Historias cortas y novelas de Bias

At our engagement party, my best friend served as the emcee. She suggested a game called "Guess Who from a Cropped Photo." The first image appeared on the big screen. It showed nothing but a collarbone, and no one could identify the person. But I immediately recognized the edge of a scar peeking out from the bottom right corner. I confidently took the microphone. "That's my fiancé, Elton Werner. He has a crescent-shaped scar right below his collarbone." The next second, the full photo appeared, revealing my best friend. Lula Buckley covered her mouth and giggled. "Too bad you got it wrong! I got this scar when I fell as a kid. Elton was so worried I'd feel self-conscious about it that he burned an identical scar into his own skin with a cigarette just to keep me company." I was stunned. The second image appeared on the screen. It showed a butterfly tattoo. Elton snatched the microphone from me and shouted, "That's Lula again! It's the tattoo on her inner thigh!" The full photo flashed onto the screen. It was a vacation picture of Lula posing in a bikini. Blushing, Lula turned to me. "Oh, Betsy, how could you lose? I guess you don't know me as well as you thought. For your punishment, you're not allowed to join us for the after-party tonight." Elton patted my head. "Head home first, okay? I probably won't be back tonight, so don't wait up." I stood alone, watching them leave the venue together, laughing and chatting as if I weren't even there. Then I quietly slipped off my engagement ring and called to cancel the wedding. If Elton knew Lula better than he knew me, she might as well take my place at the wedding, too.

When I woke up, I had somehow become trapped in the body of my disobedient daughter. I had sacrificed everything, living frugally to send her to the best school. Yet, she called me almost daily, claiming—like someone trapped in a paranoid delusion—that her teachers and classmates were out to harm her. She was willful and rebellious, picky about food, befriending the wrong crowd, and even dating a troublemaker at a young age. As a sister, she was far from kind, constantly bullying her younger brother. And school? Surely, it couldn’t be harder than working a full-time job. But then, as I lived in her shoes, a group of girls cornered me in the restroom, kicking me mercilessly. Returning home, I was met not with care but with a sorry excuse for a meal. Only then did I begin to understand the pain my daughter had endured...

I was the last person you'd expect to find on Manhattan's Upper East Side. My parents, Grant and Helena Sinclair, were fashion royalty, and size zero was their religion. But I'd been overweight since childhood, and there was nothing they could do about it. By the time I was five, I weighed far more than other children my age and ate like a bottomless pit. My parents called me "Meatball" in disgust and shipped me off to live with my grandmother, Margaret Sinclair, on a farm deep in rural Texas. It wasn't until I won a full scholarship to Columbia that I finally earned the right to return to their New York penthouse. My father, a fashion mogul, took one look at me and frowned with disgust. "An XXXL hoodie, oversized sunglasses, and a black face mask. "You look like a walking trash bag. Are you too ashamed to show your face?" My mother, editor-in-chief of a Vogue-caliber fashion magazine, scoffed. "She probably saw Isabella with us at Paris Fashion Week and knew she'd look terrible standing next to her. "As if being fat weren't bad enough, she's got an awful personality, too." My sister, Isabella Sinclair, hurried over with feigned warmth and took my hand. "Your weight doesn't define you. There's no need to feel inferior to me." I was about to take off my mask, but my hand froze.

Bradley Fry, my CEO husband, loves bringing his friends home for meals the most. He claims that this makes them feel like an actual family. As they drink in the feast I've whipped up for everyone, one of Bradley's friends comments smilingly, "I knew that you were a virtuous one, Emily! Now this is how the legitimate wife should act!" My expression doesn't falter as I ask in a half-joking manner, "Oh? Does Bradley have a spoiled and pampered mistress by his side, then?" His friends are stunned by my question. A trace of panic crosses their eyes simultaneously. But Bradley just wraps an arm around my shoulders with a smile. "Don't listen to their nonsense, Emily. Who else is worthy as my wife but you in this world?" As I look at Bradley's nonchalant expression, I just shoot him a smile. But when I leave the room, I dial a number. "Philip, Bradley has cheated on me with another woman. I want him to be locked behind bars for the rest of his life."

