Plot Twists Romance Short Stories & Karma Novels

My sister and I are twins, and we both have kidney failure. After a long wait, we finally find two matching kidneys. The doctor is prepared to transplant one for me and one for her. However, she breaks down in tears in my fiancé's arms—she wants both kidneys for herself. When I object, my fiancé locks me up at home. He has my sister undergo surgery to have both kidneys transplanted. "You haven't been sick for as long as your sister has. She just wants to live like a normal person—how can you be so selfish? Can't you wait for the next matching kidney?" He doesn't know that I can't wait any longer, though. I'm going to die soon.

In the eighth year of our secret office marriage, Marvin lit up every LED screen in Ocean City, just to make his little assistant smile. Amidst the well-wishes from everyone, the assistant cheerfully handed out gifts to the entire office. I casually tossed my gift into the trash. The assistant immediately ran to Marvin's office, tears streaming down her face, to report me. Moments later, Marvin, furious, suspended me from my position. As I walked out of the company building, Marvin's voice echoed from the loudspeakers on the top floor. "Celebrating Wendy's successful completion of her work, the gift is ready!" Wendy—was the assistant's name. As I watched the crowd rush past me, I calmly cut all ties with Marvin. This hidden marriage had come to an end.

My husband, Theodore, was about to take his childhood sweetheart, Rosalie, around the world in a hot-air balloon when I was kidnapped by his enemy. They were about to throw me into a snake pit. I gave up asking Theodore for help and called my father-in-law instead. In my previous life, I begged Theodore to save me, even kneeling in front of the phone camera. Hence, he abandoned the hot-air balloon ride with Rosalie and rushed to negotiate with the kidnapper. Rosalie was all alone and angry. She took another hot-air balloon, but it exploded mid-way, causing her to die on the spot without even leaving behind an intact corpse. Hearing the bad news, Theodore showed a rare calm expression. He seemed to forget about Rosalie's existence and took me on a trip around the world. As we were sailing in Norwol, he suddenly pushed me into the sea. "I should never have saved you. Snake pit? Kidnapper? How could they have had the courage to push you into it? I should've never saved you if I knew it'd kill Rosalie. You should go to hell sooner!" When I opened my eyes again, I had come back to the day I was kidnapped. This time, I chose not to call for help. Humble love would only leave you bruised and battered.

On my birthday, Connor Simpson's first love jumped off a building due to depression. She died on the spot. Connor blamed everything on me. I never celebrated my birthday again after she died. After the murderer electrocuted me for more than ten hours, they forced me to call Connor. "Connor, it's my 25th birthday today. Can you come over and spend time with me?" However, Connor did not notice anything unusual. His voice was laced with venomous iciness. "Clarisse Winter, Audrey wouldn't have died if it weren't for you. How dare you ask me to celebrate your birthday? If only you were the one who died." I heard him coaxing a woman on the other end just before he hung up on me. That low and gentle tone was what I loved to hear the most in the past. That night, the murderer cut my body into countless pieces, packed them in bags, and threw them in front of the police station. Connor was summoned back overnight. He spent two days and two nights piecing together the body parts, but he did not realize that the dead person was the wife that he hated the most.

My fiancé’s childhood sweetheart Vivian knew about my deadly asthma. She secretly mixed strong liquor into my drink. Fire poured down my throat. Then, my airway clamped shut. Panic hit me. My hands shook as I dug out my emergency inhaler. But the spray hitting my lungs wasn't medicine. It was strong mint spray. She had swapped it. The second I inhaled, my airways slammed shut. Lack of oxygen drained my strength. I collapsed onto the floor, pathetic and weak. "Aria, this is mint spray I specially prepared for you. It can give you an effective energy boost." Vivian said, rushing over with a look of innocent concern. She crossed her arms, her possessive eyes locked onto my fiancé—Silas Thorne, the CEO of Thorne Group. "Silas, is Aria practicing for a play? I've been a top private doctor for years. I've never seen anyone react to mint spray that strongly." I bit my inner cheek hard. The taste of blood filled my mouth. Cold sweat stung my eyes. I gripped Silas’s pant leg tight. "Please... Silas... ambulance... I can't breathe..." Real panic flashed in his deep eyes for a second. He leaned forward instinctively. But the mocking voices from the executives around us stopped him cold. "Come on, stop pretending! Nobody dies from a bit of beverage and mint spray." "Yeah, she's just throwing a tantrum. Vivian was appointed as the Chief Medical Officer of Thorne Group today, and Aria is clearly jealous." Silas’s jaw tightened. He forced down the worry in his eyes. He ruthlessly pulled his leg away from my twitching fingers, taking a cold step back. "Vivian is a doctor. With her here, you won't die." I stopped begging. I used my last breath to text my father，the President of the Federation.

