Historias cortas de Familial Bond y novelas con Male POV ambientadas en Face Slapping

As Dad lies on his death bed, he rasps to me that his only wish is to watch me get married. I keep crying to the point that my sobs come out silent. My entire family turns to look at Whitney Pearson, who stands behind me. She lets out a small sigh before wiping my tears away for me gently. Then, she leads me out of the ward. But as soon as the door is closed behind us, Whitney's expression turns icy. "Joseph, we've been dating for seven years. You of all people should know very well that I hate getting coerced into doing something the most. "Love is all about going with the flow. We shouldn't let others determine how our relationship should progress." Then, she caresses my cheek reassuringly. "Let's not rush our marriage. We'll talk more about this once things settle down after my company goes public. What do you think? "Anyway, I still have a meeting to get to tonight. You should deal with your family as you see fit. I'll bring a gift for you when I come home later." Before I can say anything, Whitney spins on her heel and leaves with her secretary, Kaiden Xavier. The moment both of them disappear into the elevator, I witness Kaiden bending over slightly to brush Whitney's hair from her face for her. She makes no move to stop him at all. After drying my tears, I return to the ward and take Dad's hand with a smile. "Don't worry, Dad. I'll get married in three days. In fact, I'm still waiting for you to do my tie for me before the start of the ceremony."

On New Year's Eve, my cousin and I went to the supermarket to stock up for the holiday when a cold wave hit out of nowhere. The temperature plummeted dozens of degrees, and the world plunged into an ice-cold apocalypse. In the blink of an eye, people froze solid into ice sculptures. I scrambled to grab winter coats and whatever supplies I could, but my cousin just sat there playing video games. He even posted his pentakill on social media to brag about it. I went through hell to snag him a down jacket, and he still insisted he was not afraid of the cold. "I'm a real man. You think a little cold scares me?" He refused to eat the compressed biscuits. He even used our scarce bottled water to wash his limited-edition sneakers, then threw a fit demanding freshly pan-seared steak. "It's called having standards, look it up. Even if I die, I'm dying tough and with style!" I scoffed. Since he wanted to die tough, he could go right ahead and freeze into an ice sculpture. Ice sculptures were plenty tough.

My older sister, Noelle Brown, has an unhealthy obsession with me. When I was ten years old, Noelle almost got kidnapped by the kidnappers. I got into the kidnappers' van in her stead. Later on, I was returned to my family after they paid a ransom. But my face had already been slashed by the kidnappers, and my legs had been broken by them, too. Since then, Noelle has worked extremely hard to improve herself. That's how she successfully brings the company Dad has left behind to a new level of success. I become Noelle's most cherished person as well as the vulnerable spot that no one else is allowed to touch. Someone made fun of my ugly looks in the past. Noelle had stuffed his head into a sack filled with rats, where he literally got his face chewed off him alive. There was also someone who ran his mouth about me being a cripple behind my back. Noelle responded by crushing his legs with a road roller, resulting in his legs being reduced to paste. Noelle is the demoness who's feared by the entire city. But to think that such a fearsome woman dotes on me endlessly. She even dumps a huge amount of money into sending me overseas, where I undergo numerous plastic and orthopedic surgeries while finishing my college studies. Before returning to the country, I receive an engagement invitation from Noelle. She tells me that soon, I'll have a brother-in-law who will spoil me like she does. She even sends me a photo of her fiance, Faris Smith. But as soon as I arrive at the villa, Faris barges in with a group of brutes. He's mistaken me for Noelle's side piece, whom she keeps in another country, so he begins torturing me endlessly. By the time Noelle reaches the scene, Faris points at me while shouting at her. "Don't tell me I can't even compare to that pretty boy!" Noelle's eyes go bloodshot at the sight. "What makes you think you're even worthy of being compared to him?"

