Cerita Pendek & Novel Familial Bond Face Slapping

When Mom gave birth to my baby sister, Jocelyn Hanson, she'd reserved an entire floor of the hospital. The next day, a young, handsome nurse named Mike Sutton kept watching her. He told Mom she needed to rest and insisted on taking Jocelyn next door to feed her. Back then, I didn't know any better, and Mom saw no reason to be suspicious. So she let him take Jocelyn. That same day, Mike vanished with Jocelyn. We never saw either of them again. Mom never forgave herself. She sank into a deep depression and eventually took her own life. Dad couldn't handle what had happened. He left me with Grandma, then took his own life too. Just like that, I lost everyone. I shut myself off from the world, and less than two years later, I fell from a balcony because my nanny wasn't watching me. None of us escaped a tragic end. 18 years later, Mike resurfaced as Jocelyn's adoptive father. He brought her back to the Hanson family, and everything my family had left behind ended up in their hands. Even on his deathbed, he still bragged to anyone who would listen, "I sure didn't raise her for nothing." Then I get a second chance. I'm three years old again, back on the day after Jocelyn was born. Mike pushes open the door and comes in. "Ms. Hanson, it's time to feed the baby. Why don't I take her next door so you can get some rest? Kiddo, how about I take your little sister next door so she can have some milk?" His warm smile makes me shudder. All at once, I remember the pain of losing Mom and Dad in my previous life. I gather my courage and shout, "No! My mom can feed her. We don't need you!"

On the day I rejected Isabelle Hale, Wall Street's newest golden girl, everyone thought I had lost my mind. She had everything: a Wharton degree, a national finance championship, a perfect family name, and a résumé polished enough to make doors open before she even knocked. But I knew what was hiding behind that name. Fifty years ago, her grandfather stole my grandmother's acceptance letter, her New York scholarship, and the future she had earned with her own hands. He used them to escape an Appalachian coal town with another woman, then built himself into a celebrated Ivy League professor who lectured rich students about ethics. My real grandmother, Grace Walker, was left behind in coal dust and shame. My mother grew up carrying the weight of that stolen life. They lifted me out anyway. I made it all the way to Manhattan, to a glass conference room at Northbridge Capital, where Isabelle sat across from me in a black suit tailored like victory. She thought her family name would protect her. She thought I would bow. Instead, I closed her file and said, "You didn't pass." By the next morning, they had fired me, dragged my name through the mud, and turned a press conference into my public trial. They forgot one thing. I didn't climb to the top of Wall Street to beg for a seat at their table. I came to take back every name, every chance, and every voice they stole from women like us.

I’m the long-lost true daughter of the Alpha and Luna of the Silver Moon Pack, but five years ago, my own parents had me thrown in prison. All because their adopted daughter, Grace, lied and said she saw me meeting secretly with a wolf from a rival pack. They ignored my pleas and branded me a traitor. Five years later, at a pack gathering, I ran into my parents and Grace again. They were dressed to the nines, dripping in jewels, while I was in casual clothes, without even a necklace. A flicker of pity crossed my parents' eyes. "Amelia, come back to us. We can find a stable job for you in the pack. It would be better than the hard life you're living now." Grace chimed in with fake kindness, "Yes, sister. Our estate needs a gardener." I refused. My mother frowned. "Are you still holding a grudge? What we did was for the good of the pack. We weren't favoring Grace..." I laughed. "You're reading too much into it. It's nothing." They don't know that after I left them, I didn't just survive. I built my own pack. That I've become the most mysterious and legendary female Alpha in North America.

Mom was a world-class micro-expression expert. She always said no lie got past her. To replay every emotional moment of Maya and me, she packed our house with HD security cameras. When Maya scraped her knee and burst into tears, Mom called it real pain. But when stomach cramps twisted my face, she pointed at the monitor and picked me apart. "The mouth twitch. The darting eyes. Classic attention-seeking." That day, I'd accidentally eaten something I was deadly allergic to. My throat swelled shut. I could barely breathe. Panicking, I clawed at my neck and crawled to her feet, begging for help. Mom adjusted her glasses, flipped open her notebook, and calmly wrote everything down. "Rapid breathing. Bluish skin. Sophie Schneider, your acting's gotten better again. Too bad your micro-expressions gave you away." To punish me for lying to her, she shut off the house's panic button, locked the front door, and took Maya to a concert. "If you love putting on a show so much, keep performing for the cameras. We'll see how long it takes before you admit you were wrong." I curled up on the cold tile, shaking in pain, and looked at the camera's blinking red light. My vision faded. Mom, you spent your whole life reading people. But you never understood your own daughter.

