Contos sobre Plot Twists e Romances com Mistress e Biological Family

Everyone knew that Simon Zimmer and Luna Springfield had been friends with benefits for a year, but they had chosen to hide it from Bertha Marsh, the deaf one. During a New Year’s gathering, Bertha's cold attitude caused displeasure to Simon’s friend. “Simon, is Bertha kicking up a fuss again? Seriously, that doctor of yours is more considerate. She knows how to get you into a good mood and doesn’t throw tantrums,” he said loudly with disdain. Simon’s expression turned dark, and he snapped at him. “Don’t say anything you shouldn’t. Bertha’s the most important person to me. I’ll die if she leaves.” He then anxiously signed to Bertha to ask whether she was sick. What he did not know was that Bertha had heard it all, and their future together was over.

My twin sister, Rebecca Shaffer, was kidnapped while saving me. The trauma left her with a mental illness that made her lash out at everyone around her. The only person who could get close to her, the only one who could calm her down, was my husband, Ezekiel Roberts. For the sake of her recovery, my parents insisted that Rebecca move into the master bedroom of my newlywed home. Whenever Ezekiel and I were intimate, Rebecca would lose control and throw things at me. Then, Ezekiel would scoop her up in his arms and carry her into the bedroom, soothing her with gentle words. Everyone kept telling me the same thing. "If Rebecca hadn't tried to save you, she wouldn't be like this now. You owe her this much!" I had no response to that, so I gave in again and again. That was, until I accidentally overheard a conversation between Rebecca and my parents. "How much longer do I have to keep pretending to be crazy? I'm so sick of sneaking around like this!" My parents looked at her with sympathy in their eyes. Ezekiel gently caressed her stomach and said, "Don't worry. I won't let Rebecca or the baby suffer even a little bit. Once I have Maisie completely under my control, I'll make everything public." I clutched the pregnancy test report in my hand and let out a bitter laugh. From now on, they would not need to keep up their elaborate charade. I would leave on my own.

When I was seven, my father brought home a beautiful lady who gave me a mango. That day, my mother watched me happily eating the mango while she signed her name on the divorce papers. After that, she jumped off the roof of our building. From then on, mangoes became the nightmare of my life. So on my wedding day, I told my husband, Alan Holt, "If you ever want a divorce, just give me a mango." Alan pulled me into his arms, quiet. From then on, mangoes became off-limits for him, too. On Christmas Eve of our fifth year of marriage, Alan's childhood sweetheart, Larissa Fennimore, left a mango on his desk at the office. The very same day, Alan announced he was cutting ties with Larissa and fired her from the company. That day, I truly believed he was the man I was meant to be with. Half a year later, I flew back from overseas, having just closed a partnership deal worth about 200 million dollars. At the celebration dinner, Alan handed me a drink. After I had finished half the glass, his so-called childhood sweetheart, the woman who had been kicked out of the company, stood behind me with a big grin and asked, "Does the mango juice taste good?" I stared at Alan in disbelief, and he was trying hard not to laugh. "Don't be mad. Larissa insisted I played a little joke on you. I didn't actually give you a mango; I just gave you a bottle of mango juice. But I think she's right. The fact that you don't eat mangoes is a real problem. You were really enjoying that juice just now." My face went cold. I lifted my hand and threw the rest of the mango juice in his face, then turned around and walked away. Some things are never a joke. I wouldn't kid around with mangoes or divorce.

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?”

100 days before the SAT, I drowned and woke up as a lowly maid in an ancient royal household. After I accidentally stained the head housekeeper's clothes, she crushed my right hand, the one I used for writing. For the whole 100 days, I did whatever it took to survive in this rigid old-world society. I ate dog food, slept in a woodshed, and was even forced to empty chamber pots for the entire household. While I was made to collect firewood from the rockery in the backyard, I overheard two armed guards chatting as they smoked. "She's in this situation because she's the biological daughter who was just brought back," one of the guards said. He continued, "To make sure the Steeles' other daughter gets the one chance that can secure her place at Arvona University, Mr. Locke spends tens of millions to rent out this entire film studio and keeps her trapped here as a maid. "Once the SAT ends at 5:00 pm tomorrow, it'll be too late to change anything, and this whole act will be over." The firewood in my arms fell to the ground, and I felt a chill ran through me. Ezra Locke, my childhood sweetheart and boyfriend, did all this just to give Rhea Steele that one chance at Arvona University. However, they still didn't know that I already had a guaranteed admission offer from Jeston University. The next night, as the entire household lined up to welcome the young lord and his cousin, I looked up for the first time and locked eyes with Ezra. He was dressed like royalty. My voice was hoarse as I called out, "Ezra, you spend millions hiring hundreds of actors to put on this act with me. Do you really think this is fun?"

