Cerita Pendek Plot Twists & Novel Mistress Revenge

My boyfriend thought I was too fat at 121 pounds. I signed up for a gym and started working out like crazy, but the more I tried to lose weight, the more I gained. Meanwhile, my best friend, Chloe Woods, was doing late-night eating streams every single day, stuffing herself with steaks, seafood, and greasy takeout. Not only did she not gain weight, she dropped from 154 pounds to 143. When my boyfriend started tearing into me even worse than before, I suddenly heard the tabby cat’s voice in my head. “You idiot. Chloe’s got you trapped in a weight-swap system. “No matter how hard you try to lose weight, she’s the one getting thinner. Every pound you lose is a pound she drops. She’s trying to ruin you.” I froze and turned to look at my best friend, Chloe. She was staring at my boyfriend without even trying to hide it, her eyes full of admiration. Then the tabby’s voice exploded in my ears again. “Chloe is obsessed with that trashy loser. Once she gets skinny, the two of them will hook up. Then they'll team up to get you killed and spend your settlement money living a happy life.” The moment I learned the truth, I smiled. Since my so-called best friend wanted to be skinny that badly, if I made her whole body weigh less than 50 pounds, she’d probably be very grateful to me, right?

My brother Christopher owned a boutique on Fifth Avenue. I'd gone in, picked out a few pieces, grabbed a silk scarf on the way, and was heading for the door. The clerk behind the register stopped me. "Ma'am, we'll need you to settle this now." I looked up. Her name tag said Yvonne. Unfamiliar face. Probably new. I didn't think much of it. "Just put it on the owner's account," I said politely. "He knows who I am." She gave a little snort through her nose, eyes raking from my hair down to my shoes. "We don't run accounts here. You might have the wrong store." She pushed an itemized bill across the counter. Four hundred thousand dollars. I scanned the line items. Personal Style Consultation. Premium Fitting Service. VIP Client Private Service. Every single charge cost more than the clothes themselves. I let out a short laugh. "I'm a Whitfield. Christopher's my brother. Whatever this is, he can deal with it at home." Her smile got uglier. "Anyone can claim to be a Whitfield, sweetheart. Are you trying to skip out on the bill, or are you just trying to embarrass yourself?" I didn't bother arguing. I pulled out my phone and texted Christopher: [Fire the clerk named Yvonne in the next ten minutes, or I pull every dollar I have in this store.]

Victor Cordano was the youngest heir to the Sicilian Mafia, and I was his worst nightmare: the family's finance chief. Before the old Don died, he entrusted me with the books. I kept them with a Quaker's strict discipline. I slashed the budget for Victor's yacht parties, rationed his special-order cigars, and even checked the receipts on the estate's milk orders. A violent, reckless new Don against a stubborn stickler who couldn't be bribed or bullied. All his men figured he'd put a bullet in my head sooner or later. But the truth was, in a family where danger lurked around every corner, we'd been secretly in love for three whole years. The only one who knew our secret was my little sister, Bella, whom I'd raised like my own daughter. I risked my life for the family so Bella could live a normal life, study ballet, and put on her own art shows. I indulged her every whim. Victor had once pinned me against the wall, gritting his teeth. "Sofia, you're obsessed with protecting Bella. When are you going to give me some of that attention?" Later, I was sent to Mexico to collect a debt, and Bella made me a promise. "Focus on your work, Sis. I'll check all his expenses against your rules!" Two months later, exhausted and lucky to be alive, I made it back to the estate, hoping to surprise her. Instead, I saw Bella come out of the bathroom in Victor's oversized shirt, stand on tiptoe, and kiss him hard.

On our third wedding anniversary, I went out of my way to host an anniversary party. But my husband and Alpha, Johnny, took his assistant Amy to the seaside for a vacation instead, leaving me alone at the party as the subject of everyone’s mockery. I called the resort and even thoughtfully booked out the entire area just for the two of them as I calmly faced the crowd. Then, I slipped the mate bond dissolution application in with the paperwork for Johnny to sign. In my previous life, I forced him to stay to save face for both Johnny and the pack. That led to Amy leaving alone and dying in a car accident. Johnny didn't blame me—until I carried his pup that he tied me in a car, telling me that he wanted me to feel the pain Amy went through. When the car exploded, I finally realized that Johnny had hated me all along. Now that I had been reborn, I would make sure he lost everything!

