Plot Twists Short Stories & Hypocrisy Karma Novels

I am in the middle of hosting an international conference when my younger sister, Aubrey Keller, suddenly calls me. She is sobbing over the phone as she says, "Aster, my spot in the student exchange program was taken away…" I immediately rush over to Aubrey's university campus. She's cornered in the teachers' office, her eyes brimming with tears. A young girl with punk flair is standing in front of Aubrey, gesturing at her with disdain. "Trying to fight for the spot against me, are you? I'm the heiress to the Keaton family in Centuria. "My father even funded an entire laboratory building for the university! Who do you think you are?" A teacher standing to the side is also adding fuel to the fire. "Aubrey, Ophelia's father is one of this university's key funders. Why don't you just let this go this time so we can all move on?" I'm about to rebuke the two when I hear the phrase 'heiress to the Keaton family.' Keaton family from Centuria? Since when did my father, Tristan Keaton, have another daughter besides Aubrey and me? I immediately call Tristan's number and ask coldly, "Dad, when did you cheat on Mom and sire another daughter behind her back?"

I live alone. At eleven o'clock on a rainy night, an unexpected call came through. The voice on the other end said my car window was left open and urged me to go downstairs. Cautious as a woman should be, I didn't act rashly. Instead, I called the property security office, only to discover that even the security was fake. It hit me suddenly—I was ensnared in a vast conspiracy. Someone was orchestrating all of this. But for what purpose?

On my third day at the company, my supervisor suddenly patted me on the head. “Anna! I saw you won the lottery! I’m giving you a chance to make a good impression. The day after tomorrow, I’ll get everyone together for a private party aboard the luxury yacht Black Pearl. It’ll be your treat, of course!” Before I could even decline, Sarah was already rattling on. "There are over a dozen people in our department. We'll need at least ten bottles of XO, Australian and Boston lobster for everyone to pick from, and we all need terrace suites." “You can afford a little thing like that, can’t you, Miss Moneybags?” I frantically tried to explain that the ticket was one I'd bought for someone else. I didn't have any money at all. But Sarah just shot me a look of pure contempt and walked away. That night, the work group chat exploded. She announced to the entire group, "To celebrate Anna winning the lottery, we're having a blowout bash on the Black Pearl the night after tomorrow! Everyone sign up!" Over fifty people jumped on the list within seconds. Even the cleaning lady signed up with her three grandchildren in tow. "Oh my God, our parties are usually just drinking beer in someone's apartment. We've never been on a luxury yacht! Thank you, Sarah!" Sarah's private message came through. "Anna, I noticed the account you used to claim the lottery ends in 0663. The club booking is already confirmed. We're counting on you, Miss Moneybaaags~" I stared at the booking screenshot she sent, breaking into a cold sweat. That lottery ticket was one I'd claimed on behalf of the company's CEO!

During the Thanksgiving holiday, my mother-in-law Mary came to visit us from Ohio. I took her to my husband Liam's new spa in Manhattan, Apropos. We enjoyed a basic facial treatment together, which I had purchased for $9.90 on an e-commerce platform. Right after the treatment, the beautician slapped a high-priced package down in front of us. She glanced at us contemptuously and said: "Do you really think you can enjoy our premium services with a $9.90 coupon?Stop kidding. You two look like you’re here to freeload. A single facial here costs thousands of dollars. This isn’t some free trial for cheapskates like you." I suppressed my anger and said coldly: “We have already paid for the basic treatment. How can you call this taking advantage for free?. Go get your manager.” A flashy woman walked over. Her arms were crossed. She looked down her nose at us. “I’m the Boss lady of this place.You and this old hag are just trying to get something for free, aren’t you? Let me be clear. You're buying this five-thousand-dollar hydration treatment today. Or you're not walking out that door.” A five-thousand-dollar hydration treatment? So this was it. This was why Liam suddenly got into the beauty industry. He didn't open a spa. He opened a scam shop to bankroll his mistress. I was about to call Liam, but she beat me to it, dialing a number. “Darling, you need to get down to the spa, right now. I've got a couple of hicks from the sticks making a scene, trying to get free services!”

I find cigarette ashes on the passenger seat of my wife's car. She brushes me off, saying, "My new assistant left it there. He's not the most sensible." When I ask for a divorce, she stares at me in disbelief. "Just because of that?" "Yeah. Just because of that!"

Our pack’s pups were born with weakened wolf spirits. I paid for their treatment out of my own pocket, only for their mothers to drag me online.They accused me of using the free wolf treatment I provided for their pups to test serums on children from the contaminated zone, making poor families' pups bear the risk for Alpha pups. What they didn't know was that the pack was badly contaminated. Without treatment, those pups would die. To save their wolves, I brought in the best healers and used the best medication and treatment protocols. Care cost more than eight thousand dollars per pup every month, all of it out of my own pocket. Now the entire internet was accusing me of experimenting on pups and doing the Alpha elite's dirty work. So I made up my mind and sent a pack-wide announcement: "In response to the mothers' request for autonomy over their children's treatment, Moonbridge will suspend the free wolf treatment program, effective immediately." "Starting today, eligible wolf moms will receive a monthly childcare subsidy of two hundred dollars." The moment the announcement went out, every one of them lost it. Now they were all crowded outside my office, begging me not to stop.

