Cerita Pendek Plot Twists Romance & Novel CEO Marriage

I invited my colleagues out for drinks, only for my card to be declined at the bar. Desperate, I approached the handsome stranger sitting in the VIP booth. "Can you cover my tab? I'll pay you back." The man barely glanced up. "Do I know you?" I grabbed the wine glass from his hand. "No, but your bodyguard knows me pretty well. Ask him how many times he's called me for help. Don't I deserve a favor in return?" The man looked completely confused, but his bodyguard raised a hand to shield his face. "Sir, she's telling the truth. Every time you get drunk, you won't let anyone come near you except her. I've had to call her multiple times just to get you home safely."

When a kidnapper forces my husband, Liam Waltz, to choose between saving me and our son, he sacrifices me without a second thought. I'm pushed off the cliff, but somehow, I survive. Still, I have lost all my memories. Liam looks absolutely devastated in front of the media. He holds a public funeral for me, only to marry a woman who looks exactly like me a year later—Clara Brown. Four years pass before my memories return. I return to Ardenix, hoping to see my son, Lucas, only to find that he now sees Clara as his mother. And Liam? After four years of thinking I was dead, he only cares about protecting her. "You were gone for four years. I thought you were dead. You didn't think I'd be widowed forever, did you? I'm now the CEO of a publicly traded company. "I can allow you to stay home, but you can't ever show your face in public. After all, Clara is now my legal wife." Instead of heartbreak, all I feel is relief. During those four years of amnesia, I married the one and only heir of Hurrix Corporation.

After billionaire Jonathan Whitman lost his fortune, his wife Selene had no choice but to work as a maid in a mansion to make ends meet. She scrubbed toilets. She cleaned pools. She hauled out garbage—right up until she lost the baby she was carrying. And then she discovered her husband's affair with Vivienne, her employer. She was sleeping with Selene's husband, carrying her husband's baby, wearing million-dollar rubies, sleeping in silk, dining on imported delicacies. The moment she walked in on them, Selene snapped and pushed Vivienne. But Jonathan, to protect her, had Selene arrested and held in detention. He thought she'd come out of it humbled. Quiet. Tamer. What he didn't know was that the moment she walked free, she filed for divorce. She walked out of the basement studio they'd shared without a backward glance. What he also didn't know: he had a genetic infertility condition. And the only woman on earth whose body could give him a child—was Selene.

During the World Cup finals, I brought soup to my husband at his office as he was working overtime. When I arrived outside the screening room of his office, I heard his new assistant, Jodie Lenford, asking with a laugh, "Mr. Hayes, don't you always tell us that Mrs. Hayes watches every World Cup match with you? Why did you leave her alone at home tonight?" My husband, Tristan, was silent for a while before replying, "Every time she watches the match with me, she'll just lecture me about drinking less and going to bed early. It takes the joy out of everything." Jodie laughed again. "Let me accompany you tonight instead. I'll replace Mrs. Hayes for this duty." "You're just like her back when she was young and fiery." Tristan once told me that I would be the only one by his side during every finals match, but I watched as he gently placed the sports jersey I had carefully picked for him years ago over the shoulders of another woman. Jodie asked, "Won't Mrs. Hayes be mad if she finds out about this?" Tristan laughed. "She's learned her lesson. She won't make a huge fuss like she did before." That was when loud cheering erupted from the screen. I stood in the dark as I suddenly realized that some matches would end with me being benched before the starting whistle was even blown.

The day Arthur Reed and I signed our divorce papers, his stepsister, Chloe Bennett, watched me with red-rimmed eyes. "Lilith, I'm sorry. Once I get better, I'll step aside and give Arthur back to you. You have to believe me." I could recite that apology in my sleep. Whenever Chloe cried, Arthur gave in. To keep his depressed stepsister happy, he would put another set of divorce papers in front of me. We had married four times and divorced four times. Everyone praised Arthur as a caring brother, while I was the one who had to suffer for it. Every time the paperwork was done, Arthur would kiss my cheek and say, "It's just a piece of paper. It's temporary. Once Chloe is stable, we'll remarry. You know you're the only one I've ever loved." I believed him. I kept waiting for him to come back to me. Then last month, I was rushed to the hospital after a car accident. The doctors needed my emergency contact before they could operate. I called Arthur. He sounded annoyed. "Chloe's in a terrible state right now. She needs me. You're so strong. Can't you look after yourself?" So today, when he put the divorce papers in front of me for the fifth time to calm Chloe down, I signed without hesitating. Arthur assumed I would do what I had done the other four times and go home to wait for him to marry me again. He was wrong. This time, I meant it. He would lose both me and his fortune!

