Plot Twists Short Stories & Male POV Face Slapping Novels

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.

On April Fools’ Day, I texted my wife and told her I was terminally ill. I told her that I had no more than a month left to live. I thought that if I made her cry, I would make it up to her with a villa. But as soon as I reached the front door, I heard her complaining inside. “Terminally ill? He’s already dying. Don’t tell me he’s going to waste money on treatment. “That money will be ours sooner or later. Why should he spend it on himself? “No. When he gets home, I’ll tell him I’m pregnant. “He loves me so much. He’ll definitely give up treatment for the baby and me.” Before I could process her words, I heard my best friend’s voice right after. “It’s no wonder you always say he’s up to no good. Every time you finish with him, you come to me so I can satisfy you. “I thought you were just greedy. It turns out he’s really that pathetic! “What do you think will happen if he finds out you’re carrying my baby? Do you think he’ll die even sooner?” Only then did I realize that my wife and my best friend had been having an affair for a long time. I laughed bitterly. Then, I turned around and called my assistant. “Don’t transfer the deed to the Bayhaven villa yet. Draft a divorce agreement instead.” She cheated on me and still thought she could take my money! She could keep dreaming.

For our company's annual party, my manager handed me a hundred-dollar bill. His assignment? Go out and buy the latest, top-of-the-line iPhone as the grand raffle prize. I stared at the cash, my brow furrowed. “An iPhone 17 costs nearly a thousand dollars. A hundred is hardly enough.” A smug smile tugged at his lips. “That’s your problem to figure out. When your superior hands down an order, you find a way to make it happen, not sit there questioning me.” So he was trying to make me pay out of my own pocket! When I flatly refused, he didn't hesitate to use my full-time promotion to threaten me. Looking at his arrogant face, I pretended to back down. “Fine. Leave it to me.” The second I turned around, I stuffed a brick into an empty phone box, sealed it up, and handed it right over.

I had been begging my wife for weeks, and she finally agreed to come to the movie theater with our son and me to catch the latest blockbuster. My plan was to wait until the credits rolled, then hit her with the big news: I’d just been promoted to general manager of the entire multiplex. Then, right in the middle of the movie, my phone buzzed with a wave of notifications from the work group chat. [Holy crap! Hall 3 is wild right now, 4K quality!] [Are people for real right now? Doing it in a movie theater like they’re glued together?] [Seriously though, ping janitorial ASAP. That row is gonna need a deep clean.] My mind went blank. Hall 3? That was the exact theater we were sitting in. Curiosity got the better of me, and I tapped on the video file. The second the screen lit up, my whole body froze. The couple in the video was sitting right in our row. It was my wife, sitting just past our son, locked together with the guy next to her. I spun my head toward her. Her cheeks were flushed, her breathing heavy. "What the hell are you doing?!" I snapped.

Mackenzie Lister, my germaphobe wife, refuses to let any man besides me touch her. She stays a full arm's length away even when posing for photos with investors. It stays that way until the day of my birthday, when Colin Sumner, her assistant, suddenly posts a photo on his social media. In the photo, Mackenzie lets Colin hold her around the waist from behind. "I finally got to meet the role model I grew up looking up to! I have to keep pushing forward and chase my dreams!" I leave a comment on the post. "You two are an item now?" Mackenzie calls me. "He has always looked up to me, that's all. Why do you always have to twist things around? You'd better not make a fool of yourself and delete that comment this instant!" Additionally, my colleagues also blame me for meddling too much in other people's business. Colin immediately posts an update. "I've learned my first lesson from my role model—don't waste your time arguing with petty people." I look at my social media feed, which is getting spammed with comments, and place a single phone call. The next day, every investment in Mackenzie's company is withdrawn.

The day I walk free, my wife is standing in the wind, waiting for me. There's no screaming, no hysterics. It's nothing like what I once imagined. Then our eyes meet. She's holding a black coat as she says, "Jude, you've lost weight." Before, I would have reached for her hand. I would have asked, in a raw voice, if it could just be the two of us from now on. But right now, I just turn away without a word. This time, we're only going to drift further apart. Lena Cartwright, I don't love you anymore.

To make life easier for my grandpa, I pay out of pocket to set up a well in the village. But since no one has ever bothered to maintain it, and because it has been raining heavily for several days now, mud and sediment end up getting into the well. The villagers assume that I cut corners when I had the well built, so they call me up to force me to pay for another well. When I refuse, they barricade Grandpa at his house and throw bricks into the courtyard in the middle of the night. I rush back to the village and see debris scattered everywhere. I say nothing. But Grandpa, an 80-year-old, gets so worked up that he shouts, "Where is your conscience? My grandson put in more than 80,000 dollars of his own money to build the well, and he didn't charge any of you for that!" Peggy Mitchell, the ringleader of the troublemakers, shouts right back at him, "Don't be ridiculous! He's the one who built the well, so now that there's a problem with it, he's responsible for it!" Henrietta Nelson, the village chief, smokes a cigarette and says matter-of-factly, "We're all from the same village, Fred. Just put up the money to handle this." After five seconds of silence, I declare, "In that case, I'll bring a crew over this afternoon to fill in the well. You guys can head into town to get as many pails as you can. You're going to need to start hauling water from the river several miles away again."

