Plot Twists Mind Reading Short Stories & Novels

In a music competition show, my rival unexpectedly played the melody I had in my mind before I could. Shocked, I confronted her, asking why she plagiarized me. However, she turned the accusation against me and said, "You said I stole your work, but do you have any proof?" However, I was unable to provide any concrete evidence. Thus, I was labeled as a bully and a plagiarist, ultimately meeting a tragic end. Even in my final moments, I couldn't figure out how she managed to steal something from my mind. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on that same stage. Seeing that my rival was about to play her part, I stopped her and said, "This time, it's my turn to go first."

On the very first day my biological parents brought me home, the fake heir framed me for stealing and even got my fiancée to break off our engagement in front of everyone. Then my entire family told me to get out and go back to the countryside. Completely devastated, I wandered to the swimming pool, ready to end my life. That was when the Ragdoll cat at my feet, the fake heir’s beloved pet, suddenly spoke. 【For fuck’s sake! Don’t jump, you idiot!】 【In our last life, that two-faced bastard drove you to your death, stole the multi-billion-dollar inheritance your grandmother left you, and then tortured me to death too!】 I froze, one foot already hovering over the water. The cat smacked a paw against the ground impatiently, hatred blazing in its bright blue eyes. 【And that bastard’s biological parents are serial killers! The evidence is hidden inside the teddy bear in his room!】 【So quit trying to kill yourself, go find the evidence, and let’s take him down together!】 I stared at the cat, completely dumbfounded. But after a moment, I changed my mind. If my family wanted to throw away their real son so badly, then I’d make sure they lived to regret it. I turned around, marched into the kitchen, grabbed the biggest meat cleaver I could find, and kicked open the fake heir’s bedroom door.

At my bachelor party the night before my wedding, my wedding ring starts talking to me. "In a few minutes, your childhood friend Christopher will hand you a hangover pill. Once you take it, you'll fall into a deep sleep and be taken into a private lounge. "He'll unlock your phone, take out a multi-million-dollar loan in your name, then hire escorts to stage a scandal that ruins your reputation." It goes on, "On your wedding day, your alleged sex scandal and crushing debt will be exposed. Your fiancee, Annabelle, will call off the wedding. "Your father, who rushes in from out of town, will die of a heart attack. Unable to bear the shock, your mother will jump to her death. "Debt collectors will hunt you down, and you'll contract a sexually transmitted disease. In the end, you'll die alone in a dumpster." That night's party was Christopher Larson's idea, and everyone here is a close friend or family member. I figure I'm just drunk and hearing things. But a second later, Christopher hands me a pink pill. "Take this hangover pill, Marvin. Big day tomorrow. You can't afford to mess it up," he says. He looks genuinely concerned, but my wedding ring suddenly heats up. "Don't trust him! Leave now, or you'll be completely ruined!" I sober up almost instantly and reach out to Christopher. "My phone's dead. May I borrow yours to make a call?" If he had already set a trap for me, there was no way he'd let me walk away. Then, I call my fiancee, Annabelle Sterling. She answers immediately, and her voice is tight with worry. "Chris?" Hearing her say his name like that makes my heart sink. "The wedding's tomorrow. Make sure you take good care of Marvin," says Annabelle. I let out a breath of relief, guilt creeping in. But my ring keeps getting hotter. A beat later, it says, "Annabelle is more than a month pregnant." I freeze in place as a chill runs down my spine.

At another family dinner, my Don husband Arthur Romano's hot new underboss, Bella Conti, took my seat. I turned to Arthur. "She's sitting in the Donna's seat. Aren't you going to say anything?" Arthur toyed with his custom lighter. "You were late. Don't blame anyone else for taking your seat. There's an empty chair at the end of the table. Sit there if you want. Otherwise, get out!" I was about to answer when Arthur's thoughts came rushing in. Baby, come on, get mad. Say you need me. Say you belong right beside me. Tell the whole family you're the lady of the house. Prove you love me. That's the only way I feel safe. This time, I refused to give him what he wanted. Instead, I looked down and slowly slipped off the wedding ring that symbolized my authority in the family. "If there's no place for me in this house, I guess you don't need me anymore. "Let's get a divorce."

