Cerita Pendek & Novel Independence

On our wedding day, my wife's first love, Hank Scott, threatened to slit his wrists. She ignored him and went through with the ceremony anyway, until news arrived that he was dead, his blood staining the ground. From that moment on, Shirley Lowell withdrew into a convent, becoming the cold, distant woman everyone knew. In the name of atonement, she forced me to copy the Bible a thousand times and kneel in endless prayer, grinding me down until I was crippled. Bound to a wheelchair, I asked her for a divorce. She refused, saying we owed Hank a debt and had to atone for it together. She used my family to threaten me, keeping me by her side and tormenting me for the rest of my life. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on our wedding day. This time, I chose to push her toward Hank. I would become the first love in her heart, the one who led her onto the path of devout faith.

On the day of the topping-out ceremony for the resettlement housing, my mother, Diana Knowles, insists on reporting me to the authorities for shoddy workmanship. It's all because my cousin, Marco Sanford, went to play at the construction site, stepped into the freshly set cement, and scraped his knee. "You think you're so great just because you built a couple of buildings?" Mom screams at me. "I can't just stand by and watch you put the whole town in danger just to make millions of dollars by pocketing the difference!" Marco clutches his bandage and explains quietly, "It's all my fault for climbing over the fence to play there, Aunt Diana. The construction workers even tried to stop me. It really has nothing to do with Kevin." The project supervisor, Pete Warner, and the town mayor, Hugo Larkin, also hurriedly produce the inspection report. "Mrs. Sanford, the cement, steel bars, and load-bearing cement are all up to standard. This project is a public housing project that the state government is monitoring very closely, and it's going to be a huge deal if we even stop work for a day." Mom, however, holds her head high and yells in a voice louder than a megaphone, saying, "If Kevin dares to let his relatives get hurt at the construction site, then who knows what else he'll dare to do to the rest of the people by giving them shoddy construction? "Stop flattering him! The fact that he became the project manager for this proves that I understand better than you what it means to be a reliable person!"

At the birthday banquet of the old Godfather, Salvatore Moretti, the estate was bustling with high-profile guests. Don Marco Moretti arrived late, bringing along his new secretary, Sophie. "Elena, move to the opposite side. It's Sophie's first time at an event like this, and she’s used to sitting next to me." I didn't hesitate for a single second. Picking up my wine glass, I walked straight over and sat down beside Salvatore, whose face was completely grim. Marco raised an eyebrow, seemingly caught off guard by how compliant I was. He then guided a visibly nervous Sophie into the seat that had just been mine. Soon after, my phone buzzed in my hand. 【Are you making a scene again? How many times do I have to tell you? I just brought the girl out to show her the world. Stop throwing these pathetic, jealous tantrums.】 【I’ll fly you to Paris next week to pick out your wedding dress. Stop giving me the cold shoulder, alright?】 I let out a soft laugh. Seeing the smile on my face from across the table, Marco smiled back, thinking he had smoothed things over. What he didn't know—What I was actually laughing at was the fact that we wouldn't be going to Paris at all. Exactly ten minutes before he walked through the door, I had already finalized the dissolution of our engagement with Salvatore. A notification from the airline popped up on my screen: Flight departing in three hours. Marco, after tonight, you and I are completely finished.

My husband had a heart attack on his way to work and died. All I could see was his body when I rushed to the hospital. I was heartbroken and bedridden. When I was about to die, I saw on the news that he won a lottery ticket worth 300 million dollars. My bestie cashed the prize money with him. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day when my husband faked his death. But I wanted to make his death real this time! “Are you from the funeral home? My husband is dead. We need to plan a cremation for him right away!”

