Plot Twists Romance Short Stories & Hypocrisy Face Slapping Novels

I'd lost count of how many times Ethan had turned me down when I asked to stay the night at his place. "Ethan, you're no fun at all." I grumbled. The day before, I'd noticed someone had left a mark by my front door, the kind that flags a woman living alone. It scared me, so I went to Ethan and asked if I could crash at his place for a few days. He said no. "I'll book you a hotel room for tonight." When he saw I was upset, he softened. "I just don't want to give up my own space this soon." "Give me a little time to get used to the idea, okay?" Three years together, and no matter how late our dates ran, he always drove me home. He never once asked me to stay. I wasn't happy about it, but I nodded and let it go. It wasn't that late yet, so I suggested we catch the new movie that had just come out. Ethan checked the time instead and hurried me off to the hotel, a little on edge. Alone in the room, I happened to scroll past the social media of a new coworker. "AC's broken at my place. Thank God I've got someone to run to, or I'd melt." The photo behind the caption showed the TV wall in Ethan's living room. My stomach dropped. I stared at the picture for a long time. By the time I came back to myself, my face was wet with tears. Then I slid off the engagement ring Ethan had given me. A love with something rotten stirred into it wasn't a love I wanted anymore.

In the third year of his remarriage with his childhood friend, Charlotte Davidson, Henry Fowler attends an inconspicuous college reunion, where he stumbles upon a secret about Charlotte. Gavin Redfield, the campus heartthrob, swirls his wine glass in a drunken stupor. Someone asks him, "What's the most thrilling thing you've ever done in your life?" His eyes are glazed over as he answers in a provocative tone, "Becoming the lover of Charlotte, the renowned Ms. Davidson, of course! Her husband is such a moron. He thinks we already broke up! "But in reality, we already have a child together. I get to live in her villa, drive her limited edition supercar, spend her money, and order her maids around!" As soon as he finished speaking, all hell breaks loose. Everyone turns to look at Henry, eager to see him lose his composure. After all, he is Charlotte's legal husband. However, Henry doesn't budge an inch, nor does he make a fuss about it. Even when the waiter is pouring him some wine, he seems unaffected as he thanks the waiter. Not long after the reunion ends, everyone realizes something is off about him…

Andy Bennett had been my husband for ten years. And yeah, we were stupid in love. Lately, though, he'd gotten weirdly obsessed with some game on his phone. Every night, it buzzed nonstop. "It's new. The vibration setting is insanely relaxing." I bought it. I even got him blue-light glasses and wrist supports because he worked crazy hours and was always stressed. If a game helped him chill, fine by me. Then one night, he left his phone on the counter while he showered. It buzzed again. The screen lit up. No game. It was an app for a sex toy. A giant control wheel sat in the middle. [Remote Control] [Couple Mode] [Synchronized Vibration] Then a request popped up. [Invited by: Eunice Seaton.] My daughter's piano teacher.

At the scene of a massive chain-collision accident, my police officer fiancé was being interviewed by the media. Facing the public’s praise for being “selfless and just”, he calmly stated that prioritizing the rescue of the female officer trainee riding in the same car was merely a police officer's instinct. It wasn’t until the cameras turned away that he tiredly rubbed his temple. He turned his head and asked the colleague beside him in a low voice, “Where is Lea? The core area was in critical danger just now, so I had to prioritize evacuating the injured Willow. Did the other teams manage to get her out?” His colleague looked completely taken aback. “Bro, your fiancé was trapped right there in your passenger seat! When everyone saw you carrying Willow out, we all assumed you were going to turn right back around to save her…” Shawn’s expression instantly twisted into a mix of fury and shock. Yet, he forced his emotions down and said sternly, “If that’s the case… then this is simply her fate as a family member of a police officer. By sacrificing herself to save those in greater need, she died an honorable death.” Meanwhile, I was sprawled in the freezing mud and water over a dozen meters away from the wreckage of the car. Just two minutes ago, the fire had engulfed the passenger seat. In a desperate bid to survive, I had used a shard of broken glass to slice through my seatbelt with my bare hands, crawling out of the sea of fire with a fractured right leg. At that very moment, what kept me awake even more than the excruciating pain of my broken bone was the death of my heart.

