Plot Twists Short Stories & Homewrecker Face Slapping Novels

My Rival Bragged About Her Don Husband, But He Was My Secret Husband I was the heiress of a Mafia family. Since I always kept a low profile, the head cheerleader Selena Hartwell mocked me throughout high school. After graduation, I cut contact with every last classmate and threw myself into family business. Then, just as our family was reestablishing its foothold on the East Coast, an old high school group chat blew up. Selena went crazy tagging me: "Ava Costanzo, I'm getting married — and my husband is a Don! I'm ordering you to come to my wedding!" The wedding photo she posted showed the groom cropped out, but I recognized the cufflinks. The man beside her was Julian Moretti, the second son of the Moretti family, a crew that couldn't even manage two shipping routes without leaning on us.

As an exploration geologist, I'm caught in a landslide during a mission, and one of my arms is crushed. Before we set out, our exploration team has accurately predicted the weather. There's no chance of heavy rain that day. It isn't until I overhear my wife, Diana Nelson, talking to a doctor friend that I learn the truth. "Diana, you knew Adam was going out on a mission that day, yet you spent a fortune on creating cloud seeding just to get him injured and eventually cost him an arm. You really went too far for Flynn." Diana frowns. "Who told him to care so much about that exploration project? The only way the project can go to Flynn is if Adam gets disabled. "Otherwise, Flynn will be sent to Nambara. You think I can bear to let him suffer in a place like that?" What she doesn't know is that the Nambaran assignment will go to either Flynn Cooper or me. Before leaving, I put my medical report, which states that I've lost my reproductive ability, into a box. The day Flynn makes a name for himself, the box will be delivered to Diana as a gift.

The day I came back to the Bennett family as the real heiress, Romina, the fake one, looked at me with red-rimmed eyes and said she wanted to give the engagement back to me. "Don't bother. I'm already seeing someone." I rested a hand on my barely noticeable belly and said, half joking, "If you feel that bad about it, how about you just cash me out instead?" The words had barely left my mouth before a few lines of text drifted across my vision. [lmaooo the villainess is still scheming for money at a time like this. can we please skip ahead to the part where the male lead puts her in her place.] [I came for the sweet romance between the lead and the fake heiress heroine, not some side character throwing a fit because she's got a baby bump to wave around] [spoiler from me! the villainess gets thrown out of the family, the lead ends up hating her, and she dies in childbirth. throwing confetti!] I clicked my tongue. How could I possibly cling to a strange man? Then footsteps came from behind me. Romina walked over, crying, and introduced me. "Orlando, this is my sister, Ophelia. The engagement was supposed to be hers." I turned around, and my whole body went rigid. It was the patron who'd kept me for five years, the father of the child I was carrying.

Since my daughter, Lucy Shepherd, is an only child, my husband, Felix Shepherd, and I have decided to find her a live-in son-in-law. I ask on an online forum, "If my future son-in-law has a master's degree from a top university and earns over 10,000 dollars a month, what kind of wedding gift would seem appropriate to welcome him into the family?" Someone jokingly replies, "You'd probably have to be loaded to get a son-in-law like that. Why not give him ten million dollars as a wedding gift?" Without any hesitation, I take the person's advice and give Paul Cranston, my future son-in-law, and his family ten million dollars, along with a riverfront apartment. However, to guard against the possibility of Paul and his family seizing Lucy's inheritance for themselves once we're gone, I make Paul sign a prenuptial agreement. It clearly states that all their children must take the Shepherd family name and that the family's assets will not go to anyone with a different last name. Paul agrees to it and even thanks me profusely for everything. Yet, when Lucy gives birth to her second child, he immediately grabs the baby and changes his tune. "Even though I married into the Shepherd family, that doesn't mean I'm no longer my own person! My son must take my family name! This affects my dignity as a man!" I scoff in anger, but before I can say anything, Lucy, who is completely blinded by love, tearfully takes Paul's side. "Just go along with it, Mom. We're all a family anyway. Why must you harp on whose last name is used?" I hold my ground and refuse to back down. But the very next day, Lucy flies abroad with Paul, bringing along her two children. They have no qualms about moving into the property that Felix and I had bought abroad, as if it were their own. Despite being 58 years old, I am so enraged by her foolishness that I drag Felix to a fertility clinic. We start the IVF process. After turning 59 years old, I give birth to a son. Just as the nurse brings him to me, the door to the hospital room flies open. The family of four, who have just rushed back in a hurry, freeze in place.