Around the seventh month of my pregnancy, I overheard a conversation between my mate, Zane Andrews, and Ciara Phillips, the she-wolf I had taken in out of compassion after her family was brutally slaughtered by rogues. In a sultry, flirtatious tone, Ciara purred, “Zane, my love, if your wife discovers that the fertilized egg I planted in her womb isn’t truly hers by blood, she’ll be devastated—perhaps to the point of despairing suicide, don’t you think?” Zane snorted, his voice dripping with disdain at the mention of me. “It’ll work for us if she simply dies from heartbreak. Damn it. I can’t shake the worry that she might sever our bond and leave me with nothing. Let’s keep this under wraps until our child inherits all her assets. Only then will we reveal the bombshell, plunging her into darkness.” Ciara giggled, praising Zane for his cunning. My claws itched to lash out, but I held back, knowing the time for confrontation wasn’t yet. My heart sank as their betrayal cut deep. Years ago, I had defied my pack elders’ warnings about Ciara being a potential threat, taking her in and grooming her into our pack's doctor, funding her education out of sheer empathy. Now, I regretted every moment of my kindness. To think that my mate, who had once begged for my protection for his fragile pack, had the audacity to betray me. If not for my support, his pathetic pack would have crumbled long ago, leaving him nursing his wounds in a dark corner, fretting over survival. After a long moment of contemplation, I made my decision. I would feign ignorance to their schemes and play along by giving birth to Ciara’s baby. Two decades passed. Ciara’s child grew up, bearing the name Simon Andrews. Aware of their treachery, I still transferred all my assets to him. Once the paperwork was completed, Ciara boldly approached me in front of the entire pack, a maternity DNA test in hand. With a smug smile, she declared, “Leia Holland, look at this! I am Simon’s biological mother. Leave h

Back when I was young and dumb, I slapped some college guy working a side gig at a nightclub. My boyfriend had just ditched me for my best friend, Vanessa Shannon. Then, not even five minutes later, I caught her in the corner, sliding her hand under another guy's shirt. He bit his lip and just took it. Something in my brain short-circuited. I stood up and walked over. If Vanessa wanted him, why couldn't I? But the second I reached for him, he smacked my hand away. Vanessa cracked up. The whole private room turned to watch. Mortified, I slapped him. "You work at a place like this. Don't play innocent." Later, my family went broke, and I ended up working at a nightclub just to get by. The private room was loud as hell. I lost a game, and everyone at the table started chanting for me to take my bra off. My face went hot. I stood there, completely frozen. Then a low voice cut through the noise with a cold laugh. "You work at a place like this. Don't play innocent." I looked up. Our eyes locked. His stare was icy, full of pure mockery. It was the college guy I'd slapped years ago.

After being rushed to the hospital and brought back from another relapse, I vaguely heard my family arguing. "This is already the second time this month. When will it end?! Why isn't he dead yet?!" "Mom, don't say that! I've decided, I'll start working right after graduation to earn money!" My dad scolded my older brother, "But you have such good grades. You've already secured a spot for postgraduate studies. You should keep studying, let us take care of the money!" I lay on the bed, crying silently. After three years of being tormented by illness, I couldn't keep going anymore. This time, I chose to let go.

When the company began choosing a vendor for staff lunches, I immediately ruled out my family's restaurant. A coworker stared at me. "Nora, that is a $150,000 contract. Your family runs a restaurant, and you're turning down money being handed to you? Are you out of your mind?" I smiled and didn't answer. In my last life, I took that contract. Then the new intern, Fiona Bell, accused me of secretly pocketing a commission. She even produced a quote from a three-star hotel for comparison. "Look, theirs is three dollars a portion. How do you justify charging eight?" Even my boyfriend of six years, Gavin Shaw, whom I had been seeing in secret, joined her in confronting me with the invoices. In the end the whole company froze me out. After I was diagnosed with severe depression, I died in a car accident one groggy-eyed morning. Three months after my death, several people were poisoned or killed after that hotel cleaned its dishes with pesticide. This time, I slid the order back to Fiona. My voice was calm. "You're the intern in facilities. You know the approval process better than I do. I'll stay out of it."

