Plot Twists Short Stories & CEO Marriage Novels

The tenth time one of my paintings appeared under my sister Rose's name, I handed Adrian the divorce papers. He raised an eyebrow and tossed the agreement aside without a second glance. "Don't be dramatic. Your hand is ruined -- where would you even go without me?" I said nothing. He smiled, his tone dripping with casual indifference. "You should be grateful. Rose was the one I was supposed to marry. A few paintings is a small price to pay. A little gratitude wouldn't kill you." He blew a ring of cigarette smoke directly into my face. I choked, and the sting brought tears to my eyes. Through the blur, I was transported back to the moment my tendons were severed for his sake -- a pain that had drilled straight to the bone. He thought I had no choice but to take it. What he didn't know was that I'd already accepted an offer from the Royal Academy of Arts in London. Soon, I would be free of him for good.

My mom has always been biased toward my younger sister, Nina Henderson. But before she passes away, she leaves the only house she owns to me. Meanwhile, Nina, who has always been the apple of my mom's eye, obtains nothing but a jewelry box. Just as I'm about to feel touched, I see comments springing in front of my eyes. "The truth is, their mom owes someone a huge sum of money. She left Leah her house because she wants Leah to take over the debt. In the end, Leah is forced to jump off a building by the debt collector. What a poor woman." "Nina, on the other hand, is able to marry the richest man's son thanks to the photo hidden inside the jewelry box. She gets to enjoy a lavish and comfortable life." "It's such a shame that Nina begins cursing at her mother the moment she hears the will being uttered. Because of that, her mother dies of anger before she can tell Nina the whole truth." I'm left feeling dumbstruck. That night, I dig up the jewelry box that Nina has thrown away. Then, I'm able to track down the richest man's villa.

I transmigrate into a melodramatic angst novel. My CEO wife, Victoria Gibson, hangs me up and beats me brutally to force me to agree to a divorce. But when I see the two-billion-dollar breakup fee, my eyes light up again and again. With both my hands injured, I quickly grab a pen with my foot and sign the divorce agreement. I say with a grin, "Thanks for the money. I wish you two a long and happy marriage. May you have many children."

The day before my wedding, I secretly go to the hospital to terminate my pregnancy with Richard Johnson's baby. In the hallway, I run into a doctor I know. She looks at me in surprise. "Ms. Xander? Just last week, you were worried that your belly would show through your wedding dress. Why did you suddenly decide not to keep the baby? "Didn't Mr. Johnson come with you?" I lower my head and gently touch my slightly rounded belly, my heart aching with emptiness. "He's very busy. "He's downstairs, accompanying his young stepmother to her prenatal checkup."

I was the kind of girl everyone called hopelessly lovestruck. That day was no different from any other. I clung to my boyfriend’s arm, leaned in close, and shamelessly asked for a kiss like I always did. However, right before my lips touched his, a line of glowing comments drifted across my vision. They floated in the air like a livestream chat. [Can this side character wake up already? Can she not see the male lead avoided her the entire time? He hated clingy relationships like this.] [The kind of person who really suits him is the female lead. Someone gentle, patient, and understanding.] [Once the real female lead shows up, this annoying clingy girlfriend is definitely getting dumped.] My body froze. I slowly loosened my arms from around his neck. In the next second, he suddenly looked up at me. “Why’d you stop?”

When a kidnapper forces my husband, Liam Waltz, to choose between saving me and our son, he sacrifices me without a second thought. I'm pushed off the cliff, but somehow, I survive. Still, I have lost all my memories. Liam looks absolutely devastated in front of the media. He holds a public funeral for me, only to marry a woman who looks exactly like me a year later—Clara Brown. Four years pass before my memories return. I return to Ardenix, hoping to see my son, Lucas, only to find that he now sees Clara as his mother. And Liam? After four years of thinking I was dead, he only cares about protecting her. "You were gone for four years. I thought you were dead. You didn't think I'd be widowed forever, did you? I'm now the CEO of a publicly traded company. "I can allow you to stay home, but you can't ever show your face in public. After all, Clara is now my legal wife." Instead of heartbreak, all I feel is relief. During those four years of amnesia, I married the one and only heir of Hurrix Corporation.

