Contos sobre Plot Twists e Romances com Bias e Regret

The year we were too poor to eat anything but scraps, two important figures from the capital arrived at the orphanage. They had come to find the General’s lost daughter. After they did, they donated a hundred gold pieces with a wave of their hand and passed out pastries to every child. When I reached for mine, words scrolled across my vision. [Show them your pendant! They're here for you!] [Just expose the impostor trying to steal your birthright, and you'll finally have a family.] They said the General was my brother, and the Chancellor was my fiancé. However, I just bit into the pastry and buried my head a little lower. I already knew the two of them had come for the fake daughter. Whether I showed them the pendant or not, they were never going to look at me.

On our eighth bonding ceremony, my mate left me at the altar—again—for his so-called Omega sister. Slap. Felix Ortiz yanked the Moonstone token back without a second glance. "Willow's hurt. We'll push it a week." Then he strode off, leaving the entire crowd staring after him. The first time, she'd misplaced the ceremony's Moonstone. The second, she had a fever and needed him by her side. Third, fourth, eighth—every time there was a "legitimate" reason. Every time, I was the one who caved. I fought. I screamed. Felix always said the same thing: "You're overthinking it. She's just my sister. My future is with you." But this time, I decided I wanted no part in his future. So I went back to my own territory. Picked my career back up. And he—he lost his damn mind.

The year I lose my eyesight, I happen to stumble upon Wendy Peck, who's just moments away from freezing to death. I beg my mom to save her, telling her I want a companion to guide me. Leaning toward Wendy, I whisper a promise in her ear. "I don't need you to be my guide. Just focus on staying alive. And you can go wherever you want." But after my mom remarries, Wendy stays and becomes the only person I have left to rely on. She watches over me as I grow up, acting as my white cane year after year. She even goes so far as to walk away from her dream and incredible talent for painting to study medicine, all for the sake of my eyes. But even though she has become one of the best eye doctors in the world, I still can't see a thing. Then, on my 25th birthday, Wendy's former closest friend, Abel Petersen, wins a prestigious art award. Wendy locks herself in the study, and all I hear is the rustling of paper. Keeping her emotions in check, she tells me she's writing me a birthday wish. Just as I happily step forward to kiss her, lines of comments suddenly sweep across my pitch-black vision. "Wake up, you blind idiot. She just tore all her paintings to shreds, and on the back of every single one, she wrote, 'Drop dead, James Glover.'" "Don't take another step forward! She left a live wire in front of you. If you step on it, you're a goner!" I freeze in my tracks. Then, with a smile, I continue to stride toward her. "Wendy, all your wishes will definitely come true."

After I found my husband in bed with my best friend, I was ready to set the house on fire and take them both with me. Just as I picked up the lighter, I received a video call from my future self. My future self's eyes were bloodshot. She pointed at the grotesque, disfigured right side of her face and screamed. "Sophie, stop! If you do this, you'll end up exactly like me!" "They both survived. Then they had you convicted of attempted murder, divorced you while you were in prison, stripped every asset from your name, and patented the breakthrough drug you'd just developed!" "That... that drug will be the only effective leukemia treatment anyone develops for the next twelve years. They'll make tens of millions of dollars from it." "And you'll pay for it. Twelve years from now, you'll walk out of prison looking like me, treated like a monster and too terrified to show your face outside..." A shudder tore through me. I hurled the lighter into the trash. Only then did my future self let out a relieved breath, though her eyes quickly filled with urgency again. "Remember, get the divorce as soon as possible!" "Then go straight to the Ashton Biomedical Research Center and find Vincent Hale, the rival you could never stand. He'll help you..." The screen went black. I stared at my own reflection in the dark display. I took a deep breath and opened the kitchen door. "Let's get a divorce. I'm done."