I should have been the Northern Pack's future Female Alpha, but my mate Alpha King Aiden Blackwood asked me to give it all up. He insisted on keeping me glued to his side 24/7, claiming he'd die without his mate's touch. I loved him so deeply that I agreed. For seven years, I have been both his perfect Luna and his capable Beta, making his pack stronger day by day. I feel it's all worth it, everyone knows Aiden loves me desperately. Because I have trouble sleeping, he spent $10 Million to buy precious "moon tea" from a witch so I could rest well. But they don't know that every night when I fall asleep, Aiden brings Sarah—our kitchen omega—to our bed. The same wolf who called me "Little moon" would fuck her right beside my unconscious body. The day the doctor told me I was pregnant with twins, I discovered it all. I held back the burning in my heart and chest, and with a weary gaze, I spoke to the Goddess of the Moon: "Goddess, I wish to leave this world." "Would you be willing to give up all this, my child?" I gently rubbed my belly and nodded firmly. The goddess sighed and said: "In three days, I will take you away."

My girlfriend, Elsa Smith, always avoided meeting my parents. Yet, she had no trouble turning around and playing the role of her ex-boyfriend Leo Quinn’s fiancée, happily meeting his relatives instead. And the meeting took place in the apartment I had prepared for us to live in after the wedding. What she did not realize was that I happened to be Leo’s distant cousin. She pretended not to know me and clung sweetly to Leo, saying, "This apartment was bought by my hubby, fully paid for." All the relatives were praising them as a loving couple. To keep me from exposing her, Elsa came over to warn me, "I’m just helping a friend deal with marriage pressure. If you mess this up, we’re done." So, I sincerely offered my congratulations. "Since Leo and I seem to have the same taste in houses and women, I’ve got some wedding supplies that I’m sure he’ll like. I’ll gift them to you both." That was when Elsa finally started to panic.

I had been married to Natasha Bates for ten years, and not once did she ever join me for our family's Independence Day cookout. This year, on the night before the celebration, I finally gathered the courage to ask if she wanted to come. She scoffed and said, "What are you, stuck in the past? Who even celebrates the Fourth with a family dinner anymore?" Yet that very evening, I saw a social media post of Natasha with her male best friend, Stanley Rogers. They were quite intimate in the picture, and the caption read: [True happiness is celebrating Independence Day with your bestie!] I commented back: [Hope you two lovebirds make it official soon.] Stanley did not hold back. He messaged me a bunch of intimate photos of the two of them. Then, he added, [You're just a leech living off his wife. What right do you have to question anything about Nattie?] Everyone always thought I was a gold-digger living off Natasha's success. However, they all forgot that I was the sole major shareholder of the company. This time, I’m done staying silent.

After our daughter's death, my husband Josh Graham insisted that I play a game of confessions with May Lowe, his former flame. The first to confess was Mrs. Garcia, the maid I paid generously, who confessed that her negligence led to my daughter's burning fever. Before I could say a word, May was smiling magnanimously. "It's alright. Everyone makes mistakes—it's fine as long as no lasting harm has been done." And with that, she extended forgiveness in my stead. The second to confess was Josh himself. "I really regret snapping at Nana the day she died because I was stressed from work, and for not hugging her before I left the house." May shook her head with a tender smile. "As a breadwinner, it's impossible for you to balance work and family at the same time. And Nana loves you really much, so she'd definitely forgive her daddy." The third to confess was May herself, and she nestled in Josh's arms with a mournful gaze. "I have the most to atone for—I was overconfident in my professional diagnosis and injected her with too much sedative, stopping her heart." Then, turning toward me dolefully, she asked, "You'd forgive me right, Holly?" I smiled, pulling out the phone which was livestreaming the whole farce out of my pocket. Who cared about forgiveness? The game of judgment had begun!

The night I planned to tell him who I really was—under the full moon—my boyfriend of three years, Logan, walked up to me with another woman on his arm. He looked down at me and said: "Seraphina. I've been formally appointed the new Alpha of the Greywolf Pack. Only an elder's daughter is fit to be my Luna. A pack-doctor with blood as thin as yours can crawl back to the slums and patch up Omegas where you belong." But I was the highest-born princess of the Werewolf Royal Pack. So tell me—shouldn't I just have my brother, the Werewolf King, strip the Alpha title off this man and exile him to the Frostlands to keep company with the rogues?

