Plot Twists Short Stories & Independence Family Emotions Novels

My parents, Leander and Valentina Rhodes, were cutthroat capitalists through and through, bringing the company’s toxic corporate culture right into our home. Eating a serving of pork ribs meant a performance deduction. Using the washing machine required paying a depreciation fee. Just to survive, I spent day and night coding and developing software. Finally, a photo-editing app I developed completely on my own went viral, earning my parents’ company $7 million. At the celebration dinner, my eldest sister, Sienna Rhodes, who managed HR, received a $70,000 bonus. My youngest sister, Delphine Rhodes, who worked in business development, walked away with a brand-new Porsche. Meanwhile, my paycheck showed nothing more than my unchanging $600 base salary. “Sienna hired two cleaners for the company. That’s called building talent pipeline infrastructure—she deserves a reward!” “Delphine took a client out for a steak dinner and secured the distribution deal. That’s expanding our territory—she deserves a massive bonus!” Finally, my parents shoved a supermarket gift card into my hand. “As for you, Evangeline, all you do is sit at your desk, tapping away on a keyboard in the air conditioning. There’s really nothing to reward.” “Still, Sienna and Delphine spoke up on your behalf, so take this gift card.” Ever since we were kids, Sienna was the family decision-maker; everything she said was taken seriously. Delphine was the baby of the family, showered with love—even when she made a mistake, it was always someone else’s fault. As for me, stuck in the middle, it felt like I was born to be forgotten. Even though I was supposed to be the star of this celebration dinner, no one remembered. No one cared. Watching the four of them laughing and enjoying their happy family moment, I silently put down the gift card. Then, I opened a text message from a rival tech giant offering me an $8 million annual salary package.

On the day I filled out my college applications, I finally realized the truth. My family was not poor. Only I was. I had ranked in the top ten in the entire state, and the admissions office told me I could choose any Ivy League school I wanted with full tuition waived. I was overjoyed, already about to call my parents with the good news when a new message suddenly popped up on my phone. 'Look at you celebrating, you poor child. Your family isn't poor at all! Even if your parents know your score, they'll only make you apply to some mediocre local university. They'll even use your scholarship money to buy your brother a new watch. 'Your brother, who supposedly went out to work, is living it up in Mariner's Bay—huge apartment, sports car, 300 thousand a month for living expenses. He's living the high life. You're the only one who thinks your family is poor. They're just afraid you'll find out they have money and try to take your brother's share. Poor thing. 'Hurry up and use your college applications as a chance to escape your family, or you'll spend your whole life as your brother's cash cow!'

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!"

My twin sister, Audrey Goodwin, was obsessed with romance novels about rich heirs. All she wanted was to marry into money and live like some perfect socialite. She set her sights on the silver-spoon scion in Jezelton, Michael Strickland, who'd been blind after a car accident. Audrey got close by becoming his private nurse. But she got tired of the work really quickly. So, she asked me to cover for her. When Michael finally got his eyesight back and held a huge celebration, Audrey decided to drug him so she could slide right into the role of Mrs. Strickland. I didn't stop her this time. I even went as far as booking her a luxury suite so she could carry out her plan. In my last life, I had begged Audrey not to go through with it. I told her romance novels weren't real life, and guys like Michael were way too powerful to mess with. She had actually listened and canceled the plan. But a little while later, the news broke: Michael secretly got married. It turned out that he'd been with someone else that very night. Just like that, Audrey's big fantasy was gone. She blamed me for ruining her "dream". My parents blamed me as well; they beat me and yelled at me, saying Audrey couldn't marry Michael now because of me. One night, Audrey snapped. She came into my room with a hammer and beat me to death. Now, I had been given another chance. I woke up right on the night of Michael's recovery party.