After I set up the camera, I realized the clients booked for a family portrait were the parents and older brother I'd run from five years earlier. The moment our eyes met, my mother's smile froze. Her eyes went red, and she asked uncertainly, "Remy... is that you?" "You're alive?" With one finger resting on the shutter, I reminded them, "Keep smiling. Look at the camera." My father shot to his feet. "Are you really this spiteful? Five years of hiding from us. What grievance in a family takes five years to get over?" I looked at the dog beside my brother, also named Remy, and couldn't understand what he was angry about. They were the ones who'd spent my whole childhood telling me I existed for one reason: to be marrow for my brother. Even the dog got to be in the family portrait I wasn't allowed in as a child. I gave up on that family a long time ago.

This was the hundredth time Mom caught Dad throwing thousands of dollars at social media influencers. She didn't scream or make a scene for the entire construction crew to laugh at anymore, nor did she pause her work. Dad thought she had finally learned her place and grown sensible. The very next month, he invited every single worker on the job site to attend his wedding. However, he kept Mom and me out of it. When the workers returned, they were all gossiping about how Mom, the worn-out house-cat, had been replaced by a beauty. The bride was a meticulously dolled-up young woman. I had seen her on his phone many times. Every time, she would be wearing next to nothing, dancing on camera while calling my dad her "Big Spender", right before Dad transferred amounts of money to her with many zeros at the end. Mom looked calmly at them. Unfastening her apron, she thrust the spatula into the woman's hands. "The workers' massive daily meals will be on you from now on." Dad's expression hardened instantly, and he slapped Mom's hand away. "Are you out of your mind?! There are over a hundred people on this site. How could you possibly make Abigail cook for them? It would wear her out! She married me to live in luxury!" "And living in a shack on a construction site isn't too much for our daughter?" The young woman stepped forward to play the peacemaker. "Oh, I heard you and my husband started working on construction sites together ten years ago. The kid must be totally used to it by now. "You can just stay on as the housekeeper. I won't kick you guys out." As if granting charity, Dad commanded Mom, "Hurry up and thank Abigail for her generosity. She's the new matriarch around here. We're all one family now." Mom didn't say another word, simply closing the drafty corrugated tin door. "Bailey, I saved up a bit of money. How about I take you somewhere else to go to school?"

My older sister, Holly Keller, is studying in the public library for her SATs when a stray bullet hits her. Blood pours from the wound. Instead of stopping, I quicken my pace, walking right past her and acting like I haven't seen a thing. It was because, in my past life, I took her to the hospital as soon as the accident happened. The gunshot to her head caused severe intracranial bleeding, and she needed surgery right away. I called our mom, who happened to be the top neurosurgeon in the city. And I begged her to get to the hospital as fast as possible. But she assumed I'm just being jealous because she had taken my adopted brother on a trip instead of spending time with me. Assuming that I was making the whole thing up to ruin their trip, she flat-out refused to come back. By the time Dad and the rest of the family arrived at the hospital, Holly was already gone despite the doctors' best efforts. The entire family blamed me for Holly's death. They believed I had deliberately misled Mom just to screw up Holly's chances of getting treated in time. When Mom finally rushed back from out of town, she completely lost it. She shoved me down the stairs and watched as I bleed to death. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the day Holly is shot in the library.

My sister, Winona Clarke, was stabbed to death by a thug in order to save me. My mom, Amber Green, does not want my nephew, Sonny Cohen, to suffer. So, she suggests that I marry my brother-in-law, Kenneth Cohen, and take care of the father and son. For Sonny's safety, I end up on the verge of death due to Kenneth's relentless and merciless torture. Just then, Winona, who should have been dead, returns! Her arm linked with a millionaire's, she boasts to me, "Thank you for putting up with that maniac and sticking around until he died. Not only did you help me raise Sonny, who has Super Male Syndrome, but you even made it possible for me to inherit all of Kenneth's assets through Sonny." Sonny joins Winona in belittling me and even spreads rumors that I killed Kenneth. Because of her lies, I become notorious online and eventually die while being the subject of everyone's criticism and ridicule. The heavens must have taken mercy on me, for I am granted a second chance at life. Now, I am back to the day Mom wants me to marry Kenneth.

