Historias cortas de Plot Twists Rebirth y novelas con Bias

My wife's childhood friend, a gambling addict she had known since childhood, returned to Dryana. To help him pay off his debts, she stole and sold my medical patent. Before it happened, I confronted her. I tried to stop her. I even threatened to call the police. Amanda Carroll looked at me as if I had disappointed her beyond repair. "Enough, Cedric Lunsford. You're a grown man. Can you stop nitpicking over every little thing? "Don isn't like you. He's in trouble right now. You make that much money. What's wrong with giving him a little? I'm already your wife. Are you seriously going to tell me where my heart is allowed to be?" I gathered the evidence and headed to the police station. Halfway there, my brakes failed. The car slammed into the guardrail. Metal crumpled and glass shattered. I was pinned in the driver's seat, drenched in blood, forcing out my last breath as I called for help. Amanda's voice on the line was flat, almost bored. "Stop yelling. Don can't stand bloody scenes. Don't make him sick. Your insurance payout is enough for him to start over. Consider it the last duty you perform as a husband." At that moment, I understood. Even at the end, she chose his gambling debt. She chose murder and an insurance payout. The vehicle exploded. Nothing remained of me. Then I opened my eyes again. I was back on the day her "childhood sweetheart" returned. This time, I did not stop her from going to the airport. I picked up my phone and called my senior overseas. "I'll sell you the patent. And the position you mentioned, I'm in. See you in three days."

After my hundredth disastrous blind date, my best friend and I made a bold decision: we would have children without husbands. She chose sperm from a brilliant PhD donor. I chose a donor with an eight-nation mixed heritage. Later, the PhD donor from Kingsford University was diagnosed with low sperm motility and decided he wanted to marry my friend, Melissa Shaw. She agreed. Whenever she saw me going to my prenatal checkups alone, Melissa would wrap her arm around her husband and mock me. "You're destined to be alone," she sneered. "You can't even find a man to marry you. My husband just launched a major national research project. His future is limitless." What she did not know was that the father of my child was the Prince of Dubaria. He took me back to his country and made me his princess. The jewels I wore were so heavy they practically weighed me down. However, after she saw the yacht I posted on social media, Melissa suddenly called me in tears. "I don't know what happened," she sobbed. "My husband's project was suddenly suspended. We can barely afford baby formula for our child." She said she wanted to make up and even asked if I would be her child’s godmother. However, the moment I stepped through her door, she raised a chainsaw and hacked me to death. "Why do you get to live a better life than me?" she screamed. "Just because you chose better sperm?!" When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my best friend and I first decided to have children without husbands.

Grandpa Arthur Bennett was taken to court after being accused of using violence and coercion to commit rape. Yet I lounged at home, idly scrolling on my phone while watching a livestream. In my previous life, determined to uncover the truth, I had volunteered to serve as the plaintiff’s lawyer and investigated the case in depth. I had even contacted my brother, Ethan Bennett, praised as a genius lawyer, and urged him to defend Grandpa. But he believed the story I told was absurd—a lie meant to stop him, my best friend, and my mom from going on their trip to Moonlake together—and he blocked all my contact information. In the end, Grandpa was sentenced to life in prison and suffered a fatal heart attack in the courtroom. My family believed I had deliberately helped the plaintiff and disregarded my own kin. They blamed Grandpa’s conviction and death on me. When my Mom returned and saw Grandpa’s body, she collapsed in grief. Overcome with emotion, she got into her car and drove it straight into me, killing me. When I awoke with a start, I realized I had returned to three hours before Grandpa was taken to court.

My sister, Flora Leeman, and I went on a blind date at the same time. She chose Samuel Garrett, a soldier who defended the country, while I chose Logan Zigger, a farmer. However, shortly after Flora got married, Samuel was killed in the line of duty. Meanwhile, Logan became a livestock tycoon and bought a car and a house. Flora was widowed for two years and then got caught cheating. She was kicked out by her mother-in-law. When I was giving birth, she came to visit. While I was not paying attention, she used a pair of scissors to kill me. Flora said viciously, "Why should an adopted daughter like you be living a better life than me?" When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the time of the blind date. This time, Flora insisted on marrying Logan, so I knew she had been reborn as well. I chuckled to myself. With her jumping into the Zigger family hellhole, I could marry into the Garrett family and enjoy a good life!

