Contos sobre Plot Twists e Romances com Mistress e Face Slapping

On my fifth birthday after getting together with Kimberly Rivers, I sit at a table filled with dishes that have gone cold, just like I have for the past few years. Much like she did last year, Kimberly promises to celebrate my birthday with me this year, but then she goes back on her word. This year, her excuse is that her childhood friend, Gregory Morales, has invited her and several of her best friends to appear in his glamor shoot. Hence, she stands me up once again and runs off to him without any hesitation. At 11:00 pm that night, Gregory uploads a photo onto his Instagram and sets it so that only I can see it. In the photo, four women in skimpy bikinis are partially kneeling around a man who stood with the unshakable confidence of truth itself. The attached caption read, "I want more than just your heart—I want your body too." I take a screenshot of the photo, then send it to the boyfriends of Kimberly's three best friends. Since they look down on me so much, they'd better hope that they won't need to come begging me on their knees in the future.

I have to go on a business trip for a week, so I get a cat-sitter to come over and feed my cat Muffin while I'm away. But on the second day, when I check the live footage from the living room surveillance camera, I see my fiancee, Kate Swanson's childhood friend Samuel Lambert enter the password for the front door and walk into the house. Then, he throws a grape into Muffin's bowl. Samuel Lambert raises an eyebrow in the direction of the surveillance camera. "Hey, Jonathan. Muffin is a smart one, isn't it? It's not touching the grape at all." Then, as I watch in horror, he unplugs the surveillance camera. I feel my heart sink, and I immediately ask the cat-sitter to head back over and check in on Muffin. Then, I call Kate and question her. "You gave Samuel the password to our house again, didn't you? Did you know he tried feeding Muffin a grape, and he even unplugged the surveillance camera in the living room?" Kate answers with thinning patience, "But Muffin is fine, isn't he? Samuel was just messing around. He doesn't mean it. Also, he has already apologized to me. He said what happened with the surveillance camera was just an accident. "Come on, you're a grown man, so stop making such a huge fuss over nothing. Samuel and I have known each other since we were in diapers. Am I not allowed to talk to him anymore after we get married? Well, I guess Samuel was right. You really are somewhat of a control freak." That's the 38th time. I've changed the password 38 times, which is also the number of times Kate has leaked the new password to Samuel. For some reason, I don't think I'll change it a 39th time.

At our engagement party, Michael walked on stage hand-in-hand with a pregnant woman. In front of all the high-society guests in the room, he called off our wedding. “Chloe is carrying my heir,” Michael declared. “I won’t let her suffer. You, you can stay as my side chick.” The crowd erupted into laughter. Michael’s friends cheered, passing cash around. “Told you!” one snickered. “That desperate loser won’t ever leave him. I won the bet!” “Everyone knows she’s a broke nobody. Without Michael, she’s nothing.” Michael handed me a black card with a smug smirk. “Be good, and I’ll still take care of you.” I looked at his arrogant face and almost laughed out loud. Yes, I gave up everything for him. I let him strip me of my pride. But five minutes ago, my lawyer called. My estranged billionaire father just died. And he left his entire fortune to me.

We're at a department dinner when Logan Gilroy tags me in the work group chat. We've been secretly dating for five years. "Everyone else already paid their share without me having to ask. Do I really have to chase you down for yours?" My best friend, Grace Hopkins, immediately posts a screenshot showing she's already paid. "Ashley, are you having money trouble or something? If you really can't afford your share, I can cover it for you." Within seconds, my coworkers start piling on. "I've never seen anyone so shameless. Mr. Gilroy actually had to call you out in the group chat just to get you to pay your share!" "If you can't afford to eat out, then don't come. She probably only showed up because she wanted an excuse to get close to Mr. Gilroy." "At least Grace knows what's appropriate. No wonder Mr. Gilroy always looks out for her." The boyfriend I've kept secret for five years is humiliating me in front of the entire department, and my best friend is right there backing him up. A new post pops up on my feed. Grace has posted a screenshot showing that Logan returned her payment. Her caption reads, "Dinner with him means I never have to split the bill." Logan likes the post almost immediately and comments, "You showed up, so there's no way I'm letting you pay." I swallow hard, my finger hovering over the screen for a long moment. Then Logan tags me in the work group chat again. "We're not close enough for me to be treating you to dinner, are we, Ms. Leith?" After a long moment, I open the shopping app and cancel the anniversary gift I ordered for him. Then I transfer him my share and post a screenshot in the group chat. Apparently, we're not that close after all. Our fifth anniversary hardly seems worth celebrating now.