When I went to return my engagement ring, the jeweler asked me why. Right in front of her, I slid it onto my finger. It caught at the second knuckle and wouldn't go any farther. "You can see for yourself. This isn't my size." The jeweler went pale and offered to resize it on the spot. I shook my head, my voice eerily calm. "You can fix the ring size. You can't fix the shoe size. And you definitely can't fix the wedding dress." Everything about my wedding to Charles Garth was mine in name only — my name was on the invitation as the bride, and that was as far as it went. Every time I asked him to come try on the dress with me, he'd keep his eyes on his laptop and answer without looking up. "I'm busy. I already know your measurements. I gave them to the boutique myself. "Just show up and be the bride. Everything's already handled." But three days before the wedding, what I got was a ring that wouldn't fit and a dress I couldn't wear. The shoes, the gloves, the garter — every single piece was sized for my best friend. Something I'd been holding onto for a long time finally gave out, and it left a hole in my chest. Charles frowned, still trying to talk me into it. "It's just a ceremony. You two are so close — would it really be so bad if Maia stood in for you at the altar?" I didn't say anything. I didn't refuse, either. I just thought — maybe it wouldn't be so bad to swap out the groom instead.

In my sixth year as a body diver, I finally tracked down my son's body. My husband had just come back from the construction site. That was when he calmly told me the truth. "Asher never died. I was the detective who lied and told you I couldn't find him. "I was also the city's richest man—the one who refused to pay your ransom to save him. "I never went bankrupt, either. Every time I told you I was off hauling bricks at some construction site, I was really just back at the mansion, hiding from the smell of the dead on your skin." It hit me like a blow to the head. I stood there, numb. My brother, Rick Forrest, was the one who spoke next. "That best friend you've been pouring your heart out to online this whole time—that was me. I'm also the one who made you think you'd gotten the kidnappers angry and gotten your son killed. "That's not all. Our parents didn't die in that kidnapping, either. The truth is, they were the kidnappers." Cold flooded through me. Not until I saw my parents standing there, alive, did the pain finally tear a sound out of me. "Why—" My parents' brows furrowed, distant. "It's because you made such a scene! You knew Valerie's position as a false heiress was already humiliating enough, and you still let her get into that car accident that left her unable to have children. "You owe her this much. As long as you stop going after Valerie, we can still be a family." I stood frozen where I was. Right as the pain peaked, a long-unheard chime sounded in my mind—the System, back after all this time. [Host, do you wish to abandon this redemption mission and leave this world?]

It had been five years since Julian threw away his status as the heir to the Young family just to be with me. Now, we were crammed into a leaky, run-down apartment, screaming at each other because we couldn’t make ends meet. The rent was one thousand five hundred dollars, our child’s medical bills were three thousand dollars, and he needed thirty thousand dollars just to smooth things over for his career. Yet, right in the middle of all this, Julian got into a fight with his boss and impulsively quit his job. I yelled at him, saying he still thought he was some high-and-mighty rich kid who refused to grow up. He just sneered at me coldly, claiming I had deliberately set a trap years ago to get pregnant and ruin his life. “If you hadn’t gotten pregnant on purpose, would I ever have ended up in a place like this?” I wanted nothing more than to slap him hard across the face. However, I remembered that last month, just to land a contract, his former business associates forced so many drinks on that once-arrogant man that he ended up with alcohol poisoning. With a quiet sigh, I accepted a fifth part-time gig from an agency, working as a clinical trial subject at a private hospital. By the time they drew my twelfth vial of blood over the course of seven days, I was so dizzy I could barely stand. However, as I finally stumbled back to our neighbourhood, I saw one of his old high school sweethearts hugging him, crying. “As long as you leave them behind, you can go back to the Young family! Why are you suffering like this? I’ve… I’ve been waiting for you this whole time.” Julian stayed silent for a moment before gently pushing her away. “She bore my child. Where else could I possibly go?” That very night, however, he came home wasted. He stumbled over, his trembling hands reaching out to choke me. “Why do I have to waste the rest of my life on you? Why couldn’t you and that sickly kid just die on the operating table?”

