Plot Twists Short Stories & Hypocrisy Face Slapping Novels

My mother-in-law, Kate Irwin, has a hood over her head and a time bomb strapped to her body. Ten seconds are left. My husband, Sean Quimby, could have saved his mother. As Efton's top bomb disposal expert, Sean could cut the right wire without breaking a sweat. Instead, he hands the wire cutters—the tool that will decide whether Kate lives or dies—to his sobbing intern, Yara Gibson. I watch as Yara cuts the wrong wire. The timer hits zero. A wall of flames engulfs Kate. The blast wave slams into me, but Sean's first instinct is to pull Yara into his arms. He even turns his back to shield her from the flying debris, gently soothing her. "Don't be afraid. I'm here." He doesn't even spare a glance at the charred remains behind him. Only after calming Yara does he finally turn to me. He sheds a few tears and says, "Wendy, I'm sorry. I couldn't save Dahlia." My mother, Dahlia Green, is overseas, enjoying the sun and beach. She sent me a photo just moments ago. So I put on a sympathetic face and comfort him, "It's okay." After all, my mother isn't the one who died.

Robert Schmidt's company is on the verge of bankruptcy. He decides to get a divorce from me in order to not drag me down. I refuse to divorce him. Since then, I work during daytime and take on part-time jobs at night just so I can help Robert tide over the financial crisis. Heck, I even work eight jobs per day. But when I head over to Robert's company to seek him out with the money that I've painstakingly gathered, I accidentally overhear his conversation with his assistant, Ellie Gordon. "Robert, when are you going to divorce that hag? I can't wait any longer!" "I didn't know she'd be this hard to shake off! I already lied to her about my bankruptcy, and yet she still refused to divorce me!" Only then do I find out that Robert isn't bankrupt at all. He's just pretending to be bankrupt so that he can divorce me and give Ellie a proper title by his side. I end up dying from an aneurysm that gets triggered from my overwhelming fury. After my death, Robert has the gall to use the money I've worked so hard in earning on buying Ellie jewelry and a house. Later on, they have a whirlwind marriage and live happily ever after. As for me, I don't even get laid to rest in a proper graveyard. My corpse is left rotting somewhere unknown. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Robert pretends to be bankrupt. This time, I sign the divorce agreement without hesitation. On top of that, I also apply for a patent before reporting Robert's company for infringing my copyright on the products. Since he likes pretending to be bankrupt that much, I might as well make his wish come true!

When Lilian, a company janitor, discovered an abandoned infant in the restroom, she took my daughter and me to court. In the courtroom, she had screamed in frustration and rage, “Gabrielle’s daughter is nothing but a cheap tramp! “She toyed with my son like a fallback guy. After that, she got pregnant, refused to take responsibility, and dumped that baby in a restroom like it was garbage. That was a living, breathing human being! “Those two women are cold, heartless monsters!” Lilian’s son, Raymond, looked like a pure-hearted lover who had been toyed with and said with teary eyes, “Trinity slept with anyone who gave her the time of day. I looked the other way while hoping she’d eventually be mature and settle down. “But who knew she’d be ruthless enough to kill her own baby?! She’s a monster!” The live broadcast of the trial immediately exploded with outrage. [These rich people are absolutely disgusting! How could they give birth and throw the baby in the trash like that?!] [That’s child abandonment! She belongs in prison!] There were plenty of harsh comments. However, everyone was completely stunned when I produced Trinity’s medical examination report.

After spending six months overseas expanding business, I had just closed a deal worth ten billion. Casually scrolling through the news, a headline made me stop dead in my tracks. [Shocking! Illegitimate Daughter Provokes Meyer Family Heiress, Teacher and Classmates Punish Her!] In the video, my daughter Maeve stood in the freezing snow wearing nothing but a tattered dress, her body covered in bruises. She was being forced to endure the cold, her little frame shivering uncontrollably. A female teacher poked at Maeve's head, ordering the entire class to call her a shameless illegitimate child. Maeve sobbed, insisting she wasn't, but all she got in return was crueler, more mocking laughter from everyone around her. Then a chubby little boy ran up and slapped her across the face. "Your mom's a mistress, and you're a filthy illegitimate child! You're both just gutter rats!" The teacher didn't stop him—she clapped her hands in approval. "That's right! The Meyer family heir isn't something just any nobody gets to pretend to be." "Besides, Mrs. Meyer picks up Clarisse every single day. Look at her—so elegant, clearly classy. And your homewrecker of a mother? Pathetic. She's not even in the same league." When I heard that last line, I slammed my laptop shut, shaking with rage. I turned to my assistant. "Book me the fastest private jet home. I want to see for myself exactly when Aaron, that worthless husband of mine, managed to father an illegitimate child."

