Cerita Pendek & Novel Bias Feel-Good Story

When the owner of the horror game world summoned me home to reunite with my family, I was busy scolding the horrors in my dungeon. After spending years as a dungeon boss, I finally learned that I was the heiress of the Swans in the real world. The moment I stepped through the front door, carrying the gifts my horrors gave me on my back, the fake heiress shoved me hard to the ground. "Don't even think you can come back and take my place! Mom and Dad will never love you!" My birth parents treated me with indifference, made me sleep in the storage room, and used me to make their fake daughter look good. At a banquet, my fiancé splashed red wine on me before acting intimate with the fake heiress right in front of my face. It wasn't until the fake heiress was chosen to participate in 'Call of the Sea', a horror scenario, that they remembered my value. Without any hesitation, they bound me to enter the game with her, gently reassuring her, "Don't worry, Anna, we'll make sure you're safe no matter what!" "Don't be afraid, alright? Sylvia will die in your place!" None of them noticed the mocking smile on my lips. Silently, I spoke in my heart, 'Welcome to my dungeon! Now, none of you will leave alive!'

On my wedding anniversary, I go to Anthony Scroll's company in an attempt to surprise him. No one at the front desk stops me from entering. But what stops me in my tracks is the fact that a photo of me is printed on the welcome mat outside the CEO's office. There's also a sentence printed on the mat that says, "You'll be bestowed with wealth if you step on her face." My hands start trembling out of rage. As soon as I open the door to the office and try to bring up the topic in front of Anthony, Alexis Timmer, a shareholder, as well as one of Anthony's "boys", throws a stack of useless documents at my face instantly. The sharp edges of the papers leave papercuts on my cheek, sending white-hot pain flaring through my senses. Alexis has one leg crossed over the other as she chews on a piece of gum innocently. "Oh, hey Kimberly! Sorry about that. The papers came flying out of my hand for no reason. You see, the programmers are extremely stressed, so the mat is meant for them to vent their stress. "Anthony has agreed to the usage of your photo, by the way. After all, it makes things even livelier for the company. A housewife like you will never understand our niche humor." Anthony takes off his earphones before shooting me a berating glance. Then, he passes a bottle of water to Alexis. "Alex is just like one of the boys. Stop using your own rules to restrict her." As Alexis twists open the bottle cap, she tilts her chin in my direction smugly. "Also, Anthony hates it whenever you show up at the company with your stupid surprises, Kimberly. The food that you bring him always ends up getting eaten by us as a form of punishment."

My ex, Luca Romano, had a rival family on his tail, so he begged me to hide him at my family's private estate for five days. For old times' sake, I agreed and gave him a temporary passcode that would work for five days. Five days later, I finished my work out of town and returned to the estate. When I entered the passcode, the door wouldn't open. Someone had changed it. I rang the doorbell. A woman I had never seen before came out wearing my nightgown. She yawned as if she owned the place. The moment she saw me, she looked at me with disgust. "So you're the ex-girlfriend who won't leave Luca alone? "You two already broke up, and now you're showing up at his place in the middle of the night? Don't you have any shame?"

The moment Tammy, my adoptive parents’ biological daughter, was found, she began to stage the scene of a ‘real vs fake heiress’ drama. Tammy had cameras installed all over the house. Nowhere was safe, not even in the privacy of the bathroom. When one shorted out during her shower, Tammy landed herself in the hospital. Through tears, she told my parents that I was trying to get rid of her and demanded to call the cops. During a dinner out at the hotel restaurant, Tammy lost her footing and fell into the pool, all the while dragging me down. She cried and accused me of pushing her into the water. Apparently, had she not been smart enough to pull me along the ride, I would’ve gotten her killed. While our parents were away taking care of our hospital bills, Tammy snapped me an intimidating look. “I’m warning you. I’m different from the other heiresses in my position. I won’t put up with your antics. You can’t hide who you really are from Mom and Dad! “I’m going to get you kicked out of this house!” I smirked to myself. The silly girl had no idea that the wealth of the family came from me. She was no heiress once I took my riches away with me.

