Familial Bond-Kurzgeschichten & Independence Face Slapping-Kurzromane

When I returned from a mission, I found my Alpha mate, Wyatt, had tattooed his Beta's sigil next to our sacred mating mark. I cut my mission short, stormed back to the pack, and publicly declared my intent to Reject him. The mating mark is sacred, a symbol of two souls eternally bound. Desecrating it is the gravest insult to the Moon Goddess. Wyatt tore the rejection papers to shreds, casting them to the ground. Fury blazed in his wolfish eyes. "Over a sigil? You're tearing us apart over a meaningless symbol. Are you insane?" "Do I look like I'm kidding?" I sneered. "Fine. Let the Moon Goddess be your judge." The color drained from his face. "Faye, if you dare go through with this, I'll strip Rory of his birthright. He'll never be Alpha." "How could I be cursed with a mother like you? You're ruining my future as Alpha! I hate you!"My son, Rory, snarled from the side, his eyes burning with hatred. I looked at this father and son, who was now both strangers to me, and my heart turned to ash. My fingers tightened on my herb pouch. "The moment your father desecrated our mark," I said, my voice eerily calm, "I was already done with you."

The year I turned fourteen, Grandma and I were crammed into a beat-up trailer on the edge of a desert town. She couldn't afford paint, so she mixed colors from the cheapest red clay pigment at the general store. When a frame broke, she hammered it back together herself. When canvas tore, she patched the back with old cloth and sealed it with a paste she boiled from leftover church wax and cheap resin. Grandma never went to school. She painted out of pure love, and she kept at it for thirty years. Then one summer, a gallery owner named Evelyn Hart crawled into Grandma's leaky shed and examined every painting, flipping each one over to study both sides. The next day, every last painting was gone. Finished oils, sketches, pigment records, old photographs, frames. Everything cleared out overnight. Three months later, Grandma walked into Evelyn's gallery and saw her own painting, Madonna of the Red Rock, hanging in the brightest spot. But the brass nameplate beside it bore Evelyn's name. She lunged for the painting. The security guards pried her fingers loose and dragged her out the door. That night, a blizzard sealed off the roads. She pounded on the glass, but no one came. The next morning, when I found her outside the gallery, her body was already frozen solid. After the funeral, I went to clean out what was left of the burned shed. Inside the lining of an old brush pouch, I found a small scrap of painted canvas. It was a piece Grandma had trimmed off while repairing Madonna of the Red Rock. The thief had missed it. I tucked it away and kept it. For twenty years. Twenty years later, I was the compliance director at an international art marketplace. A young woman submitted an auction application for a series of paintings. The Desert Madonna Series was about to be sold to collectors and private museums around the world. The collection was valued at more than $150 million. I opened the file. In the artist field, I stared at the name for a long time. "Application denied."

After my husband, Don of the Rizzo family, died in a shootout, I took over the family and wiped out the one that killed him. To groom my daughter into the next heir, I handpicked four adopted sons to protect her. Ten years. I poured everything into them—my name, my money, my time. And every last one of them turned out exceptional and self-reliant. Over the years, with them at her side, my daughter moved forward steadily. Until the month before my daughter was about to take over my position, I got a desperate call from her. "Mom, help me... someone's got me trapped in the banquet hall. They're trying to rip my clothes off..." By the time I got there, my daughter was curled up in a corner, half her gown torn apart. And the four adopted sons I'd raised with my own hands? Standing outside the door with some girl, watching the show. All of this—because my daughter had gotten into an argument with her. When they saw me, there wasn't a shred of guilt on their faces. Just impatience. The eldest stepped in front of the girl. "Mom, she's the one who mouthed off first and pissed Isabella off. Since she never learned to respect people, I figured I'd teach her some manners for you." The third one's eyes flickered with disrespect. "Handling our little sister—that's not something you need to worry about." One look at their smug faces and I was done. Clearly, they'd forgotten who the real head of this family is.

On the day the SAT results were published, my mother sat together with me as I checked my scores, equally excited. But when she saw that I scored 1,580, her face fell. She dragged me out. "You're not my daughter! Get out!" I was stunned. "I scored 1,580, Mom! You always wanted me to do good!" She ignored me and quickly made an appointment to disown me. My father quickly stepped in as the mediator. "What are you doing? She's finally done with her SATs…" When my mother showed him my result, he flew into a rage. "You bitch! I can't believe you!" They shoved me out of the house. I banged on the door, asking them why they were doing this. They gave me icy stares and cursed me even more. In a daze, I missed a step and rolled down the stairs, falling to my death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the moment I checked my results.

