Plot Twists Romance Short Stories & Face Slapping Novels

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.

At the World Rally Championship Final, my fiancee, Brielle Fuller, deliberately gave me the wrong turn call. Because of her, I lost the championship. Right there on the spot, she called off our engagement and ran straight into the arms of my rival, Chase Monroe. Just when I thought I'd lost everything, my childhood friend, Naomi Sutton, proposed to me. "It's okay. To me, you'll always be number one." Seven years later, I rebuilt my career and fought my way back to the top. Just as I was preparing to break Chase's championship record, a brake failure sent my car plunging off a mountainside. While drifting in and out of consciousness at the hospital, I overheard a conversation outside my room. "You're ruthless. You actually did something like this. Weren't you afraid he might die?" "If he dies, so be it. The only person I've ever loved is Chase. I only regret that you married him before I could. Otherwise I wouldn't have had to put myself through that all these years." I stared wide-eyed into the darkness. The love I thought was so deep was nothing more than wishful thinking. If they cared so much about Chase, then maybe I should disappear.

The day I was acknowledged as the real Sinclair heiress, Moon Sinclair, the fake heiress, stood before me with tears in her eyes and said she wanted to give the engagement back to me. I placed a hand over my stomach. I had only recently found out that I was pregnant. I said softly, “I don’t need it. I already have feelings for someone.” As soon as the words left my mouth, several lines of text suddenly appeared before my eyes. [This is hilarious. The so-called villain is turning down the engagement so confidently right now. Just wait until she sees the male lead. She’ll regret it immediately.] [But the male lead will still choose the heroine, the fake heiress. The villain will use her pregnancy to cling to him and refuse to let go.] [The heroine will eventually be driven to slash her wrists. Everyone in the family will despise the villain, and the male lead will hate her too. In the end, she and her baby will both die during childbirth.] I lowered my gaze. The whole thing felt absurd. How could I become obsessed with a man I had never even met? At that moment, I heard footsteps behind me. Moon wiped away her tears and hurried over. “Cameron, this is my sister. This engagement should have been hers from the beginning.” I turned around and met a pair of familiar eyes. He was the man who had supported me for the past five years. He was also the father of the baby in my womb.

To give my wife a sense of security, I stepped back once the company was on track and took over things at home. In ten years, Adeline Hemsley had never brought me to a single company gala. When the tenth anniversary celebration was announced at a five-star hotel, I finally asked if I could come with her. She was slipping into a pair of heels, not even looking in my direction. "You're my husband. If you show up, people won't feel comfortable." Before leaving, she leaned down and gave me a quick kiss. "Be good. Once this busy stretch is over, we'll take Cole to Silver Coast." The door clicked shut. I stood there for a long moment, staring at the Legos and picture books scattered across the floor. A familiar heaviness settled in my chest. Our three-year-old came running over, holding up a black phone. "Dad! Mom forgot her phone!" I hesitated. This wasn't the one she normally used. The moment my fingers brushed the screen, a message preview popped up. [Babe, I picked out a suit for the gala. It's only 6,000. You’ll get it for me, right?]

“Have you decided, Alara?” Mason Whitmore slid the agreement across his desk. “Of my four sons, which one will you choose?” Ten years ago, I saved his life. He brought me into the Whitmore family and made me a promise: when I turned eighteen, I could choose one of his sons as my fiancé. The man I chose would inherit the Whitmore company. Everyone thought I would choose Ethan. He was Mason’s eldest son, a champion race car driver, and the boy I had loved for years. Then I heard him tell Jenny: “Alara was never my choice. I only said I’d marry her to keep my father happy.” So I made my decision. Not Ethan. Not Julian. Not Ryan. I would choose the son they all ignored. Noah Whitmore. The one in the wheelchair.

After my son was abducted, my husband took me to an adoption center to bring home a baby boy born the same year as the child we'd lost. I poured every ounce of love I had into raising him. He had a sensitive stomach, so I pushed through my chronic back pain to cook him special meals every single day. When he spiked a fever in the middle of the night, I carried him twenty miles through the rain to the nearest hospital. When he couldn't focus in school, I was constantly at his classroom door, flattering his teachers and bringing them gifts, just to get them to pay a little extra attention to him. Fifteen years of grinding sacrifice, and it all came down to one moment at his college acceptance party. "I couldn't have gotten into Harvard without my mother's love and hard work," he said into the microphone. He raised his glass, eyes drifting toward where I was sitting. The cameras flashed as I started to rise from my seat, matching his silent lip movements. And then I heard a name I didn't expect. "She is Rachel Lynch." I froze. That was my best friend's name.