Three months after we lost our pup, Gavin took me to Moon Goddess Peak to pray for the baby we'd never gotten to hold. On the way, his ex-mate, Mia, joined us with their daughter, Leah. Halfway up, an old injury sent Mia's wolf into a violent flare. Gavin held her tightly in his arms. "Erin, go back to camp and get her wolf stabilizer." "Mia barely survived wolfsbane poisoning. If her wolf slips out of balance again, she could be in real danger." Weak from the night before the new moon, I fought my way back through the freezing mountain wind. By the time I reached the pass with Mia's medicine, they had vanished. All that remained were three stacked moonstones and a Polaroid. In the photo, the three of them stood before the moonstones. Gavin held Leah. A message was scrawled across the back: "A family pilgrimage should be made as a family." Gavin's voice sounded in my head through the bond. "Erin? Why are you still on the mountain? We're already back at camp." "I figured once you saw we were gone, you'd come down on your own. A storm's coming. Don't go any higher. You've always been good with directions." The night before a new moon was when a wolf's power ran thinnest. And it had only been three months since I'd lost my pup. My body stood no chance against the silver frost. I crawled desperately through the snow. Just before I blacked out, a mountain patrol ranger found me and dragged me to safety. When I pushed open the door, the three of them were gathered around the fireplace, looking through the photos they'd taken. Gavin didn't even look up. "What took you so long?" He finally glanced at me. His gaze swept from my frost-covered hair to my soaked coat, and a crease formed between his brows. "Go change before you make yourself sick. Mia still isn't stable, and I can't handle two patients tonight." Forget it. I deleted the rest of the pilgrimage itinerary. Then I signed the acceptance letter for the Geneva posting.

Three nights before my wedding, I called my fiancé, Garrett. A version of him from five years in the future answered. I couldn't keep the happiness out of my voice. "Are we happy together? Has your mother finally accepted me?" A long silence hung on the other end before a low, tipsy chuckle came through. The laugh was faint, the kind you'd use to humor a naive child. "Vivi, in the last five years, you've asked me for a divorce more times than I can count." I froze. "...What do you mean?" "It means you found out about me and Kiera." My breath caught. I couldn't believe it. "My sister? I thought you couldn't stand her." He let out a quiet sigh. "Vivi, saying I couldn't stand her was just my way of hiding how I really felt." "Don't worry, I won't divorce you. We made our vows at the altar, after all." A chill ran through me. I wanted to press further, but a lazy little giggle drifted through from the other end. "Garrett, who is it?" He murmured something in response and hung up. A second later, a message from Garrett popped up on my phone. [Vivi, our wedding is almost here. You're happy, right?] [I'll be good to you for the rest of my life. If I ever break that promise, I don't deserve to live.]

30,000 emergency meals meant for the disaster-stricken area were all sent to the incinerator as hazardous waste. The order to destroy them came from the deputy chief of the Health Department, Joanne Shea, my wife. The whistleblower was her childhood friend, Kevin Stafford, who claimed to be a retired undercover journalist. This was already the third time he had targeted my company. The first time, he reported my truck for illegal parking. Joanne then forced me to issue a public apology. The second time, he conducted an undercover investigation and accused me of violating packaging label regulations. Joanne issued a fine without hesitation and ordered my company to undergo a month-long rectification. Each time, Joanne has sided with him, using me as an example for others to learn from. This time, with water and electricity cut off in the disaster area, I rushed supplies there overnight only to be blocked at the entrance once again. Holding the certification of compliance, I pleaded, “The front lines can’t wait. If anything goes wrong, I’ll take the blame with my life!” However, Joanne coldly waved me off. “Kevin is a journalist. He would never take the disaster area lightly! Destroy the supplies immediately!” Two days later, the lab report confirmed that the food met all standards. However, the emergency rations had already been destroyed, and the “‘Poisoned Meals for Disaster Relief” scandal had spread like wildfire online. The company faced a widespread online boycott, and major clients terminated their contracts overnight. Joanne looked at the lab report. She felt guilty but still kept her arrogance. “I guess Kevin misjudged the situation, but he meant well.” I found it all hilarious and slipped off my wedding ring. “I’ve given you three chances. Let’s get a divorce.”

At the annual Rinaldi family charity gala, I bent down to pick up a dropped pearl earring. When I looked up, my fiancé—the ruthless Mafia Don, Caspian—and my former best friend, Sienna, were already at the other end of the ballroom. I grabbed my dress to follow them, but my place by his side was already gone. They stood close, whispering about bloody business I couldn’t touch. I felt like a stranger. I always knew my marriage to Caspian was arranged. We grew up together. We even went to the same college. Until Sienna showed up. She used to be my best friend. Now, she was Caspian’s sharpest blade. His right hand. Caspian and Sienna were the family's golden duo. They thrived in the dark, ruling through bullets and blood. Me? I scrubbed their dirty money clean, yet I was just arm candy. A smiling trophy locked out of his dark world. Caspian always loved tracing my jaw with his calloused fingers. "Your innocence is charming," he’d murmur. Then he’d turn around and handle the bloody family business with Sienna, without a second thought. Watching them fade into the shadows, a bone-deep exhaustion hit me. I was done chasing Caspian.

