Plot Twists の短編小説 & Homewrecker Marriage 小説

Five years ago, I finally had my father’s killer at gunpoint—only for my husband, Don Salvatore Rizzo, to pull the killer’s daughter into his arms. "Julia, don't kill her. She had nothing to do with our fathers' feud." My grip tightened on the gun. "Do you know my parents were tied to stones and dumped into the sea because of one lie she told?" Salvatore sighed and pressed down on my wrist. "Darling, calm down. Caterina is just an innocent girl. She was forced into it." To keep me from killing Caterina, he insisted on bringing her into the Rizzo Family. From then on, there was nothing left between us but hatred. Whenever I held a knife to Caterina's throat, Salvatore aimed a gun at my back. When I tore up the gown Caterina's mother had left her, Salvatore made me stand outside all night in the freezing cold. Until today, when Caterina appeared behind Salvatore with a pregnancy report from the Family doctor in her hand. Salvatore shielded her with his body. "She's pregnant. I can't stand by and let you hurt her." Caterina said timidly, "Julia, please. For the sake of the Rizzo heir I'm carrying, put down the gun." I was the biggest joke in the world. I took half a step back and drew the gun at my waist. "Let's play a game. There's only one bullet in this gun." "If I die, no one will stand in the way of your happy little family." "If I survive, let me go."

I came home from a night shift and caught my husband in bed with his secretary. After the screaming and the chaos, I ran out like a woman losing her mind. Derek chased after me. We ended up at the river, fighting. Somehow we both fell in. He nearly drowned trying to save me—the doctors said the oxygen deprivation had caused severe brain damage. When he woke up, he could barely function. No memory. No independence. He followed me around like a lost child. "Wifey, don't leave me. I'm scared." Looking at that helpless, broken man, I gritted my teeth and held this family together. The secretary vanished without a trace. Six years passed. Derek slowly seemed to recover. He was gentle with me, attentive, loving. I even got pregnant with our second child. Then came the family dinner. Derek knocked back two glasses of whiskey and suddenly slammed his hand on the table, his face twisted with frustration. "My oldest boy is already in first grade, and I haven't made it to a single parent-teacher conference!" I thought his brain was glitching again. MY sister-in-law Vanessa rushed to cover his mouth, but he shoved her away and let out a cold laugh. "You really thought the water scrambled my brains?" "Chloe gave me a son. I haven't forgotten about him for a single day!"

After another trip to the ER for a bleeding ulcer, I found a flower order in Lily Marshall's phone. The recipient wasn't me. I switched off the screen without a word. No shouting, no scene. Lily glanced at me and gave a soft laugh. "My husband really is the understanding type." She grabbed her coat off the couch and headed for the door. "Josh just got off work. I need to go pick him up." Josh Segel was a college kid barely out of school, the fifth lover Lily had taken since we married. I kept my voice level. "Go ahead. But we're getting a divorce." She barely registered it, too anxious to care. "Josh gets lost on his own. If I don't go, he'll cry." "So because he'll cry, you're walking out on your own husband?" "Don't start, Neil." She sighed, out of patience, and turned to pat my shoulder. "He's young. His feelings are delicate. You're the steady and mature one. Don't put yourself in the same league as him." "And if I stopped being so mature and tried to stop you?" Her eyes went cold. "Go ahead and try. But think it through first. Without this marriage, what are you going to pay for your treatment with?" I managed a bitter smile, took out my phone, and sent a message to her father with her watching. [I agree to the divorce.]

After my sister-in-law, Isabella Sinclair, gives birth to my niece, my older brother, Lucas Donovan, runs off with my wealthy girlfriend. Furious, I decide to take advantage of the fact that Lucas and I look alike. I go to Isabella's bedroom and knock on the door, vowing to make her and their child pay under the guise of my brother. Ten years later, Lucas returns. Looking at the happy little girl I had helped raise and the increasingly successful career Isabella has built, he sneers coldly, "I've brought your girlfriend back to you. Now, it's time for you to give me back the family you took from me." By now, that once-rich ex-girlfriend of mine, Chloe Montgomery, has already lost her entire fortune. Lucas presses me, "If you refuse, I'll tell everyone about how you plotted to seduce Isabella!" Gritting my teeth, I give in. That night, I book a flight and take a cab to the airport. In the back seat, sitting on my lap, Isabella says, "I'm much better than that woman. Why not give me a try?"