At a high-society gala, Serena Hayes, heiress to the wealthiest family in the city, suddenly suffered a severe allergic reaction and collapsed. When she woke up, tears filled her eyes. In front of everyone, she accused my sister, Lucy, of being jealous of her and deliberately triggering the reaction. I was about to grab my husband, Adrian Lawson, and beg him to use his powerful connections to help my sister when a sweet, coy voice suddenly sounded in my head. [Evelyn Carter is such an idiot. She actually thinks Adrian will help her? While she was pregnant, he spent practically every night in my bed.] [And that stupid kid she carried for nine months? He follows me around all day, crying and begging me to be his mommy.] I felt as if I'd been struck by lightning. I stared at Adrian in disbelief. But he only looked at me coldly, his voice detached and blatantly biased. "Serena has always been delicate and prone to allergic reactions. The Carter family caused this, so they should pay the price." Even my son, Noah, who had always been so attached to me, pulled away and glared at me with disgust. "Serena is so nice! Mom and Auntie Lucy are the worst! You both deserve to die!" My heart went cold. I signed the divorce papers without hesitation and walked away with nothing. Six years later, at a prestigious business summit, Noah grabbed my sleeve so tightly his knuckles turned white. His voice trembled. "Mom?" I calmly pulled my arm free. "You've mistaken me for someone else." "My husband and son haven't arrived yet." Noah froze. All the color drained from his face.

Jace Griffin was my childhood friend. One of us was a total slacker, and the other was a real troublemaker. The year we were at the peak of our bragging, I said that I would get second place in the exam, and he said he would get first. The results came out. I scored 20 points, and he scored 10 points. Later, I said that I was going to sleep twelve hours a day to make up for it, and he said that he could sleep a full twenty-four hours. In the end, we both spent the night at an internet cafe and stayed until morning. Then, I said that I was going to confess to someone. His eyes flickered. But his thought suddenly came into my mind, “If I accept her confession and stop her from studying, then Winnie’s spot in Harrington University will be secured!” He opened his mouth and was about to say “I do.” But I turned around smoothly and hugged a stray dog that happened to walk past. “Doggy. From now on, you’re my only one.” Jace’s handsome face twisted in anger right away. “Xena, you would rather choose a dog than me?” I rolled my eyes before smiling brightly. Choose him? What was the point of choosing him? Could he even earn me money? I already had a guaranteed admission to Harrington University. I just wanted to raise dogs. I did not have time for a loser like him.

Petra Winslow was the universally acknowledged ice queen of our research institute, and she claimed she could hear what animals were saying. When our convoy was passing through Greyridge bear territory, she suddenly called for us to stop and pointed at a bear by the roadside. "It says it's starving. Let's get out and feed it. I can hear its thoughts. Trust me, it won't hurt us." In my last life, I had refused without hesitation. "That's a Greyridge bear, not some housecat. It'll tear through you like you're made of paper." The team backed down. Later, when news broke that the bear had died, Petra publicly blamed me for it. "I told everyone that the bear was starving, and he stopped us. He's the one who killed it." The internet tore me apart, and Petra's followers stabbed me to death. When I opened my eyes again, there it was on the other side of the windshield, a skeletal Greyridge bear standing by the road. Petra's eyes glistened with tears. "The poor thing. If we don't feed it now, it'll starve to death." The others turned to me. "Come on, Petra said it's hungry, so it's hungry." "Don't chicken out on us." I pulled the car over, reached for my seatbelt, and clicked it tight. "Sure. I'm all for it. Go right ahead."

