Independence Face Slapping Short Stories & Novels

Colter Giordano, my fiancé of six years, heir to the Giordano family, took a bullet for a dancer named Mia. He didn't take one for me. A bullet tore through my shoulder. Blood bloomed across my dress, hot and sticky. But my heart hurt worse. He asked if I was okay. Just once. Then he rushed Mia to the hospital, leaving me bleeding on the floor. The next day, Mia's picture popped up on my Instagram feed. There she was, in a luxury hospital suite. Colter was fussing over a scratch on her arm that was barely there. The caption was just two words: "My Hero." I liked the post. Then I made an encrypted call. "The Falcone family's offer," I said. "I'm taking it. Get me on a plane to Sicily. Three days."

Three months after my fiancé disappeared, I saw him at the airport, his arm around a girl. He laughed smugly, "Thanks to my buddies, coming up with that plan. Otherwise, how would I get to spend every day with you? Won't go back until you're pregnant. Let that old ball-and-chain keep searching." I didn't rush over to confront him; I just watched them in complete silence. Back home, I wrapped my arms around his brother's neck and whispered bitterly, "Harry is gone, but your family needs an heir."

My husband, Julian Harlow, has died, leaving behind a five-million-dollar debt. I decide to inherit his debt right away. However, my best friend, Evangeline Frost, goes crazy from worry because of my decision. In my previous life, Evangeline had advised me to not inherit Julian's debt because he didn't have any assets. So, I signed the agreement to give up on inheriting his assets and declare that I had nothing to do with Julian in order to escape from the debt. But the debtors kept haunting me. They even kidnapped my son, Shawn Harlow, just to force me to pay the debt. The debtors were extremely violent and ruthless. On top of that, they kept using Shawn's safety as leverage over me. Every time they forced me to pay the debt, I felt as though I was being tormented slowly yet painfully. In just 24 hours, I asked all of my relatives for help, but I was only able to gather 100 thousand dollars. In the end, Shawn never escaped from his fate. I was sold to Northreach by the cruel debtors in order for the debt to be cleared. But that was when Evangeline claimed that her own son had finally returned to his roots, thus successfully inheriting the assets of a billionaire. I finally found out that said billionaire was actually my dead husband when I watched the news on the TV. Only then did realization dawn on me. Julian was pretending to be poor this whole time. It turned out that Evangeline's son was actually his illegitimate child. The assets that I had given up all went to Evangeline and her son in the end. Filled with resentment, I tried to escape back to the country in order to settle the score with Evangeline, only to die to the electric fence surrounding the slave camp in Northreach. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Evangeline tells me to give up on the assets.

"Luna Seraphina, are you certain you wish to proceed with the breaking of the mate bond? Once we begin the ritual, the bond between you and Alpha Kaden will be gone forever. Your power, your standing, and everything you hold within the pack will no longer exist." The aged priest of the pack held Seraphina’s hand, her weathered eyes reflecting worry. Seraphina nodded, her voice unwavering with determination. "I’m sure." The priest persuaded Seraphina, "The ritual will bring you unimaginable pain, and Alpha Kaden will suffer greatly too. Please, could you reconsider it?" Seraphina broke the skin of her finger with a silver pen and pressed her blood print on the ancient werewolf script to seal the deal. "Let’s begin." "Very well. After the ritual, you will forsake the name, Seraphina Mor, and in return, the Moon Goddess will grant you a new life. You will go by Kathryn Flint, is that correct?" "Yes." Kathryn would leave and begin a new chapter in a forest. It was a path she had set out for herself. She was going to leave and break free from the pack that had been nothing but lies. After the ritual, the priest handed her a new human ID and passport. "Can I leave the territory now?" "Yes, you may. The confirmation slip holds the Moon Goddess’s blessing, which has the power to mask your scent from the Alpha seeking to track you, but it can only last for a week." Seraphina prepared her departure with haste. She would bring nothing else with her, neither her Luna staff nor her registered name on the pack’s records. Seraphina was leaving with her new passport in a week anyway. The Luna title could remain with the pack for good, for she no longer needed it.

