Plot Twists Short Stories & Bias Face Slapping Novels

My daughter, Amelia Rossum, comes home with her palm pierced all the way through by a pencil. I drop my mop in a panic, hastily change out of my loungewear, and rush her to the ER. At the hospital entrance, my husband, Benedict Rossum, jumps out of his car and immediately lashes out at me. "How could you let this happen to her?" Our neighbor, Lorelei Bates, trails behind him, holding her daughter's hand. She addresses him gently, "Benedict, don't be so hard on Clarissa. Everyone makes mistakes." He scoffs. "Other mothers can keep their kids safe perfectly fine. What's her excuse? I bet she did this on purpose to guilt me into coming home early!" Amelia recoils and hides behind me. Seeing her reaction, Benedict crouches down and immediately softens his voice. "Don't be scared, Amelia. I'm right here. You can tell me what happened. I'll make it right." "Really?" She steals anxious glances at me. I shake my head, silently telling her not to say anything. With Lorelei standing right there, we don't stand a chance. She always finds a way to twist the truth against us. Benedict shoves me aside and picks Amelia up. "Clarissa, are you trying to scare her into keeping quiet? What kind of mother are you? What, did you stab her hand on purpose, too?" "No, it wasn't Mommy!" Amelia bursts into sobs. Benedict gently pats her back, his eyes reddening with distress. "It must hurt a lot, doesn't it, Amelia? Tell me what happened to your hand." She's sobbing so hard that she can barely catch her breath. After a long while, she finally points at Lorelei's daughter and says in between sobs, "Penelope and her friends stabbed me."

My little brother got himself a girlfriend. The moment the news reached them, the whole family lit up. My sister, Serena, clapped so hard her palms cracked. "Who is she? Which lucky girl caught our handsome Tyler's eye?" Mom's face glowed like the credit was hers. "Look who raised him. It was only a matter of time before some girl noticed." Dad couldn't stop grinning. "That's my boy. Good for you, son!" The second they caught Tyler looking embarrassed, they pressed their advantage. "So it's like that, is it? Thanksgiving's almost here. Bring her home. We want to meet her." Then it was my turn, and all they managed were a couple of flat, dutiful lines. "Adrian, you're not as good-looking as your brother, and you've never been quick with words. You're lucky anybody wants you." "So don't be picky. Just lock the wedding in and be done with it." Serena tossed in a joke without even looking up. "Right. Five years, and she still hasn't dumped you — she's even talking marriage. She must be a decent person." They never asked whether my girlfriend was good to me. They never asked whether her parents were decent people. They never once asked to meet her. They just approved the marriage. Not because she was good enough. Because in their eyes, I was worth nothing at all. I let out a slow breath and drank down my tea. It had gone cold a long time ago. If they didn't love me, then I'd go pick a family that did. From now on, we go our separate ways.

Six years into our long-distance relationship, I tell my girlfriend, Claire Whitmore, that I'm too busy with work to spend her birthday with her. Behind her back, I secretly take the property deed with me and board a ten-hour flight to her city. I want to propose to her in front of all our friends and surprise her. While waiting for my ride, I use my work phone to reply to a few messages, then casually scroll through my social media feed. The first post I see is from my childhood friend, Ryan Cole. "I'm going to be a godfather! My goddaughter is 8.5 pounds. I'm so happy!" I open the photo and see Claire and Damian Pierce posing together, a baby between them. My mind goes completely blank. I scroll through Ryan's other posts and discover that they're all about Claire and Damian's life together. Every moment from the past six years has been documented, from when they first met and fell in love to their marriage and the birth of their child. In their wedding group photo, I even spot several of my closest friends. My heart sinks. They all know about this. I'm the only one who's been kept in the dark for six years.