On the day my adoptive father, Claude Bolton, is buried, my biological parents, along with the fake heiress, Gwen Walton, force their way into the funeral hall to pressure me into signing a statement of forgiveness. They say Gwen is about to be recommended for graduate school, so she can't afford to have a disciplinary record for driving a mechanic to his death. My biological mother, Lorna Pollard, holds my hand and cries. "Claude is already dead. Don't ruin Gwen too." My biological father, Joseph Walton, presses the pen into my palm. "The dead shouldn't stand in the way of the living." Gwen kneels in front of the casket, crying pitifully. "Ada, I'm sorry. I didn't know Mr. Bolton would really jump off the building." Just as I am about to sign, the funeral home calls. They say a pearl button fell out of Dad's hand before cremation. Meanwhile, Lorna's cuff is missing a button today.

As an exploration geologist, I'm caught in a landslide during a mission, and one of my arms is crushed. Before we set out, our exploration team has accurately predicted the weather. There's no chance of heavy rain that day. It isn't until I overhear my wife, Diana Nelson, talking to a doctor friend that I learn the truth. "Diana, you knew Adam was going out on a mission that day, yet you spent a fortune on creating cloud seeding just to get him injured and eventually cost him an arm. You really went too far for Flynn." Diana frowns. "Who told him to care so much about that exploration project? The only way the project can go to Flynn is if Adam gets disabled. "Otherwise, Flynn will be sent to Nambara. You think I can bear to let him suffer in a place like that?" What she doesn't know is that the Nambaran assignment will go to either Flynn Cooper or me. Before leaving, I put my medical report, which states that I've lost my reproductive ability, into a box. The day Flynn makes a name for himself, the box will be delivered to Diana as a gift.

After finishing work for the day, I checked my phone and realized I had been added to a group chat called "Catch the Thief." The members were my parents, my brother, Brian Wise, and my sister-in-law, Paulene Wise. I typed a question mark. Paulene replied instantly. [My jewelry is missing. I didn't add you here to accuse you or anything. I just wanted to ask what you think. Honestly, there's no use for other people in our family to take my jewelry, so I've been wondering... I'm not saying you definitely stole it. But if you did, you don't have to deny it. I'm willing to give you a chance to make things right.] My mother said nothing. She just kept tagging me over and over. I let out a small laugh and typed back. [Maybe Brian took it and gave it to his side piece. I'm not saying he definitely has someone else. Just that men his age sometimes start looking around. I'm only guessing here. And if he really did mess up, you could give him a chance to make things right, too.]

The first thing my brother did after returning from his studies in Europe was drag me before the family council. I ran the rundown bar our Capo father left me, stocking shelves at dawn and scrubbing counters past midnight. I even took on debt from loan sharks to keep him afloat. "Just one last time," he always promised over the phone. "I'll pay you back once I marry rich." But today, a summons from the family arrived at his request. It demanded I be stripped of my birthright and forced to hand over the bar and our territory. My phone pinged. A photo flashed on the screen: my brother in a silk shirt, sitting close to a woman, her hand digging into his thigh. The message followed: Meet my fiancée, the daughter of the Valenti family boss and their Chief Legal Counsel. She says you don't stand a chance. I stared at that hand for a long, long time. Then I crouched down and pried open the hidden compartment beneath the bar.

My house suddenly catches fire. The nanny is burned across nearly 80% of her body while saving my son, and the doctors spend three days fighting to keep her alive. But I fire her because of a single glass of water she gives him. Then I hire a lawyer and demand that she pay me back for every expensive supplement she took while working for us. My son looks at me as if he can't believe what I've become. "Mom, when did you become so heartless? Amy almost died saving me, and you won't even cover her medical bills. Now you're firing her too? "You're the one who taught me never to forget what someone has done for me. If you won't help her, I will!" I hold his gaze without flinching. "Then go ahead! Samuel, I've frozen all your cards, so you won't be using a cent of my money. If you want to help Amy, you'll have to find a way to pay her bills yourself." Because of what I've done, everyone in my family thinks the worst of me. But I don't explain myself to any of them. After all, I've already died once. In this second life, I'll do whatever it takes to protect my family, even if it means being misunderstood by everyone.

