Cerita Pendek Plot Twists & Novel Bias Regret

On the day of the Hunt Festival, I have the healer remove my corneas. In my past life, my fiance's adopted sister, Mandy Wells, steals my Crescent Moon Bow and sneaks three Omega wolves into the royal hunting grounds. Mandy spends the day showing off, right up until one of her arrows pierces the chest of the pregnant Luna. The Luna dies on the spot, along with the heir in her womb. Afterward, the three Omegas claim in unison that I was the one holding the bow. When the enforcers show up at my door with the Crescent Arrow, I desperately try to explain that Mandy fired the shot. Mandy cowers in Connor Parker's arms while weeping like a victim. "Aliya, it's fine if you hate me, but you can't frame me for murder." Connor pulls out a memory crystal right then and there. The person drawing the Crescent Bow in the image has my face. "The evidence is right here! How dare you try to frame someone else?" The enraged pack drags me onto the execution stand. They gouge out my eyes, snap my legs, and burn me alive in the sacred fire. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day before the Hunt Festival.

Three years ago, my best friend was hit by a car trying to save me. She had been in a coma ever since. I sat by her hospital bed, holding her hand. "Serena, you promised you'd be my maid of honor, remember? Julian and I finally set the date. Please wake up soon, okay? I miss you so much." My choked sobbing was cut short by a phone call. The nurse was asking me to come pay next month's hospital fees. But when I came back, I heard the voice I had been desperately waiting three years to hear. "Julian, you told me to wait for you while you broke things off with her." "I've waited three years for you! She comes to see me every single day, and all I can do is lie here." "Now you two are getting married. What about me!"

On the day my bond with Alpha Claus was finally severed, I walked out of the Mooncrest Packhouse wearing nothing but the simple linen tunic I had on the day we mated. The Luna mansion, the sports cars, the infinite pack wealth, and our three pups—I left them all behind for Alpha Claus. He stared at me with a genuine shock before his usual mocking sneer returned. "Have you truly thought this through, Elise? You carried our three daughters in your womb, raised them with your own two hands, and now you’re abandoning them too?" "If you are truly walking away with nothing, I will even grant you a clean break from the pack treasury. No alimony, no pack protection. That way, it’s fair." Without a word, I picked up the silver pen, quickly signing my name on the scroll to sever our legal ties. "Yes," I said, my voice eerily calm. "It is incredibly fair." Claus hesitated for a fraction of a second, his claws lightly scraping against the desk before he slowly signed his own name. The moment his signature left the page, the faint, golden shimmer of our mate-bond began to fade, leaving only the deep, spiritual Pack Bond pulsing in our chests. "Elise, if you regret this, we don't have to—" I raised my hand, cutting him off mid-sentence, and walked out of the Alpha's office without a single glance backward. For seven long years, Claus had claimed that I only used my fated-mate status to steal his power and that I weaponized our three daughters just to tie him down to a weak, sick she-wolf. But none of his insults mattered anymore. By the time he finds the cold ashes of my dying wolf… He will finally understand the cost of his cruelty.

My parents, Dennis and Sandra Ford, always said the wiring in our old house was too outdated to power more than three air conditioners. My sister, Beth Ford, practiced her violin in her room all day, so she needed one. My brother, Monty Ford, had been sickly since he was little and couldn't stand even a little heat, so he needed one too. The last unit went to the master bedroom. I didn't say anything. I stuck to my old, creaking fan and got through twenty-two stifling summers in Battisata City. I thought that if I stayed quiet enough, obedient enough, my family would eventually notice me. Then came the day I borrowed Monty's air-conditioned room for the final online interview at a major company. Right in the middle of it, the door kept swinging open. Beth's singing drifted in from the living room, and my dad poked his head in for the fourth time. "Still not done? Don't forget to make your brother his honey-glazed fish tonight." The interviewer on the screen frowned. "Sorry, we don't need employees with an attitude problem." The second the screen went dark, I sat frozen in my chair, cold sweat soaking the hair at my forehead. "Hurry to the market once you're finished. The fish won't be fresh if you wait too long." Their nagging kept going, and that was the moment it hit me. What I'd lost over the years wasn't just a working air conditioner or a hard-won job. It was my entire family.

