Bias 단편 소설 & 소설

On April Fools’ Day, I texted my wife and told her I was terminally ill. I told her that I had no more than a month left to live. I thought that if I made her cry, I would make it up to her with a villa. But as soon as I reached the front door, I heard her complaining inside. “Terminally ill? He’s already dying. Don’t tell me he’s going to waste money on treatment. “That money will be ours sooner or later. Why should he spend it on himself? “No. When he gets home, I’ll tell him I’m pregnant. “He loves me so much. He’ll definitely give up treatment for the baby and me.” Before I could process her words, I heard my best friend’s voice right after. “It’s no wonder you always say he’s up to no good. Every time you finish with him, you come to me so I can satisfy you. “I thought you were just greedy. It turns out he’s really that pathetic! “What do you think will happen if he finds out you’re carrying my baby? Do you think he’ll die even sooner?” Only then did I realize that my wife and my best friend had been having an affair for a long time. I laughed bitterly. Then, I turned around and called my assistant. “Don’t transfer the deed to the Bayhaven villa yet. Draft a divorce agreement instead.” She cheated on me and still thought she could take my money! She could keep dreaming.

Lawson and I had arranged to take photos for our upcoming marking ceremony. Dressed in my ceremonial gown, I waited for him in the forest all afternoon until my legs went numb and exhaustion seeped into every part of me. The werewolves accompanying me asked whether we should reschedule. I forced a smile and made an excuse for Lawson. "He's on his way. He'll be here soon." I had no idea where he was. I kept calling him over and over until my phone nearly ran out of battery. Only then did he finally arrive, but he wasn't alone. A shewolf followed behind him. She was draped in Lawson's suit jacket. When they descended the steps, Lawson turned back and offered her his hand. I recognized her immediately. It was Judy, Lawson's childhood friend. The moment she saw me, she looked startled and held onto Lawson's arm. "I'm so sorry. Lawson went to pick me up, so we ended up delaying your photo shoot." Lawson fastened his suit jacket around her shoulders before turning to me. "Let's get this over with. There are still matters in the pack that need my attention." Without a word, I walked toward the shooting location. Then Lawson frowned. "Your makeup's smudged. Let Judy test the moonlight first." Judy walked past me and stood beneath the ancient tree where Lawson and I had first met. I remained silent. Then I overheard two nearby werewolves whisper. "Honestly, Judy looks like a much better match for Alpha Lawson." Lawson didn't deny it. Instead, he glanced at me and reached over to smooth my hair. "If you keep making that face, you'll ruin everyone's mood. We're all exhausted today." I bit my lip as a lump formed in my throat. I couldn't help recalling the day we'd met beneath that tree. He had promised to take me around the world back then. Only seven years had passed, but those promises had already been long forgotten. Suddenly, I realized the person he wanted to make those promises to had never been me.

My fiancé had an incredible memory. He could remember anything after seeing it just once. However, when he proposed, he forgot to bring the engagement ring. When we went to register our marriage, he forgot to bring his identification. On our wedding day, he completely forgot that he was supposed to show up. He was too busy rushing to the wedding next door, where he was helping his childhood sweetheart save the day. When my mother saw what happened, she suffered a heart attack on the spot. I begged my fiancé to come to her hospital ward and explain himself. Instead, the man who had always kept me at arm's length turned warm and affectionate with his childhood sweetheart's mother. As for me, he introduced me as nothing more than a junior from school who refused to leave him alone. After that, I arranged my mother's funeral by myself and applied for an overseas work assignment. When I returned home to pack my things, my fiancé had just come back from his honeymoon with that woman. He looked completely satisfied, a smile playing at the corners of his eyes. "Rose, how is your mom doing? We can pick another proper date for the wedding. That’ll make her happy." He had no idea that from the moment my mother died, there was no longer any possibility of a future between us.

My long-lost older sister, Natalia, was pregnant when she was brought home. The moment my fiance, Duncan, saw her, he let go of my hand and strode to her side. He then confessed, “I’m sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Jacklin. The baby in Lia’s belly is mine. I will call off the wedding with Felicity.” I stood frozen in place. Then, a barrage of words floated before my eyes. Apparently, Duncan was the male lead, I was the villainess, and Natalia was still my sister. [Duncan returned to the past, didn’t he? He and Natalia were secretly seeing each other back then, but they never came clean because they didn’t want to hurt Felicity’s feelings. So, he got forced into marrying Felicity instead.] [After they got married, Felicity found out about their affair. She forced her parents to send Natalia overseas. Then, at the airport, she had a baggage cart crash into Natalia. The impact caused uterine rupture and severe hemorrhaging, and she died.] [Duncan despises Felicity. To get revenge for Natalia, he killed Felicity by letting her bleed out.] I bled out? I shot a glance at the man I had loved since childhood.

