Plot Twists Romance 단편 소설 & Homewrecker Revenge 소설

After my sister-in-law, Isabella Sinclair, gives birth to my niece, my older brother, Lucas Donovan, runs off with my wealthy girlfriend. Furious, I decide to take advantage of the fact that Lucas and I look alike. I go to Isabella's bedroom and knock on the door, vowing to make her and their child pay under the guise of my brother. Ten years later, Lucas returns. Looking at the happy little girl I had helped raise and the increasingly successful career Isabella has built, he sneers coldly, "I've brought your girlfriend back to you. Now, it's time for you to give me back the family you took from me." By now, that once-rich ex-girlfriend of mine, Chloe Montgomery, has already lost her entire fortune. Lucas presses me, "If you refuse, I'll tell everyone about how you plotted to seduce Isabella!" Gritting my teeth, I give in. That night, I book a flight and take a cab to the airport. In the back seat, sitting on my lap, Isabella says, "I'm much better than that woman. Why not give me a try?"

We can't settle on our holiday plans, so my girlfriend, Janine Simpson, starts a group chat with the three of us. "Let's roll the dice. Whoever gets the highest number decides. That's the fairest way." My friend, Mitchell Stone, rolls a six and wants to go to Marisport. I roll a one. I wanted to go to Rosemont. Rosemont isn't a random pick. It's the place my late mother had always wanted to visit but never got the chance to. This year marks five years since she passed away, and I've promised her I would see Lake Azure for her. Janine knew that, too. Three months ago, she held my hand and promised she would go with me this year. "Fair's fair. You lost the bet." She sends a little pat-on-the-head sticker in the group chat. This is the 27th time this year that I've rolled a one. The week before, I'd lost when we were choosing a restaurant for our team dinner. The week before that, it was a movie. Then yesterday, I used Janine's tablet to look up travel guides and accidentally came across her synced text messages. Her chat with a friend sat right at the top. "I sent you the dice plugin. It can roll whatever number you want." "Thanks. Cameron can get quite stubborn. This is the only way to get him to agree to things." I stared at those messages for a long time and placed the tablet back where I found it. She has known all along what Rosemont meant to me, and it turns out I haven't been losing because of sheer bad luck. I've been losing because she has already taken someone else's side. I leave the group chat and book a direct flight to Rosemont. On the first day of the holiday at 7:00 am, I will board the plane alone.

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.

On the third night of my business trip out of state, I scrolled past a video of my wife locking lips with my best friend at a music festival. Jack Wilson and I had been brothers for twenty years. The day I married Emily, he cried like a baby and swore he'd give up everything he had if it meant I'd be happy for the rest of my life. But tonight, my best friend and my wife proved that promises don't mean a damn thing. After a few minutes of silence, I called Jack. "Hey, you end up catching that Bruce Springsteen show? Heard the production was insane." He paused. Then, casual as ever: "Yeah, it looked good. Saw some clips online." "Too bad you weren't there, though. Kinda boring going alone. When you getting back? We'll catch the next one together." I said sure. Hung up. Caught the next red-eye straight to his apartment. They took everything I gave them—my loyalty, my trust, my love. Now I'm going to take everything they have.

My childhood crush's first night is put up for auction after her family goes bankrupt. Instead of paying an exorbitant amount of money to save her from her predicament, I choose to remain on the sidelines and do nothing. Later, I also call off our engagement and move abroad. I act this way because, in our past life, she assumes that I'm expecting her to repay me after I save her. She gives me the cold shoulder for years after we get married, but she gives birth to a pair of twins who belong to her first love. She even allows her twins to poison me. The four of them stand before me when I'm lying on my deathbed. "Our family can finally reunite." My heart burns with hatred when I take my last breath. When I'm given another chance at life, I decide to leave before they can hurt me, fulfilling their wishes.

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.

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.