Halport's shipping tycoon is marrying off his daughter and making a high-profile scene by grandly parading 99 wedding ships across Lumina Harbor. Jeremy Sutton, my best friend, excitedly drags me over to watch the spectacle. I instinctively take a photo to send to my girlfriend, Hazel Shepherd. I suddenly see two familiar figures in my camera frame. Hazel, who is supposed to be working overtime, is wearing a diamond-encrusted satin wedding dress and holding the hand of her childhood friend, Chris Lussier, as they board the magnificent lead ship. I freeze for a moment, then angrily try to rush forward and confront them. But Jeremy grabs me and holds me back. "Chris has always been Hazel's fiance. You're just humiliating yourself if you walk over and cause a scene. "I feel so bad for Hazel, who pretended to be poor and stayed with you in that cramped apartment for eight years. I'm saying this as your best friend—show some self-respect and don't be a shameless homewrecker." I feel completely numb inside as the cold sea breeze brushes against my face. It turns out that the woman I have been with for eight years has been lying to me all along. Even Jeremy, my best friend, has known the truth all along and hides it from me. I suddenly receive a message from Hazel. "I just got off work and took on two more tutoring gigs, Sebastian. I'll work hard and save up the 12,000 dollars for the wedding fund soon. I'll then head back to your hometown to get married to you, Sebastian." I look at the wealthy heiress standing on the ship, finding the whole thing utterly ridiculous. "You don't have to do that anymore. Mom is telling me to return home for a blind date."

On our third Valentine's Day since marrying the Don Arthur, he set the three places at the dining table. With the same hands he used to wield a gun, he carefully peeled shrimp. Shrimp was Lora's favorite, the first love he'd never gotten over. I was allergic to shellfish. He dismissed every hurt he'd caused me and sided with Lora every time. He was certain I loved him so deeply that I would swallow every insult and step aside forever. Everything changed when I discovered Lora's role in my father's murder and learned how completely Arthur's blind trust in her had buried the truth. That was when I finally saw him clearly. I was done with Arthur and the love he claimed to have for me.

A week before Christmas, I received a year-end report titled "My Business with Your Wife." [Item one: this year's goal was to sleep with your wife a hundred and fifty times. — Exceeded.] [Item two: get your wife to buy me a mansion and a luxury car. — Done.] [Item three: get your son to call me "Dad" ten times a day. — Exceeded.] [Item four: stand right in front of you and claim what's mine. — Done.] [Mr. Wolfe, I've been taking care of your wife and looking after your son too. So, are you going to give me a bonus, or step aside like a smart man?] He'd attached a photo, labeled it "family portrait." In it, Allyson Fowler had her arm looped through his, and my seven-year-old son stood in front of them. This guy was my son's kickboxing coach. Allyson walked in just as I finished reading that special year-end report. Nervous, she said to me, "Don't go looking for trouble with him. I was the one who made the first move. It's not his fault. Take it out on me any way you want, and I'll make it up to you however you ask." My blood ran cold. I just looked into her eyes and said, "I just want you to go back to how things used to be." Back to when she was broke, stuck in the mud with nothing. She misunderstood and let out a relieved breath. "Even with him around, I won't neglect you."

When I found out my wife was pregnant with her lover’s baby, I thought I’d lose my mind just like the first time I caught her cheating, smashing up the whole house like a lunatic. Instead, I looked at our antique vase and realized it was far too expensive to break over them. It just wasn't worth it. Later, walking past a bakery, I thought seeing her buying baby supplies with Joseph would ruin my appetite. Yet, to my surprise, the cake I bought tasted better than usual. Before going to bed, that familiar dark urge to swallow a handful of sleeping pills crept up on me again. I thought I was about to lose my mind and take the most drastic measures to get back at that despicable couple when my therapist sent a message, reminding me once more to go outside and get some fresh air. So, I headed south to soak in the sun and feel the ocean breeze. For twenty-seven whole days, I didn’t think about them once. That was until my wife, Sarah, called. “There are three days left in our divorce waiting period. Don’t forget to come back so we can finalize the paperwork. “Don’t worry, Daniel. This is just temporary. After I have the baby, we’ll remarry. You know you’re the only one I love.” Only after her reminder did I remember the divorce was even a thing. This time, though, I was exhausted. I didn’t want to play their games anymore. So, with the ocean breeze on my face, I said almost without thinking, “How about this time, we end it for good?”