I was eight months pregnant when my water broke—the same day as the birthday of my husband’s adopted son. To keep my child from being born on the same day as his adopted son, he forced me to wait until after midnight. He refused to take me to the hospital and locked me in the basement. Adrian Shaw looked down at me. His eyes were dark and hostile. “Elena, you're really good at picking the timing, huh? Of all days, you had to go into labor on Evan’s birthday.” I begged him to take me to the hospital. A trace of disappointment flashed across his eyes, and his voice turned cold. “You’re still trying to lie to me? I asked a doctor. Even if your water breaks, you don’t give birth right away. Some women don’t deliver for three days. “All this scheming is just to secure your position as Mrs. Shaw, so your child can compete with Evan for his birthday and his place. You've really thought this through.” I took a deep breath as despair washed over me. “The baby I’m carrying is yours too! Adrian, I’m begging you. Please, for the child’s sake, save her. As long as the baby is safe, I promise I’ll never show up in front of you again.” His expression darkened. He bent down, grabbed my chin, and replied harshly, “Don’t play games with me. “As long as you stay here quietly until after midnight, I’ll take you to the hospital. Once the baby’s born, you can finally use the child to secure your place and truly marry into the Shaw family.” Later, when my contractions grew unbearable and I cried out in pain, he found me too noisy and took Evan and his mother out to celebrate instead. By the time he remembered me and asked whether I had a boy or a girl, his secretary’s face paled. “Mrs. Shaw is… gone.”

Despite Chuck Garrison cheating on me seven times, I forgive him. He willingly hurts me for his first love, Rebecca Kerry, even though we've been married for seven years. In the second year of his openly pursuing me, Chuck takes the blow in my stead when a robber tries to stab me. I then promise him that no matter what he does, I'll forgive him up to seven times. I don't expect his passionate love to change immediately after we get married. The first time happens on our wedding anniversary. Chuck lies to me, telling me that he has a meeting to attend. In reality, he goes to pick up Rebecca, who has just returned to the country. The second time happens when Rebecca lies about being sick. Chuck doesn't hesitate for even a second and leaves, even though he's celebrating my birthday with me. The third time happens when Chuck hires Rebecca as his assistant. I stumble upon them hugging and kissing each other when I turn the corner. The sixth time happens when I'm pregnant. An unexpected issue occurs, but Chuck is accompanying Rebecca, so there's no one to take care of me. In the end, I suffered a miscarriage. I spend countless nights crying alone after being neglected. I force myself to endure everything because of the promise I made. Out of the seven chances I promised Chuck, there is only one chance left. This time, Chuck orders me to transfer ownership of my company, Starlight Group, to Rebecca. I say nothing as I sign the acquisition contract, hiding a divorce agreement among the documents before handing the stack of papers to him. This is the last time, Chuck. We will not be seeing each other anymore.

After five years of washing dishes overseas, I finally paid off every debt my husband owed and brought my child home, ready to surprise him. But when we reached the rental apartment, it was dusty and locked. A passing neighbor looked stunned. "Didn't you and Mr. Guilfoyle break up? Why are you back?" I went straight to my husband's office, only to be stopped by the receptionist. "Looking for Mr. Guilfoyle? He isn't at the office today. He's at his baby's one-month celebration." My phone lit up with a news alert. "Guilfoyle Group president Adrian Guilfoyle spends millions on lavish one-month celebration; couple appears deeply in love." At the same time, a voice message from Adrian came in. "Honey, I found a few baby clothes online for our son. They were only a few dollars. Remember to pick up the package." In the background, a woman laughed softly and teased him. "The bet's over. How much longer are you going to keep using that fake marriage license to fool Maya Liddell? Aren't you tired of pretending to be poor after all these years?" So I was the only one who had ever been truly poor. After going in circles for years, I had somehow become the real other woman.

The day before my wedding, I secretly go to the hospital to terminate my pregnancy with Richard Johnson's baby. In the hallway, I run into a doctor I know. She looks at me in surprise. "Ms. Xander? Just last week, you were worried that your belly would show through your wedding dress. Why did you suddenly decide not to keep the baby? "Didn't Mr. Johnson come with you?" I lower my head and gently touch my slightly rounded belly, my heart aching with emptiness. "He's very busy. "He's downstairs, accompanying his young stepmother to her prenatal checkup."