The day after my parents finally find me and bring me home—18 years after my abduction—they announce their bankruptcy and plunge into massive debt. Over the next two years, I'm forced to drop out of school and work three jobs a day to pay off the family debts. I even lose hearing in one ear after a brutal beating from a debt collector. Through it all, Mom and Dad hold me close in the middle of the night, weeping and apologizing for failing me. Foolishly, I believe them. I tell myself that as long as our family is together, I can endure anything. Desperate to hear again, I buy a used hearing aid on a secondhand goods platform for 9.90 dollars. The comments section congratulates me on snagging a rare steal. But the seller replies indifferently, "This is something my housekeeper doesn't want anymore. I'm just giving it away as charity." Swallowing my pride, I travel to a massive luxury villa to pick it up. After taking the hearing aid from the young woman, I bow my head in deep gratitude. But as I look up, my gaze catches Mom and Dad in the garden behind her. They were calling out to her, saying, "Stephy, hurry back after meeting with that peasant. And be careful not to get your hands filthy."

My little sister was murdered by her kidnappers. I watched it all happen and never said a word about who did it. My mother got on her knees and begged me. I didn't flinch. When my father threatened me with his authority as the Don, I walked away from my place as the Family heir. I moved to a small town down south. Eight years later, I was dying of a terminal illness, and my older sister, Beth Turner, had taken over the Family. Under her, the Turners had become the most powerful mafia family on the East Coast. The first thing she did when she found me was have me dragged back to the Family's tribunal. "Selena Turner, you ungrateful snake. Mia called you her sister for all those years, and you still won't name the kidnapper. "Mia's been dead for years. Don't you feel any guilt at all?!" I was on my knees in the great hall. I couldn't speak. "After all these years, I can finally extract your memories. Today, I'm going to see exactly who you've been protecting. I will avenge Mia." She ordered her men to restrain me and hook up the extractor. On the screen above the banquet hall, a face suddenly appeared. The room erupted into chaos, and Beth's face went deathly pale.

On her eighteenth birthday, the long-lost heiress, Cassie Bailey, was finally tracked down by her mother, Ann Moore, CEO of the Bailey Group. However, Cassie refused to come back with her. Instead, she chose to remain adopted by a man living on government assistance. “So what if you’re rich? The bonds ordinary people share can’t be measured with money. Since you weren’t there for me for the past eighteen years, then I won’t acknowledge you for the next eighteen years either!” [Oh my God, she’s such a queen. That fearless, untouched-by-materialism energy is exactly why we love her.] [But her mother is literally the richest woman in Orkta. Is turning that down really a good idea?] The richest woman in Orkta? I shook my head and rubbed my eyes several times before finally accepting the fact that I could somehow see those floating comments. Well, if Cassie did not want a life of unimaginable wealth, I was more than happy to take her place. As everyone watched in stunned silence, I shoved my way through the crowd and grabbed Ann’s hand. “Mom, are you here to take me home?”

My best friend, Eleanor Fitzroy, and I both transmigrated into an era of turmoil, where we happen to become students of a legendary seer. I am born with an uncanny gift for divination. With nothing more than three coins, I can read the signs of fate and predict what is yet to come. Eleanor, meanwhile, possesses an extraordinary mind for strategy. She can decipher the most complex military tactics and, with a single formation of her own design, turn the tide against thousands of soldiers. After leaving Ravenvale, our mentor's secluded valley, we join forces to support the disgraced Seventh Prince, Alexander Wyndham, and help him rise to the throne. Alexander soon falls deeply in love with Eleanor. He marries her in a lavish royal wedding, making her the queen of the realm. 15 years into their marriage, they are still as devoted to each other as ever. They have eight sons together. Then, last night, the palace receives joyous news—the empire of Arden has welcomed its first princess since its founding. Overjoyed, Alexander rides through the night with his eight sons and arrives at the gates of Ravenvale, begging me to come out of seclusion and divine Matilda Wyndham's fate. Of course, I agree. I hurry to the royal palace that very night. I place a dab of vermilion on Matilda's forehead and bestow a blessing of peace and safety upon her. With my task complete, I prepare to leave. But on a whim, I toss my coins one more time, intending to divine Eleanor's fate and see what the rest of her life holds in store. The moment the coins hit the ground, however, the signs turn ominous. The reading reveals chaos, death, and a fate that has been sealed long ago. My blood runs cold. If Eleanor has already been dead for some time, then who is the woman lying on the queen's bed, smiling at me so warmly?