My mistress tries to take Scarlett Astin's place as my wife, so I kill her, burn her body to ashes, and bury her in the middle of nowhere. Five years later, I become a general manager. Scarlett gives birth to twins, a boy and a girl, and we settle into a happy life together. I gradually forget about the past. Then, after Scarlett is discharged from the hospital, she suddenly says, "Don't forget to invite Madeline Brown to the twins' sip and see. She's an old friend of yours, right? She took such good care of me during my hospital stay." A chill ran through me, and the hair on my arms stood on end. Madeline Brown is the name of my dead mistress.

Caleb Wallace was born with an unusual pair of eyes. Whenever two had slept together, he could see a red thread connecting them on their heads. Because of this ability, he'd witnessed more than his share of filthy secrets. When he was 10, another red thread suddenly appeared above his mother's head. She had always been the perfect wife and mother, yet the man she'd been having an affair with was none other than his father's brother. After his father was told the truth, the man abandoned Caleb and, consumed by resentment, hanged himself at home. When Caleb was 15, he discovered that his school's kind and compassionate principal had red threads connecting her to several male students. However, none of the parents believed him. Instead, they accused him of being mentally disturbed and spouting nonsense, and eventually got him expelled from school. Even the girls who had confessed their love to him and claimed to adore him had slept with other boys behind his back. Over time, Caleb developed a deep aversion to women. In his eyes, they were all filthy, promiscuous, and disgusting. Then he met Elena Coleman, the heiress to one of the country's most powerful families. She had every opportunity to indulge herself however she pleased, yet she remained impeccably chaste. Not a single red thread had ever appeared above her head. And she was the woman who unexpectedly took the initiative and asked him to marry her.

It was the last stop on my pre-wedding trip with my fiance, Kieran Rose. I'd stopped at a scenic overlook to take a few pictures, but when I returned, Kieran's car was nowhere to be found. I called him right away, but he didn't answer. I wandered around the park three times, trying to find a way out, only to end up even more lost. As I began to panic, I realized that my best friend, Leah Lowe, had posted something on Instagram. "Best guy friend ever! Free ride, free trip, and a personal photographer. He's a 10 out of 10!" She'd uploaded a whole carousel of photos, every single one taken by Kieran. I zoomed in on the background of one of them and realized they were already in the next town over. Kieran and I had been together for seven years, and somehow, every date we'd ever gone on had ended with Leah tagging along. Apparently, even our honeymoon was no exception. Just then, a text from Kieran popped up. "I stopped to grab some water. Where did you wander off to take pictures this time? Hurry up and get back in the car." I stared at the message for a few seconds, then laughed. He still hadn't realized I'd been out of the car for five hours.

My lawyer husband, Chester Stratton, and our five-year-old son were kidnapped. By the time I arrived, the bomb had already detonated, and they were reduced to ashes before my eyes. My older sister, a prosecutor, had tried to help me track down the culprit, yet even she was captured and tortured to death. Everyone said my ruthless methods had earned me too many enemies, that they had suffered because of me. They said I should have been the one to die. Even the Criminal Investigation Division stripped me of my position. For three years, I secretly hunted for the mastermind. Until one day, my investigation led me to a restaurant. There, I saw my husband, my son, and my sister—the three people who had supposedly died three years ago. They were all sitting together, celebrating a little girl's birthday. Friends and relatives surrounded them, smiling as though nothing had ever happened. Fury surged through me, and I was about to storm over and demand answers when my best friend grabbed me from behind, refusing to let go. "Audrey, I know you can't accept this, but they're husband and wife now. If you make a scene, how are you any different from a homewrecker? Phoebe got pregnant with Chester's child three years ago. Everyone knew how ruthless you could be. Faking their deaths was the only way they could escape you." Beside her, my mother fixed me with a warning look. "It's good that you found out. For the past three years, Phoebe and Chester have been forced to move from place to place with their two children. It broke my heart to watch them live like that. Now, their family of four is finally happy. If you just walk away, everyone will forgive you." The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. I looked at the people before me and laughed until tears streamed down my face. So Chester and my sister had never died. While I had spent the past three years drowning in grief, they had been living peaceful, happy lives. And everyone had known the truth. Everyone had conspired to keep it from me.