On my daughter, Arlene Bale's tenth birthday, I miscarried in a horrific car accident. Before I can even tell my husband, Camden Bale, about my pregnancy, my unborn child has already left me. Devastated, I attempt to call Camden. But after spamming more than a dozen calls, none of them get answered. When I open a social media app, the first thing I see is Camden's first love, Ruth Carroll, celebrating her safe delivery online. The accompanying photo features Camden's tender-looking side profile as he cradles the newborn in his arms. Camden's mother, Patricia Stone, even leaves a long comment there to celebrate the birth of Ruth's baby. "Oh, Ruth! You really are a hero to the Bales! To think that your firstborn is a son who can inherit our family's legacy! That woman who has married into our family for ten years only gave birth to one inferior spawn! "I swear, I will kick that useless woman out sooner or later! Once that happens, you can marry into the Bale family proudly!" With trembling fingers, I click the phone shut. After that, I forcibly get discharged from the hospital and rush home so that I can demand for answers. But that's when my nightmare has just begun. I receive the news of Arlene's unfortunate death. It turns out Camden has left Arlene at home all by herself, which leads to her accidental death. The entire Bale family is too busy celebrating the birth of Ruth's son. No one bothers shedding a tear for Arlene's passing. With hatred brimming in my heart, I fly to another country. Camden Bale, you're the one hurting me from the start till the end. I will make you and your family pay the heavy price.

Three years into my marriage to Vivian Rhodes, I've suffered three separate accidents. In the first year, my art studio mysteriously catches fire, and a falling easel crushes both of my hands. In the second year, I am involved in a car accident that damages my reproductive system, leaving me infertile. In the third year, I am attacked and suffer a severe head injury. When I wake up, I develop serious vision problems. The doctor tells me that my corneas are severely damaged and infected. To save my life, they have to remove one of my eyes. Devastated, I chase the doctors and nurses out of my room and flee from the hospital. But then I overhear my wife talking to her best friend, Hailey Dawson. "Vivian, you ruined Julian's hands and made him infertile for Andrew. Now you're working with the doctor to deceive him and take his eye. If Julian finds out, he'll hate you." Vivian's expression darkens, but her voice remains firm. "If Julian can still paint, Andy will never win any award. And I promise Andy that all my love and everything I own will go to Cece. So I can only have one child. Only by making Julian blind can I bring Cece home without arousing suspicion. She looks so much like me." So the happy marriage I think I have is nothing but a carefully constructed lie. All three "accidents" over the past three years are her doing. I can no longer accept a marriage that has cost me my life.

After being reborn, I secretly switch the man I want to marry the most to the useless scion who loves flirting with me that lives next door. My dad, who's a high-ranking military colonel, is quite surprised by my choice, but he respects my wishes. In my past life, when Dad asked who I liked the most in the entire neighborhood, I had written down Damian Conrad's name. He nodded and told me, "This man has contributed greatly to the country despite only joining the army for three years. His future will definitely be a bright one. "A man as just and fair as him will undoubtedly be a good man who takes good care of his family and stays devoted to them." Dad immediately arranged for the two families to meet. Everyone thought that it was a rare and fated union. Our wedding was very grand and high-profile. Most of the people living in the military base came over to celebrate our wedding. But Damian set off for the frontier half a year after our marriage, with the excuse of wanting to contribute to the country. Not only did he leave me behind to take care of my in-laws on my own, but he also cut off all contact with me when Dad was severely ill. When I was finally done dealing with Dad's funeral matters, all I received was the bad news of Damian's death at the frontier. Crushed by the devastation and despair of the news, I fell into severe depression. Soon, I took my own life by jumping off the building. After my death, my soul refused to fade away at all. 40 years later, an elderly man and woman with graying hair showed up before my grave. With an arm around Heidi Myers' waist, Damian paid his respects to me at my grave. "It's my fault for lying to you back then, Carla. But Heidi doesn't have much time to live, so I can resort to desperate measures. Please let everything go and stop pestering her, Carla. If you really are resentful, feel free to come at me instead." It turns out that Damian loved Heidi this much that he was willing to fake his death just to trick me. But at the same time, they were so superstitious that they thought I was the one pestering Heidi, causing her to be afflicted with a terminal cancer. Now that I found out about the truth, I finally let my obsession go. When I open my eyes again, I realize I've returned to the day Dad asks me who I want to marry the most.

