Plot Twists Short Stories & Hypocrisy Awakening Novels

In my previous life, Timothy Yance's female best friend, Selina Sunther, provoked me during my and Timothy's anniversary dinner. "Rosalie, Timothy got super drunk two days ago, and I was the one who helped him change his underwear. But we're really close buddies, so don't think too much about it." I completely lost my composure at that time, resulting in me hurling my wedding ring away and tearing the marriage certificate into pieces. Later on, I gave up on all of our joint assets just so I could stay away from the shameless pair. In the end, I died in a rehabilitation center located in another country. No one bothered to reach out to me at all. After I got buried, Timothy and Selina worked together to build their business empire. Everyone sang praises about their ethereal love for each other. While people were envious of them for being such a perfect couple, they showed nothing but disdain and mockery toward me when I was mentioned. "Timothy's ex-wife never knew how to appreciate him. No wonder she wasn't worthy of him." When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the night of the anniversary dinner. This time, I just smile serenely at Selina instead of breaking down. Then, I turn to link arms with my male best friend, Calvin Solt, whom I've specifically invited to dinner. I even rest my cheek on his chest. Timothy's expression changes drastically, whereas Selina's smile freezes on her face. Calvin merely smiles faintly before he raises his glass to Timothy as a toast. "Don't misunderstand our relationship, Timothy. Rosalie and I have known each other for 20 years, so we're used to taking care of each other. "Heck, I was also the one taking care of Rosalie the whole time on our first night together, be it in bed or the aftercare."

I'd been spoiled and willful since I was a little girl. Whatever I wanted, I always got. When I was 17, I fell for a blue diamond at an auction. My father had the entire auction house shut down so I could take my time choosing. When I was 22, I fell for Marco Ferrante, the son nobody in the Ferrante family cared about. My father used every resource he had to secure Marco's place as heir to the Ferrante family. As agreed, Marco married me. But in two years of marriage, he never once touched me. Because there was always another woman in his heart. Three years earlier, she'd fallen seriously ill and gone abroad. She returned three years later, on the night of our wedding anniversary. I'd spent a month preparing my gown for our anniversary. I put it on, stepped in front of him, and spoke softly for the first time. "Could you please not go to her tonight?" He pried my fingers loose one by one. There was no warmth in his eyes. "Because of you, I made the wrong choice back then and lost her. "Now she's back. Are you still going to stand in my way?" To him, I was never his wife. Just a mistake he'd made to survive. I watched him walk away and suddenly laughed. "Fine. If our marriage is a mistake, then I'll end it myself."

My best friend Ada felt sorry for my eight-year crush on Theo. So when our wolves recognize each other as mate, Ada simply gave me a pheromone-enhancing herb and sent me to Theo’s bed. Intoxicated by my scent, Theo claimed me like crazy. When I woke up, he coldly agreed to hold the marking ceremony. But shortly after the marking, Theo frequently visited European packs, and stayed away for five years. I raised our son Alex alone, waiting for him at the pack. But he never came come and just told me he didn’t like puppies. Until Alex's birthday party, I saw a video where someone asked him: "Theo, what's your happiest moment?" He replied carelessly: "Last week in Europe, after putting Marcus to sleep, I took Claire to the dining table in the living room." Amidst the whistles and cheers, my hands and feet turned ice cold. Claire was his ex-girlfriend, Marcus was his ex-girlfriend's son. They say he'd been living with them these five years in Europe, so it was all true. I was completely heartbroken, submitted the mate bond dissolution to the Alpha Council, and left North America with my son, erasing our pack registration.

They say Don Julian Marconi would burn the world for one tear of mine. Five years ago, at the Met Gala, he spent millions to hang emeralds around my neck and swore I was his Madonna. Five years later, beneath the velvet boxes of our anniversary, I found a lace strap soaked in sin—and a fresh, crimson smear on his collar that told me exactly whose bed he’d left. I smiled. I asked him to sign a blank sheet of paper. And that meant he was agreeing to whatever I wanted. He called it love. I called it the death warrant for his empire. In fifteen days, I finalized our divorce papers. I boarded the Stella d’Oro as Serena Cole and burned Celeste Marconi to ash on the deck. Then I vanished with his fortune, his power and the one secret that would destroy him. I was the saint he worshipped. Now I am the ghost who haunts him. No groveling. No forgiveness. No second chance. Just ashes.

