Familial Bond Romance Short Stories & Bias Revenge Novels

My sister had always despised school. So when she suddenly declared she wanted to go to college—and even urged our parents to marry me off to a high-ranking officer's son to fund her studies—I knew at once: she had been reborn too. In our previous life, my sister believed studying was pointless. She barely graduated high school before marrying Anthony Brown, the officer's son who had come to propose with a pretty penny. However, when Anthony was later transferred to a remote outpost, she found the harsh conditions unbearable and refused to follow him. Meanwhile, I worked part-time jobs to put myself through college, landed a secure job after graduation, and became a full-fledged city resident. My sister, still living in the military compound, started using her father-in-law's name to take bribes. Her actions dragged him into a scandal and got him dismissed from his position. Eventually, my mother-in-law kicked her out. After the divorce, she was tricked into investing in stocks in Eastbridge City. The market crashed, and she lost all of our parents' retirement savings. Desperate and with nowhere to go, she turned to me. Cornering me with a knife, she demanded I hand over my savings and apartment so she could "start over." In the chaos, she stabbed me twelve times. I died from massive blood loss. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment she asked our parents to marry me off to Anthony. This time, I smiled, said yes—and dropped out of school that very day.

After I quit my job to become a full-time househusband, my wife, Brooke Lowell, left me with nothing but a bank card capped at 1,000 dollars a month. She said children had to be raised with hardship to grow up strong, and was always worried I might secretly give our daughter special treatment. But 1,000 dollars was nowhere near enough to cover a household's monthly expenses. Every time the kindergarten asked for nutrition fees, I could only swallow my pride and beg for leniency. "She's just a child. Why does she need that much money? You've got some nerve, living so comfortably on 1,000 a month." I had thought Brooke's harshness was meant to temper our daughter's character. That illusion lasted until I asked Brooke for 300 dollars to buy clothes for our daughter's Children's Day performance. What I received instead was humiliation and ridicule from everyone. Brooke accused me of acting like a spoiled rich kid, wasting money on unnecessary clothes. My mother-in-law complained that I dressed too poorly, like a beggar bringing shame to the family. Even my daughter blamed me for embarrassing her, saying I had ruined her Children's Day and damaged her props. I bowed my head, apologized, and paid compensation. Only then did I discover that my bank card had been frozen. The very next moment, Brooke's crush posted on social media about his son receiving a luxury mansion. 'Already a house-owner at three! Who'd believe she's not his birth mother?' Only then did I understand. People who truly loved someone would never be stingy when spending on them.

Before my wife went into labor, a nurse handed me a stack of consent forms. Buried among them was an optional prenatal paternity screening offered through St. Briar Medical Center's new genetic-services program. I'd barely started signing when my mother-in-law, Margaret, charged at me and slapped me across the face. "You monster! My daughter is risking her life to give you a child, and you want a DNA test?" Before I could explain, the hospital-room door flew open. Vanessa pressed a pair of medical scissors against her neck, her eyes bloodshot. "Daniel, I've given you seven years of my life. You know who this baby's father is. Why would you humiliate me like this?" When I saw the thin line of blood on her throat, my heart broke, and I dropped to my knees. I tore up the testing form and ordered my attorney to draft an unconditional agreement transferring assets to the baby. To comfort her, I drove across Aldercrest searching for her favorite honey-lavender shortbread. But when I returned to the hospital room, I heard laughter inside. "Vanessa, thank God we reacted quickly. If he'd signed that testing form, everything would've been over." "Why worry? Daniel's an idiot. I only have to cry, and he believes me." Then a familiar male voice said, "Once the birth certificate gives the child the Raleigh name, everything Daniel owns will belong to the three of us." The words froze me outside the door. I turned away and called my attorney. "Cancel the agreement. Then hire an investigator and uncover everything." At the baby's welcome reception, I would personally present Vanessa with the gift she deserved.