The day my mother, Dahlia Moone, gives birth to my younger brother, she goes into obstructed labor and suffers a catastrophic hemorrhage. My CEO father, Graham Kovane, orders every doctor and nurse out of the delivery room because his mistress, Selena Langford, says, "Her crying is giving me a headache." That day, both Mom and my unborn brother die. Not long after, I'm framed for a mistake I never made, driven out of the family, and left to survive on the streets. Living on the kindness of strangers, I fight my way up from nothing. Step by step, I rise until I become the head of Rockstone Tech, controlling a fortune worth billions. On the day of the annual evaluation for promoting interns to full-time employees, five candidate files are placed on my desk. My assistant, Ingrid Nelson, taps the file at the top of the stack, her voice full of admiration. "Ms. Campbell, Monica Kovane is exceptionally capable. Her performance has earned full marks from every department manager." I open Monica's profile, and my eyes stop on the family information section. Even in the worst of times, I will never forget those two names on the paper. After a long silence, I tell Ingrid to bring all five interns into my office. The employment contracts are handed out one by one. When only the last person remains, I look up and meet her confident gaze. She's almost certain the position is already hers. Calmly, I slide a termination letter across the desk. "Unfortunately, Ms. Kovane, you didn't pass."

I'd been "married" to Zachary for two years—until I tried applying for a loan and the bank's system flagged someone else as his legal wife. Our wedding? Just a private show. The real marriage license had his name next to hers. So yeah. I wasn't the wife. I was the other woman. Crushed, I went home—only to hear Zachary talking to his friend, Ethan, by the door. "Man, watching you stress is exhausting," Ethan said. "You clearly love Sierra. So why marry Cathryn?" Zachary looked torn. "At first, she was just a stand-in. But when she left, I couldn't stop thinking about her. So I brought her back—as my assistant." He paused, then muttered, "I can't live without Sierra. But I can't let go of Cathryn either. So I gave Sierra my love in public and kept Cathryn hidden with the title. That's fair, right?" I stood frozen, heart splitting open. He loved us both. Me—his childhood sweetheart. Her—the hidden wife. I thought I was the one. Turns out, I was just the game. He didn't break my heart. He shattered my whole world. But I didn't cry. I didn't scream. I walked away. And started planning two things.

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.

On my 28th birthday, I announced that I was pregnant. But my husband told everyone that he was sterile. Together with my best friend, they said that this was proof that I cheated on him. I tried defending myself, but in the end, I, along with my baby, died while burning with hate. When I reopened my eyes, I returned to the moment three hours before my death.

My father, Benjamin Ward, was bedridden, paralyzed, and unable to move. The AI model he spent his entire life developing—a model powerful enough to cure terminal diseases—had been stolen and published under someone else's name. Humiliated beyond endurance, he suffered a stroke and collapsed. He couldn't speak. He couldn't even write. I swore I'd find the thief who destroyed him. My girlfriend, Maris Dawn, wept and promised to help me uncover the truth. But at a dinner party, when her first love proudly announced that he'd been specially recruited by a national research lab thanks to that very model, she immediately grabbed my arm, whispering, "Don't make a scene. Grayson just wants a good future. Don't ruin his life." Grayson Vale smirked with disdain. "The old man was about to retire anyway. Think of it as recycling waste." My vision went red. I charged at him, ready to make him pay for what he'd done to my father. Maris tripped me before I could reach him. She threw a check for ten million in my face. "Here's for your dad's medical care. Don't be shameless, alright? Grayson is a rising star. You're just a broke grad student. You should learn your place." I tore the check apart, piece by piece. That check could never buy the Dawn family a future in the world of science.

When I was eight months pregnant, my Beta mate Derek's mistress offended the Alpha and was sentenced to three months in silver prison. Derek wanted me to serve her time. I stared at him in disbelief. "I'm carrying our child. How can I go to prison? What if something happens to the baby—" He roughly cut me off. "It's just three months, isn't it? Your wolf is so strong, but Sophia is just an Omega. Could you really bear to watch her die?" He forcibly threw me into prison to take punishment for his precious Sophia, where I was whipped with silver chains. Through this ordeal, my wolf nearly died. That day, I had a lot of bleeding during childbirth and almost went into shock. Meanwhile, the photos of him in bed with his mistress spread all over the pack. When Derek’s brother Ethan, who had a crush on me for many years, rushed to the hospital, my voice was eerily calm. "You are right. Derek is not worthy of being my mate. You promised me that once I gave birth to the child, you would help me leave. I want to break my mate bond with Derek."

In my last life, while my father lay on his deathbed, he asked me to choose—inherit his title and become the Don of Vale, or marry my boyfriend, Julian Moreau, and walk away from the family business for good. Becoming the Don meant a lifetime of danger, and likely a political marriage without love. Marrying Julian promised peace. I hesitated. Next morning after the party, I woke up in bed with Julian on my left and my best friend, Sebastian, on my right. I soon found out I was pregnant. With that, I thought the better choice would be marry either Julian or Sebastian—and to give up my right to inherit, handing it to my stepsister. After my father’s funeral, Julian, Vivienne, and Sebastian locked me away and tortured me for days—until my baby and I finally met a tragic end. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the very day my father asked that question. This time, I didn’t hesitate. “I’ll break up with Julian and become the Don of Vale—on my own.”