The year I returned to the Moretti family, everyone expected the biological daughter and the adopted daughter to fight for their place in the family. But Gianna was different. She was the first to learn sign language so she could communicate with me. She knew I hated sitting with my back to a door. She also knew I didn't want anyone asking why I still refused to speak after two years back home. That night, at a charity gala, my father was supposed to sign an agreement that would end our family's involvement in the port's illegal operations. Instead, Luca Vitale stormed in with representatives from eight families and proposed a toast to my father. He took one sip and collapsed. A second later, the ballroom screen lit up. Gianna's payment to a pharmacist and chat messages mentioning "Dad's wine" had been used to make it look like she'd bought drugs to murder our father. She really had made that payment. She handed over her phone for everyone to see, but the original messages had been deleted, and she couldn't recover them. Luca gave us ten minutes: hand over Gianna or hand over the port. All the while, Luca's doctor stood beside my father with a syringe in his hand. He refused to say where he'd gotten it. My mother told Luca, "You can have the port. You can't have either of my daughters." Gianna pulled away from her anyway and walked straight to Luca. All she asked was that he let our father go to the hospital first. As she passed me, she signed with trembling hands, "Don't tell them about your past for my sake." I stared at the syringe. I'd seen that same medical kit at the clinic in Malta. I'd also seen what happened to patients once they became bargaining chips. If Gianna was willing to go that far for me, then I was willing to risk everything for her, just this once.

I worked as a caregiver at a psychiatric hospital. One day, during a quiet shift, I came across a post from my husband's widowed sister-in-law. [Just launched my first AI-generated short drama! Hope you'll check it out and support me!] I tapped on the video attached to the post. The villain's face was identical to mine. I immediately messaged her and demanded that she take the video down. Instead, she posted our chat in the family group. Then she added: "If it really bothers you, I'll delete it. It's just a shame my first attempt at starting a business has already failed..." My husband replied almost instantly: "Don't delete it!" Then he tagged me. "So, what if you played a vicious villain? That's called making sacrifices for art." "This is the first business your sister-in-law has ever started. Stop being so dramatic." My mother-in-law chimed in as well: "Your sister-in-law is trying to build something of her own. What's wrong with supporting her?" "What do you mean she used your face without permission? We're family. Why make such a fuss over something so trivial?" "She used all of our faces, and none of us complained. What, do you think your face is worth more than everyone else's?" What they didn't know was that I was an undercover investigative journalist. So yes, my face really was worth more than theirs.

The ambulance’s siren blared as it sped toward the hospital. But an obnoxious power-walking mob blocked its path at the entrance of our residential area. As a result, the ambulance could not leave the area. I got out of the car to negotiate with that group of power-walkers. I immediately recognized that the woman who led the mob was none other than my mother-in-law, Miranda White. “Miranda, the illness of someone important to me has flared up. He’s in critical condition! “Please get these people to move and let the ambulance pass! Quick!” I was frantic with worry. But Miranda shot me a sideways glance and jumped to conclusions. “He should’ve died a long time ago! “He’s your father. What gives him the nerve to interfere in Caleb’s marital home?! If he’s sick, he deserves it!” Right after she finished her sentence, she waved her arms and called more people over. The number of people joining the power-walking mob continued to increase. They packed the road so tightly that it was completely blocked. When it became clear the ambulance could not possibly leave the area, Miranda shot me a smug glance. She picked up her phone and said in a coy voice, “Honey, what are you doing at home? Come down and join me for a power walk! Getting some exercise is what matters most for your health.” Inside the ambulance, the phone screen next to the patient lit up for a moment, then went dark again. It was not my father who had collapsed.

