Cerita Pendek & Novel Bias Revenge

My girlfriend, Evelyn Reed, was orphaned at 15 and had relied on the supposed kindness of her stepfather's older brother to get through college. However, she never spoke about those years living under someone else's roof, always keeping that part of her past buried deep. I came from a wealthy family, and I had pursued her relentlessly from our junior year of college until graduation before finally winning her heart. Wanting to give her a fresh start and change her life for good, I gave her $500,000 to open her own studio. In just a year, her business became highly profitable. She even repaid every cent of the money I had lent her, with interest. Just when everything seemed to be falling into place, I proposed to her. "From now on, you will never have to think of yourself as an orphan again. My home is your home." She did not scream with joy or throw her arms around me. Instead, she slipped the diamond ring onto her finger through tears and whispered shakily, "You've been so good to me. I'm afraid I will never be able to repay you..." I thought she was crying tears of happiness. I thought we had finally found our happy ending. However, the very next day after accepting my proposal, she jumped from the roof of her office building and died on impact.

The day a rat sold out our East Coast safe houses, the FBI got its hands on the addresses of every old base belonging to the Five Families. The Commission gave the order: every associate had to report to the neutral church and register within seventy-two hours. Only those who completed registration would make the evacuation list and be picked up by the convoys. Once the list was sealed, no one could be added. But Viola Romano claimed she was the daughter of the Commission's Chairman. She said her father had already saved a spot for everyone. They didn't need to register, and they could still leave on the priority convoy. My friends believed her and canceled their registrations, one after another. I begged them not to gamble with their lives and told them to register just in case. Viola immediately accused me of being jealous and trying to ruin things for everyone. My boyfriend, Matteo Russo, said I didn't understand power and that I belonged in line with the ordinary members. In my last life, I reported the whole thing to the Commission. Viola was exposed. Everyone managed to register before the deadline and secure a spot on the evacuation list. She was cast out of the Family for impersonating the Chairman's daughter and obstructing an emergency evacuation. In the end, she died in an FBI raid. Everyone said she got what she deserved. They thanked me for saving them. But after we moved into the new safe house, Matteo shot me from behind. The bullet went straight through my heart. The people I'd saved just stood there, watching coldly. "The worst that could've happened to us was getting arrested by the FBI. Viola lost her life!" When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Viola promised to get everyone onto the evacuation list.

At 3:00 p.m., Rose Jenkins, the new hire who had barely been here a few days, suddenly tagged me in the company group chat with a few hundred people in it. [Hi, can you stop hammering your keyboard? The noise is making my stomach hurt! The baby I'm carrying is sleeping. If you shake it into a concussion, I swear I'll make your whole family pay for it!] I rushed to explain. I was racing to finish a proposal that was due soon, and I was using a silent keyboard. But she wouldn't believe me, no matter what I said. I kept my patience and explained it over and over. To avoid any more trouble, I even asked if I could move out to the hallway to work. What I didn't expect was that a week later, she would storm into the break room with a kettle of freshly boiled water and dump it straight over my head. I collapsed in a pool of scalding water, my skin blistering and tearing open. She kept screaming as if she had lost her mind and smashed my head with her high heels, over and over. "It's all your fault! I lost the baby! Your keyboard noise shook my son to death!!" My vision blurred. By the time everything went black, I still couldn't understand how a silent keyboard could possibly kill someone. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day she first went off on me in the group chat. This time, faced with the same insults, I didn't back down. I went straight into the chat and fired back. [Stop pretending you're pregnant. You've got more going on down there than your dad does!]

My boyfriend, Terry Bolton, comes from a rich family. He has a female childhood friend. Everyone said they were a match made in heaven, but he swore he only loved me and Sarah Horst was just his simp. He asked her to buy us condoms in the rain, but when he saw her soaking wet, he kicked me out. "Why did you take so long to open the door? You know she gets sick easily." My graduation thesis was ruined by Sarah's clumsiness. I asked her to apologize, but he yelled at me. "She's just a little clumsy. Why do you always make things difficult for her?" In the four years that I dated him, I endured again and again until, one day, a DUI hit-and-run case made headlines. Terry kicked my door open while hugging the distressed Sarah. "If you take the blame for her, I'll find the best doctors from all over the world for your mother. After all, you still have me, but if she goes to prison, her life is ruined." Looking at his anxious face, I chuckled. Did he forget that I'm a Harvard law graduate? Screw this relationship. I decided not to endure it anymore. She's going to prison for sure.