On the day we went shopping for college supplies, Mikayla, my younger sister, picked up a lace bedding set, her eyes sparkling. Mom put the item into the cart without glancing at the price. When it came to my turn, my brother, Cory, furrowed his brows at my choice of a blue bedsheet set. “Kaycee, why do you always reach for the cold-tone colors? “Girls should go for something softer. Be like Mikayla.” Even my childhood friend, Ben, chuckled. “No one in your dorm knows you anyway. Just pick whatever’s easy.” Mikayla shifted her gaze to the blue bedsheets in my hands and murmured, “Kaycee, why don’t you use my old ones? “It’s not like you mind anyway.” Mom was on board with the idea. “Don’t spend unnecessarily, Kaycee. Putting two girls through college isn’t easy on the family.” My grip on the sheets tightened. I knew exactly what Mikayla was talking about. The fabric was worn thin, the edges were pilled, and the pillowcase still had the coffee stain. Things had always been this way. Mikayla’s unwanted dresses, old backpacks, and tiresome room would go to me. I once believed that by staying in my lane, I would eventually get my turn. It had been eighteen years. All I got in return was that I never cared about what I got. At the checkout counter, Mom paid for Mikayla’s things. My blue bedsheet set was dumped back on the shelf. I grinned. No one would make note of the things I liked. I grabbed the blue bedspread. This time, I wouldn’t be putting it back.

On my 18th birthday, I stabbed my father. My father adamantly insisted that he had simply tripped, so I was never charged with a crime. Everyone called me an ungrateful pig. Only one reporter was willing to interview me. "Your father adamantly shielded you from blame. How can you be so heartless?" I smiled faintly. "Live with me for one month. If you can endure that, I'll show you the truth."

My friend, George, and I are both knocked unconscious by a basketball. When I wake up, I suddenly hear my late mother's voice. "Tam, don’t let George fool you again. He loves pretending to have amnesia just to toy with you and please Ariana Rogers." I freeze and look at George, who has just woken up. I hear him ask, "Who are you?" My mom goes on, "In your past life, he ruined you. You gave him a good life and everything you have, but he killed you just to be with Ariana. "Listen, your dad is about to ask you to choose a boy to be your brother. Don't pick George. Choose the boy from the Muller family. Even though he never smiles or gives you the time of day. He quietly carries your bottle for you during training every time." Before I can process it, my dad walks toward me and holds out several photos of boys. He says, "Tam, they are all children of soldiers who sacrificed for our country. I plan to adopt one to be your brother. You choose. From now on, we will be a family." This time, I do not hesitate. I point straight at Clyde Muller. "I'll listen to Mom and choose him."

Mom's words hold immense weight, but she only speaks one sentence each month. When a bankrupt businessman begs for her blessing, his life turns around the next day. When a childless tycoon begs her to bless him with a child, his wife is pregnant before a month has passed. But all my life, she has never spoken a complete sentence to me. When it was time to choose which university to apply to, Mom merely shook her head. "If you apply…" Her unfinished sentence kept me awake all night. I took her meaning the wrong way, and in the end, I lost the university I had dreamed about getting into for ten years. Then, my younger sister, who had scored less than me, somehow snagged a spot there. Yet, she only smiled shyly and said, "I just got lucky." After graduation, a prestigious foreign company came knocking. However, Mom simply gave a cold warning. "Maybe it's a trap…" So, I took her advice and joined a company that has me working overtime day after day. Yet, my younger sister joined that foreign company, and she ended up with a high salary and weekends off. Three days before my wedding, Mom looks at my fiance. As always, she only says, "The happiness you have now is only temporary…" I toss and turn, unable to sleep. But as I pass my younger sister's room, I hear Mom's gentle voice. "First, I pray that Zara and Evan grow old together, surrounded by children and grandchildren. Second, I hope they live happily without any misfortune…" She talks all night. I listen from the other side of the door the entire time. It's only when my tears run dry that I finally understand. It isn't that Mom can't speak. She simply doesn't want to talk to me. Since her words are never meant for me, she has no reason to involve herself in the rest of my life.