The Moretti family had always prided itself on "absolute fairness." Because my older brother and sister—both candidates for Don—would go at each other's throats the second Father tilted even a little more power toward one of them. So Father split everything evenly in two. Every territory, every servant, every last racket. One half for my brother. One half for my sister. When I was little, I once asked: "What about mine?" His face went dark. He snapped at me: "Isn't it enough that your brother and sister are already bleeding each other dry over power? Can you stop adding to the damn mess?" Years later, it was the annual family council. The ceremony where the heirs present themselves and get evaluated by Father. With every member of the family watching, Father placed identical tokens into my brother's and sister's hands. Two custom rings set with emeralds, each engraved with their names on the inner band. And me? I was shoved into a corner, standing awkwardly under the light. Father's gaze swept the room. It never once landed on me. Some family members noticed me. Their quiet snickers reached my brother's ears. He turned to look at me, his eyes dripping with disgust. My sister rolled her eyes and said with a cold smirk: "We agreed on absolute fairness, didn't we? So this token of power cannot be touched by any third party." Father glanced irritably at me, my face crumpled with hurt. "What. Do you have something to say?" I swallowed the pain, forced a small smile, and said: "No, Father. I'll take my leave." Once outside, I dialed Ella's number. She was my best friend from childhood—and now the most sought-after young director in all of Europe. "Ella, it's been a while. That thing you mentioned last time—about coming to work with you—is it still on the table?" "Of course, Lily. You're always welcome here." If the fairness that's been missing for twenty years isn't coming, then I don't need to stay in this family any longer.

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.

By the time Kenneth Ford finally showed up, I was already soaked through. He wasn't alone. There was a girl under his umbrella, and at well over six feet tall, Kenneth had enough height to shield her almost completely from the rain. He'd tilted the umbrella so far toward her that one side of his shirt was getting drenched, but he didn't seem to care. He just smiled and let her stay tucked safely beside him. Then he saw me, and the smile on his face disappeared. "Sorry, I'm late," he muttered. The girl beside him immediately turned to me. "Hannah, it's my fault. I've gotten so used to sharing Kenneth's umbrella that I asked him to walk me home. And honestly, being tucked up against him makes me feel so safe." "How many times have you done that it has become a habit?" I held back my question. Instead, I smiled, stepped under the umbrella behind them, and hurried to keep up. Rainwater dripped from my hair down the back of my neck, while Kenneth kept the umbrella tilted toward her the entire way. I had dinner with them, shared a drink, and spent the whole night listening to their laughter. After midnight, when Kenneth was finally fast asleep, I took the umbrella, opened it, snapped a picture, and sent it to Berta Neal. [Since you like it so much, stay tucked against him for the rest of your life.]

My husband, a regiment commander, once promised me he'd only accompany his depressed first love ninety-nine times. But when I finally reached that ninety-ninth tally, I saw the two of them locked in a tight embrace. After that, I stopped crying and begging him not to go to her. I only asked him for a safety locket—a small blessing for our soon-to-be-born child. At the mention of the baby, his expression softened. "When I get back," he said gently, "I'll go with you to the hospital for the checkup." I nodded obediently. I didn't tell him that ten days earlier, I had already filed for divorce. Now, our divorce was final.

In my previous life, I was born at the stroke of a cold, pitch-black midnight on New Year's Day, an omen the old town whispered about. They called me a Deathbringer's child, destined to guide the souls of the stillborn to rest. From the age of six, I carried small coffins alone to the graveyard by the church, burying them in silence. Each time, when I reached into the velvet shroud that wrapped the tiny casket, I would find a golden coin resting inside. My mother sold those coins for money, buying my brother a grand mansion, while leaving me behind in the crumbling family house to keep doing the work. No one expected the world of Haunts to descend. However, those coins turned out to be tokens of command, keys that bound the Haunts of the apocalypse to my will. With them, I became the Empress of the End, feared by all, ruling with every resource at my command.

Fairmont's golden boy, Hugo Fisher, posted a video on X late one night of himself playing with his dog. In the video, the dog ran toward the back of the room as soon as he heard footsteps. Hugo laughed and called out, "Your Mommy isn't going anywhere. What's the rush?" Fans immediately started trying to figure out who the "Mommy" he was talking about could be. Ten minutes later, rising starlet Lily Southall posted a photo of herself with the same dog. She was also wearing a ring on her finger. She captioned it. "Slow down next time." The post went viral in no time. Everyone knew Hugo had a secret lover, but no one expected it to be Lily. Social media quickly filled with hashtags. #GoldenBoyGoesPublic #DoggyGotAMommy #WeddingBellsSoon That same night, someone spotted Hugo kneeling outside a mansion with the dog beside him. He stayed there all night. Hugo said, "I swear you're the only woman I'll ever have. I don't know why this dog thinks some other woman is his mom, but if he really doesn't recognize you, I won't let him off the hook." The dog thought to himself, "That's so unfair. You're the one who can't win your wife back. Why are you blaming me?"