When I turn 18, my family suddenly strikes gold. Dad makes a fortune in business. We move into a huge house with a driver and a housekeeper. My younger brother, Vincent Becker, is sent to study in Basmar. After that, he graduates and marries a rich heiress. Their partnership makes our family's business soar. I'm the only one who misses my college entrance exam because of stomach cramps, and my parents marry me off to a lonely man in some rundown countryside. He locks me in a basement and hurts me every single day. I crawl my way back home, half-alive, but my parents only look at me with disgust. "Useless brat! How did you not die out there?" Vincent says that he'll take me out to clear my head. Instead, he shoves me in front of a truck. I'm rushed to the ICU with nearly every bone in my body broken. Right before I die, he leans down in his designer suit and whispers in my ear. "Let me tell you the truth before you die. Our family didn't get rich from business. We got rich because of the hundred-million-dollar lottery ticket you bought. "We cashed it behind your back and never told you." I die full of resentment, and right after my death, they sell my organs for 120 thousand dollars. I open my eyes, and suddenly I'm there again—to the very day I bought the lottery ticket.

After transferring my villa to my best friend, Dylan Truman, I'm told that I'm not even the owner. The villa under my name now belongs to someone else. How's this even possible? I'm the only son of the chairman of Livington Group. How can anyone else possibly have a claim to what belongs to my family? The employee hurls the property deed in my face, his voice dripping with contempt. "Here, see for yourself. The registered owner is Kenneth Johnson. It was transferred a few days ago, and Mr. Johnson's moving in today." This makes no sense. All of my family's property is registered under my name. Kenneth Johnson? Who the heck is that?

On the day I miscarried and suffered from haemorrhage, my husband posted a photo of a newborn’s tiny feet on his Instagram Story. The caption read: “Welcome, little angel. Daddy will always protect you.” With trembling hands, I called him. “The baby’s gone. Can you come to the hospital?” On the other end, I heard a baby crying, followed by the man’s impatient voice. “In that case, take good care of yourself. Louise just gave birth and needs someone to care for her. I can’t leave. “Besides, the dead shouldn’t compete with the living for affection. Got it?” He hung up right after. I broke down alone on the hospital bed, and when I finally wiped away my tears, I dialed the number of his sworn enemy, Levi Snow. “Marry me, and the entire Wright Corporation will be my dowry. All I want is for you to bring Finn Yeaton down. Do we have a deal?”

Right after the authorities issue the red flood alert, my boss, Bianca Larson, sends a message to our office group chat and tags everyone. "Kindly remain in the office instead of heading home this evening, so you won't have any issues coming in to work tomorrow morning. There'll be an overnight stay charge of 100 dollars, which will be deducted from your salary." All of my colleagues grumble about it, but no one dares to defy the boss. But in the middle of the night, the river embankment gives way. The nasty floodwater fills up the first-floor office, and not a single one of the 100-plus employees survives. Suddenly, my eyes open again. I've returned to the exact moment Bianca sends that message. Anna Wheeler, whose desk is next to mine, sighs and asks me how I intend to spend the night. I firmly declare, "I'm resigning!"

Just because his first love's younger brother accidentally fell into Shadow River, my Alpha mate, Ethan Horn, forced me, the only Spirit Soother of our pack, to go and rescue him. When I sank to the bottom of the river, I chose not to save him. When the man was pulled out of the river, the healer lamented, "If it were a few minutes earlier, Leo might have been saved. What a pity." Ethan's first love, Serafina Pike, had her wolf soul shut off and soon passed away because she missed her younger brother, Leo Pike. From that moment on, Ethan, who had once loved me, hated me to the core. Without giving me a chance to explain, he slit my throat with a silver blade and ruthlessly sealed my wolf soul. Later, he believed the heresy of the witch about soul sacrifice and nailed me and our young daughter in coffins before burying us alive by Shadow River as sacrifices to resurrect his beloved Serafina. In the end, the woman he deeply loved did not come back to life, and my daughter and I died with endless resentment. When I reopened my eyes, I had returned to the night when Ethan forced me to jump into the river to save Leo. I tied up the specially made rope and asked him for the last time, "Are you really sure that you can bear the consequences after I rescue him?"

Last Christmas—in my past life—I was on vacation when the call came. It was Lucy, the family’s new pet capo, and she was in a panic. She’d blown the deal with the Colombians, she said, and now they were threatening to make us pay. I had to rush back and clean up the mess. I saved the deal, but it still cost us a shipment of hardware. And then Lucy, the one who caused the whole mess, pointed the finger straight at me. “It was Madeline! She gave me bad intel! She must’ve set me up!” The truth? The deal went south because she mouthed off to the Colombians and pissed them off. But Henry, the Godfather I’d served loyally for years, didn't want to hear my side. He just branded me a traitor. He kicked me out of the family and put the word out to every outfit that I was a rat. I had a price on my head. I died in some gutter, my body left for the dogs. When I opened my eyes again, it was just before that Christmas. This time, I walked straight into Henry's study and handed over my family signet. "I want out." This time, I can’t wait to see who’s left holding the bag with the pissed-off Colombians.

