Independence Female Growth の短編小説 & 小説

Five years ago, I took the blame for every crime my family had committed and was thrown out of Black City like a stray dog. Five years later, I returned as the Donna—the head of Raven, one of the world's most powerful mafia organizations. Only to find that my family had been framed and destroyed, and our stronghold burned to the ground. In an abandoned slaughterhouse, blood ran across the floor. Isabella, the arrogant heiress of the newly powerful Leoni family, was grinding her red-soled heel into my cousin Marco Franco's face. "You Franco piece of trash. Kneel and beg me, be my dog, and I'll toss you a scrap of food." Blood ran from Marco's nose and mouth, but he clutched the Zippo lighter—my lighter—to his chest and refused to give in. "Get away. Get away from me. Don't put your filthy hands on what Chiara left me." Isabella flew into a rage and slapped him. "You're still mooning over that disowned bitch? "She was disowned and driven out years ago. She's probably selling herself in some red-light district right now!" She raised her hand, signaling her thugs to break Marco's arm. Just then, an armored Humvee smashed through the slaughterhouse's metal doors. I walked across the broken glass to Isabella and backhanded her off her feet. "You lay a hand on a Franco? Who the hell do you think you are?"

My husband and I spend 50 loving years together. On the day of our golden wedding anniversary, someone pushes me down a flight of stairs. As I drift in and out of consciousness, I miraculously regain my hearing. I lost it in the process of saving my husband when we were younger. I hear my husband say to my son, "You shouldn't have dirtied your hands." "How long more are you going to put up with her, Dad? Calista doesn't have much longer to wait." My husband sighs heavily. After a moment, I feel someone remove my oxygen tube. I descend into boundless darkness. When I open my eyes again, I've been taken back to the 80s—before I married my husband. The only difference is that I can hear this time.

Tom Howard had spoiled Jane Lawson for more than 20 years. She had thought that they would naturally end up together, get married, have children, and live a happy life. Until one day, Tom brought a girl back and told her. "Jane, she's your sister-in-law."

On the seventh Christmas of our marriage, my husband, Alan Seaton, who worked in France, finally agreed to let me visit him. That was when I learned he wasn't renting some basement apartment at all. He had bought a spacious three-bedroom apartment. His mother, Maria Seaton, had the primary bedroom. He slept in the second, and the third had been turned into a pink princess room for his mother's goddaughter, Daisy. Even Daisy's dog had a climate-controlled kennel on the balcony. When he caught me staring at the kennel, Alan laughed and patted Daisy on the head. "You treat that dog better than your own mother. You insisted he couldn't suffer, so you even had radiant floor heating installed for him." I stared at the border collie eating imported beef in his kennel, and something inside me broke. For a moment, I had no idea what to say to Alan. Should I tell him that I had worked three jobs to fund his business overseas and that when I had a fever, I could only afford expired acetaminophen? Or that I had lived on sandwiches until a bleeding ulcer made me pass out in my rented room? Before I could decide, Alan pulled me over to the dining table. "You haven't worked in Texas in years anyway. Why don't you sell your house there and move here to take care of my mom? You can look after Daisy's dog too." He had no idea I had sold that house in Texas years ago to clean up the mess he had left behind. Nor did he know that I was the real owner of the multinational company he worked for.

On our fifth wedding anniversary, my husband, Damian Pyke, once again left me for his first love. He said, "Taking care of a child alone isn't easy for Waverly. You're both women—can't you show her some understanding?" Not only was I willing to understand Waverly Benson, but I was also ready to step aside entirely so they could raise her child together. So, I packed my bags and applied for an overseas architecture program through my workplace. However, he eventually regretted it, crying and begging me not to go.