Thor and I grew up together—we were the definition of childhood sweethearts. We'd promised to attend the same university, graduate, and marry right after senior year. Everyone envied us. They said we were a perfect match, destined for a lifetime together. And I believed that too. I truly thought I'd spend the rest of my life with him. Until the final semester of our senior year in high school, when a new transfer student named Lina joined our class. At first, the two barely spoke. But as they grew familiar, their bond deepened in ways I could no longer ignore. He started staying after school to tutor her, bringing her breakfast every morning. When she was upset, he'd take her for a drive along the coast. If she craved Italian steak, he'd have fresh cuts flown in. Even during her period, he'd quietly prepare everything she needed. I was furious. I confronted him, argued with him, and even threatened to break up. The first time I said it, he thought I was joking and coaxed me out of my anger. The second time, he dismissed it as another tantrum and tried different ways to please me. The third time, he broke down—standing outside my house in the pouring rain all night, half kneeling before me, begging for forgiveness. Again and again, I tried to leave, and every time, he refused to let me go. Yet with each reconciliation, something in him shifted. He started taking me for granted, assuming I would always come back. His patience wore thin. His apologies turned perfunctory. Even when he came to make peace, there was no sincerity left in his voice. So I said it for the hundredth time, and that was the last. That was the moment I finally gave up on him.

In my past life, my wealthy parents, Josiah Gunther and Yvonne Jackson, found me and brought me back into the family. I tried so hard to play the part of a sweet, dutiful son just to make them happy, but in the end, they wrongfully pinned a crime on me and drove me to my death. After being reborn, I stop holding back and show Josiah and Yvonne just how ruthless I can be. I completely change their perception of me, so they never dare to boss me around or talk down to me again. The moment I return home, I pick a fight with Mabel Gunther, my biological sister, and Nicholas Gunther, my adopted brother. After that, I deliberately provoke Mabel into striking me, resulting in me driving a knife through her palm. Later on, I seize the chance to bash open Nicholas' bedroom door and expose the sick truth about him drugging and raping Mabel. Josiah and Yvonne are forced to get rid of Nicholas to save the Gunther family's reputation. But that doesn't stop me from locking Mabel up in a psychiatric ward. In the end, I successfully seize control of everything in the Gunther family.

Eight months pregnant, a contraction tore through me like a blade. But my husband, the Mafia boss Darren, refused to take me to the hospital. His sister-in-law, Angelina, his late brother's widow, was also due. To ensure she gave birth before me, she produced so-called proof of my infidelity, insisting the child I carried was no true Falcone. Because the heir to the Falcone family had to be the firstborn grandson. Darren believed her. He locked me in an abandoned wine cellar. “Don't think for a second I don't know what you've been up to.” “Let me tell you, you're not giving birth to that bastard until I've verified its bloodline myself.” “Angelina’s boy is of pure blood. I have to make sure her boy is the family's firstborn grandson.” I tried desperately to explain. “My water is about to break! Please, take me to the hospital! He’s your son, I swear on my life!” “I’ll never fight for the position of heir! I just want my baby to be safe!” Darren simply kicked me and shot me a glance. “Who knows if you’ll change your mind later? Don’t worry. I’ll come for you after Angelina gives birth. When the baby is born, I’ll see for myself whose it is.” Later, as he gazed at the crying infant in Angelina's arms, he finally thought of me. But one of his men informed him, his voice trembling: “Boss, the Madam… and the child… they're both dead.”

