Plot Twists Short Stories & Bias Fake Death Novels

My husband, an Army regimental commander, was killed in action. Before his body was even cold, I didn't hesitate. I filed for his death certificate and notified the Army, the Social Security Administration, and our bank. Then, three days later—on the very day his twin brother married his childhood sweetheart—I moved out, changed the locks, and remarried quietly at the courthouse, taking my son and the full line-of-duty death benefits with me. To everyone else, I was heartless. Cold. I let them curse me. I just looked into my “brother-in-law's” bloodshot eyes and felt a quiet, cruel satisfaction. Only I knew the truth. In my last life, I discovered the body sent home wasn't my husband's at all—it was his identical twin brother's. I ran to confront him, but by chance I overheard him and my mother-in-law whispering. "Mom, Sarah is strong. And we have our son. She'll be okay. The benefits will take care of her. But Amy has waited for my brother all these years. If she finds out he's dead, she might do something drastic." Their words struck me like lightning. I tried to expose them, but my husband knocked me out. He told everyone grief had driven me insane. He locked me in the garage apartment and, with cold detachment, married his sweetheart. And when that woman complained my son was too loud, my husband slipped sleeping pills into our boy's juice—right as my crying child was coming to look for me. My son never woke up. The day they buried him hastily, I ended my life in the garage, utterly broken. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day they delivered my brother-in-law's body to our home.

I'd been with Daniel Bonanno for five years. On our anniversary, I was the one who processed his marriage license application— but the bride wasn't me. It was Emma Miller. He told me it was just a merger. A fake arrangement between families. Once he became the Don, he'd marry me for real. I'd heard that line so many times I'd lost count. But I watched him grow closer to that woman. Day by day. Even when I was kidnapped, he was in bed with her. And finally, it hit me. Five years of loving him, and it was all just a joke. So I faked my death. I made sure everyone thought I jumped off that cliff. But after that, Daniel started haunting the base of that cliff. Two years, pacing back and forth, murmuring under his breath: "I was wrong. Please. Just come back."

Three months after Pete took his foster sister as his mistress, I terminated my marriage, chose to die on paper, and vanished from his life entirely. One quiet morning, I handed my child over to the nannies arranged by the family and walked out of the Rizzuto estate alone. Pete didn’t chase after me that day. He believed I would come back. Once I had calmed down, I would lower my head. The following spring, I was diagnosed with cancer. Standing in the hospital corridor, I suddenly remembered years ago— Pete had taken my hand and said, “You’ll be the finest Donna this Rizzuto family has ever had.” What pulled me back was not Pete. It was a letter from Sicily. Thin paper. Cold, rigid handwriting—the kind favored by old families who had ruled too long to bother with sentiment. “The heir has begun showing signs of emotional instability.” “Recent violent behavior has caused internal concern.” “There is disagreement within the family regarding the current Don’s judgment.” In the mafia world, there is only one reason the elders would bypass a man and reach out to a wife officially presumed dead— When the family itself begins to lose balance. So I returned. To the place I had once fled with everything I had. This time, there were no illusions. I no longer placed any hope in emotion. I was there only to fulfill the obligations of the family. I knew exactly how much time I had left. And I knew exactly what needed to be done. I became a proper Donna.

Benedict Cole’s undercover mission had failed. Only his twin brother, David Cole, returned. I was devastated, nearly driven to madness over losing my husband. Holding Benedict’s police badge, I tried to slit my wrists nine times, but I was always rescued just in time. As my consciousness faded on my tenth attempt, I overheard a conversation between my mother-in-law, Helen, and David. “El has tried to commit suicide for you ten times now. How long are you going to keep this act up? This woman is head over heels for you. Just stop lying to her already!” David’s expression hardened as he flatly refused. “David took a bullet for me. It is only right that I take care of his wife.” “El’s from the countryside. She’s tough. Once Melissa becomes pregnant and has a child to live for, only then can I reveal that I am actually Benedict.” The bathtub was dyed red with my blood, but the pain in my heart was far greater than the sting of my wound. It turned out that it had all been a lie, a deception meant only for me. My grief-stricken suicide attempts for love were nothing short of a clown’s tragicomedy.

I was bleeding out in a corner after a hit from a rival family. My husband, Dante—the Torrino family’s underboss—was in his car, holding his best friend's little sister. He gave me one cold look and said, "Leave her. She's a nobody." Later, after someone else saved me, I walked home, soaked in my own blood. I found Dante cradling Seraphina, fussing over her. All she had was a scraped knee. The blood covering my clothes? He didn't even see it. I just watched. Said nothing. Then I pulled out my phone and called my mother. "Mom, I need to come home."