Eight years of marriage, and never once had I imagined I'd be at a charity gala, listening to my husband's family discuss my divorce. That night, Louis's mother was hosting a dinner party at their Florida coastal estate. I went to the study to find Louis, but stopped just outside the door when I heard his father Richard's voice: "She still doesn't know?" The lawyer, David, answered, "As long as Louis files the divorce petition by the end of the month, the family trust kicks in. By then, Joyce can move into the house by the lake." Divorce? My blood ran cold. And Joyce—that was Louis's ex-girlfriend. I turned and walked back to the banquet hall. Louis appeared moments later, sliding his arm around my waist like nothing had happened. I didn't confront him. Instead, I took the property, bank, and company documents I'd kept all these years and went to see a lawyer named Rachel. She flipped to the "Corporate Restructuring Authorization" I'd signed three years ago at Louis's request, and her face went pale. "Your husband used your signature to transfer all your marital equity into the family company." I was silent for a few seconds, then suddenly laughed. So this was what they'd been planning—not just a divorce. They wanted to leave me with nothing? I closed the file. "Then let's divorce." Rachel looked at me. "Are you sure?" "Of course." I picked up my bag. "The marriage can end." "But what he took from me... he doesn't get to keep a single piece of it."

Five years ago, at a family council meeting, the old Don forced his son Victor Caceres and me to marry under a blood pact to stop the riots in the streets. As we exchanged rings, Victor spoke softly enough that only I could hear. "I can't defy my father's orders. But since I'm marrying you, I'll give you all the protection a Donna deserves, as long as you don't cross any lines." Over the next five years, he'd shielded me with his body during an air raid by a rival family and taken a knife meant for me in a gang fight. I'd been naive enough to believe that even a blood-soaked contract marriage could turn into something real. Then the old Don died unexpectedly, and Victor took control of New York's entire underworld. That night, Victor brought his first love, Selena Morelli, back to the estate from a safe house. He handed me an agreement to end our marriage pact. "Carl Lombardi has worked for me for ten years. He runs a clean operation, controls a wealthy territory, and has no children out of wedlock." I stared at the terms written on the parchment. After a long moment, I forced a smile. "If you need to make room for your true love, I'll leave. But why do you get to decide the rest of my life like you’re dividing up the spoils?" Victor frowned, his voice hard and final. "I've already settled the terms with the Lombardi family. They're more than happy to welcome you. "You wouldn't last long on your own without me. If you marry Carl and a gang war breaks out, I'll have every right to step in and save your life." So as power changed hands in the underworld, I was just a loose end to be tied up. Without a second's hesitation, I cut my fingertip, pressed my bloody print onto the agreement, and picked up the crest.

My sister, Gizanne Miller, is the founder and CEO of Miller Corporation. I hide my identity and join the company as an intern. However, the Head of HR, Dorothy Kellan, tells me that after three months as an intern, I will not be offered a permanent position, and that all my wages from the internship will be withheld. "Why?" "You took three days off." I look at Dorothy, almost amused. "First of all, that was bereavement leave. Second, I followed the proper procedure when I applied for it. And third..." I turn to look at another intern who started on the same day as me, Ethan Holte. "He takes days off every month to take care of his girlfriend who suffers from menstrual pain. Why does he get to stay?" Dorothy looks at me with disdain. "He's related to the boss; that's why. Besides, his girlfriend's period pain is so severe it's practically life-threatening. But you? You just lost your grandmother. That's all. Why do you think that you're entitled to take time off?"

A month before my due date, I slipped while taking a shower, and my Apple Watch immediately alerted my husband, Don Dante Romano. Yet I lay on the cold bathroom floor for an hour, and he never came. He was at the Valenti family's private racetrack, racing with his first love, Victoria Valenti. My watch kept sending alerts, but he stayed with her until she finished her last lap. On the morning our daughter turned one month old, I started packing our bags. I had already gotten back in touch with the people who had worked for my father in LA. The christening party in seven days wasn't going to be a fresh start for the three of us. That was the final deadline I'd given him. When it came, I would leave with my daughter and take back the throne I had once handed him. I didn't need a husband who always put me last.