Everyone knew I’d do anything for Lucius Falcone. I was his shadow, his most devoted follower… or, to be blunt, his lapdog. For three years, I trailed after him, indulging his every mafia-heir whim. When he went street racing at midnight, I was in the passenger seat, even when I was burning up with a 104-degree fever. When he was screwing some other woman, he’d call me to bring toys, and I’d show up, no questions asked. Finally, Lucius started to soften. Just when everyone thought I was about to finally get what I’d been working for… At the party celebrating his taking over as Don of the Falcone family, he showed up with some bombshell on his arm. He gave me a bored look and said, "You're dull in bed. Tina, on the other hand, knows how to get me off." The whole room was waiting for me to break down. Instead, I just gave a small smile. "Then congratulations to you both." Then I turned, walked out, and got on a plane to Paris. Lucius was already making bets that I’d come crawling back within three days. What he didn't know was that his mother had paid me five million dollars to do it all. The contract was up. The money was in my account. I was finally free to leave him and to finally chase my own dream in Paris.

For the past ten years, all of Boston society had been guessing whether I would end up marrying Alexander Grant, Nathan Cole, or Julian Vale. One of them took care of every problem that came my way. One remembered every allergy I had. One built me an observatory with a view of the whole city. I never once doubted that I was loved. I had always been the spoiled little princess everyone doted on. Then my mother found her older daughter, Vivian Ashford, who had been missing for twenty-two years. Vivian was the one expected to marry into Black Harbor for the Ashford family. To make up for the life she had lost, the three men started asking me to give up a little at a time. Alexander missed the fitting he had promised to come to, because Vivian needed the practice in front of the cameras more than I did. Nathan canceled the follow-up on my old injury because Vivian had a panic attack when she heard about the medical exam before the wedding. Julian booked the entire observatory to make up for my birthday, then, while I sat there alone until closing, sent me a text that read, "You're the sensible one. Go home by yourself tonight." When I got back to the estate, I asked them why none of them had told me beforehand. But Vivian cried and said she didn't want to be the reason they lost me. So Alexander stepped in front of her, Nathan told me to stop upsetting her, and Julian said I shouldn't be using one broken promise to test whether they loved me. As I turned to leave, I heard them making a pact in that room. "Until the engagement is settled, no more coddling Evelyn." "She'll be angry." "She'll sulk for a few days and get over it. She could never bring herself to leave us for real." They weren't wrong. Back then, I really couldn't bring myself to leave. What they didn't know was that I had already let go, and I was never coming back.

The human world had been taken over by vampires and werewolves. My noble parents wanted to please them, so they married me and their adopted daughter, Sophie, to them separately. In my last life, Sophie chose the strong and loyal werewolf. I chose the graceful and noble vampire. But on a full moon night, the werewolf in heat tore Sophie apart. Meanwhile, I gained eternal life after going through the vampire's Embrace. My parents wanted revenge for Sophie, so they drugged me and sent me to the werewolf's bed, where I was bitten and died. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day we drew lots for marriage. This time, Sophie knocked over the lot box and sweetly said she wanted to marry the vampire. "Anna, it's my turn to live forever." I didn't object and accepted the vicious werewolf. In this new life, Sophie was still so foolish. She thought she could be happy by relying on a man. However, what I wanted was to save all of humanity.

That day we moved into the apartment next to the university, the three boys I’d grown up with started discussing room assignments. There were four bedrooms in total. The second-largest bedroom went to Xavier, the future Alpha heir. The two identical ones went to Lucas, the future Beta, and Victor, the future Gamma. As for the largest bedroom, the one with the best sunlight? They gave it to Lydia. Lydia was the girl the pack had only recently found and brought home. And I was the childhood sweetheart who had grown up with them. I stood at the doorway dragging my suitcase and asked: “Then where do I sleep?” The three of them froze for a moment, as if they’d only just remembered I existed. Lucas said, “You’re always going out of town for academic conferences anyway. The storage room will do.” Xavier, the one who had a marriage contract with me, was still making the last bed for Lydia. He didn’t even look up: “She’s been wandering outside for so long. She finally has a home.” “Cecilia, you don’t mind, right?” They had always believed I wouldn’t mind. Because I had been independent since childhood. I could walk alone through blizzards, and I could always clean up the messes they made. So they could give my room to Lydia and even forget that Xavier and I still had a marriage contract. Since there was no place for me here anymore, there was no reason for me to stay. I lowered my head, opened my phone, and signed the transfer application to Frostwood Academy. In three days I would leave Blackthorn Pack and join the confidential research project that had already invited me long ago. They had already excluded me from their future. This time, I would completely withdraw from their world.

