Plot Twists Short Stories & Independence Family Emotions Novels

On the morning of my eighteenth birthday, I collapsed in the pack clinic after my ninety-ninth blood donation to my twin sister, Maeve. She'd been cursed since birth—a curse that could only be sustained by my blood. Our shared bond from the womb was the only thing keeping the dark magic at bay. When I woke up, the healer told me I had developed Aplastic anemia—a rare condition where my bone marrow was failing. Years of constant donations had finally broken my body down, and my wolf, Aurora, was too weak to fight it. I rushed to tell my family, hoping that this time would be different, only to find them at the bakery ordering a custom birthday cake with only Maeve's name on it. They'd forgotten my birthday entirely, even though we were twins born five minutes apart. At first, my sacrifice was met with love and praise. Now, it was nothing more than an obligation everyone expected. My family had chosen Maeve over me countless times before. This time, I decided to choose myself. I had two weeks before I would slip away from this pack house and their lives. Two weeks to prepare everything in silence while they remained oblivious. They would think I'd finally learned my place as Maeve's blood supply. But they would never realize I was counting down the days until I disappeared from their lives forever. By then, it would be too late.

I was seven the first time I pulled a trigger. From 550 yards away, I killed a pirate who was hijacking a shipment. I grew up by the water, and two families claimed me as their daughter. The first was the Salvatore family. Their fake heiress wanted me to take the fall for her on a trafficking charge. I put her in federal prison instead. Life without parole. The second was the Vasiliev family. Their fake heiress got on her knees and swore she wouldn't compete with me. Then she paid someone to kill me. I sent her and the money to the bottom of the harbor. It took a third DNA test for anyone to realize I was the biological daughter of the Macchetti family. The old crime family that controlled a sixth of the East Coast. On my first day back at the estate, Chiara knelt in front of me and pressed a gun to her own temple. "I'm sorry. I've spent all these years in your place. If I'm in your way, I can die right now." My mother's knees buckled. She lunged forward and pulled Chiara into her arms. My brother pointed at me. "Chiara has a serious heart condition. You've been back one day, and you already want her dead?" Even Lorenzo Falcone, the fiancé I was meeting for the first time, spoke up. "If a single hair on her head is harmed, I'm calling off the engagement tomorrow." I walked over, took the gun out of her hand, ejected the magazine, and checked the chamber. It was empty. I crouched down and put it back in her hand. "Next time you fake a suicide attempt, don't forget to load it. "After all... "An unloaded gun is a toy."

After the college entrance exams, my parents finally agree to take me to visit Everleigh Palace in Jatwick. I pack my bags a full month in advance, meticulously drafting a list of every wish I want to make—wishes for my parents, wishes for my siblings, and wishes for Joel Sutton, my childhood friend. The night before our departure, my younger sister, Yvonne Jarrow, suddenly announces that she wants to go to Novenport to see the ocean. My heart sinks. A second later, Dad pulls out his phone and starts changing our tickets. "The weather's been great lately. It's perfect for a seaside vacation," he says excitedly. Mom immediately swaps out her everyday clothes for swimsuits and hats. "The sun down south is brutal. I've got to pack plenty of sunscreen for Yvonne." My older brother, Stefan Jarrow, starts searching for seaside hotels. Without even looking up, he says, "I've been saying there's nothing fun in Jatwick anyway. Compared to Yvonne, Alice doesn't know how to have fun." I turn to Joel, pinning my last remaining hope on him. He once promised he would take me to Everleigh Palace so we could make a wish together at the old fountain. Now, all he does is cancel my flight ticket for me. "Alice, Yvonne means well. She just wants you to have a more enjoyable summer holiday," he says, his voice gentle but firm. He glances at me before adding, "Be sensible. Don't ruin the fun for everyone." Be sensible. I've been hearing those two words for the past 18 years. This time, I don't want to hear it anymore. Without a word, I cancel my flight ticket to Novenport. Instead, I use all my savings to buy a ticket to Jatwick. Days later, I stand before the old fountain at Everleigh Palace and make my wish with all my heart. However, this time, it isn't for anyone else. I make a wish for myself.