After my best friend, Penny Hallmark, found herself a wealthy man, she suddenly became a different person. I had done nothing more than glance at her husband, Martin Rembrandt, yet she slapped me hard across the face. “I treated you as my closest friend, but you dared seduce Martin right in front of me. He’s Chris’s brother! Have you no shame at all?” Her accusation brought tears to my eyes, but Penny resorted to locking me inside a reservoir. “What are you playing at anyway? Fine. Let me give you something to really cry about!” I nearly drowned, and she uploaded photos of me soaked to the skin, claiming online that I was behaving indecently. I became the target of cyberbullying, my boyfriend, Christopher Rembrandt, proposed a breakup, and in utter despair, I decided to end my life. Yet my best friend mocked me coldly. “Do you really think I don’t know your little tricks? You’re just pretending to be pitiful to gain sympathy, aren’t you? “That won’t do at all, Rose. Let me give you a hand!” She pulled out my breathing tube, and only when my life completely slipped away did she smile in satisfaction. “Good. Now I can enjoy both Chris and Martin’s affection.” When I opened my eyes again, I had transmigrated into the body of Chris’s mother, who had just passed away. Given a second chance at life, I was determined to make Penny pay. After all, the man she loved most was nothing more than a hopeless mama’s boy.

Marcus Dawson put a price on everything. If he decided something wasn't worth the money, he refused to pay for it. I had broken my right leg saving his life. Even then, he refused to buy me the custom orthopedic brace that would protect my healing leg. "You won't need a brace for that long. It's such a waste of money." "Be reasonable, Ren. I'll get you the best crutches instead. Walking more will help you recover, and they won't cost nearly as much." I was quiet for a long moment. Then I whispered, "Okay." But minutes earlier, I'd seen a new Facebook post from my best friend, Jessica Vance: a five-thousand-dollar designer handbag with one breezy word in the caption. "Surprise." The hand holding the bag was blurred, but I would have known the fresh scar on that forearm anywhere. Marcus had gotten it in a car accident only weeks ago. It was Marcus. A five-thousand-dollar brace was a waste. A five-thousand-dollar bag was a surprise. The same number was excessive when it was spent on me and romantic when it was spent on her. I'd always assumed he was just being frugal. Now I realized he'd done the math a long time ago. My leg wasn't worth five thousand dollars. And neither was I. I pulled out my phone and dialed a number I hadn't called in a long time. "Nathan, I want to come home."

I had not asked my mother for money in three months. She thought I had finally learned to be a good, obedient son and, in a rare act of mercy, sent me a message. "I already had Calvin pay the registration fee. Learn to be more sensible from now on. Stop thinking about scamming money from the family. "I know your dad is having a hard time right now, but since you chose to stay with me, you need to be on the same side as me." When she said this, she did not yet know that I had already transferred my in-state residency out. No one believed that I, Miles Hart, who appeared on the surface to be the young master of a wealthy family, had a closet filled entirely with clothes bought before my parents’ divorce. For three full years, there was not a single new piece of clothing. Every dollar I spent privately had to be submitted through an internal approval system, with a written application and justification. Even fees for school activities required screenshots of official notices and formal quotations. All expenses had to pass the review of my stepfather, Calvin Pierce. Just because my mother constantly suspected I was siding with my father and was afraid I would secretly funnel money to him. A month ago, I needed $500 for a math competition registration fee. Calvin rejected the request again and again. "There isn't enough justification. "Why do you have to participate in this competition? "Wait until the end of the month for unified approval." By the time approval finally came through, the registration window had already closed. Mom did not know that I had endured these three years for only one reason: an in-state residency, which would make college admissions easier. Now, I was officially recommended for admission to a top university. This family was no longer a place I needed to stay in.

I was a struggling student, and after I argued with Julian Grant yet again over our different attitudes toward money, he began desperately trying to win me back. He sent me flowers and meals every day and waited for me outside my dormitory. But I remained determined to break up with him. My best friend tried to persuade me: "Julian has practically begged you to take him back, and you're still going to keep putting on airs? "If you truly don't want him, I'll pursue him myself. I'll treat him right." I was about to snap back at her when I saw the comments floating across my vision: [The female lead is finally starting to feel sorry for the male lead. Their sweet romance is about to begin.] [This irrelevant female antagonist is seriously irritating. She's dirt poor and still so pretentious. Just write her out already!] [Can the male and female leads just get together already? I don't want any more scenes with this side character!]

