Plot Twists Short Stories & Middle-Aged Revenge Novels

At sixty-five, I got served divorce papers. The same day, my husband Sebastian — decked out in his wedding suit, of all things — popped a handful of sleeping pills in a suicide attempt. For years, we were the perfect couple. The kind of pair neighbors whispered about with envy. I couldn't wrap my head around it. The divorce. The pills. None of it made sense. Not until I found the photo and letter in his pocket.

At a celebration for the $30 billion mining deal I'd negotiated for the Silver Moon pack, Alpha Liam Ashford fired me as CEO of the pack's company in front of everyone. My replacement was his stepsister, Isabelle Hale. "Elena, you're 46, your face is scarred, and you can't even shift into a full wolf." Liam's gaze swept over the old scar by my eye, and his voice dripped with contempt. "The company doesn't need a washed-up, broken wolf." In front of everyone, Isabelle unpinned my CEO badge. Smiling, she announced that I was only fit to stay in the territory as a junior administrator. My mother held on to me tight. "He's the Alpha. Silver Moon has protected us for so many years. Just put up with it." Everyone was waiting for me to back down. Instead, I smiled, gave a small round of applause, then turned and accepted an offer from the most powerful Alpha in all the territories. If Silver Moon wanted my project without me, we'd see how far they got on that mine without my license.

My father, Harlan Lowe, suffers from severe face blindness. To him, every woman in the world looks the same. 40 years ago, he was drugged by a business rival and spent one fateful night with the woman who would later become my mother. Unable to recognize her afterward, he mistakenly marries Mildred Roberts, the opportunistic woman who steals her place and claims the credit that is never hers. In time, Harlan and Mildred become one of the city's most celebrated power couples, admired by everyone. Meanwhile, my mother is left to bear the consequences alone. Pregnant and unmarried, she is branded a promiscuous woman, shunned by society, and never marries. Years of humiliation and loneliness eventually drive her into depression and lead her to take her own life. 40 years later, I am now a man who has built a life through brilliance and relentless determination. I end up marrying Bella Harrison, the beloved daughter of the wealthiest dynasty in the country. We share a loving marriage and a happy family. The peace ends the day my daughter, Josie Gardner, brings her boyfriend home. Seated at the head of the family table, I study the young man. Arrogant, confident, and unmistakably spoiled, he carries himself like someone who has never known hardship. I know immediately that he is Simon Lowe, the grandson of Harlan and Mildred. Looking at Simon's face, which bears an uncanny resemblance to Harlan's, I ignore the gift he offers me. "You want to marry my daughter? In your wildest dreams."

The day before I am supposed to move into a nursing home, my daughter-in-law, Emily Freeman, cancels the deposit I have already paid without my permission. "It's not easy for Ryan to earn money. Instead of helping us save money, you want to stay somewhere so expensive," Emily complains. I frown and explain that I paid with my own money. Her expression darkens as she rants, "Isn't your money our money? Besides, how much money can you possibly have? Didn't you get all of it from Ryan anyway? "You don't help take care of the kids or do any housework. Now, you're just bleeding us dry so that you can enjoy yourself!" My son, Ryan Pratt, sides with her and criticizes me as well. "Mom, this is such a waste of money. If you ask me, you might as well go to a senior community and get a bed there for ten dollars. Someone will still take care of you." I am so furious that I faint on the spot and am rushed to the hospital. With the refunded money, Ryan takes Emily and goes on vacation abroad with his in-laws. After being discharged, the first thing I do is put the apartment I once gave my son as a wedding gift up for sale with a real estate agent.

In my previous life, my three sons told me they wanted to set up a Family Bond Fund for me. Each of them would deposit three thousand dollars every month. I cried with gratitude, truly believing that decades of sacrifice had finally paid off. One of them even said, "Mom, you've given us so much. It's our turn to take care of you now." However, eight years later, I was told I have uremia. That was when I discover that the bank card, which supposedly held the fund, couldn't even cover the dialysis deposit. Soon after, my eldest son video-called me. He said he wanted to buy a better apartment in a good school district. He was short of 150 thousand dollars for the down payment and asked if I could lend it to him first. My second son came to the hospital with his wife and daughter. He didn't ask about my condition at all. Instead, he kept showing off his daughter's piano competition trophy, hinting that he needed 50 thousand dollars to enroll her in a prestigious international piano program. My youngest son was even more straightforward. He said he had his eye on a limited-edition pair of sneakers and wanted me to pay 30 thousand dollars for them as a birthday gift. The moment they realized the bank account didn't have enough money, their faces fell. "We each put in three thousand dollars every month. Over eight years, that's at least eight hundred thousand dollars. Mom, are you hiding the money from us?" To force me to reveal my savings, they took turns pressuring me, switching between sweet talk and threats. They even told relatives that I had dementia and had been scammed out of my money. Unable to take it anymore, I yanked out my IV late one night and walked out of the hospital, only to be hit by a car, dying instantly. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back on the day of my hospital checkup.

My mate, Kael, got killed by rogues while trying to save me. He left behind a debt of ten million and a child, not yet a year old. Out of guilt and longing for Kael, I refused the advances of many excellent werewolves and never accepted a second chance, mate. I worked endlessly to raise my child and pay off the debt. But during a business meeting at a hotel, I saw my mate—who was supposed to be dead—lying in bed with my stepsister, Lila.

My dad’s crush came back, and my mom decided to fake her death. “Jane, I’m the main character of a tragic story. If I don’t fake my death now, I’ll end up miserable. “Go tell your dad that Quiana killed me.” In my past life, I had done exactly as she said. My dad had flown into a rage and destroyed the Sullivan family. After that, my mom returned to the land of the living. I thought our family would finally be whole again. Instead, she clung to Dad and cried. “I gave Jane my contact information. How could she say I was dead?” To punish me, my dad locked me in a cold storage room. My mom shot me a cold look. “That’s what you get for calling that woman pretty.” In the cold storage room, at −58°F, I froze to death. When I opened my eyes again, my mom had already faked her death and ran off with her devoted admirer. I looked at my dad and asked with an innocent expression, “Dad, what does eloping mean?”