On the seventh day after my dad's passing, I head over to the funeral home to wrap up the aftermath of the funeral as well as pack up my dad's personal effects. That's when an employee stops me and demands that I cough up an additional 100 thousand dollars for the storage and preservation of my dad's corpse. I'm stunned, to say the least. Dad has already gotten cremated and buried a long time ago. His ashes are already deposited inside the graveyard, as we speak. So, how is his body getting stored and preserved throughout the week? I use facts and logic to argue with the employee. But he has the gall to threaten me with an impatient scowl on his face. "Stop yapping already! The system shows that your father's body is still inside the cold storage! It's been seven days, so you must pay 100 thousand dollars, no matter what! If you refuse to settle the payment, you can forget about taking your father's personal effects with you! "When the time comes, you have to cough up the additional charges as well! If not, I shall see you at court!" As I stare at the hostile employee, I can feel rage simmering in my blood. Still, I call every family member and relative I have to borrow 100 thousand dollars from them just so I can make the payment. With the receipt in hand, I walk into the police station right away. "Officer, my dad was cremated and buried seven days ago. But the funeral home decided to charge me 100 thousand dollars' worth of storage and preservation fees for no reason! I suspect that they didn't send my father off the proper way!" When the police show up at the funeral home, the same employee who threatened me looks alarmed. He quickly gets his manager, Mr. Lawson, to deal with the situation. Impatience is etched all over Mr. Lawson's face as he snaps at me, "Your father has already gone through the cremation process seven days ago. The procedure and all the receipts are intact. Don't you dare kick up a fuss irrationally now!" I let out a cold chuckle in return before showing Mr. Lawson the receipt. "I'm being irrational, you say? I've just paid for the storage fees of my father's corpse, and here's the receipt to prove the validity of the transaction! You must return my father to me today!" I thought the funeral home insisted on charging me earlier. Now, they'd better fulfill their side of the bargain by returning my dad's corpse to me without a single hair out of place!

At the high-speed train station security checkpoint, a security officer stops me. "What's inside the case?" he asks. "A living donor heart. It's scheduled for transplant in two hours," I reply and hand over the emergency transit pass. After verifying the documents, the officer is about to let me pass when a hand suddenly shoots out from behind and grabs the case. "He can't go! That case contains illegal stuff!" I turn around. To my shock, it's my brother-in-law, Edward Austin. Pointing at me, he shouts, "Officer, I'd like to report him! He's my brother-in-law. There isn't anything medical-related in that case. It's drugs he bought on the black market. He's planning to use his status as a doctor to smuggle them out and sell them!" Armed police officers immediately surround me with their weapons lowered into ready positions. My eyes redden with panic. "Have you lost your mind, Edward? There's a donor heart in here! The recipient only has two hours left to live!" He rolls his eyes and sneers. "Oh, spare me the act. My sister says you've been acting suspiciously lately. You're obviously up to something. If you've got nothing to hide, why don't you open it right here in front of everyone?" Everyone within the vicinity falls silent. The leading police officer steps forward with a stern expression. "Please cooperate with the inspection. Open the case immediately." I glance at the countdown timer on my watch. My back becomes drenched with cold sweat. If the heart is contaminated, then Michael Ellis—the national hero whose life depends on this transplant—will not survive this.

At my daughter’s graduation party, the laptop I gave her turned out to be the same model as the one my ex-wife's boyfriend gave her. She slammed the computer I bought violently onto the ground, smashing it to pieces. "You obviously knew Chad was going to give me this, yet you bought the same one. You just want to make Chad look bad!" My daughter screamed hysterically at me, while my ex-wife flashed a malicious smile. Half a month later, my daughter secretly drugged me during dinner. When I woke up, I found myself smuggled across the border, trapped inside a cold iron cage. On stage, the auctioneer announced, "Today, we're auctioning off every single organ from this man's body. Highest bidder wins!" Meanwhile, my daughter sat down below the stage, her gaze filled with venomous hatred. "Connor, since you love buying identical things just to steal everyone else's spotlight, today, we'll let you steal the spotlight to your heart's content! "Let's see which of your organs you actually have the power to save on your poor worker's salary!" As my heart turned to stone, I silently awakened the system that I had neglected for many years. [Ding—Host has successfully activated the Damage Transfer System.]