The day I was discharged from the hospital after giving birth, my mother-in-law, Patricia Whitmore, kept pointing at the baby in my arms and humiliating me the whole way home. "Genevieve, just look at that pathetic thing in your arms. I doubt he'll live very long." I shot back angrily, "Patricia, how could you say that? The doctor said the baby is perfectly healthy!" Patricia curled her lip into a sneer. "You're so ignorant. Here you are, yelling at me when I'm only telling you the truth out of the kindness of my heart." I didn't want to waste my energy arguing with her, so I turned away with the baby in my arms and stared out the window. It wasn't until we got home that my seven-year-old daughter told me something. She told me that she'd seen Patricia secretly switch my perfectly healthy son with the child of my husband's childhood sweetheart, Evelyn Reed. The same child who was suffering from a congenital heart defect. That was when I finally understood why Patricia had been humiliating us. She was acting that way because she thought she had already gotten what she wanted. Unfortunately, she never expected that Nina had already switched her little brother back while they weren't paying attention.

When I found out I'd won an $80,000 European vacation for two as a graduation prize, my Aunt Janice showed up at my house with my cousin, Kelsey Whitmore, who had always loved taking advantage of other people. "Elise, your dad's in poor health and can't fly. Why don't you give the trip to Kelsey and her husband? You'd probably get lost traveling on your own anyway. We won't take it for free. We'll give you a nice cash gift." Kelsey and her husband, Travis Connelly, had just gotten married and couldn't afford a honeymoon. My hands shook with absolute fury as I crumpled that meager 200 bucks in my fist. An $80,000 prize, and she expected to take all of it with a few casual words? I smiled, pushed the cash back toward her, and shook my head. "No, Aunt Janice. If my dad can't go, I can cash in the prize instead. Besides, Travis makes over $30,000 a month. Surely he can afford honeymoon tickets." Aunt Janice and Kelsey left with dark expressions. Half an hour later, Kelsey flooded the family group chat with celebration emojis. "Ticket redeemed! Thanks for the generous gift, Elise. I'll enjoy this luxury European honeymoon on your behalf." Aunt Janice tagged both my father and me. "Elise is such a thoughtful girl. She gave her European vacation to Kelsey." I was about to expose the lie when I heard my father talking on the phone in the next room. "That's right. Transfer the reservation to Kelsey. Elise and I both have a fever, so we can't go..." My heart went cold. While I was in the shower, my father had gone through my phone and stolen the redemption code. If he was willing to sacrifice his own life just to please his relatives, then I was done trying to save it.

Ever since I was born, Mom had loved making promises she never intended to keep. When my elementary school teacher said I had potential for advanced math competitions, she beamed with pride. "Caroline Fisher, you're amazing! Whatever tutoring you need, just say the word. I work hard so you can spend however you like!" However, she could not even cough up the 50-dollar class fee. Instead, she turned around and enrolled my two-year-old sister, Hailey Fisher, in premium preschool enrichment classes. I ended up eating plain meals every day, scraping together the class fee from my lunch money. When I got accepted to Vanford College, the best school in the country, Mom grabbed my hands excitedly and promised, "I knew you'd make it big! Tomorrow, we're throwing a big party to celebrate!" But the next day, she locked me in the house. Meanwhile, she rented the city's most luxurious banquet hall for Hailey, who had dropped out of middle school. She stole my acceptance letter and bragged to everyone at the party, "Hailey is so gifted, she got into Vanford College's gifted program at 13!" After her endless bragging, everyone believed that I was slow and useless, while Hailey was a prodigy. I gritted my teeth and pushed through until graduation, finally landing a job I actually wanted. Yet, after my pre-employment medical exam, Mom suddenly grabbed my hand tightly, her gaze determined. "Caroline, don't be scared! Cervical cancer has a really high survival rate! Even if it costs every penny I have, I'll be right here fighting this cancer with you!" Then, she turned the corner into the stairwell and burst out laughing with Hailey. "Finally, we can dump Caroline, that burden! She actually thinks I'd help her with treatment? I wish she'd hurry up and die!" When the doctor approached to discuss surgery details, I waved him off with a cold smile. "Cancel the surgery. Hailey's the one who's sick, and I have no obligation to worry about her!"