I'm notoriously known for being a vile heiress in this city's elite circle. I do whatever I want just because my family is rich and powerful. If I don't like someone, I won't hesitate to slap them on the spot. If any family dares to offend me, I'll have my family terminate all contracts with that family's business. Everyone is terrified whenever they bring me up. But everything changes when my dad brings Gwen Herman, the low-income student he's been sponsoring, home with him. Suddenly, I can hear her inner thoughts. Gwen tells me that this world is actually a novel with a plot where everyone adores and dotes on the main character. Apparently, Gwen is the kind-hearted female lead loved by everyone, whereas I'm the evil side character who's destined to be humiliated at every turn. What a coincidence. I already found out about this fact ten years ago. I watch as Gwen cowers at the side delicately like some wounded angel who looks eerily similar to my dad. Meanwhile, my dad is awfully protective of her and goes as far as to be extremely mean to me to my face. That's when I begin chortling loudly. "Just because I call you 'Dad' doesn't mean you're really my father, my dear stepdad."

My buddy, Adam Page, calls me and says that his mom is hospitalized, and he can't rush back in time. He asks me to submit his competition entry that is due tonight. We're both in the competition, but I have already submitted my entry. I'm just about to say yes to helping him when my mouse suddenly jerks. "Don't you dare click it! If you submit his entry for him, you'll lose your first-place prize and the 20,000 dollars prize money! He'll even go on livestream and accuse you of stealing his work, saying that you cost him the prize money and caused his mom to die because she couldn't afford treatment. You'll be torn apart by online bullying, saddled with a huge debt, and end up losing everything!" My hands shake, and I immediately stop what I'm doing. My mouse jerks again. I close the page, create a group chat on WhatsApp, and add the advisor, Colby Jackman, and the teacher, Irene Dawson, who is in charge of the project.

My wealthy family could hear every thought in my head. On my first day home, they sent their adopted son a forty-thousand-dollar allowance. Me? They sent thirty bucks. I grumbled to myself, 'Is this a joke? Thirty dollars? I make more than that tightening bolts at the plant.' They looked down their noses at me, sneering, waiting for me to come crawling to them. Then they heard what I thought next. 'A top Healy City family's monthly allowance for both its sons adds up to a measly 40,030 dollars? That wouldn't even buy a square yard of insulation. 'What family fortune is there to even fight over? 'The plant still hasn't hit this year's KPI of thirty rockets. Instead of wasting time on rich-family power games, I could be building a few more rockets to hold off the aliens.'

When I attend a family day event at the kindergarten, I overhear my son, Caleb Sheridan, whispering to his friends, "You can't tell your mommy that the food at the cafeteria is bad. If you do, you'll get beaten up! Bryan complained about the food and refused to eat it. That's why he got taken to the punishment room for a beating." Feeling alarmed, I immediately check in with Bryan Hunter's mother, Annette Morris. Annette sends me a bunch of question marks before showing me a video of Bryan happily digging into his food. "Don't be ridiculous! Bryan behaves so well during mealtimes these days. I can't thank his teacher enough!" Realizing that Caleb was blabbering nonsense, I decide to reprimand him. Just as I'm about to tell him not to make up stories like that, he frowns and remarks, "Mommy, Bryan vomits when he eats celery, so why is he eating it?"

On New Year's Eve, my boyfriend, Brian Eggert, gives me a second-hand fake bag as my New Year's gift. Angered, I break up with him immediately before I run off to meet my best friend, Cathy Capshaw, so that I can complain about him to her. Unexpectedly, the moment I see Cathy, I suddenly hear her inner voice. "Finally, you've broken up with Brian, you bitch! He never prepared a second-hand fake bag for you—I was the one who swapped bags when both of you weren't paying attention! "I suppose you don't know jackshit, huh? The man whom you've just broken up with is actually the richest man in town. He was planning to propose to you tonight, too! "Why should you have the best guy alive? From now on, he's mine!" After hearing Cathy's inner voice, I quickly check the security footage. As expected, I see her swapping bags sneakily. Later on, I cut off all ties with Cathy and quickly reconcile with Brian after clearing up the misunderstanding with him. Soon, we get married. What I don't expect is that Brian doesn't have money at all after our marriage. On top of that, he even racks up a huge debt. Every day, I'm forced to hide from the debtors, only to fall to my death in the end. When I wake up again, I've returned to the day I can hear Cathy's inner voice.