At my wedding, a video of my fiancé cheating was exposed. I didn't make a scene; just turned around and walked away, left him to clean up the mess himself. I went back to my room and kissed my younger boyfriend. We were halfway through when we got interrupted. My fiancé stormed in, face red with shame and rage. "Is this really the time? All you can think about is kissing?" I smacked my lips, still savoring the moment. "Weren't you the one who introduced us?"

Just because I accidentally broke my adopted sister’s bracelet, my brother threw me into the black market to “learn my lesson.” By the time I was rescued, I had been tortured so brutally that I was barely recognizable. It was Elijah York who risked his own life to pull me out of that hellhole. When we finally escaped, his blood had soaked my clothes, yet he held me tightly against his chest and whispered that he would never regret it. For three years after that, I drifted between moments of clarity and bouts of pure madness. I despised myself, constantly feeling dirty and broken, but Elijah always treated me like a princess. Until this day, my mind was, for once, clear. Caressing the tiny new life I had just discovered growing inside my womb, I was overflowing with joy as I hurried to surprise him. However, right outside his office door, I overheard a conversation between him and my brother. “Did you actually catch feelings after playing a part for so long? Don’t forget that in three months, it will be the optimal window for Chloe’s bone marrow transplant.” Elijah let out a low, amused scoff, his tone indifferent. “I’ve been drugging Nora for three years. Everyone thinks she’s completely lost her mind by now. Legally, she is my wife, and I hold full guardianship over her. That’s the only way the bone marrow extraction process remains completely legal and compliant.” I froze right where I stood, the blood freezing in my veins.

"Tap more ash into his cup. He needs to understand this isn't the place for an idiot like him." I went to the break room at lunch to fill my water bottle. The second I walked in, I saw Santo and his crew gathered around my mug, ruining it. Ash coated the rim, and cigarette butts floated in the coffee. The sight turned my stomach. My folder lay on the floor with a few black boot prints across it. Santo raised an eyebrow when he saw me. "Good. You saw it. We don't feed idiots here. Go back where you came from. "You've got one week to leave on your own. After that, I have plenty of ways to make you disappear." I said coldly, "You don't call the shots at these docks." Tony, Santo's right-hand man, laughed, pulled out a gun, and tapped it against my temple once, then again. "You'll find out soon enough whether my word means anything. "You crossed Santo, and you still think you can stay? Dream on!" The others sneered, and every one of them slammed a shoulder into mine on the way out. I watched them go and smiled a little. They have no idea who I really am. And they certainly don't know that one word from me is all it would take to make Santo disappear from this world.

On the day the zombie outbreak occurs, I tell my boyfriend, Valerio Petrucci, to come over and hide in my apartment, where my front door is already reinforced. Soon, sounds of the door being knocked can be heard. I'm about to get up when transparent comment bubbles appear in front of my eyes. "Don't open the door! Valerio isn't the only one out there—there are a bunch of loan sharks with him as well!" "One of them is already infected with the zombie virus and is about to turn into a zombie!" "You'll die if you let them in!" Someone knocks on the door once again at that moment.

On college decision day, everyone at Westcreek High was talking about valedictorian Shawn Jamison. The hopeless romantic had turned down Velmont University for a less prestigious college that offered a huge scholarship! The school administrators were so furious that they immediately tore down the poster celebrating Shawn as the school's top student. Shawn didn't care. He was busy working part-time at a local club, hauling cases of beer. Once he finished his shift that night, his wages and scholarship money would be enough to cover college tuition for him and his girlfriend, Jenna Sharp. A moment later, several familiar voices came from behind him. They sounded like Jenna's closest friends. "Come on, hurry up! Jenna told us to set up a surprise for her boyfriend in the club's VIP room upstairs tonight." Shawn froze, and his heart pounded. No wonder Jenna said she had plans tonight. She was planning a surprise for him.

My cousin, Monica Newman, turned down a blind date with a rich guy and insisted on marrying a broke kid instead. She begged me to steal her papers from my aunt so that she could get her way, yet two years after the wedding, she ended up killing me. She said it was all my fault that she had married an average guy and spent every day stressing about money. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the same day Monica was to meet that rich guy for the blind date. This time, I told her, "How do you know he's wrong for you if you won't even give him a try?" Since she blamed me for ruining her dream of marrying into money in my last life, this time, I would give her exactly what she wanted.

On my wedding day, my fiancé’s childhood sweetheart arrived, wearing the exact same custom wedding dress as me. They stood together, greeting guests, while I smiled and praised them as a match made in heaven. Humiliated, she left the venue in tears. In her defense, my fiancé publicly accused me of being petty and unreasonable. After the wedding reception, he left with her for the honeymoon we had planned together. I didn’t cry. Instead, I called my lawyer immediately.