The day the company is exposed for accounting fraud, my wife, Megan Grant, immediately holds a press conference to protect Liam Johnson. She shifts all the blame onto me, publicly declaring that I will be punished by the law. Liam puts on an act of heartbreak, saying, "Flynn, I warned you a long time ago that you can't just take the company's money. Why didn't you listen?" My coworkers stare at me in disbelief, expecting me to defend myself. Instead, I smile, take responsibility for everything, and resign. Megan thinks I've finally come to my senses and quietly promises me, "Once this blows over, I'll find a way to get your position back. I'll also tell everyone about our marriage. Consider it my way of making it up to you." However, there's one thing she doesn't know. In order to protect the company's interests, the chairman ordered me to install monitoring software on all the company's computers on the day we opened our doors. Once he retrieves those system logs, their lies will fall apart! When the truth comes to light, they won't just be facing massive financial fines; they'll be facing prison time too!

The night my girlfriend, Lesley Cohen—whom I've financially supported for years—officially announces her relationship with Archie Gould, the System determines that I have failed my mission and strips me of my "saint's heart". From that moment on, I stop caring about her future and focus entirely on my career, eventually landing a spot among the Fortune 500. However, once I withdraw all financial support, Lesley confronts me with tearful eyes. "You always said that loving someone means giving them everything they want or need without asking for anything in return!" I'm baffled. She is the one who finds my money filthy, so why is she suddenly being so calculating about it now?

The day before our wedding, my fiance, Brandon Foster, and his girl bestie pulled out their wedding certificate at the casino. Brandon shrugged as he said, "It's just a joke—we'll be divorced tomorrow, and everyone knows that Wanda and I are strictly platonic." Wanda Stiles, however, was smiling provokingly. "Come on—they say marriage is sacred, so you guys can quit gawking already and hand us our wedding presents!" Everyone around the table laughed, with someone saying, "Alright! I own a business in the West End, and you can have it for your wedding… if you beat me at the dice game. Table rules." I didn't argue and merely sat at the table, smiling faintly as I met Brandon's frown. "The dice roll decides the wedding gift, no? I'll play too."

My daughter, Lily, was hit and dragged for two whole miles by a drunk driver. I rushed her blood-drenched body into the emergency room. While the doctors saved her, I collapsed onto the floor in the hallway. With the last ounce of strength left in my body, I sent a text to my husband, Howard. [Lily is in critical condition. Get to the hospital now!] A few seconds later, my phone chimed with a reply. [Stay safe. I’ll be over as soon as I wrap things up here.]

During our beach vacation, my wife, Carla Locke, lets her guy best friend, Alex Dugan, rub sunscreen all over her. "What have you been eating lately? Feels like you've gone up a cup size." The moment I see Alex's hand lingering on Carla's chest, the drink slips from my hand and shatters on the ground. Carla gets upset and tells me off for being so insecure. "We're just messing around. Why do you always overthink everything?" Alex shoots me a challenging look. "Don't be upset, Hubert. Carla and I are just friends. Sometimes, I wish I'd been born a woman. Then, people wouldn't keep misunderstanding our relationship." Carla leans into his embrace and shakes her head as she looks at me. "I wish you'd stop being so sensitive about this. Stop trying to ruin our friendship." However, Carla and Alex don't know that I'm from another world. After completing my mission in the previous world, the system rewards me with one wish. Since they insist they're just best friends, I'll be more than happy to grant his wish to become a woman.

Yvonne Sharp, my fiancee, and I are at the city hall, intending to get our marriage certificates for the 27th time. The staff member has just called our number when Aaron Sutton, Yvonne's stepbrother, suddenly bends over and grabs his stomach. "My stomach is killing me, Yvonne…" Yvonne immediately supports him, saying, "I'll take you to the hospital right now." Aaron quickly shakes his head. "You don't have to do that. It's a very important day for you and Charlie, so I'll just tough it out, Yvonne." He keeps a tight grip on Yvonne's sleeve despite saying so. Yvonne furrows her brow and says, "You don't have to tough it out. I'll take you to the hospital this instant, Aaron." She hands me the queue ticket after saying that. I look at her and say, "It'll only take ten minutes to register our marriage. Is that too much to ask for?" Yvonne doesn't even spare me a glance. "You've already waited for this moment 26 times. What difference will one more make?" I let out a sudden chuckle after hearing how casual she sounds about it. It turns out that she has always known all along—she has just never taken my waiting seriously. "If we don't register our marriage today, there won't be a 28th time, Yvonne." Yvonne helps Aaron along. She doesn't even bother to look at me as she says, "That's enough, Charlie. I'll go take care of Aaron first." I look down at my phone and pull up the contact information of someone I haven't reached out to in a long time. "Grab your personal documents and get to the city hall within ten minutes."