I had already bought the house we were supposed to build our future in, and over the years, I had carefully set aside a substantial wedding fund. I could not wait to spend the rest of my life with my girlfriend, Jeannie Cooperd. Jeannie had always seemed delicate and timid. Even a simple remark would leave her eyes red with tears. For two years, I spoiled her shamelessly, giving in to her every whim. Every plan I made, every dollar I saved, and every dream I held revolved around our wedding and the life we would share together. Then, I received the kidney compatibility report. The moment I saw the results, my heart turned icy. The woman who normally shrank from pain was now gripping my shoulders with surprising strength, determined to push me toward the operating room. "You're healthy! What's the big deal about living with one kidney?" she cried. "Elliot is dying!" Elliot. The name alone was enough. He was the first love she had never truly let go of, the one she had kept hidden in the deepest corner of her heart. Just yesterday, he was diagnosed with complete kidney failure. To pay for his treatment and cover the debts he had accumulated, Jeannie secretly canceled our wedding, drained every cent from the wedding fund and savings we had built together, and poured it all into Elliot's medical bills and endless financial problems. That was not enough. With sweet words and carefully crafted lies, she coaxed me into coming to the hospital and persuaded me to undergo compatibility testing.

Ten minutes before the IPO, my lower body started burning with intense pain. The pain was so bad that my knees buckled and I fell from the stairs on the third floor. I hit my forehead, which started bleeding, and fresh blood dripped into my eyes. As I convulsed on the ground, my hands covered my crotch as my skin felt like it was being fried in boiling oil. My fiancée, Yvette James, came over in her high heels and kicked me in the thigh. "What's with all the pretense? It's just half a bottle of ointment poured down your pants." Her bestie, Henry Curtis, had his phone held toward me as he livestreamed the situation. He was bent over from laughing too hard. "Check this out, fam! This penniless loser is burning from the waist down! It's too funny!" I could hardly breathe from the pain, and I begged Yvette to get me an ambulance. Yvette rolled her eyes and pushed the camera into my face. "Henry is targeting 100,000 viewers for this live stream! Can you scream louder? Don't be a buzzkill! That thing between your legs is just like a toothpick. That ointment might give you a growth spurt, so you should thank me for it." My lower body had gone numb from the pain, and I saw the comments section ridiculing me. I stopped begging for help as I stared coldly at Yvette while giving the orders to pull her funds. "The wedding is off. Be prepared for your company's bankruptcy."

On the last day of the long weekend, my childhood best friend asked to borrow my half-million-dollar Porsche so he could drive out to the next town over and meet some girl he had been set up with. We went way back, so I did not just fill up the tank for him. I went ahead and tossed a box of condoms in the glovebox too. Then my phone buzzed. The dashcam was still synced to my account, and my wife's voice came through the live feed. "Babe, I can't believe you actually took that idiot's car to drive us to a motel on the toll-free highway. This is so hot." I stood there and felt the ground drop out from under me. The "blind date" my best friend had gone to meet was my wife, the woman I had married less than three months ago. "You two love free rides that much? Then stay on that highway forever." I opened the Porsche's remote vehicle management app and typed in a single command. "Auto-lock all doors by midnight. Kill all power." Right then, they were cruising down an icy mountain expressway at 10,000 feet, and the temperature was dropping fast. Midnight was only minutes away.

To help my husband, Ryan Whitaker, compete for the director position, I spend an entire month securing the sale of a luxury apartment worth tens of millions of dollars. On the day the contract is signed, Ryan hands the primary contract to Lucinda Brooks, a new employee who has just joined the company. When I demand an explanation, his eyes flicker with guilt. Still, he argues, "Lucinda studied abroad. She is more academically accomplished than you, and her Iridian is better. The client happens to have a foreign business partner, so it'll be smoother if she takes the lead on the signing." As he speaks, he wraps an arm around my shoulders, expecting me to compromise like I always do. But this time, I don't smile but continue to pull a long face. That very afternoon, I submit my resignation letter and hand over every core client under my management. Ryan is furious as he tears up the resignation letter and mocks me. "When I married you, I didn't even care that you only graduated from high school. Why are you picking a fight with a newcomer now?" I laugh. It's true that I don't have an impressive educational background, but he's forgotten one most crucial thing. I didn't earn my title as the company's sales champion through academic credentials.