A rich kid offers to pay anyone who'll be his companion to a ball ten thousand dollars. My roommate stops me from responding. "He's just a rich guy fishing for fun—he's using money to play around with women! Are you going to offer yourself to him for money? We can't be gold diggers!" My mother is sick, though. She needs my scholarship money to save her life. To my devastation, my roommate latches onto a school board member and takes away my scholarship. She even mocks me. "With your looks, you could've sold yourself for money. Here's a hundred bucks to compensate you." That's not all—an AI face-swapped picture of me are posted online. Countless people harass me because of them. My mother doesn't want to drag me down, so she takes her life. I break down and choose to jump off a building. When I open my eyes again, I'm taken back to the first day of the semester. The rich kid is looking for a female companion. I immediately say, "I'm the companion you've been looking for, sir!"

As the Donna of the Moretti Family, I paid out of my own pocket to build a high-security school for the children of our fallen members. But the widows repaid me by dragging my name through the media. Worse, they leaked the locations of three safe houses, dealing the Family a devastating blow. They claimed the school was never a benefit at all, but a “hostage camp” where I kept their children to force them to remain loyal to the Family. While Don Lorenzo Moretti was away, they even filed an impeachment motion with the Family Council, demanding that I shut down the school and hand its operating funds directly to them. Fine. I signed the closure order that very day. But the moment the notice went out, the widows swarmed the estate gates, crying and begging me to reopen the school. Only then did they understand— What waited for their children beyond the school gates was never freedom. It was a rival Family’s hit list.

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

Three months had passed since my husband vanished while hiking in the fjords. Then I spotted him in a VIP room at a Manhattan strip club, one arm wrapped around my adopted sister's waist, looking like he didn't have a care in the world. "Thank God you came up with this idea. I'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be free of that control freak." His friends raised their glasses and cheered, asking how much longer he planned to play dead. Alex swirled his drink as he considered the question. "Next week. Once the guilt and panic drive her crazy, I'll show up and give her a nice surprise." I stood in the shadows, watching him enjoy his newfound freedom. Then I called a friend who worked at the courthouse.

When my best friend, Sienna Cross, found out I was married to a millionaire genius designer, she decided my life should belong to her. She wanted my face, my name, and my spot beside him. I was shaking when she strapped me to the operating table. Sienna smiled, thinking I was terrified. In truth, I was just trying to hold back my laughter. After all, she wasn't the only one anticipating this day. I was even more excited for it than she was.

Years after graduation, someone suddenly tags me in the class group chat. "Mr. Warren is gravely ill, Mira. Aren't you going to do anything? You really are heartless!" I only realize what's going on when I click on the fundraising link in the chat. Our high school homeroom teacher, Joseph Warren, has late-stage cancer. Thus, Lyra Fairfield, the class belle, is leading a fundraiser and patient-donor matching process. "I'll donate ten thousand dollars. My husband is the director of Waverly General Hospital, and I've already asked him to arrange a VIP ward for Mr. Warren." Right after I send that message, the group pounces on me. "Mira, you contracted an STD back then and tried to pin it on Lyra. She didn't even hold it against you, and now you're trying to steal her thunder? You're unbelievable!" "I can't believe you're still lying through your teeth during such a serious situation. You never change, do you?" Lyra immediately defuses the tension. "Mira, I don't blame you for what happened in the past, but you really shouldn't impersonate the director's wife. I've already arranged the ward and surgery, and I'm donating another 100 thousand dollars to Mr. Warren!" I'm this close to laughing out of sheer anger. She's the one who scratched her name off the diagnosis report and framed me for having an STD all those years ago. I never even confronted her about it, and now she's playing the victim? Lyra soon posts a photo in the group chat, showing off her husband's car. Yet, when I see the man in the passenger seat, I guffaw. Isn't that my husband's driver? When did he start running a hospital?

I've just given Eugene Howard a lavish monetary wedding gift at his wedding when I see him passing me an instant cup noodle with a look of disdain. "You can just eat it at the entrance. You can just broaden your horizons from this spot. Why don't you take a look at yourself in the mirror, Nicholas? Do you really think you have the right to sit at the same table as the bigwigs in the wedding venue?" I suppress my rage for the sake of my fiance, Esther Howard. After all, Eugene is her younger brother. "I'm a wedding guest, so why can't I enter the venue?" Today is the day Esther will be announcing our upcoming marriage. If I get blocked outside the venue, who's going to be there with her when she makes the announcement? But Eugene scoffs at me in return. "You're worth nothing! Just because Esther flashes you a smile after seeing how good-looking you are doesn't mean you have the right to marry her! "Soon, my family will be receiving a ten-billion-dollar investment from the Warner family of Cantonia! That means we'll become the richest family in Geronton! "Plus, my future brother-in-law, Ray Atkinson, is an illegitimate son of the Warner family! A pretty boy escort like you can never compare to him!" Ray Atkinson? Wait, does Eugene seriously think that this nobody, whom I've never heard of in my life, is capable of calling the shots when it comes to my family's investment? I call Esther's number on the spot. "I heard that you want to call off our marriage and marry a bastard child hailing from the Warner family? Well then, I suppose I can retract my ten-billion-dollar wedding gift now."