I come across a highly upvoted answer in a forum titled, "How Far Into a Relationship Do You Need to Be Before Getting Married?" The answer reads, "I have been in a seven-year relationship. I finally get to call my dream woman my wife." I look at the photos attached to the post, with screenshots of countless daily interactions and two marriage certificates. I am slightly surprised when I notice that the woman's name is identical to my girlfriend's. It's only when I look closely at the photos that I realize Thea Jordan has cheated on me. I open the comment section, and the first comment is from Calvin Dawson, my childhood friend. "Thanks for making me your best man, Hayden! Wishing you and Thea all the best!" I feel as if someone has stabbed me in the chest. I find myself losing my composure several times before calling Calvin to press him for answers. Calvin remains quiet for a long time before he finally sighs and says, "They've been together for eight years. They even got married yesterday, at the same wedding venue you liked. I'm the one who told them not to tell you. "You're uneducated and hot-tempered, so you'd just throw a fit and put Hayden on the spot. Hayden had also stayed by Thea's side for all these years without a real status in the relationship, so now he's finally getting what he deserves. You shouldn't hold it against them, William." I feel my blood run cold after hearing all of that. What about the nine years I spent loving Thea? Do those years mean nothing? I look at Thea's slightly protruding belly in the photo. She's carrying my child while marrying another man. It really is true, then. She never loved me from the very beginning.

I return home from studying abroad and find a new future sister-in-law waiting for me. Sandra Zimmer acts like she's already the lady of the house and the Slater family's daughter-in-law. She even vows to put me, her sister-in-law-to-be, whom she's never met, in my place. But no one tells her that my older brother, Wallace Slater, is adopted. I'm the Slater family's only heir, and even Wallace has to answer to me.

How terrifying is a man who's a simp and knows that he's one? In three years of dating, I've transferred six million dollars to my girlfriend, Nadine Stark. I made sure every transaction was labeled as a willing gift. I know she only sees me as her personal ATM, but I still go along with it. We break up over something ridiculous. I'm a little late in transferring money to her once, and she screams at me to get lost over and over again. So I do. That's when Nadine loses it. She starts stalking and harassing me, and she spreads rumors about me. She claims I have an STD, that I've stolen her gold necklace worth 150 thousand dollars, and that I've abused her cat to death. In the end, I lose all hope in her and switch to being a simp for someone else instead. But she's still not okay with that. Nadine actually drops to her knees before me to apologize and slaps herself across the face. She breaks down in tears and begs me to take her back. She wants me to love her again.

My gastritis medication fell out of my bag during my engagement party. My best friend, Celeste Sims, frowned and said, "Didn't I tell you not to take birth control pills? They’re bad for your health!" I shook my head weakly. "Birth control pills? You're mistaken, Celeste. This is my gastritis medication. I’ve never used—" Before I could finish my sentence, I was suddenly reminded that my fiancé, Justin Ludwig, always gave this medicine to his friend, Callie Fuller. After looking everywhere for Justin, I heard him and Callie having 'fun' in the storeroom upstairs. I did not make a fuss as I quietly turned on the recently repaired security camera in the storeroom.

When my biological parents bring me home, Edward Sullivan, the son they had raised in my place, strongly opposes holding a welcome-home party for me. Left with no choice, my parents have me draw lots in the form of blind boxes just to be fair. However, I draw negative responses all three times, so they postpone the ceremony by a week. Five days later, my girlfriend, Zoe Ludwig, drops by to discuss our engagement. Edward fell in love with her at first sight and immediately demanded that she marry him instead. Marriage is no trivial matter. My parents surely won't indulge him. To my surprise, they once again have me draw a blind box to keep things fair. I nervously selected a box. Once again, it contained a “No.” Believing that I had simply been unlucky, I felt frustrated and dejected. That is what I thought until I overhear someone speaking in Franich in the restroom. "Dad, thank goodness you and Mom thought of using blind boxes. If you hadn't fixed the blind boxes, I wouldn't have been able to be with Zoe!" That is when I realize that the blind boxes aren't intended to ensure fairness but are instead used as a cover for favoritism. Having lived in Franica for some time, they assume I don't understand Franich. However, my adoptive father, Howard Jordan, has long since obtained a permanent residence permit in Franica. Instead of exposing them, I quietly call Howard. Since I'm not welcome here, I'm not wasting my time on them any longer!

Cole Sullivan's intermittent amnesia has lasted for three years. Every so often, he'll forget me and fall hopelessly in love with my younger sister, Roselle White. The night before our wedding, he loses his memory again. I sit right beside his hospital bed, yet his eyes pass over me as if I weren't there and land once again on Roselle. Mom and Dad have long since gotten used to smoothing things over. "Rach, you know about Cole's condition. Don't take it personally." I make an excuse to leave. Halfway down the hall, I realize I've forgotten my phone. I've just reached the door when I hear my family laughing and talking inside the room. "So, Cole, how do you plan to tell Rachel about your wedding with Roselle?" Mom asks. "I'll book her a trip around Eurora. By the time she gets back, everything will be settled," Cole answers. "And when you do 'marry' Rachel, we can give her a fake marriage certificate to fool her for a while," Dad adds with a laugh. Roselle sounds hesitant. "What if Rach finds out?" "Then, she finds out," Cole says indifferently. "Saves us the trouble of coming up with more lies, anyway." I stand outside the door, my fingertips turning cold. It turns out his so-called intermittent amnesia in the last three years has been a mere performance, written and directed for me alone to watch. I sink to the floor and slowly pull off the glaring engagement ring I've been wearing, then toss it into the trash can in the hallway. Since no one here truly cares about me, I'll give them exactly what they want and disappear from their lives for good.