The hospital's latest intern, Lindsey Clark, is very pretty, but she's a total idiot as well. When my mom came to the hospital for a prescription, she swapped the vitamin C for potassium supplements, which were known to be very poisonous if misused. Mom, who was fresh out of surgery, suffered from heavy bleeding right after taking the medication. She died on the same night. Before I could hold Lindsey responsible for Mom's death, the latter quickly piped up with teary eyes, "I'm so sorry, Dr. Monroe! I just thought that potassium supplements can help your mother heal faster…" Even Michael Jones, my husband, who was the hospital director, took her side. "Your mom only had her idiocy to blame! She died because she took the wrong medication! How dare you drag Lindsey into this!" I was so furious that my cardiac arrest was triggered on the spot. Soon, I was sent into the operating room. Lindsey said she wanted to redeem herself by taking on the post as Michael's assistant in the surgery. But her hands kept trembling even when she tried to thread the suture needle. In the end, she took off her mask and picked up the suture with her teeth. Just like that, she used her saliva to wet the suture end. One day later, I died in the ICU due to a case of severe infection. When my spirit was about to fade away, I heard Lindsey crying sadly. "If it wasn't for my idiocy, Dr. Monroe wouldn't have died!" Michael just patted her dotingly on the head in return. "Having medical risks in a surgical operation is completely normal. You're still young, so stop blaming yourself already." Mom and I were cremated instantly, seeing as Michael intended to cover up our deaths. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Lindsey has just gotten recruited by the hospital.

When I got off the plane, a notification popped up on my phone. It was an announcement of my wife's wedding to her lover on social media. I rushed to the company, but I was stopped by the HR director at the elevator. "You are fired. Our company doesn't need freeloaders like you." I was utterly confused. Wasn't this my own company? "Is this a direct order from Claire Luna?" I inquired. "Haha, you are just a nobody in the company. Why would our president Ms. Luna bother with you?" "This is Mr. White's order!" I laughed in disbelief. Since when did Evan White speak for my wife? "Where are they?" I asked the HR director. "They are finally having their wedding on the top floor of the banquet hall. You need to leave now as the top floor is only accessible to the executives." Upon hearing that, I pushed the HR director away. I immediately pulled out my identification card and tapped it on the access scanner. "Beep. Highest authorization confirmed. Welcome back."

At my wedding to a billionaire heir, Malcom Blair, I leaned down and kissed a filthy, ragged man begging by the entrance, right there in front of everyone. While the guests were still too stunned to react, I grabbed Christine Wagner, Malcom's cousin and my maid of honor, by the hair and slapped her across the face three dozen times in a row. Everyone thought I had lost my mind and tried to have me locked in a psychiatric hospital. Inside, I spent the whole night popping champagne and celebrating. In my last life, not long after the wedding, Christine, a pediatric nurse, set fire to a children's hospital. Many kids died on the spot. The police and the victims' families surrounded my house, screaming that I was the arsonist. I stood there, completely confused, while Malcom pulled out surveillance footage and pointed the finger at me. "You used to complain all the time that taking care of sick kids was worse than dealing with a dog, that it'd be better if they just died and got it over with. I never thought you'd actually be this cruel!" The families lost control. They doused me in gasoline and burned me alive…

At the annual company raffle, I had barely stepped onto the stage when my supervisor, Lily Smith, pressed a crumpled slip of paper into my palm. "A special reward for our top salesperson," she chirped. "Go ahead, open it. Let everyone see." Under the eager gaze of the crowd, I unfolded the note. Written in messy handwriting were the words: Clean the company toilets for three days. The room erupted in laughter. Lily folded her arms, cocked her head, and smirked at me. "Nice, right?" she said. "Everyone knows those sales of yours came from sleeping with old men. Dirty money. To keep things fair, the others get a break, and you pick up a little extra work. You don't have a problem with that, do you?" The laughter surged again, nearly lifting the roof. From the side of the room, my boyfriend, Seth Hoffman, the company's CEO, watched everything unfold. As usual, he said nothing in my defense. They all thought I would fall apart, cry, or make a scene. Instead, I simply gave a calm nod. The very next day, the company was hit with over three hundred property cancellations. Its cash flow collapsed overnight. That was when Lily and Seth rushed to me, demanding I go plead with the buyers. I smiled and said, "No thanks. I wouldn't want to help the company recover and end up with strong numbers again. That might make everyone even more uncomfortable."