Familial Bond Face Slapping Short Stories & Novels

My stepbrother, Terence Norman, had one goal in life: finding a way around the SAT and getting guaranteed admission. To pull it off, he deliberately staged an accident on the first day of the SAT, sending the daughter of the richest family in the country over the side of a bridge. The girl nearly drowned. Terence jumped into the river pretending to be the hero, even missing the SAT because of it. Not only did I not stop him, but I even contacted the media myself and made sure the story spread everywhere. Because in my previous life, after overhearing Terence's plan, I tried to talk him out of it. I told him the Lawsons might be the richest family around, but there was no way they could change SAT policy. That, and the Lawsons hated being manipulated more than anything. Terence listened to me. When the scores came out, he ended up dead last in the school. On the surface, he acted like he had accepted his fate. During the celebration for college admissions, he stabbed me to death. His face twisted with rage as he screamed at me. "If you hadn't stopped me, I would've saved the Lawson heiress and become her hero! They would've paid to get me admitted somewhere for sure. And maybe Mr. Lawson would've seen what a good person I was and made me his son-in-law! You ruined my life!" When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the SAT. This time, I wanted to see what would happen after Terence nearly killed Kendall Lawson, the girl most likely to become the top SAT scorer.

It's Family Day at my daughter, Hannah Neel's, preschool, but my wife, Samantha Miller, says she has to work and tells both Hannah and me not to go. Seeing the disappointment on Hannah's face breaks my heart, so I bring her to school anyway. As soon as we step through the gates, I see Samantha. She's holding her childhood friend—Oscar Barnett's—hand, with a little boy clutching her other. The three of them look like a perfect family, laughing and chatting, as if they belong together. When Samantha sees us, her smile fades, and she lets go of Oscar's hand. "Zach, it's not what you think. Oscar's raising his son alone. Today's his fifth birthday, and he just wanted to give him a little taste of a mother's love," she says quickly. I study her for a moment, then kneel and gently take Hannah's hand in mine. "Sweetheart, say hello to the lady."

The day my rich parents come to claim me, all eight of my godfathers weep while sending me off. But just two days later, because I score a whole hundred points higher than the fake heiress, Sharon Staton, on a mock exam, my parents drag me to some black-market underground hospital. They want to dig out my brain and transplant it into Sharon. "With your return, Sharon is no longer the only princess in our family. Giving her your smart brain is the least you can do to make it up to her." "Relax, we'll have them put an ordinary brain in you afterward. We'll care for you for the rest of your life!" Sharon giggles and says, "I'll let you in on a little secret. I already bribed the doctor. The brain they're putting in you belongs to an idiot. You're done for." I struggle with everything I have. Then, the second I'm dragged out of the car, I can't help feeling amused. Isn't this the hospital owned by my eight godfathers? When I left home, Big Pops, a CEO, had looked at me with bloodshot eyes. He'd told me that if the Stanton family so much as laid a finger on me, he would bankrupt them without hesitation. Second Pops, a surgeon, hadn't said a word. He had just quietly wiped down his scalpel. This time, it looks like Sharon and my parents won't be walking out of here alive.

On the day the trial results come out, I find out I rank first in the entire pack and am selected to become the Alpha King's chief advisor. I grab my phone excitedly with my results displayed on the screen and head over to share the good news with my parents. But as I reach the study, I overhear their conversation from outside the door. Mom gushes, "Jada is chosen to be the Alpha King's chief advisor this time. Once she starts working, we can't skimp on her living expenses." Dad agrees, "Exactly. Jada is beautiful and loves dressing up. Clothes, shoes, and makeup alone cost a fortune. If ten thousand dollars a month isn't enough, we'll give her more." My brother, Jerome Spencer, quickly chimes in, "Janice isn't as smart as Jada, so she definitely failed the werewolf trial this time. Just let her work some menial job wherever Jada works. That way, she can help us take care of Jada." Everyone in the room murmurs their agreement. Standing outside the study and hearing every word, I grip my phone tightly as tears stream uncontrollably down my face. Just then, I receive a personal invitation message from the Alpha King. "Janice Spencer, congratulations on ranking first in the werewolf trial. I sincerely invite you to join the Werewolf Administration as my chief advisor. In three days, I will send a private helicopter to pick you up." I tighten my grip on my phone with determination filling my eyes. What my family doesn't know is that Jada's supposed results are nothing but a lie. When the truth finally comes out, I can't wait to see how she explains herself.

