Plot Twists Short Stories & Male POV Face Slapping Novels

When the kiss cam swept across the stands at the baseball stadium Warren Doyle, a married investor in the league, had his arms around his PR director and was kissing her. The two of them went up on the jumbotron, and the crowd erupted in hoots and cheers. Warren stormed into the camera bay and demanded I hand over my camera. I told him the camera pointed wherever the control room told it to. He stared at me for a few seconds, then suddenly let go and let me leave. I thought that was the end of it. The next day, audio from the crew channel shot to the top of the news feeds, with nothing left in it but two ambiguous lines from me. "Camera locked on row seven. Keep rolling. Don't cut." Overnight I became the shameless camera operator who'd filmed them on purpose. I was suspended from my job, my father's food cart was trashed, and Warren sued me for a million dollars. But he didn't know that the recording he was using to convict me could only ever convict him.

An overpass in Winfeld that's still under construction ends up collapsing, leading to the deaths of many. Family members of the victims are up in arms, demanding that the person in charge pay the price for the incident. As the quality assurance inspector, I'm brought to court. However, I am just an intern. The real perpetrators are out clinking glasses, celebrating a clean getaway and the fact that they have a new scapegoat. Out of nowhere, the court introduces a new trial system that involves the extraction of memories directly from one's mind. In the middle of this major incident, a terrifying truth emerges. Everything goes all the way back to my university days…

I had already bought the house we were supposed to build our future in, and over the years, I had carefully set aside a substantial wedding fund. I could not wait to spend the rest of my life with my girlfriend, Jeannie Cooperd. Jeannie had always seemed delicate and timid. Even a simple remark would leave her eyes red with tears. For two years, I spoiled her shamelessly, giving in to her every whim. Every plan I made, every dollar I saved, and every dream I held revolved around our wedding and the life we would share together. Then, I received the kidney compatibility report. The moment I saw the results, my heart turned icy. The woman who normally shrank from pain was now gripping my shoulders with surprising strength, determined to push me toward the operating room. "You're healthy! What's the big deal about living with one kidney?" she cried. "Elliot is dying!" Elliot. The name alone was enough. He was the first love she had never truly let go of, the one she had kept hidden in the deepest corner of her heart. Just yesterday, he was diagnosed with complete kidney failure. To pay for his treatment and cover the debts he had accumulated, Jeannie secretly canceled our wedding, drained every cent from the wedding fund and savings we had built together, and poured it all into Elliot's medical bills and endless financial problems. That was not enough. With sweet words and carefully crafted lies, she coaxed me into coming to the hospital and persuaded me to undergo compatibility testing.

I'm watching TV with my family at my parents' house after having our Thanksgiving dinner when I get a call from a delivery rider. "Sir, the brand of men's disposable underwear in size M you ordered is out of stock. Would it be okay if I replaced it with one of the same size from another brand?" I'm stunned. I haven't ordered anything from the store, and all my underwear is right where it should be in my wardrobe. More importantly, the delivery is supposed to go to the apartment my girlfriend, Leah Suthers, and I rent downtown. But I returned to my parents' house two days ago, and Leah flew to Brockdale on a business trip yesterday. There shouldn't be a soul in our apartment right now. I'm just about to tell the rider he's got the wrong address when a message from Leah pops up on my phone. It's a selfie with the caption, "Just finished dinner with a client and got back to the hotel. It's so unbearably hot here in Brockdale. I miss you, honey." In the photo, she's wearing a white blouse and leaning against a white hotel wall. I stare at the picture for a couple of seconds before replying to the rider, "Sure. Just leave it at the door. Thanks." After hanging up, I grab my car keys, tell my mom that something urgent has come up at work, then drive straight back to our apartment downtown in the middle of the night.

I'm the long-lost biological son of one of the richest families in the country. The moment I step out of the train station, I spot the Ashfords waiting for me, holding a sign with my name on it. But before I can say anything, the family's adopted son, Josh Ashford, takes several frightened steps back. "Asher? Is that really you?" I stare at him, confused. I've only just arrived here, and I've never met him before. But Josh is already shaking. "Mom, Dad, it's him! He's back… He's the guy who bullied me in high school! He locked me in the equipment room, put dead rats in my backpack, and made my life so miserable I almost dropped out!" Graham Ashford's face darkens, and he looks at me with disgust. Evelyn Bennett, my biological mother, pulls Josh behind her and glares at me. "Asher, I can't believe you would do something so awful! What kind of son have we brought into this family? Apologize to Josh right now!" The reporters waiting nearby rush toward us, cameras flashing nonstop. I stand there, completely stunned. I have no idea what he's talking about. I dropped out before I even finished middle school. How can I have bullied someone in high school when I never even got in one?

