เรื่องสั้นและนิยายในฉาก Bias Feel-Good Story

For the sake of her secretary, who was supposedly battling cancer, my wife, Sofia Griffin, made a shocking proposal. She would pay ten million for taking his virginity as an attempt to help him raise the funds needed. I had barely opened my mouth to object when she cut me down with a sharp rebuke. She said, "Chris has always been a proud man. Just giving him the money would seem like a handout and hurt his pride. "Can't you try to be compassionate? Do you really have to be jealous over something this small?" I said nothing. I simply smiled and nodded. What she didn't know was that, as an infectious disease specialist, I had already recognized the signs. It wasn't cancer... It was late-stage AIDS.

The Volkovs. The most brutal family in Russia. Their Don was holding our arms deal hostage. He wanted the De Luca princess. Isla. My adopted sister. I was their biological daughter. The blood heir they found in the slums twenty years too late. But Isla was the one they actually loved. The news broke. My mother walked into my room for the first time in forever. “Aurora, my best girl. You know how fragile Isla is. If she marries him… that man will break her. He’ll kill her.” My fiancé, Julian Caldwell, heir to the Caldwell family, made me a candlelit dinner. He held me, kissing me softly. “You’re so much stronger than her, Aurora. Please. Do this for her. I’ll give you a private wedding. Just us. Even if I can’t marry you for real, you’ll always be my wife.” Even my father—a man who never smiled at me, the Don of the De Luca family—actually slid a blank check across the desk. “Take her place instead of Isla. Name your price. Anything you want.” They were so sure I’d say yes. Because I’d always been that pathetic girl. Desperate for their approval. Willing to do anything. But not this time. I was done. I looked at the blank check and laughed. “A blank check? Not even close. I want one hundred million dollars. And a blood contract that cuts all ties. Forever.” They had no idea. I wanted more than that. In seven days, I was going to give them a gift. I wanted their lives.

I'm the pilot of an international flight. During the return flight, the aircraft gets caught up in a terrible storm. The plane's body is struck and penetrated by hail, and the right engine bursts into flames. 327 passengers are left stranded tens of thousands of feet in the air. I contact ground control and request permission to make an emergency landing, only to hear the chief controller of the air traffic control tower—also my ex-wife, Lara Kingsley—say, "Easthawk 791, request denied." I look at the plane's rapidly decreasing fuel volume and snap at Lara, "You're out of your mind! This plane won't last more than 20 minutes in the air!" A contemptuous snort escapes her. "Oh, scared now, are we? I bet you didn't think this day would come when you left me at the altar for another woman five years ago! I want you to know what it feels like to be abandoned!" Leashing my anger, I grit my teeth and ask other air traffic controllers for permission to divert the plane, only to learn Lara has denied me permission to use any nearby diversion routes. It isn't until the engine is about to flame out that she slowly names her price. "Turn on the plane's PA, tell everyone you betrayed and cheated on me years ago, then slap yourself a hundred times. I'll clear a runway for you after that."

My brother had bonded with an Academic Prodigy System, and its mission was simple: get into Northbridge for graduate school. If he failed, the system would erase his intelligence and leave him permanently disabled. To save him, my parents told me, "Aaron, you're smart. You still have options, but your brother doesn't." So they secretly switched my guaranteed admission file and gave my place to him. My fiancee, Vivian Harkins, a professor at the university, personally helped him forge the records. She touched my face with the same tenderness she always used. "Aaron, everything has an optimal solution. Sacrificing one year of your time to protect this family is worth it." My brother held the admission letter with his own name on it and became the star of the celebration banquet. I stood in the corner and watched the system panel in front of me as the [Hope Value] hit zero. The cold voice in my head asked, [Host, you have reached the threshold for extreme injustice. Confirm activation of the death program?] I watched Vivian, with her own hands, fasten the pair of cuff links she had once promised me onto my brother's sleeve. I smiled, swallowed the taste of blood rising in my throat, and said, "Confirm." "Use my life to trade for the rest of theirs... beyond redemption."