As the son of Harbor City's casino magnate, I willingly handed control of the World Cup book to my stepsister, Sophie Bell. It was only because, in my last life, Sophie, who had never watched soccer seriously, suddenly turned into the family's lucky charm and called sixteen World Cup matches in a row. Every single night I stayed up breaking down each team's tactics and studying the players' habits and tricks. Yet Sophie could always predict the exact score, a step ahead, saying out loud the very answer in my mind. "Admit it, Adrian. I'm just stronger than you! Everyone, listen to me and go all in!" After that, the whole internet worshiped her as a goddess and praised her as a natural-born betting queen. Everyone mocked me as nothing but a fraud who'd never deserved his name. I was driven out of the family, and in a daze, someone shoved me off a high-rise. Only in that moment did I finally learn the truth: my stepsister could eavesdrop on my thoughts in real time. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the night the World Cup began. This time, I didn't watch the matches. Instead, I looped through my head: "Darling, hold my hands. Nothing beats a jet 2 holiday, right now you can..."

My father is one of the wealthiest men in the country, a name everyone knows but almost never sees. My mother is the devoted wife standing behind him, the one who actually raises me. She always tells me my father looks down on us for being country people, that he calls us ungrateful dogs who can never be won over no matter how well they're fed. He sends me only 200 dollars a month for me to live on. I hate him for it. Then one day he shows up at my university without warning. He points at the tray in front of me and frowns. "I send you 50,000 dollars a month, and this is what you eat?"

The day my wealthy biological parents finally took me home, my eight godmothers stood at the gate with tears in their eyes as they watched me leave. I had barely been back for two days when everything changed. It was all because I scored one hundred points higher than the fake heir on our final exam mock test. My own parents took me to an underground black market hospital. They were going to cut out my brain and transplant it into the fake heir. "You've already taken Braxton's place as the center of the family," my mother said coldly. "Giving him your brilliant brain is the least you can do to make it up to him." "Don't worry," my father added with a smile. "We'll find you an ordinary brain afterward. We'll take care of you for the rest of your life." Braxton grinned as he leaned close. "Let me tell you a little secret. I bribed the surgeon. The brain they're putting in your head belongs to an idiot. "Your life is over." I struggled with everything I had, refusing to give up. Then they dragged me out of the car. The moment I looked up at the building, I almost laughed. Was this not the hospital owned by my eight godmothers? When I left home, my eldest godmother — the CEO — had sent me off with red-rimmed eyes. She vowed back then, "If anyone in the Long family dares lay a finger on you, I'll bankrupt them before they know what hit them." My second godmother, a renowned surgeon, had said nothing at all. She had simply continued wiping down her scalpel. It seemed like Braxton and the Long family had walked straight into a trap they would never escape from.

All because I talked to a girl from school, my parents decided I was too young to date and sent me to a behavioral correction camp over winter break. I spent 14 days there before they came for me. When Mom reached for my backpack, I flinched and dropped to my knees. "Mom, I'm sorry. I'll carry my own things. Please don't touch me. You're the opposite sex." Her expression soured. "I told you to watch out for girls out there, not treat your own mother like one of them." I kept my head down and said nothing, because responding to the opposite sex was also a violation. On the drive home, Dad noticed me sitting rigid and perfectly still. He laughed, pleased. "Look at him. He's so well-behaved now." "It worked even better than I expected. We'll have our family dinner tonight and send him back in the morning. They need to straighten him out for good." I said nothing. I just turned and looked out the window. There would be no tomorrow. Tonight was my farewell gift to them.

