Plot Twists Short Stories & Mistress Fake Death Novels

After the car accident, one of the Johnson sons was dead and the other gravely injured. When my devout, devoted husband woke up in the hospital, he called out, "Dorothy." He claimed that his body then held the soul of his brother, Elias Johnson. I went mad, calling doctors, priests, anyone I could, desperate to bring my husband back. It was not until that night that I overheard his conversation with our son: "Father, you've loved aunt for years. You even kept yourself chaste in your private prayer room, waiting. Now, finally, you can be with her openly." The man in the bed reached out to stroke our son's hair. "If it weren't to stop your mother from destroying her relationship, I wouldn't have married her." I hid in the shadows, still reeling from their words, when I saw what happened after our son left. The husband I had always known, icy, composed, and ascetic to maintain his devout faith for seven years, was then holding his sister-in-law close on that tiny hospital bed, sharing a warmth meant for lovers. The next day, I applied for Jim Johnson's death certificate and burned our marriage certificate. At his grand wedding, I climbed aboard the helicopter sent to fetch me. However, my once-cold husband went mad, chasing after us down several streets, desperate and unhinged.

After a car accident leaves my older brother, Cedric Horton, fighting for his life, he asks to see me. The sight of his bloodless face sends me into tears, and I swear that I'll take good care of his newborn baby, only for Cedric to shake his head. "You won't have to. Benjamin, the baby is Helena's." For a moment, the world falls silent. My wife, Helena Grant, steps forward and clasps Cedric's hand. Her eyes are red as she drops to her knees before me. "We kept it from you because we never wanted to hurt you. Now that Cedric is dying, all he asks is that you give us your blessing." Still numb, I pick up a pen and sign the divorce papers. Three days later, I bury Cedric myself beneath a headstone that identifies him as the beloved husband of Helena Grant. Mom and Dad are so furious that they disown him. They refuse to recognize his child as family, choosing instead to devote all their time to staying by my side. Yet, five years pass, and my depression worsens. On the day I plan to end my life, I take a bottle of Cedric's favorite liquor to his grave. Instead, I find him standing there, very much alive, holding Helena's hand with his left while carrying a little boy in his right arm. Mom and Dad stand beside them, their eyes filled with concern. "We never would've asked you to fake your death for five years if we weren't afraid Benjamin might hurt all three of you. "He's doing so badly now that he constantly gets his memories mixed up. When we get back, we'll convince him you and Helena were married all along. Then, the three of you can finally stop hiding and live as a family." The bottle hits the ground and shatters, the liquor disappearing into the earth. I pull out my phone and change Helena's contact name to "Mrs. Cedric Horton". They don't need to lie to me anymore, because I'll give them exactly what they want.

When I hear my boyfriend, Terence Bowen, is trapped in a house fire, I immediately rush back to save him. However, after dragging him out with all my strength, I realize it's just a dummy. Laughter erupts from the house next door. "Ariana Brock is such a fool! She fell for it again!" Through a half-open window, I spot Terence lounging on the couch, casually scrolling through his phone. He looks completely fine. "That's the 47th prank we've pulled on her. Three more to go and we're done." "Serves her right. She shouldn't have stolen Bethany Howard's scholarship. Bethany is the one Terence actually cares about. That's why he decided to fake a relationship with Ariana to get revenge 50 times over. Too bad the game will end soon." I bend over, gasping for air. All this time, the relationship I've worked so hard to protect is nothing but a game to them.

I'd been married to Matteo, a Mafia Don, for eight years and had never been able to get pregnant. All because eight years ago, when his enemies ambushed us, I took the blade meant for his heart. The doctors told me my chances of conceiving were almost zero. Matteo said it didn't matter. He had me, and that was enough. Until the day I finally got my pregnancy report, and saw him walk into another house. Inside, a woman took his coat. A pair of twins ran out and grabbed his legs, calling him Daddy. I stood outside the door, the report still crumpled in my hand. That was the moment I learned he'd had another family all along. I didn't ask him why. I tucked the test results away and decided to fake my own death to vanish from Matteo's world completely. I had loved him once. But now, all I wanted was to take the child in my belly and leave forever. By the time news of that "accident" reached his ears, I would have already left this city. From then on, his family, his promises, his regrets. None of it would have anything to do with us.

When I woke up from a three-year coma following a car accident, everyone around me started treating me like I was made of glass. Terrified that something might happen to me again, they micromanaged every hour of my day, making sure I was never left alone. My brother took the morning shift, accompanying me on walks and workouts as I slowly rebuilt my strength. In the afternoon, my best friend kept me company, taking me shopping or to the movies so I would have something to do. In the evening, my parents would take me out for big, hearty meals, insisting that I needed to eat well to get my strength back. Then my boyfriend would come pick me up and take me home. Nestled in his arms before falling asleep one night, I gave a soft chuckle. "You guys don't have to walk on eggshells around me. I'm a grown woman. I'm not going to let anything happen to me again." Donovan O'Brien shook his head, his expression grave. "Violet, you mean the world to all of us. None of us could survive going through that agony a second time." My heart swelled with warmth and happiness, almost to the point of suffocation. That feeling lasted until I accidentally stumbled across a group chat on my best friend's phone, one that included everyone except me. The group was called "Protect Donovan's True Love", and the latest message was from my best friend. Thea Leblanc: [Violet and I just sat down in the theater. You're clear to bring Cheryl home now.] I scrolled upward and found a message from my brother. Neil Sanford: [I'm walking Violet in the park by her building. Donovan, don't bring Cheryl over here for breakfast today.] Further up were messages from my parents: [Violet just finished dinner. Drop Cheryl off and come pick her up.] I tapped on the profile picture for the woman they were talking about. The moment I saw her face, I froze. An icy chill ran straight down my spine. The very woman who had put me in a coma for three years was now with my husband. And the people I had believed loved and protected me had been covering for them the entire time.