An accident occurred during my graduation trip, causing me to get my left leg amputated. Surprisingly enough, Britney Lambert, the campus belle whom I had a crush on, proposed to me afterward. We were married for the next 30 years. Throughout our marriage, we respected and concerned each other properly. Before I passed away, I found out that all 199 love letters that I had written were thrown into the trash pile. Meanwhile, Britney kept the love letters another person had sent her in a safe. Obviously, she treated those letters like her most cherished treasure. When my illness took a turn for the worse, I could only lie on my sickbed with one foot in my grave. Britney arrived at my ward later than usual. Before I closed my eyes, I heard the final words she uttered to me. "Next time, don't save me anymore." I finally understood her real feelings for me. She'd rather die than be with me, it seemed. When I wake up again, I've returned to the timeframe before the graduation trip starts. This time, I decide not to have anything to do with Britney. We shall be strangers in this lifetime. But when the accident occurs once again, Britney is the one rushing toward me. "It's my turn to save you now."

My boyfriend, Sam Gibson, had a childhood best friend named Tina Lincoln. She was a star medical student. On the day Sam and I were supposed to get our marriage license, Tina took one look at the tight top I was wearing and flat-out claimed I had been sleeping around for years. She pointed at my chest with obvious disgust. “If men hadn’t been all over you, there’s no way your breasts would be this big.” Sam believed her completely. He started cursing at me, calling me a slut who had sleep with anyone, and refused to go through with the marriage license. I tried over and over to explain, but Tina just sneered at me. “People may be more open-minded these days, but that doesn’t mean you can sell your body and make your chest that big.” She used me as some kind of “example,” started a livestream to lecture people online, and exposed all my personal information. After that, strangers kept sending me disgusting, harassing messages, asking how much I charged for a night. Some even followed me and tried to force themselves on me. I begged her to clear things up for me, but she just shrugged and said, “If you never did that kind of thing, why would people be asking you?” In the end, I was assaulted and killed. And she went on to become a nationally famous influencer doctor, gaining fame and money at the same time. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I was supposed to get my marriage license with Sam.

After winning 800 thousand dollars, the first thing I did was rush to the hospital to pay for my daughter's surgery and treatment. Then, out of nowhere, a colleague called. "There's an extremely urgent situation at the company. You need to come back and handle it right now!" My husband took the bank card from my hand and, with thoughtful understanding, said, "Tell me the PIN. I'll go pay for Alicia's surgery. You head back to the company and focus on work." In my past life, I trusted him without hesitation and hurried back to the office. Before my daughter could even make it into surgery, I received a police summons instead. It turned out my husband had conspired with my colleague to file a report against me, pinning the crime of embezzling company funds—money my colleague had actually stolen—on me. With no money for treatment, my daughter died in the hospital. My parents, shattered by grief, suffered heart attacks and passed away. I ended my own life in prison, consumed by bitterness and regret. After death, my soul drifted to where my husband was vacationing abroad. I heard him say to my colleague with my own ears, "That stupid woman wins such a huge jackpot and only knows how to waste it on that worthless daughter's medical bills, dragging me into a life of hardship! "Now their whole family's deaths have bought us endless wealth and luxury. Consider it that idiot woman's compensation to me. Hahaha!" When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the very moment my husband took the bank card from my hand. This time, I still told him the transfer PIN.

After I get reborn, I've orchestrated every missed moment with my biological parents. When they want to take my adopted sister, Simone Graham, to take a family portrait, I'll take cold showers so that I can catch a fever. When they decide to book a cruise ship overseas in order to celebrate Simone's birthday, I join a classified project, which stops me from leaving the country. When they start a company for Simone, I quickly apply to get dispatched to South City, which is 600 miles away from my hometown. I also make sure to declare that I will never fight with Simone over anything in life. In my previous lifetime, Simone and I had been fighting over our parents' affection for decades. But all I got were comments on how manipulative and cunning I was. Everyone preferred Simone, who was pure and innocent, while showing disdain toward me, who was a woman of little words. Even my own husband and child couldn't understand my pain at all. "We're all family here, aren't we? Can't you just stop your dramatics for a few days? Whenever I come home, you always start a fight and cause unrest among everyone! You really should reflect on your own actions!" Just like that, I died on my sickbed all alone. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day I get accepted back into my family. This time, I'm not going to fight anymore. I'm going to live for myself instead.