When the rebellious and flamboyant Sylvia Carter returned to her home country, she discovered that her family had already married her off to someone. Her husband was Jason Porter, the head of his family, who was eight years older than her. Naturally, Sylvia was reluctant to accept it. During their first meeting, having heard that Jason was disciplined, reserved, and a clean freak, she deliberately showed up in a black, form-fitting halter dress. She even hired eight male escorts to fuss over her with refreshments. Her parents were embarrassed. Just as they were about to apologize, Jason calmly leaned forward. He held them steady with his strong hands and spoke in a deep, clear voice. "This arranged marriage has put Ms. Carter in an uncomfortable position. I should be the one apologizing to her." Sylvia froze. She slowly raised her head and met Jason's intense gaze. He had such alluring amber irises.

The day we submitted our college applications, the school beauty, Hayley Law, suggested we all go rafting to unwind. Every single person in class raised their hand in agreement. In my previous life, as the class monitor, I did everything I could to stop them. Wild rafting was far too dangerous. Without any safety measures in place, accidents could easily happen. In the end, everyone made it back safely and got into the colleges they wanted. But before the semester even started, news came that Hayley had gone rafting alone, slipped into the water, and drowned. When Terry Vargas, my boyfriend and the most popular guy in school, heard what happened, he took the lead in organizing a memorial at sea. Then, when the waves were at their worst, he shoved me into the ocean. Later, when the police questioned them, they all told the same story as if they had planned it. "Katrina insisted on a sea burial for Hayley. During the storm, she got swept away by the waves and disappeared." They even produced fake evidence to clear Terry's name. My parents were shattered. They went to Terry again and again, desperate for the truth, but he had them set up and locked away in a mental institution, where they were tormented to death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Hayley first suggested the rafting trip. I stood there quietly, watching my classmates pile into the bus she had rented, heading off to that same reckless trip. This time, I would just look out for myself.

My husband, Don Lorenzo, ran New York's underworld. And he's the one who put me in prison. All because his childhood flame, Cassandra Viti—the Viti family princess—killed my father. I was the first one on the scene. The Feds caught me standing over the body. He faked the evidence. Made sure I took the fall. I spent three years in hell. His apology? A single sentence and an unlimited black card. "I owe Cassandra three wishes. Once you're out, once I've paid my debt to her, you'll be my Donna again."

My sister lied and accused me of cheating right in the middle of the college entrance exam, all to snatch my guaranteed spot in college. My results were voided, and I was banned from taking the exam for life. "I don't want her to stray from the straight and narrow…" My sister cried in front of the cameras, as if she were the victim here. Then, she took the acceptance letter from a famous college that should've been mine. She also stole my boyfriend and told everyone they were an official item. Eventually, she got her happily ever after. Meanwhile, I got into a car crash on my way to the precinct to clear my name and died a horrible death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the exam room.

I went to an engagement party on my father's behalf. It was the engagement party for the daughter of one of his subordinates. As the Don, he couldn't attend himself. But when I arrived, I saw my fiancé, James Morris, proposing to another woman with my engagement ring. James spotted me and quickly pulled me aside, using the crowd to hide us. "So this is your business trip?" Tears burned my eyes. He looked annoyed. "Mina and I are just putting on a show. I'm doing this so I can give you a better life." If it were only a show, why had he left me burning with fever the moment she called? Why had he kissed her at a party while I was losing our baby, then let the photo spread across social media? Worst of all, why had he stolen the diamond made from Grandpa's ashes—my most precious possession—and used it to propose to her? Six years ago, I gave up half my inheritance so the Family would stay out of James's life. I stayed away for so long that many newer members had never even seen me. That was how Mina got away with pretending to be me. I also gave up wealthy suitors and chose to build a life with James from nothing. But the moment he saw a chance at money and power, he threw away our six years together without a second thought. "Oh, it's Eleanor." Mina walked over in a couture gown and slipped her arm through James's. I recognized the dress immediately. I'd thrown it out two years ago. "Don't worry. I'm only with James because my father likes him. He even wants James to be his successor." She looked me up and down. "I remember you don't have much going for you. You'll probably never find another man as kind as he is. If you ever need him, I'm happy to lend him to you." She smiled at me like I was beneath her. My fiancé. And somehow, I was the one who needed permission to borrow him. "Get out of here, do you hear me? I'll get you another ring." James wanted me gone before anyone started asking questions. Too bad he was sucking up to the wrong person. I smiled. "No need.