His precious childhood sweetheart got drunk one night and ended up in a stranger’s bed. When she showed up again, she was pregnant—just like me. On the day I gave birth, Harold handed me the divorce papers. "Rachel’s about to return to acting," he said coldly. "She and the baby need a proper title. If a scandal breaks out, it’ll destroy her." Dragging my frail body, I calmly signed the papers. In my previous life, I refused to step aside. I went live, holding my daughter, and exposed the award-winning actress Rachel Underwood for knowingly becoming the other woman. The internet turned on her. She lost every endorsement and was driven to the edge by massive fines—eventually jumping off a building. Harold quietly took care of her funeral... and then stood by as her fans harassed me in the streets, even tried to burn my child and me alive. It was not until I saw him lock the door behind us that I realized—he had wanted us dead all along. Then I woke up. And it was the day he gave me the divorce agreement... again.

Five years ago, at our engagement party, I broke my fiancee's assistant Richard Greer's nose with a punch because I saw his hand slip under my fiancee Pearl Moran's skirt, groping her right out in the open. Yet when security arrived, Pearl stepped in front of Richard and frowned at me. "Alex, he was just messing around. Did you really have to hit him that hard?" To get back at me for Richard, she pulled strings to throw me in prison. My first day behind bars, I ended up in a cell Richard prepped for me. My ribs were broken in a beating. I was fed spoiled leftovers and forced to sleep on the cold concrete floor. The moment I got out, I boarded a flight to Eldermere without looking back. Five years later, I return to Sovrane with my wife, Catherine Carter, to take over her family's Bellmont division. She gets held up with an arms order and tells her local crew to pick me up. I never expect to run into Pearl, whom I haven't seen in five years, the moment I step out of the airport. A black sedan pulls up in front of me, and the window rolls down. She looks at me like nothing ever happened. "You've been gone long enough. Time to drop the grudge. Richard's driver just retired. Since you're back, you can take over."

My husband insisted that I wear high heels at the company’s annual meeting despite being pregnant. He compared me to his female secretary with a look of disdain. "Can’t you learn from Lucille? She’s eight months pregnant and still comes to work in full makeup, handling her tasks efficiently. If you don’t wear them, don’t go. I’ll be embarrassed!" He even tried to give the high heels to his secretary and take her as his date. Left with no choice, I forced myself to wear them. However, on the balcony, the secretary tripped me, spilling red wine all over me. Limping, I found my husband, only for him to sneer, "Tripping on flat ground? How clumsy!" Furious and pale with anger, I turned to leave. Someone urged him to chase after me, but he only got angrier. "How bad could it be? She’s so timid—she can’t survive without me! Just wait. When the event’s over, she’ll definitely be waiting in the car to drive me home." Alas, he was wrong. I turned and went straight to the hospital for an abortion.

I’ve always felt the child that I’ve cared for the past three years was not mine. My mother-in-law told me I was overthinking and was just tired. However, I remember it clearly. My child had a birthmark on their left arm.   Even my husband said it was nothing more than a dream I had after passing out during labor.   Still, I began to suspect that my in-laws swapped my child at birth.  

