Contos e Romances sobre Plot Twists com Redemption

I've placed a no-limit bid just so I can buy Eloise Kane, the best underground boxer, from an underground boxing ring. Without even sparing me a proper glance, she's already naming her conditions with a sneer on her face. Apparently, she wants a deluxe apartment that's located in the heart of the city, a monthly allowance of ten million dollars, and most importantly, I mustn't interfere with her social circle. Everyone thinks I've gone nuts for buying myself a mistress just so I can cater to her whims and needs. But I don't mind at all. I just point at her left chest and tell her, "Just maintain a regular lifestyle. Don't let anything happen to your heart." I even go so far as to offend the heiress of the most prominent family in the elite society in order to defend Eloise. That is, until I heard Eloise gets stabbed for her jealous antics in a bar. By the time I arrive at the private room, I see her embracing a male escort while laughing at the top of her lungs. "Oh, I'm the one who hired someone to hit his sister with a car! It's best if she dies, though! That way, his assets will be mine! "Besides, he's just an idiot whose only purpose is to give me money! Who does he think he is, anyway?" Amid the eerie silence, I snatch up a wine bottle and smash it into Eloise's head. Then, I slam her head into the pile of blood-stained glass shards. After that, I dial the hospital's number. "Her heart is in top shape, and it's a perfect match. Tonight, you can wheel my sister into the emergency room. Time to prep for the heart transplant surgery."

I was born into the Valerie family, with the noble blood that could give a vampire a powerful hybrid heir. I was meant to marry Ethan, heir to the Prince. But the night before the engagement, his younger brother Adrian knelt in the rain in front of me. “Elena, I’d give up everything.” “I love you. You’re all I want.” So I broke the engagement, let my family disown me, and married him without a backward glance. Then I got pregnant. He started keeping me at arm’s length, finding reasons not to touch me, not even willing to stay in the same room as me. Until the night I heard him tell his men: “Once Elena has the baby, we’ll hand it over to Ethan and Sophia.” “Sophia’s health is fragile. I can’t bear to put her through a pregnancy.” That was when I finally understood. Adrian had never loved me. He’d married me only to free up the place beside Ethan for my cousin Sophia. Even the child I’d struggled so hard to carry had already been promised away to the woman he truly loved. I rested a hand on my belly and called my father. “Dad, I was wrong about him.” Adrian thought I’d stay trapped in his web of lies forever. He had no idea. Two months from now, I would vanish from his world for good.

Back when I was young and dumb, I slapped some college guy working a side gig at a nightclub. My boyfriend had just ditched me for my best friend, Vanessa Shannon. Then, not even five minutes later, I caught her in the corner, sliding her hand under another guy's shirt. He bit his lip and just took it. Something in my brain short-circuited. I stood up and walked over. If Vanessa wanted him, why couldn't I? But the second I reached for him, he smacked my hand away. Vanessa cracked up. The whole private room turned to watch. Mortified, I slapped him. "You work at a place like this. Don't play innocent." Later, my family went broke, and I ended up working at a nightclub just to get by. The private room was loud as hell. I lost a game, and everyone at the table started chanting for me to take my bra off. My face went hot. I stood there, completely frozen. Then a low voice cut through the noise with a cold laugh. "You work at a place like this. Don't play innocent." I looked up. Our eyes locked. His stare was icy, full of pure mockery. It was the college guy I'd slapped years ago.

To pay off my family's debt, I was forced to marry a comatose mafia heir. The city's elite were all waiting to see me become a young widow. On our wedding night, I used a damp towel to wipe down the still form on the bed. Suddenly, a lazy chuckle met my ear. "Enjoying the view?" I snapped my head up. A translucent man leaned casually against the nightstand, his long legs crossed, a smirk on his lips as he watched me with amusement. He nodded toward the "corpse" on the bed and raised an eyebrow. "Don't waste your energy. I can't feel the cold. How about we make a deal? You help me deal with the traitors in my family." I stared at his ghostly form, then calmly wrung out the towel into the basin. "Deal. But I want half the Volpe family fortune."