The day Lucas Sterling went bankrupt and fled, he abandoned me at the airport. With red-rimmed eyes, he shielded his adopted sister, Ivy Sterling, as he escorted her onto the plane. “Ivy can’t stay here. Gavin Blackwood will drive her to her death. But you’re different. Everyone knows you look just like his late wife. “He could never bring himself to hurt you.” The cabin door slammed shut in front of me. As the engine roared, I cried and asked the system what I was supposed to do now. But the cold mechanical voice suddenly sounded excited: “Host! Go straight to Gavin Blackwood and tell him that you’re the woman who deceived him into marriage three years ago, faked her death, and vanished… “His late wife.”

After Penelope Hart, a rich socialite, loses her memories, she starts pursuing me relentlessly. Having played the role of her boyfriend for the next three years, I realize that I've developed actual feelings for her. When Penelope gets pregnant, I plan on proposing to her. That's when I hear Jonathan Parker, the high school senior who used to bully me, tell her, "Penelope, thank you for pretending to be amnesiac and pull a prank on Edward for 99 times just to get revenge for me. "Once you've pulled the 100th prank on him, I'll date you." Only then do I find out that Jonathan is the man Penelope has been yearning for but can't date the whole time. As for me, I'm just the clown whom she uses just to please Jonathan. Later on, I die in a plane crash. After searching for my remains like a lunatic in the wreckage, Penelope finally locates a ring. A message is carved on the band. "For the 100th prank, I bet you love me." Rumors have it that Penelope has cried her heart out while on her knees to the point that her body goes into shock, resulting in her getting sent to the hospital. When she wakes up, she decides to get revenge on everyone who's involved in the pranks that were used on me. I, on the other hand, burn my medical records with a smile on my face on a winter night in Ferentia. Since Penelope decides to toy with my feelings with her fake amnesia, I decide to fake my death so that I can teach her a proper lesson in life.

After my fiancé ran away with my sister, I became the biggest scandal in New York. Then Roman Vescari—the feared Don of the Vescari crime family—confessed that he had loved me for years. I married him. For five years, Roman treated me like the center of his world. Everyone believed I was the cherished wife of New York's most powerful mafia don. Then I overheard him speaking to his consigliere. "Celeste is Adrian's wife now. Are you really going to spend the rest of your life pretending to love Evelyn?" Roman fell silent. "I married Evelyn. I'll love her and give her everything a Vescari wife deserves. Celeste is in the past." But when Celeste and I fell into a freezing lake, Roman swam past me to save her, leaving me to sink only yards away. That was when I finally understood. He could protect me for the rest of his life, but his first instinct would never be to choose me. After I was rescued, I arranged my death at sea and ended our five-year marriage. When Roman learned of my "death," the ruthless mafia don shoved Celeste away, coughed up blood, and seemed to age ten years overnight.

In my past life, my mate Marcus ran off to the forest to make love with my best friend Scarlett, who was eight-month pregnant. That’s when they'd be surrounded by a pack of rogue wolves. Scarlett, heavy with child, started bleeding heavily. Both of them desperately called for the Border Guard. As the Chief Warrior, I had risked everything to fight those rogue wolves. But Scarlett still died along with her unborn pup. My mate Marcus led others to accuse me of using my position for personal revenge. He personally severed both my hands with a silver blade. "A warrior without morals like you deserves to burn in hell!" he snarled. But I remembered clearly—when I drove off the rogues and got the pack healer to Scarlett, she barely had a scratch on her. Finally, Scarlett's parents arrived. I begged them to examine her body and investigate the truth. Instead, they reported to Alpha that I had neglected my duties. They claimed I was high on wolfsbane while guarding the border. Alpha exiled me for fifteen years. With both hands severed, I had no way to fight or shift properly. I survived by begging scraps from neighboring territories. Fifteen years later, I returned to the pack. I saw my mate Marcus walked through the airport's first-class terminal with Scarlett and their son. They were using my inheritance to fund their luxury vacation to the Maldives. They spotted me. Without hesitation, they pushed me into a silver pit to destroy all evidence. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day Scarlett faked her death. This time, I took one look at the scene and declared them beyond saving. I told my assistant to send them to bury them directly.

