Historias cortas y novelas de Homewrecker Familial Bond

After my sister was born, my mother's love turned into a game decided by a coin toss. Mom had a custom gold coin made: the flower side stood for my sister, and the number side stood for me. For ten years, that coin decided who got the bigger slice of cake, who got a new dress, and even who went to the doctor when we were sick. But the number side never once landed face up. I cried, because none of it was fair, and Mom just looked at me coldly and said, "Your luck is worse than hers. Who are you going to blame for that?" The day my acceptance letter from the elite prep school arrived, all I wanted was a steak cooked by Mom. So I secretly swapped in a rigged coin engraved with a number on both sides. The coin hit the floor. Mom spotted the trick at once and kicked me hard, through the doorway and into my room. "You vicious little rotten thing. Get in there and think about what you did!" She didn't know that when she kicked me across the room, my head slammed into the sharp corner of my desk. Blood flooded my vision in an instant, and the pain was so intense I couldn't make a sound. I crawled toward the half-open door in desperation. I got a hand on the panel and tried to pull myself upright to call for help, and then a dead, silent dizziness rolled over me. My legs gave out, and my body, already unconscious, pitched straight forward. The momentum of my fall yanked the wooden door shut with a bang! I lay there limp as mud, and my own weight wedged that inward-opening door shut for good. Mom's furious voice came through from the hall. "So now you've got an attitude? Slamming doors at me? Then you can starve in there! "Don't be scared, Chloe. Mommy's taking you out for a big seafood dinner." Her heels receded down the hall as warm blood spread across the floor, inch by inch. I'm sorry, Mom. In my next life, I'll win with my own luck.

After my son was abducted, my husband took me to an adoption center to bring home a baby boy born the same year as the child we'd lost. I poured every ounce of love I had into raising him. He had a sensitive stomach, so I pushed through my chronic back pain to cook him special meals every single day. When he spiked a fever in the middle of the night, I carried him twenty miles through the rain to the nearest hospital. When he couldn't focus in school, I was constantly at his classroom door, flattering his teachers and bringing them gifts, just to get them to pay a little extra attention to him. Fifteen years of grinding sacrifice, and it all came down to one moment at his college acceptance party. "I couldn't have gotten into Harvard without my mother's love and hard work," he said into the microphone. He raised his glass, eyes drifting toward where I was sitting. The cameras flashed as I started to rise from my seat, matching his silent lip movements. And then I heard a name I didn't expect. "She is Rachel Lynch." I froze. That was my best friend's name.

As Dad lies on his death bed, he rasps to me that his only wish is to watch me get married. I keep crying to the point that my sobs come out silent. My entire family turns to look at Whitney Pearson, who stands behind me. She lets out a small sigh before wiping my tears away for me gently. Then, she leads me out of the ward. But as soon as the door is closed behind us, Whitney's expression turns icy. "Joseph, we've been dating for seven years. You of all people should know very well that I hate getting coerced into doing something the most. "Love is all about going with the flow. We shouldn't let others determine how our relationship should progress." Then, she caresses my cheek reassuringly. "Let's not rush our marriage. We'll talk more about this once things settle down after my company goes public. What do you think? "Anyway, I still have a meeting to get to tonight. You should deal with your family as you see fit. I'll bring a gift for you when I come home later." Before I can say anything, Whitney spins on her heel and leaves with her secretary, Kaiden Xavier. The moment both of them disappear into the elevator, I witness Kaiden bending over slightly to brush Whitney's hair from her face for her. She makes no move to stop him at all. After drying my tears, I return to the ward and take Dad's hand with a smile. "Don't worry, Dad. I'll get married in three days. In fact, I'm still waiting for you to do my tie for me before the start of the ceremony."