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.

For seven years in a row, the Moon Goddess chose me to serve as the Saintess of the Silver Moon Pack. And every year, my mate-to-be, Alpha Kael Ashborne, handed the title to my adopted sister, Rosalie. "Rosalie is an Omega. She needs the position if she is ever going to earn the pack's respect." "I promise, Elara. Next year, the title will be yours." My mother baked Rosalie a cake to celebrate and dressed her in a one-of-a-kind gown sewn with moonstones. My father watched me as though he expected trouble, then let out a weary sigh. "Elara, could you try being generous for once and stop making a scene?" A bitter smile tugged at my lips. They had no idea why I had fought so hard for the Saintess title for seven years. I had Wolf Soul Decay Syndrome, and only the Silver Spring water reserved for the Saintess could save me. And now, I had only one month left to live. I no longer cried or argued. I simply nodded and agreed to everything they asked. They thought I had finally grown up. They thought I had learned to put Rosalie first. What they did not know was that I would soon be gone for good.

During a project review meeting, the new Gen Z intern, Jake Wilson, suddenly acts up by cutting to the server's backend logs on the projector. With a sneer, he says, "Mr. Miller, there's been an ongoing traffic anomaly in the server for the past few months. After conducting a quick investigation, it appears that the operations director, Ms. Chapman, has been secretly using the server to run her website just to accept private gigs and make quick bucks on the side." After the boss, Martin Miller, listens to Jake's report, his expression becomes stormy. "Ms. Chapman's actions have greatly infringed on the company's interests! In fact, the risks of her leaking the company's core secrets are extremely high! I suggest that we call the police on her!" Jake continued. As I look at how hostile Jake and Martin are acting, all I feel is bitter disappointment. Back when the company has first started out, it doesn't have the funds to afford a high-specs server. I'm the one who has carried my million-dollar workstation to the company and constructed a server there. Heck, I'm the one who has been paying the power bills for the server the whole time. To think that this company will backstab me in the end… Fine. Since everyone treats me like an enemy, I might as well give them a taste of the consequences for offending 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.

As I was packing for our honeymoon, my husband changed our destination yet again. This time, he wanted to go to Bali, the place my younger sister had been longing to visit. I stopped packing and looked up, only to catch the silent exchange between him and our son. "If Mom has a problem with it, we can just take a vote," Byron Pena suggested. For years, whenever Charlotte Lefebvre and I disagreed, they had settled the matter with a vote, claiming it was the fairest way to keep the peace. When I wanted a fancy dinner for my birthday, they voted for Charlotte's choice of a light salad, agreeing that it was healthier. And when I was struggling mentally and wanted to see a doctor, they voted for Charlotte again, accepting her claim that I was simply too stressed. Now, once again, the result was the same. Two to one. I lost. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I protested, "Lake Tahoe is where we fell in love." But Pierre Pena didn't even look up from his phone as he booked a group trip to Bali. "They both have water, don't they? What's the difference?" Before I could argue further, he finalized the purchase. "They only had packages for three, so you'll have to book your own ticket." Just like that, he'd grouped himself, Byron, and Charlotte together, leaving me out entirely. Rather than argue with him again, I slipped off my wedding ring and booked a one-way ticket to Lake Tahoe. If there was somewhere I truly wanted to go, I could get there on my own.

I come home for the holidays to find four pairs of slippers beside the shoe cabinet. There's a pair for my dad, Dean Pratt, a pair for my mom, Nancy Kerr, and two pairs for my sister, Luna Pratt, including a spare. Mine isn't there. Although my sister attended school in another state, kept her room exactly as it was. Even her slippers sit by her bedside, waiting for her return. I had been away from home for three years. When I returned, I discovered that my belongings had disappeared one by one. And now, they hadn’t even kept a pair of slippers for me. I stand in the entryway, my feet bare. "Where’s my pair?" Mom pokes her head out. "You hardly ever come back, so I threw them away. They were taking up space." But the soles of my sister’s spare pair had already been worn smooth, and they were still neatly sitting in their original place. The next day, I buy a new pair for myself at the supermarket and put them beside the shoe cabinet. That night, I check the shoe cabinet and find them gone. Dad is watching TV on the couch. "Luna's classmate came over, so I gave them to her." "I just bought them." Dad doesn't even turn around. "It's just a pair of slippers. Get another one." Luna pauses. "Huh? I thought Mom had bought them for guests." It makes sense. Guest slippers were supposed to be thrown away once the guest had left.