In order to protect me, Don Salvatore deliberately announces that my fiance, Simone Pozzi, is his long-lost son. Simone shakes with excitement when he sees the man in a bespoke suit stepping out of the Rolls-Royce that is parked outside my house. Just as I'm about to tell him it's all a lie, he shoves me aside. He even brushes his sleeves in disgust, as if he has touched something filthy. Simone says, "Stay away from me. Don't let your poverty rub off on me! Since I'm the Don's son, we'll call off our engagement. An illegitimate bastard like you isn't even fit to wipe my shoes!" When I try to explain, he cuts me off by writing out a check and flinging it hard into my face. The sharp edge of the paper slices across my cheek. "Take this one million dollars as our breakup fee and don't bother me again. We're no longer from the same world," Simone says. I watch the check flutter down into the mud and quietly turn off my phone screen. On the screen is a message Papa—Don Salvatore—has just sent me, "Just bear with it a little longer, Principessa. Papa will bring you home soon to take over the famiglia." Simone is so determined to cut himself off completely. He might have the luck to claim a fortune that big, but not the life to enjoy it.

Lately, my world seemed to have taken a strange turn. I was clearly just an ordinary-looking girl. Yet everyone said I was so beautiful they could not take their eyes off me. I was even scouted by a talent agent, debuted as the lead, and became a national sweetheart. I went out to buy a lottery ticket. Out of the blue, I won thirty million dollars. I had money, power, and status. All the things I never dared to dream of before were within easy reach. However, I noticed something strange. My friends were forgetting me day by day.

After five years of washing dishes overseas, I finally paid off every debt my husband owed and brought my child home, ready to surprise him. But when we reached the rental apartment, it was dusty and locked. A passing neighbor looked stunned. "Didn't you and Mr. Guilfoyle break up? Why are you back?" I went straight to my husband's office, only to be stopped by the receptionist. "Looking for Mr. Guilfoyle? He isn't at the office today. He's at his baby's one-month celebration." My phone lit up with a news alert. "Guilfoyle Group president Adrian Guilfoyle spends millions on lavish one-month celebration; couple appears deeply in love." At the same time, a voice message from Adrian came in. "Honey, I found a few baby clothes online for our son. They were only a few dollars. Remember to pick up the package." In the background, a woman laughed softly and teased him. "The bet's over. How much longer are you going to keep using that fake marriage license to fool Maya Liddell? Aren't you tired of pretending to be poor after all these years?" So I was the only one who had ever been truly poor. After going in circles for years, I had somehow become the real other woman.

News of a wedding in Nordica's top power family lit up the world. But at the rehearsal, I caught my fiancée, Ivette Bianchi, making out with her childhood sweetheart, Jerick Weiner. "Babe, we've been in love forever. Let me use your first-time blood as pigment for my art?" Ivette blushed, hesitated— Jerick didn't wait. He pinned her to the wall and kissed her. "My best piece needs that color," he whispered. "I want this painting to end our youth." I watched them twisted together, ice-cold. Dropped the ring. It clattered across the floor. "Go through with the ceremony," I said. "Or your family goes broke." She stiffened, shoved Jerick off, and spat, "Fine." Then she turned right back, grabbed his hand, and dragged him inside. "It's just a bachelorette party. I won't miss the rehearsal." The door slammed. I didn't react. I was done. I made the call. "Change the bride. And yeah—the Bianchis crossed the line first. I want them erased."

There were eight daughters-in-law in the Reynolds family, and I was the one everyone considered the most hopeless. While my sisters-in-law were making waves in business and landing on Forbes lists, I was busy shopping till I dropped. They talked about mergers, acquisitions, and corporate restructuring. I only cared about limited-edition Hermès bags and exotic-skin handbags. As far as they were concerned, I was the brainless gold digger their youngest brother had somehow been stupid enough to marry. I did not care. My husband's black card was mine to use, and all I had to do was look pretty and enjoy the good life. That all changed when Reynolds Group came under a coordinated attack from a group of international business giants, pushing the company to the brink of collapse. The attack came hard and fast. The rivals used three overseas gold mines as collateral, nearly draining Reynolds Group of its last reserves of cash. The entire family was thrown into chaos. Overnight, my father-in-law seemed to age ten years. My highly accomplished sisters-in-law called in every favor and used every connection they had, yet they still could not uncover the truth about who was really behind the attack. Then, as if he owned the place, our enemy sat arrogantly in the seat of honor in our living room and demanded that my father-in-law hand over his chairman's seal. I came downstairs carrying a cup of pour-over coffee and frowned. "Who let this nouveau riche slob in? He's getting my sofa dirty." My eldest sister-in-law immediately pulled me behind her and snapped, "Get back to your room. Now!" My husband instinctively covered my eyes and tried to pull me away. In that critical moment, the entire family seemed to silently agree on one thing—they had to protect me. Reluctantly, I turned to leave. Then I happened to catch sight of the Patek Philippe on our enemy's wrist. Wait. A billionaire who supposedly owned three gold mines was wearing a Patek Philippe with crooked hour markers?