For our company's annual party, my manager handed me a hundred-dollar bill. His assignment? Go out and buy the latest, top-of-the-line iPhone as the grand raffle prize. I stared at the cash, my brow furrowed. “An iPhone 17 costs nearly a thousand dollars. A hundred is hardly enough.” A smug smile tugged at his lips. “That’s your problem to figure out. When your superior hands down an order, you find a way to make it happen, not sit there questioning me.” So he was trying to make me pay out of my own pocket! When I flatly refused, he didn't hesitate to use my full-time promotion to threaten me. Looking at his arrogant face, I pretended to back down. “Fine. Leave it to me.” The second I turned around, I stuffed a brick into an empty phone box, sealed it up, and handed it right over.

My fated mate, Alpha Ethan, chose another woman over me. Not once. Not twice. But ninety-nine times. He always claimed it was for the pack. He always swore he loved me. He always promised that next time, I would be his priority. Then she showed up at his Alpha ceremony. The outsider, Oliva. In my Luna gown. My Beta saw red and told Oliva to get her ass out of our pack. Ethan abandoned me on the stage—on the night we were to be crowned together—and stormed down to shield Oliva in his arms. For the hundredth time, he ordered me to apologize for the sake of an alliance. As if she was the victim. And just like that... I was done. I drew my silver dagger and sliced it across my palm. "I, Ivana, before the Moon Goddess and the Elders, reject my mate bond with Alpha Ethan." He thought I was throwing a tantrum. He was wrong. I didn't just shatter our bond. I erased him. And that’s when he lost his mind, tossing Oliva aside and begging me to come back.

As the most powerful witch in the pack, I gritted my teeth and swallowed the poison before the new Luna's ascension, destroying my own gift of foresight. In my last life, I had divined that the new Luna was a spy sent by the vampires, and that she would bring about the pack's destruction. When I begged Alpha Hall to banish her, someone reported me for coveting the Luna position, accusing me of selfish motives. Alpha Hall led a search of my quarters, and somehow, a letter conspiring with vampires was found under my bed. The moment Luna saw it, she flung herself into Hall's arms and sobbed with wounded innocence: "Bella, I know you've been in love with our Alpha, but you can't just frame me because you're jealous!" Hall flew into a rage, declared me a liar and a threat, and ordered me nailed to the stake and burned alive. As the flames swallowed me, I saw Luna grinning at me, twisted and cruel, her lips parting to reveal the glint of vampire fangs. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day before Luna's binding ceremony. The very moment Hall commanded me to beseech the Moon Goddess's blessing for his beloved.

My husband, Matthew Glover, fabricates a scandal to help his childhood sweetheart, reporter Melanie Reed, boost her numbers. "Mrs. Glover Sleeps Around—Multiple Affairs Lead to Repeated Miscarriages." He uses it as a gimmick to grab attention. Next thing I know, my name's in the mud and the internet's tearing me to pieces. When I bring up divorce, Matthew says I'm blowing things out of proportion. "Melanie just started at the TV station. If she doesn't deliver, her coworkers will laugh at her. You're just doing her a favor. It's not like you're actually losing anything." I don't even bother arguing with him. I simply push the divorce agreement toward him. "If you want to help her, go ahead. But we're getting divorced!"

Not even halfway through the Thanksgiving holidays, my boss, Bill Griffin, calls me back to work. He demands I cold-call customers for sales and promises generous overtime pay. Eager to give my son a better learning environment, I seize every chance to earn more money and agree without hesitation. But once the holiday ends, the management posts a notice. "An employee has generated an excessive phone bill working overtime during the Thanksgiving holidays and incurred company losses. Please reimburse the phone bill immediately." Bill, whom I had worked alongside since graduating from college, swiftly turns on me. "Some people in their 30s are about to be laid off. Having a job at all is a blessing, yet they don't know how to appreciate the opportunities the company gives them." Refusing to bow to the absurd demands and open threats, I hand in my resignation that very same day. A company that discards its employees the moment the job is done isn't worth a second of my time. They will learn the hard way who holds the leverage.