In our tenth year of marriage, Sean Whitmore cheated on me with Sonia Sutton. He brought his Sonia’ son and daughter to see me. He said he felt sorry for the children. They needed a father. Our daughter begged him to stay, but he refused to change his mind. I didn’t fight to keep him. I took our daughter and left, and I never remarried for fear that a stepfather might mistreat her. Years later, my daughter married a good man. My granddaughter was adorable too. I spent my days caring for her, and life was happy and peaceful. On my sixtieth birthday, my daughter and son-in-law said they were busy at work, and my granddaughter had a last-minute tutoring session. They promised to celebrate my birthday the next day. But that evening, I came across a video filmed nearby. In a luxurious private dining room at a hotel… My daughter, her husband, and their little girl stood with Sean and Sonia’ two children. All six of them gathered around the woman he left me for and sang her "Happy Birthday." My daughter even called her "Mommy Sonia."

Six years ago, my sister and I fell for the same man, Edmund. But he only had eyes for Rosalie, the sweet, innocent type. With them, I was always the third wheel. They got married, of course. And on their wedding day, I overheard my parents whispering. "The company's strapped for cash," my father said. "What if we marry Corinne off to our business partner? That'd solve our problem..." This "partner" was over fifty and twice divorced. So I ran. I fled to Sicily with the only five thousand dollars to my name. I ran on pure bitterness. In four years, I brought dozens of small-time Sicilian crews to heel and forged my own family: Vexille. In another two, I came back to New York and quietly became the most powerful woman in the North American underworld. By then, Edmund's power was crumbling, hit hard by a rival family. That's when my mother called, her voice full of that same old entitlement. "Your brother-in-law's in some trouble. Figure out a way to help him." Then a text from my sister, Rosalie, dripping with contempt: "Sister, I remember you have a little casino in Sicily, right? So you must know something about that Vexille family." "Edmund needs their help. See what you can dig up." They still don't know. I'm the Don of the Vexille family. I glanced at the schedule my advisor had prepared. Tomorrow, 9:00 AM. A sit-down with some minor family looking for a handout. The name on the file: Edmund.

After our parents passed away, two couples approached Serena and me at the same time, both wishing to adopt us. Serena dashed ahead, rushing toward the impoverished couple before I could move. “Hill, I’ll let you have the wealthy family,” she said, looking at me with a sweet smile. “I only care about your happiness.” However, I could hear her inner thoughts perfectly clear. She was privately gloating, telling me to enjoy being used as a mere tool for a business marriage, trapped inside a mansion for the rest of my life. That was when I knew—she had been reborn too. In our past life, Serena had been the one to rush toward the luxury cars, successfully becoming the pampered daughter of a wealthy family. Yet, she couldn’t handle their strict rules and discipline. She ended up sneaking out at night to wild out at bars, accidentally leaked classified family secrets, and was ultimately kicked out of the house. Meanwhile, I relied entirely on my own hard work to study abroad, eventually becoming a world-renowned scientific genius. On the day I was set to receive my grand award, Serena completely lost her mind. She stormed the stage and drove a knife straight into my body. “Why do you get to live such a free and successful life?!” she screamed. As she wished, we were both given a second chance to choose. Without a shred of hesitation, I turned around and stepped straight into the luxury car. She had no idea that without money, true freedom didn’t even exist. And this wealthy family? They were nothing more than my stepping stone in this life.

