قصص وروايات قصيرة تضم Bias وتدور في Fake Death

I'm dying at seven months pregnant, and the one behind it is my husband. Hearing that a premature baby's blood can save my sister, he conspires with a shady clinic to take the baby out through surgery. After draining the baby's blood, he walks away—leaving my fragile preemie to die. Later, my parents say, "You owe Yvie. It's time to repay her." My husband says, "We can always have another child. A baby's life can't possibly be more important than Yvie's, can it? The overwhelming rage and grief cause me to bleed to death. My soul floats above them as I watch them prepare my sister's surgery. They don't even bother to change me into clean clothes. No one mourns me. No one loses their mind over my death. Without a care, they wheel me into the morgue and celebrate Yvonne's recovery. When I open my eyes again, I've gone back three months earlier—to the day my whole family forced me to divorce.

Three years ago, my childhood sweetheart, Eleanor Carter, left me at the altar to marry Dillan Perez—the adopted son of my family. The church erupted in whispers. I became the laughingstock in a single breath. Then Victoria Brown—the aloof, formidable CEO of the Brown Group—stepped forward. "I'll marry you, Lambert," she said, her voice cutting through the wreckage of my pride. I said yes. For three years, she was the perfect wife. Gentle. Attentive. She was my salvation. But there was one thing that always hung between us like a quiet ache—we never had a child. The doctors found nothing wrong with either of us. Victoria would just smile softly and say, "It will happen when the time is right." Today, I came home early. The door to our bedroom was slightly open. I heard her voice. She was on the phone with her best friend. I didn't mean to listen. But then I heard my name. "Lambert wants a child with me," she said. "But he doesn't know I've been on birth control the whole time. That's why we never got pregnant." My blood turned cold. "As long as he has no heir," she continued, "Dillan's place in the Clark family stays secure." I stood there, frozen. My hands went cold. My heart shattered into pieces. I was just a tool to protect the man she truly cared for. I didn’t confront her. Instead, I calmly planned my death—a quiet disappearance from her world.

The day my adopted sister Xina was diagnosed with a rare blood disease, I was captured by rival pack hunters and taken across pack territories. In a hidden den beneath the mountains, I was chained like an omega during the day and subjected to endless humiliation. At night, they locked me in a moonless chamber and extracted my blood and bone marrow while I was conscious. By the time my pack found me, my body was broken beyond recognition, covered in bite marks, and infected with numerous diseases that even our supernatural healing couldn't combat. My mother, Alpha Serena, looked at me barely clinging to life, and howled so painfully she collapsed several times. My brother Ivan even traveled beyond our ancestral lands to find healers who could treat me. But in my half-conscious state, I accidentally overheard their conversation: "Mother, we captured Lisa just to save Xina, and let her be violated by so many rogues. Now we're taking one of her kidneys too—isn't that going to kill her?" Mother was silent for a long time, then choked up and said: "For Xina, I had no choice." "Besides, Lisa challenged Xina's rank all these years, made her severely depressed. This is just me atoning to Xina on her behalf." "It doesn't matter if she's been tainted. From now on, we'll keep her in the packhouse and take care of her. That'll count as compensation." As the silver blade sliced into my body, tears streamed uncontrollably from my eyes. A den with four wolves... was simply too crowded.

I'd been married to Lucas, the Don of the Mitchell family—the biggest crime syndicate in the country—for six years when I found out he'd given my own daughter to his savior to raise. I was about to confront him when he beat me to it, asking for a divorce. His savior didn't have much time left. Her dying wish was to become his Donna. "She ended up like this because she saved me. Her last wish is just to be my Donna. You understand, don't you?" "Don't worry. You'll always be my only Donna. Once this is over, we'll remarry right away." I'd lost count of how many times he'd sacrificed me for her. So I nodded calmly and signed the divorce papers. Seven years of love. Nine hundred and ninety-nine disappointments. I was done standing by his side while he repaid his debts. I sent one message: "Help me plan a fake death. A plane crash." The day he slid the Donna's ring onto his savior's finger, I boarded that plane. If he wanted to marry another woman, then— I didn't want him anymore.

Married to Enzo for three years, his heart had always belonged to his childhood sweetheart, Bianca. The cut of the family business that was rightfully mine became her jewelry, and the keepsakes my brother Luca left behind were casually gifted to her by Enzo. I gave him everything, yet I remained invisible. I chose to step aside, turn my back, and vanish from his world completely. After that, the cold-hearted man lost control. He tore Little Italy apart looking for me, begging me to return. But this time, I’m never going back.