To afford train tickets home for New Year's Eve, I searched for a part-time job and stumbled into a livestream that was practically throwing money at the chat. A young woman in a silk robe rested her chin on her hand. Behind her, a villa glowed under expensive lighting that reflected off polished marble floors. "Being kept in here is suffocating," she said in a voice that mixed boredom with sweetness. "My sponsor gives me more money than I can spend. Help me out. Take some off my hands." Cash drops flashed across the screen one after another. I tapped as fast as I could, my heart hammering. A few large ones landed in my account. I was close. One more would cover both my ticket and my boyfriend's. The streamer leaned closer to the camera. "He keeps saying my tear mole looks like his girlfriend's," she said, her mouth twisting with disgust. "So unlucky. Of all things, I had to match with some broke girl." My finger slipped. I had a tear mole under my eye in the same spot. The live chat flooded with questions. [How is the sponsor's girlfriend broke?] The streamer gave a short snort and reapplied her lipstick, as if correcting a minor flaw. "He's just messing around. He tricked her into 200,000 dollars in debt. She's so stupid she works multiple jobs to help him pay it off." A chill settled in my chest. My boyfriend also owed 200,000 dollars. She continued, her tone light, "The funniest part? He slept with me for three days. When he left, I asked if he was giving her a taste of honey." She smiled cruelly. "He said all he has to do is claim he's going to work a construction site hauling rebar. The idiot will feel guilty and deliver food all night. So he won't need to please her." Another large cash drop flashed across the screen. The total reached the exact amount I needed. My phone rang. Benjamin's name lit up the display. When I answered, his voice sounded worn down, as if it had scraped against concrete. "Via, we still don't have enough for the tickets," he said. "I hauled rebar and made a little over 40 dollars. I'm heading home now."

After Julian Hart and I got back together, I was the one who brought up getting engaged. He swore I was the only woman he'd ever love. I smiled and held out my hand, and a chime sounded in my head as the system deposited another $150,000 into my account. From that day on, I became his lowest-maintenance fiancée. I stopped asking why his notes app still had his ex-wife's period tracker. I never called out the hotel receipt from the "business trip" he'd lied about. Not even when Vanessa Lane posted the diamond ring he'd bought her, with the caption "My ex-husband still knows me best." Not even when he went over in the middle of the night to fix her pipes and stayed out until morning, or when he bought two sets of Valentine's gifts. Even when he told me marrying me was his greatest dream, his eyes sliding away as he said it, I could still smile sweetly and play along. "I know. You love me most." It wasn't that I was dying to marry him. It was that the system's rewards had a clear price tag. Every lie he told me put more money in my account. I'm not stupid. If I was going to let him lie to me this long, I might as well get something out of it.

Everyone who has ever met me says no man could possibly resist me. It is because I am a natural seductress. My hourglass figure is too sensual to even hide. But my fiancé, Enzo Vitale, the Don of the Vitale family, is the exception. He dislikes my full lips and my curving hips. Not only that, he thinks my ample chest and narrow waist lack dignity and elegance. He says everything about me screams promiscuity, and that I am like a flirtatious prostitute, making me unfit to be his wife. So, he brings in the strictest etiquette mentore from Cicaro to teach me proper manners. I study diligently for an entire year, but I still fail to become the perfect wife he wants. When he once again complains that I am too seductive and improper, even going so far as to threaten to break off our engagement, I grow tired of it all. I say, "Then let's cancel our engagement."