At the awards for the Global Jewelry Design Competition, my stepsister Sandra took the grand prize. She used the designs she stole from me. What she didn’t know was the show’s biggest sponsor: Jude Moretti. Godfather of the Moretti family. A bloodthirsty monster scarred in an explosion, a man they say can never have children. And the grand prize? Becoming the Godfather’s bride. That night, Moretti’s men, all in black, delivered a gold-trimmed marriage contract. They were here for the “genius designer.” My fiancé, Marco, panicked. He whisked Sandra off to Vegas to save her. They got married that night. With the deed done, Sandra strutted back in, wearing my silk robe. She flashed the ring on her finger and the hickies all over her neck. “Marco’s mine now,” she purred. “What are you going to do, Odessa? The Godfather’s only giving you a day. If you don’t marry him, the Family will have to appease him. That means sending you to the red-light district. Selling you to the kind of sicko who gets off on broken things.” She was wrong. I had another choice. I found my father and stepmother, both scrambling to deal with the contract. “I’ll do it,” I said. “I’ll marry the Godfather.”

After a fire broke out at the company, I shoved the only rescue rope into the hands of my husband, Peyton Shepherd. However, he yanked the smoke mask off my face and turned to secure it on his secretary, Hannah Russell, instead. Peyton escaped using the rescue rope, and Hannah remained unharmed thanks to the mask. I collapsed from inhaling toxic smoke, and then a falling pillar crashed into my stomach. Blood pooled beneath me. Just as the firefighters lifted me onto a stretcher, Peyton grabbed me and pulled me back down. "Serena, it's just a minor injury. Why are you lying on the stretcher? Let Hannah go to the hospital first. Her condition is serious, and she needs a comprehensive medical exam!" The firefighters and paramedics stared in shock. They looked at my blood-soaked dress, then Hannah crying pitifully over her blistered hand. My colleagues tried to intervene. "But Mr. Shepherd, Serena's injuries are clearly more severe!" Peyton snarled through gritted teeth. "Enough! I'm Serena's husband. Don't you think I know her condition? If Hannah's treatment gets delayed because of this, none of you will escape the consequences!" I pressed my hand against my slightly swollen lower abdomen and nodded, agreeing to let Hannah take the ambulance first. I decided that from this moment forward, neither I nor my unborn child owed Peyton anything.

Five years after we broke up, my ex-fiancé Bruce, yes the mafia one, suddenly called me out of the blue to announce our wedding date. I was speechless. Shocked, I blurted out, "Wait… didn't we break up five years ago?" He replied with his usual arrogance, "Break up? I never agreed to that. You left in a fit of anger. "And let me guess. You came back to the country only because you heard I was getting married. Out of jealousy, hoping to reclaim our engagement?" He even had the nerve to tell me to be magnanimous and accept Bella, the so-called 'perfect girl' who had spent the last five years by his side. I let out an icy laugh and hung up immediately. I had long been married to the most powerful Don of the strongest mafia family and had two adorable sons to show for it. Honestly, I had no idea what Bruce was thinking. Now, who even cares about him?

In the first year I was brought home, the phony heiress Viola Baker suggested a trip to Gold Island to build a sisterly connection with me. My fiancé, Jeremy Abbott, had joined us to ensure our safety. However, they ended up amassing significant gambling debts at the island's casinos. In a bid to flee, he abandoned me on the island as a hostage, vanishing without a trace alongside Viola. The casino staff restrained me, poised to unleash their wrath upon me. In my frantic struggle, I glimpsed a phone number labeled "Island Owner" on the leader's phone screen. "Could that be the number of my brother, who had cared for me for more than a decade?"

I carried my fated mate’s pup. Alpha Seth’s pup. But for twelve years, he refused to claim me. I was his secret. His personal healer. Nothing more. He never even let our son, Leo, call him “Dad.” All because he hated that fate chose an “impure” mate like me. He claimed I drugged him, that I trapped him with a child. He ditched our son's First Howl for another woman. A powerful Beta named Sarah. That was the last straw. I rejected him. I took our son and ran. They say the proud Alpha lost his mind. That the pain of rejection tore him apart, and he hunted us like a madman. But there’s no going back. There is no forgiveness.

In the middle of the night, my husband started talking in his sleep. "My little treasure, Daddy's taking you and Mommy to the new house tomorrow." But we were using protection. Where the hell did a kid come from? So I opened his phone. I saw the money transfers to another woman—spent on all kinds of luxury shit and a house. The photo album had pictures of her in a skimpy stripper outfit, a little bump in her belly. The last one was an ultrasound. Four months along, it looked like. I didn't make a sound. Just saved the evidence. They were about to learn the price of betraying a mafia princess.