When the university announced a nine-day break, my roommate started booking their tickets home on their phone while I was busy answering trivia questions on mine. This was my family rule. I had to answer questions to earn my allowance. There were ten questions, and every correct answer would get me $2. There were four levels for the trivia, which were Beginner Level, Intermediate Level, Advanced Level, and Expert Level. I did the trivia for seven years, from high school until my second year of university. One morning, my father, Norm Livingston, texted in the family group chat. [Whoever gets all ten questions correct, I'll pay for the ticket home during Thanksgiving.] I tried hard to suppress my excitement as I focused on answering the questions, but I got one wrong. I texted the results to Norm with clenched teeth and begged, [Dad, the questions this time were really difficult, but I got nine right. The train ticket is only $50. Can you cover it for me?] However, Norm replied right away with a voice note, and he berated me. "The rules are the rules. Look at your brother. He got all ten questions right and won himself the flight ticket. You should work harder to improve your knowledge. Stop thinking about having fun all the time." My younger brother, Ezra Livingston, texted the group with a screenshot of Norm transferring him the money for the ticket. [First-class ticket worth $1,000 to come home to your family.] The text was followed by another text from my older sister, Edith Livingston. [I specially set your questions at Beginner Level for you.] I stared at their texts and looked at my questions, which were at Expert Level, and I called my counselor after that. "Is it too late to submit my application to Gerasia as an exchange student?" I no longer wanted to reunite with my family during Thanksgiving.

At my nephew's college celebration, I ran into my ex-fiancée, whom I hadn't seen in five years. She was dressed to the nines, surrounded by our former classmates. The moment Willow Radcliff saw me, her eyes went red. "You were alive this whole time, Orson. Why didn't you come back to me?" I looked away, wanting to leave. She stopped me and pulled out the engagement ring from years ago. "I sabotaged your college applications three times and forced you to repeat your senior year for three years. And when the fire happened, I chose Gareth over you. I was wrong. "For five years, I've regretted what I did. Now, I want to keep my promise. I want to marry you. Please, give me a chance to make it up to you." She looked at me, silently pleading. Her old classmates immediately started cheering and teasing her. Everyone assumed I would say yes. After all, I'd spent 15 years trying to win Willow over. Even after she sabotaged my college applications three times, I never broke things off with her. But I simply held up my hand, showing her the ring on my finger. "I'm already married."

I was in the parking garage of my Beverly Hills high-rise. And I backed my car into my neighbor's Ferrari. On purpose. I got out, a half-empty bottle of tequila in my hand, right in front of her. "Are you blind? Do you know how much this car costs? Can you even afford to fix it?" She was furious, her face turning red as she whipped out her phone to call 911. I just smirked. "You should probably call them. Get the LAPD down here to arrest me. I'll wait." The first time around, I was the fall guy for my fiancé, Grant, and his sister, Blair. They got high at some Hollywood party, went joyriding, and killed an innocent valet. But the car was my Porsche. And they swore I was the one driving. I rotted in a California state prison for ten years. The shock killed my mom. A heart attack. When I got out, they weren't done. They forged offshore debts to drain my trust fund and drove me to suicide. I woke up 24 hours before it all happened again.

A few days before my postpartum period ended, I found two plane tickets to Mirelia tucked inside Daryl’s wallet. I was secretly delighted. I thought he had planned a surprise for me. But on the very day I was supposed to recover, he told me that his company had suddenly sent him on a business trip. I tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep—only to see his first love post on social media. [Finally fulfilled our promise to kiss at Saint Vyron Cathedral. Thank you, God. After all this time, it’s still you.] The photo showed the two of them holding hands and kissing. I didn’t confront him right away. Instead, I turned to look at my sleeping daughter beside me, then picked up my phone. [Dad, I've made up my mind. I'll take over the family business.]