A Category 5 hurricane will be tearing through the nation tomorrow. The state I live in has officially gone into lockdown in all five sectors involving work, production, business, classes, and transport. But Isabel Stafford, the actual heiress of the Staffords who had just rejoined the family, left an order in the company's group chat. "Tomorrow, everyone in this company must clock in for work! Those who miss out on work will have three times their salaries deducted!" I thought it was rather inappropriate for the order to take effect. So, I messaged her privately that everyone's lives were at stake here, not to mention it was a reportable offense for one to go against the national order of the lockdown. But not only did Isabel ignore me, she also continued texting in the group chat. "We're paying you just to work! Everyone needs to be present in order to protect the important documents and maintain the expensive equipment! You should know that the more you work at times like this, the more the company can see your actual value!" The colleagues dared not refute Isabel at all. But I was really worried that an accident might happen, so I spent the night calling everyone to get them not to go to work. When Isabel found out about my efforts, she went to the company out of anger the next day. The typhoon smashed the company's glass walls that day, resulting in Isabel getting thrown out of the 16th floor. By the time her body was found, she was already dead. My parents and my fiance, Shane Cross, didn't say anything about Isabel's death. But they had me hung from a helicopter on my and Shane's wedding day. "If it wasn't for you stopping the employees from going to the company that day, Isabel wouldn't have died!" "There were so many of them! If they were willing to grab her, she'd be fine!" "You're just jealous that we found our actual daughter! That's why you killed her on purpose!" I begged Shane to save me, but he just gazed at me coldly. "I told you countless times that I'd still marry you even though Isabel is back! But why did you refuse to let her go? "I'll make you feel the pain Isabel has felt when she got thrown into the sky by the Category 5 hurricane!" When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Isabel is goading the employees to show up at the company for work. This time, it's my turn to send everyone to hell.

At 3:00 p.m., Rose Jenkins, the new hire who had barely been here a few days, suddenly tagged me in the company group chat with a few hundred people in it. [Hi, can you stop hammering your keyboard? The noise is making my stomach hurt! The baby I'm carrying is sleeping. If you shake it into a concussion, I swear I'll make your whole family pay for it!] I rushed to explain. I was racing to finish a proposal that was due soon, and I was using a silent keyboard. But she wouldn't believe me, no matter what I said. I kept my patience and explained it over and over. To avoid any more trouble, I even asked if I could move out to the hallway to work. What I didn't expect was that a week later, she would storm into the break room with a kettle of freshly boiled water and dump it straight over my head. I collapsed in a pool of scalding water, my skin blistering and tearing open. She kept screaming as if she had lost her mind and smashed my head with her high heels, over and over. "It's all your fault! I lost the baby! Your keyboard noise shook my son to death!!" My vision blurred. By the time everything went black, I still couldn't understand how a silent keyboard could possibly kill someone. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day she first went off on me in the group chat. This time, faced with the same insults, I didn't back down. I went straight into the chat and fired back. [Stop pretending you're pregnant. You've got more going on down there than your dad does!]

On the day the SAT results are revealed, the fake heiress, Layla Sanders, colluded with our homeroom teacher, Richard Hoffman, to report me for cheating during the exam. When I stared at both copies of the exam papers that showed the same steps and formulas, I couldn't defend myself at all. In order to preserve Layla's pride, my own parents actually forced me to admit to stealing the exam questions in advance. Then, they had me forcibly admitted into a mental asylum. The Sanders family claimed that I had gone crazy just so they could keep this particular skeleton sealed in the closet. They abandoned me, letting me be tormented endlessly in the asylum. When I finally escaped from the asylum, I died in a car crash that was meticulously staged by Layla. Only on the verge of my death did I finally realize that the so-called "blood is thicker than water" mentality was nothing compared to a tear shed by Layla. The moment I open my eyes again, I've gotten reborn in the exam hall. This time, I choose to submit my exam paper without anything scribbled on it. I'd like to see just how someone with a total of zero points can possibly copy off the so-called top scorer of SAT.