My roommate, Keith Kavanaugh, calls himself the "Holy Son of Frost". On the very first day we meet, he insists that the air conditioner in our dorm room must stay on until October, and the temperature can never go above 50°F. He claims, "A mystic says I'm the Holy Son of Frost, so I have a rare physique. I can only live in cool environments of 50°F at most." He even starts live-streaming, and his "special condition" instantly attracts a huge following. Meanwhile, I'm sitting right in front of the AC vent, so I'm shivering all over from the cold. I quickly turn the temperature up, but he immediately turns it back down and even locks the remote in his cabinet. "We're all educated college students here. Why are you so selfish?" he questions. Faced with his unreasonable accusation, I hold back my anger and try to reason with him. "We're in the north region. The weather here is cool enough in September. There's no need to set the AC this low. But if you insist, I can switch spots with you…" Keith cuts me off impatiently, "Are you crazy? Who sleeps right in front of the AC vent? What if I get sick from it? No one else has a problem. Why are you the only one making a fuss? Let me warn you—I'll melt from the heat. If you make me uncomfortable during my stay, I'll have you kicked out!" I realize there's no reasoning with him, so I plan to contact the dorm counselor to switch rooms. But Keith beats me to it! He goes to her first, records a video, and even posts it online. He accuses me, a local student, of being selfish and bullying him, someone who is from out of town. Just then, a new post suddenly appears on the campus forum. The poster writes, "My roommates are too wasteful. One guy washes his hair every day, and he even uses running water. He even takes a shower after every training session! Meanwhile, I can wash my whole body with just one damp towel. "And the worst part of this is that they want to kick me out after I made an itemized bill to split expenses. These cheapskates are always taking advantage of me. I'm looking for a high-quality dorm to take me in." My eyes light up instantly. He's the one!

Ten years ago, my ex-wife, Hailey Anderson, secretly signed an organ donation agreement without my knowledge. She donated the heart of our son, Jayden Smith, to her lover, Seth Parker’s dying son, Charlie Parker. When I arrived at the hospital, Jayden’s body was already in the cold morgue. Hailey was waiting outside another ward. She teared up in joy when Charlie regained his heartbeat. On the day of Jayden’s burial, I signed the divorce agreement. Then, I changed my name and left the city. After ten years of excruciatingly hard work, I specialized in cardiovascular surgery. Other than inventing the first fully implantable artificial heart, I also became the top surgeon globally. Many wealthy people begged me to save their lives. One day, my assistant, Finn Reid, passed me the latest emergency name list for a heart transplant. The first patient in need of a heart was Charlie. Charlie was in a critical condition due to an acute rejection of Jayden’s stolen heart. I was the only doctor who was able to carry out that surgery. Without expression, I picked up my red pen and slashed a big cross on his application form. “I’m not operating on this patient.”

After a campaign for the pack, I was gravely wounded, and rogues ambushed me on the way home. Dozens of rogues surrounded me, slashing wound after wound across my body. Meanwhile, my mate, the captain of the pack guard, had dropped everything to go to her first love, who was about to drink wolfsbane. In my past life, I sent her a mind-link, begging her to bring the guards and save me. She abandoned her first love, and I survived because of it. But by the time Vivian reached Gavin Cross's home, her first love had already drunk the wolfsbane and stopped breathing. Yet Vivian never blamed me, and we went on living happily together. Three years later, on my way back from my second campaign, rogues cornered me again. The one leading them was my own mate. "You lied to me that day, didn't you? You're an Alpha. There's no way you couldn't beat a band of rogues. But you were so jealous of Gavin that you forced me to your side, and I let him swallow wolfsbane and die in agony." "Today I want to see for myself whether one Alpha can really beat this many rogues." I fought for my life, but their claws were coated with wolfsbane, and in the end I died under them. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day the rogues first attacked me. This time, I decided to step aside and let her go save her first love.