Ever since I was little, my dad taught me that no matter what happened, I should put my studies and exams as my top priority. When I was eight, I accidentally broke my leg during gym class, but my dad insisted that I finish that day’s class before taking me to get it treated. When the doctor said I was brought in too late and would have to be hospitalized, my dad looked troubled. “Third grade is a crucial transition period in elementary school. My child absolutely cannot waste any time right now!” So, I went to school in a wheelchair during the day and returned to my hospital room at night to finish my homework. When I was discharged, I was left with a lasting condition. Ever since then, I walked with a slight limp. When I was eleven, I ran a high fever of 102 degrees and started babbling incoherently. But my dad took forever to arrive. The teacher was so anxious that she took me to the hospital first, only to be berated by my dad when he finally showed up. “The transition from elementary to middle school is a critical moment for a child’s future. If my son, Teleus Costa, misses these three classes, just think how far behind the other kids he’ll fall!” Even though I had not fully recovered, my dad sent me back to school the very next day. From then on, I suffered from severe myocarditis. At seventeen, I developed a serious heart condition that put me at risk of sudden death at any moment. But my dad insisted I wait until after the SATs to seek treatment. “The SATs are the pivotal moment that determines your future. Missing even one class at such a time is tantamount to suicide!” One night during evening study hall, my heart seized up again, and I stumbled down the stairs. Lying in a pool of blood, I mustered my last ounce of strength to press the emergency contact button on my smartwatch to call for help. But on the other end, I heard my father’s voice. “There’s still one more session of evening study hall left. Can’t you just hang in there until it’s over?” ‘Dad, I’m sorry, but I don’t think I could make it,’ I thought.

I'm the unluckiest real heir to the Hoffman family. I have been reborn 99 times now, and each time, it's on the exact same day—the day I'm brought home for the first time and immediately sent away by a single question from the fake heir, Dexter Hoffman. "Whom do you love more, Dante? Mom or Dad?" "If Desiree and I both fall into the water at the same time, who will you save first, Dante?" No matter what my answer is, my whole family will think it's wrong and judge me as a horrible, malicious person. And then, I will die under mysterious circumstances. When I'm reborn for the 100th time, I decide to give up on giving any real answers and just slack off. Dexter stands next to Mom and Dad and asks me the same question again with a smile on his face. However, I remain standing in place and say nothing in response. Dexter flies into a rage. "Are you deaf or mute, Dante Hoffman? Why aren't you saying anything?" I happily bring out my handy notebook and write, "Are you welcoming me home, Dexter? I'm sorry, but I'm deaf and mute, and I can't hear your beautiful voice. "I'm so happy and touched. You're the first person who doesn't despise me." I even draw a crying face at the end. Dexter is shocked. Even Mom, Dad, and my elder sister, Desiree Hoffman, are utterly confused.

After the morning rush at the supermarket dies down, I tear off a piece of bread to eat. My daughter, who's just getting out of bed at nearly noon, immediately explodes at me. "Dad, can you stop being so greedy? The moment I'm not around, you help yourself to the expensive bread. Honestly, the worst thieves are the ones under your own roof." I try to explain that I've been up since 5:00 am and haven't even had breakfast yet, but she doesn't care. She barks, "Let's get one thing straight. This is my store. I was kind enough to bring you here from the countryside so you could enjoy your retirement. Is this how you repay me?" My son-in-law jumps in unhappily. "If you're hungry, can't you just wait a little longer? There are leftovers from yesterday at home. Couldn't you go back and eat those instead?" His mother steps in with a smile. "Alright, that's enough. I'm sure he isn't the type to take advantage of people. If he ate the bread, he'll pay for it, right? It's five dollars. You can Venmo me." I laugh out of exasperation. This store is opened with my money. Every shelf is stocked with merchandise I carry in myself. I get up before dawn and work until late at night without getting paid a single cent. And now, I need to pay for a piece of bread? If this is how things are going to be, I don't want this kind of daughter anymore. I gather all my savings account books and bank cards, then change the beneficiary's name in my will to my nephew's.

