklist to Sienna myself. Smug with victory, she told him, "See? You can't keep spoiling a woman like Claire. Give her the cold shoulder, knock her down a peg, and she'll learn to behave." Adrian agreed. He told her she understood people better than anyone. Afterward, he came to see me alone. He promised he'd secure me a direct-entry PhD position at Kingsley and, in an astonishing show of generosity, said he'd propose in front of everyone at graduation. But Adrian had forgotten one small detail. While he was busy entertaining Sienna at Beach House Week, he'd personally approved my transfer to Zurich. I packed the commemorative pin, old records, and love letters he'd given me into a box and sent them back. The Hale family ring he'd planned to propose with would never touch my finger. I was headed for a much bigger world, and I wasn't coming back.

My childhood friend called, saying he was trapped in a fire. He wanted to hear my voice one last time, and I rushed to the scene as fast as I could. But in that small, blazing spot, there was only a cat. Stumbling, I got the cat out, but my arms got burned. A crowd gathered, pointing at me and laughing hysterically. "She actually went for it?" "What a simp, risking her life like that!" Safe and sound, Colin Porter stepped out of the crowd with a grin. He picked up the cat from my arms and handed it to his crush. "See? I told you the cat would be fine. When have I ever lied to you?" Turning back to me, he said, "The cat got spooked and ran into the fire. We didn't know what to do, so we called you. Thank you for your help." The people around us snickered, like they were watching a trained dog. Later, on my wedding day, my husband carried me to the car. Colin, dragging his burned, bloody legs, crawled on the ground. He begged, "I'm hurt, Selena! Come help me!"

How much could an Alpha compensate a woman before the compensation started to look like a joke? Kaelan Blackthorne was very good at compensating me. He was rich enough to own mines, ports, a pharmaceutical empire, and half a financial district. He was also the strongest Alpha the Blackthorn Pack had produced in centuries. And I was his unmarked mate. For three years, every time he postponed our mate ceremony to comfort Vera, his widowed sister-in-law, he sent me another gift. A blue diamond necklace. A room of couture gowns. His mother’s platinum crown. Every time a velvet box arrived at my door, Vera sent me a video. [So what if he buys you pretty things? I’m the one he stays with when the moon rises.] [You get his guilt. I get his time.] I didn’t cry. I didn’t beg. I didn’t grab his sleeve and ask why he was leaving me behind again. When Kaelan postponed the ceremony for the sixth time, he finally promised it would happen in three days. This time, I only picked the most expensive crown on the list and handed him the transfer papers. He signed without looking. For the first time in days, his eyes softened. “After the ceremony, Eve, I’ll take you to the Full Moon Vow Ball. Every pack will know you’re mine.” I smiled, put the papers away, and said, “Okay.” I just didn’t tell him what he had really signed. It wasn’t another gift list. It was my application to cancel our mate ceremony.

The fifth year of my husband's affair, the system that had gone silent finally reappeared, telling me that I could go home. In the final week, I stopped arguing with him. I allowed him to go out with other women and stay out all night, and let him give away the things that I treasured the most to someone else. The day I was meant to leave was our fifth wedding anniversary. He burst into the house with Ivy, knocking over the food I'd prepared and pointing a shard of broken glass at me as he pinned me down by the neck. In a fit of rage, he questioned why I hurt Ivy and the baby she was carrying. "Since when did you become this cruel? You make me sick!" I smiled, not bothering to defend myself. "I did it all, and I really am that cruel. What, did you only realize that now? "Anyway, I wish you two a long, happy life together." As he stared me down, I viciously stabbed the artery in my neck, and my life in this world was finally over.

The heir to Ashbourne's most powerful family was hopelessly in love with me. We met when we were children. When we turned 17, he couldn't wait any longer and confessed his feelings. At 20, he sold his favorite heirloom bracelet to buy me a rose-quartz necklace and told me I would always be his princess. At 24, I was diagnosed with leukemia. He donated his bone marrow to save me, despite his family's wishes. At 30, he became a business titan. One day, he proposed to me in the grandest way possible via a global livestream. No one would have believed that a man so devoted had secretly been keeping the fake heiress who framed me by his side for three full years. All those years of love suddenly seemed like a dream, and now… I had been slapped awake. So, I made arrangements to fake my death. From that moment on, he and I would never see each other again.