To keep my grandmother's failing organs stable, I simmered a medicinal broth for her every day and strictly controlled her diet. Then the Whitmore family's long-lost real son was brought home. "You're feeding my grandmother something that looks like slop? Julian Whitmore, what kind of heart does a fake son like you have?" The butler wiped sweat from his forehead. "Sir, this is Mr. Whitmore's specially prepared medicinal broth. The old madam's been drinking it for years, and her health has only--" "Shut up!" Tyler Whitmore threw an all-foreign-language menu in my face. "I've consulted top nutritionists overseas. What Grandma needs now is protein!" "I've had the finest bluefin tuna flown in. From now on, I'll handle Grandma's diet myself." My grandma, Irene Whitmore, stayed silent. She merely glanced at me, which counted as approval. I forced out a smile and turned to leave. "Fine. Then take good care of her." They had no idea Grandma had been poisoned with a rare tropical toxin. That bowl of medicine was a suppressant I had prepared specifically for her. Once she stopped taking it and touched seafood or other triggering foods, the poison would backlash instantly.

On the night of my tenth wedding anniversary with my billionaire husband, his female secretary called him. Ignoring the fact that I was completely naked, he pulled away and started to leave. I couldn't stop myself from confronting him. He sighed, yet his tone was inexplicably relaxed. "So you finally figured it out. Elowen is young and insecure. She's afraid I'll fall in love with your body again. "She's adorable. Now that I've tasted something young and vibrant, why would I ever settle for what’s withered and spent?" A chill spread through my body, and I stood there frozen. "Silas, that's not a funny joke." He didn't answer. He merely shot me a look of disgust. "She's underestimating herself. "You're nothing but an ambitionless wife, a parasite content to live off me. "I only married you because my family pressured me. Now that everything is going well, I haven't felt anything for you in a long time. "Good thing she called. Otherwise, I wouldn't have known how to end this." As I watched him leave without the slightest hesitation, my entire body trembled. When Silas's company was in crisis, no one wanted to marry a man who was about to take on millions in debt. I was the one who chose him without hesitation and used my own money to help him start over. Yet this was how he repaid me. My heart went cold. I picked up my phone and made a call. "Dad, I'll put the Sicily project in your hands in one week."

After my parents died, the family went bankrupt, leaving my brother and me with a large sum of debt. To pay it off, he became a haunted-house test sleeper, while I acted as a corpse on film sets. For five years, we worked tirelessly, not daring to rest a single day—and still, the debt wasn't cleared. By the end of the year, only 13 thousand dollars remained. Gritting my teeth, I signed up as a clinical trial volunteer. When it was over, I dragged 13 thousand dollars in cash, brimming with joy, to show my brother. But I found him frowning, on the phone. "Dad, Mom, Lily's doing well. Have fun abroad," he said. "She's stopped spending recklessly. The punishment ends next year." What? Our parents weren't dead? Our family wasn't bankrupt? The five years of hardship, every ounce of struggle—I'd endured it all as punishment for my love of spending. My smile froze on my face. My stomach churned violently. A mouthful of fresh blood spilled out.

A man by the name of Michael Burke shows up one day. He gathers four of us who had grown up in the orphanage and introduces himself as the secretary to John Ferguson, the richest man in town. According to him, John's real son had been mistakenly switched as a baby 20 years ago. Anyone who can prove that he's the long-lost son will get to inherit the Ferguson family's entire billion-dollar fortune. The first time around, Luke Carter, ever the manipulative schemer, tricks me into handing over the locket I've had since arriving at the orphanage. He uses it to prove his identity to the Fergusons, but they end up ripping him into pieces. "You're a fake!" Somehow, the four of us are reborn after that. This time, Simon Davis, whose friendship was superficial at best, gets a tattoo of my birthmark and uses that to claim that he's the Fergusons' long-lost son. They end up skinning him alive. "We know you're a fake!" Third time isn't the charm. Tom Egan, my archrival, takes out a loan and pays for plastic surgery to give himself a face that resembles Mrs. Ferguson's. However, the Fergusons throw him into a cage and let a ferocious dog maul him to death. In our fourth life, all three of them are too scared to usurp my identity. They immediately deliver me right to the Fergusons' doorstep. When everyone sees the DNA report that proves I'm the Fergusons' long-lost son, they think that their nightmare has finally ended. But on my very first night back home, the Fergusons push me off the balcony. "Anyone who tries to steal our son's identity deserves to die!" … My eyes open yet again. Michael is standing in front of us, smiling as he asks which one of us is the Fergusons' son. Everyone backs away in horror, insisting that it's not them. "But we've already looked into it. We know that the family's long-lost son grew up in this orphanage," Michael says, his voice strangely ominous.