After I was taken into the mountains, I became the whole town's slave. If one field remained unharvested or one family's firewood went uncut, they beat my face bloody. They avoided my arms and legs only because they expected twice as much work from me the next day. On New Year's Eve, I finally decided I couldn't survive another day and went to the river to end my life, only to hear two people whispering behind the trees. "Watch yourself. He is still the Hawthornes' biological son. They sent him to Red Willow Hollow to learn discipline, not for you to use however you want." "Biological son? His parents haven't asked about him in years. They already have another boy, the polished young heir who visited last time. The difference between them is night and day. "If anything happens, we'll blame him. Mrs. Hawthorne said that a boy without manners doesn't deserve to be her son. He may as well die out here." I stood frozen above the river, forgetting even why I had come. My mother always boasted that her family came from old money. She said a gentleman's most important quality was proper conduct. So why, after seeing my body, did she abandon every rule of dignity she had ever demanded from me?

Before the national graduate entrance exam, my fiancée, Tara Mowry, had been holding on to both our exam permits and ID cards. She handed in only her own. When it was my turn, she showed up empty-handed, her tone as casual as if this were the most natural thing in the world. "I forgot to bring your permit and ID. Just skip this last section and let Cyrus have the spot instead." I stood frozen, stunned that Tara would scheme against me, all for Cyrus Tipton's sake. Cyrus was the Tipton family's fake heir. Ever since I'd been brought back into the family, my grades had outshone his at every turn. I stared at the woman I'd been bound to by an arranged family marriage, and something about the whole situation struck me as almost funny. I turned and walked away. Behind me, Tara's voice rose, sharp with panic. "You've already taken his place as the Tipton heir. Are you really going to fight him for a graduate school spot too?" "If you throw a tantrum and skip the exam now, what will people think of Cyrus? Do you want the whole school to think he forced you into it?" I didn't even turn around. A tantrum? She had no idea. Half a month earlier, I'd already been accepted into the Distinguished Scholars PhD Program at the National Institute of Advanced Sciences. Showing up for the exam today had only ever been a courtesy, something I did for the sake of the arranged marriage between our families. Since she didn't want it, that courtesy was officially over.

After I set up the camera, I realized the clients booked for a family portrait were the parents and older brother I'd run from five years earlier. The moment our eyes met, my mother's smile froze. Her eyes went red, and she asked uncertainly, "Remy... is that you?" "You're alive?" With one finger resting on the shutter, I reminded them, "Keep smiling. Look at the camera." My father shot to his feet. "Are you really this spiteful? Five years of hiding from us. What grievance in a family takes five years to get over?" I looked at the dog beside my brother, also named Remy, and couldn't understand what he was angry about. They were the ones who'd spent my whole childhood telling me I existed for one reason: to be marrow for my brother. Even the dog got to be in the family portrait I wasn't allowed in as a child. I gave up on that family a long time ago.

On the day I graduated as the top student in the entire state, my parents threw a lavish celebration at a local banquet hall, inviting more than a hundred relatives and family friends. However, the seat of honor at the head table did not belong to me. It belonged to my older brother, Ethan Smith. A huge banner stretched across the room. [Congratulations to Ethan, Our Amazing Son, for Raising the State's Top Student!] Balancing a plate of food in my hands, I slipped into a seat by myself in the corner. Meanwhile, everyone crowded around Ethan. They clinked glasses with him, posed for photos with him, and praised him for raising such an outstanding younger brother. Before the party ended, our relatives handed their graduation cards and gifts to him instead of me. Some of the cards even contained cash, a reward for being such a 'devoted big brother'. Ethan accepted every last one with an easygoing smile. "I just kept him focused on his studies," he said modestly. Just like that, every sacrifice I had made—waking up at four every morning, working through countless practice exams, and studying through one sleepless night after another—became part of his achievement instead of mine. Later, I was awarded a $10,000 academic scholarship. My parents told me to transfer every last cent into Ethan's bank account. "Your brother's leaving for Newvale City to study arts administration," my mother said. "Tuition fees and living expenses aren't cheap. "Besides, you're majoring in education. You're going to be a teacher. You won't need nearly as much money." "I have college tuition to pay too," I protested. My mother slammed her fork onto the table. "Do you have any idea how much we've spent raising you for the past eighteen years? And now you can't even help your brother with this little bit of money?" That night, I packed my suitcase for move-in day. As I was getting ready to leave, my father pulled my college acceptance letter from the drawer, glanced at it, and spoke as if my future had already been decided. "After you graduate, come back and get a teaching job at a public school. Stay close to your brother. He'll need a family member nearby to look after him." It was only then that I finally understood. For the last eighteen years, they had never seen me as their son. I had only ever been the stepping stone they carefully laid beneath Ethan's feet. Once the road had been paved… Who would ever remember that the stone beneath it had once had its own dreams and desires?