At dinner, Tiffany White grabs my fiance's phone and spends 100 thousand dollars on a designer bag. She even sticks her tongue at me. "Come on, Meredith. You're loaded. You won't mind such a small amount, right? Shawn and I share everything. His money is my money," she says. Everyone at the table waits for me to lose my temper or smile and let it slide like a saint. Instead, I calmly take out a voice recorder and my laptop from my bag and adjust my gold-rimmed glasses. "100 thousand meets the threshold for criminal filing. Since you said you two share everything, I have to ask—is this embezzlement or an illegal transfer tied to an improper personal relationship? "Oh, and what you just said about 'his money is my money'? I recorded that. According to the supplemental clauses in our prenup and the company bylaws, I'm officially initiating an asset-freezing order against Shawn Harrison." I turn to Tiffany. "Enjoy your free meals in prison, Ms. White." Shawn is livid. "It was just a joke, Meredith. Is it really necessary to ruin me over this?" I hit the "enter" key. "Sorry. In my book, there are no jokes—only bad debt."

By the time I got home from my business trip, it was already past midnight—and my husband wasn't there. A woman's blouse lay on the sofa. It wasn't mine. I called him. He said he was working late at the office. I didn't bother with pretense. "Whose blouse is on the sofa?" His tone was light and casual. "Who else would it be? It's obviously a gift for you. Try it on." Suspicious, I picked it up and held it against myself. The blouse was clearly one size too small. "Honey, this is a size S. I always wear M." My husband owns a clothing company. He handles all my clothes. He's even used my measurements to design women's wear. There's no way he doesn't know my size. On the phone, he froze for half a second, then spoke as if piecing something together. "This is a new women's line I'm launching. I ordered custom pieces for you and my sister. I must've grabbed the wrong one. I'll switch it tomorrow." A moment later, his voice softened with exhaustion. "Babe, you've been gone for days. Without you, I feel so tired… I miss you so much…" It was already late into the night. Hearing him sound vulnerable—something he rarely did—made my chest tighten. I blamed myself for overthinking. But the moment I hung up, realization struck. His sister has the same build as me. She always wears size M.

In a world ravaged by global nuclear fallout, I struggled to survive alongside my fragile, sweet-faced best friend, dodging one radiation storm after another. The route to the Central Safety Zone was blocked—we had no choice but to use two detonators to blast open the tunnel. Otherwise, we would be caught in the storm, our bodies rotting away until we either dissolved into blood sludge or turned into zombies. … In my previous life, I had risked everything to secure those detonators, only for my best friend to hand them over to a complete stranger without hesitation. "They have elderly people and children on their side too," she said earnestly. "One detonator can save many lives. Iris, you can't be selfish." I was so furious my blood pressure nearly exploded, but with no other option, I went straight into a horde of zombies to steal backup detonators. I lost an arm in the process, drenched in blood and barely standing. Yet, she complained that I was covered in gore and had frightened the children. After finally regrouping with the main convoy, I rushed to deliver the formula for anti-radiation medicine to the research institute so that more people could be saved. But she accused me of stealing supplies and trying to flee, which led to my expulsion from the base, and death, my body rotting away under the radiation. When I opened my eyes again, there was still one hour left before the radiation storm hit. I looked down at the two detonators in my hand, then at my pitiful, tear-brimmed best friend—and I smiled. Since she loved being a good person so much, this time, I would let her be one to her heart's content.

The day before our engagement, Stellan Graves came shopping with me, but his mind was clearly elsewhere. I bought a chili dog from a street stall and held it up to his mouth only for him to swat it out of my hand, sending it flying to the ground. Fury flashed across his face as he snapped, "Ivy Stein, the Graves family needs a woman who can actually show her face in public. Stop buying cheap trash like this. You're embarrassing me. How do you expect my parents to accept you like this?" I picked up the food in humiliation, threw it into the trash, and nodded meekly for the sake of our four years together in college. "As you wish." … However, the very next day, he switched his fiancee to Amelia Lane. "Ivy, Amelia tried to kill herself just to marry me. She's in the hospital now. Once she's stable again, I'll come back and marry you." Four years later, he showed up at my tiny apartment with a diamond ring in hand. "Ivy, Amelia has already agreed to divorce me. We can finally be together. I told you before—once Amelia lets go of her obsession with me and stops hurting herself, I'll come and marry you." I frowned at Stellan's so-called heartfelt expression. I must have had terrible luck that day. Who'd have thought I'd run into this wacko when I'd come back to my place on a whim?! "Move," I demanded, shoving him out the door. "You're blocking the way. I need to pick up my kid from school."