I died giving birth. I gave George Norris ten children in seven years and died with my last child during childbirth. Everyone said I was unlucky, but no one knew that I saw the comments on the screen as I was dying. [The cannon fodder is pretty pitiful. Now the female lead gets ten healthy babies for free.] [The female lead is so clever. She likes children but doesn't want to give birth to any for the male lead, so she added fertility pills in the cannon fodder's food.] [Tsk, tsk, tsk, the cannon fodder probably won't even know she gave birth to the male lead and female lead's children.] The comments made me so angry that I dropped dead right then and there. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back, right after I had married George. [Tsk, the female lead is so ruthless; she added three fertility pills to the chicken soup.] [Is the female lead not afraid that the cannon fodder will give birth to triplets and die on the operating table?] Watching the chicken soup Cheryl York handed me, I grinned, grabbed her mouth, and poured the soup down her throat. If she liked having children so much, she could have as many as she wanted!

Within the circle, everyone knew I had been Leo’s most devoted, submissive admirer. For thirteen years, I chased him relentlessly, transforming myself from an uneducated, middle-school-dropout, illegitimate child of a wealthy family into an Ivy League economics master’s graduate. Only then did his mother finally acknowledge me, and I became Mrs. Smith. However, after the wedding, I no longer meddled in Leo’s company, cooked, or served him. While he stayed up late planning strategies for his first love, I traveled the world with friends. He would accompany her to Paris fashion shows, and I celebrated my cat’s birthday at home. I understood that a commercial marriage could never produce love. Everything I had poured my heart into was just my own foolish obsession. In my past life, I handled his company’s internal conflicts for him. Yet, he frowned, scolding, “You’re reaching too far.” I cooked soups for his stomach ailments, only to see him hand them off to his overworked first love, brushing it off, “She works harder than I do.” Even on the day I had a car accident, he lit fireworks across the city just to see her smile. I begged him, but he looked down at me from above. “Nicole, what we have is only a transaction.” Then, I opened my eyes and found myself back at our engagement banquet, watching him leave midway to comfort his heartbroken first love. This time, I did not chase after him. Instead, I picked up the microphone and said before all the guests. “Sorry, everyone. My engagement with Leo is canceled.”

Liam Dunlap, my girlfriend's junior apprentice, bragged that he could defuse a bomb with one hand. Then he slipped. The timer began to race. Terrified, he dropped his tools and ran. I stepped in at great risk and saved the hostage. For that, I was commended. Liam, on the other hand, was condemned across the internet and faced severe disciplinary action. My girlfriend tried to speak up for him, but I stopped her. "If you defend him now, not only will your promotion be revoked—people online will come after you too." Later, unable to bear the pressure, Liam jumped to his death. Every line of his suicide note blamed my girlfriend for not standing by him. She said nothing. She simply burned the letter in silence. After that, she rose step by step from a frontline officer to a model figure in the police force. On the day I was kidnapped by criminals, she came in person to defuse the bomb strapped to me—using only one hand. She looked coldly at the device on my chest and said, "See? It can be done with one hand. Why did you all have to drive Liam to his death back then? If I had protected him at the time, the one in my position today… should have been him." The bomb detonated. I died on the spot. After I opened my eyes again, I saw her running around desperately for Liam. She didn't know—the hostage was the mayor's son.

In my previous life, after I got divorced from Serena Langston, the court had given me custody of my newborn daughter, Talia Poole. Meanwhile, my son, Lucas Poole, was to live with Serena. Many years later, Talia got into a top prestigious university. I had raised her to be a humble and polite young lady. On the day the SAT scores were released, the mass media fought with each other just to get an inclusive interview on how I raised and parented Talia. Meanwhile, Lucas had already dropped out of school when he was still a junior at high school. After that, he eloped with a delinquent, only to impregnate her before he even hit 16 of age. Just like that, he was treated as the living educational material of what a teenager shouldn't become when they grew up. At the age of 30, he was still mooching off Serena without an achievement or a job under his belt. Serena's dream of watching Lucas succeed in life was completely shattered. In fact, she was utterly humiliated by his existence. On the day Talia's celebratory banquet was held, Serena showed up and picked a fight with me. She insisted that I had given Lucas all of our bad DNA, which resulted in him being a massive failure in life. During the fight, Serena stabbed me in the chest. Then, she jumped off the building and died. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day the court will be giving us custody over our children. This time, Serena quickly requests the judge for Talia's custody. I can tell right away that she's been reborn as well.