My five years of marriage to Elliot Kline turned out to be a cruel joke. "For tomorrow's monthly report meeting, I'd like Yvette to present your branding plan," Elliot said, not looking up from his desk. I put down the files I was organizing, certain I had misheard. "What?" "Yvette just joined the company. She needs a chance to prove herself. Your plan is perfect for that." He lifted his head, his tone brooking no argument. "But that's my entry for the Veriania Creative Competition," I protested. "You win awards every year. What's the harm in letting her have it this time?" He shrugged, adding, "We need to nurture new talent." I stared at the man with whom I had shared a bed for five years. His face suddenly felt so unfamiliar to me. "Do you know how many sleepless nights I poured into that plan? And you're giving it to a new intern?" "Don't be so petty. It's just a plan. My decision is made." My fists clenched, anger surging through me.

The day after my wife, Evie Sandoval, jumps into the river and commits suicide, her family, the Sandovals, hold a funeral for her. Upon hearing the news, I put on a bespoke suit and a red glittery tie, attending the funeral in full regalia. However, the moment I step inside, her parents begin hurling insults at me. "How dare you show your face, Michael Chandler! You murderer!" "If it hadn't been for you abusing her all these years, Evie would never have jumped into that river!" I simply smile at them and calmly pull out a Bluetooth speaker from my bag before blasting some disco music. "Come on, everyone! Shake your booty to the music with me!"

On the day of the Dragon Bloodline Awakening at the Magic Academy, I became the laughingstock of the entire school. Lucia, the most popular girl in our year, awakened the rare Phantom Dragon, while my boyfriend, Miles, resonated with the noble Frost Dragon. As for me? My entire skin was covered in a thick layer of brown mud. I looked like a stray beggar. Pictures of my disastrous awakening were pinned to the top of the academy’s forum. The comment section was howling. "Covered in mud... definitely the lowest-tier Swamp Dragon!" "Oh my god, a Swamp Dragon Knight? Might as well be a normal person!" "Can she please wear a mask from now on? Just looking at her makes me want to throw up my dinner!" Lucia intentionally recorded my miserable state and put it on a loop online. Miles even started a betting pool on the forum: "Taking bets! Do you think our Swamp Loach will dare to show up at the Contract Ceremony tomorrow night?" "I bet 5,000 crystals she won't dare! She might even drop out tomorrow, hahaha!" The whole academy went crazy placing bets, the mocking comments rolling in one after another. Everyone was waiting for me to become a joke, hiding and crying in my dorm room. I stared at the soaring prize pool and couldn't help but smirk. They bet I wouldn't dare to come. I was only worried that when my dragon appeared, they’d wet their pants. After all, the bloodline I resonated with was the Primordial Divine Dragon.

Ethan Caldwell came back to our village for the Harvest Festival, bringing his fiancée from the city. Everyone in the village said he was born lucky. He'd been kidnapped as a child and later found by wealthy relatives, and now he was a man of standing. When he saw me under the old locust tree, he paused for just a second. "Nora? You're still not married?" His fiancée immediately tightened her grip on his arm, smiling sweetly. "Ethan, who's this?" Ethan answered coolly. "Just a neighbor from when I was a kid." I froze for a second and almost laughed out loud. Back then, the traffickers had dumped him in a ravine in the hills, and I followed the sound of his crying until I found him. To lead those men away, I rolled down a slope and broke my left leg. When he woke up, all he remembered was a little girl who'd given him half a honey cake. He never knew that girl had been left disabled for life. I did try to explain, later. He said, "Chloe's too kind to lie. Nora, don't try to take credit for something like this just to get close to me." During the harvest bonfire, he hung the silver pendant his fiancée had given him on the old locust tree, saying it was to thank the girl who'd saved his life all those years ago. My dad stood at the back of the crowd, his eyes wet. "Nora, do you want me to go talk to him?" I watched Ethan gently drape his jacket over someone else's shoulders, and suddenly, I let it all go. "No need. "He's looking for the girl who saved him. Not me."