I had just hidden the pack's old, weak, and sick in a cave when I learned that my mate, Alpha Magnus Hale, had lost the battle. In an instant, the relief of having made it out alive turned into despair. Colt Mercer, the only warrior who made it back, was soaked in blood and barely breathing. "The Alpha's been taken prisoner. Both your sons are dead. Even your grandson... there's nothing left of him." At the same moment, the werewolves hunting us picked up our trail. They were right outside the cave, jeering. "It's just a bunch of she-wolves. When they come out, they're our sex slaves!" The cheering outside was deafening. Inside, every she-wolf around me had already made up her mind to die. "Luna, we'd rather die than bow to them." "Our men already gave their lives for this pack. We'll honor them by doing the same," another said. I looked at their steady faces and made my decision. I took out the wolfsbane I always carried and gave some to each of them. I watched each of them take her last breath. Only then did I pull out the silver dagger Magnus had given me for protection and drive it into my chest. My wolf howled inside me as I collapsed. Then, all at once, everything around me became sharp and clear. "The Alpha spoils his adopted sister Susie rotten. He got every warrior in the pack to join her prank on the Luna." "What can you do? He's spoiled her since they were kids. If she wants to play a game, he'll play along," another voice answered. Outside, the wolves burst out laughing. "When the Alpha and the others show up tomorrow morning, the Luna's going to be so happy she could die!" "Yeah. It's just a little scare. What could go wrong?" someone else said. With shaking hands, I reached for the she-wolves beside me, desperate for any sign of life. But the bodies beside me kept growing colder as the last of their warmth faded. Their prank of pretending they had lost the battle could end. But the she-wolves who had already died would never wake up again.

My daughter, Ruby Pratt, has leukemia. She needs a bone marrow transplant—and fast. Out of everyone in the family, my husband, Dan Pratt, was the only match. I begged him for an entire month before he finally agreed to go through with the donation. But on the morning of the surgery, he went completely off the grid. I stood outside the hospital all day, waiting. No calls. No texts. Not even a shadow. That night, his childhood friend, Valerie Kinder, posted on Instagram. In the photo, Dan was holding Valerie's hand with one arm and carrying her young son with the other—on a beach in Lulabo City. The caption read: [Soaking up the sun! Dan cleared his whole schedule to join us on a month-long trek and we finally made it to the coast! My little boy said Uncle Dan made his ocean dream come true. Pure joy!] My heart splintered. While I was drowning in worry over my daughter, he was off playing happy family with them. I wiped my tears and typed a comment beneath her post: [Not 'Uncle.' From now on, he's your son's father.] That night, I finally got a call from him. "Babe, don't be like this," Dan said. "You're not being fair. "Valerie's son has been bullied at school for not having a dad. I couldn't stand seeing him hurt, so I took them on this trip. It was supposed to help him heal. "I'll catch the first flight back tomorrow and head straight to the hospital to donate the marrow. I promise." I hung up with a bitter smile. The next morning, Dan rushed into the hospital room. But all he found on the bed was a death certificate.

On the day I'm sentenced to death, my parents, Herbert Meyer and Aileen Wagner, hold a press conference to announce their adopted son, Justin Meyer, as Meyer Corporation's new successor. My sister, Tiana Meyer, and Justin get engaged, and they finally become a real family. As for me, I've exposed Justin for who he really is, only to be branded an ingrate and disowned by my own family. After being reborn, I no longer want their love. I live only for myself.

Everyone in college has gone home for winter break. A guy from the next class shares a photo in our group chat, bragging about his Christmas gift—ten thousand and one 100-dollar bills. The entire group chat goes wild. I jump on the bandwagon, sending a couple of envious memes before tapping on the photo to zoom in. Ten thousand and one consecutive bills. But my eyes lock onto the family portrait peeking out from the edge of the frame. The woman in the photo… is Mom? I dial her number immediately. "Hey Mom, what Christmas gift are you going to get me this year?" On the other end of the line, her laughter falters. Then she replies casually, "Same as always—200 dollars. It's just a formality anyway. Why do you ask?" I force a smile and tell her it's nothing. I hang up and immediately hail a cab to that guy's house.

Eight years ago, I was transported into this post-apocalyptic power fantasy novel as the same-named expendable nobody. I had the ability to create a large-scale radiation shield that could block zombies. I was the only S-Rank ability user in the entire colony. But because my younger brother, Samuel Grant, failed to awaken his ability, my only purpose became providing him with "upgrade materials." I tried to fight against the story and refused to hand over my crystal core. But the story's inertia twisted everyone's minds. My parents accused me of working with the Zombie King just so they could forcefully transplant my crystal core into Samuel. My ex-wife, Chloe Carter, went even further. While I was unconscious, she personally cut open my chest and took half of my crystal core. I survived. But my spine was severely damaged. My ability circuits were destroyed. I became a cripple who could never stand again. After I was released from prison, I could only work at a chemical protection laundry plant on the outer edge of the colony. Then, a mutant zombie horde carrying extreme radiation surrounded the colony. The old shield generator was burned out by the radiation. Suddenly, my entire family knelt in the dirty wastewater and begged me. "Ethan, you're the only one who can manually guide the remaining power in your ability to repair the shield! You have to save Samuel! He's still fighting on the front lines!" Sitting in my wheelchair, I pointed at the eight-inch scar across my chest. Then I pointed at my withered legs. "The crystal core is inside Samuel's body. My broken spine is buried in the mud under your feet. I can't even stand anymore. And you want me to go into the radiation zone? Are you hoping to watch me die?"