I had been married to my husband for 27 years, but the love between us had faded long ago. Even our children could see it, and they were the ones who tried to persuade me to get a divorce. "Mom, you and Dad are still young. You still have time to pursue your own life." "Yeah, Mom. You shouldn't force yourself to live like this anymore. We'd support you if you got divorced." With their encouragement, my husband and I finally ended our marriage. My daughter even helped introduce me to someone new. Not long after the divorce, I began a new relationship. But just as I was preparing to remarry, my ex-husband suddenly sued me. He accused me of cheating during our marriage. My own children appeared in court and testified against me. They confirmed his accusations. No matter how hard I tried to explain, no one believed me. In the end, I walked away from the divorce with nothing. My new boyfriend and I were dragged through the mud online. [You shameless old woman. One foot in the grave and you're still chasing another man!] [At your age, you’re still getting divorced? Hope you and your little side piece stay together.] A few self-righteous, extremist internet vigilantes broke into my home. They tied my boyfriend and me to a bed, poured gasoline over us, and set us on fire. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day my children first tried to convince me to get a divorce.

"This year, there's only one spot available–and I fought hard to secure it for you. "If things don't work out with Baron Cole, I'll talk to him. You two have a strong relationship. Waiting a few years won't matter." As I stared at the application form my professor handed me, my hands would not stop trembling. In my previous life, I spent forty years married to Baron. We raised a son and a daughter. I thought that was what a complete, fulfilled life looked like. However, after he died, while sorting through his belongings, I found a box filled with letters and photographs. That was when I learned the truth–he had always loved someone else. She was his first love… and the biological daughter of the family that raised me. Back in 1984, he hid my study-abroad application, giving the opportunity to her instead. From that moment on, I became a housewife. And he devoted himself to helping the woman he loved rise–until she returned from overseas as a celebrated professor. Even my own son later turned their story into a drama, glorifying their restrained, enduring love. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day I first received that application form. This time, I did not hesitate. "Professor, I'm going abroad."

After being sent back in time, Emma Horten did two things. The first thing she did was abandon her ungrateful husband and son; the second thing she did was set out to rebuild her career.

I won $30 million in the lottery. I quietly told my mom, Helena Nightfall, and urged her to divorce my abusive, gambling-addicted dad, Victor Nightfall. From then on, I would take care of her and give her a life of luxury. She agreed without hesitation, then turned around and told him everything. Dad came to my door and demanded the money. When I refused, he beat me mercilessly. In the end, it was my lovesick mother who searched my room, found my debit card, and took every cent I had. Dad squandered my money on a life of excess. Not only did he kick Mom to the curb and find himself a new woman, but he even handed out my winnings generously to relatives back in our hometown. They lived it up on my money while I—the one who had won the lottery—didn’t receive a single cent. Unwilling to accept it, I went to confront Dad and demand my money back. By sheer coincidence, I ran into debt collectors who were after Dad. Dad shoved me out the door and left me to be stabbed to death by his creditors. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment I first discovered I had won the lottery.

The day before the spacecraft launch, I am anonymously reported for concealing a mental illness and lose my qualification to board. After being confined in a psychiatric hospital for three years, my husband, Simon Bergman, who is now a decorated figure in the aerospace field, personally brings me home. "I had no choice but to send you there. I even applied to be demoted just to bring you back. Let's just live our lives well from now on," Simon says. Burdened by guilt for affecting his career, I spend the rest of my life carefully taking care of him and busying myself in the kitchen as a dutiful wife. But before I die, my daughter finds the letter accusing me of having a mental condition—it is written in my husband's own hand. She also discovers decades of correspondence between him and a deceased war buddy's widow named Charmaine Marlowe. In those letters, he writes that to fulfill his buddy's dying wish to take care of Charmaine, he fabricates a false mental illness record and inserts it into my astronaut application. As a result, I was sent to the psychiatric hospital, and my position was taken by her. The glass shatters, and the sharp fragments pierce me, like they are stabbing into my heart. I was supposed to be the one to go to space. But my husband sacrificed my chance so that another woman could have it! I die in despair. When I open my eyes again, I am back on the day of the astronaut selection for the manned spacecraft launch. This time, when Simon offers to help submit my application, I refuse to let him.