I was the most famous lawyer in the city, with a constant stream of clients. However, my career took a hit after I adopted my daughter — all because of her toxic, rebellious nature. When I took a child abuse case, she told the victim’s family, “My father loves taking cases with little girls, because he loves little girls.” When I hosted a seminar online, she barged into the camera and said, “Don’t believe my father! He uses his work to harass victims.” Today, I joined a speech competition on behalf of my law firm. The audience was filled with VIPs. I told her again and again not to act up. She promised, then turned to wail at the national panel of judges. “My father said he’ll send me back to the orphanage because I won’t let him molest me. Are you sure you want him to represent you?” I looked up at her triumphant, vicious gaze and stayed silent. This time, however, she would soon regret it.

Jodie Stafford, the wealthiest heiress in Jensford, suffers a horrific car crash that leaves her paralyzed from the waist down, jeopardizing her claim to Stafford Corp. When the news reaches home, my adopted brother, Liam Gordon, drops to his knees in the living room and begs me to take his place in the arranged marriage. Holding my glass of water, I sneer as I take a step back. "Back then, you looked down on me—the real heir you brought back from the countryside—saying I was too uncultured to be presentable, so you forced the marriage alliance with the Stafford family on Liam instead. "Now that Ms. Stafford is paralyzed and a liability, you want me to take his place? Not a chance in hell!" As soon as I say that, my girlfriend, Vivian Collins, enters the room. She rushes to shield Liam and throws me a look of pure disgust. "Don't forget your place, Hank. That marriage alliance was yours to begin with. This is just setting things right. "We're done. I'm getting engaged to Liam tomorrow. Once the press gets wind of it, you'll be the only Gordon left to marry Ms. Stafford." I stare at the woman I grew up with, stunned by the sheer absurdity of it all. "The Staffords asked for the publicly recognized heir. I haven't even been legally registered as part of the family. You think they're stupid enough to accept a nobody?" Just then, my biological parents come down the stairs with cold expressions and toss a stack of legal documents in front of me. "As of tomorrow, your status is official. Liam has a bright future ahead of him. He's not wasting it tied to a cripple. Do your duty as a Gordon, marry Ms. Stafford, and enjoy life as their son-in-law." A harsh laugh escapes me as the last bit of warmth inside me dies. "Fine. I'll do it. Just don't come begging for me to come back later!"

My sister, Ruby O'Brien—the family's formidable CEO—had just landed herself a top-tier celebrity boyfriend. Now the two of them were filming a reality show right in her house. All I wanted was to go home and collapse on the couch. Instead, I wound up as his living control group. While he worked out, I lay there. While he read books, I lay there. While he cooked gourmet meals, I still lay there. The internet wanted my head on a platter. [Poor Josh, stuck with a useless future brother-in-law!] [Someone drag that lazy bum off the screen. We just want to watch Josh and his girl fall in love!] [I heard he didn't even sit for the SATs. Total dropout, rotting away at home.] [That's our Josh, though—a certified genius who just got accepted into Layne University's graduate program!] I rolled over lazily, completely baffled. Getting into Layne's graduate program was supposed to be impressive? And I was the lazy dropout? Were they talking about the guy who'd just won an international physics prize?