My best friend Bianca Russo was born to work a room, and my engagement to Matteo Rinaldi was almost entirely her doing. Before we made things official, Matteo personally picked me up for opening night at the opera. He opened the car door for me. "I hear you've been looking forward to tonight." "Bianca bought the tickets," I told him honestly. "I'm just keeping her company." Bianca pinched me from behind and nudged me into the passenger seat with a laugh. "What she means is, she's hoping you'll drive her home after the show." Even after Matteo and I got engaged, he would say openly at family dinners that I wasn't as sharp as Bianca. "Looks like once we're married, I'll have to keep a room for Bianca at the estate." Family members and their business partners chuckled, but my heart sank with every laugh. Bianca was also the one who'd suggested the venue for our first charity ball as an engaged couple. By Rinaldi family tradition, the opening dance belonged to the Don and his fiancée. I'd practiced day and night for two weeks, until the backs of my heels were rubbed raw and crusted with blood. But when the band struck up the opening number, Matteo held out his hand to Bianca. "We have important guests tonight. The opening dance has to go off without a hitch." He looked at me as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Bianca knows these people better than you do, and she knows how to handle an event like this. Watch from the sidelines for now. You can have the second dance." Bianca didn't take Matteo's hand right away. She sounded torn. "Why don't you let Elena do it? She's your fiancée." That was what she said, but her eyes never left Matteo's outstretched hand. "Do I really have to ask you twice, Ms. Russo?" Matteo raised an eyebrow. The chandelier light cast a shadow beneath his sharply defined brow. The moment they stepped onto the dance floor side by side, the conversation around the room died away. The spotlight fell on the two of them, and their slightly

After I quit my job to become a full-time househusband, my wife, Brooke Lowell, left me with nothing but a bank card capped at 1,000 dollars a month. She said children had to be raised with hardship to grow up strong, and was always worried I might secretly give our daughter special treatment. But 1,000 dollars was nowhere near enough to cover a household's monthly expenses. Every time the kindergarten asked for nutrition fees, I could only swallow my pride and beg for leniency. "She's just a child. Why does she need that much money? You've got some nerve, living so comfortably on 1,000 a month." I had thought Brooke's harshness was meant to temper our daughter's character. That illusion lasted until I asked Brooke for 300 dollars to buy clothes for our daughter's Children's Day performance. What I received instead was humiliation and ridicule from everyone. Brooke accused me of acting like a spoiled rich kid, wasting money on unnecessary clothes. My mother-in-law complained that I dressed too poorly, like a beggar bringing shame to the family. Even my daughter blamed me for embarrassing her, saying I had ruined her Children's Day and damaged her props. I bowed my head, apologized, and paid compensation. Only then did I discover that my bank card had been frozen. The very next moment, Brooke's crush posted on social media about his son receiving a luxury mansion. 'Already a house-owner at three! Who'd believe she's not his birth mother?' Only then did I understand. People who truly loved someone would never be stingy when spending on them.

Frank Carter has been my private driver and personal assistant for the past three years, but lately he has become impossible to deal with. I ask him to pick up fresh seafood for dinner, but he comes back with nothing more than a bag of frozen shrimp and a few sausages. "Frank, didn't I ask you to buy fresh seafood from the market?" He tosses the grocery bag onto the counter and shrugs. "The seafood isn't fresh today. I'll check again tomorrow." The next day, he comes back with a bottle of Worcestershire sauce. "Seafood's expensive," he says with a grin. "This is premium Worcestershire sauce. Just a splash of this, and the food will taste just as good." I sigh. "You don't have to worry about the cost. We can afford to have seafood every now and then." But things only get worse. Over the next week, Frank keeps bringing home cheaper groceries. Soon, seafood disappears from the menu altogether, along with any decent cuts of meat. Just as I'm debating whether to grab a proper meal somewhere, I overhear Frank talking on the phone in the garage. "Lucas Reed is such a loser. He doesn't deserve a wife like Vivian Grant. Once I introduce my son, Mike Carter, to her, she'll dump that freeloader in no time. Mike will take his place soon enough." I almost laugh. I've been planning to renew Frank's contract for another year. I even plan to help his newly graduated son land a job at Vivian's company. Well, not anymore.