At the dinner table, my mother-in-law slid a contract across to me, right in front of more than 20 relatives. "Just sign it," she said lightly. "Consider it a favor to me." I looked down. A home mortgage agreement for 150,000 dollars. Across from me, my husband's younger brother, Jim Canfield, watched with a grin. Beside him, my husband's eldest sister, Cindy Canfield, urged impatiently, saying, "Shirley, what are you waiting for? Just sign it." I said I needed to go home and talk it over with Howard Canfield first. My mother-in-law's expression darkened. "What? You can't even make this decision for your own marriage?" That night, I did not sign anything. Later, she sent a three-minute voice message in the family group chat, accusing me of being childish, ungrateful, and heartless. More than 70 replies followed—not a single one in my defense. A month later, I came home from work to find three men waiting at my door, there to seize the house. I pulled out my phone and checked the property registry. The record was clear. [Mortgaged. 150,000 dollars.]

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.

My wife was in a car accident and barely clinging to life, but I calmly stood outside the operating room listening to a sales agent introduce a new apartment to me. The doctor, covered in blood, came up to me. "The patient was impaled by a hard object in her lower body. There are two options. We can remove her uterus immediately, or we can try to preserve the organ, but that will require extremely precise equipment and the cost will be very high. "Please decide quickly. She doesn't have much time." I answered impatiently, "Then remove it. Don't waste the effort." When my mother-in-law heard that, she broke down in front of me, wailing. "Jason, I'm begging you. Use the money to save my daughter. If they remove it, how is she supposed to hold her head up for the rest of her life?" My father-in-law pleaded through tears too. "She's your wife. Can you really bear to watch her lose the chance to be a mother? Aren't you going to think about your own future?" I quickly stepped back and said, "If you want to save her, pay for it yourselves. I don't have any money." "Didn't we give all our money to you two? Take out the four hundred fifty thousand dollars you saved to buy a house and save her first!" My voice shot up instantly. "What? Spend four hundred fifty thousand dollars to save a piece of rotten meat? Are you kidding me?" As I spoke, I tossed my card to the sales agent and paid in full on the spot for the new apartment I had just chosen.

My dad, who has gotten remarried and cut off contact with me years ago, suddenly sends me one dollar via Venmo, saying he wants to borrow my new car for two days. Thinking he wants to mend our relationship, I remind him to take good care of it before handing over the keys. That very afternoon, I stumble across a livestream of my half-brother street racing. The car he's driving is unmistakably my brand-new vehicle. In the livestream, the car is covered in crude graffiti, and the interior is a mess. I immediately take a cab over to stop my half-brother, only to be humiliated by him during our first meeting. "Who the hell are you? My dad says I'm his only son!" Only then do I realize that I no longer have a place in my dad's life. What they don't know is that the car is a gift from my CEO girlfriend. And she never lets anyone bully the people she cares about.

At the end of the year, I came home late from work with a few bottles of premium milk and some fruit the company had handed out. Ethan loved it. He kept telling me how good it was. I laughed. "Of course it's good. That's ten dollars a bottle." My wife heard me, and her face changed in an instant. "Oh, that's wonderful. You get ten-dollar milk at the office, and your son and I are only good enough for the cheap stuff?" I stared at her. I hadn't even drunk any of it. I'd saved it to bring home. No matter how I explained, she wouldn't let it go. Finally I lost my temper. "I make a quarter of a million dollars a year. What's wrong with me drinking that milk?" "Without me," she said, "you and your son would be paying for tap water."