After scoring high on the college entrance exams, I used my brother, Cameron Morrow’s laptop to look up dresses for my university acceptance party. Just as I was about to close his chat app that had been automatically logged in, a group chat notification suddenly popped up on the screen. "Naomi’s been in a bad mood lately. Let’s go somewhere with her for a few days and come back before Stella’s party." Something in my chest tightened, so I clicked into the chat without thinking. There were only four people inside: Dad, Mom, Cameron, and my cousin, Naomi Gibson. Then Cameron replied, "Fine. Just don’t bring Stella. I’m sick of her. If she hadn’t hidden Naomi’s exam admission ticket on the last day, Naomi wouldn’t have failed the exams." Mom quickly responded, "I never thought Stella would stoop that low just to fight for attention. Good thing she still did well on the exams. I heard reporters from the local station are coming to interview her at the party. The relatives are all desperate to attend." Then Dad sent a voice message. "Oh, right, isn’t Naomi trying to become an influencer? Tell her to dress up nicely that day." I stared at the glowing screen, my nails digging hard into my palm. Then suddenly, I laughed. Picking up my phone, I called my homeroom teacher, Ms. Adrianna Wilson. "Ms. Wilson, I’m canceling the party. And please cancel the media interview too."

When I got reborn into my youthful years, I turned down the marriage proposal of Seth Klein, the future major general. Instead, I chose to be with Nathan Prescott, who lived a poor life. My mother thought I was possessed. After all, the entire village knew that I, the village chief's daughter, used to follow the well-educated Mr. Klein around all the time. Apparently, I was willing to do anything just to marry him. I soon recalled what happened in my previous life. After I married Seth, we never consummated our marriage. He even brought back a child, claiming that said child belonged to a fellow soldier who had passed on in the war. I viewed the child as my own and made an effort to raise him. It wasn't until our fiftieth anniversary that I discovered a secret after barging into Seth's study, which had always been forbidden to me. It turned out that the study was plastered with photos of my older cousin, Catherine Parker—the most beautiful woman in the village. The thing was, she had been dead for a long time. The truth was, Seth has always been capable of performing in bed. He was merely practicing abstinence because of Catherine. Furious, I collapsed and was admitted to the hospital. But my son, whom I treated as my own, was the one who unplugged my life support with his own hands. "If it weren't for you taking over my mom's position as the actual wife, she wouldn't have died as an unknown mistress!" After my death, I witnessed Seth getting a joint burial with Catherine as husband and wife. As for my ashes, they were randomly scattered into a dried-up river. Now that I was reborn, I chose to fulfill their wish!

I have a secret. When I was a child, I became very sick. When I finally woke up, I realized I could see the true colors hidden in people's hearts. Candy pink meant tenderness. Magenta meant desire. Pale gold meant longing for something you could never have. Slate blue meant lies. Dark brown meant hurt and resentment. At our engagement party, when my fiancé, Luca Vitali, kissed me, I saw the room fill with soft candy pink. But a second later, a wave of vivid magenta rushed in and swallowed the pink completely. I looked up in shock. His arms were around me, but his eyes were fixed on someone at the far end of the banquet hall. It was his childhood sweetheart, Charlotte. I thought it was just my imagination, until he pulled Charlotte into a dressing room. He kissed the side of Charlotte's neck. "After the wedding, I'll send Nicole overseas. You know I'm only marrying her because I promised my father. Please, Charlotte. You're the only one I want to be with." After five years of loving him, I finally realized I had been nothing more than a stepping stone to him. I turned around, canceled the wedding, and vanished into the rainy night. From that moment on, I would be someone they could never hope to reach.

It's the night before the college entrance exam. I pack and move out on the same day because I have already been admitted to Starward University through the guaranteed admission program. I also give all my notes and almost-new belongings to my roommate, Sonya Bradshaw, who's from a poorer family. For the past three years, I'd practically covered all of her living expenses, fed her yummy food every day, and even let her come along to my expensive extra tuition classes for free. Sonya has already turned to leave the dorm as I am leaving. However, she suddenly stops in her footsteps and turns to look at me. I assume that she's just going to say something mushy about parting with me, but to my surprise, she says something rather strange instead. "I think you should attend the college entrance exam tomorrow." I chuckle. "I've already received the direct admission letter from Starward University. Why would I still need to sit for the exam?" She presses her lips together and looks like she's caught in a dilemma for a while. Finally, she says slowly, "The real admission letters have an 11-digit security code on them. "I think you should count how many digits yours has."

