Nouvelles Plot Twists Romance & Romans Independence Face Slapping

After being Nelson Jackson’s devoted simp for five years, Sarah Paterson became pregnant. Just as she was excitedly waiting for him to propose, Nelson had a change of heart when his high school sweetheart returned from studying abroad. Sarah didn't fight to keep the relationship. Instead, she went straight to the hospital, had an abortion, and immediately agreed to the arranged marriage her family had set up with a business partner's son. But Nelson came to regret his decision. He begged Sarah to keep his child, but she only gave him two words in response. "Too late."

When I got reborn into my youthful years, I turned down the marriage proposal of Seth Klein, the future major general. Instead, I chose to be with Nathan Prescott, who lived a poor life. My mother thought I was possessed. After all, the entire village knew that I, the village chief's daughter, used to follow the well-educated Mr. Klein around all the time. Apparently, I was willing to do anything just to marry him. I soon recalled what happened in my previous life. After I married Seth, we never consummated our marriage. He even brought back a child, claiming that said child belonged to a fellow soldier who had passed on in the war. I viewed the child as my own and made an effort to raise him. It wasn't until our fiftieth anniversary that I discovered a secret after barging into Seth's study, which had always been forbidden to me. It turned out that the study was plastered with photos of my older cousin, Catherine Parker—the most beautiful woman in the village. The thing was, she had been dead for a long time. The truth was, Seth has always been capable of performing in bed. He was merely practicing abstinence because of Catherine. Furious, I collapsed and was admitted to the hospital. But my son, whom I treated as my own, was the one who unplugged my life support with his own hands. "If it weren't for you taking over my mom's position as the actual wife, she wouldn't have died as an unknown mistress!" After my death, I witnessed Seth getting a joint burial with Catherine as husband and wife. As for my ashes, they were randomly scattered into a dried-up river. Now that I was reborn, I chose to fulfill their wish!

On the night of the final showcase for the three-year designer development program, my parents weren't in the family seats reserved for me. They were sitting at the VIP table with Sophie, my foster sister. My boyfriend, Adrian Cole, was giving interviews in a silver-gray outfit that matched hers. A reporter smiled and asked, "You're both headed to New York, and tonight you're even dressed as a couple. Did the two of you plan that?" The people around them whooped. Adrian only smiled. "We've known each other for years. We have similar taste." No one knew that the dress Sophie was wearing was mine. I'd drafted the pattern and sewn the dress myself, and Adrian and I had planned our matching outfits around it. When I found her wearing it that morning, all my mother said was, "The gown her sponsor sent is ruined. You're the designer. Just wear something else." Adrian frowned at me, too. "There's a lot of press here today. Don't embarrass Sophie over a dress." So I threw on a black suit at the last minute and stood alone outside the interview area, watching an entire room assume the two of them were a couple. The bigger joke was that they all assumed I'd lost. Adrian had lined up an assistant position for me at a second-tier studio, and my parents thought I should stay in Boston and apply again next year. Only my mentor knew the truth: I was the sole winner of this year's Grand Fellowship. My contract already guaranteed me a hundred and fifty thousand dollars in grant money and an eighteen-month independent residency in San Francisco. After the showcase, she asked me, "You're really going to San Francisco?" I looked over at my family, still gathered around Sophie and talking about apartments in New York, and for the first time, I felt no guilt at all. "I am." I wasn't going to let anybody else decide my life again.

During my tenth attempt at IVF, I was finally pregnant with triplets. I was extremely excited when I found out that I was pregnant, and I immediately wanted to tell Liam White. That was when I accidentally overheard his conversation with the doctor. “Mr. White, aren’t you afraid that Ms. Scott will find out that you’ve secretly swapped the eggs with Holly’s? “Besides, it’s not good for Ms. Scott to be pregnant with triplets. It’ll be very dangerous for her.” Through the gap of the door, I saw Liam say coldly, “Holly will only become the top supermodel after Evelyn gives birth to triplets and ruins her figure completely. “When Evelyn gives birth to the triplets, I’ll propose to Holly on the same day. “Then, my life will be complete with my career, love, and children. Evelyn is nothing but a surrogate to me.” I stood outside of the door and finally understood how cruel Liam could be. Then, I immediately made a call. “Mandy, I want to join next week’s fashion week.”