After the SAT, the five of us childhood friends got together and played a game to test how well we knew each other. In the first round, my best friend, Millie Thyme, asked, “If one of us was stranded in the countryside in the middle of the night, who would you rescue first?” The three boys, all of whom others had teased to be my future husbands since we were kids, wrote her name without hesitation. Someone joked that they had read each other’s minds. Millie’s face turned red as she explained, “Maybe because I’m the biggest scaredy-cat. Hailey is so capable. She wouldn’t need anyone to rescue her.” They all nodded in agreement. However, they had forgotten that when I was stranded in the mountains at 16, they were the ones who braved a torrential downpour to find me, then fought over who would carry me down the mountain. Back then, they told me, “No matter what happens, we’ll always choose you first.” In the second round, it was my turn to ask a question. I looked at them and smiled as I read the card aloud, “If only four of the five of us could go to college together, who would you leave behind?” The room instantly went quiet. Millie bit her lip and was the first to flip over her answer board. Her own name was written on it. However, when the other three boards were revealed, every single one had my name on it. Marcus Hayes, the one who had always cared about me the most, said first, “It’s just a game. You won't actually take this seriously, will you?” Ryan quickly chimed in, “Millie isn’t in the best of health. She can’t handle going to some unfamiliar city by herself.” Julian gently ruffled my hair, his voice as warm as ever. “You’re applying to a college here anyway, so you'd be coming home every day anyway. It’s not like we’d actually be leaving you behind.” I stared at the four answer boards and suddenly smiled. What they did not know was that I never even applied to the local college they thought I would be attending…

Fifteen years ago, I was bullied at school for coming from a poor family. They gave me nicknames, tore my textbooks, and dragged me into the washroom to beat me up. With blood still on the corner of my lip, I went to see my class teacher, Tina Fletcher. But she did not even look up at me when she told me, "You shouldn't be blaming others for your predicament. The fault might be yours, and you should reflect on that first." When I returned to the classroom, she was standing on the lectern and telling the entire class, "Some students just don't know how to reflect on their wrongdoing. There must be a reason that you're targeted by your classmates. Why would they choose to bully you rather than someone else?" I suffered from depression after that and attempted suicide. I had to take a leave of absence from school and even missed the chance to go to college that year. But I eventually dug myself out of the dark abyss, inch by inch. I worked relentlessly and made it all the way to the country’s leading psychologist. That was until one day, Chief of Medicine handed me an appointment form. I stared at the familiar name on the paper and laughed. "I'd like to apply to recuse myself from this case. I can't take this patient."

I've been running a grilled fish restaurant in Millennium Square for six years now. Each time the queue for my restaurant gets noticeably longer, the mall management comes knocking on my door to raise the rent. At 5:00 pm today, the waiting list for my restaurant reaches the 200th table. I instruct my staff to prepare three additional cases of fish. At 6:00 pm, Walt Sutton, the mall manager, shows up at my office and slams a new lease contract onto my desk. "Congratulations, Mr. Connor. The mall's foot traffic has multiplied by three times this month," he says while pointing at the third page of the contract. "As it is, the mall is having a hard time keeping up with all the extra maintenance needs, so your rent will have to be increased by 50%." I glance at the contract. "That's not what we agreed on last time," I remark. "That was then, and this is now. You've got three days to decide whether you're signing the contract." In just six years, the rent has already doubled from 10 thousand to 20 thousand. Now, he wants to increase it by another 50%. After he leaves, I grab my phone and make a call. "Hey, Mr. Whitman, it's me. About that spot you offered to me in Avant Plaza, I'll be ready to move in after three days."

"Eve Spencer, I just got into an accident. I hit someone, and I think he's your son!" The day after getting her driver's license, my best friend, Esther Lawson, insisted on driving alone to pick up her son from kindergarten. I warned her that the road was full of heavy trucks and told her to practice a few more days. She rolled her eyes. "Don't worry. I'm a great driver!" She floored the gas pedal and sped off. Not long after, she called me. She was crying so hard she could barely breathe. She said she hit a child at the kindergarten. The boy's face was covered in blood, and he looked like my son. I froze. My son had a fever today. He didn't even go to kindergarten. So who had she hit?