I am timid by nature but have this strange sleep disorder where I immediately fall asleep when scared. However, what nobody else knows is that after I fall asleep, a split personality will awaken and take over my body. That split personality is also prone to violence. When I was eight, a fierce dog scared me so much that I fell asleep on the spot. When I woke up again, the dog was whimpering in a corner, clearly terrified of me. When I was 17, a robber accosted me. When I opened my eyes next, he was clutching a police officer's legs as he begged to be taken away and thrown into jail. All these years, I have tried my best to remain calm, so no other accidents happen again. That is, until I enter university and am placed into the same dorm room as the campus hunk, Theodore Caldman. During the welcome party, he corners me in the equipment room. With a pair of scissors in hand and a malicious smile, he says, "You always dress so tackily, yet you still dared to hit on my girlfriend? I'm going to ruin that pretty face of yours! Let's see how you'll seduce others again!" My legs turn to jelly, and I stammer out, "I-I'm not the sort who likes to cause trouble, but if you scare me so much, when I fall asleep, things are going to get real ugly…" He punches me in response. "What's with the tough guy act?" With that, my eyes roll back as I fall asleep. Theodore barely gets a smug laugh out when I suddenly spring up from where I was prone on the floor. Even though my eyes are still shut, I seize him by the neck and lift him into the air with one hand. Ten minutes later, the security guard kicks open the door to the equipment room, only to see a beaten and bloodied Theodore, kneeling on the ground and singing nursery rhymes. Meanwhile, I am leaning against the wall off to one corner, snoring softly.

Joseph Zeigler, the heir of the richest man in the city, suddenly develops a rare acute illness, leaving the whole medical department completely stumped. In my past life, I pull three all-nighters buried in medical journals from around the world before finally landing on the safest conservative treatment plan. Derek Chapman, the newly hired doctor, dismisses my approach. He scans the lab sheet using an AI diagnostic app and insists that a simple minimally invasive procedure is all it takes to eradicate the problem. I publicly point out the AI app's misdiagnosis, driven by my duty as a doctor. Derek, unable to accept the humiliation, leaves the hospital in a huff, accidentally falls into a river, and drowns. Helen Walker, the head of the department, has resented me ever since then. She leads a cyberbullying crusade against me online. She breaks down crying in front of the cameras, saying, "If Dr. Lund hadn't bullied the newcomer out of sheer jealousy, he wouldn't have been distracted enough to fall into that river. Dr. Lund is supposed to be compassionate as a doctor, but all he has is just pure jealousy!" I eventually jump to my death from a building because of the relentless cyberbullying. I open my eyes again to find myself back on the day Derek holds up his phone, loudly bragging about the AI's diagnosis. I take a backseat of my own accord this time. "These youngsters nowadays are absolute medical prodigies. If the AI says it is safe to operate, I will let you take the lead surgeon position for this case."

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've spent seven years running security at the testing site at Millbrook High School. I've seen all kinds of cheating, from cheat sheets to hidden earpieces, and even invisible ink. That morning, Steven Lindell, the last student in line, walks in. He has a bookish look as he pushes his black-framed glasses up his nose. His admission slip, fingerprint scan, and facial ID all check out. I look him over for a moment, quietly take a few steps back, and press the button I haven't touched in seven years. In less than three minutes, the exam halts, and the testing site goes into lockdown.

As the only day student in my class, I had spent three years picking up breakfast for my classmates every morning without ever charging a single penny for the errand. That changed when a transfer student joined our class. "Oh, my God… Don't tell me you've all been paying him full price this whole time. You guys have been stuck on campus so long you probably don't know this, but the food vendors outside always give a discount if an entire class places an order. "I can't even imagine how much he's pocketed from the price difference over the past three years." When he noticed the shocked looks on everyone's faces, he smiled and added, "How about this? From now on, just let me know what you want for breakfast. My uncle runs a breakfast truck outside the school, and he knows everyone along the strip. "I'll pick it up for you at the discounted price. I'm not trying to make money. I just want to make some friends." When I heard that, I let out a quiet sigh of relief. What he didn't know was that I'd long since grown sick of waking up two hours early every morning just to buy everyone's breakfast, endure coming back reeking of food, and putting in all that effort only to end up completely unappreciated.