I'm New York's top fashion designer. Everyone says the industry is a swamp, but nobody ever dared lay a hand on me. Nobody knew my secret bed partner was the most dangerous, ruthless Alpha in the city. He used his power to pave my path, and asked for nothing. As his fragile human mate, he hid me away in his downtown penthouse. Every night after we were intimate, he would kiss my palm over and over. He'd bury his face in my shoulder, whispering that hiding me was the only way to keep me safe. He claimed his pack was torn by civil war and he needed time. He told me to wait until he could make me his true Luna in broad daylight. For seven years, it never missed a beat. Every single night, he only left after I fell asleep. I honestly thought he was obsessed with me. Until I overheard his right-hand man trembling as he asked: "The Council approved the vote. When are you bringing our real Luna home?" The Alpha sneered, his voice dripping with disgust: "Those old bastards trying to run my life again? Ava is just a toy. Make a human food my mate? I'm not out of my mind." And now? When my heart turned to ash and I finally walked away to let him have her... why is he losing his mind?

Legend has it that if you venture deep into Moon Forest, find a moonstone that symbolizes love, and give it to your beloved, the two of you will be together forever. In the seven years since I became Sebastian's mate, owning a moonstone necklace had become my obsession. He once promised me that the very first thing he would do after becoming Alpha was give me a moonstone himself. For that promise, I waited year after year. I once asked him, "Could you get me a moonstone necklace? It shouldn't be that difficult for you." But he didn't even look up. "I've been busy lately. I'll go find one for you once things settle down." But he was always busy, and I never brought it up again. Until one day, I saw an elegant little box on his desk with a moonstone inside. I was overjoyed, thinking the day I had been waiting for had finally come. But the next day, I saw that very moonstone on his Beta's Instagram. Her caption read: "I just casually said I wanted one, and you actually got it for me. So this is what it feels like to be someone's first choice." I gripped the hem of my shirt and silently turned off my phone. I went to a witch and asked for a potion to break the mate bond. I boarded a plane and left the place I had called home for seven years. I was no longer fixated on that little stone. I had my own wilderness to explore.

On the night Lucas Wright proposes to me, I take off with the ten grand his family broke their backs to pool together. In my previous life, I marry him with a heart full of happiness. However, in our second year of marriage, I'm diagnosed with cancer. From then on, he runs himself ragged, wasting away the best years of his life. In this life, I watch him fall apart, and I vanish from his world without ever looking back. … Seven years later, I work as a wedding planner. Right after I bring another dream wedding to a perfect close, Lucas suddenly appears in front of me. The woman walking arm in arm with him is Selene Beaumont, the daughter of a real estate magnate who has always had a crush on him in my previous life. Lucas sizes me up before sneering, "I heard you're working yourself to the bone these days just to make a living. Is this the life you chose after taking off with my money? If you get on your knees and beg me, I'll let you plan my wedding. "How about it? I know how much you love money. Don't worry, I'll make sure my offer is worth your while." Picking up on the mockery in his words, I calmly wipe away the blood from the corner of my mouth and part my lips slightly. "Sure. How does 45 grand sound?" With 45 grand, I can at least afford a nicer burial plot for myself.

My wife, Cheryl Sharpley, has a low sex drive. Every time we're intimate, she keeps a strict track of the time. Tonight is no different. We're only halfway through when the special notification on her phone goes off. It's a custom alert, reserved for one person. Her secretary, Henry Sadler, sounds extremely upset. "Ms. Sharpley, I dreamed about you. My chest hurts so much…" Without a second thought, Cheryl gets dressed and climbs out of bed. Pressing my lips together, I lower my eyes and reach out to catch her hand. "It's late. We haven't even—" "Henry is all alone in this city with no one to rely on. I'm his boss. I can't just ignore him." She doesn't even look at me as she says that. Calmly, she slips her hand free and stands before the mirror, applying fresh lipstick to her lips. "Today's task is complete," she adds. "I'll make up the time to you next time." My breathing falters. That's all I am to Cheryl—a task. Not long after she leaves, a message from Henry pops up on my phone. The attached photo shows him leaning against her shoulder. "Joseph, I'm really sorry. I was just so scared of losing her. I'll make sure she makes it up to you next time. You'll have to make do with your hand tonight." I read every word in silence. Quietly, I get out of bed, take a long shower, and strip the sheets from the bed, tossing them straight into the trash. I then change into a fresh set of pajamas. At that moment, I decide that I no longer want her in my life.