I've been in a secret marriage with my CEO husband, Mitchell Clayton. But Mitchell keeps making our son, Aster Clayton, call him "Uncle Mitch" the whole time. In order to make it up to Aster, Mitchell has given him unlimited wealth. But on the day of Aster's birthday, Mitchell hands over the gift that Aster has been eagerly looking forward to the most to his ex-girlfriend's daughter, Stacy Padilla. The gift is a bouquet of flowers made of handmade lucky stars that I've spent half a year folding. As I stare at the empty table, I feel my heart sinking to the pits of my stomach. Then, I call a real estate agent immediately. "Hello, I'd like to purchase a villa that's located in Northern Yewrope. Make it quick." "A villa? Mr. Clayton's secretary never brought it up to me before. Have you gotten it all mixed up, ma'am?" "No," I reply in a low tone. "I'd like to purchase the villa under my own name. If you breathe a word about this to Mitchell, I'll sue your company under the reason of leaking your clients' privacy." After receiving a positive response from the agent, I end the call. Still, I remain rooted to the spot for a long time. Once I return to the banquet hall, Aster tugs at the hem of my dress. "Mom, where's Uncle Mitch? He promised me that he'd attend my birthday party." I feel tears stinging my eyes as I pull Aster into a hug. "Sweetie, he will never be here. Let's not wait for him anymore, okay? Mommy will bring you to a better place." Stars will cover the sky there. None of them will get stolen ever again. As for a certain father who keeps breaking his promises, he will never get to see us ever again.

By the time Ethan Tanner returned from Harbor City, my father had already been dead for two days. He looked like he hadn't slept all night. His black shirt was badly wrinkled, and his eyes were bloodshot. The moment he saw me, he stopped short and reached out to pull me into his arms. I instinctively stepped away. His hand froze in midair. "Why didn't you tell me you were in a car accident?" I lowered my head and continued sorting through Dad's belongings. "My phone was smashed in the crash. And after I woke up, I didn't think there was any reason to tell you." He went still. That night had been his college sweetheart Chloe Lawson's first official performance as the lead in Harbor City. Someone had posted a photo on social media. Ethan was sitting on the backstage stairs of the theater. Chloe had his jacket draped over her shoulders, her head bowed as she cried. The caption read: 'Thank God that when things were at their worst, someone from the past was still there.' By the time that photo was posted, I had just woken up in the ER. My right hand had needed twelve stitches, and blood was still seeping through the gauze. The doctor asked if there was any other family member they could call. I was silent for a long time. Then I shook my head. Ethan's expression changed instantly. "Chloe had an accident before her performance that night. She completely broke down, so I stayed with her at the hospital the whole time—" I didn't look up. I simply pushed the papers on the coffee table toward him. "It's over now. The funeral arrangements are already being handled, and my injuries have been treated." I paused. "Since you're back, there's one more thing we can take care of." He looked down. Three words were printed across the front page. 'Divorce Settlement Agreement.' I gave him a small smile. "Sign it."

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?"

To help my "destitute" husband pay off his debts, I scavenged for scraps for five years. My son and I survived on expired canned food. That changed on my son's birthday. I saw him in a bespoke suit, spending millions to celebrate the birthday of the woman he truly loved. That was the moment I realized he was actually the most powerful billionaire on Wall Street. To please the love of his life, he let our child be injected with unknown drugs, leaving him on the brink of death. He even forced me to drain my own blood to save her son. Later, I became someone he could no longer reach. I linked arms with a man far more powerful than him and walked away. That once arrogant man ended up kneeling in the Arctic snow, clutching a photo I had burned, weeping like a stray dog.

The whole world knew Lionel Potter was crazy about his wife. He wrote songs just for her, baked desserts for her, and couldn't go three sentences without saying "my wife". But Iris Potter discovered that the same Lionel who loved her as if his life depended on it had cheated. She summoned the system and applied to leave the world. [Understood. The self-exit channel has been activated. In 15 days, you will leave this world. The exit method will be a staged death. The location will be the seaside where you once saved the male lead. Cause of death: suicide by drowning. [Please prepare accordingly for your death.] On the 15th day, Iris arranged everything and staged her departure to look like she had gone into the sea, leaving Lionel behind. Only then did Lionel wake up. He unraveled, nearly losing his mind, consumed by the need to find her.

Everyone knew I was the man the richest woman in Tova City adored most. She spoiled me constantly, giving me everything I wanted and following my every lead. One day, after waking up from a nap, I found myself tied up at an auction house. On the stage sat my wife, surrounded by her group of friends. One of them laughed and asked, "Sora, how did you find time to bring Damien out today? Everyone says you're so obsessed with your husband Cleo now that you don't have time for Damien anymore." Sora looked at the man next to her before expressing wryly, "Cleo hasn't been feeling well lately, so I've been home taking care of him. Damien's been throwing a fit about it, so I figured I'd make time to bring him out today." I squirmed desperately, trying to get Sora's attention so she would help me. She finally noticed me, but all she did was slowly raise her bidding sign. "Number nine won't stop squirming. He looks like a real handful. One million dollars! I'm picking him."