I had an arranged marriage, and my wife was the only daughter of her family. Because of PTSD, she couldn't be intimate with anyone. When she handed me the signed agreement, she also sent a gentle, obedient woman to my room. "Even though it's our wedding night, I'm afraid you'll have to put up with this." I stared at her in disbelief, wondering if this was some kind of test of my character. Just as I was about to launch into a speech about loyalty and marriage, I suddenly heard the thoughts of the psychologist standing beside her. [What does he have to complain about? That position should've been mine! If Kayla didn't need the Grant family's support, she never would've agreed to marry a loser like him! Luckily, Kayla loves me. She even used PTSD as an excuse to save herself for me. I just need to try harder and get her pregnant, then Benjamin Grant will become a complete laughingstock!] The words that had been on the tip of my tongue disappeared instantly. Without hesitation, I accepted Kayla's arrangement. There was nothing wrong with people in a business marriage living separate lives. I wasn't an idiot. Why would I pick a fight with Kayla over something like this? Living peacefully and minding my own business was the smartest choice. To show that I had no inappropriate intentions toward her, I even ordered maternity and baby supplies for her. "I heard you're pregnant. Coincidentally, the woman you sent to me is pregnant too." I was planning to ask her for some advice. Instead, her face darkened. She gritted her teeth and snapped, "I'm not pregnant! She's not your mistress either. She's the IVF coordinator I hired to get you up to speed!"

I was sent back in time to the very day my sister and I had to choose our mafia husbands. This time, though, I discovered I could hear people’s thoughts. In my previous life, my sister married Caspian, a violent brute. She lived every day in fear, trapped in a nightmare she could never escape. I, on the other hand, married Arnold—the gentleman everyone admired, living a life others envied. However, my sister had also been sent back in time, and this time, she made her move first. She chose Arnold, the “perfect husband” she had always coveted. At that moment, her thoughts echoed clearly in my mind. ‘Elysia shall suffer instead. This time, I’ll make sure I choose the good husband first.’ Her malice was unmistakable. My dear sister, did you really think I was happy in my last life? Since you want that life so badly, I’ll hand it to you myself.

On the day I received my wife's prenatal checkup report, I suddenly heard the inner voice of the unborn baby in her belly. 'Daddy, Mommy is going to divorce you right after she gives birth to me! 'Since her first love is infertile, Mommy wants to give birth to a son so she can run away and live happily ever after with him!' Believing this without a shadow of a doubt, I resolutely chose to get a divorce. However, after the divorce, my health rapidly deteriorated day by day, and I was eventually diagnosed with terminal cancer. While undergoing chemotherapy at the hospital, I crossed paths with my ex-wife. Once again, I heard the voice of the baby still in her womb. 'Haha! In truth, Mommy never cheated on you at all! I lied to you!' Why did the baby lie? I couldn't understand it even up to the moment of my death. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the exact day my wife's prenatal checkup report came out.

It is the night before the family holds the lottery to decide our arranged marriages, and I happen to overhear my family talking to Julia Quinton, the woman I love. "I never thought Xander would burn us all to death in our past life. Thankfully, we've all been reborn. We have to make sure Xander doesn't get drawn in the lottery tomorrow." Julia feels nothing but utter disgust for me. "There's no way I'll ever marry him again now that I've been reborn!" If that is how they feel, I decide to give everyone what they want. I tamper with my lot and marry someone else instead, only for all of them to end up regretting it.