My older sister, Scarlet Dawson, is an absolute saint with a savior complex. When the apocalyptic heatwave hits us, she gives out water to our neighbors, food to strangers, and even invites her boyfriend's entire family to live with us. When our supplies are finally depleted, Scarlet actually considers selling me off to a perverted old man in exchange for supplies to look after her boyfriend, Marcus Crosby. I promptly pull out my stun gun and knock her unconscious. Then, I hand her straight to the perverted old man instead. I go back to my villa, where the temperature is constantly kept at 60°F, and enjoy a tub of Ben & Jerry's ice cream under the air conditioning. Not only that, but my villa is stocked with enough supplies to last me for the next few decades!

When I was at my absolute poorest, I got sucked into some kind of survival game. The challenge was to survive 7 days on just 50 dollars, and the winner would walk away with a million dollars. As someone who might as well be certified as a professional at being broke, I knew exactly how to survive on next to nothing. That prize money had my name written all over it.

The first day I return to the country, my future mother-in-law, Sophia Damer, smacks a check against my face and says, "Here's five million dollars. Leave my son alone. The Simpsons cannot accept a gold-digging nobody like you!" Before I can even explain myself, the young woman in a white dress hiding behind her says, "Please don't do this, Sophia. If this young lady treats Jay well enough, I don't mind caring for him with her, too." I chuckle. So, Sophia and Crystal Richmond, my half-sister, think that I'm the evil mistress who tried stealing her man away from her, when Jayson Simpson was my boyfriend the entire time. And yet, Crystal still thinks that she's the legitimate one instead. However, seeing that Crystal still doesn't know who I really am, I pick up the check without even looking at it and stuff it into her V-neck dress. "Nice acting. Here's your reward." Then, I take out a black card and fling it onto the table. "Here's ten million dollars, lady. Tell your son to stay away from me and stop bothering me. I find him disgusting! "Oh, and by the way," I say, pointing at Crystal, who is still being shielded behind Sophia's body. "Might I remind you that this young woman you're protecting is just the bastard kid my dad brought home last year. "If you're thinking of using her to get close to the Richmonds, I'm afraid that you're barking up the wrong tree!"

I was bleeding out in a corner after a hit from a rival family. My husband, Dante—the Torrino family’s underboss—was in his car, holding his best friend's little sister. He gave me one cold look and said, "Leave her. She's a nobody." Later, after someone else saved me, I walked home, soaked in my own blood. I found Dante cradling Seraphina, fussing over her. All she had was a scraped knee. The blood covering my clothes? He didn't even see it. I just watched. Said nothing. Then I pulled out my phone and called my mother. "Mom, I need to come home."

For our seventh anniversary, my mate, Alpha Ethan, sent my daughter and me to the Moon Goddess Altar. He told me it was a surprise—to give our daughter her dream of watching a meteor shower from the highest peak in the territory. But Ethan never came. The protective runes at my feet sputtered, then died. The ground beneath us began to crumble. My daughter screamed, her small body sliding toward the abyss. I lunged, grabbing her hand just before she went over the edge. I screamed his name through our mind-link. Ninety-nine times, he refused to answer. On my hundredth cry, the link didn't just open—it was ripped wide. It wasn’t his voice that answered. It was his senses, flooding mine. I saw it all. Him. Another she-wolf. And him, buried deep inside of her. "I knew you loved me, Ethan," her sickly-sweet voice purred. "You even sacrificed Marcus, just to save our Leo from the soul-sickness. I'll do anything for you." Ethan’s voice was velvet and ice. "Stop. If Sera hadn't betrayed me, you never would have had the chance to carry my heir. Once I get rid of her other pup—Jullian's bastard—we can be perfect again." My world shattered. My son... Rogues. I'd always believed rogues had stolen him. But it was his own father. He sacrificed him for a lie. With my last ounce of strength, I called Julian. "I'm breaking my bond with Ethan," I snarled into the new link. "Make me your Luna. In return, I will help you burn his pack to the ground."

I create a fake account, add Lucas Bennett's lover, and then help her with advice and strategy. "A little drama keeps the spark alive. If you don't stir things up now and then, how else will he remember to pay attention to you?" So on my birthday, he spends an hour in the bathroom coaxing her to eat. On our fifth anniversary, Lucas sneaks off to a hotel and spends an hour tangled up with her. Lucas spends less time with me, but their relationship grows stronger. On the night of the company banquet, when Lucas is entertaining important clients, I tell her, "Lucas' girlfriend will be there too. If you don't ruin this contract, they'll be tied together forever." That evening, she picks up a glass of red wine and dumps it over my head. Lucas, who's been fawning over my dad, completely lost his composure.