Right after I won that $500M overseas order, my CEO husband's secretary kicked me out of the shareholder group. Before I could even react, my phone buzzed. It was a message from Julian. "Zoe accidentally removed you. Don't overthink it." I stared at those words but didn't reply. I knew why he sent this message—he was afraid I'd go after Zoe Carter. But this time, I said nothing and just resigned. I had overheard his talk with his assistant that day outside the office. "Transfer all of Bella's shares to Zoe's name. Have Bella take over the overseas merger next week. Make sure all the paperwork is finalized before she gets back." The assistant's voice wavered. "But if Isabella finds out, she might be upset and even leave you…" Julian let out a sigh. "So I have to keep her in the dark. She's an orphan, and I'm all she has. She feels unsafe, so she's always been jealous of Zoe. But Zoe needs those shares to establish herself in the company. Don't worry, I'll make it up to Bella. When she comes back, I'll give her the wedding she's been waiting for. I'll make us public." I pulled my hand back from the door. I turned and walked away without a sound. He was convinced I was an orphan who couldn't live without him, but that wasn't the truth. Actually, I was the cherished princess of New York's Gambino crime family. For him, I gave up my family's protection and married him as an ordinary girl, hiding my true identity. Now that he betrayed me, I saw no reason to cling to this marriage.

Every witch awakened a gift when she came of age. Mine was simple. I could siphon my husband's fortune. On Christmas Eve, my husband spent 20,000,000 on a ring and proposed to his mistress as if he were buying a headline. The trending page exploded. Everyone waited to see how quickly I would be thrown out. The pathetic wife was finally swept out the door. When I stayed quiet, Jasper Prescott's tone turned playful, almost indulgent. "She's just a kid. She wanted the whole 'moment.' Your place isn't going anywhere." Then he added, as if assigning me a chore, "She's young. She can't handle things. Pay more attention to the engagement party's details." As though he feared I might cause trouble, he slid a black card across the table with casual ease. "Babe, you know what I value most," he said. "You being sensible." I pinched the cold card between my fingers, smiled, and nodded. No one knew the rule hidden inside our marriage. After we married, every time Jasper betrayed me, I took a piece of his fortune, stripping it from him one point at a time and adding it to my own. Once Christmas was over, I would take whatever he had left.

The company is short-staffed for one of our new projects. Despite everyone's objections, I, James Connor, fight to bring in three sidelined, former colleagues onto the project. And so, the four of us become the project's core members. The project's workload is fairly light and comes with a generous bonus. So, they praise and flatter me, calling me their lucky star. Three months later, the project is about to be submitted to the higher-ups. I happen to pass by the smoking lounge and overhear them plotting, wisps of smoke escaping from their lips. "The three of us contributed the most to this project. Why should James get an equal share of the bonus just because he recommended us for the job? He barely pulled his weight." "That's right. We should bring this up with the director. Tell him that we're the ones who laid all the groundwork and that James doesn't have the technical skills to be on this team. We'll ask to have him removed from the contributors list." "Just the thought of not having to split those hundreds of thousands of dollars with him is making me feel like I'm on cloud nine. Hey, let's go celebrate tonight!" I push the door open and am promptly greeted with their shocked faces. I merely smile at them as I think to myself, "You want to cut me out? Sadly for you, I'm the director who was sent here to evaluate all of you."

At the banquet, the most wanted bachelor of Rivenport announced that my stepsister was the woman he truly wished to marry. Without hesitation, I stepped aside and married Simon Barker, who had been pursuing me for years. Our married life was filled with love and happiness. That joy lasted until I finally became pregnant, when I discovered he had been slipping contraceptives into the milk he gave me every night. I also found a custom diamond necklace he kept in his safe that was labelled "For proposal", but the engraving bore my stepsister's initials. It became clear that I had only ever been an obstacle he needed to remove for the woman he truly loved. All those years, he had pretended to love me, but he was just using me as a stepping stone for my stepsister's bright future. No matter how blind I had been before, now I was fully awake to the truth. With a consent form for abortion and a divorce agreement in hand, Simon and I became strangers forever.