We'd been together seven years before Damian Caruso finally agreed to the wedding. Inside St. Patrick's Cathedral, I stood at the aisle in a lace gown, surrounded by the most dangerous mafia elders from New York and New Jersey. Three minutes, and the Don would take his vows and take over the rest of my life. Then he answered a phone call. "Bella got into a car accident. In Brooklyn." Bella. The orphan of a dead servant. The "life debt" Damian owed her. Her needs always came before mine. When a gun was to my head, he was at her therapy. When I nearly went into shock from fever, he missed my call because he was staying the night with Bella, who's afraid of the dark. Now, at our vows, Damian turned to the priest. "Apologies. Something's come up. The wedding is postponed." The room erupted. Young lieutenants laughed openly, their whispers crawling up the aisle. "$100,000 says our future Donna lets the Don go to Bella. She's been trained too well." Damian heard them. His head snapped toward the row of young lieutenants, and the laughter died instantly. No one moved. No one breathed. He turned to the priest. "Apologies. Something's come up. The wedding is postponed." Then he saw me. Something flickered in his eyes—not guilt, not hesitation. Just the calm expectation of a man who had never once doubted I would still be there when he returned. He draped his coat over my shoulders. "Viola, I have to go. You've always been the sensible one. As future Donna, you know how to handle this. Don't let them make a joke of us." Yeah. I used to be so "sensible." For seven years, I swallowed every grievance and cleaned up his messes. "Go. I'll wait here." My voice was calm. He nodded, satisfied, and strode out. The bells rang seven times—seven years of me bleeding for him. When the seventh fell, his car had vanished around the corner. And with it, the last of my hope. Damian thought I'd be waiting, like always. But this time, I was done.

It's our fifth wedding anniversary. I've booked a table at a riverside restaurant and set my pregnancy test report right in the center of the table. 9:00 pm comes and goes with no sign of my husband, Yosef Sinclair. Just as I reach for my phone, the cake delivery person texts to ask for my location. I send it over, then call Yosef. A ringtone chimes right behind me. I turn around and see Yosef walking in, looking sharp in his suit. I'm about to nag him for being late until I see him holding a cake box and answering his phone. "I'm working. I'll—" Before he finishes speaking, he visibly pauses, then asks in a low voice, "You ordered this? Meeting friends? Just don't stay out too late." He sets the cake down right on top of my test report and turns on his heel. All that I'm left with is the sight of his retreating figure. A moment later, his voice floats back in from outside. "Nobody. Come on. Let's just finish this last order, and I'll treat you to a nice dinner today!" I look out the window. Yosef is getting into a car with Clara Lawson, the bakery owner. She slips into the passenger seat like she's done it a thousand times. A minute later, my phone vibrates. I tap it open with my numb fingers. It's a new Instagram post from Clara, showing a pink rose bouquet with a sliver of a black suit in the background. The caption reads, "A guy who buys me flowers, works overtime with me, and takes me out for dinner? He's a keeper!" I like the post, put my phone down, and quietly tell the waiter to bring out the food. I've spent three months trying to snag a table at this place. No way am I letting good food go to waste. Besides, I'm leaving this city in three days and putting an end to this broken marriage.

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.