Dad and my brother, Jonah Atwood, have always favored my sister, Lisa Atwood, while resenting me. At my coming-of-age ceremony, when several werewolves in the Blackwolf pack corners and harasses me, it's Rex Vaughn, the Alpha's heir, who steps in to protect me. He throws the most extravagant mate-bonding ceremony for me, right before the Moon Goddess. Overnight, I become someone every other female wolf wishes they could be! I'm seven months pregnant when I show up at Lisa's birthday party. Somehow, we're ambushed by dark magic. As always, Dad and Jonah put Lisa first. They throw everything they have into shielding and dragging her out of the enemies' barrier, leaving me trapped in the center of the spell circle, nearly consumed. In the end, it's Rex who pulls me out. Later, I wake up in Stone Cabin, only to walk right into a scene that makes my blood run cold. "You paid off an old witch from the Darkmoon pack to set up that spell circle?" Rex's eyes blaze red with fury. "She's only seven months along, and you were already trying to rip the pup out of her? "What? Were you hoping Lily and her pup would blow up and die together?" Jonah and Dad shrink back, trying to explain themselves. "Lisa's wolf is fading fast. The old witch said the only way to save her and her wolf is to sacrifice someone with the same blood immediately…" Rex snaps, "I care about Lisa more than either of you do! Why else do you think I claimed Lily as my mate? Sure, I want to save Lisa, but not by sacrificing Lily and her pup!" That is how I learn the truth. Rex didn't bond with me because he cared. He did it to save Lisa. As it turns out, he's no different from Dad and Jonah. All they ever see is Lisa, the weak-born wolf. I was never part of the picture to begin with. Since no one's ever truly cared about me, I'll walk away with my pup.

This was my eighth life. In the first seven, I died horribly because nobody ever noticed me. Every time, I screamed for help at the top of my lungs. No one ever heard me. So this time, I decided to stop fighting and just wait to die. When I was six, people from a rival family kidnapped me and stuffed me into the trunk of a car. I got comfortable and fell asleep. When the kidnappers opened the trunk, they thought I'd suffocated. They panicked, dumped me by the side of the road, and ran. A cop found me on an old mattress at the dump. I waved him off. "Don't bother with an ambulance. Just call a hearse. And hurry." At 17, my birth parents found me. On the way to the Carlisle estate, I climbed into the trunk like a pro. My mother, Isabella Carlisle, pulled me out, heartbroken. "You poor thing. What have you been through all these years?" "It's fine, Mother. I'm going to die sooner or later anyway." My father, Vincent Carlisle, slammed his hand on the steering wheel. "Stop talking nonsense! You're a Carlisle princess. Nobody would dare hurt you!" But the second we got home, Gianna Carlisle, the girl they'd raised as their own, pretended to slip and came flying at me.

For my grandmother's birthday, I took her downtown to Carlucci Jewelers, the finest jewelry store in the city, to pick up the emerald necklace we had ordered. The saleswoman had barely set it out when a woman dripping with jewelry snatched it off the counter. "They're letting slum rats into the VIP room now? I want that necklace. Throw them out!" For my grandmother's sake, I forced myself to keep my temper. "We already paid the deposit on that necklace. Please put it down." The woman gave me a contemptuous look and tossed it back onto the table. "So what if you paid a deposit? This store doesn't sell custom jewelry to gutter trash who can't even afford Hermès!" I'd been away for six months, and apparently one of my family's businesses had a new policy. I asked the saleswoman beside me about it, but she looked terrified and didn't dare say a word. The woman admired her nails, pleased with herself. "Let me make this clear. Luca, the man behind this store, is my husband! "In here, what I say is Sicilian law!" My grandmother and I both froze, then looked at each other. When did my cousin get engaged? And when had he handed the family's money-laundering operation over to a woman like this? I'd entrusted it to him. My grandmother gave a cold laugh and slowly turned the crucifix over in her fingers. "If Luca can't keep his own woman in line, we'll put someone else in charge."