I was secretly married to Conrad, our company's CEO, for three years. When a photo of us walking out of a house together in the morning was leaked, I called 911 right in front of all the employees. "Officer, the CEO of this company raped me!" I did this because in my previous life, he had sworn to me: "The company is at a critical funding stage. The investors value my image as a highly eligible bachelor. To get this multimillion-dollar lifeline, we just have to compromise a little and hide our relationship from the public." I was soft-hearted back then. I thought the pressure of managing the company was too much for him, so I agreed. But what I got in return was his young assistant, Ivy, spreading rumors that I was a vain, money-hungry woman who had seduced my boss for his fortune. Then she launched a massive online smear campaign, painting me as a shameless opportunist and turning the entire office against me. In the end, I was pushed to the breaking point. Targeted as a toxic gold digger, I was intentionally run over and killed by a crazed hater. Ironically, after my death, Conrad refused to press charges against the online mob. Then he easily slipped a wedding ring onto Ivy's finger. Now, opening my eyes again, I found myself back on the morning we were secretly photographed leaving the house together.

My husband was tall and handsome, but he had no money to pay his debts. During the five years of our marriage, I sold my house and car for him. We then moved to a dark and humid basement that was only 300 square feet in size. When I got pregnant, I wanted to go for checkups, but he said that there was no need for it, as it was a waste of money. So I gave birth to a baby with a congenital heart condition. In order to get the money for his surgery, I worked three jobs every day. At that time, I noticed that my husband bought a mansion worth 40 million dollars for an influencer, and I finally realized that my husband was no orphan, but the son of the richest man in the country.

I was the only granddaughter of Don Elias Colin. From the day I was born, I was the Colin family's sole heir. But I'd loved art since I was little. I had no interest in the arms trade or drug deals. My grandfather had no choice but to ask my cousin Ron to run the family business for me. Every year on January first, I personally renewed his appointment as underboss with the family seal. For ten years, I shut myself away in my studio and painted. I never once looked at the books. I just stamped whatever he brought me without a second thought. Eventually, everyone thought the family seal was just a toy to keep me happy. Then Ron said he wanted to marry Morwen Locke. The Locke family opposed the match until I sent them a complete set of one-of-a-kind jewels. I was happy for Ron. As wedding gifts, I gave the couple jewelry and assets worth tens of millions, and on top of that, I gave Morwen ten properties around the world. The day after the wedding, she sold every one of them. She also froze my bank card. Then she threw a file at me. "Here are all the bills you've run up over the years. Ninety million euros in total. "Write me an IOU. "You'll leave the Colin family sooner or later. You can't expect your cousin to support you forever." I looked at the IOU and gave a cold laugh. Seriously? She doesn't actually think the Colin family belongs to Ron just because he's run things for me for ten years, does she? His position as underboss existed only because I renewed it with the family seal, one year at a time. What a coincidence. January first was just around the corner. This year, I didn't feel like stamping it for him.

I was getting a spa treatment at a beauty salon when Phoebe called. "I just saw Derrick buying jewelry for a woman at the mall." "Got it." "Aren't you going to catch him in the act?" "No need." I gave birth three months ago. After the spa, I needed to hit the gym, and by five, I had to pick up William. I had no time for this nonsense.

My husband and I take leave from work to travel to Highland. It's also an opportunity for me to return to my hometown. Unexpectedly, we get into a fight over the itinerary on our first day there. I snap at him when we're standing by the side of the road, but he calms me down. He even coaxes me and offers to pay for a nice meal at a restaurant. When I return to the hotel, I discover that he's run off with my luggage and mobile phone. He even leaves a message telling me to reflect on my mistakes. I borrow a phone to call him, but he doesn't answer. It's freezing in Highland. I'm almost about to die from the frost when I suddenly see sense. I'm not putting up with this anymore!