In our third year of marriage, my wife's kept boy toy decided he wanted to break up with her. He left her nothing but a long, dramatic message and blocked her on every platform before she could respond. [You can't give me what I actually want. I don't want to keep dragging this out with you.] I watched my wife's romantic drama play out with a cold, distant expression. After three years of them breaking up and getting back together more times than I could count, I figured this was nothing new. I expected Elena Sheridan to rush straight to coax him back like always. But this time, she was ice cold about it. "He was just a plaything I kept around for amusement. Now he thinks he can threaten me with a breakup? I’ve clearly indulged him too much." But a month later, the news broke online. He'd jumped from a building. The woman who had always been cold and unfeeling completely fell apart.

It is 1:00 am, and I'm still in the inspection office in the suburban power plant, compiling the equipment defect records for the week. Suddenly, there's loud kicking at my door. Brad Greer's panicked voice rings out. "Sam! Come with me right now! The pressure-regulating valve on the main steam pipe of Unit 4 is completely stuck! "The automatic pressure relief device didn't get activated! If it explodes, the three maintenance workers in the control room next door will be burned to a crisp!" Just as I grab my hard hat and am about to rush out, an anonymous encrypted email pops up on my office computer. It said, "Don't go there. The three maintenance workers have already been burned to death by the gushing steam. "He is the one who violated regulations by performing the pressurized maintenance after replacing the valve core with a substandard one, and now, it's completely stuck. He's just trying to make you take the blame. "If you touch the valve even once, you'll get your fingerprints all over it. The CCTV footage will show only you fiddling with it. You're going to take the fall for him and spend the rest of your life in jail. "You're going to have to pay tens of millions of dollars in compensation, and the victims' families will even have the right to sell off all your assets for compensation. You'll never have a peaceful life in prison either." The kicking at the door continues, and the hinges on the wooden door are about to fall off. "Samuel Williams! What are you dawdling for? You're the only one in the whole plant now who's received valve debugging training! You're the only one who can do it! "If you come out any later, those three maintenance people are going to be cooked!" I grip the computer mouse and withdraw my hand from the doorknob. I then say, "I'm sorry, but I'm only an inspector, not a maintenance technician. You need to call the plant's emergency number right away."

My husband, Nathan Sidney, is the top doctor in the municipal hospital. However, he refuses to treat my stepsister, Jessica Jepson. He tells me that it's because Jessica's mother, Janice Ferguson, is Dad's mistress, which makes Jessica a mistress' daughter. They don't deserve to be treated by him because they're the ones responsible for tearing my family apart. During a family get-together, we play the "Have You or Haven't You" game. When it's my turn, I confidently say, "I've been treated by Nathan. You haven't." Jessica smiles and pulls out a medical report from her pocket. "Sorry, Cassie. You've lost." Nathan's signature is penned on the report. As I clutch the medical report, I ask hoarsely, "When did this happen?" "Last Wednesday," Nathan replies. "She cut her hand. I can't just ignore her when she's bleeding right in front of me." He smiles and ruffles my hair, saying, "I'm a doctor. I can't ignore a patient. You're so kind, Cassandra. You understand why I had to treat her, right?" In the past, when Jessica secretly tried on my wedding dress, Nathan said that she just liked feeling pretty. When she pawned off the gold bracelet Mom left me, he said she was just greedy, while wiring me money as compensation. I was hospitalized for two weeks after accidentally drinking white wine instead of water because the doctors were trying to protect the pregnancy. When I tell Nathan that Jessica's the one who mixed up the drinks, he says, "She's just a little stupid. You're so kind, Cassandra. You understand that she just made an honest mistake, right?" Today, Nathan has not only broken his promise, but he's also trying to emotionally blackmail me. I simply smile and softly say, "I don't want to understand. I'm done being understanding, Nathan Sidney."