Immediately after picking up my new Porsche Panamera, I took a photo of the steering wheel and uploaded it to my Instagram. Less than two minutes later, the female manager from the department next to mine, Quinn Zote, began to bombard me with a slew of questions. "You're driving such a luxurious car? Can you even afford the upkeep?" "That car sits too low. Men are likely to get in accidents driving it, and if all that bouncing around ruins your prostate, how are you supposed to carry on the family line?" "Bring me the car key right this instant. It just so happens that I need to use a car tonight!" Completely dumbfounded, I was only able to retort with a "Is there something wrong with you?" before Quinn called me. She screamed angrily over the line, "You're just an insignificant little employee, so why should you drive a luxury car? After we marry, you have to transfer that car over to my name! "I'm warning you, if you ruin your body with all that bouncing around and can't get me pregnant, I'm going to divorce you, and you'll leave with nothing to your name! Now, I'm giving you ten minutes to drive that car over here to the office building. Otherwise, I'm going to deduct your attendance bonus for this month!" I could hardly contain my furious laughter at her outrageous behavior. After hanging up, I immediately sent a recording of the call to the "Executive Inspection" group chat my father set up. Along with it, I sent a message that read, "Is this woman really a member of the upper management at your branch company?"

The day I return home, my wife, Lauren Stewart, is supposed to pick me up at the airport. But at the last minute, she sends someone else instead. The man, Ethan Parker, stops me at the arrivals gate and looks me up and down with open contempt. "You're the guy who's been hanging around Lauren, right?" "The villa district on Fairview Avenue in Riverton," I say urgently. "Take me there. Now." That morning, our butler, Joshua Edwards, called to tell me that my grandfather, William Astor, was bedridden, so I caught the earliest flight home. But instead of taking me anywhere, Ethan blocks my path and glares at me like he's ready for a fight. "You homewrecker! You think you can steal another man's wife? I'll beat you to a pulp!" The first slap leaves me stunned. Then the punches start coming. Luckily, I know enough martial arts to defend myself. I strike back, sending several of them crashing to the ground. "What the hell is your problem? Were you seriously sent here by my wife to pick me up?"

On the day of our wedding ceremony, Nalani Smith shows up with her family of three to marry me. Her younger brother, Felix Smith, follows closely behind her, holding a child in his arms. I stub out my cigarette and ask apathetically, "Why don't I step aside and let you two have each other?" Tears immediately well up in her eyes, and she raises her hand to swear that there's absolutely nothing going on between them and that all those rumors are nothing but malicious slander from outsiders. I nod. When the officiant announces that it's time for the couple to exchange rings, Felix abruptly drops to his knees. Pointing his finger at her, his voice trembles. "But I'm the one you love!" Nalani neither confirms nor denies it. She merely stands there, tears streaming down her face. Noticing the anguish on her face, I fling her hand away and push her straight into his arms. "Go ahead. No one's stopping you from keeping it in the family," I say nonchalantly.

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.

Jeannie Gray kicks me to the ground. I get on my feet, dust off the shoeprint she left on my pants, and smile as I straighten her shoe, which crookedly dangles from her foot. At that moment, my phone buzzes with a message informing me that Jeannie's older brother has wired my five-million-dollar severance pay into my account. I get on a flight and flee overnight, posting a link on Facebook Marketplace with the caption, "Hiring emotional support companion for S-tier psychotic female CEO from Elmsdale. Includes onboarding training. Pays 200,000 a month." Not three minutes later, young men in college looking for a shortcut to success flood the comment section with biddings. Two years later, I'm sprawled over a cot in a massage parlor. The masseuse, Rory Jacobs, has just begun kneading the knots in my lower back when someone kicks the lounge door open. As the door rattles against its frame, Jeannie storms in and pulls me into a tight embrace. Her voice is hoarse and shaking, and I feel hot tears falling on my neck. "Please come back. Gray Corporation is yours, and so am I!"

I'm playing hide-and-seek with my little niece. I close my eyes, count to 20, and head up to the attic, only to find the door padlocked shut. I turn to leave, but then I hear rustling on the other side. I tiptoe closer and press my ear against the wooden door. I'm about to shout, "Found you!" when I catch the sound of my buddy Alec Redmond's breathless breathing. "Cassidy, you think anyone's going to come up here?" My girlfriend, Cassidy Brennan, laughs softly. "Don't worry. I promised Cora I'd buy her that Barbie she's been wanting. She locked the door, so no one's going to find us." I freeze outside the door. My blood runs cold. This morning, Cassidy and Alec tell me they have a surprise planned for me. Then the two of them drive off together. I clench my fists until my knuckles go white. So, this is the real surprise.

I had died for a year and was pushed to cross the River of Souls 99,999 times, but I could not do so as no one had given me a proper burial. The netherworld forced me to return to the mortal world for 48 hours to find someone to bury me, or my soul would vanish after 48 hours. They even started a livestream to make some income for themselves. On the first day of my return, my ex-girlfriend and the real heir of the family who hated me were about to get married. Netizens predicted that I would be malicious enough to crash the wedding for revenge, but all I did was sit in a small restaurant and order myself a delicious burger. While waiting for my food, the first sentence I said to the camera was, "I will vanish completely from this world after 48 hours."