Victoria Cooper cheated on me with my student. I caught them in my office, locked in a kiss they couldn't seem to break away from. I took photos and posted them online, making sure the whole world knew. When I asked for a divorce, Victoria dropped to her knees in front of me, sobbing. "Alexander, I made a mistake. The lights were off in the office. I thought it was you. "Please, forgive me?" To prove it had been a case of mistaken identity, she put Tyler Ford on a plane and cut off all contact with him for good. After she came back to me, she was nothing but obedient. Out in the world, she was the sharp, no-nonsense CEO everyone knew as Ms. Cooper; at home, she poured her whole heart out to me. I thought the crack between us had actually healed. Then, five years later, I stumbled into the deleted-messages folder on her phone. One thousand three hundred and sixty unread texts, every single one from Tyler. [Victoria, I miss you so much. Can I come back and see you?] She'd never replied to a single one. But she'd saved every message, filed away by date, in that folder no one was ever supposed to find. My blood ran cold. I set the phone down in front of her. My voice didn't sound like my own anymore. "Do you need me to step aside? So you two star-crossed lovers can finally have your happy ending?"

In my previous life, I used the golden blood of the dragon to nurture my beast wife, Priscilla Slither. That was how she became the strongest fighter in the beast world. But the first thing Priscilla did after becoming the young mistress of the Snake clan was enter the Secret Realm and find the Sacred Heart for her first love, Jasper Whiskers. I didn't want Priscilla becoming the public enemy of the entire beast world, so I went so far as to use up all of my cultivated power just to stop her. Jasper had a very weak bloodline. Without the Sacred Heart, he would definitely fail to evolve. But Priscilla didn't blame me for my antics. Instead, she became even more lovey-dovey with me. I thought Priscilla finally saw my efforts and realized how good a husband I had been to her. But as soon as she became the elder of the Snake clan, she had me skinned alive. "Kael Vaxenroth, you're the reason behind Jasper's failure in evolution and eventual death after his lifespan ran out! You should've died a long time ago just to make it up to him!" Just like that, I died in endless agony. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Priscilla insists on stealing the Sacred Heart from the Secret Realm. This time, I want to witness how Priscilla and Jasper seal their own fates with their actions!

I was reborn. The universe spat me back to the year of my SATs, eighteen again, right when Noah Ritchie confessed his love for me. Turned out, it was the last year he'd ever love me. That was the year he met her… the one who'd actually own his heart. For Carla Davidson, he didn't hesitate to confess his love to me, not out of sincerity, but to distract me from my studies. Because of him, I missed my shot at a top university and barely got into a second-tier one. He even staged a car accident to keep me from attending an academic competition, just so Carla could win first place. When Carla suffered from severe blood loss in an accident, he convinced me to donate so much blood that it permanently damaged my health and left me unable to bear children. Later, Noah was forced to marry me, but he spent every day brooding over a photo of Carla. And when he learned she was getting married, he abandoned me without a second thought, choosing to die for love. But in this lifetime, I'm wide awake. I won't love him again. I'll be selfish. I'll live for myself and no one else. So when Noah looked at me with his usual arrogance and asked, "Tiffany, will you be my girlfriend?" I met his gaze calmly and shook my head. "No."

