Plot Twists Romance 단편 소설 & CEO Face Slapping 소설

Jenson Bailey suffered from severe face blindness. The morning after our wedding night, right after sleeping with me, he pulled up his pants and warned me coldly, "We got married for business. Profit comes first. We stay out of each other’s lives. Don’t forget your place, Natasha." So I picked up a part-time job at a coffee shop. Jenson said, "That girl has a really clean vibe. Look into her background." When I started singing at a bar, Jenson said, "That lead singer’s voice is incredible. Find a way to sign her to the company." After I set off fireworks by the beach, Jenson stared at me for a long moment before asking, "Miss, have we met somewhere before?" I told him I was married, and he went quiet for a while. "I’m not interested in being the other man. But can I ask when your husband plans to get out of the way?"

I’d been married to my husband James for three years. On Valentine’s Day, he gave his stepsister, Mia, one hundred and eighty thousand dollars, along with millions in jewelry. I, on the other hand, received a free bouquet of roses. When I didn’t look thrilled, he accused me of being a gold digger. “Mia never had anyone to care for her growing up. Why are you competing with her? Isn’t being Mrs. Smith enough to feed your vanity?” Furious, I stormed out of the house. When a car lost control and came barreling toward me, he instinctively rushed to protect Mia, who was standing a full ten feet from the road. I was the one who ended up in the hospital. Lying in that bed, I finally gave up. I signed the divorce papers without hesitation. “Giving up the title of Mrs. Smith is the dumbest decision you’ll ever make,” he told me, looking down at me from above before walking away. Seven years later, we met again. He took one glance at my simple dress and laughed out loud. I didn’t bother to respond. I just held my daughter close and waited for her father—the richest man in the city—to arrive.

My husband called me fat, ugly, and disgusting. Then he used that as an excuse to cheat on me with his secretary, Joanna. I threw him a birthday party, hoping to make him happy, but he chose to spend the night with her instead. Tired and fed up, I signed the divorce papers and walked out of his life. Three years later, I was no longer the unwanted XXL wife of Adrian Wellington. I was Miranda Wright, a billionaire heiress who had just bought my ex-husband’s company under a fake name. When Adrian finally discovered who I was, he was shocked. Then he fell at my feet, pleading for another chance. “Miranda, don’t do this to us.” I ignored him, pulled my hand away, and barked an order at my security guards. “Throw him out, and make sure he never comes anywhere near me again.” He once thought I wasn’t good enough for him. Now, he was begging for the woman he had thrown away.

On my first day after being appointed President of the Castellano Group, I had just reached the main entrance of the company headquarters when a female employee stopped me. “Only senior management is allowed through this entrance. Janitorial staff must use the side entrance.” I frowned slightly. “I’m not janitorial staff.” Instead of backing down, she took the senior employee ID badge from her chest and waved it in front of me with a mocking smile. “Not janitorial staff?” “Then you’re an intern?” “Interns have to use the side entrance too! This has been a long-standing rule of our company!” “If you can’t even follow such a basic rule, pack your things and get out right now!” I glanced at the ID badge in her hand. Executive Assistant? Wasn’t she my fiancé, Damian Castellano’s, personal assistant? I immediately called Damian to confront him, only to hear his indulgent chuckle from the other end. “That little wildcat has quite the temper.” “Forget it. Using the side entrance won’t hurt you. Just let her have her way.” “Otherwise, how is she supposed to hold her head up at the company from now on?” With that, he hung up. The female assistant lifted her chin and sneered. “What are you pretending for? Hurry up and move!” “Senior executives will be coming through this entrance later. Don’t get their expensive shoes dirty!” I was so angry that I laughed. I pushed her aside, used my own authorization to unlock the main entrance, and walked inside without a hint of urgency. If the company’s old rules had already rotted to this point, then today, I would be the one to rewrite them.