In my previous life, I am reunited with the Duran family. To protect the adopted girl, my brother, Adrian Duran, frames me for causing her illness to flare up. My parents believe him and throw me out of the house. Not long afterward, I die from illness on the streets. When I open my eyes again, I am back on the day I am brought back to the Duran residence. Adrian stands before our parents and points at me. "Mom, Dad, she's not my sister." The Durans look at me with disappointment before turning around and leaving. I stand there silently and do not take out the crystal pendant that can prove my identity. Instead, I quietly walk back to the orphanage. 20 years later, I become one of the country's leading cardiologists. The man sitting across from me hands over a medical file and speaks in a trembling voice. "Doctor, please... please save my sister." I pause when I see the name. My gaze settles on his worn and exhausted face. After staring at him for a long moment, I finally look up and say, "I won't be taking this patient."

After my dad has retired, I give him 5,000 dollars for his living expenses every month. Coupled with his monthly pension of 2,000 dollars, I thought Dad would be living a great life back in our hometown. Little do I know that the hospital calls me the next day, telling me that Dad has fainted from low blood sugar due to starvation, which leads to him getting sent to the ER. I'm stunned, to say the least. How can Dad starve to the point of getting hospitalized when he's living off 7,000 dollars per month? So, I rush back to my hometown overnight. In the ward, Dad is all skin and bones. He's lost so much weight that his cheekbones can be seen protruding. The moment he sees me entering the ward, he tries to get out of bed. "I want to get discharged! I'm not staying in the hospital! I don't have any money to get hospitalized!" I quickly stop Dad. "Dad, you get 7,000 dollars per month! Why don't you have any money at all?" He glares at me hatefully. "I don't have 7,000 dollars per month! Every month, you give me 200 dollars! You even stole my pension from me! As if I have any money to get hospitalized right now! "If not for the fact that I got up early just to rummage for junk over the past few years, I'd have died of starvation a long time ago!" Everyone in the ward turns to look at me. Meanwhile, my mind goes blank. The thing is, I do give Dad 5,000 dollars every month. I really want to explain the truth to Dad, but he's already crying about how I've kept his money for myself. He also claims that I don't care about him when he gets sick, and that I'm a total ingrate. Someone has recorded the whole outburst. Naturally, the tagline "Ungrateful Son Keeps Father's Money All to Himself" goes viral the next day. My name, my workplace, and my address are quickly dug up by the angry Internet users. Someone even goes so far to splash red paint onto my front door. Because of that, I get fired from my workplace. My landlord doesn't hesitate to kick me out as well. Feeling very dazed, I walk on the street, only to get hit by an incoming truck. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day I transfer the 5,000 dollars to Dad.

On International Women's Day, I spent twelve hours straight in a live stream, selling $5 million worth of product. When it came time to settle my commission, my aunt and boss, Sandra Holt, quietly transferred my $400,000 cut into her own account and handed me $500, labeled as a meal stipend. She took my hand with a warm, motherly smile. "Sweetheart, you're still an intern. Taking that much money at your age would hurt your career development. Let me hold onto it for you. Put it toward a car someday." I looked at the sharp calculation behind her kind eyes. I didn't argue. I took the money without a word. That night, I deleted my account and vanished, taking my entire product-sourcing system with me. The next morning, Aunt Sandra stared at a live stream with ten viewers and finally started blowing up my phone.

After the fire, my younger brother, Ethan Harper, and I have become comatose. Our own parents choose to deliver us to the rebirth trial. If we pass the trial, we'll regain consciousness and be granted a brand new life. The sensory caps are attached to our heads and soon connected to our brainwaves. Ethan chokes out, "Since Mom and Dad loves you so much, you'll definitely receive their votes, Emma." I turn to look at the judge instead. "After I'm reborn, can I request a new pair of parents? It's fine if the answer is no. My parents will still die, anyway."