When we try to get our marriage registered for the 18th time, Derek Hubbard has forgotten to bring his ID again. The thing is, I reminded him to bring his ID three times last night. He told me, "Got it. This time, I'm definitely marrying you. There won't be a problem throughout the registration." But as soon as we arrive at the city hall, Derek searches through his pockets. In the end, he calls Lessie Davenport with a frown. "Lessie, did I leave my ID with you?" As I sit in the waiting area, I suddenly let out a soft chuckle. Half an hour later, Lessie arrives at the city hall. She hands the ID over to Derek with red-rimmed eyes. "My stomach hurts a lot, Derek…" Derek's expression changes drastically. He quickly supports her and steers her toward the exit. "Wait for me here, Celine. I'll be back soon." I nod in response while watching Derek walk away from me, just like how he did for the past 17 times. When Derek's silhouette disappears, I dig out my phone and send a text message to someone else. "Are you here yet?" Three minutes later, a man walks into the city hall. He hands both of our IDs through the hole in the counter. "Hi, we're here to register our marriage."

After visiting Grandpa at the care home, I got a text from my boyfriend, Lucas Mercer. “Sofia, come to the office tomorrow at ten. I’ve got a surprise for you.” I thought of the proposal plan I’d spotted on his laptop. I smiled to myself and booked the first available flight. But when I walked into that office, I froze. Lucas was down on one knee, holding out a diamond ring to my cousin, Ashley. Ten years ago, she’d hired someone to drive a car into my parents and kill them. Then she’d trapped me in the fire that followed. “Ashley, I’ve been practicing for five years. Will you marry me?” His eyes were full of nothing but her. I dug my nails into my palm. This year also happened to be the fifth year Lucas and I had been together. “Yes.” Ashley smiled and produced a document. “Since you’ve been loyal to me for five years, my father decided to throw in an extra five million as a bonus!” The room erupted. I stood there watching the celebration. The Harlow Group investment agreement I’d been holding was now a crumpled ball of paper in my fist. I turned and dropped it in the trash, then called my assistant. “Lucas Mercer. Cut him. Pull up the updated list of fiancé candidates.” Ashley had no idea I’d already returned to the Harlow family as the heir apparent. Lucas had no idea that by chasing five million, he’d just walked away from fifty.

While my wife was away on a business trip, I took a detour and ran into a wedding procession blocking the road. The groom was giving a speech, his voice trembling as it rose with every sentence. He wanted to tell his late parents that he had finally married the girl of his dreams. A crowd had gathered around them, cheering him on and blocking traffic. The scene was very moving. Even though I was in a hurry, I stopped and waited for the procession to pass. Then, someone in the crowd shouted, "Sinead, you have to treat him well from now on." The bride made a sweet vow. "If I ever hurt or mistreat him, then I've gone against everything I believe in. If we're not meant to be, I'd rather remain alone, because he'll always be the only man I've ever loved." Sinead… What a coincidence! That was my wife's name, too! Even her voice sounded a little like hers. The two of them were almost sickeningly sweet together, and the crowd kept cheering. The groom bowed gratefully. Finally, everyone moved aside, and I could drive past. Only then did I see the bride clearly. It was my wife. And she had seen me, too. Her business trip had actually been a trip to marry another man.

I've been in a long-distance relationship with Megan Mitchell for five years. For her sake, I'm willing to work in the Calystron branch of her company the whole time. But I have yet to gain the opportunity to get transferred to the HQ located in Helmont even though five years have already passed. A position is finally freed up, yet Edward Moore, a low-income student who has just gotten hired by the company, gets it immediately. Out of fury, I turn in my resignation letter. Megan, who has always been refined and composed, flies all the way to Calystron just to convince me to stay. "Edward's family is suffering from financial difficulties. It's very difficult for him to find a job, you know. I've sponsored his tertiary education for the past five years, so I'm obligated to take his future into consideration. "Besides, the Calystron branch needs you, Zachary. You're my strongest support, after all." Warmth floods into my heart. That's when I retract my resignation letter. Later on, I have to head over to the courthouse to renew my marriage license due to work requirements. But the staff member glances at my copy of the marriage license before lashing out at me angrily. "No matter how realistic a forged marriage certificate is, it's still a fake copy at the end of the day! Even if you're oblivious to the law, you still have to bear the consequences of breaking it! "Your so-called spouse, Ms. Megan Mitchell, has already registered her marriage in Helmont! Her husband is Edward Moore!" I remain rooted to the spot. My copy of the marriage license soon slides through my fingertips and flutters to the floor. Everyone in the company knows that Edward is Megan's capable assistant, whom she always talks about. I, on the other hand, am just someone who does the grunt work for free.