On the night Wynnie Moore is done recovering from childbirth, she suddenly brings up the traumatic nightmare that I never wish to revisit. "Actually, the person who imprisoned and assaulted you five years ago was Margaret Silva." Margaret is Logan Jameson's wife, and Logan is the adopted younger brother she raised. My mind goes blank as I blurt, "What?" Wynnie continues as if she's discussing something insignificant. "Back then, Logan found out he was infertile. His mother-in-law never liked him to begin with. To help him secure his position in the Silva family, I agreed to his proposal that you would provide the sperm. "Meanwhile, Margaret had always harbored feelings for you. So..." It turns out the three of them have worked together to imprison and assault me over the course of a few days until Margaret becomes pregnant. I try hard to suppress the nauseous sensation rising in the back of my throat. My lips tremble as I ask shakily, "Why are you telling me this now?" Wynnie lets out a long sigh, as if a burden she's carried for years has finally been lifted. She says, "I've been keeping this a secret for five years. It's exhausting. Also, I've already made up for the child that I once owed you. They say a man takes on a much softer character after becoming a father. Well, that certainly seems to be the case. "You're not losing your temper like you used to. You've finally become calmer and more agreeable." I force a strained and ugly smile. She has no idea that I haven't mellowed down the slightest. It's just that I have a secret that I've never revealed to her too.

My father-in-law, Lawrence Richards, suddenly becomes gravely ill. After seeing the exorbitant medical fees, I call up my wife, Victoria Richards. She doesn't ask questions and instructs her people to transfer five million dollars to my bank account. But even as Lawrence is prepped for surgery, the money doesn't show up. Out in the hospital hallway, I repeatedly call Victoria, but my calls go unanswered. Finally, the 7th call gets connected. "Tori! The surgery's about to start, and Dad's in a lot of pain right now. Please tell the finance department to hurry! He's—" The call gets cut off. I continue to wait. In the end, all I receive is the official death verification from the hospital, confirming that Lawrence has died. I also see a photo of a ridiculously expensive watch that Victoria's assistant, Simon Lewis, uploads to his social media. "I only said that I fancied it, and Ms. Richards gives me five million dollars without any hesitation! Now that's a boss I will happily serve for life." Victoria finally sends me a message. "The finance department needs some time to clear the transaction. Can't your dad just wait a little longer?" I looked at my dad, who was waiting outside the operating room with me. It now occurs to me that Victoria has assumed that it's my dad who died.

My wife is pregnant, and I'm a little worried. Before bed, I scroll through a parenting forum and come across an anonymous post. "My husband won't let me have my male best friend's baby. Is this a serious violation of my reproductive rights?" The poster pours her heart out, each line of the post dripping with self-pity. "My doctor said my progesterone levels are low, my her HCG levels aren't doubling as expected, and the gestational sac is implanted close to the scar tissue from my last surgery. If the pregnancy continues, it could cause massive bleeding and put my life at risk. "That's why my husband refuses to let me continue the pregnancy. But he doesn't understand. This baby is the only reminder my best friend left me. How can I force my husband to willingly raise another man's child?" The comments section is buzzing. Then, one highly upvoted reply makes my blood run cold. "Girl, you can't fight a man like that head-on. You have to destroy his confidence at the root. You should slip something into his drinks that reduces sperm activity. Then, trick him into getting a fertility test. When he sees a diagnosis saying he has a low sperm count, he'll be devastated. "After that, when you tell him that you're determined to give him a child no matter what, he'll be so grateful that he'll worship both you and that baby for the rest of his life!" Staring at the vicious scheme on the screen, I break out in a cold sweat. Just then, my wife walks into the bedroom carrying a warm glass of milk. "Honey, you've been so stressed taking care of me lately. You're even starting to get gray hairs. Here, have a glass of milk."

At a private spa retreat, my husband’s assistant brought me a glass of iced coffee. I was parched and about to drain it when a stream of comments appeared before my eyes. [Drink it, you wicked villainess! The coffee is laced with enough sleeping pills to knock you out. Don’t ruin the leads’ big moment!] [I’m dying. The male lead is sleeping with his sister-in-law right under the villainess’ nose.] [The leads are all over each other in the sauna! This is getting spicy!] Suspicious, I lowered the glass, and the comment stream erupted. [Why isn’t the villainess drinking it?!] Were they calling me the villainess? I glanced toward the sauna, then walked straight over to it. I pulled a floor cushion over, sat down outside the steaming wooden door, and called to a staff member, “Excuse me, could you turn up the heat? I want to sit here and sweat it out.” [What?! No! Our precious leads are going to be cooked alive!]