In the seventh year of marrying into the Dawson family, Amanda Dawson's childhood friend, Leroy Blanchard, has returned from overseas. Leroy is very outgoing and handsome, not to mention he's extremely capable, too. Soon, he becomes the apple of everyone's eye. Even my father-in-law, who has never liked me, to begin with, has nothing but praises for Leroy. On Leroy's birthday, Amanda spends a huge amount of money in organizing his birthday party before declaring her love for him in a high-profile manner. The entire city is waiting to watch me, the legally-wedded husband, embarrass myself just so I can kick up a huge fuss over the whole thing. But I merely smile faintly before packing my things and getting ready to leave. I've been in this world for seven years. Finally, I'm about to finish acting out all of my scenes as the lovesick male supporting lead.

As the Principessa of the Falcone family, I craved danger and absolute freedom. But on my ninety-ninth attempt to escape my arranged marriage, Vito Moretti finally caught me. My dangerously handsome betrothed cornered me at an underground racetrack. "No one walks away from me, Liliana," he smirked from his modified Mustang. "You're the first." With my weakness for dangerous men, I made a life or death wager. "Beat me on the track, and I'll marry you. Lose, and you get out of my life." Our engines roared as we tore along the cliffside road, its curves dangerously free of guardrails. Nearing the finish line, I took a turn too fast and hurtled toward the edge. But just inches from victory, Vito jerked his wheel. He slammed his car into mine, knocking me to safety as his own plunged into the icy bay below. I scrambled down the cliff, terrified, and dragged his bleeding body from the water. "I lost," he gasped, life fading from his eyes. "You're free." My heart shattered into a million dazzling pieces as tears streamed down my face. Startled by my reaction, Vito swore softly. "Don't cry. I'll tell our fathers the broken engagement was my choice. No one will dare lay a finger on you." I sobbed and pressed my lips to his. "To hell with the bet, Vito Moretti. I'm marrying you!"

Clarence, the Vampire Prince, fell for me the moment he laid eyes on me. And I fell for him just as hard, just as hopelessly. I accepted his Embrace. The whole dark world knew he loved me more than life itself. He branded the rune of our blood bond directly over his heart. That lasted five centuries. Then I got the video from his new blood doll—a human stripper named Seraphina. She was sprawled naked in his lap, fresh bite marks dotting her throat. Using her own blood, she’d painted a crude sigil right beside the sacred rune meant only for me. And my mate had let her. “Clarence says my young blood is the only thing that makes him feel alive anymore,” she purred. “He says you’re a dead fish in bed, darling Molly. Time for the new generation to take over.” I didn't bother to reply. My fingers were steady as I contacted an ancient witch. “I need a glamour,” I said, my voice even and low. “A perfect human shell. One that will hide everything—my scent, my trail. All of it.”

To make it in time for the birthday of a childhood acquaintance, Lockard locked me inside the tower of our estate. As fate would have it, that very day, the estate was attacked by a rival family. Trembling, I hid in a corner and called the Underboss on his encrypted private line. “Help me… I’m locked in the tower. Someone has broken in—” But the response on the other end was cold and indifferent. “Ma’am, the Godfather instructed us that you might cause a disturbance today just to get his attention. Please cooperate and don’t make this difficult for us.” The line went dead. I contacted the family’s security adviser instead. After verifying the situation, the adviser hesitated before telling me, “Ma’am, your identification code has been temporarily frozen. We need Don Vito’s personal confirmation before we can lift the security alert.” The call was transferred to Lockard, who was attending the party. He said only one thing: “She’s throwing another tantrum. Ignore her.” Heavy footsteps drew closer and closer from the end of the hallway. I twisted the heavy curtains into a makeshift rope and climbed over the third-floor window ledge. I survived. But the family doctor told me: I was pregnant. The baby was gone. And that very night, in the banquet hall on the other side of the estate, Lockard was personally cutting birthday cake for his childhood acquaintance.

In the seventh year of Julia Fenner's marriage to Colonel Everett Warden, she carried her family papers to the housing office to buy a subsidized faculty apartment and was told the record in her hand was a forgery. How could that be possible? Certain the clerk had made a mistake, Julia politely asked her to check again. "My husband transferred my records after we married." The clerk checked the county and military-family registry again, her patience visibly thinning, and looked at Julia with something close to scorn. "There's no mistake. Everett Warden's lawful record lists two other people: his wife, Lydia Warden, and their son, Peter."