The seventh time my parents ask my sister, Alexandra Sterling, to blow out the candles on my birthday cake, I finally break down. Ever since Alexandra returned home after being missing for three years, I have become the most insignificant person in the family. In a fit of anger, I storm out of the restaurant and run down to the river, desperate enough to put my life on the line just to make them understand how deeply they've hurt me. Alexandra stands by the railing in an elegant dress, tears streaming down her face. "I'm sorry, Ella. I know I shouldn't have come back and taken Mom and Dad away from you." Before anyone can react, she climbs over the railing and throws herself into the river. My parents search for her for three days, but they never find her body. When they finally return home, they're exhausted and broken, and our family's financial situation begins to deteriorate soon afterward. From that day on, they devote themselves to taking care of me. But being the one who benefits from such a tragedy leaves me carrying a crushing sense of guilt. After I start college, I work as hard as I can to pay my own tuition and help support my parents, determined to ease the burden I've placed on them. I think we'll spend the rest of our lives that way—just the three of us, living an ordinary life as a family. Then, on the day I graduate from college, I come home early, hoping to surprise them. Instead, I find them outside an upscale restaurant near our house. They're dressed to the nines, and Alexandra is with them. Mom affectionately strokes her hair and says, "As for your trip to Epea, why don't you stay a few extra days and enjoy yourself? Your sister will be coming home soon, so we won't be able to go out and spend as much time with you. And if you need money, just ask us." In that moment, it feels as though the entire world tilts beneath my feet. That night, I open my email and go through the job offers I've received. After a long moment, I choose the one that will take me as far away from home as possible.

By the fifth year of my marriage to James Hill, he began pretending to be his late twin brother, the late Don of the family. With that, he took over all of a Don’s duties and the role of my sister-in-law, Hilary’s husband. Every time after he slept with her, he would cut his arm open, kneel before me, and beg for forgiveness. “Pia, you’re the only woman I’ve ever loved. Once Hilary gives birth to the heir and secures her position, I’ll fake my death and come back for you.” He told me his twin brother had died saving him, so he had to fulfill his brother’s last wish. During the year he pretended to be his brother, James slept with Hilary ninety-nine times. After a full year, Hilary finally gave birth to the family’s heir. I truly believed James would fake his death as promised, then take our son and me away from this bloody life. However, I saw him with Hilary in his arms, teasing the tiny baby she carried. “Hilary, I’ll stay with you and our child until he’s ready to take over as the next Don.” Silently, I wiped my tears and went back to my room to pack my suitcase. My son saw me crying and ran into my arms, gently wiping away my tears with his little hands. “Ma, Aunt Hilary already had her baby. Why isn’t Papa coming home yet?” I placed my clothes into the suitcase as I told him softly, “Because he doesn’t want us anymore. But don’t be sad, sweetheart. I will build us a home.” If James wanted to raise an heir, then I would return to North Atlantis’s most powerful mafia family, take my rightful place as my father’s heir, and become the Godmother of the Mafia.

I’d just stepped onto the moonstone stage at Ettelgard Academy’s annual Induction Ceremony. The screen behind me went black. The next second, a recording blasted through the hall. 【“I’m out of funds. Send me five thousand.”】 【“I need the Alpha-level combat ring tonight. Give me access.”】 【“If you don’t, I’m telling everyone your big secret. Your whole ‘untouchable Alpha’ act? It’ll be over. You’ll be ruined.”】 The crowd of a thousand elites from every major pack went silent. Then whispers erupted. That girl on the recording? The one shamelessly demanding credits? Yeah. That was me. And the guy she was "blackmailing"? Julian Valerius. The strongest pureblood wolf of our generation—the one everyone expected to become an Alpha. Scarlett, the Beta pack’s heir, stormed the stage. She pointed right at me, her voice shrill with fake righteousness. “Did you hear that? Aurora Vance isn’t some quiet bookworm. She’s a leech! A parasite who’s been blackmailing Julian for credits and privileges! A disgrace to her bloodline! She doesn’t deserve any honor from this academy!” A thousand sharp glares cut into me like daggers. On the dais, the Elders’ faces were grim. Scarlett savored my humiliation, her voice dripping with arrogance. “Aurora, Julian is too generous to stoop to your level. But you will apologize. You will beg this academy for forgiveness for being a shameless, clinging fraud!” I stared at the screen, the recording of my "blackmail" still playing. Exhausted, I pressed my fingers to my forehead. This was a total joke. Julian Valerius is my grandfather’s youngest son. My dad’s little brother. He is my literal, honest-to-God uncle. And that “big secret”? It was a threat to tell everyone how our grandmother used to chase him around the manor with a switch when he was a kid.