My buddy, Jayden Jenkins, has come over to my place again to mooch a free meal. It is scorching hot outside, and I am sweating over the stove in the kitchen. Meanwhile, Jayden is lounging in the air-conditioned living room. After biting the tip off a strawberry, he pulls my wife, Willow Simpson, into his arms and casually pops the rest into her mouth. "Here, Willow. Help me finish it," he says with a wicked grin. "It's rare enough that this cheap bastard Caius finally buys strawberries. Now he'll complain that I wasted one if I don't finish it." I wipe the sweat from my forehead and glance toward the living room, just in time to see Willow swallow the half-eaten strawberry. The thing is, she is a serious germaphobe. We've been married for years, and even kissing me is something she rarely allows. I remember another sweltering evening. After playing basketball, I bought a Coke and offered her the half-finished cup. "Willow, you must be thirsty. Here, take a sip. It's nice and cold. It'll cool you down." She slapped the cup away and snapped, "Caius, do you have any idea how many kinds of bacteria are in saliva? Don't ever do something that disgusting again." On that crowded field, people stared at our exchange, some barely hiding their amusement. I froze, my hand still hovering near her forehead as I tried to wipe away her sweat. I knew I would never forget the humiliation I felt in that moment. But I told myself she was simply distant and hard to please. Again and again, I reminded myself not to be so sensitive and to respect her boundaries. Turns out, that wasn't the case. She can set aside her fear of germs. She just isn't willing to do it for me.

I was the famously sickly daughter of a great general. A cold breeze could make me cough blood. Unfortunately, I also had echopraxia, which made me compulsively imitative. Whatever I saw, I copied, and nobody could stop me. When I was three, one of my father's mistresses staged a hanging to win his attention. I thought it looked interesting, looped a sash around my own neck, and copied her. By the time a maid found me, my eyes had already rolled back. The physician forced three bowls of restorative down me through the night before he got me back. When I was five, my half sister threw herself on the floor screaming for candy. I copied her and stayed unconscious for seven whole days. My father even issued one iron rule throughout the Ashford estate: No crying. No tantrums. No dying in front of me. Then, at sixteen, an imperial decree married me to Crown Prince Adrian.

The day we go to pick out our wedding rings, I show up half an hour late trying to save five dollars on the cab fare. By the time I arrive, my boyfriend Travis White and best friend Evelyn Moon have already picked out two rings. They're too busy talking and don't even notice me standing behind them. "This 20 thousand dollar ring is your birthday present. And this 800-dollar one is for Sadie." Evelyn playfully punches Travis's arm. "Stop it! You've already been pretending to be broke to test Sadie for three years. Isn't that enough? "If you dare treat my best friend badly after getting married, you'll have to answer to me!" Travis sighs. "I checked her bank balance last night. She's only got two thousand dollars. She spends too much and doesn't know how to save." I freeze. So, the luxury purchases and property acquisitions I've seen on his phone aren't sent to the wrong person after all. "Whatever. As long as she doesn't get greedy when she chooses the ring, I'll tell her the truth at the wedding," Travis adds. But I think it's time to put an end to his little test.

My boyfriend, Callum Fletcher, is bringing me to meet his parents, but the venue is picked out by his childhood friend, Sasha Mercer. Sasha arrives fashionably late to the local steakhouse, where she gives Callum a playful punch. "I just mentioned it on a whim yesterday, but you actually held the gathering here? Vivian might get upset, you know." Callum gives her a teasing glance as he wipes down her utensils. "Vivian wouldn't mind that. She's not like you. You've been petty since we were kids." Sasha's face turns red, and she retorts in a small voice, "Who are you calling petty?" Callum's mother, Brenda Hayes, simply smiles as she watches them banter. She eagerly nudges the basket of dinner rolls in Sasha's direction, urging her to eat something while we wait for dinner to be served. However, Callum stops her. "We're ordering the ribs. If she fills up on dinner rolls, she won't have room for the protein." I stare at the dinner rolls piled up on my plate. I remember how I've been politely declining Brenda's offer just now. I've glanced desperately at Callum for help, but he just gives me a goofy grin. As it turns out, he actually does know how to defuse the situation, but he only does it for Sasha. Callum and Sasha exchange glances and smile at each other. I know that smile all too well. Callum is my and Sasha's superior, and every time he throws me under the bus to shield Sasha from the heat, they'll share that exact same smile. This time, I've decided I won't be going to the branch office with them anymore. Instead, I'll stay at headquarters and take Callum's place.