On the seventh Christmas of our marriage, my husband, Alan Seaton, who worked in France, finally agreed to let me visit him. That was when I learned he wasn't renting some basement apartment at all. He had bought a spacious three-bedroom apartment. His mother, Maria Seaton, had the primary bedroom. He slept in the second, and the third had been turned into a pink princess room for his mother's goddaughter, Daisy. Even Daisy's dog had a climate-controlled kennel on the balcony. When he caught me staring at the kennel, Alan laughed and patted Daisy on the head. "You treat that dog better than your own mother. You insisted he couldn't suffer, so you even had radiant floor heating installed for him." I stared at the border collie eating imported beef in his kennel, and something inside me broke. For a moment, I had no idea what to say to Alan. Should I tell him that I had worked three jobs to fund his business overseas and that when I had a fever, I could only afford expired acetaminophen? Or that I had lived on sandwiches until a bleeding ulcer made me pass out in my rented room? Before I could decide, Alan pulled me over to the dining table. "You haven't worked in Texas in years anyway. Why don't you sell your house there and move here to take care of my mom? You can look after Daisy's dog too." He had no idea I had sold that house in Texas years ago to clean up the mess he had left behind. Nor did he know that I was the real owner of the multinational company he worked for.

After taking three bullets for the cold and untouchable Gerald Smith, Elise Callaghan finally earned the old madam's approval to marry him. But while she was still lying unconscious in a coma, Gerald publicly announced his engagement to Alexandra Lancaster, a scholarship student the Smith family had sponsored. Naturally, the revelation caused an uproar across the city. After all, everyone knew Elise's notorious temper. Raised by Gerald himself, she'd spent years openly pursuing the man everyone believed she was destined to marry. Alexandra was merely an intern working at the newspapers—a nobody who seemed utterly unworthy of standing beside a man like Gerald Smith. When Elise appeared at Gerald and Alexandra's engagement party, all the guests in attendance held their breaths. They were sure that the reckless young woman who had scandalously fallen in love with her father's close friend was not going to stand for the engagement. Gerald’s face darkened the moment he noticed her. He instinctively shielded Alexandra behind him while issuing a stern warning, "Elise, don't make a scene." To his surprise, all Elise did was smile radiantly and congratulate him in an exceedingly demure voice, "Congratulations on finding the woman you love, Gerald."

My older sister, Nina Farro, is famous in Balthor's elite circle for being indifferent and refined. But I'm the only person who knows she's just pretending. The moment she finds out she's going to be married to Tristan Conte, the heir of a powerful family in Balthor, she locks herself in the chapel of the Farro residence and refuses to leave. "I don't care how impressive the family background is or how much power they hold. All I want is a peaceful and ordinary life." She sets three conditions for Tristan. First, he has to build a chapel for her in the Conte residence where she can pray in peace. Second, Tristan has to abstain from alcohol and meat for two months before their wedding. Third, Tristan has to agree to live separately from her for three years after marriage and not touch her, as proof of his sincerity. Tristan bursts out laughing in disbelief. "Am I at the right place? Is this the Farro residence or a convent?" "Mr. Farro, if you don't want the business deal in Yak City, plenty of people are ready to take it. We'll see how much longer the Farro family can keep its books balanced." My father, Saul Farro, is quick to apologize, while his wife, Celeste Silvi, puts on a smile and says everything she can to appease Tristan. Alas, no matter what they say, Nina refuses to budge. She insists that Tristan agree to her conditions before she agrees to the marriage alliance with the Conte family. "You can't force something that isn't meant to be. Mr. Conte, if you have no real intention of committing to this marriage, then please see yourself out." When it looks like Tristan is about to storm out and call off the marriage arrangement, I take a deep breath from the corner I was hiding in and dash out to stop him. "Mr. Conte, if Nina won't marry you, I will!"