I had a habit. Whenever I had a meal, watched a movie, or took a cab ride, I would always save an empty seat next to me. I believed that Theo Anderson would suddenly appear in the city I lived in to surprise me. However, throughout our long-distance relationship for the past three years, he never visited me. Not even once. I hence prepared our wedding by myself, and I fell sick because of that. My hands were trembling when I sent him a text message. [I’m having a high fever, and I don’t have any medicine at home.] Half an hour later, he responded. [So? What do you want me to do? Do you want me to grow wings and fly over to your place with medicine? I’m still reviewing a proposal. You should just contact the delivery services.] I could not even lift my fingers because of the fever, so I slowly drifted into unconsciousness. When I woke up, I saw my best friend, Eleanor Reid, with teary eyes. She passed a glass of water and a pill to me. “You’re too patient with him, that’s why he’s bullying you. If it were me, I would’ve already thrown a fit.” Two weeks later, Eleanor also had a high fever, so I immediately wanted to rush over to take care of her. However, she posted a photo online, and there was a man’s hand holding a spoon in the photo. [I’m sick, but thankfully there is a knight in shining armor who flew over 500 miles to take care of me.] I recognized that hand. Theo was wearing a watch that I had bought him after saving up for six months. I suddenly understood that it was not because he was busy that he could not be by my side. It was because he did not want to come over. Since that was the case, I no longer had the need to save an empty seat for him anymore.

After his eighteenth failed attempt to divorce me, Jesse Pellam suddenly stopped bringing it up. Before that, every single attempt had ended in complete humiliation and chaos. I had harmed myself, threatened to jump from a building, and plastered the company lobby with intimate photos of him and his female assistant, Gianna Seyfert. At a press conference, I had even publicly stripped Gianna, leaving her with PTSD. Jesse had every reason to despise me; however, he never mentioned divorcing me again. He came home on time every day and gave me full access to his phone. He checked in with me every hour to update me on his whereabouts. Even during his business trips, we stayed connected through video calls around the clock. But I still could not shake the feeling that something was wrong. Every day, I pressed him for an answer, asking why he no longer wanted a divorce. “Haven’t I done enough?” he asked. Yes, he was better than ever, almost too good to be true. It was not until he caught me following him again that he finally admitted the truth. With exhaustion evident in his eyes, he said, “I received a phone call from my future self, ten years from now. He told me that if I divorced you, I would regret it.”

Lucas Harlow and I have been together for seven years, and we plan to get married next year. When I accompany him to his hometown to meet his parents, we happen to arrive just in time for his cousin Spencer Harlow's wedding. Following a local tradition, the older relatives cheerfully urge Lucas to sleep in the newlyweds' bed the night before the ceremony for good luck. Lucas' mother, Beatrice Collins, takes my hand and explains with a smile, "Katherine, I hope this doesn't make you uncomfortable. It's an old custom around here. "Before the wedding, a man who's still a virgin blesses the couple's bed by sleeping in it. It's supposed to bring the newlyweds good luck and a happy marriage." I lower my head in embarrassment, for Lucas and I are saving ourselves for our wedding night. No matter how difficult the wait has been for him over the past seven years, he's always respected that boundary and insisted on doing right by me. When I finally look up, my cheeks still burning, I see that Lucas has gone pale. Flustered and visibly uncomfortable, he frantically waves everyone off and adamantly refuses to go anywhere near the bed. "I can't do it. You're going to have to find someone else…" As I watch my boyfriend avoid everyone's gaze, my heart drops.

On the day I return to court in triumph, my fiancee, Isabel Hartwell, welcomes me at the city gates. My career is flourishing, and I'm about to marry the woman I love. As far as I'm concerned, my life can't be more perfect. A victory banquet is held in my honor. By the time I'm pleasantly buzzed, Isabel's mother, Katherine Mercer, raises her glass to me with a smile. "Nicholas, my daughter has waited three long years for you. Now, you're finally back!" The entire room bursts into laughter. My ears burn as I search for Isabel through the crowd of guests raising their glasses. She lowers her head, trying to hide her smile. Perhaps sensing my gaze, she looks up. Our eyes meet, and hers crinkled with delight. My heart skips a beat. I quickly lower my head and take a drink to hide my embarrassment, only to nearly choke on it. My fellow soldiers immediately begin teasing me. Even my younger half-brother, Stephen Aldridge, leans over with a smile. "Congratulations, Nicholas. You'll soon be the Hartwells' son-in-law. When you make it to the top, don't forget to help me out." I ruffle his hair, warmth filling my chest. My career is thriving, the woman I love will soon be my wife, and I share a close bond with my family. What more can I possibly ask for? Then, I look up and freeze. A golden prophecy appears out of nowhere, hovering in midair. "In two hours, Stephen will be found lying beside Isabel with his clothes in disarray. Everyone will catch them in a compromising position. Isabel will be forced to marry Stephen, and she'll eventually succumb to depression and die." I sober instantly as a chill sweeps through me. After all, Stephen is none other than my younger half-brother, who has just raised a toast to me.