After our family went bankrupt under millions of dollars of debt, I risked my life to protect my little sister from the ruthless loan sharks. She, however, floated above the squalor—a saint who treated money like filth. I was beaten half to death trying to guard the last thousands of our savings. Once the money was secured, she handed every last dime to a pitiful distant uncle. I saved us from the goons with a smashed glass bottle, shielding her all the way to the police station. Instead of thanking me, she called me barbaric, insisting I should have sat them down for a civilized conversation. I toiled for months pulling three grueling shifts a day to settle our father’s debts, while she lounged at home basking in a peaceful domestic paradise, handing out charities when it pleased her. Then came the day I was framed for embezzling funds from my father’s friend’s company. I begged her to testify in court—to tell them it was a predatory scheme I was tricked into. But she simply looked down at me. “If you did nothing wrong, then you have nothing to fear. The law will grant you justice when the time is right.” Her pious refusal was my death sentence. Driven to the brink to repay the missing funds, I was cornered on the edge of a half-built construction. A shove sent me plunging down, my bones shattering on the cold concrete below. While I bled out on the ground, she was promptly adopted by our father’s friend, married off to a high-born heir, and crowned the darling of elite society—a pristine gem everyone adored. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the day the loan sharks kicked down our door.

The night before my fiancé, Soren, and I were supposed to leave for Northern Europe to start our new life, the sounds of a lively discussion drifted from his private club. "Christ, Boss, are you insane? Why the sudden marriage alliance with the Rosetti family to make a play for Italy? Didn't you say you were getting out of the life with Abby and heading north?" Soren leaned back into a leather sofa, his voice nonchalant and muffled by a cloud of smoke. "Plans change. Besides, remember, I'm the one who made her who she is." "Once she sees the new empire I'm building, that little canary will come flying right back to my cage. The woman can't live without me." I stood in the shadows of the club, a wine glass in my hand, a dull ache blooming in my chest. The anniversary gift I had so carefully chosen for Soren was still in my purse, waiting for me to give it to him. I slipped out of the smoke-filled club, tossed the gift into the nearest trash can, and booked a one-way ticket to Northern Europe. But what he didn't know was that just as he could betray our future for Monica, I could abandon him for mine. All those years we spent dancing with death were never just for his sake.

I lead my team to develop a new drug formula that passed its first clinical trial. It becomes the key to the company's IPO. So, the board votes unanimously to award me an additional 5% in shares. But at the celebration party, my shares turn into three hams. I assume it is a prank by my colleagues. But to my surprise, Draco Faraday looks at me with disgust and says, "Don't think I don't know. You used your position as team leader to assign all the experimentation to Avery. Then, you take the credit for the results. This reward should go to her. As for you, you should be satisfied with the ham!" Seeing Avery Blake looking both flattered and overwhelmed, I am rendered speechless. I argue, "Avery is an art major. Does she even understand chemical formulas?" Draco's expression darkens. "Cross-disciplinary expertise is her strength, not a weakness. I won't argue with you this time. If it happens again, I'll fire you!” When I try to defend myself, he snaps, "Starting today, Avery is the team leader. You should get a taste of how it feels to be exploited." I look at him in disbelief for a moment before nodding forcefully with a sneer. "Fine. From now on, I won't assist if the projects run into any issues. Don't regret it." Draco looks at Avery approvingly."The only thing I regret is not making Avery the person in charge sooner."

My boyfriend got a tenure-track offer from Ashford University—and the night he found out, he cried in my arms for hours. Before he left the country, he held my hand, looking guilty. "Babe, the cost of living over there is insane, and you probably won't be able to find a decent job. Once I get settled, I'll bring you over in style…" He paused, waiting for me to appreciate how "considerate" he was being. What he didn't know was that just half an hour earlier, I'd overheard him on the balcony. "Don't worry, the tickets are booked. We're going together. No way I'm leaving you behind." On the other end of the line was his gentle, sweet junior. He'd spent years looking down on my education, always saying I couldn't understand his "soul." But every time I handed him my tips from waiting tables and delivering takeout—stained envelopes, greasy and crumpled—he'd take them like he was doing me a favor. What he also didn't know was that I'd long since gotten tired of playing the "I'll work to put you through school" bit. I only started dating him because he was cute—I wanted a little thrill. I just didn't expect to keep the act going for three years. And for a second here and there, I almost believed it myself. I was already looking for an excuse to dump him. Then he handed me one on a silver platter. So when he gave his little speech, I barely held back a smile as I fixed his collar. "Okay. Then take good care of yourself over there. I'm gonna be late for my night shift. Gotta go." I turned around and called my best friend. "Book me a table at VIVA tonight. I'm single again—time to party."