I was the 99th High Priestess to serve the Temple of Aubin. Through a potent, forbidden ritual known as Soulforging, I could rewrite a person's fate in exchange for a fragment of my life and soul. In the first year we were together, I used Soulforging to save Emile Albrecht from certain death after an arrow pierced his heart. The ritual's toll bleached my hair white. In our third year together, I used Soulforging again to save him from the executioner's blade. He was named heir apparent. In return, I lost my sight. In our sixth year together, Emile brought the woman who had once saved his life by shielding him from that arrow years before. He ordered me to perform another Soulforging ritual to save her. I shook my head and told him I could not perform it again. My soul had almost been exhausted. One more ritual would erase me completely. He seized my wrists and forced me closer despite my struggle. "You survived that ritual twice already! Why would saving a mortal from danger suddenly kill you? "You know what I think? I think you're just throwing a tantrum no one asked for. You're trying to be dramatic about it costing your 'soul!'" I performed the ritual, suppressing the blood that threatened to spill from my throat, and saw it through to the end. The next day, Emile petitioned the king to name me his future queen. As my hands slowly turned transparent, I felt my way out of the palace. I would never be your queen, Emile. Seven days from now, Undine of Cracht would cease to exist.

During the Thanksgiving holiday week, my husband, Caleb Whitman, keeps working overtime. I feel sorry for how hard he's working, so I take over all the household chores. While doing the laundry, I pull a food delivery receipt from the pocket of his coat. Everything on the order appears to be intended for a pregnant woman. It has bone broth, baked salmon, and fresh seasonal vegetables. It's obvious that everything was chosen with care. There's even a note that says, "For an expectant mother. Keep it low in oil and salt. Make sure the utensils are sterilized." The delivery was sent to a luxury apartment above Caleb's office building. I crumple the receipt, let out a cold laugh, and deliberately call him during lunch. "So, when's the baby shower for your kid? Don't forget to send me an invite."

It took Matteo De Luca ten years to rise from soldier to Don. I fought through all ten beside him. The year we hit rock bottom, I cast aside every shred of pride and knelt before my father, the man who had betrayed my family, just to borrow twenty rounds. Matteo looked at me, his eyes full of pain. I asked only one thing. "The day you become Don, will you let me stand beside you?" He promised me he would. After he finally took his place as Don, I reminded him of that promise. He kept cleaning his gun without looking up. "Things are tense right now. We'll talk about it later." So I never asked again. Then I stumbled across a video on a dark-web forum: Matteo being crowned Don at Manhattan's Round Table Hall. He'd said he was going to Chicago to handle trouble. Instead, he was standing under the lights with my half sister, Isabella Volkov, at his side. Isabella slid the Don's ring, the symbol of his power, onto his finger. Matteo pulled her into an ecstatic embrace. "Thank you for being here at the start of my reign. I'm so happy." Isabella rose on her toes and kissed the side of his neck. "So am I." I shut off the video, wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes, and returned to cleaning my guns as if it were any other night. When I finished, I texted Matteo, "I want twenty rounds." He did not ask why. He had a whole case delivered. I counted out twenty and texted back two words, "Too many." I had those twenty rounds returned to my father, settling a ten-year-old debt. Ten years ago, I traded my pride and dignity for twenty rounds. Ten years later, Matteo used twenty rounds to break his promise to me. There was no place for me at his coronation banquet. And he had no place left in my Brooklyn underworld.

My daughter, Annabelle Turner, was diagnosed with hereditary heart disease. I spent the past five years searching for a compatible heart donor for her. Now, I finally found one. Right before Annabelle is sent into the surgery room, my husband and renowned cardiologist, Gabriel Turner, tearfully makes me a promise. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll make sure Annabelle gets a shot at life again." Yet halfway through the surgery, Gabriel suddenly leaves in a hurry without giving any explanation. I stumble into the surgery room and see Annabelle lying on the operating table, covered in blood. Her chest is cut wide open, laid bare for all to see. Tyler Rotwell, Gabriel's assistant, stammers out, "Dr. Turner said… that Anna can still hold on a little longer, but Ms. Byron's son can't. "Dr. Turner took the heart that was meant for Anna and left…" I immediately break down and repeatedly call Gabriel's number, but Gabriel never answers a single call, not even when Anna's blood has completely dried… While settling my daughter's post-mortem affairs, I happen to see a newly posted update on Gabriel's childhood friend, Suzanne Byron's social media. "Turns out it was just a misdiagnosis," was what the caption read. "In that case, let's give this useless little thing to our good boy Oscar as a treat!" The video attached depicts Suzanne's dog Oscar tearing into the heart that was supposed to be donated to Annabelle. As I turn to look at Annabelle's cold body, the last shred of love I have for Gabriel starts crumbling apart. By the time Gabriel finally remembers Annabelle, whom he left on the operating table, only an empty bedroom and an urn containing her ashes would greet him…