In my past life, when Mom and Dad divorced, they made my sister and me choose. My younger sister, Keira McKellen, didn't hesitate—she picked our rich father, certain she'd become a wealthy young lady and inherit a fortune. But Dad already had another woman, and once his mistress gave birth to a son, Keira went from heiress to nothing overnight. Worse, the woman drove her out of the house entirely, and she was left to wander with nowhere to go. I chose Mom, and ended up living the charmed life instead: I got into a top university, married into a powerful family, and went from ugly duckling to swan—the very top of the world. My sister's envy of me curdled into madness, and on the day my whole family gathered to celebrate my birthday, she burned every one of them alive. When I opened my eyes again, it was the day of my parents' divorce, all over from the start. I saw her rush to choose Mom before I even could, and I knew—she'd been reborn too. What she doesn't know is that living with Dad is miserable, sure, but Mom is broke and out of her mind, and life with her is even worse.

My wife was in a car accident and barely clinging to life, but I calmly stood outside the operating room listening to a sales agent introduce a new apartment to me. The doctor, covered in blood, came up to me. "The patient was impaled by a hard object in her lower body. There are two options. We can remove her uterus immediately, or we can try to preserve the organ, but that will require extremely precise equipment and the cost will be very high. "Please decide quickly. She doesn't have much time." I answered impatiently, "Then remove it. Don't waste the effort." When my mother-in-law heard that, she broke down in front of me, wailing. "Jason, I'm begging you. Use the money to save my daughter. If they remove it, how is she supposed to hold her head up for the rest of her life?" My father-in-law pleaded through tears too. "She's your wife. Can you really bear to watch her lose the chance to be a mother? Aren't you going to think about your own future?" I quickly stepped back and said, "If you want to save her, pay for it yourselves. I don't have any money." "Didn't we give all our money to you two? Take out the four hundred fifty thousand dollars you saved to buy a house and save her first!" My voice shot up instantly. "What? Spend four hundred fifty thousand dollars to save a piece of rotten meat? Are you kidding me?" As I spoke, I tossed my card to the sales agent and paid in full on the spot for the new apartment I had just chosen.

After three years of courtship, Noah Howell finally agrees to marry me. However, on the day of our marriage, he abandons me on the altar in pursuit of his dream girl, Isabella Dawson. Furthermore, due to Isabella's baseless accusation, I end up in the sanitarium. While I suffer unimaginable torture in the sanitarium, Noah and Isabella are enjoying themselves out there, living the time of their life. By the time he remembers to bring me home, I'm already a broken soul. Later on, Noah begs me on his knees, his face full of tears. "Sadie, look! It's me, Noah!" With a sneer, I ask, "Who's Sadie?"

“Sign this agreement. It extends your probation by three months and cuts your pay by forty percent.” Adeline Lancaster, the HR manager, casually filed her nails. She didn’t bother looking up as she rolled her eyes. “Don’t think this company can’t run without you just because you wrote the core architecture. “Tristan Rothwell has taken over all your code. You can pack your things and get out whenever you want.” I stared at her arrogant face and let out a cold chuckle. I had been with the company for three months and written every single line of the core codebase. Yet she had stalled my permanent position approval for over twenty days. She wanted to steal my hard work, cut my hard-earned pay, and use it to feed a connected slacker who couldn’t even parse basic scripts. Fine by me. Rip! I tore the agreement to shreds and slammed the pieces right into her face. Before she could scream, I pulled out my phone and tapped the screen once. I revoked every internal network authorization linked to my encrypted core scripts. “No need to wait,” I said. “I’m leaving right now.”

The day I got my terminal cancer diagnosis, I stumbled upon a hidden album on my mafia husband’s phone. One thousand eight hundred and twenty-six intimate photos. All of the same woman. None of me. Three years into our marriage, all of New York still feared Damian Moretti. Even as his only legal wife, I never dared ask about the blood on his cuffs—or the stranger’s perfume clinging to his skin late at night. I used to think he was simply born cold-blooded. Until I saw her on his screen, wearing his shirt in a secret penthouse I didn’t know existed, smiling freely in his arms. The cruelest part? The timestamp on the last photo was from two hours ago—the exact moment I was sitting alone at the hospital, signing my own Do-Not-Resuscitate form. When Damian walked out of the bathroom, he caught me staring at the screen. No guilt. No panic. He just walked over, took the phone from my frozen hand, and hit delete without a flicker of emotion. “Stay out of things that don’t concern you,” he said flatly. “Forget what you saw.” Before the screen could even go dark, it lit up again with a text message: Damian, you left your shirt in my bed again. Whatever was left inside me finally shattered. I pushed the prepared divorce papers toward him. “Sign them,” I said quietly. “I’m setting you free.” Damian’s gaze turned lethal. In one swift motion, he pinned my wrist against the headboard, the heavy Moretti signet ring on his right hand digging brutally into my bone. “Don’t test my limits, Vivian,” he murmured, leaning over me, his voice low and merciless. “Moretti marriages only end with a funeral.” I met his icy stare and didn’t say another word. He had no idea I only had three months left to live. The funeral he asked for was already on its way.