On the day my twin sister, Alexia Cavanaugh, and I turn 22, I collapse and find out that I have late-stage cancer. Ignoring the doctor's advice to be admitted, I walk out of the hospital. All I want is to spend one final birthday with my family without a single worry. But when I arrive at the party, a server stops me at the door and tells me the venue has been reserved exclusively for Alexia. Outsiders aren't allowed in. Through the glass, I watch as my brother holds a cake and my father places a birthday hat on Alexia's head. Even my boyfriend is there, smiling as Alexia makes a wish. I stand there for half an hour, gripping my phone, before my boyfriend finally answers my call. "I was just at the hospital. I—" He cuts me off. "Ophelia, you've always been healthy. It's Lexi's birthday today. We should talk later." Isn't today my birthday too? My mother died giving birth to me. The doctor later explained that I deprived Alexia of nutrients before birth, which left her frail from the start. And just like that, everyone decided I should always step aside for my twin, who was born five minutes before me. I ball up the report with my cancer diagnosis and toss it in the trash. I'm done letting their favoritism hurt me. I've never received their love anyway, so I choose to leave for good.

Matteo Cassimo and I are childhood sweethearts. But he gets assassinated on the day before our wedding. I cry my heart out in front of his grave to the point I faint from exhaustion. When I wake up again, I see a few live comments crossing my vision. "Poor Annie… She's still kept in the dark about the truth." "Seriously, Annie believes everything Matteo tells her. Serves her right for getting duped by Matteo's fake death." "Can someone please tell Annie that Matteo fakes his death to get rid of her, because his mistress finds out he's about to get married and decides to secretly leave him? I bet those two are being lovey-dovey with each other right now!" "Forget about it. Annie has nothing but blind trust in Matteo, after all. Maybe when he finally comes back from the 'dead,' she'll marry him happily again." One month later, the news headlines all over the papers are filled with the explosive news of the impending marriage between me and the heir of the Valente family, William Valente. That's when Matteo's subordinate confronts me. "Our Don has just passed away recently, and yet you're already planning to marry someone else?" I merely chuckle icily in return. "So what if I am? I can't just be a widow at such a young age now, can I?"

I was kidnapped the day my vampire boyfriend, Hades, was going to introduce me to his parents. I barely managed to escape and reached his citadel only to watch him on his knees, kissing Hestia’s hands as he announced. “I accept your arrangement, Dad and Mom. Your decision was better than mine. Hestia is truly a good match for me. As for Ares, I’ll think of a way to get rid of her quickly.” “Hades…” My voice choked, drawing their attention to me. “How can you do that to me? You said you loved me.” Hades turned to look at me, his eyes cold and distant. He dragged me out of his citadel. “You dare bring up our past, Ares? Where were you last night?” “I-I was kidnapped!” I yelled. “Really, Ares?” Hestia followed behind, “You say you were kidnapped, yet you stand tall. Not even a scratch on your body.” “I-I don't know why-” I stopped in the middle to look at Hades ’ eyes that were laced with hatred and disgust I had never seen before. “Y-You are doubting me, Hades?” “My men said you were seen with a mysterious man in a five-star hotel’s entrance. I’m not a fool to not understand what you did last night, Ares.” He spat. “Hades… I-I was really kidnapped!” I sobbed. “No need for explanation. It was already hard for me to convince my parents to accept a human mate, and now, after your bad reputation, it's impossible.” “Ten days later, I’ll take vows with Hestia. You should thank her for allowing me to keep you as my mistress. She is really a kind woman.” “Thank her?” I laughed sarcastically, “No thanks, Miss Hestia. No need to share your man with me. Please keep him to yourself.”

After catching my supposedly frigid wife, Emmy Winslow, aroused by our household robot butler, I swallowed my disgust and sent the machine to a destruction facility. I never expected that decision to cost her life. On the way to chase after the robot, Emmy was involved in a horrific car accident and died at the scene. From that day on, I became notorious in our social circle as the jealous husband who drove his wife to her death. Five years passed. Night after night, I tortured myself by wondering if she would still be alive had I not been so petty over a machine. Until today, while discussing business at a private club, I passed a half-open VIP suite and heard one of Emmy's closest friends teasing her. "Emmy, how much longer are you planning to keep up this fake-death act?" A familiar voice answered, one I could never mistake, that was tinged with indulgence and amusement. "As soon as Corbin Ellery's heart condition is cured. Back then, if Grayson hadn't insisted on sending the butler to the destruction plant, Corbin wouldn't have needed to pretend his system malfunctioned. And I wouldn't have had to fake my death to help him disappear completely." Another friend clicked her tongue. "Still, nobody expected you to go this far. Having Corbin wear a custom synthetic skin suit and pose as a robot butler right under your husband's nose all those years? That's insane." Fake death? Corbin? The blood drained from my face. The woman I had mourned for five years was alive. And the robot that had stirred her desire had never been a robot at all. It was my closest friend. A passing server accidentally slammed into me, sending a tray crashing to the floor. The conversation inside stopped instantly. Emmy turned toward the doorway, and our eyes met.