An earthquake suddenly hits the company. I rush into my girlfriend's office, only to find it completely empty. I cover my head and frantically call her phone over and over. Suddenly, someone grabs my arm and leads me through the emergency exit. I look up and see my girlfriend, Leona Sampson. Her blouse is torn, and a man's suit jacket is draped over her shoulders. Her cheeks are flushed, and her legs are trembling. "Where were you just now?" I ask, my eyes burning red. Among the crowd, I spot a shirtless man. He's holding the scarf I gave my girlfriend. I recognize him. It's Matt Ryder, the new intern at the company. It suddenly hits me that the woman who claims to love me deeply is cheating on me. I quietly call my best friend, Ryan Duffman. "I'm in. I'll go abroad with you. Let's start our own business."

I find a slip of paper on the back of a flyer I'm holding during the first day of club recruitment. It says that the president of the dance club, Donna Shaw, will announce in front of more than 100 people that I'm pregnant. She's got everything ready—ultrasound reports, hospital records, and even eyewitnesses. Henry Baker, her boyfriend and president of the Student Activities Board, will step in to save the day in front of everyone. Consequently, the whole school will condemn me, and I will be expelled. I stare at the paper, wondering what kind of lame prank this is. I turn the paper over. The smile on my face fades when I see that the handwriting is identical to my own. I slip the paper into my pocket. At 3:00 pm, I make my way past the dance club's booth. The second I stop, Donna points at my stomach, her eyes red. "We don't accept people with no morals… I saw it. Your belly is already showing." Everyone looks at me, and someone gasps. I look down at my completely flat stomach, then back at her. I smile. My voice isn't loud, but everyone can hear me. "I'm pregnant? Are you sure about that? "I'm a guy. Tell me. How exactly did the baby get inside me?"

On the day I return to court in triumph, my fiancee, Isabel Hartwell, welcomes me at the city gates. My career is flourishing, and I'm about to marry the woman I love. As far as I'm concerned, my life can't be more perfect. A victory banquet is held in my honor. By the time I'm pleasantly buzzed, Isabel's mother, Katherine Mercer, raises her glass to me with a smile. "Nicholas, my daughter has waited three long years for you. Now, you're finally back!" The entire room bursts into laughter. My ears burn as I search for Isabel through the crowd of guests raising their glasses. She lowers her head, trying to hide her smile. Perhaps sensing my gaze, she looks up. Our eyes meet, and hers crinkled with delight. My heart skips a beat. I quickly lower my head and take a drink to hide my embarrassment, only to nearly choke on it. My fellow soldiers immediately begin teasing me. Even my younger half-brother, Stephen Aldridge, leans over with a smile. "Congratulations, Nicholas. You'll soon be the Hartwells' son-in-law. When you make it to the top, don't forget to help me out." I ruffle his hair, warmth filling my chest. My career is thriving, the woman I love will soon be my wife, and I share a close bond with my family. What more can I possibly ask for? Then, I look up and freeze. A golden prophecy appears out of nowhere, hovering in midair. "In two hours, Stephen will be found lying beside Isabel with his clothes in disarray. Everyone will catch them in a compromising position. Isabel will be forced to marry Stephen, and she'll eventually succumb to depression and die." I sober instantly as a chill sweeps through me. After all, Stephen is none other than my younger half-brother, who has just raised a toast to me.

My car broke down on the road, so I took off my jacket, popped the hood, and started checking the problem right there at the curb. A brand new convertible swung in and stopped in front of me, close enough to make a point. My ex-wife Sarah got out on the arm of a man in a tailored suit, one hand clamped over her nose in disgust. "Leo, all these years since the divorce and you're still a bottom-rung mechanic who reeks of motor oil." I wiped the grease off my hands. I could not be bothered to explain that this limited-edition supercar was one I had picked up brand new. When I stayed quiet, Sarah shoved a screenshot of her trading profits in my face. "See that? David got me into a tech stock. One day of gains beats everything you'll make fixing cars in a lifetime!" David Ashford looked down at me, his voice thick with contempt. "Sarah, what's the point of talking investing with a mechanic? He can't even read a price chart. "A mystery fund is buying this stock in batches. I'm already in at four-to-one leverage. I'm about to be set for life." Sarah laughed and threw a few bills onto my open hood. "Here's a tip. Buy yourself a decent coffee and stop cluttering up the view." I looked at the scattered bills, then at the ticker symbol on the screenshot. I knew that one well, and I smiled. That tech company's rally was nothing but a bull trap staged by a fund looking for cover while it unloaded its shares. Anyone still in it would be wiped out. I took out my phone and calmly sent a message to my trader. "We're up thirty percent. Sell it all."