After getting tormented by electrical shocks for five years, I've contracted severe brain atrophy. Once the psychiatric hospital kicks me out, I rely on the posts that are recorded in my old Facebook account in order to survive. Rosalie Vaughn, my childhood friend and former girlfriend who has sworn to torture me till I die, takes her rich fiance, Sebastian Crowe, back to the old, rundown complex. The moment she sees me curling up on the moldy couch while clutching my phone tightly, she lets out a scoff. "Oh? Now that you've escaped from the hospital, are you still waiting for some rich woman's text? Weren't you very quick and decisive when you stole my life-saving money back then? Why are you still pretending to be some devoted man?" As soon as Rosalie's voice falls, she snatches my phone from my hands. After keying in the wrong password three times in a row, she chooses to recover my password. The moment she sees the security question, her mocking expression freezes momentarily. The question shows, "Who's the only one I've loved in this life?" I blink hazily, my eyes cloudy and dull. Then, I tug at Rosalie's sleeve. "Miss, do you know who she is? I remember I used to love someone with all my heart, but I think she locked me up in a psychiatric hospital." After that, I turn around and try to scavenge the trash can for a piece of expired bread just so I can offer it to the "nice lady".

After Mom stabbed Aunt Serena and was sent to prison, Aunt Serena became our new mother. The same Serena who used to “wrestle” with Dad in bed every afternoon at three o’clock. Everyone praised her for being kind and virtuous. They said she treated her husband’s children from his first marriage as if they were her own. She was practically the perfect stepmother. I believed them too. So when she told me there was a way to get to heaven and see Mom again, I believed her. I even carried along the baby brother she had just given birth to. And together, we followed her lie all the way to heaven.

I was born with something broken inside me. I was also the biological son of the wealthiest family in the country. When I was fourteen, the Hayes family finally brought me home. By then, I had already come up with over a hundred ways to get rid of Nathan Hayes—the fake heir who had taken my place. But he turned out to be the only person in the entire Hayes family who truly cared about me. The only one who ever protected me. He used to say he was a knight, and I was a fallen prince. And a knight's duty was to protect his prince. I laughed at him for being naive. For being kind in the most impractical way possible. Yet he still helped me take control of the Hayes family. He helped me become the head of the most powerful conglomerate in the country. He even helped me find true love. Then he stood by and watched me find happiness. When his mission was finally complete, Nathan could have left after changing my fate. But he chose to stay. Instead, he married a woman who promised to love him for the rest of his life. Then, after another business trip overseas, I came home to the news of his death. I rushed back as fast as I could. But by the time I arrived, all that remained was his broken body. My brother was dead. And I lost my mind. I knew then that the darkness inside me no longer needed to stay hidden. Everyone who had hurt him would be buried alongside him.

I understood babies. The baby in Room 403 cried out, "My butt itches! It is not a stomachache!" A newborn in the ER screamed, "Something is stuck under my belly button!" A preemie babbled softly, "I want my mommy..." None of that prepared me for that day. Dr. Margot Aldrich, the country's foremost authority in pediatrics, stood before a packed auditorium and examined a baby who had screamed himself purple. "We will keep observing." The mother fell to her knees. "Please, my baby is dying..." Margot let out a short laugh. "Am I the expert here, or are you?" The room went silent. In my ears, a tiny voice raged. "Are you grown-ups blind? Something is stuck under my belly button! It is not a stomachache! Somebody cut me open already!" I did not stop to think. I pushed through the crowd, dropped beside the crib, and looked Margot in the eye. "Dr. Aldrich, let me try."