After Alfie Lawson, the young heir of an elite family, is dumped by his sweet, innocent girlfriend, he develops selective mutism. His mother announces that whoever can get her son to speak will be rewarded with 100,000 dollars. I push my way through all the women trying to coax him out of his shell. "Hey, remember how you were calling me 'Mommy' in bed last night?" "I did not!" Alfie blurts out. Immediately, his mother wires 100,000 dollars to my account. I'm elated. From then on, I follow him around every day, teasing him and collecting my money. I rake in a fortune without even lifting a finger. Alfie won't speak, and he can't exactly hit me either. So whenever I push him too far, he resorts to shutting me up with his lips. Overnight, I go from being his study companion to his girlfriend. Every time I make a dirty joke, he makes sure I regret it by punishing me in bed until I'm too scared to say another word. Then, just before our wedding, Alfie's innocent old flame, Wendy Brown, returns after getting a taste of the real world. That night, he never comes home. I take the remaining half-box of condoms and the savings I've scraped together over the past decade, then drag my suitcase out of our marital home. I deliver the condoms to them. As for the savings, I use them to buy myself a ticket back home.

On the day I reunite with my ex-boyfriend, Zachary Carter, I'm in my electrician's uniform, arguing with a client. "I'm not leaving until you pay me, you pervert! You asked for an attractive woman to come over to your house, and now you're refusing to pay? Let's see what will happen when your wife gets home!" I yell. The door slams shut with a loud bang, and several bills are thrown onto the floor. As I crouch down to pick up the money, Zachary stands before me holding the keys to his Porsche. "You'd rather scam people and risk getting beaten to death than come back to me to ask for help?" he asked. Behind me, the client is still screaming at me. "You're crazy! I paid for an attractive woman to come over—not for an attractive woman to come over and fix my wiring!"

Upon discovering I was pregnant, I excitedly rushed to my husband’s company to put our baby down as our insurance beneficiary. However, I was shocked to read my husband’s file. Partner: Victoria Winston Children: Jack Hudson, Sophia Hudson. I froze. The HR manager said the woman was his legally wedded wife and the heiress to the largest hotel chain on the East Coast. Their children were already seven years old. It felt like my world was crumbling down around me. If she was his wife, what was I? His mistress of five years? His friend with benefits? Even more absurdly, I was now pregnant with his child. A child who would never be acknowledged by their father. An illegitimate child. I nodded dazedly. My whole body felt weak. The man I considered my husband was never mine. Even after death, his gravestone would not have my name!

At yet another family gathering, Kirsten Weber's male assistant, Jordan Steele, is sitting in the seat that should be mine. I ask Kirsten, "He's sitting in the host's seat. Don't you have anything to say about that?" Kirsten shoots back impatiently, "Since you showed up late, don't blame someone else for taking your seat. There's an empty seat next to it. You can take it if you want. If you don't want it, then get out." I am about to speak when her inner thoughts suddenly flood into my mind. She is saying inwardly, "Honey, get angry already. Tell me you need me. Tell me you have to sit beside me. Prove that you love me. That's the only way I'll feel secure." This time, I do not give Kirsten what her heart desires. Instead, I lower my head and slowly remove my wedding ring. Calmly, I say, "Since you won't even save the seat for the man of the house, I suppose you don't need me anymore. Let's get a divorce, Kirsten."

My fiancé, Lucas Hale, was known in our circle for his charity work. He looked after Ella, a student from a poor background, as if she were made of glass. When his first project bonus came in, he spent it on a limited-edition bracelet for Ella. The day we got the keys to the apartment we'd bought to live in after the wedding, he let her pick her room first. Even when I had appendicitis and was in so much pain I could barely stand, he sent me to the hospital alone in a cab because Ella had a slight headache and wanted company. When I woke up from the anesthesia, I'd finally had enough. I made him choose between Ella and me. He frowned as if he had no idea what I meant. "Freya, Ella grew up with no one. I just show her a little extra kindness. Do you have to keep score like this? "Look. I swear that from now on, I'll put you first in everything. All right?" I saw the promise in his eyes and swallowed my hurt one more time. But the whole wedding still reflected Ella's tastes, and he had the dress made in her size. At the wedding rehearsal, Lucas brought Ella to the venue. He smiled at me and said, "Ella says she may never get married. She wants to experience a full wedding ceremony just once. Let her stand in for you at the rehearsal. "You'll still be the bride on the day. Think of it as helping her live out a dream. Okay?"