My dorm mate, Chloe Dawson, had a sweet voice, but she wasn't very pretty. She loved online dating and had four online boyfriends at the same time. She looked at me with a smug smile. "Ivy, no guy ever wants you. How about I give you one of my boyfriends? He wants to meet me today anyway." I was about to refuse when strange words suddenly appeared in front of me. [Heroine, don't give the villainess the male lead's contact info! Sure, you used her photos to get his attention online, but he's not that shallow. He loves you for who you are!] [The villainess is just a poor student on financial aid. How could someone like her ever take the heroine's place and date the male lead?] [Exactly! Heroine, don't do anything stupid! The male lead is Nathan Ashworth, CEO of the Ashworth Group! You can't just hand a great guy like him over to someone else!]

Coming home from a late shift on a winter night, my fingers were stiff with cold. The first thing I did was head for the bathroom. Ethan stopped me, a bowl of late-night leftovers in his hand. “What took you so long? Rena’s in the bath. Just wait a bit.” I glanced at the clock. It was already eleven thirty. “I have to be up at six. Could you ask her to finish earlier next time?” He frowned. “It’s just a bath. Do you really have to make an issue of it?” When we’d been apartment hunting, I suggested getting a place with two bathrooms. Ethan insisted on this one because it was close to his and Serena’s office. Their commute was ten minutes. Mine meant three transfers and nearly four hours round trip. Back then he’d said, “I’ll drive you to and from work. You won’t have to cram onto the subway.” Six months later, not once. The bathroom door opened and Serena walked out in my bathrobe. “Sorry, Quinn, I didn’t know you’d still need to shower this late. If I’d known, I wouldn’t have soaked so long.” Ethan immediately grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around her, then bent down to towel off her wet hair. “Don’t worry about it. You don’t owe her an apology. She’s just tired from work. On edge.” A sudden wave of weariness washed over me. I set down the towel I’d been drying my hands with and slipped off my engagement ring. “Right. On edge.” “So this place is all yours.”

Right before I hit forty, my husband hit me with: "I want a divorce." For the past ten years, I had been driving a truck outside every day to support my family, while he had been cheating on me at home. Even our child was no longer close to me. "Bad Mom! You hit Jenny! Bad Mom!" Willy cried. "I don't want Mom. I want Jenny. I wanna stay with Dad and Jenny!" Jenny. The neighbor. Single mom. Her kid and ours were tight. Ten years of grinding, running myself ragged—for two ingrates? All right! Wish your family of four a happy life! I didn't want my husband or son anymore.

I'm a family law attorney. My specialty is winning divorce cases for other people. I never imagined that one day, I'd be drafting my own divorce papers. For six years of marriage, Adrian read to me for ten minutes every night. He said it was our little marriage ritual. That was until I came home early from a business trip and heard his voice coming from my female neighbor’s apartment next door. "Vivi, which chapter do you want to hear tonight?" I stood outside her door, still holding the birthday cake I'd bought for him. I turned around, went home, opened my laptop, and went through our marital asset inventory from top to bottom. Later, Adrian knelt outside my law firm, his voice so hoarse it was barely recognizable. He said, "Serena, I was just helping her fall asleep. I never touched her." I set the voice recorder in front of him, and out came words he'd said himself. "She'll never leave me. She's too rational, which actually makes her the easiest to manipulate." I smiled. "Adrian, do you think the judge will find me easy to manipulate too?"