On our wedding anniversary, I order a cake and wait until midnight. My wife, Hailey Miller, never comes home. Her secretary, Jaxon Preston, sends me photos and messages to show off. "Sorry, it is my birthday today, so your wife is with me. Oh, and she gave me a watch worth 3 million dollars. Hope you don't mind." I reply, "I don't. What matters is you two are happy." Then, I block him. The next second, Hailey calls to scold me. "He is my secretary and does an excellent job. So what if I give him a watch? Is there a need for you to go after him? You narrow-minded loser!" I laugh coldly to myself. How am I narrow-minded? I am actually quite generous. I do not even want a wife I've had for three years anymore—let alone a watch.

I'd been in a secret relationship with Nathan for six years. He said we couldn't go public because of his career. So we always split the bill, and anniversary gifts never cost more than fifteen dollars. The night before our anniversary, I asked him for the sixth time when he'd come home with me to meet my family. He turned me down again. "Ivy, I just think things are moving a little fast. Marriage is a lifetime commitment, after all." So I went home alone, carrying the expensive cheese and wine he'd bought for my mom. I pushed open the door and found the living room trashed. My stepsister Chloe stood there with a smug grin on her face. "Mrs. Mercer, you owe my family a million dollars. You've been stalling long enough. Time to settle up, don't you think?" Years ago, my father had an affair, and Chloe's mother orchestrated the whole thing. My mom ended up saddled with a mountain of debt, and my father took the easy way out with a divorce. When I said nothing, Chloe scoffed, "What's wrong? Don't want to own up to it? "That's fine. My husband happens to be the best lawyer in the city. He's never lost a case. "This is his first year coming home with me for the holidays. Perfect time to show you what 'pay what you owe' really means." I crouched down to shield my mother, the words of protest dying on my lips. The next second, a familiar figure stepped out from behind Chloe. It was Nathan.

At the final meeting before the company's IPO, my wife, who was supposed to give the presentation, was absent. I called her multiple times, but she never answered. Because of her absence, the company lost the bid and became the laughingstock of the industry. Right at that moment, her male best friend uploaded a new post. "It's just a cold. Look at how worried she is." I clicked on it. There was my wife, whom I hadn't seen in days, crouched beside him, fawning over him as she gave him his medicine. I was utterly disappointed. In that moment, the five years we had spent together vanished completely.

When I was little, a car accident left me with a strange ability. I could see how many times I would meet each person in my life. One morning, the number above our neighbor Jenny's head changed to "one." She said hi to me, and by noon, her whole family had moved to England. I never saw her again. When the numbers above my parents' heads changed to "one," their plane crashed that night. I waited, but they never came home. Watching the numbers above the heads of people I knew slowly count down terrified me. Then I met the man who would become my husband, Austin Vance. A bright red "∞" glowed above his head. It meant we'd see each other an infinite number of times. It felt like a silent promise. He'd stay with me until my last breath, until death did us part. For all five years of our marriage, he made me feel safe. He was a mafia boss, but no matter how busy he was with the crew, he always came home on time. Even during secret crew meetings, he'd answer my video calls and tell his men, "Livia is my wife. She's the person I trust most." Then, shortly before my birthday, Austin stayed out all night. When he finally walked in, he reeked of another woman's perfume. The sickly sweet scent turned my stomach. When he saw me frown, he stroked my hair. "It's just the wife of one of my men. A deal ended in a shootout, and her husband was killed. I stayed to help her with the funeral arrangements." The "∞" above his head still glowed bright red, so I told myself not to overthink it. Then one night, Austin didn't get home until almost midnight. The number above his head flickered and changed to "three." In that moment, I knew my marriage to Austin was about to end.