I was helping a client catch his cheating girlfriend. After I snapped a photo of her with another man, my client sent it to her and called her in a fury. The next second, my wife's voice came through the phone. "Aww, baby, don't be mad. You're the other man too!" Her voice was sweet and gentle, but the words carried a mocking edge. My client froze. "What... do you mean?" She answered with eerie calm. "There are seven men ahead of you. But I only have one husband, and his name is Theo." Theo… That's my name.

In saving Aspen Reid, I went blind. She said she would be my eyes forever and watch all the scenery that I would not be able to enjoy anymore. She taught me how to read braille and gave me a lot of love. I thought this was the best love ever. That was until my best friend, Liam Anderson, returned to the country. When we were travelling, she held Liam’s hand. I lost her and immediately called after her, but she said, “Ted, you’ve been blind for three years. Liam said you shouldn’t always rely on me. The hike down isn’t too difficult. You should be able to navigate the way out on your own.” She was right. She did not need to take responsibility for me. From then on, I decided that I would no longer need her.

The night before my wedding, as I was trying on my bridal gown, a line of floating text suddenly drifted across my vision. [Stop smiling. Tomorrow, right in the middle of your vows, the groom is going to bolt for the airport to pick up his first love.] I figured I was just hallucinating from sheer exhaustion until a second text flashed before my eyes. [She spent nine months planning this entire wedding, but he swapped out the ring for his first love's finger size ages ago.] I flipped open the ring box, and sure enough, the diamond band inside was a size too small. The next afternoon, the cathedral was packed with guests. Right as the officiant asked if Victor Bates took me to be his lawfully wedded wife, his phone chimed. The second he saw the caller ID, he turned on his heel and headed straight for the exit without even removing his lapel mic. "Hold on a second. Something came up with Sallie. I can't just ignore it," he said frantically. I tried to chase after him, but his mother grabbed my arm. "A man showing loyalty and compassion is a good thing! Don't throw a scene on your big day." My best friend chimed in, "Look, he's going to come back and marry you eventually anyway. Isn't securing the official title enough?" The entire room waited for me to swallow my pride and endure it. Meanwhile, the floating texts flashed across my field of vision in a frantic frenzy. [Here it comes! She's finally waking up!] I lifted the heavy train of my gown, stepped up to the altar, and took the microphone right out of the officiant's hand. I announced, "The wedding goes on. We're replacing the groom." [Holy shit! Total queen moves! She is killing it!] Sitting in the front row, a man slowly raised his head and buttoned his tailored suit jacket.

Someone entered my room the night I stayed at my best friend's place. I struggled desperately, but he pinned my hands above my head. "It's been a month. Haven't you missed this?" His voice was low and clear, cool yet incredibly seductive. Before I could speak, he crushed his lips against mine. "Nora, I'm back." Just then, I heard my best friend, Emma Moore, outside the door. The man on top of me froze and lowered his voice. "Who are you?!" My voice trembled as I answered, "I'm Nora Sutton." "Damn it." He swore and quickly got off me.

On my wedding night, I find out my childhood sweetheart, Sean Clay, has a mistress who is highly fertile. She's already given him a son and a daughter. "My family line is dying out, and your health has always been fragile. Paige gets pregnant easily. With her around to take the pressure off, it'll be easier on both of us. As long as you don't make a fuss, I promise she'll never take your place." I can't believe what I'm hearing. I trash everything in the room and kick everyone out. Clutching my chest, I collapse in front of the bronze mirror, only for the glass to reflect me ten years into the future. The woman in the reflection is gaunt, her hair completely white. "I've already tried throwing a fit and divorcing him. It only led to mutual hatred and absolute ruin. Let me give you a piece of advice. Accept Paige. "She might be fertile, but most of her children won't survive past the age of five. The ones who do will end up mentally impaired." She taps the surface of the mirror, and a flood of unfamiliar memories rushes into my mind. When I come to, tears are streaming down my face. Looking at the aged face in the bronze mirror, I reach out to touch it. "I will save you. And I will save myself."