After I buy a house with my dad's inheritance, my girlfriend, Claire Dickson—who's also an interior designer—handles the renovation. Upon moving in, I realize she gives her three childhood friends, Terry Boyle, Mark Sullivan, and Wayne Tucker, permanent fingerprint access. Meanwhile, I, the actual owner, am given only a temporary passcode. "We grew up together," she says. "They're practically family." Later, my study becomes Terry's livestreaming room, the patio fills with things they like, and the entryway has only four pairs of matching slippers. On my birthday, I work late into the night, only to find that my temporary passcode has expired. Through the window, I watch them celebrating Terry's birthday in my home. Claire refuses to let me in. "Everyone's having a good time. Just stay at a hotel tonight. Don't ruin the mood." I walk away without knocking again. The next day, I put the house on the market. They forget one thing—having permanent access doesn't mean it's their home.

My sister, Vivian Richmond, is celebrating her birthday with the rest of the family while I lie trapped in an abandoned factory, bleeding heavily. She's hired four thugs to torture me, and they've left me fighting for my life. I crawl toward my phone with what little strength I have left. When I finally reach it, I call my husband, Ethan Monroe. "Ethan, I'm seriously injured. Come save me now… I'm at the factory nearby. It won't take much of your time…" He scoffs at my weak, desperate voice. "Sienna, whining won't get you anywhere. Are you playing the victim now?" he says. "You'll stop at nothing to ruin Vivian's birthday party, huh? Hurry back with a gift and apologize to her, or I won't go easy on you this time." Before I can speak, I hear Vivian calling his name over the line. Ethan has no idea that the moment the call ends, I no longer need his forgiveness. He doesn't know that the foul, rotting corpse that makes even an experienced forensic pathologist like him recoil in disgust belongs to the wife he's hated for years.

After going through an abrupt breakup, I buy an AI companion. It can read my emotions and remembers everything I say. It can even mimic my ex-girlfriend Angelina Wilson's intonation. It's like a real person. The AI companion's system updates itself again in the middle of the night. I'm groggy when I wake up, but I notice that the notification light is flashing rapidly. I hear a faint buzzing noise when I move closer. The AI companion is speaking. "Help me. I'm trapped in here." I'm stunned. The voice clearly belongs to Angelina.

At the final meeting before the company's IPO, my wife, who was supposed to give the presentation, was absent. I called her multiple times, but she never answered. Because of her absence, the company lost the bid and became the laughingstock of the industry. Right at that moment, her male best friend uploaded a new post. "It's just a cold. Look at how worried she is." I clicked on it. There was my wife, whom I hadn't seen in days, crouched beside him, fawning over him as she gave him his medicine. I was utterly disappointed. In that moment, the five years we had spent together vanished completely.

After an extreme dust storm swallowed half the mall, I was searching for my missing daughter when I received a call from Evelyn Mercer five years in the future. [Ryan, you have to do exactly what I say. I'm the only one who can save my little girl.] Without hesitating, I led the rescue team to the collapsed section she named. Sure enough, I heard a weak child's voice. I shouted in relief, "Thank God for you, Evelyn! I found her!" Evelyn laughed softly. [That's right. I came back to fix a regret.] But when the rescue crew lifted the concrete slab, the child they pulled out was not my daughter. It was the daughter of Evelyn's childhood sweetheart, Marcus Hale. I froze. Evelyn, however, sounded relieved. [Five years ago, Marcus lost his daughter and nearly broke. After that, he only had me. That night, we ended up together.] [I'm sorry, Ryan. I came back to fix Marcus's regret.] [Our daughter is buried on the other side of the mall. Hurry. Go save her.] When I rushed back, Evelyn's future voice was smug. [Well? Was she there?] I looked at my daughter's body, already cold and breathless. Then I clenched my fist and hung up.

On our wedding anniversary, I took my wife, Kacey Winston, and our daughter, Aimee Fitz, on a cruise. However, Kacey secretly brought her childhood sweetheart along as well. There was a shipwreck, and Kacey stole the lifeboat I found and took it for herself. She had no regard for my survival and focused only on helping her lover escape. Aimee cried hard and held onto Kacey’s pant leg while begging her. “Save Dad, Mom! Save him!” Kacey kicked Aimee into the sea with hatred in her eyes. “If you don’t want to come with me, die with that useless piece of trash!” When we both ended up on a deserted island, we already found Kacey and Saddler there. I found out about their plot to have me killed. I felt uneasy, and hatred spread through me. For all their plotting for money, it would depend on whether they got off this island alive.