I was the late Don's favorite daughter. Marrying into the Rossi family, one of the four great families, was an honor they scarcely deserved. On my wedding day, the Rolls-Royce had barely pulled up at the church when a woman in a plain cotton dress knelt on the steps, a baby in her arms. My groom, Carlos Rossi, stepped into my path in his tailored suit, looking torn. "Isabella, Lily was with me during a shootout in the South District... She gave me a son, and now she has nowhere else to go. "We're standing before God today. Why not let her come back to the estate with us? "You'll be the lady of the house. Lily can be my mistress. That way, the Rossi family will have its heir." The mob bosses and guests gathered at the church entrance broke into shocked murmurs. Carlos's grandmother, Maria Rossi, spoke without so much as raising her eyes. "Ms. Marino has standing of her own. She hardly needs to fight for a title. "But for generations, the Rossi family has had only one heir. This boy is our future. We can't let him grow up a bastard, can we?" The Rossi family's enforcers dropped to one knee in unison. "Please, Ms. Marino, show mercy!" I glanced down at the swaddled baby, then at Carlos's pleading eyes. Then I smiled. I took off my diamond tiara, rested it on the car's window ledge, and got back into my own bulletproof car. "Carlos, if you want to carry on your bloodline, I won't stop you. "But my father's will was clear: I was marrying down. He wasn't handing me over as a gift. "If the Rossi family can't handle the honor, I'll take it back." Before I'd even finished speaking, 12 Maybachs pulled up in perfect formation in the square outside the church. A man as handsome as a Greek god strode up to the car door. "Ms. Marino, I'm here to take you home."

Eight years of marriage, and never once had I imagined I'd be at a charity gala, listening to my husband's family discuss my divorce. That night, Louis's mother was hosting a dinner party at their Florida coastal estate. I went to the study to find Louis, but stopped just outside the door when I heard his father Richard's voice: "She still doesn't know?" The lawyer, David, answered, "As long as Louis files the divorce petition by the end of the month, the family trust kicks in. By then, Joyce can move into the house by the lake." Divorce? My blood ran cold. And Joyce—that was Louis's ex-girlfriend. I turned and walked back to the banquet hall. Louis appeared moments later, sliding his arm around my waist like nothing had happened. I didn't confront him. Instead, I took the property, bank, and company documents I'd kept all these years and went to see a lawyer named Rachel. She flipped to the "Corporate Restructuring Authorization" I'd signed three years ago at Louis's request, and her face went pale. "Your husband used your signature to transfer all your marital equity into the family company." I was silent for a few seconds, then suddenly laughed. So this was what they'd been planning—not just a divorce. They wanted to leave me with nothing? I closed the file. "Then let's divorce." Rachel looked at me. "Are you sure?" "Of course." I picked up my bag. "The marriage can end." "But what he took from me... he doesn't get to keep a single piece of it."

In the five years of their marriage, Kimberly bore a son for Daniel, believing their life together would last. Then Siena returned to the country. Kimberly finally realized she was nothing but an outsider the whole time. Daniel repeatedly chose Siena over her, and even her son grew attached to Siena. Fortunately, their marriage was just a contract, and in seven days, she would be free to leave.

On yearbook photo day, I went over and stood next to my boyfriend, Blake Whitmore. Madison Vance, the cheer captain and sorority president, showed up late, and the crowd parted for her without being asked. A path opened straight to Blake, who stood dead center. "What took you so long? You just turned every head in the place." Blake smiled softly and pulled her into the spot beside him. I was pushed out of the frame. Tyler Brooks, my friend since childhood, caught my arm. "Claire, don't fight Madison for the spot. She's the main character today." Then he traded places with me and took the spot next to her. The crowd started whooping. The fraternity president stood on one side and the vice president on the other, with Madison safely between them. When the group shot was done, the whooping started up again. Blake and Madison had won Cutest Couple in this year's yearbook by a landslide. A hairline crack opened inside my chest, and the cold seeped through it. I was the one dating Blake. Everyone had voted for them anyway. Out on the lawn, the photographer guided the two of them through one close pose after another. Then he called out to us. "Mr. President, where's your fraternity pin? Put it on your queen!" My hand went to the Greek-letter pin over my heart. Blake looked over at me and jogged toward me. "Babe, let me borrow it. Don't be stingy." He took my wrist and moved my hand aside, then removed the pin he'd fastened there himself three years ago. People around us started murmuring. "Oh, that's her. Claire. Blake's girlfriend." "I never even noticed her... She really doesn't stand out." Something in me went hollow, and my hands closed into fists. Your moment of glory has nothing to do with me. So from now on, my life has nothing to do with you.