During the holidays, my boyfriend, Felix Zimmerman, insists on bringing his female best friend, Cassidy Crowther, home for dinner. Everyone keeps fussing over Cassidy. Even Felix's mother, Helen Danes, takes Cassidy's hand and asks her about her life. Her eyes are already crinkling from how wide her smile has become. But when Helen notices me being ignored by everyone else, she's quick to frown at me. "Sienna, if you have nothing to do, you might as well help out in the kitchen." At the dining table, Felix keeps placing food on Cassidy's plate. When I mutter to Felix to help grab me a piece of crab due to how far the crabs are from me, he goes impatient immediately. Heck, he doesn't even bother glancing at me. "Can't you see that I'm busy? You can go get it yourself!" Left without a choice, I can only rise to my feet. But Felix's dad, Andrew Zimmerman, quickly stops me when he spots me reaching for the plate of crabs. "The act of peeling crabs is very unlady-like, Sienna. That's why you shouldn't have any." I'm pissed, to say the least. So, I dig out my phone and upload a post on my social media feed. "Does anyone want to invite me to their family dinner tonight?" Numerous text messages blast up my phone the next moment. Countless scions from various wealthy and influential families in Hillsbury quickly leave comments on my post. "Ms. Winslow, may I have the honor of inviting you to dinner with me?" "My home works too! My parents keep telling me that they haven't seen you in such a long time!"

I was sent to a correctional facility by my family for five years. The first thing I learned there was obedience. If people told me to do one thing, I would never dare do anything else. The day my wife, Casey Anderson, came to pick me up, she stood at the entrance and said coldly, "If you dare say another bad word about Roger, I'll make sure you never speak again." The moment she finished speaking, I turned and ran straight into traffic. When she saw me get thrown by the impact of the car, she nearly lost her footing. At the hospital, my foster brother stood beside my bed with a sinister smile. "So you actually managed to survive. But that's fine. I have plenty of ways to kill you and make sure you never make it home." After saying that, he smashed the bowl of porridge onto the floor, then deliberately fell onto the shattered glass as he cried out loudly, "Bobby, if you hate me that much, I'll leave! Please, just let me go!" My mother and Casey happened to walk in at that exact moment. Casey immediately rushed over to help Roger up. My mother, meanwhile, slapped me hard across the face. "You'll never change, huh? If Roger's hand is ruined because of you and he can't play the piano anymore, I'd rather see you dead in this hospital bed." Obediently, I walked toward the window and jumped. The harsh, sharp-tongued woman who had always been my mother—and Casey as well—went completely pale with fear. I happened to crash onto my father's car. Trembling, he threw open the door and shouted for the medical staff. My consciousness gradually faded. Then, a system suddenly appeared and said, "Congratulations, Host. You have completed ninety-nine tragic storylines. Finish this final one, and you will be able to return to your original world and revive your younger sister."

To ensure fairness, my daughter said that she would draw lots to choose whose family to spend the New Year’s with every year. However, for the past nine years, she had spent the New Year’s with her in-laws. The latest draw was no different. On New Year’s Eve, my daughter gave me specific instructions. “Mom, we’re spending the New Year’s with my in-laws. We’ve made a reservation at the most expensive restaurant in town. Please help me save some money. You can just make some food at home for your dinner.” Hence, on New Year’s Eve, I ate alone while watching TV at home. When I stood up, I accidentally knocked over the raffle box. All the lots inside the box had my daughter’s handwriting. The words ‘in-laws’ were clearly written on every single one of them. For the past ten years, the lots had been fake. My daughter was willingly spending the New Year’s celebration with her in-laws, and she had never once thought of spending it with me, her biological mother, who had spent so much money on her. At the same time, I got a notification on my phone. Her mother-in-law posted something on social media. [My daughter-in-law is so lovely. She bought me so many gifts and chose to spend the New Year’s with us. It’s as if she’s our own daughter!] They smiled brightly in the video. On the table were gifts that she bought using my retirement fund. I did not sleep for the whole night. The next morning, I called the bank. “Please remove all the auto-debit accounts from my retirement account.” From then on, I would only spend my money on myself.