On the night Wynnie Moore is done recovering from childbirth, she suddenly brings up the traumatic nightmare that I never wish to revisit. "Actually, the person who imprisoned and assaulted you five years ago was Margaret Silva." Margaret is Logan Jameson's wife, and Logan is the adopted younger brother she raised. My mind goes blank as I blurt, "What?" Wynnie continues as if she's discussing something insignificant. "Back then, Logan found out he was infertile. His mother-in-law never liked him to begin with. To help him secure his position in the Silva family, I agreed to his proposal that you would provide the sperm. "Meanwhile, Margaret had always harbored feelings for you. So..." It turns out the three of them have worked together to imprison and assault me over the course of a few days until Margaret becomes pregnant. I try hard to suppress the nauseous sensation rising in the back of my throat. My lips tremble as I ask shakily, "Why are you telling me this now?" Wynnie lets out a long sigh, as if a burden she's carried for years has finally been lifted. She says, "I've been keeping this a secret for five years. It's exhausting. Also, I've already made up for the child that I once owed you. They say a man takes on a much softer character after becoming a father. Well, that certainly seems to be the case. "You're not losing your temper like you used to. You've finally become calmer and more agreeable." I force a strained and ugly smile. She has no idea that I haven't mellowed down the slightest. It's just that I have a secret that I've never revealed to her too.

My younger brother, Luke, committed suicide after being falsely accused of plagiarizing Layla's brother's music. My own life was a living hell. I was a respected music critic, but now I was the sister of "the plagiarist." My reputation was in tatters. My colleagues whispered behind my back, and my articles were dismissed as the ramblings of a biased, grieving relative. The one person who had always stood by me was my husband, Julian, a successful music producer. We had been together since college, and he was my rock, my refuge in the storm. I thought he would believe me. But, he didn't. But the real betrayal came the evening, just another day of being ridiculed online, I came home to find Julian on the phone. His voice was low and urgent, laced with a coldness I had never heard before. "The case is closed, Layla. It’s over," he said. "The evidence has been submitted. No one will ever know that it was your brother who plagiarized Luke's music."

My husband, an Army regimental commander, was killed in action. Before his body was even cold, I didn't hesitate. I filed for his death certificate and notified the Army, the Social Security Administration, and our bank. Then, three days later—on the very day his twin brother married his childhood sweetheart—I moved out, changed the locks, and remarried quietly at the courthouse, taking my son and the full line-of-duty death benefits with me. To everyone else, I was heartless. Cold. I let them curse me. I just looked into my “brother-in-law's” bloodshot eyes and felt a quiet, cruel satisfaction. Only I knew the truth. In my last life, I discovered the body sent home wasn't my husband's at all—it was his identical twin brother's. I ran to confront him, but by chance I overheard him and my mother-in-law whispering. "Mom, Sarah is strong. And we have our son. She'll be okay. The benefits will take care of her. But Amy has waited for my brother all these years. If she finds out he's dead, she might do something drastic." Their words struck me like lightning. I tried to expose them, but my husband knocked me out. He told everyone grief had driven me insane. He locked me in the garage apartment and, with cold detachment, married his sweetheart. And when that woman complained my son was too loud, my husband slipped sleeping pills into our boy's juice—right as my crying child was coming to look for me. My son never woke up. The day they buried him hastily, I ended my life in the garage, utterly broken. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day they delivered my brother-in-law's body to our home.

After another trip to the ER for a bleeding ulcer, I found a flower order in Lily Marshall's phone. The recipient wasn't me. I switched off the screen without a word. No shouting, no scene. Lily glanced at me and gave a soft laugh. "My husband really is the understanding type." She grabbed her coat off the couch and headed for the door. "Josh just got off work. I need to go pick him up." Josh Segel was a college kid barely out of school, the fifth lover Lily had taken since we married. I kept my voice level. "Go ahead. But we're getting a divorce." She barely registered it, too anxious to care. "Josh gets lost on his own. If I don't go, he'll cry." "So because he'll cry, you're walking out on your own husband?" "Don't start, Neil." She sighed, out of patience, and turned to pat my shoulder. "He's young. His feelings are delicate. You're the steady and mature one. Don't put yourself in the same league as him." "And if I stopped being so mature and tried to stop you?" Her eyes went cold. "Go ahead and try. But think it through first. Without this marriage, what are you going to pay for your treatment with?" I managed a bitter smile, took out my phone, and sent a message to her father with her watching. [I agree to the divorce.]