My childhood sweetheart, Claire Lawson, and my older sister, Vanessa Bennett, both fall for Ethan Reed, the new scholarship student. Claire breaks off our engagement. "Marry a spoiled rich kid like you? No thanks." Meanwhile, Vanessa breaks the promise she made to Mom on her deathbed. "Ethan's had such a hard life. Is it really too much to ask that I give him half the love I've always given you?" On my birthday, Claire chooses to spend it with Ethan instead of me. And on the anniversary of Mom's death, Vanessa would rather spend the day with Ethan and his mother, Karen Myers, than visit Mom's grave. That's when it finally hits me. Maybe I'm just not meant to have people I can call family. And if I have to beg someone to love me, what's the point? So, when Claire and Vanessa travel to Belmont with Ethan to watch him receive an international design award, I set fire to the house that holds all our memories, fake my own death, and leave Jinton behind for good. But the moment news of my death reaches Belmont, the two women who've long since grown tired of me rush back to Jinton overnight. They collapse to their knees outside the charred remains of the house, sobbing uncontrollably as though their entire world has fallen apart.

On the day of our wedding, my fiance Thomas Warsh was killed in a car accident on the way there. His adopted sister rushed toward me, clutching his ashes, accusing me of being a jinx who brought him misfortune. I was drowning in grief when a line of floating comments suddenly appeared before my eyes. [You must remain a widow for three years for your deceased husband. After three years, he will be reincarnated and return to love you again!] [Don’t ever remarry. Otherwise, the male lead will never rest in peace, and you will suffer for the rest of your life!] That was when I learned that my fiancé and I were the hero and heroine of a novel. Only by following the spoilers in the comments and completing the storyline could I reunite with him. I did not remarry. Guided by the comments, I remained a widow for three years, and then another three. However, it was not until I suddenly died from a severe illness that I discovered the truth–the comments had all been written by Thomas. He had faked his death, changed his appearance, married his adopted sister, and fed me endless empty promises so I would continue to slave away for the Warsh family. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day before the wedding.

My fated mate, Alpha Baton, had once shackled his bloodlust for me. He’d built a corporate empire from the ashes of his bloody conquests, all to give me a civilized home. Even when my father was framed for murdering the brother of his first love, Seraphina, he held me gently. "Don't worry, Tricia. I'll face this with you." But on the day of the trial, my father was condemned as a murderer and exiled to the North. And Baton? He was celebrating, with his arm wrapped around Seraphina. I hunted down the witness, demanding answers, only to find him trembling as he stared at Baton, who stood right behind me. It was Baton. He had threatened the witness into lying. He was willing to destroy my father, just to make Seraphina happy. "Seraphina's brother is dead. Someone has to pay the price." The mate bond between us didn't just snap—it shattered. Agony ripped through my soul. If I meant nothing to him, our marking ceremony was a promise. And now, it was one I had to break.

My wife, Wendy, faked her death and took her younger sister’s identity, and I pretended not to know. I removed her from the position of general manager at the company and went to the police station to cancel her identity registration. In my past life, Wendy’s younger sister, Stacy, died in a car accident. Wendy chose to live as her, only because she could not bear to let Eric, her sister’s husband, become a widower. I confronted Wendy and demanded to know why she was impersonating her sister, but she refused to admit anything. “I understand that losing Wendy hurts, but you cannot treat me as if I’m her just because she is gone.” After that, Wendy spread rumors everywhere, saying I had lost my mind. She claimed that my wife had just died and I was already harboring improper thoughts toward her younger sister. In a short time, I suffered an unprecedented wave of online harassment. In the end, an overzealous netizen stabbed me to death in an alley. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day Wendy was preparing to take her sister’s identity.

My son and daughter-in-law suddenly returned home after living abroad for more than a decade. They spoke with my granddaughter in Datrenan the entire time during dinner. My granddaughter said, "Dad, Grandma's ugly and dumb. She's embarrassing!" My son just laughed. "What can we do? Country people are like that." I didn't understand what they were talking about, so I simply smiled and placed a chicken wing into my granddaughter's bowl, trying to please her. However, she threw it in my face instead. "Gross! It's all your fault that Grandpa and Kasey can't be here!" I was stunned. My husband died decades ago, and… who was Kasey?

On the night the family manor was set on fire, my husband Don Luciano Cacciola whisked Loretta Peri away. "Be a good girl and wait for me here, Tati. I'll send my men over to pick you up soon." As soon as he left, the explosions buried around the villa were set off instantly. That's when I sent Luciano one last text. "Luciano, we're even now." Rumors had it that Luciano had gone mad after that incident. As he gripped the burned ring, he purged the entire mafia family on his own. After that, he kneeled before my grave for three long days. When Luciano found out that there was a possibility of my surviving the explosion, he decided to give away half of his family fortune just so he could track me down. Three years later, Luciano stares at the woman, who's toying with a pistol, with red-rimmed eyes at the family's negotiation table. "Tati… Is that you?" I pull the trigger in response, causing a bullet to ricochet past Luciano's ear. "You got the wrong person, Mr. Cacciola. I'm here to take your life." As I watch Luciano kneel by my feet and press a kiss onto the tip of my high heel, I can't help but laugh. This time, it's my turn to choose.