The words from my mouth were cursed. Anything I said came true. When I was eight, a child trafficker broke my right leg. I stared at him and said, "You made me limp, so I'll make you limp too." A second later, steel pipes from an overturned truck went through both his legs. When I was twelve, a staff member at the orphanage stole my winter coat. I said to her, "You stole my warmth, so I'll give you the cold. You won't live past tonight. Ice will be your coffin." That night, she passed out drunk in a walk-in freezer and froze to death. Then the wealthy Shaw family found me and brought me home. However, I knew I was a monster, so I kept my mouth shut and acted like I was mute. But I had only been home for three months when their adopted daughter Yara Shaw rushed over and grabbed my hand during my older brother John Shaw's birthday party. Then she threw herself backward and crashed into a thorny rosebush, screaming. My mom came running when she heard the scream. When she saw the bloody scratches covering Yara's arm, she slapped me across the face. "Yara has a severe bleeding disorder! I don't care how jealous you are, you shouldn't try to kill her." Dad walked over right behind her, his eyes red as he pointed at me. "We've tried so hard to make it up to you, and this is how you repay us? Kneel and beg for forgiveness! You can get up once you understand how wrong you were!" I gritted my teeth. Fine. If they wanted me to speak that badly, I would give them what they wanted. I looked straight at Yara and opened my mouth, those accursed words clear…

I was a girl, but from the day I was born, the gender listed on my birth certificate was Male. I always thought it was a clerical error. Then, in 1993, I placed first in the county in the sciences on the college entrance exam, and my parents locked me in the cellar. My mother pleaded with me, "Sam, you're the older sister, but you're also the older brother. Let your brother go to school in your place." My father frowned around his pipe. "The two of you are twins anyway. You've been a tomboy since you were little. Who could tell you and your brother apart?" In that instant, everything that had confused me since childhood finally made sense. So this was why my parents had raised me as a boy all those years. It had all been leading to this one moment. My brother took my place and went to college. Meanwhile, my parents sold me to the old bachelor who lived at the edge of the village. The "wedding gift" paid for my brother's tuition and living expenses. On my wedding night, I ran away. The following year, I took the college entrance exam again under the name Taylor Selwyn and once more placed first in the county. Today, a resume landed on my desk. The brother I hadn't seen in seven years sat across from me. I looked at him and smiled softly.

My mom is a woman who takes frugality very, very seriously. When I suffer from a high fever, she feeds me moldy chicken noodle soup. In fact, I can only wear my older sister's hand-me-downs since I was a little girl. After working hard for so long, I finally qualify for the final interview of a top-500 company. I keep telling my mom repeatedly to not cause any trouble for me. Alas, my monitor winks out when I've reached the most critical point of my interview. At the same time, the router has lost access to the internet. I rush out of my room hurriedly, only to see my mom flipping off the main switch in the darkness. "Why did you leave the lights on at night? Imagine how much money you'll have to pay! I've already calculated everything for you. If we turn off the lights, we get to save a few pennies per night!" Thanks to those pennies, I end up losing my job that can guarantee an annual salary of a million dollars. Later on, my older sister, Andrea Fletcher, is diagnosed with a kidney disease. In order to latch onto Andrea's rich husband, Kirk Herrera, my mom forces me to work overtime at a shady factory just to gather enough money for Andrea's medical bills. Even when I'm about to die, my older brother, Anthony Fletcher, and my dad keep blaming me. "You can't even get hired at a proper factory! You really are useless, Alice! Your mom went through all those frugal nonsense just to raise you for nothing!" When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day I'm about to attend the online interview. I just chuckle coldly as I look at Andrea, who has just found out about her kidney disease and is waiting for me to earn enough money for her kidney transplant. Then, I toss her expensive, specialized medication into the trash can. "What use is there for you to take the medicine, Andrea? What a waste! Mom already stated many times that being frugal is the way of life! "You should drink more water instead. Once your rich husband finds out how good you are at saving money, he'll definitely compliment us for knowing how to balance our finances!"

