Cerita Pendek Obsessive & Novel Bias Fake Death

After failing to win over the professor, I went back to my own world. But a year later, the system that made the deal with me came back in tears, begging me to return. It said my target—that cold-blooded psychology professor—was trying to destroy the entire world just to see me one more time. I said no. How could he lose his mind over losing me? His heart had always belonged to his stepsister Vivienne. For Vivienne's sake, he'd dropped me more times than I could count and left a trail of damage behind. Then the system sweetened the offer. Only three months. Come back, and when it was over, it would not only return my feelings but pay me a hundred million on top. So I went back to Sebastian with no emotions left to hurt. I stopped calling him Daddy and started calling him Professor. And somehow, that made him fall apart completely.

Claudia Hepburn had seduced his fiancé, Arthur Maxwell, ninety-nine times. However, he was still into her sister, Fione Hepburn. Not only was he nowhere to be seen on the day of the wedding, but he even went ahead and registered his wedding with Fione instead. Claudia was turned into a laughingstock after that. While she was drowning in despair, Arthur’s brother, Brett Maxwell, showed up and took her into his arms. He confessed that he had been secretly in love with her for ages and beckoned her to turn to him. Enchanted by his devotion, she decided to marry him instead. Even after five years of marriage, Brett still doted on her endlessly. That was until a shipwreck took him away. On the day of the funeral, she was so heartbroken that she felt the urge to smash her head against his coffin to end it all right there. It was only when she found she was pregnant that she gave up on the idea of ending it all. She decided she would live on and grieve her late husband for the rest of her life. Just when she was expecting the rest of her life to play out that way, she happened to eavesdrop on a conversation between her ex-fiancé and his friends. “Brett, your brother was the one who died in that shipwreck, but here you are pretending to be him. Did you do it so you could be together with his wife? Aren’t you worried about someone finding out about this?” “I can't be bothered to worry about all that now, I’ve loved Fione from the beginning. I had to endure so much humiliation and marry Claudia just so I could prevent her from ruining Fione’s happiness. Now that God has given me such a perfect chance, I will not sell myself short anymore!”

On the third anniversary of our son's death, I stood outside the cemetery chapel, holding a bunch of white daisies. From inside, I heard the voice of Giovanna Valeri, my mother-in-law and the former Donna of the Valeri family. "Sooner or later, you'll have to accept that the boy is gone. "But Aria's baby is a Valeri by blood. The family must recognize him as one of our own." I froze outside the door. I'd found Aria abandoned by the roadside when I was a child and taken her home. I couldn't bear the thought of her freezing or starving, so I took her in and raised her like my own sister. And now she was pregnant with my husband's baby. Inside, there was a long silence. Then Niccolo spoke, his voice low. "Tomorrow, I'll call the elders together and make it official. Aria's baby will be recognized as a Valeri. "Don't... tell Elena about this yet." The browning petals were cold to the touch, reminding me of Leo's lifeless body in my arms three years ago. That day, my husband, Niccolo Valeri, had looked at me with red eyes and made me a promise. Our son would not die for nothing. Leo would always be his only child. Three years. That was all it took for him to break his promise. And I was the one person he wanted to keep in the dark.

She had served the king for three years, but the king, seemingly devoid of passion, had summoned her to his bedchamber no fewer than 999 times. When, at last, he succumbed once more to slumber, she slipped carefully from the bed, taking great care not to disturb him. Every mark of their recent intimacy remained upon her person. Very softly, she whistled. Within moments, a dark-cloaked figure alighted upon the window ledge with scarcely a sound. “Have you considered this thoroughly?” Ciaran Noche’s voice was cooler than the night itself. Gathering her robe more tightly about herself, she answered in little more than a whisper. “I have. I wish to quit the palace.” Ciaran regarded her. “Your name is entered in the palace rolls. You cannot simply walk away. Unless you are prepared to feign your own death and forsake your present face for the remainder of your days, there is no escape.” “So be it.” Snow nodded. Whether she must die in the eyes of the world or assume another countenance altogether mattered little. If it purchased her freedom, she would pay the price without hesitation. “I shall return for you in a fortnight.” Ciaran disappeared into the darkness, leaving no trace that he had ever been there. Snow looked up at the slender crescent moon in the sky and released a long, weary sigh. Soon, it would all end. She had never been meant to belong within the palace. Her arrival at court had been nothing more than an accident of fate.

After three years in a psychiatric hospital, I finally escape. Three years ago, I watched my fiance, Ethan Cregger, die in a car accident right in front of me. Already born with a heart condition, I spiraled under the weight of grief. Then everything else fell apart. My family lost everything. Dad seemed to age overnight. Mom cried until there were no tears left. Adrian Mercer, my childhood friend, gave up the money he'd saved to study abroad just to pay for my treatment. Even my younger sister, Mia Bennett, worked three jobs and begged me through tears not to give up on life. Not wanting to burden them any further, I voluntarily admitted myself to a psychiatric hospital. Three years later, I finally make my way back to our old family estate, now supposedly sold, for one reason. I want the bottle of wine Ethan and I buried together years ago. But through the floor-to-ceiling windows, I see a dead man—Ethan. He is alive and well, with his arm wrapped around my sister. My parents look happier and healthier than ever. Adrian is placing a birthday hat on the young boy standing between them. Everyone claps and sings, gathered around the cake like one big, happy family. And suddenly, I understand. Ethan never died. He simply built a new life with my sister. While I spent three years trapped in the past, everyone I love moved on without me. They created an entire lie just for me. Fine. If they've already decided there's no place for me in their lives, then I don't want them anymore.