On the first day the real heir, Kyle Snider, reunites with the Snider family, he slashes his arm on purpose and frames me for doing it with red-rimmed eyes. My adoptive dad, Jeremy Snider, doesn't hesitate to slap me without even getting to the bottom of the incident. When I turn my head, I can see the fortune score above everyone's heads. The score above Jeremy reads, "Fortune score: 8%. In three days, his investment will implode, leaving him saddled with a ten-million-dollar debt." Then, I turn to look at Kyle, whose eyes are still reddened. He lowers his head afterward. "Surely Nathan didn't do this on purpose. Please don't cast him out. I'm fine suffering from a little grievance…" Meanwhile, Jeremy, who used to view me as the apple of his eye, has nothing but disdain toward me. "You've stolen 20 years of Kyle's life, and yet you have the guts to slash him with a blade? Just how vile are you, Nathan?" As for Lilian Snider, my older sister who used to dote on me the most, throws my suitcase out of the front door. She roars at me, "Get lost right now! Ingrates like you don't deserve to stay here!" I don't say anything. Instead, I just look at the row of words floating above Lilian's head quietly. "Fortune score: 5%. In two hours, she will get caught in a multi-vehicle collision, leading to her legs getting amputated." I caress my cheek, which has gone numb from Jeremy's slap. Then, I slowly rip up the protective charms I've just gotten for them into pieces. After that, I pick up my suitcase. "Fine. I'm leaving." As soon as the front door is closed, I see the number above Kyle's head flickering once. "Fortune score: 85%. In the middle of absorbing the Sniders' fortune luck."

At the birthday banquet of the old Godfather, Salvatore Moretti, the estate was bustling with high-profile guests. Don Marco Moretti arrived late, bringing along his new secretary, Sophie. "Elena, move to the opposite side. It's Sophie's first time at an event like this, and she’s used to sitting next to me." I didn't hesitate for a single second. Picking up my wine glass, I walked straight over and sat down beside Salvatore, whose face was completely grim. Marco raised an eyebrow, seemingly caught off guard by how compliant I was. He then guided a visibly nervous Sophie into the seat that had just been mine. Soon after, my phone buzzed in my hand. 【Are you making a scene again? How many times do I have to tell you? I just brought the girl out to show her the world. Stop throwing these pathetic, jealous tantrums.】 【I’ll fly you to Paris next week to pick out your wedding dress. Stop giving me the cold shoulder, alright?】 I let out a soft laugh. Seeing the smile on my face from across the table, Marco smiled back, thinking he had smoothed things over. What he didn't know—What I was actually laughing at was the fact that we wouldn't be going to Paris at all. Exactly ten minutes before he walked through the door, I had already finalized the dissolution of our engagement with Salvatore. A notification from the airline popped up on my screen: Flight departing in three hours. Marco, after tonight, you and I are completely finished.

On the eve of his Alpha succession ceremony, my fiancé Hunter prepared lavish gifts for all the distinguished guests and had Freya distribute them. Freya obliged with a smile. Then, when she reached me, her gaze swept over me with nothing but contempt. “Move aside. This isn’t for you.” She tossed an exile notice at my face. “You’re just a she-wolf who likes to seduce. Think you deserve an Alpha’s gift? Dream on. You’re not welcome here. Get out of our pack!” At that moment, the guests opened the gift boxes Freya handed out. Inside, alongside a rare blue moonstone, were photos of me in intimate moments with other Alpha males from different packs. In an instant, I became the pack’s traitorous, unfaithful woman. My face darkened as I stared at Hunter. “You’re really going to exile me from the pack?”