On the day of my coming-of-age ceremony, I must choose a fiancé from among the heirs of three great families. Everyone believes I will choose Dario Morandi—the man I have pursued for years. Instead, I pick up the photograph of his older brother, Cassiano Morandi. Cassiano is known as the lunatic who was kidnapped by enemies at the age of five and thrown into an underground fighting pit. He survived on his own for ten years before the Morandis brought him back. No one thinks he is worthy of me, the Vito family's Principessa. In my previous life, I choose Dario. On our wedding day, Lina Greco—the daughter of Papa's chauffeur—shows up in a white wedding dress with her pregnant belly on display, crying as she claims the child is Dario's. Enraged, I have her thrown out. But amid the chaos, she suffers a miscarriage. Dario smiles and goes through with the wedding. But in the third year of our marriage, he steals classified intelligence and hands it over to my famiglia's enemies. I die that very night. Now that I have a second chance at life, I decide to fulfill his wish and let him be with Lina. What I never expect is that he has been reborn as well.

After I get pregnant, my husband, Edmund Zeller, has been sending me less and less money for living expenses. Eventually, I'm left with only 800 dollars a month. Taylor Zeller, Edmund's sister and my best friend, is outraged. "My brother's a bastard. I'd rather work three jobs than let you and the baby starve." I don't want to be a burden to Taylor, so I set up a stall at a market at night when I'm seven months pregnant. After my daughter, Kayla Zeller, is born, I can only afford the cheapest formula. She's not even two months old, yet she already looks so thin. On the day Edmund comes home, I've completely lost hope, so I ask him for a divorce. He just lets out an exasperated laugh. "I give you two million dollars a year for your living expenses, and you can't even say something nice about that? My sister was right. You're such a gold digger." I freeze on the spot. "Two million dollars? But I only get 800 dollars a month."

Everyone in the underworld knew Daniel Taylor loved me more than anything. He was a powerful mafia Don. Yet every year, he set aside a whole month to go to the monastery of San Colombano, climb its 102 stone steps one by one, and pray for me and the child we'd lost. And I had always believed I was the happiest woman in the world. Until the day I saw the video my best friend, Talia Marino, posted on Facebook for her son Renzo's fifth birthday. In the video, Renzo kept calling out for his daddy in a singsong voice. A moment later, a pair of hands reached into the frame and picked him up. Gentle, practiced hands. But I recognized the four-leaf clover bracelet on one wrist. I'd searched the whole city to find it for Daniel. I sat in front of a warm fire, but a chill crept through me. Just then, Rosa Santos, our housekeeper, came over. She took the 4D ultrasound printout from my hand. It had already started to yellow. "Donna, are you thinking about your daughter again?" I looked up. I hadn't even noticed the tears on my face. Yes. I was thinking about her again. Today was the anniversary of her death. I closed the video and called the cemetery office at the monastery. "Hello, this is Lucia Capello. I'd like to arrange for my daughter, Emma Taylor, to be reburied..." "Of course. You'll need to submit the paperwork, and the process takes three days." When I hung up, I booked a flight to Malmö for three days later.

The underprivileged student I've been sponsoring suddenly shows up at my birthday party, swaggering in and waving around a pregnancy report. "Look—Pheebs is pregnant with my baby! You'd better be smart and divorce her already!" I point at the report, stunned and confused. "Are you sure it's Phoebe who's pregnant with your child?" Victor Thompson, my beneficiary, smirks proudly as he fiddles with the pregnancy report. "Duh! We conceived the baby last month on our cruise trip!" The entire room falls into a stunned silence. My ex-wife, Phoebe Jackman, has been dead for three years.