I’d been with Hurley, the heir to the Crescent Claw pack, for seven years. He’d insisted on throwing me a huge birthday party. But on the day of the party, Hurley gave the million-dollar custom gown my mother had commissioned for me to his childhood friend, Rachel. He said it so casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Rachel’s dress got ruined, and we couldn’t find a replacement in time. You two are about the same size, so I just let her borrow it.” “I remember you have a few backup dresses, right? Why don’t you just wear one of those tonight?” I thought back on the past seven years, and how this wasn't the first time he'd put me second for Rachel. For one of my birthdays, he gave me a cheap necklace from a street stall but bought Rachel a ruby necklace at a high-end auction. His excuse? “You’re an Alpha’s daughter; you already have everything. Rachel’s different.” When I was sick with a fever and needed him, he was busy comforting Rachel because she was afraid of the dark. He’d told me, “Rachel’s fragile and timid. She needs me more.” It happened over and over again. This time, I was finally done. The borrowed dress and the unfaithful man—I wanted neither.

After carrying my girlfriend, Vera Lane, to bed, she suddenly snuggles into my arms. "Your roommate seems pretty wild. Give me his number." I freeze and glance at her. She casually pulls the blanket over herself. "We're getting married sooner or later, but don't you think it's pretty boring to be with only one person forever? I don't want to sacrifice my freedom for you." I watch her for a long moment. Then, I push her hand away and nod. On the day I move out, she stands in the doorway, frowning in annoyance. "Yves, didn't we agree we could see other people? Why are you mad?" I pick up my suitcase. "Nope, that's not who I am." Soon, she gets tired of that lifestyle and comes running back to me. I glance at the wedding band on my hand and smile. "Sorry, I've already moved on." The world is full of choices. If I don't want her anymore, I'll choose someone else. I deserve nothing less than the best.

My fiance, Justin Fox, was a workaholic. We were about to get married in a matter of days, but he remained consistent with his two-hour legal consultation livestreams. But today, he unusually ended his livestream fifteen minutes early. Puzzled, I checked out the broadcast recording. Everything was just fine until one of the consulters spoke. "Mr. Fox, I just had a divorce, and I have some disputes over the separation." I recognized the voice—it was Justin's ex-girlfriend. She was crying as she complained about how unhappy married life was for her, and that she regretted marrying her ex-husband. Justin straightened as he listened in silence, his expression impassive… until he sighed. "I regret it very much too. If I had known, I wouldn't have let you go." Livestream comments started flashing through the screen rapidly, as the viewers smelled gossip and promptly asked Justin what that was all about. Still, he didn't answer them and merely ended the livestream. "Sorry. Today's livestream is over." It was only now that I understood that the happiness I thought I had was just him making do. In that case, I would walk away from this engagement too.

My best friend, Cassidy Lockhart, behaves like an entitled princess. She wants to visit a princess theme park, but insists that princesses don't wait in line. Without a second thought, my boyfriend, Silas Culburn, spends our entire 6,000-dollar savings on VIP passes and the parade experience, treating her like royalty. That 6,000 dollars is the money Silas and I have saved up over six months of part-time jobs. It's supposed to be our wedding fund. The caption on Cassidy's latest social media post reads, "I've always known that every princess has their own knight in shining armor." In the video, Silas gently places a tiara on her head. The two of them walk hand in hand, their eyes fixed only on each other. I take a screenshot and send it to Silas. He calls me back almost immediately. "Cady's your best friend, and her family just went bankrupt. I couldn't say no to one little wish." My heart sinks. "So you went ahead and fulfilled her wish using our wedding fund?" "We can always earn more money, but we're only ever going to a princess theme park this one time," Silas replies before hanging up. I think back to the time Silas first meets Cassidy. He tells me, "She reeks of money, and she's so entitled." A week later, he comments jokingly, "You look like an ugly duckling standing next to a swan when you're with Cady." I wipe away my tears, open my planner, and cross out the line that says "Save for our wedding fund." Now that the money is gone, there's no point in saving up for the wedding anymore.