My sister Brenda fell in love with Don Joseph Genovese because he saved her life once. She thought a man that dangerous had chosen her. Then she learned the truth. Joseph had only pulled her out of that riot because she looked like his wife, Maria, when Maria was young. Any sane woman would have walked away. Brenda decided Maria had to die. She tracked Maria’s schedule, planned a hit-and-run, and meant to play the heroic bystander after putting Joseph’s wife in the ground. If Maria was gone, Brenda believed she could take her place. In my first life, I stopped her. I knocked her out before she could make her move. I begged her to understand that Joseph was not some lovesick man from her mafia novels. He was a Don. If he found out, he would not just punish her. He would burn our whole family with her. Brenda cried. She nodded. She promised she understood. That night, she poured paraquat into my water glass. As I died, she whispered, “You ruined my shot at the big life, Sharon. So I ruined yours.” Then I opened my eyes again. I was back on the day she made her move. This time, I stayed where I was.

When I'm in my senior year of high school, my mom, Bethany Stout, is diagnosed with uremia. Even after our family sells the house, we are still 300,000 dollars short on the dialysis fee. I pack my bags overnight, ready to go to work on an assembly line at an electronics factory. The class belle, Natasha Ferris, grabs my shirt tightly at the train station ticket gate. She's someone who usually blushes even when speaking a little loudly, but that day she forces a bank card into my hand. "The password is your birthday. Consider the money a loan. You're not allowed to miss the SAT." I say I may never be able to pay this money back in my entire life. With red-rimmed eyes, she scolds me, "Then pay me back slowly, but you cannot ruin your life just like this." Throughout the four years of college, she transfers me 800 dollars for food every single month without fail, and the note is always "eat more meat". Mom survives the kidney transplant surgery, and I also secure a guaranteed admission and enter a top-tier company. But Natasha cuts off all contact without any warning. Eight years later, I am the youngest partner at the major company, with an annual salary of ten million dollars. Yet, Natasha's name appears in a mockery video of a local matchmaking group. "Not only is this woman already 30 years old and has a sick mother, but she's also demanding 100,000 dollars as a wedding gift? Is she crazy or what?" When I watch the person in the video wearing old clothes, head lowered while enduring people's criticism, my eyes sting with tears. I push aside the signing ceremony for a ten-million-dollar project and pick up the bank card and my Social Security card. This time, it is my turn to catch Natasha when she falls.

After creating a social media account for my newborn daughter, Natalie Graham, I made her first post. "Welcome to the world, Nattie." Three minutes later, a notification pops up. "Mom, I miss you." I frown. It has to be one of my friends messing with me. Then, another comment appears. "Mom, why did you die when I was one month old? Aunt Wanda said it was because I was naughty. She said you jumped off a roof because you hated me. "I'm five now, and I've been really, really good. Aunt Wanda said I had to fall down the stairs one more time for Dad to come home. Will I get to see you too, Mom?" My mind goes blank. My fingers tremble so badly I can barely type. Wanda Levine is my husband Zane Graham's secretary. The first time he mentioned her was while he was peeling an orange for me. "Wanda was one of the students my family sponsored," he casually starts. "She's done well for herself. After graduating, she earned a spot in the executive office." The room is perfectly warm, yet a chill runs straight through me. Without thinking, I quickly fire off a reply. "Don't go anywhere near the stairs!" Her response leaves me speechless.

I'm an orphan too broke to even cover my own college tuition. But I happen to have the exact same face as Cassandra Ashford, heiress to one of the richest families in the city! The young lady sitting across from me, the one wearing my face, slapped a bank card down on the table. "Sixty grand for living expenses. Another three hundred thousand once the job's done." She wanted me to take her place at a business school. The goal: to blow up her arranged marriage to her fiance, Julian Sinclair. Cassandra said she hadn't laid eyes on the guy since she was seven, so I could go ahead without a worry. She was off to chase true love. I thought about the old director lying gravely ill in the hospital, and the orphanage that was one bad month away from shutting down. I said yes without a second's hesitation. What I never saw coming was the first day of school. Riding my rented city bike, I plowed straight into the car of the guy showing up to enroll on the same day: Julian Sinclair. The window rolled down, revealing a face so gorgeous it should have been illegal. Julian stared at my face and let out a cold scoff. "Cassandra." "Haven't seen you in over a decade, and you've already learned to fake a fender-bender for cash?"