Everyone warned me never to fall for Dante Moretti. They said he was the ghost of the Velasco family—an underboss who ordered hits without blinking, his heart colder than the barrel of his gun. But when he bent me over that mahogany desk, his mouth against my ear commanding me to say his name, I was stupid enough to think that was possession. It took me an entire year to see the truth. The photographs locked in his study drawer were never of me. The woman in white waiting for him in the cathedral district on Sunday mornings was never me. The girl who took a bullet for him, the one he called his "salvation"—her name is Elena Abate. And Elena happens to be my stepmother's daughter. My father is trying to sell me to a half-dead Agosti heir for five hundred million to save the family. My stepmother is scheming to erase me from existence entirely. And the man I thought would burn this city to the ground for me? On the day I needed him most, he was lifting Elena up a flight of stairs, cradling her like something sacred. They all thought I was just a pawn to be moved around their chessboard. They were wrong. If Dante can't let go of his precious white moonlight, his "salvation," then I'll become someone else's "widow." If Elena believes she's already won this game, I'll let her watch from the front row as a woman with nothing left to lose burns it all down. My name is Serafina. Remember it. Because I am about to become the reckoning none of them saw coming.

I was Victor Costa's sickly wife. He was the CEO of the Costa Group and had married me despite his family's objections. On the opening day of the Costa Foundation's centennial charity week, I passed out from low blood sugar on the livestream. My husband, Victor, was in Europe for meetings, and his sister, Isabella Costa, was sure I was faking again. But after Dr. Rossi examined me, he frowned and asked her, "She's been malnourished for a long time, and her prescription hasn't been refilled in at least three months. Doesn't anyone feed her?" The livestream comments exploded with laughter. [Mrs. Costa, malnourished? I'd sooner believe the Costa Group had gone bankrupt.] Everyone knew Victor set aside two million dollars a month for my care and had hired a private doctor and nutritionist just for me. Isabella thought I was overdoing it, too. That is, until she searched my bag and found half a pack of glucose tablets I'd been rationing, a prepaid card with only seven dollars left, and three declined-payment slips from the pharmacy. I said quietly, "Victor told me I only get $200 a month to live on. "My medicine is too expensive. If I stop taking it for a while, I won't die right away." Isabella called her brother on the spot. "You only give your wife $200 a month?" Victor's voice turned cold. "What do you mean, $200? "I sign off on two million dollars for her every month, and I've never pulled her medical team!"

We had been married for three years, yet my husband, Richard Thornton, who suffered from touch deprivation syndrome, still refused to consummate our marriage. Every time his condition flared up, he would only press his forehead tightly against the curve of my neck. I assumed he was saving himself for his first love, the woman who had left years ago. Then, I overheard him talking to his friends. "Stop teasing her next time. It makes her tense up every time." "Got it, Richard. But if you care about Valeria so much, why won't you touch her? It's been three years. Aren't you worried she'll leave you for someone else?" Richard shook his head. "You don't understand. The longer we're together, the harder it is to control myself around her. She's so delicate. I'm terrified I'll hurt her. As long as she's mine, I wouldn't care even if she slept with someone else first." His friends burst out laughing. "Richard, you're all talk. If you could really handle her being with another man, you wouldn't keep running to the hospital. You think we don't know what you're up to?" The next day, I found Richard's medical records. Visit after visit, he kept asking the same question, "How can I be gentler in bed? I don't want to hurt the woman I love."

"I know you're an ace divorce attorney. Please help me!" A young woman who's holding a child suddenly barges into the law firm and gets down on her knees in front of me. I'm about to help her up to her feet when a few live comments appear in front of my eyes. "This really is a doomed story. I can't believe the FMC has to go through all sorts of torment before dying." "Once she gets caught, both she and her child will be dead. The MMC can only spend the rest of his life in eternal remorse." "The FMC is pretty naive, isn't she? She thinks finding herself an attorney can help her secure a divorce. The MMC is the richest man in Opalford at the end of the day, so there's no way she can file for a divorce successfully." When I spot the next comment, its contents sting my eyes immediately. "Unfortunately, this attorney is a throwaway character too. Not only does she refuse to help FMC, but she also fails to recognize her as her older sister, who has gone missing for many years."