The day I was discharged from the hospital after giving birth, my mother-in-law, Patricia Whitmore, kept pointing at the baby in my arms and humiliating me the whole way home. "Genevieve, just look at that pathetic thing in your arms. I doubt he'll live very long." I shot back angrily, "Patricia, how could you say that? The doctor said the baby is perfectly healthy!" Patricia curled her lip into a sneer. "You're so ignorant. Here you are, yelling at me when I'm only telling you the truth out of the kindness of my heart." I didn't want to waste my energy arguing with her, so I turned away with the baby in my arms and stared out the window. It wasn't until we got home that my seven-year-old daughter told me something. She told me that she'd seen Patricia secretly switch my perfectly healthy son with the child of my husband's childhood sweetheart, Evelyn Reed. The same child who was suffering from a congenital heart defect. That was when I finally understood why Patricia had been humiliating us. She was acting that way because she thought she had already gotten what she wanted. Unfortunately, she never expected that Nina had already switched her little brother back while they weren't paying attention.

At the party the night before our wedding, I came across a couples' challenge post online: [If I weren't an option, who would you most want to marry?] I smiled as I asked my fiance, Julian Hayes. He didn't hesitate. "Vivian." Vivian Bennett was my younger sister. My best friend chimed in. "Honestly, Vivian does understand him best. Every time you two fight, she's the one who stays up talking to Julian until dawn." Vivian reached over and gave him a playful punch on the chest. "Better keep your fiance in line, sis. Can't have him pining after me all the time." The whole table erupted in laughter. My mother, Margaret Bennett, gave an amused tsk. "It's just a joke. Besides, Vivian never complains the way you do. It's only natural that Julian likes her." Julian glanced at me. "It was just a joke. What, you can't take one again?" I didn't respond. I looked down at the confirmation form the wedding planner had just sent over. The gown, the bouquet, the music, the menu. All chosen to Vivian's taste. So this wedding, from start to finish, had only one thing that was mine: my name in the bride's place. If it didn't matter who the bride was, then there was no point in having this wedding at all.

Mom had one rule, and she never let it go: one good deed a day. When I was little, I saved my allowance for an entire year to buy a doll. Then some girl beside me whispered that she wanted one too, and Mom ripped it out of my arms. "Do one good deed a day. Give her the doll." Later, I barely made it into the best high school in the county. I didn't even get to be happy before Mom told me she'd already signed me up for trade school. "Do one good deed a day. The girl who just missed the cutoff is poor. Give her your spot." Later, at trade school, my roommates stole every cent I had for food and rent. I called Mom, sobbing. "Do one good deed every day. Giving them your money still counts as doing something good." Later, I got a part-time job and ended up sold as a bride to some family way out in the sticks. I texted Mom, begging her to save me. Her reply popped up a second later. [Marriage means sticking it out. Give them a healthy baby boy, and that should cover ten years of good deeds.]

Moving day. My parents passed out keys like candy—one for my brother, one for his wife, one for my younger brother's girlfriend, even one for Maria the housekeeper. Everyone except me. No explanation ever came. Not even as I dragged my suitcase out the front door, my family's laughter fading behind me. If a house had no place for me, it wasn't worth staying in. Three days later, at the airport, about to board my flight, I spotted them. Panic. All over their faces.

After my mother, Yolanda Quinn, becomes chairwoman of my grandfather's company, she abandons Dad and me to be with her old flame. My poor father, Paul Carson, still waits day and night, hoping she'll change her mind and come back to him. Even when he becomes seriously ill, he still can't stop thinking about her. Unable to bear watching Dad die with regrets, I call Yolanda. Yolanda says impatiently, "How many times do I have to tell you? Make an appointment with my secretary!" I look into Dad's desperate eyes and plead, "Ms. Quinn, Dad doesn't have much time left. Please come see him one last time. That's his last wish." When I refuse to back down, she snaps, "What? Is seeing me going to bring him back to life? Why is he still hanging on? If he's going to die, then let him die already! Don't waste my time." She hangs up. Dad completely loses the will to live and dies with resentment. I close Dad's eyes. "In the end, she gets her wish."