My mother-in-law, Emma Grant, and I return to the country in advance during Christmas Eve. We originally plan on giving our respective husbands a huge surprise by showing up at Grant Manor. But the moment we arrive at the front door, we find out that the entire manor is painted in pink. A rich lady quickly blocks our way. "This is a private Christmas Eve party, you know! Not anyone is allowed entry! Besides, I don't recall having invited you here! Get lost now!" Emma frowns at her. "What a joke! Why do I need your permission to come here?" The lady shoots Emma a dark smirk in return. "Do you have any idea who the owner of this manor is? It belongs to my husband, Edward Grant! "In fact, Edward's the one who specifically threw this party just for me! Since you're dressed like a slut at this age, that just means you're planning to use this opportunity to seduce my darling husband!" My mind begins buzzing loudly. Isn't Edward Grant my father-in-law, who married into the Grant family as a live-in son-in-law? How could he be this lady's husband instead? Then, the lady catches sight of my phone's lock screen, which is my wedding portrait with my husband, Caleb Grant. She roars, "Oh, I see! You two are a pair of shameless minxes! It seems you've found out that my adoptive son, Caleb, is about to get engaged with my daughter tonight! That's why you're here to cause chaos, right?" Emma and I swap glances with each other in confusion. It turns out that both Edward and Caleb have been cheating on us this whole time. But then again, these two men are living off the Grant family! What makes them think they have the right to have side chicks on their own?

Two in the morning. I found over a hundred transfer records on my husband Derek's phone. Every single one was for five, ten, or fifteen dollars. I opened the recipient's Instagram profile and found a feed full of pink hair, smoky eye makeup, and skin-tight low-rise jeans. Underneath was a caption that stung: "Thanks for the hot dogs, Pops. Spoiled again today." And the first person to like the post was my own daughter, Crystal, a well-behaved high school senior.

My older sister, Noelle Brown, has an unhealthy obsession with me. When I was ten years old, Noelle almost got kidnapped by the kidnappers. I got into the kidnappers' van in her stead. Later on, I was returned to my family after they paid a ransom. But my face had already been slashed by the kidnappers, and my legs had been broken by them, too. Since then, Noelle has worked extremely hard to improve herself. That's how she successfully brings the company Dad has left behind to a new level of success. I become Noelle's most cherished person as well as the vulnerable spot that no one else is allowed to touch. Someone made fun of my ugly looks in the past. Noelle had stuffed his head into a sack filled with rats, where he literally got his face chewed off him alive. There was also someone who ran his mouth about me being a cripple behind my back. Noelle responded by crushing his legs with a road roller, resulting in his legs being reduced to paste. Noelle is the demoness who's feared by the entire city. But to think that such a fearsome woman dotes on me endlessly. She even dumps a huge amount of money into sending me overseas, where I undergo numerous plastic and orthopedic surgeries while finishing my college studies. Before returning to the country, I receive an engagement invitation from Noelle. She tells me that soon, I'll have a brother-in-law who will spoil me like she does. She even sends me a photo of her fiance, Faris Smith. But as soon as I arrive at the villa, Faris barges in with a group of brutes. He's mistaken me for Noelle's side piece, whom she keeps in another country, so he begins torturing me endlessly. By the time Noelle reaches the scene, Faris points at me while shouting at her. "Don't tell me I can't even compare to that pretty boy!" Noelle's eyes go bloodshot at the sight. "What makes you think you're even worthy of being compared to him?"

Valerie Palmer, who has been in a secret marriage with me, brings her secretary, Thomas Freeman, to the family gathering. After she has half a glass of red wine, Thomas snatches the glass over and downs the rest. When Thomas takes a bite out of the pickled cucumber and deems it too sour, he feeds it to Valerie right away, who swallows it without a second thought. Having witnessed everything, I hand the divorce agreement to Valerie. She looks at me coldly. "Is it really necessary for you to do this? Thomas is just a secretary." I can't hold it back anymore. "You never even touched the glasses that I've used before, and yet you could eat something that was coated in his saliva?" Valerie responds by throwing the papers in my face. "You call yourself a mature adult even though all you do is feel jealous all the time! Don't you think this is embarrassing?" She seems to be used to not taking me seriously at all. Even now, she still thinks that I'm just throwing a tantrum. I lower my head, a bitter smile gracing my face. "Valerie Palmer, I want a divorce from you."