I am the wife of the capital city’s esteemed tycoon. We were married in secret for three years. At the celebratory banquet, I was about to make our relationship public. However, his first love, Juvelia Shaw, stumbled into the hall clutching her torn collar. “Edwin, save me! Peri Sanders brought along her penniless brother. He just forced a kiss on me in the lounge! “He says he’s your brother-in-law. If I want to get into the Gough family, I have to please him.... Argh! I have been defiled!” The room fell deathly silent before erupting into a chorus of finger-pointing and curses. They accused me of forcing my brother to assault the esteemed tycoon’s woman just to secure his favor. Edwin Gough’s eyes blazed crimson. He ripped off his coat and wrapped it tightly around Juvelia. Then, he flung a glass of red wine at my face. Gritting his teeth, he glared at me. “Peri, bring out that beast of a brother of yours!” “Since his mouth is so vile, let’s pull out his teeth and cut his tongue off to feed the dogs! Otherwise, I’ll make the entire Sanders family pay with their lives!” Amidst the crowd’s looks of contempt and disgust, I burst into laughter. My brother had long since lost his voice. Three years ago, in a fire, he had inhaled excessive smoke while saving Edwin, which had destroyed his vocal cords. His tongue was gone too.

After transmigrating into a CEO novel as the devoted female foil, I decided to give up on the powerful CEO, but Julian Sterling flew across the globe overnight and dragged me back to get engaged. The usually gentle, refined man gripped my waist, a terrifying madness burning in his eyes. "Georgia, you belong by my side. Forever," he declared.

The night before I was due to marry my wealthy fiancé at the courthouse, my best friend, who studied criminal psychology, asked me a strange question. "Molly, your future mother-in-law never had children. So whose son is your fiancé?" Perhaps she thought I wouldn’t believe her. She showed me footage from twenty years ago, when my future mother-in-law spoke firmly to the press. "Even if this family line ends, I will never have a child or adopt one." I stared at her. My fiancé was already four years old twenty years ago. If he wasn’t her son, could he be my future father-in-law’s child from an affair? Then my friend slapped a medical report on the table. It showed my future father-in-law was infertile. "I checked. Your fiancé wasn’t adopted, and he isn’t the child of a relative or family friend. Something’s wrong with that family. Think carefully before you marry him." My friend had barely finished speaking when a message from my fiancé appeared. [Honey, I know we’re getting married tomorrow, but I still can’t settle down. Can I pick you up? Will you stay with me tonight?]

By the time I hit twenty without a husband, I'd become the joke of Butcher's Alley. I wasn't about to just take it, so I marched out to the pauper's graveyard and dragged home a half-dead man I found there. He was gorgeous. More handsome than any portrait I'd ever seen. It didn't matter that he'd lost his memory and wasn't quite right in the head. It didn't matter that he couldn't lift a crate or carry a load, that he nearly fainted dead away the first time he watched me slaughter a pig. I slapped my knee and made up my mind. "You're the one. You handle looking pretty, and I'll handle bringing home the bacon." I named him Walt and treated him like he was made of glass. I fed him well, kept him comfortable, and slowly nursed him back to health until his cheeks were full and his skin was soft. Then I started planning the wedding. On our wedding night, I'd just gotten his wedding coat off when the front door flew off its hinges. Hundreds of royal guards dropped to their knees all at once, their voices shaking the walls. "Welcome back to the capital, Grand Chancellor!" I looked down at the man beneath me. The warmth in his eyes was gone, replaced by something cold and sharp. The belt I'd been holding snapped right in two. I was done for. I'd been bossing around the most powerful man in the empire for six months and using him as a house husband. Was I looking at death by slow torture, or would they wipe out my entire family?

Everyone knew I was the man the richest woman in Tova City adored most. She spoiled me constantly, giving me everything I wanted and following my every lead. One day, after waking up from a nap, I found myself tied up at an auction house. On the stage sat my wife, surrounded by her group of friends. One of them laughed and asked, "Sora, how did you find time to bring Damien out today? Everyone says you're so obsessed with your husband Cleo now that you don't have time for Damien anymore." Sora looked at the man next to her before expressing wryly, "Cleo hasn't been feeling well lately, so I've been home taking care of him. Damien's been throwing a fit about it, so I figured I'd make time to bring him out today." I squirmed desperately, trying to get Sora's attention so she would help me. She finally noticed me, but all she did was slowly raise her bidding sign. "Number nine won't stop squirming. He looks like a real handful. One million dollars! I'm picking him."