After having been missing for many years, my biological parents found me at the age of sixteen. By that time, there was already someone else living in the family home who had taken my place as the Johnston family’s daughter. My parents, my older brother, and my fiance said warningly, “Don’t you dare act spoiled or entitled just because you’re a Johnston by blood. Also, don’t cause Hannah one ounce of trouble.” The entire family prioritized Hannah in every matter, which made me seem more like a maid whenever I was with them. For two years, I let them walk all over me, until they decided to use my near-perfect SAT score of 1550 to get Hannah, who had scraped together an 850, into an Ivy League school, Pranceton University. That was when I decided I was done playing nice. I called my adoptive parents.

When they dumped my sister Ayana Vale's body into the altar, it was in pieces, mangled beyond recognition. I overheard the warriors who had dumped her body there. They said she had been framed for conspiring with a witch to harm Lilith Voss, Silver Moon's future Luna, and had been subjected to dozens of brutal tortures before she finally died. "No one really believed she was working with a witch. They only had Lilith's word for it. But the Alpha refused to let Ayana defend herself. He simply decided that Lilith's miscarriage had been caused by a witch's curse. Poor girl kept calling out for her sister right up to the end." That was how I learned what had happened to Ayana. I was away sacrificing my wolf in exchange for the Moon Goddess's protection over the pack. Before I left, Soren Blackwood, my childhood friend and the Alpha of Silver Moon, had sworn to protect Ayana. But he had branded Ayana a witch's accomplice and condemned her to brutal torture for the sake of another woman. I looked down at Ayana's broken body, and a bitter laugh escaped me. Day after day, I prayed at the altar, sacrificing myself to secure a century of prosperity for the pack. And they had repaid me by torturing my sister to death. If that was how it would be, then the pack I'd spent so long protecting was also mine to destroy.

My son’s horrified scream echoed from downstairs at eight o’clock at night. Meanwhile, a message popped up in a group chat for the apartment building’s residents. “Silas, does your son even have a heart? He won’t even play with my girl.” I froze, recalling that the neighbor didn’t have a child. The next second, the neighbor sent a video. The footage showed a vicious Doberman lunging toward me to attack Ethan. It was bad enough that the neighbor didn’t stop the attack, but he even stood there, applauding. “Good girl. You’re amazing. You’ve got a big boy crying already. As Ethan was tackled to the floor, I shook in rage. Since the neighbor loved playing games, I’d show him a thing or two. I raced to the kitchen and grabbed the knife before charging to the scene.

On my first day back with the Cannon family as the true heiress, I heard the voice of the family’s guardian spirit. “You must stop your father from investing in the West City project. There’s an ancient tomb beneath the site. He’ll lose everything.” I convinced my father, Aaron Cannon, to abandon the project and invest in North City instead. But a factory next to the North City site had a toxic gas leak. Dozens of workers died overnight. Aaron lost his entire fortune to the compensation. While the family was drowning in despair, the guardian spirit spoke again. “Money can be earned again, but it’s a pity your mother will die in a car crash tomorrow when she goes out to borrow money from an old friend.” I immediately stopped my mother, Sally Cannon, from leaving the house. She avoided the car accident but tragically died from a sudden heart attack. With tears streaming down his face, Aaron told me she had been having chest pains for days but had endured the pain. She had only decided to go to the hospital today because she could not bear it any longer. My blood ran cold. By stopping her from going out, I had ultimately caused her death. Overwhelmed with grief, Aaron drank pesticide and died on the spot. Overnight, there was no one left in the family but me and the fake heiress, Pearl Cannon. To repay the debts and support my education, Pearl took on three jobs a day. Then, the guardian spirit spoke to me once more. “Your sister has been dragged into an alley. Go save her now!” I rushed to the location. I arrived breathless and frantic, but I was already too late. My sister lay in a pool of blood. She was not breathing anymore. I thought, ‘Mia Talbert, it’s all your fault! You’re a curse. You should’ve died instead!’ Consumed by despair, I jumped from a tall building and ended my miserable life. When I opened my eyes, I had traveled to the past.