Just for brushing against the hem of Eva Lawson, the heiress’s custom couture gown, Lucy Quinn's mother had her limbs broken, then thrown into the sea to die. The day Lucy dragged the arrogant heiress to court she thought that justice might finally be served. Eva was declared not guilty. Why? Because the defense attorney representing her was none other than Wyatt Grant, founder of the most untouchable law firm in River City, and Lucy Quinn’s husband. When the trial ended, the elegant and aloof man stepped down from the defense table and placed an apology letter in front of Lucy. "Lulu, sign it. You don’t want to be sued for defamation and end up in prison, do you?" His tone was calm and coaxing, but behind the lenses of his gold-rimmed glasses, his gaze was cold as ice. Lucy, tears stubbornly clinging to her eyes, looked up at him and said with a trembling voice, "Why, Wyatt, Why?"

My husband, who's a negotiation expert, allows his intern to recklessly anger some criminals. It causes me, the hostage, to suffer severe injuries in the explosion, and my right leg breaks because of it. Yet, my husband once again issues a letter of forgiveness for her. "My wife, as a reporter, ignored warnings and forced contact with the criminals to get the scoop. The main responsibility lies with her. Kimberly, being a newcomer, should not bear major fault." I don't cry or make a scene. I simply pull out a divorce agreement. However, he sneers at me. "I know you're just jealous and want me to comfort you, but don't cross the line." For the past three years, I've brought up the topic of divorce 47 times, and each time, he treats it like I'm just throwing a tantrum. But it's different this time. His name has already been signed on this divorce agreement. As long as I add my signature to it, it will take effect immediately.

I'm married to Don Antonio Gallo for ten years. My hands, which are originally meant to play the piano, have learned to assemble guns and take apart bombs for him. I was there with Antonio when he was just a lowly criminal, and I witnessed his entire journey to the summit, where he claimed the throne as the king of the underground casino. But right after Antonio becomes successful in life, he gets infatuated with a pure and innocent maiden from the slums. That maiden is Silvia Bianchi. She was delivered to Antonio's bed like cargo. A maiden like her is as pure as an angel, yet so delicate like porcelain. For the first time ever, Antonio, who's already used to bloodshed and violence, gets a taste of addiction. He's really good at hiding her presence. I only find out about it when I accidentally come across him and Silvia attending a prenatal checkup together. When I break down and demand an explanation from Antonio, he just hands over a divorce agreement nonchalantly. "Silvia doesn't have anyone to rely on, nor does she have a home to go back to. Once she has a proper title, she and her baby won't get bullied anymore. "If you sign this document, I'll give you 20% of my shares. Once Silvia gives birth to her baby, I'll make sure that the baby acknowledges you as their mother as well. Consider this my compensation to you." Of course, I can't accept it at all. I end up slapping Silvia on the face during her baby's first party. That night, my younger brother, Paolo Romano, gets crippled and strapped to the front of an armored truck. "This is the lesson you shall learn for hurting Silvia, Valentina!" I kneel on the ground and beg Antonio to stop. But the moment the engine starts, I feel Paolo's blood being sprayed all over my face. Sharp pain flares from my abdomen immediately. I can only clutch it while screaming hysterically before passing out. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Antonio and Silvia are attending a prenatal checkup together. This time, I no longer ask Antonio any questions. Instead, I secretly sell all of the jewelry I've secretly kept and buy myself two plane tickets. Now, I just want to escape from Antonio with Paolo by my side.

My fiancé, Elio Santoro, is the Don of the Santoro family, one of the five major mafia families in Castellano. During a gang attack, he is shot and loses his memory, causing him to completely forget me. I try again and again to help him recover his memory, but every attempt fails. One day, I go to find him with the contract after finalizing a major drug transport deal with a foreign group on his behalf. By chance, I overhear his conversation with his first love, Sofia Rossi. "Elio, according to our bet, you've already reached level 98 in this game. Two more levels, and I will become the true Donna of the Santoro family." I feel like I've been tossed into an icy lake. So his amnesia is fake, and our seven years together are all a lie. Since the beginning, this is just a cruel game he is playing to amuse his first love, and I am nothing but a toy. Later, I get into a car accident on my way to meet Sofia. Elio rushes into the fire like a madman. The moment he sees my burned corpse, he loses his mind.

After confessing 101 times to my childhood sweetheart, Morgan Lambert, he marries his first love, Cassandra White. With my heart in ruins, I leave him behind and marry his younger brother, James Lambert, who has pursued me relentlessly from the start. After marriage, James dotes on me to an extreme. His love is bold and intense. Everyone says I am unbelievably lucky to have married such a devoted man. As Cassandra and I sink into the water together, I can only watch as James dives in recklessly. He struggles through the water toward her, giving her mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. I thrash and struggle in desperation, begging him to look at me even once. He never does. His entire focus is on getting her to shore, leaving me behind to be swallowed by the sea. While I am unconscious, I hear him and Morgan fighting violently in the hospital, arguing over who gets to stay by Cassandra's bedside. He roars in anguish, "I sacrificed myself by marrying Elsa so she wouldn't stand in the way of you and Cassie's happiness. Can you at least let me see Cassie once?" That is when I finally understand that none of them has ever loved me. I immediately arrange to fake my death, preparing to vanish from their lives completely. Yet after hearing the news of my so-called death, James—who's always calm—loses control. He pushes Cassandra aside, bends over, and coughs up blood. Overnight, he seems to age decades.