Inspirational Short Stories & Independence Face Slapping Novels

For three whole years, everyone at school knows me as a hopeless student who can barely pass a test. After the SATs, I am sitting at my cousin's college acceptance celebration, quietly eating my meal. My aunt, Karen Reed, suddenly snatches the plate from my hands. "Your scores are pathetic, and you still have the nerve to sit here and eat?" My cousin, Wilbert Yard, swirls his drink and sneers. "Jason, you won't get anywhere in life with a brain like yours. You can be my driver someday. I'll pay you 800 dollars a month." My uncle, George Yard, points a finger in my face. He looks at me in disgust and says, "Your parents have been working out of town for three years, and you still can't get decent grades. You're embarrassing the family!" Everyone at the table turns to look at me. Just then, my phone rings. I casually put it on speaker, and my homeroom teacher's voice fills the entire room. "Jason, you scored a 1590 on the SAT! That's the highest score in the state!"

I’m the princess of the Moretti family, the Chicago Outfit. But all I ever cared about was sculpting. The day before Thanksgiving, my car died on me. I had to drive home in some beat-up, mud-caked Jeep. The second I walked into the penthouse, some strange woman shoved a pile of silver polish into my arms. She jutted her chin at me. “Get these polished before the dinner party,” she sneered. I looked at her. She was wearing my late mother’s favorite silk robe. This is my house. Who the hell was this woman? And who was supposed to polish this junk? Me? The only princess of the Moretti family? I pulled out my phone. Opened the family's encrypted app. I sent a message to my father, Vincenzo. “Your new pet wants me to polish the silver.”

My father was the most feared Don in all of Sicelia. He ran every illicit arms deal and casino in the underworld, his name alone sent shivers through the Mafia world. He worried that, as his only heir, I might fall for the wrong man. So he ordered every family to send a representative, and I would choose my marriage partner by lot. I drew Bernardo Vito, heir of the Vito family. It was an arranged marriage, but I still wanted to meet him in person. To keep up appearances before the evening banquet, I stopped by a haute couture boutique. The moment I stepped inside, my eyes landed on a deep crimson velvet gown. Just as I reached for it, a sharp voice pierced the air. "I want that dress she's holding. Wrap it up for me." Before I could even react, a clerk snatched it from my hands. I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to stay calm. "I saw this dress first, and I was ready to pay. Is this how you treat your customers?" The woman laughed, as if I had just told the world's funniest joke. Her gaze roamed me with contempt, and she sneered: "This dress is worth five million dollars. A country bumpkin like you can only look. "Me? I am Bernardo Vito's favorite assistant. In this city, nothing I want is ever taken from me!" I could not help but laugh. Bernardo Vito? The very man I had drawn in the marriage lot? I pulled out my phone and dialed. "Bernardo, your favorite assistant just stole the dress I had my eye on. What are you going to do about it?"

On the day of my daughter Eleanor Baldwin's second birthday party, my entire family stood nervously by the banquet hall entrance. They were not there to greet guests, but rather to keep me from showing up and causing a scene. Mom's face was written all over with anxiety. "Lucas wouldn't actually crash the party, would he?" Dad's brow stayed tightly furrowed. "Who knows? That disgrace of a son is capable of anything." My younger brother, Cody Baldwin, had his arm wrapped gently around my wife, Kendra Clarkson, trying to reassure her. "Don't worry. If Lucas dares to show up, I'll keep you and Ellie safe." Kendra nodded slowly. "If it really comes to that... maybe we should just let Ellie be his goddaughter. At least then, we're still family..." However, the party came and went, and I never appeared. I had already made up my mind to join a classified national defense research program. Only this time, it was for good.