My mom, Serena Brunetti, is the most hopelessly lovesick side character in a romance novel. She's the daughter of the Don of the Brunetti family, for crying out loud. But she rejected the match her family arranged and insisted on marrying my dad, John Carter, instead. I call him Trash Dad. He's a freeloader who lives off her money and keeps his first love on the side. The result? Seven miscarriages, all deliberately caused. Yet she's so sweet and clueless that she thinks they happened because her body is too weak. She even feels as if she let Trash Dad down. And me? I'm the poor little soul who tried to be born seven times in a row and never made it out of heaven. On my eighth try, even my angel couldn't stand to watch anymore and personally escorted me into the world. Before leaving, the angel even gave me a max-level Baby Talk buff. I was all set to live my best life, adored and spoiled rotten. Instead, Trash Dad walked up to Mom's hospital bed with a smile, carrying some random baby boy. "You did so well, honey. Look, this is our precious son, the first in line to inherit from your dad." Meanwhile, I'd been stuffed into a filthy biohazard bin, and I was about to be tossed into an incinerator and burned to ash! I panicked and started cursing in my head. Lovesick Mom, wake up! That's Trash Dad's son with his side piece. I'm your real daughter. Come save me! Mom, who had been leaning against Trash Dad and gazing at him like a lovesick puppy, suddenly shivered.

My wife, Anne Brighton, gives me a gray parrot. Every single day, it looks me in the eye and screeches, "Go to hell!" I send it to a parrot rehabilitation center, where they place it in a mirrored cage and play "I'm a good bird" on loop, three thousand times a day. Here's the thing—I've been reborn. In my past life, that parrot came into our home knowing only two phrases—"So ugly" and "Go to hell". At first, I believed it was merely mimicking what it had heard. But then my body began to fail. Sleep was the first to go. Every night, the same nightmare returned, and the same voice echoed through it, repeating those words over and over. "Go to hell." My appetite disappeared, and I wasted away until I was nothing but bones. In the end, my organs gave out. I didn't find out the truth until I was dying. The parrot I thought it was wasn't one at all. It was Ian Sawyer—my best friend, who had been dead for years, trapped inside that bird the whole time.

We were engaged for three years. Yet Kyros delayed our vow ceremony at Hera's temple thirty-three times. The first time, he went to guide his fragile apprentice, Lyris, on her first mission. I waited alone all night by Hera’s sacred fire. I endured the agony of divine punishment. The contract mark on my ring finger burned my flesh to a crisp. The second time, Lyris whined over the comm-stone that she was scared. Kyros dropped my hand without a second thought. He left me to fight a lesser beast for her. After that, every single time we stood at the altar, Lyris somehow ran into a "deadly crisis." Then came today. "We'll have our ceremony, I promise. But I'm responsible for Lyris. She doesn't feel well, so I have to go." He kissed my ear, tossing me a casual excuse, and walked away. Through the comm-stone, I heard him laughing with his friends. "Who cares if I delay it? She's an orphan. Where is she going to go without me and the guild?" I wiped my tears. I swallowed the soul-shredding agony of Hera's wrath. I was done. He didn't know I wasn't an orphan at all. I was a Goddess from Mount Olympus. My only reason for coming to the mortal world was to spend the rest of my life with him. Now, thirty-three divine punishments later, it was time to let go of this pointless romance. It was time to go home. But when I crossed the Gates of Olympus—a place no mortal could ever reach—he broke. He fell to his knees at the foot of the mountain. He even tried to rip out his own Demon Hunter heart with his bare hands, just begging for one last look from me.

During the Christmas holiday, a fire suddenly broke out at my family’s factory. My younger brother, who had gone there to inspect operations, was trapped inside the burning building. As the captain of the fire department, I calmly ordered my team not to go in to rescue him. My mother, Susan Tatcher, and wife, Willa Sutton, begged me desperately to go in and save my brother, but I pulled out my phone and started playing Poker. My mother was on the verge of breaking down. “Zayne Luke, hurry in and save your brother! He’s so young. He can’t endure this kind of suffering!” My wife was also pacing anxiously. “Honey, with a fire this complicated, only you can save Mors!” After all, this was my family’s factory. No one knew the escape routes better than I did. However, I turned a deaf ear to them and leisurely topped up my token balance by 100 dollars to keep playing. Having no other choice, Mom splashed cold water on a thin blanket and prepared to rush into the fire. I blocked the key rescue entrance. “What’s the rush? Wait until I finish this round.”