I ranked first across the entire district on our first statewide college entrance practice exam, but no one in my family was happy. All because I accidentally laughed once at the dinner table. My father, who had always favored my cousin, exploded. "Trevor had a bad practice exam, and you're sitting there laughing?" "If it weren't for you, Trevor's parents wouldn't have died so young! How dare you use your score to humiliate him?" Without listening to a word I said, Dad shoved me into the home sauna and locked the door from the outside. But I had a congenital heart condition. I couldn't survive extreme heat, so I pounded on the door and begged for help. My parents ignored me. They moved into the condo they had bought near Trevor's prep school, cleared their work schedules, and devoted themselves to helping him prepare for the final exam. They completely forgot about me until exam day, when my homeroom teacher called. "Mr. and Mrs. Pruitt, where is Micah? Why hasn't he arrived for the statewide college entrance exam?" They froze, then raced back to the family estate in a panic. When they saw what remained inside the sauna, they completely broke down.

On my birthday, all because I spent ten bucks, Dad drags me out to kneel in front of the store owners. "Go beg them to give us a refund!" Tears burst from my eyes, but he doesn't give me a chance to fight back. Just like that, he forces me to kneel my way down the street, from the candy shop at one end to the stationery store at the other. Piece by piece, we return everything until we get the ten dollars back. A crowd gathers around us, pointing and whispering. The color drains from my burning face. Once we get home, Dad pulls out a yellowed bankbook and points at the balance with a blank stare. "Read it. How much is that?" I grit my teeth and force the words out. "T-Twelve dollars." Dad finally snaps. He slams the bankbook against my chest as his voice cracks with bitter disappointment. "Then do you have any idea how long it takes your mom and me to save the ten bucks you blew today? Joshua Kirkland, you are a massive disappointment! We are poor. Don't you ever forget that!" I sob and tell him I understand, promising never to spend another dime. The next day, I cough up blood at school, and the school doctor asks if I need to go to the hospital. I squeeze the bloody tissue in my hand and choke back a sob. "I can't go. My parents don't have the money…"

"Daddy, I want to see Mommy," my son, Simon Lloyd, murmurs after he regains consciousness on the hospital bed. I freeze for a moment and instinctively look toward the hospital room door. No one is there. Yesterday, after Simon came out of the operating room, my wife, Selena Aston, held his hand and said, "Don't worry. I'll be right outside waiting for you. I'm not going anywhere." Why is she nowhere in sight? I begin to panic and pull out my phone to call her, but there's no answer. Just then, I see a new photo posted on Instagram. Her male colleague, Joe Carter, is the one who posted it. The caption reads, "I'd like to thank a certain someone for filling the role of a mother in my daughter's life." In the photo, Selena is wearing matching outfits with Joe's daughter, Katy Carter. She holds Katy in her arms while smiling brightly the whole time. They look like a happy family of three. That is, if Selena weren't my wife at all.

I spent two years and went to a lot of wine-and-dine before finally snagging the 100-billion-dollar deal with Mr. Lawson, the industry leader. On the night of the signing, my fiancée gave my client to the fake heir who had just returned from his study abroad. I asked her why she did that, but she held the fake heir's arm and looked at him like she was heartbroken. "He already had it rough, getting sent away. You're his brother. Surely, you can help him." Chris Riverson had a smug look on his face as he mocked, "You might be Dad and Mom's real son, but you should study how I handle business. Otherwise, you'll just end up embarrassing the family." The bastard stole my client and had the gall to lecture me? I laughed mirthlessly and looked at my mother, but she seemed proud as she took Chris' side. She announced, "Chris is right. He studied abroad for two years and has more experience than you. Besides, he's been with the family for more than 20 years. He has a stake in the company. You must be tired after managing everything for two years. "Let him handle things from now on." I didn't bother arguing. After all, Mr. Lawson only signed that deal after triple-checking that I was the person in charge. He had also made it clear that he had the right to pull out at any moment if I were to leave. These people wanted Chris to take over so hard, did they? Fine, they could have it, but I wasn't going to clean up any of their messes.