After getting into a car accident, I'm left fully paralyzed and can only spend the rest of my days in a wheelchair. My mind also regresses to that of a three-year-old. However, my wife, Ingrid Sanford, doesn't abandon me. Instead, she quits her job and cares for me for six long years. During our hardest times, even when she has no money for food, she still makes sure I get the best medication she can afford. I can never forget how she sits by my bedside and holds my hand, whispering, "Don't be afraid, Nick. I'm not the kind of woman who will abandon you. Even if you end up being like this all your life, I will still always stay by your side forever. "But if you do get better, please don't forget to hug me back. I've really suffered a lot these past years…" However, in my previous life, when she arranged for someone to repair my oxygen concentrator machine at home, a man showed up using a fake account on the repair platform. He was the one responsible for dragging our peaceful life straight into hell. He locked the door on us and violated Ingrid right under my nose, forcing me to watch helplessly. Even in my dazed and confused state, I could still never forget the despair in her eyes. After reporting the incident to the police, Ingrid suffered from severe depression and ultimately jumped from the hospital rooftop to her death. As for the repairman, Tyler Wilkerson, he was released and walked away scot-free due to insufficient evidence and my health issues which rendered me unable to testify in court. When I finally regained my senses after that, I learned that Ingrid had paid for all my rehabilitation fees in advance before she died. I open my eyes again, and suddenly, I'm back home in our apartment, where the doorbell is ringing. "Hi, I'm here to repair the oxygen concentrator."

After losing his entire retirement savings to a scam, my father-in-law, Kyle Knight, tried to kill himself by overdosing on pills. I frantically called my husband, Joshua Knight, a psychology expert, hoping he could talk his father out of it. "Dad lost his entire retirement fund to a scam. He left a suicide note, and he's trying to kill himself. Come home!" Instead, Joshua snapped at me for making such a big deal out of it. "Your dad's made plenty of bad decisions before. Maybe this'll finally teach him a lesson. Don't bother me with stupid stuff like this again. I'm trying to watch a movie with Vanessa." For a second, I thought he hadn't heard me clearly. I was about to tell him that the man dying was his own father. Then Vanessa Morgan's voice came through the phone. The horror movie scared her. Joshua immediately turned to comfort her. Later, he casually told me to put together a PowerPoint on how my dad got scammed so he could use the case in one of his anti-scam livestreams. I swallowed everything I was about to say and obediently said, "Okay." After all, the person who scammed Kyle out of his retirement savings and drove him to suicide was Vanessa's mother.

I used to be a renowned reporter at the height of my career, but I gave it up to become a stay-at-home dad so I could support my wife, Sarah, in her rising career as a news anchor. Things went downhill fast after our daughter was born. Sarah constantly forgot to pick up formula and neglected our baby, and I kept finding evidence of her ongoing affair with her colleague, Mark. When I went back to the station to apply for my old job, Mark went out of his way to humiliate me. Even when our daughter ended up in the emergency room, Mark did everything he could to make things difficult for us. That was the last straw, and I decided to strike back. During a live broadcast, I exposed their affair to the public with irrefutable evidence. I tendered my resignation to the news director on the spot and immediately took a job at a rival network to start fresh. My new show focused on helping people who had gone through similar betrayals, and my career took off once again. Out of nowhere, Sarah's mother reached out to tell me that Sarah was critically ill. I went to the hospital to visit her, where a tearful Sarah expressed regret for everything she had done. I thought that chapter of my life was finally closed for good, but not long after, I heard a piece of news that turned everything upside down…

At a major press conference, my husband, Julian Winslow, is about to publicly introduce me as the love of his life when his young assistant suddenly walks onto the stage carrying a girl. "Go on, sweetheart. Daddy's calling for you." The room erupts. Reporters start firing questions about Julian's relationship with his assistant, but instead of correcting them, Julian simply takes the little girl into his arms and fastens the company's multimillion-dollar new necklace around her neck. "Yes," he says. "We have a daughter." As I stand silently in the crowd, the reporters turn their attention to me. "Ms. Aldridge, you've been with Mr. Winslow and the company for years. Surely you have something to say on such a special occasion?" I smile. Then I take the designs I spent an entire year perfecting and toss them straight into the assistant's hands. "You can have the designs too. Consider them my gift to your happy little family."