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.

After my sister, Elina Spencer, died, I became her replacement. I copied everything she did and bent over backward to please them, all because I wanted to matter to them just a little more. But there was only ever room for Elina in their hearts. They never stopped reminding me that I was nothing more than her substitute, that I should never dream of taking her place. Then one day, Elina—the one everyone thought was dead—came back. At last, I was free. I left this world in peace. Only then did they regret everything. They cried as they chased after me, pleading for me to return, begging for my forgiveness. But I was already dead.

I was just a student who couldn't afford tuition. For five years, I was also the secret lover of Mafia Don Dante Costello. Publicly, I was his personal art restorer. In private, he spent his nights making me his, holding me close and kissing me breathless. Then his family arranged his engagement. To Isabella Rossi. A princess from a rival family. At their engagement party, Isabella stabbed the back of my hand with a shard of broken glass. He made me apologize. To her. For making a scene. Fighting back tears, I bowed my head to Isabella. When Isabella lost a bet and had to play Russian Roulette—one bullet, six chambers—he made me take her place. My hand shook as I raised the gun to my head. "You saved my life once," I told him. "Now you can have it back." The moment I vanished from his world, the ruthless Mafia Don who had everything under control...completely lost his mind.

Eight months pregnant, I went into labor at the exact same time as my husband Jason's sister-in-law after a fall. But Jason thought I was trying to fight for the family inheritance. "Janet, I told you the family has already accepted Rachel's child as the future heir of the Martinez family. I never expected you'd go this far—hurting yourself—just for the so-called birthright. I'm so disappointed in you." According to family rules, the first child born into the Martinez family is the future heir, inheriting everything. They thought that because I married in as an "ordinary" woman, I would covet that inheritance. But that crown? It wasn't worthy of my child. What I never expected was that, the moment Jason walked out, his sister Ashley would deliberately inject me with a drug to stall my labor. "Janet, Rachel's child is the one who should inherit this family. Your baby? He doesn't qualify." "Don't worry. Once Rachel's baby is safely delivered, I'll make sure you're well taken care of." With that, she turned and left me alone in that empty, godforsaken room. The pain was unbearable. I fought with everything I had to protect my baby. I screamed for help, but no one answered. In the end, I pressed the signal button my father had given me. Dad—please, save me and my baby.

The day I find out I'm pregnant, I also discover my husband is cheating on me. To think that Brock Emerson, a celebrated OB-GYN, is sleeping with his own protegee, Wendy Blair! I strip Wendy's clothes off in front of the entire hospital, humiliating her for everyone to see. After that, the staff group chat turns into a daily betting pool on whether I'll show up to cause another scene. When Brock pulls me off the balcony railing yet again, he drops to his knees. "I've already had Wendy transferred. What happened that day was just an accident. You're all I care about." I give Brock two choices—either he sends Wendy to prison, or he signs the divorce papers. He personally submits evidence of Wendy's medical malpractice and chooses to stay. From then on, every year on the anniversary, I visit Wendy in prison to ease my grief over losing my child. On one of those visits, as I sign the log on my way out, I overhear two janitors talking. "That poor woman still hasn't figured out it's not really Wendy in there. It's just some actress they hired as a look-alike." "Dr. Emerson was scared she'd lose it again and hurt Dr. Blair, so he paid to build a whole fake prison wing just to keep her fooled. He and Dr. Blair are the real thing." "I heard their baby turned one today, and the whole family's celebrating together. They couldn't be happier." My blood runs cold. I can't believe what I'm hearing. The whole time I think we're starting fresh, Brock already has another family.

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.

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.

Before Cameron Finch goes on a business trip, he gives me a doll that looks exactly like him. "Babe, whenever you miss me, you can press this button on the doll. Once you've unlocked the easter egg, I'll come back and spend time with you." Later on, the plane Cameron had boarded crashes. I can only hug the doll he's given me, unable to sleep a wink at night. All I can do is press the button repeatedly until my fingertip goes numb and stiff. When I press it for the thousandth time, the doll lags momentarily. Then the recorded voice takes on an entirely different tone. "This marks the thousandth time you've hit this button! Congratulations on unlocking the easter egg! "Gwen, Mari and I have already registered our marriage. Our wedding will take place at the end of this year. I know this is unfair to you, but there's no such thing as 'first-come, first-served' in romance. I hope that you can give us your blessings. "Mari wants me to tell you that you will always be the bridesmaid of her wedding. I really hope you can attend our wedding since our families are friends and all. I will always be an older brother figure to you." My finger freezes at the message. As soon as the last word falls, I feel my phone buzzing. Marissa Becker has texted me. "Gwen, I'm getting married soon! I've reserved a slot for you as my bridesmaid! You must attend the wedding, okay?"