On my birthday, my fiancé, Vincent Drake, gave me an expired anti-aging serum. Meanwhile, my sister, Diana Ashford, wore the luxury diamond necklace he'd given her. She stood on stage, cutting into a custom cake he'd ordered for her worth over thirty thousand dollars. Just like every year, my parents and my fiancé were right by her side. They toasted to another happy year for her. From my corner, I stared at the anti-aging serum in my hands. It wasn't even meant for someone my age. The "sample" sticker on the back hadn't been fully peeled off. I shared the same birthday as my sister, but I was always the one who got overlooked. Even the event staff each got a slice of cake. But by the time they got to me, there was none left.

On the day my parents file for bankruptcy, my adopted brother and fake heir, Oliver Bilson, is also diagnosed with leukemia. To earn enough money to pay his medical bills, I brave the snow and winds and continue working even on New Year's Eve. When I hand over the food delivery to the scion, Charlie Jetton, he suddenly knocks the cake over. "Why weren't you more careful when making the delivery?" he demands. "Don't you know that Mr. Bilson spent a million dollars to specifically order this cake for Olly?" I'm about to make a retort when I hear three voices that I'm intimately familiar with coming from within the warm villa. "It's okay. It's the thought that counts, Mom and Dad." The voice belongs to none other than Oliver! Dad, who claims that our family has gone bankrupt and is saddled with a mountain of debt, proudly says, "You're so mature, Olly. I'm going to give you an island to reward you!" Mom, who has always been frugal, gently adds, "My one and only, precious son is so understanding. I'll give you my golf club in Masonila, so don't be angry, alright?" My phone chimes just as the cake lands next to my feet, informing me that I have received a bad review. Later, I cut ties with them and leave with my advisor, Richard Dyer. However, when Mom and Dad find out that I'm leaving, they fall to their knees and frantically beg me to stay as if they have completely lost their minds.

After successfully completing the mission, I return to my original world. I awaken from my vegetative state to find my now-grown children waiting at my bedside. My husband pulls me into a tight embrace. My parents and mother-in-law are overcome with tears of joy. Just as I'm about to say goodbye to the System and choose to remain in my original world, a woman who looks almost exactly like me pushes open the door. My children rush over to her, calling her "Mommy" affectionately. Everyone looks at me awkwardly. The woman gives me a provocative smile. I stop the System. "Let me think about whether I want to stay here."

The day Victor Moretti told me he was the Sicilian Don's heir, he also handed me a bill for everything he had spent on me over the years. "Elena, the Family will never let a woman who came to me for money become its next Donna." He pushed the ledger across the table to me. From the hot dogs we shared when we first got together to the condoms we used the first time we slept together. From the mattress-cleaning bill he had fronted to the hospital bill for my miscarriage. Thirty-seven thousand five hundred dollars in total. Every single item, down to the cent. I looked at the man I had loved for five years, swallowed the taste of blood rising in my throat, and kept my voice low. "I have to settle my mother's surgery bill first. I'll pay you back next month." Victor frowned at once. "Camilla was right about you. Women who come from nothing, like you, always have an excuse. I should have listened to her. I never should have broken the rules and gotten involved with you at all. Fine. One month. But you'll pay the same interest rate the Family charges its borrowers." I gritted my teeth but didn't argue. I silently accepted the condition. But the hospital's billing desk had another shock waiting for me. A clerk told me the balance in my account was down to one dollar. The hundred and fifty thousand I had scraped together from every corner of my life to save her was gone. Shaking all over, I called Victor. His tone was as condescending as ever. "I hacked into your account. Camilla Marchetti wanted an antique jeweled necklace, and she was a hundred and fifty thousand dollars short." "It comes to more than what you owe me. Consider the difference payment for the damage you did to my Family's name." With two casual sentences, he had turned my mother's life into a bauble at the throat of a mafia boss's daughter. The call ended. Then a nurse behind me said, "Miss Hayes... you don't need to pay. Your mother... she just took her own life... She said she didn't want to be a bur