When I was six, my older brother, Garrett Johnston, died in an accident. Not long after, Dad finds a stray kitten with a marking on its wrist that matches Garrett's birthmark. From that day on, the cat becomes my brother. Dad takes down my desk to make room for a luxury litter box, leaving me to do my homework on the dining table. He tears down our bunk bed and replaces it with a cat tree, banishing me to a bed made of stacked cardboard boxes on the balcony. Dad spares no expense on premium cat food, treats, clothes, and toys, while I get nothing at all. Finally, I pluck up the courage to ask Dad, "Garrett and I used to share everything. How come he gets it all now?" Dad just snaps at me. "Do you have any idea how hard Garrett worked to come back to me? He's just a cat now! Why are you still fighting with him?" But Dad, why are you crying again when I listen to you and stop fighting with Garrett?

I stay behind to save a heart attack patient. So, I am unable to go and rescue Lucian Linton's dog. The very next second, I receive a message from my fiancee, Christine Stafford. It reads, "Because you stood by and did nothing, Lucian's dog ended up in the hospital! Let's postpone our wedding. Consider it your punishment." This is the ninth time Christine postpones our wedding because of Lucian's unreasonable behavior. This time, I don't want to play along with them anymore. Just then, floating comments appear before my eyes. "Hurry to the rooftop! Christine loves you. She saw through Lucian's tricks a long time ago." "She's postponing the wedding to surprise you. She's secretly planning the wedding of the century for you." I felt a pang in my heart. Filled with guilt, I rush to the rooftop to find her. But the moment I reach the door, I hear Lucian chuckle. "Do you think Maxwell will come beg for your forgiveness after seeing those messages?" Christine replies with a teasing smile, "Of course. That's our company's newest AR technology. Besides, he loves me so much that he won't question it, even if it's fake. This is his fault in the first place. He deserves to be taught a lesson." I freeze. So even those so-called comments claiming she loves me are merely a trick she has pulled on me just to humiliate me. Swallowing the bitterness that wells up inside of me, I turn and walk away. What Christine doesn't know is that after her fake comments disappear, the real comments finally appear before my eyes.

Auremont City's most prominent heir, Huxton Dunne, was finally back on his feet after three years of paralysis. His friends threw him a party at a private club. Margo Myer stood outside the door, clutching a gift she'd picked out just for him. Before she could walk in, she heard voices inside. "Dude, Margo basically got you back on your feet. You wouldn't be here without her." "For real. Three years of rehab, massages, barely any sleep because she was scared something might happen to you at night? You owe her forever." "She really is amazing," Huxton said. Margo's fingers tightened around the gift. Warmth filled her heart. Then one of his friends asked, "So... when are you gonna marry her?"

My sister Sofia and I married into the Moretti family, New York's most feared dynasty, and got pregnant less than a month apart. I married Dante Moretti, the eldest son and youngest trauma surgery chief St. Vincent's had ever appointed. Sofia married his younger brother Luca, a Major Crimes detective with a badge and a Moretti army at his back. One carried a scalpel. The other carried a gun. Behind them stood a family that owned docks, unions, private clubs, and half the secrets in Manhattan. Everyone said we'd won a life women would kill for. On my first anniversary, I left a maternity clinic with our daughter's fetal heart scans. Sofia hopped out at a bakery for a cinnamon-apple tart. That craving saved her life. The black Cadillac carrying me cut through an intersection and drove straight into an armored truck. Metal folded around me. Glass filled my mouth. Beneath the screaming brakes, I felt my baby stop moving. I called Dante with a bloodied hand. He rejected me three times before answering the fourth. "Enough with the loyalty tests, Elena. Valentina's old gunshot wound triggered an arrhythmia, and I'm treating her. You and Sofia don't get to invent emergencies every time we help her." Sofia called Luca in tears. He was at Valentina's townhouse investigating a triggered alarm. "A false report leaves a record," he said. "Stop helping your sister put on a show." In the end, my eight-month-pregnant sister smashed open the warped car door and dragged me through broken glass and leaking gasoline. She commandeered a hotel SUV and drove me to the ER herself. I survived. She went into premature labor and lost her son the same night I lost my daughter. After surgery, we lay in neighboring beds while dawn bled through the windows. "Elena," Sofia whispered, "I'm done with my marriage." I reached across and took her ice-cold hand. "So am I."