At the auction, my fiancé's secretary raised the bidding paddle twice on his behalf. The first time, she outbid Lady Margaret Vesta by a single silver coin, snatching away the emerald brooch meant as a coming-of-age gift for her daughter. She brandished the house seal of my fiancé, Cassian Severus, with a brazen grin. "Her husband can afford to keep a woman on the side, but he won't pay what he owes Cassian. I'm just collecting a little interest for him. What's the problem?" Cassian thought I was still at sea. He just smiled and told her not to be so blunt in front of a crowd next time. The second time, she set the seal into the gold tray, activating an irrevocable, open-ended bid. This time, she was after my mother's heirloom: a silver dolphin necklace. She sat in the seat that should have been mine, wearing the custom crimson gown I had paid for, and looked across half the hall at me. "It belonged to a dead woman. Anyone can wear it. Lady Helena has plenty of jewelry already. Why not let me have it?" Cassian still had his back to me. He didn't know I was already back.

Five years ago, I witnessed my wife, a university professor, having an affair with Henry Bale, her teaching assistant. Mindy Holmes knelt begging me not to expose her, saying that it would destroy his reputation as a student. I agreed on the condition that he would drop out of school, leave this city, and never return. She would have to sign an agreement to leave the marriage without a single cent if she were to be unfaithful to me again. Everyone rebuked me for being vain and for treasuring money more than our relationship. However, Mindy was willing to go against the entire Holmes family just to preserve Henry’s reputation. Five years later, when I went on a business trip in another city, I found a little girl. I sent her to a police station and had her contact her family. When the policeman dialed the number the girl recited to him, I heard a familiar voice through the phone. “Be good. Don’t be afraid, I’ll come pick you up right away.” Less than half an hour later, Mindy rushed into the station when she was supposed to be at her class miles away. I sat on the bench, my gaze meeting hers. She stood stunned. I stood up with a smile. “Mindy, I didn’t know you had a daughter behind my back. Looks like you can bid goodbye to your reputation as a highly-esteemed professor.”

The tenth time one of my paintings appeared under my sister Rose's name, I handed Adrian the divorce papers. He raised an eyebrow and tossed the agreement aside without a second glance. "Don't be dramatic. Your hand is ruined -- where would you even go without me?" I said nothing. He smiled, his tone dripping with casual indifference. "You should be grateful. Rose was the one I was supposed to marry. A few paintings is a small price to pay. A little gratitude wouldn't kill you." He blew a ring of cigarette smoke directly into my face. I choked, and the sting brought tears to my eyes. Through the blur, I was transported back to the moment my tendons were severed for his sake -- a pain that had drilled straight to the bone. He thought I had no choice but to take it. What he didn't know was that I'd already accepted an offer from the Royal Academy of Arts in London. Soon, I would be free of him for good.

By the time I hit twenty without a husband, I'd become the joke of Butcher's Alley. I wasn't about to just take it, so I marched out to the pauper's graveyard and dragged home a half-dead man I found there. He was gorgeous. More handsome than any portrait I'd ever seen. It didn't matter that he'd lost his memory and wasn't quite right in the head. It didn't matter that he couldn't lift a crate or carry a load, that he nearly fainted dead away the first time he watched me slaughter a pig. I slapped my knee and made up my mind. "You're the one. You handle looking pretty, and I'll handle bringing home the bacon." I named him Walt and treated him like he was made of glass. I fed him well, kept him comfortable, and slowly nursed him back to health until his cheeks were full and his skin was soft. Then I started planning the wedding. On our wedding night, I'd just gotten his wedding coat off when the front door flew off its hinges. Hundreds of royal guards dropped to their knees all at once, their voices shaking the walls. "Welcome back to the capital, Grand Chancellor!" I looked down at the man beneath me. The warmth in his eyes was gone, replaced by something cold and sharp. The belt I'd been holding snapped right in two. I was done for. I'd been bossing around the most powerful man in the empire for six months and using him as a house husband. Was I looking at death by slow torture, or would they wipe out my entire family?

We had been married for three years, yet my husband, Richard Thornton, who suffered from touch deprivation syndrome, still refused to consummate our marriage. Every time his condition flared up, he would only press his forehead tightly against the curve of my neck. I assumed he was saving himself for his first love, the woman who had left years ago. Then, I overheard him talking to his friends. "Stop teasing her next time. It makes her tense up every time." "Got it, Richard. But if you care about Valeria so much, why won't you touch her? It's been three years. Aren't you worried she'll leave you for someone else?" Richard shook his head. "You don't understand. The longer we're together, the harder it is to control myself around her. She's so delicate. I'm terrified I'll hurt her. As long as she's mine, I wouldn't care even if she slept with someone else first." His friends burst out laughing. "Richard, you're all talk. If you could really handle her being with another man, you wouldn't keep running to the hospital. You think we don't know what you're up to?" The next day, I found Richard's medical records. Visit after visit, he kept asking the same question, "How can I be gentler in bed? I don't want to hurt the woman I love."