While verifying the numbers for next month’s mortgage, I opened the shared Notes folder my husband and I kept on iCloud. I stumbled upon a hidden folder titled “100 things to get Ava out of Clyde”. The list was extensive. “1. Tell Dawn the budget for the outreach program’s been cut. Use the money put aside for the SUV to help Ava run her own bed and breakfast. “2. She has her eye on the custom platinum necklace. Place an order tomorrow.” I stared at my mobile screen, my blood running cold. Mike had spent the past year working in a remote community. When I found myself in the ER with a high fever, Mike simply told me, “Reception’s terrible out here. Just drink plenty of fluids.” I probed him with a text. “Babe, can you pick me up a silver bracelet while you’re in Black Mountain next week?” Mike was quick to respond. “There’s nothing around here but farms and dirt roads. Stop asking for expensive stuff. I’m busy.” Minutes later, I watched the note update in real time. “3. Dawn wants a silver bracelet, but I can’t get her one because every jeweler within a hundred miles is busy finishing Ava’s one-of-a-kind jewelry pieces.” With my eyes glued to the screen, I chuckled. Not voicing any issues, I simply tapped on the family relocation consent form tied to his transfer request and declined it. Mike sent a voice note right there and then; his tone of voice weary and dismissive. “Babe, I know this assignment has been hard. When I come home, why don’t we have the wedding we never got to have?”

The night before my childhood friend's wedding, I finish ironing my custom Cavell cashmere coat. When I open my bedroom door, I find my mom, Madeline Stewart, trying to squeeze my sister-in-law, Selena Walker, into it. Selena is struggling to breathe, but Mom keeps tugging at the sleeves, trying to pull them further up her arms. "It's a little tight, but the fabric looks expensive," she says. "Wear it to your parents' house tomorrow. It'll make a good impression." I put my hand on the hanger and tell her that I plan to wear the coat tomorrow. Mom's face hardens. She slaps my hand away. "When did you get so selfish? You used to borrow my clothes whenever you wanted. Now that you're all grown up, you can't even lend Selena one of your coats? Besides, we're family. Why does it matter whose it is?" Selena turns to look at herself in the mirror and laughs. I look at how badly the coat has been stretched around the waist and say nothing. Since she believes that being family means sharing everything, I think it's time I take back the supplementary card she's been using for the past five years—the one with a 20 thousand monthly limit.

I had just gotten back from the hospital when Mom pulled me into the walk-in closet and held a pale pink couture gown against me. "Try it on. It's from the designer's new collection. We have a major event this weekend, and as the Wellman heiress, you need to look your best." Heat crept into my cheeks. The pregnancy test results were still tucked inside my bag. How could Mom already know? I smiled and nodded. "But Mom, wouldn't white be better?" I ducked my head, a shy smile playing on my lips. The news of my pregnancy was right on the tip of my tongue. "White does look prettier. Soren has such good taste, picking that white wedding gown for Daisy. You're the maid of honor, so pale pink is perfect." The smile froze on my face. Just then, Daisy called up from the living room. "Vivian, are you home? I brought my fiancé!" I picked up my phone and stared at the good-morning message Soren had sent me yesterday. "My dearest Vivian, you are the only bride I will ever have." I turned around and saw Soren and Daisy standing in my doorway, wrapped in each other's arms. Tears spilled down my cheeks. Soren, you lied to me.

On the National Working Women's Day, the company gave perfume to every female employee as a gift, except me. Just as I was about to ask HR, I overheard my colleagues whispering in the breakroom. "After all, Gianna is the CTO. Isn't it a bit too obvious to leave her out so publicly?" "That’s Mr. Caro's order. We’re just following it." "Who doesn't know Serena is Mr. Caro's real love? But Gianna shamelessly spends half her day running into his office!" I froze in place. Married for three years, I accompany Matthias Caro in building this company from the ground up. To avoid office gossip, I never asked him to make our relationship public over those these years. In return, when my colleagues maliciously speculated about me, I got his indifferent, evasive silence and his blatant favoritism toward an intern. Taking a deep breath, I picked up my phone and dialed the number of my father, who was the most feared Mafia Don of the East Coast. "Father, I plan to return to the family." "And... please change the company's bidding slot to someone else." For three years, to protect Matthias's pride, I hid my identity as the Mafia Princess, leveraged my network and technology to bring hundreds of millions of dollars into his company, and even secured a spot in this bid. But now, I’m taking it all back.