Everyone in New York knew my name—Bella Moreau. I was the one person Theo Romano, the city's most feared mob boss, would kill to protect. Anyone who defied me or so much as looked at me the wrong way never escaped his wrath. But when his first love, Eve Laurent, returned, he turned me into a tool to please her, showering her with all the affection that had once been mine. Eve casually claimed I'd slapped her. The very next day, an assassin came after me, leaving me with two broken ribs. Eve claimed I'd smashed the jewelry Theo had bought her. The next day, I was kidnapped, stripped naked, and humiliated. Eve accused me of pushing her down the stairs and breaking her leg. Theo threw me into the basement and left me there for three days without a single drop of water. Day after day, he watched me grow quieter. I stopped arguing with him and making a scene. He thought he'd finally broken me, sanding away every rough edge until I became the obedient, understanding wife he'd always wanted. What he didn't know was that today was the 1,826th day we'd been together. Our secret marriage agreement would expire today. At last, I was finally free.

In our town, every family that welcomed a daughter planted a cherry tree the year she was born. When she got married, the tree would be cut down and crafted into two matching hope chests, filled with her dowry as a blessing that husband and wife would stay together for life. Half a month before my sister's wedding and mine, my brother, Ace Bates, came home with the finished chests. He struggled to carry them through the front door. Rianne's eyes lit up the moment she saw them. My mother, Martha Bates, gently stroked Rianne's hair. "My precious girl is getting married already. It feels like just yesterday you were still my little baby." My father, Ira Bates, frowned, his voice firm. "If that boy ever treats Rianne badly, I'll skin him alive." No one seemed to notice anything was wrong. My gaze drifted behind Ace. There was nothing. No second chest. I looked at him and asked, "Ace, where's mine?" He froze for a second, as though he'd only just remembered that I was getting married that day too.

The first time Silvia Robinson undergoes ECT, she is all alone. Even Gregory Fisher, her fiance who loves her so much, is nowhere to be seen. After the doctor gives her a muscle relaxant, she starts to get drowsy. She is in a daze when she recalls what happened that evening. She has waited three hours in line for a special cake, which she is planning to surprise Gregory with. However, she comes home to see Gregory kissing her younger sister, Ella Robinson. The two are deep in a kiss as they hold each other tightly in an inseparable embrace. The cake in Silvia's hands drops to the floor, smashed beyond recognition as Silvia delivers a slap across Gregory's face. Then, she finds herself being pushed down the stairs by Ella. As she rolls down the stairs, Silvia feels like she has already seen this coming. Anyone close to her will eventually be taken away by her sister.

After my fiancé Aiden Reynolds inherited his deceased twin brother's position as Don, he proposed a "split arrangement" to me. His time would be divided in half—Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays belonged to me; Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays he'd spend pretending to be his brother, keeping my sister-in-law Juniper company. The goal? To make sure Juniper safely delivered the Reynolds Family's first heir. So during that time, no matter how passionately Aiden and I tangled in bed, the moment the clock struck midnight, he'd pull away without a second's hesitation. Even when my fever spiked to 104 degrees, if it fell on a Tuesday, Thursday, or Saturday, Aiden would only say flatly: "It's Juniper's day. Call a doctor. Don't call me." When I was kidnapped by our enemies and dialed his number with trembling hands— All I got was his cold voice, "Stop being dramatic, be good. I promise you, once Juniper has the baby safely, I'll tell her the truth. After that, I'll throw you the grandest wedding and announce you as my one and only Donna." The line went dead. In that moment, something inside me died for good. What Aiden never knew was that I never gave a damn about being Donna. I was the only daughter of the Richardson Family's Don, the biggest Mafia family in Sicily. All I ever wanted was a man who loved me with his whole heart.