The factory had just finished expanding when my wife insisted on bringing her older brother in as our driver. The very next day, my brother-in-law sold my $45,000 business car to a used car dealer. Not only that, he had the nerve to lecture me. "You're just a small business owner," he said. "Driving a car this expensive is a waste. You might as well sell it and buy gold for my sister. At least that'll appreciate in value." I swallowed my anger and tried to explain. "I've never treated her poorly. I've never missed a holiday gift. Compared to what others spend, driving this car is already modest." He flew into a rage instantly. "You still dare talk back? My sister gets treated like a maid by your mother every day, and you pretend not to see it. "Driving a luxury car, pretending to be rich, probably thinking about keeping a mistress. As long as I'm around, don't even think about it. "In my family, women handle the money. You'd better transfer all your assets to my sister." I turned to leave, but he punched me straight in the eye. When my wife rushed over, she did not defend me. Instead, she scolded me for looking down on her family. While I was being treated for my eye injury, she even allowed her brother to sell all the gold and expensive watches in our house. They used the money to buy a car for his son and even sold the house just to show off their wealth. Meanwhile, she went online and complained about how miserable her married life had been. I was so furious I was speechless. In the end, I called the police. Since they were so eager to get their hands on my money, I decided they would not get a single cent.

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."

The day they ripped out my spiritual root, the snow came down hard. I lay on the freezing altar as my fiancee tore the Supreme Bone from my chest and stitched it into the chest of the man she loved. She smiled and said it was for the good of the school. I was left powerless and thrown into the Abyss of a Thousand Bones to die. However, they had no idea that a mysterious book with no words was hidden inside me. Only the deepest hatred and the agony of being on the brink of death could awaken it.

It's my 12th year working in construction, and I have over 600 workers working for me. Every day, we head to Peter Muhl's cafeteria on-site for lunch. One day, one of my employees asks for an extra ladle of soup. Peter's wife, Veronica Grant, slams the ladle down. "You construction workers sure have big appetites, huh? I charge you 18 bucks for a meal, and now you want all of my soup too?" All my construction workers in the cafeteria stop eating. Peter steps out of the kitchen, a cigarette dangling from his lips. "There are construction projects all over town these days, Mr. Walker. We've got more than enough customers now. "Your people are always coming in here caked in mud and getting the floors filthy. And you never settle the bill until the end of the month." I stare at Peter, and memories of three years ago come flooding back. Back then, the site was still in its early stages. He could barely sell ten meals a day. I'm the one who vouches for him so he can keep his cafeteria running. I even ask all my workers to order their lunch from him. These days, he sells over 1,000 boxed lunches a day, yet he looks down on my construction workers who keep his business running. I push my untouched lunch aside. "Fine. We'll settle the entire bill today." Veronica scoffs. "You think that's going to scare me? This site is huge. Without us, your men are going to go hungry every day." I pull out my phone and make an announcement in the project managers' group chat. "Starting tomorrow morning, I want all six project crews to stop ordering from Peter's cafeteria. All meal allowances will be redirected to the No. 2 residential complex."

My fated Alpha mate wanted to indulge her lover, Victor. She planned to let him be Lead Mate for a while. So she pretended our bond was gone. She wouldn't even acknowledge me as her mate. Walking past the study, I heard Victor's smug voice. "My love, if I'm acting Lead Mate, can we mate every night? But... won't Leo get suspicious? You've been mates for five years, after all." "What's he going to do? He can't leave the pack. And he would never leave me." Elara's sneer was pure Alpha arrogance. "Leo? That fool. I told him I lost our connection, and he actually believed our bond was broken. Even if he found out the truth, he'd just quietly hand over his title and go back to being my Head Warrior. You're my only mate, darling." I stopped. I didn't storm in. A sharp pain lanced through my chest as she weakened our bond. My face was a mask. I turned and walked away. Let them think their little plan is perfect. They'll soon find out what kind of surprise this "fool" has in store for them.

As I was watching a movie in the cinema, a rude child kept kicking the back of my seat. He even took off his shoe and extended his foot next to my face. I turned around and chastised him to take his seat, but he stabbed me in my neck with a sharp needle. Feeling the pain, I reached out and wiped the blood from my neck. His mother chuckled. “It’s fine, he’s just fooling around with my sewing needle. It’s just a harmless jab. It’s not like it has poison on it. Be a good sport about it.” I threw the popcorn bucket onto the floor and aimed my phone’s flashlight at the rude child. I roared, “The child’s holding a discarded needle that was used on an AIDS patient in the hospital! There’s an AIDs patient’s blood on 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!"

During my vacation, I'm in the middle of a riverside stroll with my wife, Wendy Summer, when I suddenly hear someone screaming. "Please! Save my drowning son!" Before I can regain my senses, Wendy, who's pregnant, quickly pushes the crowd apart and rushes toward the center of the conflict. "I'm a doctor, so I can help save the patient. I'll perform CPR on him right away." As Wendy speaks, she moves to lean over the patient. But that's when I grip her by the wrist tightly. "You're not allowed to save him. If you dare administer CPR to him, we'll get a divorce." Wendy stares at me in shock. "Have you gone nuts? Healing the sick and treating the injured is a doctor's duty! You're a doctor as well, Rowan! How could you say such things?" The onlookers begin admonishing me. "If you don't heal the sick and treat the wounded, then what sort of doctor are you? You're just an unethical bastard!" "I can't believe doctors like you still exist! You have no right to remain as a doctor! I'm going to record your actions and upload the video to the Internet!" I say firmly to Wendy, "We shall not be discussing this matter. If you save him, we'll get a divorce right away!"