My fiance, Adrian Hale, and I had planned to go snorkeling on Valentine's Day. The day we landed in the south of France, I discovered that his first love, Vivian Clarke, had come with us. They insisted on heading into unpatrolled waters. "But those waters are dangerous, shrouded in strange rumors..." Adrian frowned at me. "Sophie, do you have to ruin the mood right now?" Vivian smiled and hooked her arm through his. "With you here, nothing is going to happen to us." Once we were in the water, Vivian recklessly swam toward the deeper channel. A swell shoved half her body into a narrow opening. I swam over to pull her free, but she thrashed and drove her heel hard into my knee. Her elbow knocked my mask crooked. Before I could straighten it, Vivian kicked me into the opening. Adrian came up behind us, grabbed Vivian, and held her hand tight. The voices over my underwater headset were muffled, but I still heard Adrian's cold warning clearly. "Vivi doesn't know these waters. You do, don't you? "You led her into deeper water on purpose. Who exactly were you trying to hurt? "Figure your own way out. Consider it the lesson you've earned!" Briny seawater flooded my throat. My aching legs kicked uselessly. My body was wedged fast in the opening. I closed my eyes in despair. My last thought was this: if I died, they deserved to pay with their lives.

On our wedding night, my husband Grayson's sister-in-law, Scarlette, stumbled drunkenly into our bridal suite and threw her arms around him, refusing to let go. "Kayla, my husband died young, and I really just want a child. Please, lend him to me for one night," she cried through her tears, shoving a toy into my hand. "I promise I'll return him tomorrow. And if you get lonely… you can use this to comfort yourself." I stood there, dumbfounded, my gaze shifting in confusion to Grayson, who was already helping Scarlette steady herself. "You're really going to sleep with her?" He avoided my eyes, his tone strangely urgent. "Don't overthink it. She's drunk and talking nonsense. I'll take her back to her room to rest." As he started to leave with her, I stepped in front of them, blocking their way. "Grayson, it's our wedding night tonight. Are you seriously going to walk out with her?" His expression darkened as he pushed me aside. "You're my wife now—try to be more sensible. Don't get jealous over something so trivial." Then, carefully, he guided her out of the room. I wanted to run after him and stop them, but when I saw the deep concern in his eyes as he looked at her, the truth finally hit me. The love this man had for me was no longer mine alone. And if that was the case, why should I cling to a marriage that had already soured? I might as well walk away with my head held high.

On our fifth dating anniversary, my boyfriend, Luke Bolton, gives me a cheap bracelet worth less than a hundred dollars. On the same night, he splurges ten million dollars on a yacht for his first love, Cindy Gale. I refuse to accept this, and he accuses me of making a scene. "I gave Cindy that gift to boost the company's stock price, not because I still have feelings for her," he says. "You're poor, and I still promised to marry you. Isn't that enough? This was actually your last test, Elisa Gray, but you failed it." I break up with him, and he immediately proposes to Cindy. Five years after that, we meet again at a luxury hotel during a business summit. His company is about to become an industry giant, and Cindy is holding onto his arm. When he sees me, I'm standing in a fountain, all drenched and disheveled. "Elisa," Luke sneers. "When you turned me down back then, did it ever cross your mind that you might end up worse than a homeless person? "Don't think acting pitiful here will make me feel sorry and take you back." I ignore him. My son's cherished blue diamond was a birthday gift from his father, and he accidentally dropped it into the fountain. He's so upset that he's about to cry, and I have to find it right away.

The 99th time Owen Anderson slides a ring onto my finger, his adopted sister, Monica Morgan, calls again. And just like that, for the 99th time, he ditches me at the altar to be with her, who's having another depressive episode. I'm fed up. I yell after him as he walks away, "Go ahead! Walk out on me, and I swear I'll marry someone else!" He doesn't even flinch. Instead, he snaps, "Can you stop being so unreasonable? We can get married anytime, but Monica's the only sister I've got." Then, he turns and walks away, leaving me standing there like a complete fool. What he doesn't realize is that this time, I mean it. Later, when he gets down on one knee for the 100th time, his older brother, Chris, slips an arm around my waist and says, "Sorry, Owen. She's your sister-in-law now."