"Ms. Clarke, you have successfully purchased a Final Memories recording package. We have arranged hidden cameras to record you anytime and anywhere. From this moment on, no matter where you go or what you do, everything will be secretly filmed until the day you pass away." The staff member handed the contract to Lila Clarke and asked her to confirm everything one last time. Without hesitation, she signed her name. The reason she ordered Final Memories was because she had been diagnosed with cancer. She had no more than one month left to live.

I’ve cheated on my boyfriend, Julian, three times. The first time, I dumped him because he was broke and hooked up with his boss. The second time, I thought he was getting too old, so I went after a younger personal trainer. By the third time, I was just bored and wanted someone new. But right then, floating text flashed across my vision. “She has no idea he’s the missing heir to a multi-billion-dollar empire.” “Seriously. He gave her three chances to live in luxury, and she blew every single one.” I froze and looked at Julian. His fists were clenched and tears welled up in his bloodshot eyes. "Are you sure you want to leave me?" he asked. I shook my head, heart pounding. "What if I said... I'm mostly done cheating now? Would you forgive me?”

Before my wedding, I was diagnosed with a progressive autobiographical memory disorder. The neurologist said I'd gradually forget everyone, including myself. When I got back to the Winslow estate, my parents had moved the entire wedding fund meant for me into the room of their adopted daughter, Marissa. "Elise, you're the older sister. You need to give way to Marissa. Stop bullying her and making us dread the sight of you." I lowered my head and agreed, then cried in my room all night. The next morning, I couldn't remember why my pillow was wet. That afternoon, I saw my fiance, Graham Ellsworth. He was wiping tears off Marissa's face and looking at me with disgust. "Elise, I was only being affectionate with Marissa. Was that enough for you to threaten to end our engagement? You're unbelievably petty." His words made me cry. But at dinner the next day, when Graham spoke to me with the same cold contempt, I stared at him in confusion. "Sir, who are you?" I was forgetting faster. Then, one evening, Graham offered to take me for a drive outside the city. He stopped on an isolated county road. "The tire's caught against something. Get out and see whether a rock is blocking it." I did as he said and stepped out of the car. Graham drove off and called through the open window, "Since you can't stop tormenting Marissa, stay here and think about it." The car disappeared. I stood beside the road with nothing in my head. I wanted to go home, but I didn't remember where home was, or what my parents were called. By the time the Winslows panicked and Graham had searched every road beyond Stonewick, they finally understood. I really had disappeared.

I was twenty-two that year, and I'd been in love with Brandon Aker for five years. I thought it was the best-kept secret I'd ever had. Until our graduation dinner, when someone brought up the girl who was always hanging around him. He turned to look at me, then smiled and looked away again. "Oh, her? I ended up accepting her. She's pretty entertaining." The entire table burst into laughter. The soup in front of me had gone cold. The one who stopped the waiter was Sloan Hastings. "She hasn't had any yet. Could you heat it up, please?" Some people accepted you simply because they thought you were amusing. I wasn’t a joke. I just realized it far too late.

Today was my younger son, Luke's, eighteenth birthday. My ex-husband, Major General Arthur Ashford, let himself into my house without knocking. He headed straight for the liquor cabinet like he still owned the place. He poured himself a glass of whiskey and looked at me with open contempt. "Allison, how have you enjoyed the last eight years? Stuck here in Briarwood because of a family court order. "All because I broke a couple of glasses and put my hands on you a few times, you just had to file for divorce." "And what did that get you? The judge stopped you from taking the kids out of the city and made sure I got regular visitation." He swirled the whiskey in his glass, spilling a little onto the carpet. It was the same cocky look he wore the night he came home drunk and beat me with his belt. "You really thought you could get away from me? As long as I say no, you'll spend the rest of your life under my control. "After Luke cuts his cake, I am filing for emergency guardianship. You will never take my son away from me." I looked at his smug face, gripping the edge of my sleeve, and said nothing. Then he lifted his glass, ready to start barking orders at everyone. My daughter, Kate, rose from her chair and set a thick stack of papers onto the table in front of him. "General Ashford, you should read these. "As of midnight, Luke is legally an adult. Every travel restriction the family court placed on Mom is gone. "And this is the filing receipt for the name change petition for the two of us, which I filed with the Supreme Court." Arthur gave the papers a dismissive glance. Then his smile disappeared. Printed across the top in bold letters were the words: Petitions of Kate Ashford and Luke Ashford to Change Their Surname to Pierce.