The company janitor suffers a heart attack, and I race toward the elevator with him on my back. But the new COO, Alexis Brown, refuses to let us in with the excuse that we're dirty and smelly. I beg her, but she just scoffs and has security pin me to the floor. Then she takes the elevator down and deliberately presses every floor button to delay us. The janitor misses the critical window for treatment and dies on my back. The next day, Alexis calls a company meeting and shifts the blame on me. She tries to fire me for causing a disturbance at work and even demands compensation for her emotional distress. I look at her coldly before putting the security footage up on the big screen. Then, I say, "Ms. Brown, you left your own father to die. He sacrificed everything to put you through college. How are you going to pay for that?"

I was a guesthouse owner in Verano, a popular and beautiful town. Every year, around the end of the year, a particularly large number of beautiful women would come to my place. Outsiders did not know why my business was booming, but I knew the reason very well. Once they came in, they all had to leave their most precious things behind before they could go. That went on until a pair of twin college girls knocked on my guesthouse door. One was pure and innocent; the other was cute and naive. They cautiously asked, “Sir, are you guys still hiring for the summer?” I looked them over. The security camera shifted. I saw the text message on my phone and smiled knowingly. “Yes, we are. Five thousand dollars each.” They were overjoyed, but they had no idea the ending had already been sealed the moment they walked in.

On the day the SAT test results were released, my younger brother, who had always been an average student, turned out to be a perfect scorer. Meanwhile, I, the straight-A student, had my results voided because my answers were deemed poorly structured. During a reporter's interview, my brother suddenly dropped to his knees in front of me and slammed his head against the ground. "Henry, I was wrong! "I shouldn't have scored so high! I really didn't mean to refuse to take the exam for you! "Please don't send me back to the fighting ring! "Don't worry! I swear I'll never tell anyone about what you do with men at bars! Please just let me go!" My parents were heartbroken for him. They slapped me over and over while shouting. "It's one thing for you to fool around out there, but how could you bully your brother too? "Thank goodness this was the SAT test, so you couldn't force him to take it for you! Otherwise, you would've ruined his entire future!" My girlfriend immediately dumped me and got together with him instead. She said she wanted to make it up to him on my behalf. As soon as the interview aired, videos of me fooling around with other men in bars spread everywhere online. Before long, all my personal information was exposed. Enraged netizens lured me into a remote forest in the hills. "Are you this desperate? Stay here and reflect on yourself!" I was coiled by a lethally venomous snake. The pain was unbearable. My parents clearly knew what had happened, yet they refused to save me. "It's just a small snake. You're not going to die! "You're not allowed to come home until your brother starts college!" On the day of our high school graduation party, my brother and his girlfriend received acceptance letters from the country's best college, along with a notebook I had sent them.

The Fullerton family, which has dominated the business world for a century, abides by the rule that the strong prevail and the weak are eliminated. Thus, as the adopted son, I've spent 26 years clawing my way to the top. But during the succession ceremony, Dad takes Simon Fullerton, his biological son, by the hand. He declares, "Simon will become the rightful heir of the Fullerton family!" In that instant, every high-society guest in the banquet hall turns to look at me. After all, it is no secret that I gave my all to prove I could inherit the family business. I adhere to a brutal, cutthroat education regime from the very beginning. Simon gets suspended for getting into fights and acting out, while I skip grades and breeze straight through a bachelor's, master's, and doctorate at a top university. Having been given 50,000 dollars to start a business, Simon gambles his way into one million dollars of debt, while I exceed my business targets. He ends up going bankrupt and liquidating his company, while I expand mine into overseas markets, driving its market value well past ten million dollars. I believe I have earned the title of being the strongest between the two and become the one to inherit the family business. I even look at Simon—a hopeless piece of work—and shake my head. Dad, however, stands firm in picking Simon over me. I bite my tongue lightly as I look at Simon's taunting grin, the metallic taste of blood snapping me right out of it. I suddenly realize that I have spent 26 years proving myself for nothing. Dad will still choose Simon to inherit the family business, no matter how impressive my achievement is. I sneer inwardly, thinking that since they want to play dirty, they'd better not blame me for not showing them any mercy.