My mother-in-law, Matilda Holmes, is celebrating her 60th birthday today. My husband, Joshua Allen, insists I give a toast to his female intern, Lila Deleon. He says Lila's fresh out of college and has no one looking out for her. As his wife, I need to be the bigger person. My eyes fall on the watch circling her wrist. That 38-thousand-dollar watch was an inheritance Mom left me. I don't cry or throw a scene. Instead, I swap out all 12 high-end courses at the birthday party for takeout. Every single box comes with an IOU taped right on top. "Course one, my parents paid 80 thousand dollars for the down payment on our house." "Course two, I raised your startup capital of 50 thousand dollars by selling my wedding gifts." "Course three, that watch you gave her was my mom's inheritance." Furious, Matilda slams her hand on the table. "Shannon Lott, have you lost your damn mind?" I set the final bowl of soup right in front of her. "Calm down, Matilda. This one's called the Bloodline Ender. Finish it, and I'll call the police and report Joshua for transferring marital assets."

Everyone in high society whispered that Tristan Webster kept a tame, submissive trophy girlfriend on his arm. That image shattered at a yacht party when a newcomer pointed at me and asked the room, "Wait, isn't she the legendary woman who slept with Tristan's best friends in one night just to get back at him for cheating?" The room fell dead silent. Tristan's childhood friends sat around the poker table, their expressions unreadable. Tristan, however, simply swirled the wine in his glass and lounged against the leather sofa before casually beckoning me over. "Come here." I walked over without a word and lit his cigarette for him. "Sorry, she caused such a scene back then," he said smoothly, blowing a stream of smoke into the air. His tone gave nothing away. "She certainly gave everyone something to talk about. But after spending a year at the treatment center, she's much calmer now." "Definitely," someone quickly chimed in, trying to lighten the mood. "She's practically trained now." "Yeah." Tristan stubbed out his cigarette, then tipped my chin up with two fingers. "Next month, I'll finally give you the wedding you've been waiting for." "Okay." I looked into his deep, searching eyes and obediently pressed my lips to his. What he didn't know was that I'd stopped caring about that wedding a long time ago.

It was three days before New Year's Eve when a court summons arrived. The court ruled that I had defamed Ethan Tanner and his mistress when I insulted them in the homeowners' group chat and ordered me to issue a public apology every day for fifteen days straight. Ethan was beside himself with delight as he waved the judgment in my face. "I told you. This is a society governed by law. Shrews who hurl abuse have to pay the price. You better get cracking on those 15 days of apologies and not a day less!" I stared at his smug face. Instead of crying or making a scene, I turned around and set up my phone stand. "Fine. Have it your way. I'll apologize right now." "I'm gonna make sure that you go viral and watch as your whole life goes up in flames," I thought to myself.

My boyfriend, Sean Conway, tells me he wants to get married and asks me to wear a wedding dress to the company's annual party. I think he's finally going to propose. So I show up in the most beautiful wedding gown I can find, bouquet in hand, and confess my love to him in front of the entire company. Suddenly, his sweet, innocent-looking secretary, Hannah Sloan, storms over and dumps an entire cup of coffee on me. "You shameless, ugly bitch! Just because you landed a nine-figure deal, you think you can steal my husband? You slut! Keep running your mouth, and I'll shut it for you!" Sean has always been a stickler for the rules, but instead of standing up for me, he accuses me of violating company policy and hands my project over to Hannah. Everyone looks at me with pity, waiting for me to make a scene. But instead of arguing or getting angry, I simply take off my employee badge and toss it to Hannah. "So you're the CEO's wife. My mistake. Consider my director position a wedding gift to you both." What Sean doesn't know is that Dad practically forced me to take on that nine-figure project in the first place. Now that I'm stepping down as project lead, Sean won't be able to move forward with the deal. And since he replaced the project lead at the last minute, his company will be in breach of contract. Bankruptcy will only be the beginning. He'll be left drowning in debt too.

When I found Silas Pembroke, he was carefully untangling a strand of another woman’s hair from his tie clip. The two of them were wrapped around each other, far too close to pretend otherwise. He let out a mocking laugh. “Jenna, what exactly are you going to accuse Sienna and me of this time?” Sienna Vale smiled sweetly. “Mrs. Pembroke, you stayed away longer than usual this time.” I steadied myself and said, “I’m not Jenna. I’m her twin sister, Summer Sinclair.” Silas burst out laughing. “What is this, your latest stunt?” Then his expression hardened. “Keep pushing me, and I can’t promise you’ll stay Mrs. Pembroke forever.” I only looked at him and said quietly, “Silas, my sister left three keepsakes behind for you.”

Serena Sutton was my fiancee, but she wanted to marry my bodyguard, Evan Brooks. The man was a cheat. I didn't want her taken in, so I took her to see for herself what he really was. While the two of them were fighting, a car came through at speed and killed him. And Serena hated me for it with everything in her. In the third year of our marriage, she killed our son. I was in so much pain I was coughing up blood, and she put a knife in me. "Adrian, this is what you owe me for Evan." Only then did I learn that she had never forgotten him. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the second before I meant to expose him. This time, I'm staying out of it.