Half an hour before I was to seal a blood bond, my vampire fiance's steward stopped me outside my own bedchamber. "I'm sorry, Your Grace, but your key doesn't fit this lock." His words made my stomach drop. "That's impossible. Crowley Ashbourne handed it to me himself." "According to our records, the bedchamber is currently occupied by Lady Elsa Ashbourne, Lord Crowley's adopted sister. She set a ward over it, and only Lord Crowley's blood seal can open the door." My lady's maid, Marta Bell, went white at the steward's answer. The bonding gown, the moonstone ring, every single thing the ceremony required, all of it was still inside that room. In half an hour, vampire nobles from every territory would be seated in the great hall. And I, the bride, could not even get to my own ceremonial dress. I sent Crowley a blood message at once. He came quickly, but his gaze went first to the closed door. Only after he had sensed that Elsa's aura was steady did he turn to me. "Elsa has spent every day helping us prepare this ceremony. She has only just managed to lie down. Go and get ready in my room. Don't wake her." I looked straight at him as he blocked the doorway. "Crowley, everything we need for the bond is in that room!" "What's the rush? When she wakes up, I'll get everything for you." I didn't argue with him any further. I looked at the clock on the wall and gave him an ultimatum. "You have three more minutes to open this door. Otherwise, there will be no blood bond."

With the start of school approaching, my son's long-dormant parent-teacher group chat suddenly announces that there will be a Parent-Teacher Community Night this evening, which also serves as the first parent-teacher conference of the semester. The only requirement is that both parents need to be present. A flurry of messages from the other students' parents appear below the announcement, all of them confirming their attendance. I'm just about to reply when I notice that someone else has already done it faster than me. A woman with a family photo as her profile picture sends a voice message into the group. "Got it! Teddy's parents will both be there!" I stiffen at once and click through all the accounts in the group chat to double-check everyone. My son's name is Theodore Baird, and everyone calls him "Teddy" for short. But, if she's representing Teddy's parents, then who am I supposed to be? I immediately call up my husband, Joseph Baird. However, before I can even get a word in, I hear him speaking in a cheerful voice. "Darling? Derrick just invited me over for dinner tonight. I'll be bringing Teddy along. You can just have dinner without me and go to bed early." I feel my heart drop to my stomach. Derrick Johnson's wife, Angela Peters, is one of my good friends. However, I clearly remember seeing her showing off a vacation photo of her and Derrick having the time of their lives in the Palmives just this morning. How can Derrick possibly be inviting Joseph over for dinner, then? I remain silent for a short while. Then, I smile and reply that I got it. After hanging up, I immediately call an Uber to bring me to Teddy's school. I'm going to see for myself who this "other parent" of Teddy's really is.

Two years ago, I was the Donna of the Costa family. When I was on my way to attend the family meeting, I was killed by my husband's childhood sweetheart, Isabella Rossi. She shattered my limbs and smashed my belly before throwing me into an abandoned mine pit. It was such a shame that I was pregnant with the heir Matteo Costa had been waiting for the past five years when I died. Not only did Isabella frame me for working with the enemy forces, but she also broke her own legs and claimed that she got hurt from stopping me. Matteo publicly announced that he decided to sever all ties with me. He also placed a bounty on my head. Just like that, I fell from my position as the Costa family's Donna to a traitor who was wanted by all. Two years later, the mine pit collapsed on itself. That was when the workers dug out my rotten corpse.

The male housekeeper turned our entire home upside down. Every woman in the house—my mother, my sister—fell completely under his spell. They gave him everything, even the business my dad had built from the ground up. The betrayal went deeper. My own girlfriend turned on me, stabbing me in the back to win his favor. Their schemes finally went too far. They arranged a "car accident" that took my dad's life and mine. But fate had other plans. We were reborn.

At the police station, the officer turned the tablet around and showed it to me. I stared at the screen and read it a few times. The household registration showed my familial relationship: divorced with a daughter. Daughter's name: Sandy Evans Birthdate: 1st of June, 2019 However, I was a man who had been single my whole life and had never married. "Mr. Evans," the officer began, frowning. "She got lost in the shopping mall. As the girl's parent and guardian, how can you deny she's your daughter?" First of June, 2019. Back then, I was flying all around the world while planning an exhibition. I had spent almost three hundred days in a year in budget hotels and the plastic chairs in airport departure halls. During that International Children's Day, my Grab app's log also showed my tiring trip from the convention center to the Central City International Airport. I barely had time for a girlfriend. How could I have possibly fathered a daughter? Which begged the question: whose daughter was sitting on the bench in the police station as she sobbed?