On the nineteenth day after giving birth, I told my mother something felt wrong. She didn't even look up. "Who isn't exhausted after having a baby? I didn't have anyone helping me after I gave birth, and I still got through it." After that, I stopped talking about it. At night, when Noah cried, I got up to warm his bottle. My hands shook so badly that I dropped it on the floor. Carol ran out of her room barefoot. The first thing she said was, "Are you doing this on purpose?" Once, a nurse from the clinic came out for a postpartum home visit and asked how I was feeling. Before I could answer, my mother cut in. "What could possibly be wrong with her? She eats my food, lives under my roof, and still complains that taking care of her own baby is exhausting." After the visit ended, my mother slammed the door. "You really know how to put on a show for outsiders." During that time, I spent every waking second trembling. Then I started growing hydrangeas on the balcony. Seventeen pots. I planted them one by one, counting the days. Those ten minutes I spent watering them every day were the only moments when I felt like I was still alive. Last week, driving Noah home from his vaccination, I thought the first flower should be blooming soon. Then I opened the door. The balcony was empty. Only smears of soil left on the tile. My mother was in the kitchen trimming beans. She didn't even look up. "I pulled the flowers out. They attract mosquitoes. The balcony's better used for the baby's things." I said nothing. I walked out to the balcony and stood there a long time. The wind came through. The air was clean, without even the faintest trace of flowers. I looked down at the dirt marks on the tile. And suddenly I thought they looked like the last evidence that I'd ever existed in this house.

The third time Mom brought up the refrigerator not cooling, I knew she was waiting for me to say, "I'll buy one." To hear her tell it, I was the pillar holding up our family. She always said my younger brother only made two thousand a month, so we couldn't count on him. The family had to rely on me. So when she said her bedroom was too hot, I gritted my teeth and bought her a new air conditioner. When Dad said his neck always hurt, I lived on plain bread for a month to buy him a massager. Even when the house was renovated last year, I scrimped and saved to cover most of the cost. I'd been working for five years, earning eight thousand a month, and by the end of every month I couldn't even keep five hundred. When I didn't respond, Mom slammed her fork down on the table and shot me a look. "Other people's kids look after their parents. I guess I just wasn't that lucky!" My chest tightened. The food in my mouth was suddenly impossible to swallow. I was about to say something when I heard the front door open, followed by my brother's cheerful voice. "Mom, I got paid! Almost ten thousand! You and Dad don't need to send me that four thousand this month!" I looked up, stunned. My brother was holding the newest tablet, and right behind him was my girlfriend, Audrey Bellamy—who'd told me she was meeting a client today. Only then did I learn that the extra five thousand I gave Mom every month for household expenses had mostly gone to him. And I, the so-called pillar of this family, turned out to be the shortest pillar in the house.

When my parents came to take me home, I accidentally switched souls with Ava, a girl from the mountains. The moment my mother saw the certificate proving that Ava had ranked first in the entire county, her eyes filled with tears. "Looks like sending you to the mountains to suffer for half a year was the right decision. "Back then, getting you to study was like pulling teeth. Now you finally understand that everything we did was for your own good." I burst into tears and rushed forward, throwing my arms around my mother's legs. "Mom, I'm the real Sophie!" She kicked me hard, sending me sprawling into the mud. "Where did this wild child come from? You're just as disobedient as the old Sophie!" My parents took away the "me" carrying Ava's soul, leaving the real me behind in the mountains. For the next five years, I endured endless hard labor, slept in a pigsty, and suffered relentless abuse before I finally found a chance to escape. But when I returned home, my mother looked at me with disgust and drove me away. "My daughter just made it through the national competition. How could she possibly be someone like you? If you dare spout that nonsense again, I'll have you locked up in a mental hospital!" I cried until my entire body shook, but I refused to give up. That night, I climbed over the wall and slipped back into the house. That's when I heard my father ask my mother, "We didn't know about the soul swap back then. But now that she's found her way back... are we really not going to acknowledge her?" My mother let out a cold laugh. "What would be the point of taking her back? Should we let her ruin the Sophie we have now? She's hopeless. Even being thrown into the mountains couldn't change her. Someone like her deserves to die." A sharp pain ripped through my stomach. I coughed up a mouthful of blood. "Mom... This body has stomach cancer. Just as you wished... I'm going to die."

My classmate Bianca and I have the same taste. She wants every man I’ve ever dated. She says I’m too naive. That I don't see how powerful men think. She calls it “testing” them for me. She says she’s helping. Then she sleeps with my boyfriend. Then she rubs it in my face. “See? I told you that you can’t handle them. These men are sharks. If it wasn’t for me, you’d have been eaten alive by now.” I choked on my rage. I said nothing. This time, I went behind her back. I went after the king of New York's underworld. When she found out, she made her move. But she has no idea. This man isn't my endgame. He's the trap I set for her.