On the day of the World Rally Championship finals, I pressed the accelerator to the floor, ready for the final dash. The next moment, the engine exploded in a deafening roar, and thick smoke instantly filled the cockpit. Flames spread toward the fuel tank. I yanked at the door, desperate to jump out, but the handle wouldn’t budge, and the brakes felt welded in place. In that instant of despair, my husband’s voice came through the comms. “Attention, all teams, no need to rescue her. My wife is the Iron Racer! “For today’s live broadcast challenge, let’s see if she can drive this burning car across the finish line!” His co-commentator, recently recruited onto the team, chimed in with excitement. “Thomas, the sponsor just confirmed! As long as Jane holds on to the end, they’ll increase investment. I can get a permanent spot!” I understood instantly then that the husband on the commentary platform I had supported for years was using my life to pave the way for his mistress. Smoke clawed at my throat. However, I forced down the dizziness and begged, “For the sake of all our years together…” Only for him to cut me off with irritation. “Save your energy for driving. You’re skilled. Just hold on a little longer. Mandy’s promotion depends entirely on you.” The cockpit had become an inferno; my skin searing with every second. I gripped the blistering wheel, steering through the smoke for the last time. This time, my finish line was the commentary platform where the two of them were huddled together.

On the day the weapons deposit was due, my fiancé suddenly gave the money to a rival family’s daughter. A subordinate reminded him, “Don Sanchez, what about Miss Anna?” “For the sake of this weapons deal, Miss Anna hasn’t bought a single new dress for three years. If she finds out you gave the hard-earned deposit to Miss Lily, won’t she be angry?” Jackson only curled his lips indifferently. “Anna? It’s fine. She has the password to my safe. “Even if she knows I gave the money to someone else, she’ll just sell her jewelry and make up the amount. “She loves me and can’t be without me. It won’t affect our wedding.” I stood at the door, listening in silence. Then I smiled, turned, and left as if I had heard nothing. I didn’t urge him to pay the deposit, nor did I ask about the weapons deal. What Jackson didn’t know was that while he was trying to please Lily, I was pursuing my own goals. Even my years of frugality were never for him.

My fiancé, Orlando, was a mafia captain. Three years ago, he got caught in a shootout, and someone tried to kill him. I took the bullet for him without thinking twice. The wound left me so weak that I spent most of my days stuck at home. Afraid I'd get hurt again, Orlando brought in a maid named Cecilia to look after me and act as my stand-in. Whatever was meant for me, she tried it first to make sure it was safe. Little by little, she got everything before I did. First to break in my heels. First to sleep in my wedding bed. Even the trip to Iceland I'd waited years for—she went with Orlando first, in my place. When the accident happened at the shopping center, Orlando still carried Cecilia into the emergency stairwell first. A falling stone column crushed my ankle. Lying in that hospital bed, I finally lost it. Orlando only frowned at me. "Nadia, stop making a scene. Cecilia is just your stand-in. She faces the danger first so you can stay safe." He sounded so sincere. He took my hand and pressed it to his lips. "Nadia, try to understand how hard this is for me. I can't let you get hurt again. I just can't." That devotion of his made me give in one more time. I never imagined that even at my own wedding—the day that mattered more to me than anything—Cecilia would wear my wedding dress before I did. I can make do with something secondhand. But I don't want a secondhand man.

I came from a family of musical prodigies. Everyone had talent—except me. I was born tone-deaf, with a harsh, unpleasant voice. My parents were Grammy winners, but I couldn't even pass an audition for a school show. Everyone said listening to me was torture. Desperate to carry on the Bennett family's musical legacy, my parents adopted Layla Bennett. The moment she entered our home, she took my place. My parents called her a musical genius and brought her to exclusive dinners, industry parties, and prestigious galas. My older brother, Ron Bennett, who had once spoiled me rotten, now said Layla was a hundred times better. Within a few years, Layla became one of the hottest rising stars in the music industry. I became an embarrassment to the family. Once, I touched Layla's performance gown. They accused me of trying to ruin it out of jealousy and shipped me overseas. “A spiteful child deserves to be punished!” Years later, I finished my studies abroad and finally returned home. But nothing was the way I remembered it. Layla lifted her chin and looked down at me. "Evelyn, I'm giving my first solo recital in Vienna soon. Mom and Dad will officially announce it at the party tonight. I'm the heiress to the Bennett family's musical legacy. We only need one golden voice in this family." My hand froze over the gift I'd brought her. Everyone said I had disgraced the family name. But what would they say if they knew the daughter they'd thrown away had already won gold at an international violin competition and performed on stages around the world? Would they be proud of me?