On my 24th birthday, an app suddenly appears on all the other digital devices in my family except my phone. The one inside that app is another version of me, another Cordelia Winchester. But she's so much better at everything than I am. Mom's bakery has been in the red for three years. "Cordelia" casually tweaks one recipe, and the cakes sell out that same day. Dad has failed to earn his promotion three times. "Cordelia" revises his presentation, and the very next day, his boss grants his promotion. My fiance, Chase Jensen's company is about to run out of cash. "Cordelia" spends ten minutes reworking his pitch deck, and the investors immediately put in another 20 million dollars. From then on, Mom starts asking her how to develop every new dessert. Dad prints out screenshots of everything she says. Even when Chase chooses an engagement ring, he asks her opinion first. On my 25th birthday, before we even cut the cake, Mom suddenly stares at the app and asks, "Does she really have to stay inside the phone?" Dad lowers his voice. "Is there any way to bring her here for real?" Chase taps open customer support. [Apply for a parallel-life exchange?] Customer support replies, [After the exchange, the Cordelia from your world will be sent to the other world. Confirm exchange?] They barely hesitate. I watch as they hit "confirm", my nails digging into my palms and drawing blood. I force a strained smile. "Since you guys adore her so much, I hope you don't regret this." The next second, a red line of notification appears on the screen. [Exchange sequence initiated. Countdown: 7 days.]

To shield my sister from a street thug's iron bar after she cut class, my right leg was shattered. The infection that followed left the doctors no choice but to amputate. From that day on, I spent ten years in a wheelchair. Consumed with guilt, my sister massaged my stump every single day. My parents wiped their reddened eyes and promised that everything they owned would go to me someday, to make up for what I had lost. Then my sister won the highest international ballet award, and the whole family wept with joy. Before the ceremony, she looked at my wheelchair. Her eyes suddenly filled with tears. "This is the greatest moment of my life. If a cripple tags along, what will the press write about me? "Dad, Mom, just this once, let the three of us go together, looking our best. Please?" My parents caved in the end. Before they left, Mom was afraid I might fall, so she lashed me to the wheelchair with hemp rope. "Be good, Audrey. I put all the knives and scissors away. Don't move around. We'll bring you back egg tarts from Belem." I sat obediently in the middle of the living room and watched the front door close, then heard the lock turn from outside. That night, the old electric blanket in the bedroom short-circuited and caught fire. The flames burned their way from the bedroom into the living room. I could not break free of the ropes. I could not reach the door handle. I could not find a single thing sharp enough to cut myself loose. The fire licked up my one remaining leg. The pain was beyond anything I had ever known. I sobbed through the smoke, begging my family to save me. They hung up. On the television, my sister stood in the spotlight, her smile radiant and dazzling.

Dad had 22 sons before he finally got me, a daughter at last. He was so thrilled that he replaced our century-old crest of two lions with a lily. I grew up surrounded by doting older brothers. But not one of them had a clue about girls. So when my brother Anthony Gambino brought Elena Bellini home from Milan, I was delighted. When we first met, she stroked my hair and promised to have afternoon tea with me every day. Anthony said she was the love of his life. When Dad saw how much I liked her, he approved the marriage on the spot. But the day after the wedding, she cornered me in the glass greenhouse at the back of the estate. "You stupid little girl. Did you really think I came here to be your playmate? "My husband controls shipping operations at every port in North America. One day, he'll have the final say in this family. "In two weeks, I'll have him send you to Mexico to marry a drug lord. "The only girl the Gambino family treasures will be my daughter." I stared at her smug smile, stunned. Does she really think Anthony got control of our shipping operations all by himself? Years ago, Dad had asked me which brother I liked best. I'd pointed to Anthony without giving it much thought. Dad had put him in charge of the organization's books right then and there. If his wife wanted to make my life miserable, I'd just have Dad pick a different heir.

I was born a liar. That was the label my mother gave me. In the Dark Moon Pack, every pup carries a Lunar Mark on their wrist. Green means truth. Red means liar. My twin sister Maya slashed Mommy's ceremonial dress with a blade and blamed the pack hounds. Her wrist stayed soft and green. My mark went crimson when I said I was cold. "Mommy, I'm telling the truth. Please believe me." Elena would crouch down, look me in the eye, and say the same thing every time. "The Goddess's mark is absolute, Selena. Your own heart betrays you." She never touched me. She just looked at my wrist with disgust. No matter how honest I tried to be, my heart would race when I was scared. And every time my pulse spiked, the mark turned red. I lied when I said I was hungry. I lied when I said I loved her. I lied when I cried. After enough years, I stopped fighting back. I started to believe her. Maybe I really was broken. Maybe I was just born wrong. The night I died, I wrote one last line in my Penance Journal. "Mommy, help me. It hurts. Please — just believe me once." She never saw it. She had already locked the door and walked away. I'm sorry, Mommy. I died still trying to get it right. In my next life — will you hold me?