The ninth time I walked in on Andy Lowe in bed with another woman. I didn’t lose control, and I didn’t question him. I casually tossed a piece of clothing at the girl and said calmly, “Leave through the back garden door.” She froze for a moment, glanced at me nervously, then grabbed the clothes and fled. Andy leaned back against the headboard, looking relaxed, and slowly lit a cigarette. “It’s her first time here,” he said as if it were only natural. “Don’t scare her.” “She’s very innocent, unlike you. I don’t want her getting hurt.” He paused, then added, “It’s her birthday today. I won’t be coming back tonight.” I nodded and said nothing more. As I turned around, I smiled. He seemed not to know that the “innocent” girl had AIDS.

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."

I attend Don Vittorio Moretti's celebration banquet in a white evening gown that once belonged to his late wife. But his seven-year-old daughter, Sofia Moretti, shoves me into the sea. As I plunge into the water, my ankle gets slashed by a jagged iron piling. The scent of blood instantly draws a frenzy of sharks. Above me, Sofia stands on the dock, clapping and laughing. The cruelty in her eyes is identical to the way Vittorio looks at me. Sofia points at me and screams, "Do you really think wearing my Mamma's dress makes you worthy of becoming the Donna of the Moretti family? "You're nothing but my Papa's mistress. If I tell him to throw you out, he'll do it." I thrash against the freezing waves, and with every kick, every bone in my body howls in pain. By the time they pull me ashore, I'm shivering beneath a shawl. I look at Sofia, waiting for an explanation. Instead, she simply lifts her chin and spits in my face. Whatever remained of my hope for the little girl I'd raised for seven years vanishes in that instant. "You don't have to wait for your Padre to throw me out. I'll leave on my own tomorrow."

When I heard my younger brother was bringing his girlfriend home, I took annual leave, bought gifts, and flew back for the occasion. The moment I arrived, I found my luggage dumped carelessly outside the front door. My parents looked surprised to see me, but quickly recovered. "Ryan's girlfriend only wants to marry an only child, so we've been telling people Ryan has no siblings. You need to stay somewhere else for now and introduce yourself as a distant cousin from now on. "Don't blame us. Everything in this family will belong to your brother eventually. A daughter leaves when she marries." As they spoke, Ryan tossed the last of my belongings outside as though they were trash. "Finally. All that junk was an eyesore." My fingers slowly tightened around my purse, which still held the heavy gold bracelet I had bought as a welcome gift. Fine. Since I was only a distant cousin, they could stop living in my house. I turned around and pulled out my phone. "Hello. I'd like to sell the house in Maple Gardens. List it twenty thousand below market."

After seven brutal years grinding away at a major tech company, I finally bought a luxury condo in the city. Then I rushed into marriage with my younger boyfriend of three years. That night, with the mood just right, he said he was going to the storage room to grab a few toys to spice things up. Blushing, I hid under the covers and waited. I waited for the rest of my life. He disappeared. The storage room held nothing but a pile of flattened cardboard boxes. I searched for him like a madwoman. Then my best friend looked at me in horror and said, “Sweetie... are you so desperate for a man that you’ve lost it? You’ve always been single. What husband?” I didn’t believe her. I pulled out our marriage certificate. It was a blank sheet of paper. I opened the photos on my phone. Every picture of us had turned into solo selfies of me. Everyone said I’d gone insane from wanting a man so badly, and they locked me up in a psychiatric hospital. The last time I tried to escape, I fell from the fifth floor and cracked my skull open. After the blinding pain, I gasped and came back to life— Right at the moment he was about to go get the toys.

The wolfsbane had reached my bones, and I decided to stop treatment. Once, Ethan Anderson, the pack's Alpha, was the only light in my life. He promised we would travel the continent together, chasing the northern lights across frozen plains and exploring ancient ruins. But while I lay dying from wolfsbane poisoning, he took Murphy Blake, my best friend and the person I trusted most, to every place I had dreamed of seeing. My dreams became the story of how they fell in love. I was ready to let go. I wanted only to see the final place on my list. Then the antidote shattered, my ticket was soaked in blood, and Ethan abandoned me alone in the frozen wilderness. My life entered its final countdown. And there, at the edge of death, I discovered a secret that would change the fate of every werewolf. Ten years later, when the wolfsbane curse that had plagued werewolves for a thousand years was finally broken and everyone called me their savior, Ethan finally understood: He hadn't merely lost a mate who loved him. He had lost the one person who once would have spent her last breath waiting for him to turn back. But by then, I no longer needed his love.