For three consecutive months, an extra five hundred dollars mysteriously appeared in my desk drawer. Attached to each stack of cash was the same brief note: “Overtime Pay.” The only problem? Our company didn’t offer overtime pay. It wasn’t until I finally checked the security camera footage that I uncovered the truth. Every single night, my boss was sneaking over to my desk and slipping cash into my drawer.

My sister Debra Evans and I came of age in the same year, and we were both chosen to represent humanity in the beast-clan mating ceremony. According to the ancient pact between humans and beasts, the first half-beast child born from this generation's unions would become the next ruler of the Human-Beast Alliance. Debra chose Jacob Griffin, the eldest son of the wolf clan—the strongest of them all. But every child she conceived ended up stillborn. Jacob flew into a rage and dissolved their bond. No other beastman would take her in either—not when she couldn't give them heirs. Meanwhile, I had chosen Patrick Bryant of the serpent clan. And I gave birth to the first half-beast child of the generation. They hailed me as a divine maiden. Patrick rose to power because of me. Debra burned with jealousy. She poisoned my child and shoved me off a cliff—I shattered on the rocks below. When I opened my eyes again, it was the very day we were to choose our mates. Without hesitation, Debra picked Patrick. I knew then: she had been reborn too. But she had no idea what I'd actually gone through in my past life.

When I'm eight years old, my dad gets remarried. Then, when my stepmother gets pregnant, she decides I'm an eyesore. Dad shoves a train ticket into my hand. "I can't afford to raise you anymore. Your aunt's working down south. Go to her." I don't even remember what my aunt, Ava Shore, looks like anymore. All I know is that she left home at 18 and cut contact with Dad years ago. I spend a day and a night on that train, getting more scared by the minute. What if Aunt Ava doesn't want me, either? When I finally step off the train and exit the station, I'm greeted by an MPV. The door swings open, and a woman with big, blown-out curls and sunglasses steps out in high heels. "So you're the daughter my brother decided he didn't want?" I nod, clutching the straps of my duffel in a death grip. She crouches and studies me carefully. "Your hair's a mess. You look like some neglected stray." Before I can respond, a boy about my age pops his head out from behind her. "Mom, she looks awful." Aunt Ava immediately reaches back and twists his ear. "Say that again if you have the guts. If anyone at your school even thinks about bullying her, I'm coming for you first." The boy bares his teeth and hisses in pain, but he still reaches out and takes my duffel from me. A warm southern breeze washes over me, and tears form in my eyes. Suddenly, I don't feel so scared anymore.

Today was my younger son, Luke's, eighteenth birthday. My ex-husband, Major General Arthur Ashford, let himself into my house without knocking. He headed straight for the liquor cabinet like he still owned the place. He poured himself a glass of whiskey and looked at me with open contempt. "Allison, how have you enjoyed the last eight years? Stuck here in Briarwood because of a family court order. "All because I broke a couple of glasses and put my hands on you a few times, you just had to file for divorce." "And what did that get you? The judge stopped you from taking the kids out of the city and made sure I got regular visitation." He swirled the whiskey in his glass, spilling a little onto the carpet. It was the same cocky look he wore the night he came home drunk and beat me with his belt. "You really thought you could get away from me? As long as I say no, you'll spend the rest of your life under my control. "After Luke cuts his cake, I am filing for emergency guardianship. You will never take my son away from me." I looked at his smug face, gripping the edge of my sleeve, and said nothing. Then he lifted his glass, ready to start barking orders at everyone. My daughter, Kate, rose from her chair and set a thick stack of papers onto the table in front of him. "General Ashford, you should read these. "As of midnight, Luke is legally an adult. Every travel restriction the family court placed on Mom is gone. "And this is the filing receipt for the name change petition for the two of us, which I filed with the Supreme Court." Arthur gave the papers a dismissive glance. Then his smile disappeared. Printed across the top in bold letters were the words: Petitions of Kate Ashford and Luke Ashford to Change Their Surname to Pierce.