When I'm at the hospital for a prenatal checkup, I find out that the husband of the woman sitting beside me is Rupert Hensley, a renowned businessman. It's such a coincidence. Rupert is my husband, too. As we chat, I learn that her husband isn't with her because he's out of town for a meeting. This is even more coincidental—my husband is also out of town for a meeting. After a long silence, I decide to get an abortion instead of going for my prenatal checkup. It's only when I later ask for a divorce that I remember he and I never registered our marriage in the first place.

The three heirs of the Whitman family all claimed to love me. But their way of loving me was to keep me hidden. Alexander said New York's financial reporters were too aggressive and that making our relationship public would only put me in the middle of a media frenzy. Nicholas said people in the investment world were vicious gossips and he was afraid I'd become a target, so he never brought me to his partners' gatherings, private clubs, or holiday receptions. Leon said his music career wasn't established yet. Once he had a stage that was truly his own, he would acknowledge me in front of the whole world. I waited four years. This changed when Lillian Grant walked into their lives. Alexander walked her down the red carpet at the Manhattan Art Foundation gala. The next day, every entertainment outlet ran the same headline: "Eldest Whitman Heir Appears to Go Public with New Romance." Nicholas brought her to an investor reception, where his partners called her "the future Mrs. Whitman" right to my face. Leon was the most direct. He played a song at a twenty-thousand-person concert and told the livestream camera, "For the most important person in my life." The jumbotron cut to Lillian's seat. The day after the livestream. Alexander set a folder on the coffee table. "You're twenty-five now. We think it's time you had a life of your own." Nicholas continued, "This man comes from an ordinary background, but he has a stable job. He's been divorced once and has no children. " Leon slid the photo in front of me, smiling with the same easy warmth as always. "We've already met him for you. He's more than a good match." I didn't argue. I just picked up my phone and called the Whitman family attorney. What they didn't know was that the family trust Grandfather had established before his death made one thing perfectly clear. Whoever I chose would receive that twenty-seven percent block of voting shares and become the true power behind the Whitman family.

I'm having a mental breakdown as I face a clogged drain with my feverish and fussing daughter in my arms. Meanwhile, my husband has reserved a hotel to celebrate another woman's birthday. My mother-in-law spits on the floor. "This is what you deserve. You can't even capture a man's heart!" I clench a fist around the winning lottery ticket in my pocket. I want to get a divorce.

On the eve of our ninth wedding, my fiance, Jasper Preston, develops a split personality after saving me in a car accident. One personality loves me down to his very bones. The other, however, is hopelessly in love with his junior, Wendy Upton. While I'm in a half-dreaming stupor, I hear the doctor sigh. "Mr. Preston's two personalities possess immense self-awareness. I'm afraid it'll be very difficult for them to merge. If Ms. Birch insists on marrying him, she must be willing to share her husband with another woman." Sighs ripple through the room, but I remain exceptionally resolute. After all, he had risked his life to save me in that accident. How could I possibly give up on the man I love so easily? However, the very next second, I hear another voice. "Jasper, you really outdid yourself this time. I can't believe you actually made up a split personality. Still, knowing Stella's temper, won't she drag you down to hell with her once she finds out the truth?" Jasper scoffs, "She loves me so much that she'd give her life for me; she'd never hurt me. I have to teach her a lesson because she fired Wen." My heart feels as though a blade has pierced straight through it. So, the disasters plaguing our weddings aren't coincidences. Everything—every single obstacle—has just been his twisted way of punishing me. Since he's willing to go this far for Wendy, I no longer want this forced marriage. Consequently, when I come to, and Jasper puts on his split-personality act, I simply look at his sworn rival, Mason Winslow, who is standing beside him. "Honey, who is he?" I ask calmly.