My best friend called me sobbing at two in the morning, saying she owed three hundred thousand dollars in online loans and was begging me to save her life. I told her I'd help cover half. She grabbed my phone and transferred all three hundred thousand. "It's just money—why are you being so stingy? You make six figures. Helping me out shouldn't be a big deal." I swallowed it. A month later, she posted Maldives vacation photos on Instagram. When I asked when she planned to pay me back, she replied—right there in the comments, where every mutual friend could see— "God, stop nagging. Maybe spend that energy making more money instead, you cheapskate. So annoying." I screenshotted everything. Then I opened the civil complaint I'd already drafted. This kind of best friend? We could catch up in court.

When my son suffered a heart attack in the middle of the night, I rushed him to the hospital where my wife worked. Instead of taking charge herself, she handed the operation to an intern. "New doctors need opportunities to learn. I'll be right there supervising. Nothing will happen." But before the surgery even began, a phone call pulled her away, leaving a trembling Marvin Vance alone in the operating room. My son never made it off the operating table. I collapsed in the hallway, sobbing in grief. Yet I overheard my wife gently comforting Marvin. "For your first surgery, you held on this long. You've done an amazing job, my little cinnamon roll." Awkwardly copying trendy slang younger people used online, she reassured him with endless patience. Then she turned to me with a cold expression and demanded that I sign a letter forgiving Marvin. "He has his whole future ahead of him. You can't destroy his life." I tore the document to pieces and threatened to call the police and expose what had happened. In response, she arranged for a medical donation and had my son's body dissected that very night. Driven insane by grief, I threw myself from a building while clutching my son's ashes. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day of my son's surgery. This time, I immediately contacted my parents and transferred him to another hospital. But that night, they still dissected a child.

I fished my boyfriend from the sea. I empty my pockets to treat his amnesia, and he turns out to be a CEO when he regains his memories. Due to the disparity in our statuses, Quinn Hoffman doesn't hesitate to dump me. He says, "You're just a fishmonger. How can you be worthy of me?" He refuses to pay me back for the money I spent on his treatment. I'm backed into a corner—I need the money for my grandmother's surgery. In the end, I get tricked, and all my organs are gouged out. On the day Quinn learns of my death, he holds my belongings and refuses to let go. "You're just playing hide-and-seek, Kay! Aren't you?"

Sandra had never imagined that she would be left all alone on her wedding day. Ivy had always threaten to commit suicide due to her depression. As such, everyone would always try to please her. There was no exception even at Sandra's wedding. Sandra had had enough. She would not want to have any connection with her fiancé or her parents anymore. From now on, Sandra would only live her life for herself.

After I proposed to Kathy Johnson, my girlfriend of seven years, we went to City Hall to get our marriage license. Instead, she had her bodyguards throw me onto the street. Then, she walked through the doors, hand in hand with her childhood friend, Nate. She didn’t even blink when he saw me sitting there on the ground, shaking with disbelief. "Nate's son needs a legal guardian to secure his inheritance from the Johnson Group. The fastest way is for me to marry Nate and adopt the boy." "As soon as the paperwork is finalized, we'll get a divorce. You'll still be the one I really marry." Everyone assumed that I, the man who had been devoted to her for so long, would foolishly wait. After all, I had already waited for seven long years. But that night, I accepted the arranged business marriage my family had prepared for me and took a flight to Center City on the East Coast. I vanished from Kathy's world completely, and no one saw it coming. Five years later, I returned to Westlake City to visit my family. My wife, Rhea Weyland, was the sole heir to the Weyland family, a powerhouse that practically controlled the entire West Coast economy. She was tied up in a sudden international merger meeting. She had specially arranged for someone to pick me up from the airport. But I never dreamed that the "someone" she sent would be Kathy. The moment she saw me, her gaze immediately fell on the glittering watch on my wrist. "I can't believe that after all these years, you've stooped so low you're wearing a cheap knockoff." "Are you done with your little pity party? It's time to come crawling back. Nate's son is starting at an elite private school, and you're just in time to be his full-time driver and bodyguard." I gently stroked the watch on my wrist. What she didn't know was that this was one of the more modest gifts Rhea had given me.