Ever since my husband, the mafia capo Rocco Marchetti, poured all his attention and the family's resources into his brother's widow, the woman whose husband took a bullet for him. I found our daughter Tessy's diary, where she had started writing, "My Papa is gone." A nun from her private Catholic school called, asking about his passing. I paused for a moment. "Yes," I replied. "He passed away a long time ago." On Father's Day, the school organized a trip to the church to light prayer candles. While other children wrote cards praying for their fathers' safety, Tessy neatly wrote just two words on hers: "To Heaven." During the parent-teacher open house, the nuns displayed the children's decorated diaries on their desks. The theme for their entries was My Father. My Papa died in a shootout in the next neighborhood over. A lady there wouldn't stop crying, and then Papa never came home. After every entry like this, she would clutch the crucifix on her necklace, her small hand gripping it so tightly her palm grew slick with sweat. Eventually, Rocco sensed the growing chill at home. He dropped everything and rushed back to the estate with a bouquet of expensive red roses, hoping to celebrate his daughter's birthday with her. The door opened. On the coffee table lay Tessy's new diary, its title scrawled in a childish hand: If Papa Were Still Alive.

At the pack celebration, my Alpha boyfriend walked right past me and invited my best friend, Serena, to dance. "You can't dance. I didn't want you making a fool of yourself in front of everyone. If you're tired, go sit over there and get some rest." He spoke words of concern, but they wounded me deeply. He had no idea I'd spent a whole month practicing for tonight's dance, that I'd lost count of how many times I'd fallen, or that my legs were covered in bruises. Before I could protest, the two of them were already gliding across the dance floor. They danced like they'd completely forgotten I existed. This wasn't the first time Nathan had ignored me because of Serena. I didn't make a scene. I just quietly left the banquet hall. That night, I booked my flight ticket and submitted my application to leave the pack. I had once followed him to this distant pack because I loved him. Now that the love was gone, I could just as easily walk away.

My house suddenly catches fire. The nanny is burned across nearly 80% of her body while saving my son, and the doctors spend three days fighting to keep her alive. But I fire her because of a single glass of water she gives him. Then I hire a lawyer and demand that she pay me back for every expensive supplement she took while working for us. My son looks at me as if he can't believe what I've become. "Mom, when did you become so heartless? Amy almost died saving me, and you won't even cover her medical bills. Now you're firing her too? "You're the one who taught me never to forget what someone has done for me. If you won't help her, I will!" I hold his gaze without flinching. "Then go ahead! Samuel, I've frozen all your cards, so you won't be using a cent of my money. If you want to help Amy, you'll have to find a way to pay her bills yourself." Because of what I've done, everyone in my family thinks the worst of me. But I don't explain myself to any of them. After all, I've already died once. In this second life, I'll do whatever it takes to protect my family, even if it means being misunderstood by everyone.

At my mom's 50th birthday party, the host suddenly invites my adoptive sister, Megan Fraser, and me onstage to take part in a "Who Knows Mom Best?" quiz. All the relatives assume it is a special segment my mom has arranged to officially introduce me to everyone as her biological daughter. The first question is about my mom's favorite flower. I write down "lily", the flower she always keeps in her study. Megan, on the other hand, holds up her board and says, "White camellia. Mom said it was the first flower Dad ever gave her." My mom nods and says, "Megan remembers it better than anyone." The second question asks what my mom takes for her stomach problems. I write down the medication her doctor prescribed. Megan writes down the soup my brother, Josh Fraser, makes. "Kathy, you've been back for three years, and you didn't even know Mom hates taking medicine?" Josh mocks. After that, Megan correctly answers questions about my mom's usual size, the opera she listens to when she can't sleep, and her favorite perfume. One by one, the lights beside me—symbols of our supposed bond—go out. The last question is who my mom wants to give the family heirloom brooch to. Megan doesn't write a word. Instead, she slips her arm through my mom's and says, "Mom would never let me lose." As laughter fills the room, my mom personally lights the final light for Megan. Then she looks at me and says, "Just because you're my flesh and blood doesn't mean you truly know me. We'll talk about acknowledging you as my daughter another time." I walk straight off the stage and send my lawyer, Peter Richmond, a message. "Proceed as planned. I'm leaving tonight."