For five years, Julian and I had been a secret. We had our own hidden apartment where, night after night, he could not get enough of me, leaving his insanely possessive marks all over my body. Tonight was no different. But the difference today was that before I could even catch my breath, he suddenly asked for the number of Essa, my family's gorgeous maid. "Darling, don't you think it is too boring to stick to just one woman for the rest of your life?" "She has a killer body. I do not want to give up all the thrills out there just for you." I stared into his eyes for a few seconds, then pushed his hand off my chest. I gave a calm nod. Later, when someone asked me who I was into, I casually dropped the name of my sworn enemy: Kian, the heir to the Santoro family. Julian's face instantly darkened, but I could not care less. However, I ended up bringing unexpected trouble to my doorstep. Kian blocked my doorway, a smirk playing on his lips as he asked, "Didn't you say you were into me?" "What a coincidence. I am into you, too."

My wife, Monica, hated the smell of alcohol, so I had never once seen her drink. Not even at the celebration for my succession as Don did she touch a single drop. That changed at a Family banquet, when a party game broke out halfway through. Monica lost. The penalty: sit on the lap of your one true love and share a lovers' toast. Without a second of hesitation, she picked up her glass, settled onto Dillon's lap, and drank it down. The room erupted in cheers, and every pair of eyes turned to me with the same expectation. They were waiting for me to flip the table and storm out. But I just watched Monica in silence, slid the ring off my finger, and placed a set of divorce papers in front of her. "Divorce." My voice was flat. Monica froze for a beat, then let out a scornful laugh. "All because I didn't drink with you?" "Exactly. That's why." I pushed the papers a little closer.

It took me three years to thaw the frozen heart of Theo, the Mafia's top surgeon, just to marry him. To be his wife, I shut down my documentary studio and locked my Best Director trophy from the independent film festival inside a drawer. I was willing to put away my camera and stay in the shadows as the woman behind the Family's chief surgeon. After he said having a kid in this business was a death sentence, I went to a clinic the very next day and got an IUD. Everyone in our circle was absolutely certain that we would be the perfect power couple. But today, on our fifth wedding anniversary, I decided to get a divorce. My lawyer was my best friend, Jade. She twirled her pen before stopping. "Are you out of your mind? You threw away the title of North America's best independent director for him back then, and now you are telling me you want a divorce?" I swallowed the bitter ache in my chest. "Just draft the divorce papers for me. As soon as possible." She frowned. "But why, Harper?" I looked at the black velvet gift box on the dining table. Inside lay a carefully preserved peony. After a long hesitation, I gave her my answer. "Because of a flower."

During my wedding, someone suggests that we play the game "one dollar and 50 cents". The host will call out an amount that the players will have to match by forming groups. I draw the 50-cent straw, and so does my best friend, Rebecca Cross, who is also the group favorite. My fiance, Ian Chilton, his childhood friend, Richard Price, his older sister, Anne Chilton, and my stepsister, Chelsea Whitmore, all draw one-dollar straws. For the first round, we need to make up a total of 1.50 dollars. I make a beeline toward Ian, but he gazes distractedly at Rebecca. It isn't until he is assured that she won't be eliminated that he finally loosens his painfully tight grip on my hand. Before I can truly feel my disappointment, the second round begins. This time, we need to make up a total of five dollars. Everyone instinctively surges toward Rebecca. I don't pester Ian this time, and he naturally fails to notice that I've been left out. It isn't until the host reminds them that they're 50 cents short that they reluctantly let me into their group. For the third round, we need to make up 2.50 dollars. It's clear that the six of us can conveniently form two groups of said amount, yet they debate heatedly over who gets to be in the group with Rebecca. As time is running out, Richard and Chelsea finally walk reluctantly toward me, having lost in a game of rock-paper-scissors. In the final round, we need to make up 4.50 dollars. As soon as the whistle is blown, they crowd together merrily. Ian even considerately wraps his arm around Rebecca's shoulders out of fear that she'll be jostled. Meanwhile, I'm knocked to the floor by the crowd, my palms digging deeply into splinters sticking out of the wooden floor paneling. From start to finish, nobody spares me a glance. In that instant, everything feels pointless to me. When we played hide-and-seek as children, they only realized I hadn't been "found" after nightfall. When we visited the amusement park as adults, they would always forget to buy my ticket. All things considered, it simply isn't polite to keep trying to fit into a small group that doesn't have room for me.