"Mr. Bennett, your fake death service is confirmed for next week. How would you like to go?" "If possible, by her hands," Joshua Bennett replied. "…That might be a bit cruel emotionally. Are you sure you want to 'die' by your wife's hands?" "I'm sure."

Three months after my husband, Josiah Erikson, disappears in a skiing accident, I spot him in a bar. He's laughing freely with an arm slung casually around his "best friend", Monica Jones' shoulders. "Good thing you came up with the idea. I'd almost forgotten what freedom feels like." One after another, his buddies clink glasses with him and ask about when he plans to reappear. He looks down and thinks about it before saying, "In a week. I'll show up once she's gone completely crazy searching for me." Standing in the shadows, I watch him savor his freedom, then call my friend who works at the state vital records office.

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.

When I hear my boyfriend, Terence Bowen, is trapped in a house fire, I immediately rush back to save him. However, after dragging him out with all my strength, I realize it's just a dummy. Laughter erupts from the house next door. "Ariana Brock is such a fool! She fell for it again!" Through a half-open window, I spot Terence lounging on the couch, casually scrolling through his phone. He looks completely fine. "That's the 47th prank we've pulled on her. Three more to go and we're done." "Serves her right. She shouldn't have stolen Bethany Howard's scholarship. Bethany is the one Terence actually cares about. That's why he decided to fake a relationship with Ariana to get revenge 50 times over. Too bad the game will end soon." I bend over, gasping for air. All this time, the relationship I've worked so hard to protect is nothing but a game to them.

My pack was slaughtered. But my fated mate Ethan turned his back on me, choosing another she-wolf, Lyra. In my darkest hour, his brother, Alpha Caden, claimed me. He promised me safety. Vengeance. A home. For three years, I was his Luna. I thought I was safe. Then I learned the truth. "You've hidden the evidence for three years, Alpha. You know Lyra was behind the Dawn Moon slaughter. What happens when your Luna finds out?" Caden’s reply shattered my world. "I have to protect Lyra. Even though she chose my brother, I need her to be happy. As for Selena, making her my Luna is compensation enough." My legs went weak. I almost collapsed, sobbing. The monster who killed my family was right beside me all along. And the mate I loved so deeply? Our bond was a lie, built only to shield her. So I performed the Farewell Ritual, a ceremony to erase myself from the world. Only when he was about to lose me forever did Caden finally see the truth. Shattered by regret, he hunted down the real killer, begging for a forgiveness he would never earn.

In the third year of my marriage, Don Scott Cullen's lover, Elena, threw me over the second-floor railing. The fall killed my third unborn child and destroyed my last hope of ever carrying a child to term. She was never punished for any of it. Even though I had just miscarried, I was forced to kneel and scrub her swimming pool. Elena accused me of cutting her finger with broken glass and had me plunged into a tub of ice water as punishment. When my grandmother lay dying, I begged them in the rain, only for the guards to drag me away and dump me across the road. Later, I was kidnapped and called Scott. At a banquet, he had his arm around another woman and scoffed that I was lying to him again. The cruise ship exploded. Seawater flooded my nose and lungs. At last, I was going to die. As I closed my eyes, I seemed to slip into the past. He wrapped his arms around my waist from behind and promised to take me and our baby to an island to bask in the sun. What if he knew this call was the last time I would ever beg him for anything?

My husband was on a business trip when his plane crashed, leaving a final message. He said he didn’t want to hold me back and wanted me to terminate the pregnancy and start over. I couldn’t stop crying. That’s when I heard my son’s voice from inside me. “Mom, stop crying. Dad isn’t dead at all. “He’s just scum. Behind your back, he’s running off with his true love. They’ve eloped abroad for their honeymoon. “I know where his little stash is. While he’s not back yet, let’s grab the money and disappear. We’re set for life!”