When I was five, the wealthy Whitmores adopted me from an orphanage so their only son, Caleb, would have someone to grow up with. The first time we met, Caleb pulled his best friend Audrey Ellis over and gave me half his candy. After that, the three of us were inseparable. That changed in the summer after our college entrance exams, when Audrey confessed her feelings to me—and I accepted. Caleb quietly chose a university a thousand miles away. The night before he was supposed to leave, he went drinking alone. Someone dragged him into the alley behind the bar and beat and humiliated him until he died. Audrey and I spent the next two decades burdened by guilt. At forty, I was diagnosed with ALS. The night before I died, she held me and cried so hard she shook. "Julian, I love you. I always have." "But if there is a next life, I have to stay with Caleb. I can't let anything happen to him again." When I opened my eyes, I was back. I had returned to the day Audrey was going to tell me she loved me.

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.

My wife, Sonya Slade, had to travel to a nearby city for a business meeting. Her car was in the shop for maintenance, so she had to take a bus. I hated to see her go through all that trouble, so I gave her a few hundred extra dollars for travel expenses. That afternoon, my recently divorced neighbor, Simon Hunt, posted a selfie with a caption. It read, "Thanks to someone for letting me ride shotgun. That little drive was just what I needed." My breath caught. The charm in the corner of the photo was the one I had hung in Sonya's car myself. I called Sonya to confront her, but she sounded annoyed. "I happened to run into Simon while he was out taking care of something. I just gave him a ride for part of the way. He even paid for the gas." I paused, then decided I was reading too much into it. Then my phone buzzed with a traffic violation notice. At the time she claimed to be meeting a client, her car was parked outside a hotel for couples.

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.

After her miscarriage, Elise Emery became exactly the wife Colsen Locke had always wanted. She quit telling him about her day. Quit calling when he stayed out all night. Even when an old man falsely accused her of hitting him with her car, she didn't call anyone. Didn't ask for bail. She just spent seven days in custody. At dusk on the seventh day, the precinct's iron gate clanged open. Elise had barely made it down the steps when a black Maybach screeched to a stop in front of her. The door swung open. Colsen stepped out in a custom suit, tall and lean, all broad shoulders and cold control. Same polished look. Same unreadable face.

Ever since I was little, my taste buds seemed off. Whenever my family shared a watermelon, the others all raved about how sweet and refreshing it was. Yet no matter how many times I tasted it, the watermelon always struck me as bland, with a faint trace of sourness. I could never bring myself to enjoy it. Eventually, I stopped eating watermelon altogether. That was until the new summer break, when I dragged my heavy suitcase home, drenched in sweat, and spotted several slices of watermelon sitting on the table. To quench my thirst, I picked up a slice and popped it into my mouth. A burst of rich, sugary juice immediately exploded across my tongue. Just as I caught myself wondering when watermelon had ever tasted this amazing, my sister saw it and snatched the tray right out of my hand. "Why are you eating Buster's watermelon?" "What? Who is Buster?" She pointed to the number labeled on the tray. "Buster is the puppy I got this year. You're not Number 5 in this house anymore. Buster is!" In our family, everyone had a designated number. My dad was Number 1. My mom was Number 2. My brother was Number 3. My sister was Number 4, and I was Number 5. Before I could even process that my number had been handed off to a dog, my mother stepped into the living room. Spotting me, she said cheerfully, "Oh, you're eating watermelon again? That's great! Now those rinds won't go to waste anymore." Looking down at the watermelon rinds tossed in the trash can, I finally understood. There was never anything wrong with my taste buds. It was simply that over all these years, the sweet, tender heart of the watermelon—and the love tucked inside it—had never once been given to me. That very evening, I signed the agreement to join the Mistolstone Research Institution. I'd never return home where I was treated worse than a dog.

I went to my son's birthday party and was stopped at the door. "I'm Lucas Caldwell's mother." The hotel manager looked me up and down with a smirk. "You? Mrs. Caldwell has been running around for days getting everything ready. She's inside greeting the VIP guests right now." My breath hitched. What other Mrs. Caldwell? I tried calling my husband, Nathan Caldwell, but he didn't pick up. My texts went unanswered. Guests arrived one after another, each shooting me bewildered looks. I swallowed my pride and begged the manager to bring Lucas out to get me. She came back a moment later, her face dripping with contempt. "Lucas says his mommy is right beside him." The blood drained from my face. "He said that himself?" She waved me off in disgust. "This is an exclusive event. Don't even think about sneaking in. Get lost!" I drove home in a fog and found an Instagram post from my younger sister, Sienna Pierce. My son had his arms around her. My husband leaned toward her, his head slightly tilted her way. The caption read: "Got the birthday boy's official stamp of approval, and every bit of work was worth it! Happy birthday, sweetheart!" So my place in this family had been taken long ago. I sent a text: "The product launch at the end of the month. I'll be there in person." It was time to put an end to all of this.