I'm the most obedient child in the village. Since I've failed to keep an eye on my younger brother, which has resulted in him suffering from a fall, my adoptive mother, Patricia Henson, breaks my left lower leg bone with an iron poker. "You useless bastard! Why can't you just die already? I was the one who saved your life, so you should pay me back with that life of yours!" As I look up at Patricia, I nod quietly. "Okay, Mom." Then, I turn around to grab the bottle of rat poison that's sitting on the kitchen counter. After unscrewing the cap, I begin chugging down the chemicals. Patricia is shocked out of her mind by my antics. Her screams fill the kitchen as she lunges at me just to knock the bottle out of my hands. But I've already taken a huge gulp of the poison by then. I end up getting sent to the hospital, where the doctors spend the next few days saving my life. Due to the severity of this incident, it's reported on the news, allowing my biological parents to track me down. Later on, they take me back to my actual home, which is a luxurious manor. But my older brother, Dominic Richmond, calls me filthy and wants me to cleanse myself properly. So, I grab a steel scourer and begin scrubbing my entire body with it. It doesn't take long before I'm completely drenched in my own blood. Some time later, Derek Richmond, my adopted younger brother whom everyone sings praises about, calls me disgusting with tears streaming down his cheeks. He also claims that he doesn't want to see me at all. Dominic points at the balcony while yelling at me, "Can't you just die already?" As I look at him, I just smile serenely. "Okay, Dominic." After that, I jump off the balcony. At that moment, I hear Dominic's hysterical screams.

My mom always said, "I've never played favorites. "You and your brother mean exactly the same to me." She said it so often I almost believed it. Growing up, anything my brother had, I had too. If he got a new pair of sneakers, so did I. If he signed up for coding classes, I was enrolled in the same ones. Even this year, when we came home for the holidays, my mom smiled as she handed each of us a neatly-packaged designer shopping bag. "I picked these out for you two at the store. One for each of you, exactly the same. "These outdoor brands are expensive, you know. A single jacket costs thousands. I'd never buy one for myself, but I don't mind splurging on you two." I took the jacket. It was well-cut, structured, and looked high-quality. A small warmth stirred in my chest. However, when I tried it on, the collar felt oddly irritating against my skin. Frowning, I pulled back the lining to check. There was a ring of yellowed sweat stains around the label, and tiny flakes of dandruff were caught in the Velcro. A faint musty smell lingered on the cloth, mixed with the stale odor of cheap tobacco. It was sour and impossible to ignore.

My daughter, Amelia Rossum, comes home with her palm pierced all the way through by a pencil. I drop my mop in a panic, hastily change out of my loungewear, and rush her to the ER. At the hospital entrance, my husband, Benedict Rossum, jumps out of his car and immediately lashes out at me. "How could you let this happen to her?" Our neighbor, Lorelei Bates, trails behind him, holding her daughter's hand. She addresses him gently, "Benedict, don't be so hard on Clarissa. Everyone makes mistakes." He scoffs. "Other mothers can keep their kids safe perfectly fine. What's her excuse? I bet she did this on purpose to guilt me into coming home early!" Amelia recoils and hides behind me. Seeing her reaction, Benedict crouches down and immediately softens his voice. "Don't be scared, Amelia. I'm right here. You can tell me what happened. I'll make it right." "Really?" She steals anxious glances at me. I shake my head, silently telling her not to say anything. With Lorelei standing right there, we don't stand a chance. She always finds a way to twist the truth against us. Benedict shoves me aside and picks Amelia up. "Clarissa, are you trying to scare her into keeping quiet? What kind of mother are you? What, did you stab her hand on purpose, too?" "No, it wasn't Mommy!" Amelia bursts into sobs. Benedict gently pats her back, his eyes reddening with distress. "It must hurt a lot, doesn't it, Amelia? Tell me what happened to your hand." She's sobbing so hard that she can barely catch her breath. After a long while, she finally points at Lorelei's daughter and says in between sobs, "Penelope and her friends stabbed me."