My online boyfriend dropped a bomb on me the day before freshman orientation day. He had been playing dice with a group of friends and lost a bet. Apparently, I was the prize. Before I could even figure out whether he was joking, he added me to a gaming group chat packed with more than a hundred people. The announcement at the top had already been changed. "Congratulations, Oliver! You just won yourself a 200-pound girlfriend!" A few seconds later, someone posted an old high school photo of me. It was a picture of me in my loose school uniform. As I was at nearly 200 pounds, my neck had practically disappeared into my shoulders. The chat instantly erupted. "Holy shit! That's not a girlfriend. That's a pig in human form." "A bet's a bet. Oliver, you have to do the couple challenge with her tomorrow." The jokes only got worse from there. Before long, someone even started a betting pool over whether I would have the nerve to show up the next night. My own boyfriend threw 10,000 at me and then backed out. "Don't blame me, man. You rolled a six. You won her fair and square." Oliver, the guy who had supposedly won me, stayed completely silent. Then, the girl everyone in the freshman group had already crowned the hottest girl on campus suddenly tagged me. "Lauren, you're coming tomorrow night, right?" I watched message after message fill the screen. Then, I smiled. They had no idea that I had spent the past several months preparing for the day I finally met my boyfriend in person. I was no longer the girl in that photo. I had gone from 200 pounds to 110. I'd been stopped by plenty of guys over the past two months. I'd gotten so many men asking for my number in the past couple of months than I had during the first 18 years of my life combined. None of the people laughing in that chat knew any of that. And I… Well, I didn't see the need to explain myself. Instead, I quietly put 3,000 on myself. My bet was simple. I would show up exactly on time. The entire group chat went crazy the moment they saw it. Mocking comments, jokes, and laughing emojis flooded the screen. I didn't say anything, letting their jeers fill the screen. Then, I sent one final message. "A bet's a bet."

To test how the three of us handled money, our parents gave each of us a supplementary card on the family account with a limit of 150,000 dollars. My sister spent hers on a VIP package at a cosmetic clinic. My brother spent his tipping an influencer streamer to push her up the donor rankings. I was the only one who used mine to front the material costs for a research competition. At the family dinner at the end of the month, our parents paid cash for a Porsche for my brother. "Jasper knows how to invest in connections in the media world. He has a future!" Then they handed my sister a downtown penthouse as part of her dowry. "Isadora has more class every day. Even Lucian Morgan compliments her. That money was well spent!" When it was my turn, their faces went cold and they took my card away. "Ophelia, you spend money on a pile of scrap metal. Don't expect another cent out of this family." I took a deep breath and tried to argue. "Dad, Mom, that material cost is a required expense for a national research program..." Before I finished, my father threw a cup of hot tea at my feet. "You waste your days on junk nobody respects. You're worthless, and starving would serve you right." Every day my mother took my sister to etiquette class. My father paid a fortune for a private finance tutor for my brother. I was the one down in the basement breathing fumes over my experiments, and I still had to make the late-night meals for the whole house. For my entire life, everything I worked for was worth nothing to them. This time I decided to stop being the Cinderella who gave and gave in silence. I turned around and signed my name on the security agreement for the national research program.

Five years ago, I offered up my neck to Kieran, the Shadow Lord. After that night of insatiable hunger, he didn't drain me dry. Instead, he sank his fangs deep into my veins. At the zenith of pleasure, he whispered repeatedly into my ear, "You are mine." Just as I mistakenly believed this twisted possession was love, his so-called "savior," Seraphina, returned. To appease her, Kieran demanded my heart's blood every night. He callously tossed my mother's only keepsake into an auction. Worse still, to quell her jealousy, he personally locked me away in a prison bristling with silver torture devices... When I finally broke the blood pact and, my heart shattered, fled to Los Angeles to marry his sworn enemy, Lucian, Kieran descended into complete madness.