Thanks to the paparazzi sneakily taking a photo of Caitlin Randall in her swimwear, she's been rated as the most perfect woman in Lunbury for seven years in a row. Countless men who wish to bed her can line up to the moon and back. The thing is, everyone knows that Caitlin only favors me, the deaf man who stays by her side all the time. When I was 18, I blew out my eardrums when I was saving Caitlin from danger. Since then, I can no longer hear the sounds and voices coming from the external world. Whenever we're passionately entangled with each other in bed, Caitlin will always kiss my ears with red-rimmed eyes. But I can never hear what she tells me every time. That is, until the night of Caitlin's birthday, when she blindfolds me and tells me that she wants to play a game. That's when I can finally hear her voice. "Let's play something spicy, Terry." Caitlin ties me up and convinces me to drink some alcohol. When the lashing heat pooling in my gut threatens to break me down, I'm so close to telling the truth to Caitlin—that my hearing is restored. "Ms. Randall, the people and the tools are ready. Are you sure you want to do this to Mr. Boyer?" When I hear the robotic voice coming from Caitlin's earpiece, I freeze up immediately. But at that moment, she has already injected me with a dose of sedatives. "Be a good boy, Terry. Everything will still be fine when you're asleep."

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".

On my ninety-ninth rebirth, I stopped fighting with the real heiress, Lily Hart. I accepted every false accusation she threw at me and let my relationships with my two childhood friends fall apart. I told myself it was fine. At least Wayne Fall was still on my side. That lasted until Lily's birthday gala, when her gown suddenly slipped and nearly left her exposed in front of everyone. Wayne pulled her into his arms and, for the first time, turned his anger on me. "Do you even remember who you are? You're not a Hart by blood. What makes you think you can compete with Lily?" What he didn't know was that every time I tried to expose Lily, everyone I cared about died in horrifying ways. In the first life, my childhood friend, Adrian Cole, was crushed beneath a freight truck, his skull shattered. In the second, my cousin, Ryan Hayes, fell from a skyscraper and was torn apart on impact. In the third, my fiancé, Wayne, was trapped in a blazing fire and burned alive... Adrian and Ryan threw me into the estate's artificial lake. I couldn't swim. Water flooded my lungs until tears streamed down my face, but no matter how desperately I begged for help, neither of them reacted. By the time my consciousness finally faded away, someone dragged me out of the water. Then I heard them talking. "Looks like she's finally learned her lesson. At least you won't have to keep hypnotizing her anymore, Wayne. I was starting to worry all those pills would fry her brain." "There'll definitely be some cognitive damage... But we didn't have a choice. Lily's the Harts' real daughter. If she refused to give in, she'd end up being pushed out of the family sooner or later." So, the countless "rebirths" I'd experienced were nothing more than an illusion. I'd simply been hypnotized. But I never needed to cling to a place in the Hart family. I had a family of my own too.

Just because I accidentally broke my adopted sister’s bracelet, my brother threw me into the black market to “learn my lesson.” By the time I was rescued, I had been tortured so brutally that I was barely recognizable. It was Elijah York who risked his own life to pull me out of that hellhole. When we finally escaped, his blood had soaked my clothes, yet he held me tightly against his chest and whispered that he would never regret it. For three years after that, I drifted between moments of clarity and bouts of pure madness. I despised myself, constantly feeling dirty and broken, but Elijah always treated me like a princess. Until this day, my mind was, for once, clear. Caressing the tiny new life I had just discovered growing inside my womb, I was overflowing with joy as I hurried to surprise him. However, right outside his office door, I overheard a conversation between him and my brother. “Did you actually catch feelings after playing a part for so long? Don’t forget that in three months, it will be the optimal window for Chloe’s bone marrow transplant.” Elijah let out a low, amused scoff, his tone indifferent. “I’ve been drugging Nora for three years. Everyone thinks she’s completely lost her mind by now. Legally, she is my wife, and I hold full guardianship over her. That’s the only way the bone marrow extraction process remains completely legal and compliant.” I froze right where I stood, the blood freezing in my veins.

Four years of secretly living with Joshua Horton behind our parents' backs. Then a new sticky note showed up on our wish wall. [After living with Nellie all these years, I'm trapped. Marrying her is just a way to make our mess look legit. If I could do it over, I never would've moved in.] Signed: [Joshua] But the date was six years from now. Joshua had put up that wall himself the day we moved in. Over the years, I'd covered it with tiny wishes. He'd made every one come true. Only two notes were his. The first said: [When we graduate, I'm marrying you! Nellie, you have to stay with me!] He wrote that four years ago. The other came from six years in the future. Graduation was one week away. Out of those two promises, I could only help him keep one.

On my first day at a new hospital, I treated a pregnant woman in critical condition. With the nurses’ help, we stabilized her condition and safely delivered her baby. As soon as she could speak, she reached for her phone. Her voice was filled with pride as she said, “Honey, I gave birth to a son!” The voice that came through the speaker made me freeze. “Baby, you’re amazing!” Those few words were enough to send me spiraling into despair. I had known that voice for ten years. It belonged to my husband, Liam Stretton.