After we submit our college applications, the four of us sit down to figure out where to go for our graduation trip. My cousin, Alia Fulton, taps her finger on a travel agency brochure. "I want to go to Moonbrook Town." She glances over at my brother, Trevon Holden, who is glued to his phone playing games. "Where do you want to go, Trevon?" Without bothering to look up, Trevon just mutters, "Anywhere." Alia beams and turns to my childhood sweetheart, Evan Harper. "How about you, Evan?" Evan gives her a fond smile. "Wherever you pick. I'll handle the itinerary." I look over at Evan, who's looking up travel tips. Nobody asks where I want to go, not even Evan. He has forgotten about his promise to take me to see the ocean. Ever since Alia moved in with us, everyone keeps lecturing me about how hard her life is, telling me I have to let her have her way. Evan is the only one who tells me, "They all tell you to give in, but I won't." He brings me breakfast from home, buys me a study lamp to protect my eyes, and helps me with my homework. "We're going to Jovelle University together. We'll move far away, and you won't ever have to give in to anyone again." But when I log on to verify my application, I see my target school has been swapped out for a local college. I immediately change it back and rush over to Evan's place, only to overhear him talking to Trevon. "Are you sure about giving up Jovelle University to stay local? What about Yelena?" Trevon asked. "Yeah, Alia wants the four of us to stick together, so I changed Yelena's choices too. We're getting married eventually anyway. I can just make it up to her later. She can just let Alia have this one." Right then and there, I decide not to tell him that I've switched my target school back.

My twin sister and I were born with the same face and nothing else in common. Elara was gentle enough to step around an ant. I was vicious. Cross me and I'd take your skin off and never lose a night's sleep over it. The year we came of age, the Crown Prince chose Elara. But the old court held that royal twins brought ruin. If Elara was to be Crown Princess, I had to die. So our parents wept and begged me to drink a death-simulating draught and disappear forever. Before I left, I made three demands. First, my Shadow Guard would pass to Elara. Second, she'd have a dowry worthy of a princess and a wedding no one could sneer at. Third, if the Crown Prince ever wronged her, they'd bring her home. They swore to all three. They told me that once I was gone, Elara could take the throne beside him without a whisper against her, and never want for anything again. I drank the draught and rode north to the frontier. I thought one life of mine was a fair price for a lifetime of hers. Three years later, pain tore me out of sleep. Twins share what the other feels. Something had happened to Elara. I rode for the capital through the night, and my sister was gone. A woman I'd never seen was being crowned Empress in her place. And our parents sat below the dais, smiling. Three years, and they'd forgotten one thing. Elara was the only one who ever kept me on a leash. And she wasn't there anymore.

For the third time, Mom complains that the fridge isn't cooling properly. I know she's waiting for me to offer to buy a new one. Mom's always saying I'm the one holding this family together. She constantly reminds me that my younger sister, Celia Kessler, only makes 2,000 dollars a month and can't be expected to help. So everything falls on me. When Mom says her bedroom is too hot, I grit my teeth and buy her a new air conditioner. When Dad complains about his constant neck pain, I scrape a living for a month so I can afford a neck massager for him. Last year, I even paid for most of the renovations on the house, scrimping and saving to cover the cost. I've been working for five years and make 8,000 dollars a month. But by the end of every month, I don't even have 500 dollars left. Seeing that I'm not going to say anything, Mom slams her fork down on the table and shoots me a glance. "They say you have kids so someone will take care of you when you're old. Guess I wasn't that lucky!" My chest tightens, and suddenly the food in my mouth is hard to swallow. I'm about to say something when the front door opens. Celia calls out cheerfully, "Mom, I got paid almost 10,000 dollars! You and Dad don't need to give me the usual 4,000 this month!" I look up, stunned. Celia walks in carrying the latest tablet, and my boyfriend, Bryan Alston, is right behind her. He told me he had a client meeting today. That's when I realize where the money has really been going. Every month, I give Mom an extra 5,000 dollars for household expenses, and she's been giving most of it to Celia. Everyone depends on me, but somehow I'm the one who has the least.