As one of the country's top high school teachers, I have helped countless students get into the best colleges. But I somehow find myself reborn as a poor kid from the countryside while attending a ceremony honoring my achievements. A mysterious voice echoes in my mind. "If you fail to get into college, you'll die!" How hard can that be? It's just getting into college. That's hardly a challenge for a genius like me. But soon I realize that getting into college isn't really about how smart you are. In the end, it all comes down to people and their motives.

I was supposed to be nothing more than a doomed side character in someone else's story. After I woke up to the truth, though, I became the male lead's best friend instead—and ended up with the wealthy girl who had always loved him, leaving him free to live happily ever after with the school's golden girl. Ten years later, though, he made a very public announcement that he was single and back in town. Then, in the old class group chat that had been inactive for a long time, he sent two messages. [I'm back. We should all get together sometime.] [@Whitney Charlton, you'll be there, right?] The group chat exploded instantly. After all, everyone still remembered the golden boy we had known back then: the charming, arrogant guy who had been the center of attention everywhere he went. When graduation came, he had not chosen the aloof top student who had pursued him for four years. Even after all those years, it was still one of those things everyone wished had ended differently. I glanced down at Whitney, asleep beside me, and raised an eyebrow. I found it regrettable too. After all, I had been waiting ten years for this opportunity.

During my senior year of high school, my grades are completely erratic. I can ace three subjects while completely bombing the other three, leaving me dead last in my class. My homeroom teacher, Janet Bennett, throws me and my backpack out of the classroom. A classmate waves my report card around as the rest of the class laughs. "You're a total loser. You even failed your language test. Even a factory wouldn't hire you." The next day, my homeroom teacher throws out the student ranking second to last, Ethan Hoppe, as well. "One bad apple spoils the whole bunch. And somehow, our class has two of them. You think the college entrance exam is only going to test what you're good at? You two can rot together for all I care. Just don't drag everyone else down with you!" My eyes light up. I finally found someone who gets me. We compare our report cards and realize our combined strengths put us way ahead of the school's top students. Someone with uneven grades is a loser. But put us together? We're basically unbeatable. I throw an arm around my new deskmate. "Ethan, how about we aim for first place?"

After the New Year's holiday, my former boss called. The moment I picked up, she tore into me. "What time do you think it is? Why aren't you here yet? The project is about to be handed over. If it falls through, are you going to take responsibility for it? Get over here now!" She sounded completely entitled, as if I were still the same pushover who came running whenever she called. Before I could say a word, she hung up. Then HR called. "Why aren't you here yet? The boss is furious! You're usually the most reliable one. Even if you're unhappy about your year-end bonus, you can't just walk away from your work!" I laughed and explained, "It's not that I'm refusing to work. I already quit before the holiday!" Today was my first day at the client company.

In my past life, I walked away from an invitation to the elite Academy just to take the fall for Luca. He held my hand, swearing he’d get me out. Swearing he’d keep me safe for the rest of my life. Instead, I rotted in a cell until I died. While I was bleeding out on the cold floor, Luca was marrying the Don’s daughter, living the high life. When I opened my eyes, I was back. Luca was sixteen again, face pale as a sheet, shoving a bloody gun into my hands. "Elena, you're a lifesaver." I slapped the piece away. "Dream on. I ain't taking the rap for you this time."

I was reborn. The universe spat me back to the year of my SATs, eighteen again, right when Noah Ritchie confessed his love for me. Turned out, it was the last year he'd ever love me. That was the year he met her… the one who'd actually own his heart. For Carla Davidson, he didn't hesitate to confess his love to me, not out of sincerity, but to distract me from my studies. Because of him, I missed my shot at a top university and barely got into a second-tier one. He even staged a car accident to keep me from attending an academic competition, just so Carla could win first place. When Carla suffered from severe blood loss in an accident, he convinced me to donate so much blood that it permanently damaged my health and left me unable to bear children. Later, Noah was forced to marry me, but he spent every day brooding over a photo of Carla. And when he learned she was getting married, he abandoned me without a second thought, choosing to die for love. But in this lifetime, I'm wide awake. I won't love him again. I'll be selfish. I'll live for myself and no one else. So when Noah looked at me with his usual arrogance and asked, "Tiffany, will you be my girlfriend?" I met his gaze calmly and shook my head. "No."