My younger sister Ruth and I got a do-over, reborn to the day we were about to be adopted. Ruth clung to Jeremy, the butcher who'd taken me in during my last life, and begged, "Please, Mr. Butcher, let me be your daughter!" She thought she had it all figured out—Jeremy Butcher was set to rise to power, while the rich couple adopting her would crash and burn. It was clear—she was gunning for the life I built in my last run. I just smiled. She had no clue. Jeremy's success? Yeah, that was all me. Without my help, he'd stay a small-town butcher forever. From day one, Ruth was chasing a dream that was already doomed.

To get rid of our pup and date with his assistant on Valentine's Day, my mate Marcus forced our injured pup to go rock climbing and poisoned him. When I rushed my dying pup to the hospital, I unexpectedly saw my mate accompanying his assistant for a prenatal checkup. Our terrified pup lay convulsing from the poison, but Marcus didn’t even care about him. "He's just an Omega. If he was a proper wolf, he'd heal instantly!" I clutched the $100 million Moonlight Blessing herb in my pocket. I accidentally found it in the forest this morning. I was planning to tell him the good news today. But now? It was time to break this five-year mate bond.

I host a late-night campus radio show and have been on the air for three years. I take calls about cheating, scandals, and even people threatening to end their lives. The final night to submit college choices is also my last night on the air before graduation. At 11:30 pm, an anonymous call comes through. It's a guy. "Host, I changed my sister's college choices for my mom tonight," he says. "I have two sisters. Ever since we were kids, the older one has been better at everything than the younger one. "She gets better grades, she's prettier, and even strangers praise her. "This year, my younger sister is just 20 points short of the cutoff, while my older sister is certain to get into a top university. "So I changed all my older sister's college choices to schools she can't get into. That way, she has to wait a year and apply again. "She's smart anyway. If she takes the exam again and reapplies, she can get into an even better school. It all works out in the end." He pauses. "We just want my little sister to win for once. That's not too much to ask for, is it?" I grip the microphone but say nothing. Suddenly, another guy's voice comes through the line. "Host, I'm the older sister's boyfriend. We've been together for three years. Honestly, I do feel bad about this. "Could you play her a song? She listens to your show every night. If she hears it and comes to see me tomorrow, we can still talk about which schools she should apply to. "If she doesn't hear it, then I guess it doesn't matter." I take a deep breath and reach out to end the call. Suddenly, the producer cuts to a piano piece. I freeze, my blood running cold. It's the song I taught my childhood best friend to play, note by note, back when I was 16 years old. Only the two of us know this song.

The day my college acceptance letter arrived, I found a post on Mom's phone asking strangers for advice. [I promised my older daughter I'd pay for her college, but now my younger daughter wants to apply too. How can I give the tuition I saved for my older daughter to my younger one without the older one holding it against me?] Every reply said the same thing. [You already promised your older daughter. Why would you betray her? Can't you find some other way?] Dazed, I accidentally hit refresh, and a familiar profile picture popped up. It belonged to my brother. [That's not really betrayal. It's your money, and you can spend it on whoever you want!] [I'm family, so I'll be honest. The older daughter is an Omega, the lowest rank there is. She's been slow since she was little, her grades are average at best, and whatever school she gets into is bound to be terrible.] [But the younger daughter is different. She's a noble Beta, just like the rest of us, and she's always had excellent grades. Plenty of colleges will want her, and our whole family is happy to spend the money on her.] My mate chimed in under my brother's comment. [He's right. Once the younger one gets in, we can all go stay with her and take care of her so she can focus on her studies.] I gripped my phone, my heart aching. My family and my future mate had always favored my Beta sister. They bought my sister expensive makeup and told me I was plain, not a tenth as pretty as her, so makeup would be wasted on me. They took my sister to all kinds of parties and told me I was too awkward, not bubbly and outgoing like her, and I'd just kill the mood. Even now, when it came to college, they thought I wasn't as good as my sister. I looked at the acceptance letter on my computer. Then I chose the university more than 600 miles from home because it had offered me a full tuition waiver. I was done with this home where I'd never been anyone's favorite.

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.