A week after I gave birth via C-section, Mark Whitman invited his friends over to celebrate the birth of our son. The crowd was boisterous—more than a dozen people. Not one of them bothered to remove their dirty shoes. The wooden floor was soon covered in muddy footprints. Mark came into the room and, without a hint of concern, ordered me out of bed. "Everyone's waiting outside. Don't just hide here and rest—you're embarrassing me in front of our guests." I had no choice but to push through the pain, forcing my body to prepare a huge meal for the large crowd, all on my own. When I carried the final bowl of steaming soup to the table, Lily Hoyte—whether intentionally or not—jabbed her hand against the wound on my abdomen. My hand trembled from the sudden pain, and the bowl slipped slightly, spilling the hot soup onto Lily's shoes. Mark's face darkened instantly. "What the heck did you do, Cammy? Lily rushed here right after her plane landed from overseas to see our son, and this is how you treat her?" The crowd quickly chimed in. "Come on, Cammy, no need to be so petty." "Mark and Lily grew up together. If there was really something between them, do you think you'd even be here now?" "Do you even know how much those shoes cost? They're limited edition—easily over ten thousand dollars. And you just ruined them." Lily stood up awkwardly, her eyes misting with tears. "If Cammy doesn't like me," she said softly, "then I'll leave. I don't want to be a bother." But Mark grabbed her hand in an exaggerated display of protection, his voice harsh as he turned to me. "Wipe Lily's shoes clean. Right now." His partiality for Lily made something sharp twist in my chest. My lips quivered as I fought back tears. "The wound on my stomach hasn't healed yet. I can't bend over." At that, his expression grew colder. "Don't use childbirth as an excuse. If you can't bend over, then kneel and wipe them. And if you won't, get out of my house!"

My uncle had kidney failure, and I was a match, but I did not want to donate. I had looked it up online. Some donors ended up weak for the rest of their lives, stuck taking medication forever. I hated taking pills. Mom said that was all nonsense. A person could live perfectly fine with one kidney, she told me. It would not affect my life at all. She also said that if I did this one small favor for him, Grandma would finally love me the same way she loved my cousin. However, I did not even like my maternal grandmother. She played favorites. Grandma loved Uncle Oliver, so she loved his son more than he loved me. Every time we visited, Grandma and Grandpa fussed over my cousin and bought him all his favorite snacks while they handed me bruised apples. That was with Mom giving up most of her paycheck every month to take care of them. Still, if donating a kidney really was just a small procedure, then it was worth it to make Mom happy. I was about to sign the consent form when a wall of text appeared in front of me. [Does the main character in every second-chance story have to get screwed over and die before they grow a brain?] I would get screwed over and die? My hand froze on the pen. Another comment floated into view. [Wake up! If you donate that kidney, your health will be compromised for life. Say goodbye to every decent job. And nobody's going to thank you for it!] [And later, your mom's going to blame you for not having a good job, for not being someone she can show off to your grandma!] [She's going to clean out your savings and give it all to your uncle for some business scheme just to stay in your grandma's good graces. And when you try to get your money back? You'll be too weak to put up a fight. They'll literally beat you to death!] Mom frowned when she noticed me spacing out. "What are you dragging your feet for, Cody? I'm your mother. Would I ever set you up?"

The Sherman family’s wealth and business empire always went to the female heir, never the male heir. So, when I was barely a month old, all thirteen of my family’s banks and seventy-two shops were registered under my name. But, since I was a child, I always hated numbers. My grandfather, Hugo Sherman, had no choice but to pull in a distant relative, Simon Evan, from a side branch of the family to run the finances for me. The head of the family business served a one-year term. Every New Year’s Day, I stamped the seal again to reinstate him. For twelve years, I never once even opened the ledger. Every time, I just sat there eating snacks and stamped the seal without a second thought. Over time, everyone assumed the family’s golden seal was nothing but a toy for me. Then, Simon wanted to marry Grace Truman. When the Truman family heard he had been running the Sherman family business for twelve years, they immediately agreed. I was happy for him, too. I gave them eighty-eight chests of wedding gifts, and I gave Grace three prime storefronts as a special present. But the day after the wedding, Grace sold those three shops. The next day, she took away my house token. The following day, she confronted me with a ledger. “These are your living expenses over the years. I’ve rounded it down to two hundred seventy thousand dollars. Just sign an IOU. “You’re going to get married eventually. You can’t mooch off your cousin for the rest of your life.” I stared at the IOU, dumbfounded. Did she actually think that just because Simon had managed the Sherman family business for twelve years, the business belonged to him? His position was renewed by my permission year after year. What a coincidence. It would be New Year again in three days. Somehow, I did not feel like renewing it.