My Mate, Alpha Cain, froze all my assets. Right when I was about to have our first pup. The voice on the phone belonged to his new assistant. A smug Beta she-wolf named Jasmine. She sneered. “Every penny you spend goes through me now. Cain bled for this pack. He won’t waste his money on a weak wolf who can’t even hold a shift.” That same day, the contractions started. They rushed me to the pack hospital. Every single one of my cards was declined. But that wasn’t enough. She kicked my parents out of the "Moonlight Sanctuary," the new healing center I’d built for them. Threw them into a basic room. Her reason? “Two old-timers don’t deserve the Alpha’s resources.” I laughed. She had no idea. Those "old-timers"? They're the Alpha King and Luna of the Crestfall bloodline. The rulers of all the Northern packs. She had no idea Cain’s pack, his mines, his Alpha title—everything he has—was a gift from the Crestfalls. My parents were about to step down. To give me the entire North. And to Cain. Too bad. Cain let his mistress humiliate the only true royalty he would ever touch. Three days later, Cain threw a huge party. A welcome party for the powerful benefactor backing his Northern territory. In front of all his guests, his Beta dialed the benefactor’s number. A second later, my phone rang.

During interviews, Ashley Freeman always smiles when she says that I'm the man behind her success. She claims that it is only through my support that she has become queen of the courtroom. Now, I have just secured the final cross-border merger for her. Her firm will officially rank among the global elite the moment this contract is signed. I rush to the airport carrying the merger documents, preparing to board my private plane and fly out to Tedlar Street to seal the deal, but I am stopped at the boarding gate. "Ms. Freeman gave strict orders. She's taking Mr. Luke and Mr. Collins to Swakosland for a vacation today. No outsiders are allowed on board." "Outsiders". The word leaves me briefly speechless. Through the door of the VIP lounge, I spot Ashley sitting inside. She cradles a three-year-old boy in her arms, while Eddie Collins, her first love from college, sits right beside her. The boy snuggles in her chest, his tiny hands clutching the lapel of her coat. He looks so familiar and comfortable with her, as if he has been held this way from the day he was born. "Mommy! Daddy said the three of us will fly on a giant plane to see the snow!" Ashley doesn't correct him. Instead, she kisses his cheek with such gentleness that she feels like a stranger to me. "That's right, sweetie. Are you happy?" The three of them lean in close to one another, looking like the picture-perfect family. After staring at them for a long time, I let out a soft, low chuckle and dial a number on my phone. "Pull every authorization and funding agreement I've ever signed for Ashley in the last ten years." Since she believes she already has everything, I'll destroy everything I've spent the last decade building for her.

After giving birth early, memories from a different life flooded into my mind. In these memories, the daughter I had worked so hard to bring into the world was switched with hers. After that, I was told that my daughter had a congenital heart condition. I worked hard to raise her for eighteen years. In the end, I sold off all my assets so that she could have a heart transplant. Meanwhile, I had collapsed from all my efforts to care for her. Left with no choice, I wanted to tell my “daughter” that I was leaving this world, but I overheard her talking with my best friend. “That fool still thinks I’m her daughter. I was the one who poisoned her! Mom, once she dies and you get rid of that pretender, we can finally be together again!” That was when I found out my daughter had been swapped out, and that I had been giving my all to the perpetrator. When I next opened my eyes, pain radiated from my belly, and a nurse said, “Miss Scott, we’ve just learned that your daughter has a congenital heart condition.”

When Samuel Larson came to pick me up from work at the county clerk's office, he suddenly slid a marriage license through the service window. "Actually, this one was fake the whole time. Getting back together with you was just a joke." Before I could process what he'd said, he waved a brand-new marriage license in front of me and grinned. "Yesterday, Jessie sat on my lap and kissed me. It felt so good I couldn't help myself. So I went and got a real marriage license with her." The second betrayal hit me as a bucket of cold water dumped over my head. I stared at him in disbelief. "Why?" I asked in a trembling voice. "Because you're gullible." He narrowed his eyes and savored the sight of me tearing up. He then smiled and handed me a tissue. "Back then, it took you three years to figure out Jessie and I were secretly seeing each other. "So we made a bet. We wanted to see how long it would take you this time." His gaze shifted to the fading hickey on my neck. He paused briefly before shrugging. "She bet it'd take you a year at most. That's why I've been leaving obvious clues all year. "But I got tired of acting, and you still didn't catch on. "Today's the last day of the bet. I wanted her to win and be happy. "I had no choice but to just tell you myself."