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.

I opened a restaurant in an alley, and business was booming. When the lease expired, I took the initiative to talk to the landlord about renewing it. The landlord, Jasper Smith, crossed his legs and said, “My dear Flynn, my dear little nephew Harvey Jordan, wants to open a restaurant too. So, this place would be perfect for him. “He thinks your food is delicious, so he went out of his way to learn all the recipes for your dishes and soups. Come to think of it, he has you to thank for your careful guidance!” The blood rushed to my head. Harvey Jordan had kept his relationship with Jasper from me and worked at my restaurant for half a year. He had stolen my recipes, and he was trying to kick me out to steal my customers? I was furious. “Mr. Smith, isn’t this going a bit too far?” Jasper slammed his hand on the table. “The shop lot is mine. I’m free to rent it to whomever I want! Clear everything out before the lease expires!” I laughed through gritted teeth. “Are you sure you want to go down this road?” I had a secret blend of spices that I had never shared with anyone. Without it, my soups would become increasingly bitter the longer they boiled. Harvey had only learned some surface knowledge. He had yet to grasp the soul of it. I was interested to see how he would manage running a restaurant without its soul.

I couldn’t speak until I was eight years old. Everyone in the Sterling family called me dumb. Even my mother would secretly wipe away tears, convinced she had given birth to an autistic daughter. Whenever my father looked at me, his eyes were filled with nothing but disappointment. However, for the sake of the family’s reputation, he could never bring himself to send me away to a special education school. Then came the day someone from a prominent hedge fund company arrived to acquire our family company, Sterling Group. He was so arrogant that he chewed out everyone in the boardroom until all of them hung their heads low. The room full of corporate executives fell silent, too terrified to speak. Meanwhile, I stood there in the corner, listening to the whole thing until I felt sleepy and fed up. Taking a step forward, I spoke the very first words of my life.

My mom tends to speak the truth no matter what the occasion it is. When my boyfriend visits our family, Mom makes small talk with him happily. "Tiffany once contracted HPV when she was in her second year of college. Please don't judge her for that. Haha!" When my friend comes over to hang out with me, Mom leans in to take a closer look at her face. "With those high cheekbones and hollow cheeks, you've got 'short life' written all over your face! I guess only Tiffany is willing to hang out with you." Later on, I finally nailed a job as a governmental employee after putting in hard work for half a year. During the background check, Mom starts running her mouth about the "truth" again. "I think there's something wrong with Tiffany's moral ethics. First of all, she loves lying. Second of all, she's disrespectful to me. If your department does end up hiring her, you've gotta be careful." Undoubtedly, I get disqualified because of her words. That's when I get into a huge fight with Mom. But that woman has the audacity to talk back to me. "All I did was speak the truth about you! The fact that your department doesn't want you means that you lack the capability! Don't ever think that you get to pin the blame on me!" I fall silent at her words. Since Mom loves telling the truth that much, I might as well use the truth to destroy her.

After the semester began, all of my dorm mates wanted a part-time job. To fit in, I said I wanted one too. One by one, my dorm mates found part-time jobs, while I was still lazing around in the dorm. My dorm mate sent me a message. [How are you going to get by without a job?] I remembered a meme I'd seen online and texted back, "A kind middle-aged couple pays my bills, so I don't need a job right now." I didn't think much of it, until I stumbled across a post on social media. [My dorm mate said she wanted to get a part-time job, but all she does is lie around the dorm. When I asked how she could afford not to work, she said a married couple was paying all her bills. Should I report her for misconduct?] I thought it was funny. The comments gave her all kinds of advice. [Report her! What if she takes a scholarship spot from you?] [Exactly, get her expelled!] I still didn't think much of it until my academic advisor, Ethan Davis, showed up at my door. "Chloe, someone reported you for misconduct. They claim you're a sugar baby. Is that true?"