I was Alpha King Xavier's personal Omega maid. I took care of his daily needs and tested his meals for poison. My monthly salary was a staggering fifty thousand dollars. That was until a new, young Omega maid was hired at the estate. When she found out about my pay, her eyes widened. "All she does is serve the Alpha his drinks, and she gets fifty thousand a month?" "I heard the King always rewards her with expensive jewelry and custom dresses. She has it so easy!" Early the very next morning, she couldn't wait to run to the Elder Luna and volunteer. "I want to personally serve the great Alpha King." "I only want twenty thousand dollars, and I'll definitely work harder than her." Later, she blocked my path. She couldn't hide her smug arrogance. "The Elder Luna approved my request." "She also thinks you're getting too old for this. In a couple of days, you'll be kicked out of the estate." She fully expected me to sob over losing my job. However, my eyes were red with excitement. Finally... I was finally going to be completely free! Xavier was a violent and unpredictable madman. In the morning, he could be in high spirits and personally place a precious diamond necklace around my neck. By the afternoon, a single wrong word could make him pin me hard to the floor and choke me until I couldn't breathe. There were countless Rogues who wanted to assassinate him. Checking his food and drinks was a deadly job. It could rot my guts at any given moment.

The day before the start of a new semester, Gianna Sutton, my online girlfriend, tells me she lost me to her best friend in a dice game. I haven't even figured out what's going on when she suddenly adds me to the group chat with more than a hundred people. I notice the newly made announcement pinned to the top. "Congratulations to Natalia, our campus belle, for winning herself a 220-pound boyfriend!" Just then, someone posts a photo of me from high school. I am wearing an oversized uniform in the photo, my stomach pushing against the desk before me. I am so overweight that my eyes are barely visible. Those in the group chat immediately go wild. "That thing can't be human! It's clearly a pig in disguise!" "I actually feel kind of bad for Natalia. I mean, imagine having to complete couple tasks with a pig like him." "It's a total mismatch between a total knockout and an absolute beast!" It doesn't take long before someone sets up a betting pool over whether I'll show up tomorrow night. Gianna drops 4,500 dollars, betting that I won't show up. "I hope you won't blame me for this, Natalia. You're the one who rolled a six and won him in the game." Natalia Dafforn, the campus belle, remains completely silent. Cameron Gunter, the acknowledged scion in the freshman group chat, suddenly tags me. "You're definitely showing up tomorrow, right, Zachary?" I look at the messages piling up in the group chat and smile. I have already lost 145 pounds—from 275 to 130—just to meet Gianna in real life, something no one is aware of. In the past two months alone, I have been asked for my contact info more times than in my past 18 years combined. I quietly throw down 450 dollars, betting that I'll show up on time. Then, surrounded by everyone egging me on, I simply send one message. "A bet is a bet."

On Thanksgiving, my husband Steven Mandel showed up with another woman. Not just anyone—Fiona Osborne, his first love. She had Alzheimer's and only remembered him. And yeah, he said she was moving in. Steven's eyes were ice. "Erica, I stayed away from Fiona out of duty. But I'm not wasting what time I have left without her." Happy 50th anniversary to me. No gift—just a slap-in-the-face love confession. Maya, my daughter-in-law, tried to talk some sense into him, bless her. Then Anton—my own son—cut in. "Mom already kept Dad away from Fiona for years. She's tied ME to you for half my life. Now Dad just wants to take care of the woman he loves—what's so wrong with that?" Steven stepped in front of Fiona like some kind of hero. "Anton's right. Erica, I let you play the wife role for decades. Now, I want to be with the woman I truly love. "If you can't handle that, let's just get a divorce." I stood there, frozen. I'd walked away from a powerhouse law career for this family after we had Anton. I thought I had given everything, and in their eyes, I would be a perfect wife and a perfect mother. But today made it clear—I was never enough. No matter how much I gave, it was never going to be enough. I turned to Maya. She was crying. "You wanna get divorced together?"