On our third wedding anniversary, Lorenzo Falcone came back from Sicily with a chest of jewels. Without thinking, he slid the chest toward my sister Vella and told her to pick first. I stared, eyes wide, and the disappointment slipped out before I could stop it: "Lorenzo. It's our anniversary. Don't I get to choose first?" He faltered for just a second. Then he said: "Lily, as a Donna, you should know how to be gracious. You can't always act like a little girl." I'd heard that for over twenty years. Since I was a child, the eldest daughter of the family, I'd long learned to step aside. Give up the horse I loved. Give up my grandfather's keepsake. Give up the chance to study abroad. Give up the voice that should've been mine. My father told me to be sensible. My mother told me to protect my little sister. When I met Lorenzo, I really thought—foolishly—that I was done giving things up. He'd pull me behind him when the gunshots rang out. He'd hold my hand when the nightmares jolted me awake. He'd say it in front of everyone, so sure of himself: "Lily is my only choice." But I was wrong. Not long after we got married, Vella moved in with us. She said she couldn't bear to be apart from me. Lorenzo promised he would treat her like his own flesh and blood, give her a little extra care. But somewhere along the way, extra attention turned into her first—without him even noticing. After she'd made her picks, she handed me the leftover brooch. Old. Tarnished. "This one suits you, sis." I looked at her. Forced a bitter smile. "Take it all. I don't want any of it." Quietly, I slipped my wedding ring off my finger and tucked it into my bag. Three days from now, I'll place it beside the divorce papers on his pillow. And then I'll walk away. From him. From this city that was never mine to begin with.

I have been with Leone Donato, the don to a Mafia family, for four years. During those four years, he lets me live in the family estate but rarely tells me anything about the family's affairs. I fool myself into believing it's simply his cold, guarded nature. As the don to a Mafia family, he has to be cautious. Many of his secrets aren't ones he can easily share with others. But then, on the very day we are supposed to apply for a marriage license, I receive a screenshot of a private Mafia family group chat. "Ladies, I hear Leone's childhood sweetheart, Camilla Conti, is back in the country. Do you think Leone will still apply for a marriage license with Isola Munari tomorrow?" "Hard to say. After all, the family trust reserves 15% of the family business's profits for Camilla. All Isola gets is the family agreeing to accept her as the Donna and let her attend family meetings." Someone asks, "Then why exactly does Leone want to marry Isola?" Someone replies in the screenshot, "Because she's obedient, I guess. After all, for Leone's sake, she turns down an offer from Bellamare's top research institute. She even drives herself to a private clinic while suffering from a high fever. "Leone's exact words are, 'Isola can't live without me, and she doesn't care about any of that anyway.'" Obedient… So, in the eyes of the family, I am nothing more than an obedient lover. As I stare at those words, I slip off my diamond ring and place it on the partially signed prenuptial agreement. Then, I open my email and type, "Professore Ferrante, I've changed my mind. If the position at the research institute is still available, I'll join it this time."

"If you offend Alpha Carlen, Luna Irene might plead for you. But if you cross Luna Irene, there won't even be a scrap of you left." That's a widely circulated saying in the werewolf upper circles. I'm Irene Chandler. Because of one game, I've decided to dissolve the mate bond with Carlen Alvarado. During the game, he says drunkenly, "I love resting my head on the belly of an expecting she-wolf and listening to the pup's heartbeat." The room falls silent. Every werewolf turns to look at me. There's no surprise in their eyes. What I see is their pity for me, the rightful Luna, and a flicker of panic that their secret has been exposed. At that moment, I understood everything. They all know Carlen has a pup with another woman. They've been helping him hide it from me. That's because they know I'm Carlen's everything. I'll leave him if I ever find out. And if I leave, he'll lose his mind. I have to admit that they know me well. After learning the truth, I plan to do three things. First, I toss the wedding ring Carlen designed for me into the furnace. Second, I save the video of Lily Chalvez flaunting her pregnancy to provoke me onto a flash drive. Third, I submit documents to the Pack Affairs Department, applying to become a researcher on the isolated Icebound Island. The day I leave the pack happens to be our seventh wedding anniversary. I'll vanish from his life like a wisp of smoke.

The day after my C-section, I had a divorce attorney come to the hospital. The person handling my case was my husband Daniel's younger sister, Emily Markham. She stared at me for a long time, disbelief written all over her face. "What are you doing? You just had my brother's baby yesterday!" My voice stayed flat. "Your brother didn't even wait for me to finish giving birth before he went out on a boat with Rebecca Lennox. "Why would I keep a husband like that?" Emily was quiet for a few seconds, but she still defended him. "Rebecca just got divorced, and her depression's really bad. My brother's a doctor. He couldn't stop worrying about her. "He only went to check on her because he felt responsible. Do you really have to take it as far as divorce? "The baby was just born. How can he not have a father?" My expression cold, I cut her off. "He does have a father. His father just decided he didn't want him first." Emily went pale. She reached for my hand, testing the waters. "I know my brother's always been way too invested in Rebecca, but that's only because they grew up together. "We all know he loves you. Please don't divorce him, okay?" I met her hopeful gaze, and the corner of my mouth twitched. I pulled my arm free and called the law firm. "Your attorney isn't very professional. I'd like a different one."