It's Family Day at my daughter, Hannah Neel's, preschool, but my wife, Samantha Miller, says she has to work and tells both Hannah and me not to go. Seeing the disappointment on Hannah's face breaks my heart, so I bring her to school anyway. As soon as we step through the gates, I see Samantha. She's holding her childhood friend—Oscar Barnett's—hand, with a little boy clutching her other. The three of them look like a perfect family, laughing and chatting, as if they belong together. When Samantha sees us, her smile fades, and she lets go of Oscar's hand. "Zach, it's not what you think. Oscar's raising his son alone. Today's his fifth birthday, and he just wanted to give him a little taste of a mother's love," she says quickly. I study her for a moment, then kneel and gently take Hannah's hand in mine. "Sweetheart, say hello to the lady."

I lose my memory and wander the streets, surviving on scraps and the kindness of strangers. Then, Miles Blackwood from the Institute of Medical Research finds me and takes me in. He tells me that I'm his long-lost fiancee who ran away years ago, and that he's spent every ounce of energy searching for me ever since. As I'm frail and riddled with illness, he watches over me as I take my medication every day, tracing the scar on my lower back with a strange, tender affection. But everything shatters the day I regain my memory. I accidentally overhear Miles speaking to a friend. "Miles, you forcibly removed Cassidy's kidney for Claudia back then. That was what caused her to lose her memories. And in the end, you let Claudia take all the credit for the research. "Now, after Cassidy's been suffering out there for years, you're bringing her back just to use her for the artificial kidney project? Aren't you worried that she'll regain her memories?" Miles scoffs. "She's incredibly grateful to me now. Besides, she's just a sickly woman. So what if she finds out? As long as we succeed in the research on artificial kidneys, Claudia will become the star of the medical world. As for Cassidy? She'll have made her contribution to the medical field." A cold chill rushes through me in an instant—I am Cassidy.

After my brother and fake heir, Damon Stewart, runs someone over, he frames me for it. My fiancee immediately breaks off our engagement and marries him. I'm facing prison time, but Crystal Morgan—my childhood sweetheart who's also a lawyer—resolutely chooses to marry me. She works tirelessly to clear my name, and eventually she gets Damon sent to prison. However, her family runs into financial trouble, and her ailing mother is facing prison time herself. To repay a debt of gratitude, I, an accountant, take the blame for the crime and spend seven years in prison. But on the day I'm released, I overhear Crystal and her mother, Lilian Murphy, talking from behind the gates. "Crystal, Elijah loves you so deeply. If he knew that you married him to get Damon off the hook and sign the leniency agreement for his parents' deaths, how heartbroken would he be?" Lilian questions angrily. "I didn't want to either, but his parents are already dead," Crystal replies. I feel my mind reeling. Damon is the one who killed my parents? Lilian sighs. "You signed the leniency agreement, so Damon didn't even have to go to prison. Why did you still frame Elijah and send him to prison?" "If I didn't send him to prison, there was no way we could keep the truth hidden. What, was I supposed to sit back and watch Damon spend seven years behind bars?" My heart clenches painfully. Seven of the best years of my life were spent behind four prison walls, all for Damon's sake. It turns out the mutual love I thought we shared is nothing but a lie. Since that's the case, I'm done with Crystal.

Four years after marrying Wesley Coleman, Emma Payne is expecting a baby. She shows up at the hospital with her forms to get registered, but when the nurse runs her info, she tells her that the marriage certificate isn't valid. Emma simply can't believe it. "No way. That can't be right." The nurse taps on the stamp. "Look at that. The seal is all crooked, and the code doesn't check out." Emma isn't convinced yet. She rushes to the courthouse, but they tell her the same thing. "Mr. Coleman is married, and his spouse's name is Sandra Payne." The news hits her like a ton of bricks. Her mind just goes blank. Sandra Payne is Emma's half-sister. Worst of all, she is also Wesley's first love. Years ago, she went abroad to chase her dreams. She never showed up to her own wedding and left Wesley heartbroken. And now, she is actually his legal wife.