The first time Silvia Robinson undergoes ECT, she is all alone. Even Gregory Fisher, her fiance who loves her so much, is nowhere to be seen. After the doctor gives her a muscle relaxant, she starts to get drowsy. She is in a daze when she recalls what happened that evening. She has waited three hours in line for a special cake, which she is planning to surprise Gregory with. However, she comes home to see Gregory kissing her younger sister, Ella Robinson. The two are deep in a kiss as they hold each other tightly in an inseparable embrace. The cake in Silvia's hands drops to the floor, smashed beyond recognition as Silvia delivers a slap across Gregory's face. Then, she finds herself being pushed down the stairs by Ella. As she rolls down the stairs, Silvia feels like she has already seen this coming. Anyone close to her will eventually be taken away by her sister.

I spent seven years drafting divorce papers for other people. I never expected that the ninety-ninth agreement would be my own. That night, my husband, Carter, lost a tabletop game during a live stream with his childhood sweetheart, Chloe. The penalty was to give up the thing he treasured most. Chloe smiled at the camera, tapping his wedding ring. "Lend me your marriage for a day." The comment section blew up. Carter looked at me like he was giving orders to an assistant. "Evelyn, you know the drill. "Sign a temporary divorce agreement. I’ll cancel it with you tomorrow morning." Chloe lowered her eyes, her voice trembling. "Forget it. She won't let you. You always choose her over me anyway." I reached into my bag and touched the positive IVF result. Seven years of hormone shots. Four miscarriages. I didn't even have the energy to tell him anymore. As the camera zoomed in on my face, I pushed the papers back across the table. "Carter, this time, I’m putting down a bet, too. “I bet the thing you lose tonight isn't just me.”

I saw my husband, Winston Lawson, jerking it off to his robot butler, and it made me sick to my stomach. I held back my disgust and sent that robot to the factory for disposal. To my shock, Winston slammed his foot on the gas and chased after it like his life depended on it. On the way, he got into a terrible car accident and was declared dead at the scene. From that day on, the elite circle branded me a jealous, vicious woman. Five years had gone by. For countless nights, I blamed myself. I kept wondering whether Winston would still be alive if I had not been so fixated on a mere object. One day, when I was going to a private club for business talks, I walked by a VIP lounge with its door ajar. Winston's buddies were joking around inside. "How long are you going to drag this fake death out for, Winston?" The voice that came out next was something I was very familiar with. It was deep, relaxed, and painfully familiar. "After Jessica has her baby. If that woman hadn't been so crazy as to send the butler to the factory for disposal, Jessica wouldn't have to pretend that the system short-circuited to get away. I wouldn't have to fake my death to help with her perfect escape." His buddy clicked his tongue. "Can't believe you had Jessica wear that custom-made bionic skin and pretend to be a robot so you could cheat with her right under your wife's nose. That's some kinky stuff." He faked his death? And the butler was Jessica Gold? So Winston was still alive. And the robot he had been so obsessed with was never a robot at all. It had been my best friend, hidden inside a suit. A waiter passed by and bumped into me. His tray crashed to the floor, and the conversation inside the lounge stopped. Winston turned around, and our eyes met.

My roommate Sophie is a stunning beauty who is popular across the entire school and serves as its beloved cheerleading captain. So when my online boyfriend asks for another photo, she suddenly snatches my phone out of my hand. She puts on a worried expression, as if she is only thinking of me. “Are you sure you want to send one now? You’re almost two hundred pounds. I’m just afraid he won’t be able to handle it once he sees you.” Then she tilts her head and adds, “Why don’t you send him one of mine first? At least I won’t scare him off.” The girls beside us burst into laughter. “Two hundred pounds and you’re still dating online? Isn’t that basically catfishing?” “If he ever sees you in person, he’ll probably block you on the spot.” I lower my head and pinch the soft flesh around my waist, hesitating over whether I should send him my roommate’s photo instead. Then, out of nowhere, a line of translucent text flashes before my eyes. [Don’t send it! She already knows your online boyfriend is the heir to a fortune worth millions.] [Sophie is pretending to help you, but she’s the one who wants you to send her photo first.] [Once you two arrange to meet in person, she can easily take your place and steal your boyfriend.] I freeze for only a second. Then I snatch my phone back and pull up a photo from three years ago. “No need.” “After all, once I slim down, I’m much prettier than you.”