Blaire Presley goes to the Carter residence, battered and bruised after being tormented by the three Carter brothers for three days. "Mr. and Mrs. Carter Senior, I've decided to marry Matthew Carter." Olivia Barrymore is surprised. "Are you sure you have the right guy, Blaire? Matt is those three brats' uncle!" Blaire isn't sure, but she has no other choice.

I was nine months along and ready to give birth, but my husband, Sean Conner, had me locked in the basement storage room and told me to hold the baby in. He said it was because his late brother’s wife, Quinn Faber, was also due today. Years ago, Sean and his brother had agreed that the first child born to the Conners would be raised as the heir and inherit the family inheritance. “Quinn’s baby must come first,” Sean said as if it were nothing. “She lost her husband and has nothing. You already have my love. It’s only right that the inheritance goes to her child.” The pain from the contractions folded me over, and I cried, begging him to take me to the hospital. He wiped my tears with a dangerously calm voice. “Stop the act,” he snapped. “I always knew you didn’t love me. All you care about is money and status. You forced labor to happen early so you could steal my nephew’s place… How can you be so cruel?” White-faced and shaking, I managed to whisper, “I can’t control when a baby comes. It’s a coincidence. I swear I don’t care about the inheritance. I love you!” He let out a cold laugh. “If you loved me, you wouldn’t have pushed Quinn to sign that contract relinquishing her child’s inheritance. Fine. Once she has her baby, I’ll come back for you. After all, the child in your belly is my blood.” Sean stayed outside Quinn’s delivery room. Only after the newborn arrived did he remember me. He ordered his secretary to take me to the hospital, but the secretary’s voice trembled as he said. “Madam… and the baby… They’re both gone…” At that moment, Sean lost his mind.

My mother-in-law brings a woman from the countryside. She looks like she's up to no good when she asks my husband and I to care for the woman. My husband is a mama's boy through and through. His gaze darts around, and he doesn't object to his mother's words. Is it a trend nowadays for people to serve mistresses on a silver platter? It looks like I'll have to do my best in "caring" for them, then…

I find cigarette ashes on the passenger seat of my wife's car. She brushes me off, saying, "My new assistant left it there. He's not the most sensible." When I ask for a divorce, she stares at me in disbelief. "Just because of that?" "Yeah. Just because of that!"

The year was 1983. The sun had set. It was dark outside. Only one dim light was in the Foster family’s living room. “Dad, Mom, I’m willing to live abroad with you.” When they heard their daughter’s words through the phone, Philip York and Angela York were moved to tears of excitement.

I’m Chloe. Daughter of the richest man in the world. I spend money like water. To stop me from blowing his fortune, my dad put me on a strict allowance. But right before my engagement party, he made an exception. Handed me a black card. Told me to pick out my own wedding jewelry. I went straight to Manhattan. To the most exclusive, biggest rough diamond trading center in the US. Because real top-tier jewels? You don’t just buy them. You bid for them in blood. I spotted a flawless rough pink diamond. It had this faint, perfect glow. Just as I picked it up, smack! A hand slapped mine hard. It stung. I dropped the stone. "Don't touch what you can't afford. You break it, can you pay for it?" “Five hundred thousand. Wrap it up. Now.” I frowned and looked over. A woman in a designer evening gown was rubbing her hand with disgust, as if she’d touched something filthy. Before I could even speak, a staff member snatched the stone right from me. "Right away, Miss Mia! I'll wrap it up for you!" I actually laughed from sheer disbelief. “Excuse me? That's daylight robbery.” Mia folded her arms and looked me up and down with a sneer. “Robbery?” “I’m Liam Astor’s childhood sweetheart. He's the heir to Wall Street's biggest empire. Around here, whatever I want, I get.” “So who the hell do you think you are, calling that robbery?” Liam. At the familiar name, I raised an eyebrow. Wasn’t he the fiancé my father had forced on me? I pulled out my phone and dialed. "Liam. Your little childhood friend is trying to steal my wedding jewelry in public. Are you going to handle this?"