Ten years into my fated bond with Alpha Rook Blackwood, I discovered he'd betrayed me again. Fighting through the pain in the old mark at the nape of my neck, I kicked open the basement door where Rook had hidden the other woman. Rook, the Alpha who had always held himself above everyone, was on his knees before a human woman named Elowen Hart, pressing her foot to his crotch as he panted with desire. I lost control and shifted into my wolf form, lunging at the girl. But Rook immediately threw himself in front of her, letting my sharp claws pierce through his abdomen. Seeing the blood gushing from the wound, I froze. Rook grabbed my paw and shoved it deeper into the wound. The agony drained all color from his face, but his eyes were cold and calm as he looked at me. "Do you need to go deeper?" I shook my head instinctively. Only then did he release me, collapsing to his knees in the pool of blood. "If not, get out. Don't scare her. I'm begging you, Lira." I shifted back to human form in silence. For the first time, the man before me felt like a stranger. As the pack's powerful Alpha, Rook had never begged anyone for anything. This was the first time he had ever lowered himself before another person, and it was for an outsider. "Lira, you can take out your anger on me however you want, but she's off limits. Stay away from this basement. Don't come after her again." The pain in the old mark kept sharpening, yet I suddenly laughed. From now on, I wouldn't just be staying away from the basement. I'd be staying far away from him too.

When my foster parents tried to sell me off to an ugly old nobleman, I finally snapped. I decided to climb Mount Olympus and confront the god I had prayed to all my life: Zeus. I wanted to know why he didn't care about his believers at all. After surviving a hellish climb, I finally laid eyes on him. He was tall, devastatingly handsome, and sat there looking entirely aloof and untouchable. But I didn't care about his divine majesty. I rushed forward, threw my arms around his leg, and started sobbing. Zeus fell silent for a moment, then let out a heavy sigh. "You came all this way... for this?" I glared up at him, fully justified. "Aren't you the most powerful god? Obviously, it's your job to take care of everyone!" Zeus was actually speechless. Eventually, he agreed to send down divine punishment, turning my greedy foster parents into literal fat pigs. But I still wasn't satisfied. "So, next time I get bullied, can I come find you again?" Zeus rubbed his temples in exasperation and handed me a necklace. "Say my name three times in your heart, and I will appear."

My online boyfriend was ridiculously clingy. Every single night, he insisted on phone calls. He needed the sound of my voice just to fall asleep. It was way past midnight. Hearing his low, heavy panting through my phone made my face burn and my heart race. "Keep it down," I whispered into the mic. "My roommate is right next door." My roommate was a total mystery. I had no idea what he actually did for a living, but he was loaded—and terrifying. I definitely didn't want to piss him off. Then, floating right before my eyes, glowing text boxes suddenly flashed into thin air: [Does she really not know? The guy next door IS her online boyfriend! It's Matteo, the mafia don!] [Matteo holds massive grudges. If he finds out she's just a paid stand-in chatting for someone else, he'll blow her head off!] [Such a shame. This whole story turns into a total angst-fest later. Otherwise, I'd high-key ship them!] Mafia don? Online boyfriend? And how on earth do these floating texts know I'm chatting on someone else's behalf?! Busted. Panic surged through me. I slammed the end button. I bolted into the hallway, desperate to splash cold water on my face in the bathroom to get a grip. But as I hurried past, a raspy, shaking murmur seeped through the steamy crack of the shower door. "Baby... why'd you hang up on me?"

Moving day. My parents passed out keys like candy—one for my brother, one for his wife, one for my younger brother's girlfriend, even one for Maria the housekeeper. Everyone except me. No explanation ever came. Not even as I dragged my suitcase out the front door, my family's laughter fading behind me. If a house had no place for me, it wasn't worth staying in. Three days later, at the airport, about to board my flight, I spotted them. Panic. All over their faces.