After my parents passed away, Uncle Mike took me in. When greedy relatives tried to snatch away my inheritance, he chased them off with a kitchen knife. “As long as I’m here, nobody lays a finger on this girl!” Aunt Rachel doted on me, calling me her precious baby and making me nutritious meals every day. My cousin Pete secretly slipped me pocket money and made sure to pick me up and drop me off at school, afraid I might get bullied. The neighbors all said I was lucky and to repay their kindness someday. On graduation day, I cooked them a lavish meal to show my appreciation. Every dish was laced with rat poison. I didn’t spare a single soul, not even the neighbors. I killed them all!

After I bought my new home outright, my relatives organized a housewarming party to celebrate. During dinner, my nephew Leo suddenly said, “You’re just a spinster living alone in a huge apartment. What do you need all that space for? I happen to be getting married soon. That’s a huge deal. You should transfer the place to me. I’ll even cover the transfer fee.” I was stunned. “Are you out of your mind?” His mother Linda said, “How can you be so ungrateful? Him using your place for his newlywed life is doing you a favor. It’ll bring you good luck! Other people would jump at the chance!” The son and mother were united against me. “Anyway, tomorrow’s a great day. Grab the property deed and come with us to transfer ownership!” I rejected them without hesitation and called them crazy. Who knew they would get so furious that they would storm into my brand-new apartment and go on a rampage, smashing everything in sight. They even said smugly, “We need to show you our family doesn’t get pushed around! Go ahead and call the police! What proof do you even have that it was us?” What they did not know was that I had installed surveillance cameras on the day I moved in.

Ever since I was little, my mother, Cynthia, used me as a living cautionary tale whenever she wanted to teach my older brother, Oliver, a lesson. When Oliver bullied a kid at school, she made me shave my head and pick up trash so he could see what it was like to be humiliated and laughed at. When Oliver stole an action camera from an outdoor gear store, she made me kneel in the snow and apologize to the manager so he'd learn what shame felt like. Lately, Oliver had become obsessed with extreme sports and started messing with pills from who-knows-where. To make the lesson stick, Mom secretly mixed something that would make me throw up and a muscle relaxant into the vitamin capsules I took after breakfast every day. She figured a dose that small would only make me throw up and give me diarrhea, just enough to scare my brother. But I had a bad cold and had already taken cold medicine. The combination of drugs soon left me struggling to breathe. I collapsed on the rug, convulsing. Dad rushed me to the ER, but on the way, we hit a police checkpoint. He'd already passed the breathalyzer when Mom shouted at the officers, "You need to check him again! He's on sedatives. How did you miss that?" She pointed at me in the back seat, my face already turning blue, then jerked her chin toward Oliver. "See that? Are you ever going to swallow random pills people give you again?" Oliver burst into tears and swore he'd never touch those pills again. Only then did Mom look satisfied. What she didn't notice was that her living cautionary tale could barely lift a hand. Mom, you're always complaining that Oliver never learns his lesson. Maybe losing me will finally teach him the lesson you've been trying so hard to drill into him. Would that make you happy?

After watching my mother’s marriage fall apart disastrously, I somehow went back ten years into the past and ran into my mother’s younger self. My mother had asked me excitedly, “Zoe, after your dad’s undercover operation ended, did he give me a wedding? Like, was it churchy or more modern? Did we end up in that nice house with the big backyard?” I forced down the lump in my throat and answered her, “There was no wedding. You didn’t get a house either. As for Dad… he married someone else.” My mother was silent for a long time. I thought she did not believe me, so I grew anxious and said, “Mom, you need to leave him now. If you stay, your life will fall apart. “He has a daughter named Melody, who turned out to be my classmate. He was never an undercover agent. He’s actually the heir of Xanders Group in Harbor City. He’s been lying to you this whole time and pretending to be broke just to string you along. “Melody’s mom eventually found out about you. You lost your job and home. In the end, you fell into depression and took your own life.” I noticed my mother’s eyes welling up in tears. “Today’s Children’s Day, right? You probably saw Dad taking some woman and her daughter to a theme park, didn’t you? “Go talk to that woman. Ask her about it. Then, you’ll learn the truth.”