I marry the comatose heir of Jebony's most affluent family for the ten million dollars in wedding gifts. In the year after the wedding, I undergo 12 rounds of IVF and finally give birth to the Larkin family's successor. When our son turns five, Jacob Larkin miraculously wakes up. The media goes wild, calling me the Larkin family's lucky star. They say I'll live a life of endless privilege. I merely smile—the first look Jacob gives me after waking up is one full of disdain. He even warns me icily, "You're nothing more than a woman my father paid to bear me an heir. Don't kid yourself that I'll ever fall for you! "I grew up with Angela. If not for that accident, you would never have become my wife." I hand him the divorce papers and say calmly, "I'll step aside, then. I'll give you and Ms. Lloyd what you want."

I worked in bottle service at a nightclub for four years just to support my boyfriend. His startup business failed. He told me he owed a fortune to loan sharks, saying that they would cut off his fingers if he failed to pay up. I gave him every dollar I had saved just to help him clear off his debt. I even gave him the emerald bracelet my mother had left me before she passed away. That night, I unintentionally overheard a conversation from one of the private rooms while I was working. "Preston, your girlfriend never would have given you that bracelet she had been hiding if Mia hadn't suggested we pretend to be debt collectors and assist you with this little show." Preston Hale laughed smugly before draining the drink in his glass. "It's just an old bracelet. Mia liked it, so I gave it to her." Then, he leaned back and added, "Now, help me think of another way to test Nora." So that was the truth. The love I dedicated for four years was just a test to him. The loan sharks, debt, fear, and desperation—he had orchestrated it all. I turned, walking out on him and out of the nightclub. Then, I reached out to my older brother, Adrian Whitmore, with whom I had been fighting for years. "Adrian," I told him, "I lost. I'll marry the man you arranged for me to meet."

My husband, David Klaus, was a top surgeon with a strict rule: he didn't treat family. Conflict of interest, he said. Absolute professional ethics. He only broke that rule three times. The first was when severe period pain made me pass out, and he finally wrote me a sick note. The second was when my mother’s emergency surgery couldn't wait, and he allowed her into his hospital. The third was when I had a miscarriage risk, and he stepped in to save our baby. I should have felt grateful. But I didn't. Because he didn't break his rule for me. He broke it for my best friend, Wendy. All it took was a single phone call from her. "David, be good. Seeing her in pain hurts me too, and it won't ruin your reputation." And just like that, the unyielding doctor gave in for her. Afterward, he always looked at me with resentful eyes. "I keep breaking my boundaries for you." Waking up after surgery, I watched through the glass as they laughed together. She told him to stop being so rigid. He smiled and promised he would try. He never broke his rules for his wife. He broke them for her. And from then on, I didn't want his pity anymore. ---

After a fire broke out at the company, I shoved the only rescue rope into the hands of my husband, Peyton Shepherd. However, he yanked the smoke mask off my face and turned to secure it on his secretary, Hannah Russell, instead. Peyton escaped using the rescue rope, and Hannah remained unharmed thanks to the mask. I collapsed from inhaling toxic smoke, and then a falling pillar crashed into my stomach. Blood pooled beneath me. Just as the firefighters lifted me onto a stretcher, Peyton grabbed me and pulled me back down. "Serena, it's just a minor injury. Why are you lying on the stretcher? Let Hannah go to the hospital first. Her condition is serious, and she needs a comprehensive medical exam!" The firefighters and paramedics stared in shock. They looked at my blood-soaked dress, then Hannah crying pitifully over her blistered hand. My colleagues tried to intervene. "But Mr. Shepherd, Serena's injuries are clearly more severe!" Peyton snarled through gritted teeth. "Enough! I'm Serena's husband. Don't you think I know her condition? If Hannah's treatment gets delayed because of this, none of you will escape the consequences!" I pressed my hand against my slightly swollen lower abdomen and nodded, agreeing to let Hannah take the ambulance first. I decided that from this moment forward, neither I nor my unborn child owed Peyton anything.