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.

On the day my grandfather, who was the wealthiest man in this state, died, the entire family got into a huge fight over the inheritance. My father could not stop the fight, so he requested my mother’s support. When I arrived, my grandfather was lying motionless on the bed. He was not even changed into his funeral suit. My aunts were pulling on each other’s hair as they fought over the ownership of a building. My uncles were fighting over the Rolls-Royce car keys. The entire family looked like hooligans as they fought. My mother was holding gold bars as she yelled at me, “What are you waiting for? Take that gold ring off your grandfather’s finger!” I rubbed my hands and was just about to take the ring off. I had just crouched down when I saw my grandfather’s pinky move.

I'm dying, and so is Sean Quinton. He still has hope, though. I don't. Why? Because once I die, my body will become the first to have passed due to a special infection. It'll be dissected and researched to help cure Sean. So, his daily task becomes urging me to die. Unfortunately for him, I'm unwilling to save him another time, so I die not because of the infection but because of carbon monoxide poisoning. It's enough to destroy the symptoms my body shows and ruin their plans to research my corpse.

My mother-in-law suffered a sudden brain hemorrhage and was rushed into the ICU. The hospital demanded a $200,000 surgery deposit immediately, so I rushed to the bank to raise my transfer limit. The trainee teller behind the counter took my ID card, swiped it through the reader, then stared at her screen for a long time. "Hello, ma'am. Our system has flagged this transaction as suspicious and potentially linked to elder fraud. Your account has been frozen." "That's impossible! That money is for emergency surgery! My mother is still waiting at the hospital!" The trainee gave me a perfectly rehearsed customer-service smile. "For the safety of your funds, we'll need the account holder to appear in person to unlock the account." I slammed my ID against the bulletproof glass and pointed at the name on it. "Open your eyes and read carefully! I am the account holder! Who else are you waiting for?" The trainee shrank back slightly, looking utterly wronged, then spoke into the microphone in a meek voice. "Ma'am, please control your behavior. The system's risk controls are determined by big data. There's nothing I can do. "If you continue shouting and disrupting financial order, I will have to call the police." Oh, I see. She wanted to play power games using company policy as a weapon? Fine. I was more than willing to play along.

My husband's first love ran off to a nightclub. She was drugged and assaulted there, and a year later returned with a child. Without a word, Bryson Tanner dragged me to the courthouse to file for divorce. "In this world, widows and orphans are easy prey. I can't just watch Christina get hurt. I'll acknowledge her child as mine." I held my own child in my arms and calmly filled out the paperwork. Just because I was reborn. In my previous life, I had refused to divorce at all costs. I'd also publicly exposed Christina Floyd's tangled affairs with men. She endured scorn and humiliation, and in a fit of anger, left her son behind to escape… only to die on that train. When Bryson heard of it, he showed no expression. Yet a month later, he watched coldly as I was drugged and assaulted, and accused me of cheating and giving birth to another man's child. It wasn't until my child and I were driven to death that I realized the depth of his hatred. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Bryson asked for a divorce.

Seven days before my wedding, my younger sister got dumped. Crying, she smashed my rose bouquet and tore apart my rose-printed wedding invitations, saying that seeing roses made her fall apart. That very night, Mom canceled my wedding. “Your sister can’t handle any more emotional triggers right now. Put the wedding off for a while.” Dad transferred the money I had saved for our honeymoon to my sister and let her go on a trip to relax. My older brother tried to persuade me, too. “You can get married anytime. Your sister can’t be left alone right now.” Ever since we were children, they had always asked me to wait. My eighteenth birthday party was canceled because my sister couldn’t get the gemstone necklace she wanted. The celebration party for my admission to Harvard University was canceled because my sister hadn’t done well on her exams. And now, what they wanted to cancel was my wedding. I looked at the petals scattered all over the floor and suddenly smiled. “Fine. Then cancel it.” My fiancé, Don Edward, sent me a message. “Are you going to wait for them again?” I stared at those words before slowly replying: “No.”