In Reychelle City, a contest was held to crown the most beautiful woman. After my cousin scarred my face, she seized first place with ease. What she never expected was that this year's contest wasn't for fame; it was to select the future wife of the Third Prince, a ruthless, bloodthirsty eunuch. That very afternoon, gifts poured in by the cartload. My betrothed panicked. That night, he tore up our engagement contract and carried my cousin into the bridal chamber. The next day, she trailed her lacquered fingertips across my cheek and sneered, "Alicia, with your ruined face, who would ever want you? Perhaps the beggar at the street corner might take you in." I caught her wrist, let out a cold laugh, and said, "Who told you I would marry a beggar?" Before her stunned eyes, I pushed open my parents' chamber doors. "Mom, since Maggie doesn't wish to be the prince's consort… let me take her place." Three years later, before the eyes of a shocked court, the Third Prince entered the grand hall with me at his side, with two children in tow. No one had foreseen it. This body of mine, blessed with the rarest gift of fertility, was the perfect match for a man believed incapable of siring heirs.

I was the ultimate Cinderella: a girl who married into a wealthy family. A drone proposal captivated the whole city. After the wedding, I was showered with designer goods, and my in-laws gave me a million dollars a month in spending money. My best friend, Sasha Lane, married the poorest man. She counted every penny, while her husband came home drenched in sweat from the construction site each day. Her eyes often filled with tears as she said, "Shayla, I wish I could have a life like yours." I smiled and said nothing. Then she made a wish to the genie in a magic lamp, and we really did swap souls. She cried as she apologized to me. "I'm sorry. I can't bear living with a man like him in that tiny, run-down apartment. I can't bear going to the market every day to pick through vegetables no one else wants." At the end, she was smiling. "But you're different, Shayla. You're just an orphan. You don't deserve a life like this." With that, she climbed into the luxury car without looking back. I stood where I was and laughed until I cried. She didn't know I spent every day on my knees with a dog bowl in front of me. She didn't know my husband slept around, or that I'd contracted HIV. And she had no idea I couldn't spend a cent from that million-dollar bank card. I wiped away my tears and walked toward the 215-square-foot rental she was so desperate to escape. I opened the door. A plate of spaghetti sat on the table, still steaming.

At the ceremony where my mother, Helena Marlow, received the Best Homeroom Teacher award, the parents wept with gratitude. They praised her for nurturing the students successfully without ever resorting to harsh discipline, and for helping them all to excellent results. But no one knew that the path to their children’s success had been paved by Mom, using me as a warning to others. When someone in the class stole money, cheated on an exam, or got into a romantic relationship, I was the one punished. During the ceremony, the principal, Ms. Wanda Ambrose, stepped onto the stage to present her award. She asked, “Ms. Marlow, you have so many outstanding students in your class. Which student are you most proud of?” Mom smiled with quiet pride. “They are all like my own children. I love every one of them.” Then she let out a small sigh. “Except for my daughter. She alone fails to live up to expectations and disappoints me every time.” Laughter and applause rose from the audience below the stage. They nodded in understanding and praised her for being so modest. I drifted to her side and looked at the satisfied curve of her lips before speaking softly. “Don’t worry, Mom. From now on, I won’t disappoint you anymore.”

On my birthday, my boyfriend Heath Merrick sent me a transfer of 200 dollars, same as always. The note read: [Birthday gift for Macy. Too busy lately, so I won't be around to celebrate with you.] A second later, I saw a message my best friend, Kyra Donnelly, had accidentally sent to our four-person group chat. [Fourth birthday we've spent together! Thank you, Brody and Heath, for the gifts!] The photo attached was a cake topper, a miniature figurine made of two ounces of solid gold. Less than a minute after the message appeared, my brother, Brody Lawton and also the group admin, deleted it for her. He tried to cover it up by flooding the chat with a string of GIFs, then casually typed a new message as if nothing had happened. [It's Kyra's and Macy's birthday today. Let's go eat at Sorelli's? Kyra's been wanting to try their food for ages, and I just managed to snag a reservation.] Before I could even respond, my boyfriend and my best friend had already sent back thumbs-up stickers in perfect sync. I quietly deleted the half-typed message that read: [Their food is too spicy for me.] I sent a thumbs-up sticker of my own. The front door opened, and all three of them appeared in the doorway together. Brody rushed me. "Hurry up, everyone's waiting for you!" Heath frowned. "Stop dawdling. We'll lose the reservation." No one mentioned the message Kyra had accidentally posted. I looked at the three of them, at how naturally my brother and my boyfriend stood on either side of Kyra. One of them was weighed down with shopping bags full of clothes she had bought. The other had both hands full of her snacks and drinks. The whole thing suddenly felt completely pointless. I unlocked my phone and sent a message to my advisor: [Professor, I've decided to accept the exchange program abroad.]