As the reigning eight-time champion of the transmigration department, I'm deeply traumatized by the idea of having fight with the fake heiress. Unfortunately, not only is there an 18-year-old fake heiress in my family of this world, but she also has eight older siblings who dote on her endlessly. Seriously, the stereotypical real versus fake heiress plot is driving me crazy. I retreat into the depths of my mom's womb immediately, my tiny hands clamping down on the umbilical cord. My refusal to leave my mom's body is absolute. [Those idiotic brothers of mine keep spoiling that 18-year-old extremely childish fake heiress who insists on sitting in a baby trolley all the time! If I were to leave this place, I'd definitely get assassinated by them!] My mom, who can hear my internal thoughts, is forced to suffer due to the complications in her labor for 72 hours straight. Finally, she yields to me by signing the "Zero-Tolerance Treaty on Unequal Treatment". She also assigns 108 bodyguards to me overnight. Satisfied, I finally release my hold on the umbilical cord and make my flashy entrance to this world. Mom taps me on my forehead. "Natalie is extremely pure and innocent. She would never come up with ways to hurt you." On the first day I go home, Natalie Fairchild, the fake heiress, pushes my crib toward the staircase on purpose. "I wanna see if Nev can fly!" A bodyguard instantly reaches out to catch my crib from coursing through the air. Scared out of her wits, Natalie slumps to the floor immediately. There, she starts crying like a baby. My second brother, Elliot Fairchild, pulls her into his arms lovingly. He says reassuringly, "Don't be scared, Nat. The bodyguard must have frightened you because of his actions, right? Now, now, you can stop crying now. Nev is fine, isn't she?" The next thing he knows, he gets tossed into the heavy downpour by another bodyguard.

Everyone in class can hear my thoughts, but there's a catch—the "thoughts" they hear have been deliberately altered. During the exam, while I swiftly fill out the answer sheet, the rest of the class stays put. They eagerly wait to hear the answers in my head. [The answer for this is C, of course. These questions are exactly the same as the ones Ms. Clarke revealed to me. I'm going to be the top student again without even breaking a sweat!] Everyone else immediately copy my answers. Ultimately, apart from me, they all end up failing the exam. During our swimming class, my leg cramps, and I start sinking underwater. I try to scream for help, but my classmates hear something entirely different in my head. [I'm going to act like I'm drowning and see who's the idiot who jumps in to save me. Hahaha!] In the end, they all watch indifferently as I drown. My eyes open again. I've gone back in time to the day of the exam. This time, I can also hear these "thoughts" of mine that have been altered.

A split second before I swipe my card at the Hermès boutique, I hear my unborn son's scream inside my head. "Mom, don't buy this useless designer bag! The zombie apocalypse is only a month away! This is inedible, and it can't be used as a weapon either. What's the point of buying it? Buy essential food! Sell that limited-edition sports car at home and trade it for a bulletproof armored vehicle!" My hand trembles, and the purchase order worth millions scatters across the floor. The sales associate looks at me with disdain and says, "Ms. Webb, if you don't have enough funds, you can always come back another day." I ignore her and immediately turn around to call the owner of the wholesale market. Without wasting any time, I order, "I need 10,000 pounds of potatoes and 5,000 pounds of beef. Make sure it's the kind with the fatty parts! I want it delivered immediately!" From this moment onwards, the socialite Phoebe Webb who only knows how to shop is gone. In her place stands a survivalist obsessed with preparing for the end of the world.

I'm about to buy a house before getting married. With my budget in mind, the real estate agent recommends a run-down apartment in a 30-year-old building. My girlfriend explodes on the spot, saying that the real estate agent is looking down on us. Her friends all live in high-end apartments. She threatens to break up with me if I buy a run-down apartment for us to live in after we get married. I'm about to defuse the situation and suggest we check out other places when an old, raspy voice echoes in my mind. "This young woman can't tell treasure from trash. I've got 110 pounds of gold in these walls. That's enough to buy a few high-end apartments! "A fortune is right in front of you, and you're letting it slip away. You deserve to be poor forever!"