On her wedding day, my adopted daughter, Sophie Bennett, runs off after transferring the 300-thousand-dollar down payment her fiance, Ethan Carter, has saved for their new home. A few days earlier, while sorting through her old belongings, she discovers her adoption papers. After reading too many stories about domineering billionaires and runaway heirs, she is convinced that she is the long-lost biological daughter of a billionaire. Determined to reclaim her place among the elite and marry a powerful man, she steals the down payment and spreads lies online, accusing her adoptive parents of imprisoning and abusing her. It isn't until my biological daughter appears before me that I realize the "powerful man in the country" she has eloped with is only the beginning of this whole mess.

When the kiss cam swept across the stands at the baseball stadium Warren Doyle, a married investor in the league, had his arms around his PR director and was kissing her. The two of them went up on the jumbotron, and the crowd erupted in hoots and cheers. Warren stormed into the camera bay and demanded I hand over my camera. I told him the camera pointed wherever the control room told it to. He stared at me for a few seconds, then suddenly let go and let me leave. I thought that was the end of it. The next day, audio from the crew channel shot to the top of the news feeds, with nothing left in it but two ambiguous lines from me. "Camera locked on row seven. Keep rolling. Don't cut." Overnight I became the shameless camera operator who'd filmed them on purpose. I was suspended from my job, my father's food cart was trashed, and Warren sued me for a million dollars. But he didn't know that the recording he was using to convict me could only ever convict him.

At the party, my daughter deliberately raises a question to my husband. "Daddy, since Ms. Lloyd is having your baby, does that mean we'll be living with her in the future?" He places the nicely cut steak onto my plate and answers softly, "Your mommy and I made a deal—whoever betrays first will disappear from the other's life. I can't afford for that to happen, darling, so this must stay a secret. Even when the baby is born, I will never let Mommy find out about them." Then, he signs to me, "I'll always love you." My eyes turn red-rimmed without him noticing. Little does he know, my hearing was restored a week ago. He doesn't realize I've learned about the mistress he's been hiding either. And he definitely doesn't know I've secretly bought a ticket to volunteer-teach in the Seru Plateau. All I have to do is wait for the paperwork to clear in seven days. Then, I'll disappear from his life for good.

On matriculation day, I carried my acceptance letter to the campus grounds to register alone. But before I could cross the threshold, the guards drove me back into the street with their anti-riot forks. Humiliated and bewildered, I reached for my phone to call my childhood friend, Daisy Reid. A sharp laughter rippled through the receiver. “Violet, are you truly that blind behind those glasses? The letter you swept off the desk was a forgery I mocked up. Your actual one is still sitting at home.” Panicked, I hastily booked a return ticket and hurried back to search for my letter. I scoured the house for hours, turning up nothing. Just then, Daisy’s personalized ringtone sang out from my palm. “Stop looking. “Bryan has it. He’s over at Millfield now.” Without a moment’s hesitation, I boarded the train to Millfield. But the second I stepped out onto the platform, a video call from Daisy flashed onto my display. “You gullible fool, did you genuinely travel all that way to hunt down Bryan? “It was just a joke. “Truth be told, the guards didn’t chase you off because of a counterfeit letter. I tipped them off that you were hauling concealed explosives…” She swung the phone around, showing Bryan Hawke, another childhood friend, who was dotingly fanning her with a brochure. Directly behind them stood my brother Harry, who was supposedly halfway across the globe on an extended getaway. “Hey Violet, what’s with the face? Learn to take a joke for once,” he teased with a chuckle. I could not move an inch. Turned out his elaborate cover story of an overseas holiday was nothing more than a ruse to escort Daisy to her new college. Gazing at the three laughing faces, something dawned on me. Their cruel entertainment, paid for with my dignity for eighteen years, had run its course.