Cerita Pendek Plot Twists Romance & Novel Mistress Awakening

Everyone knows I'm Sinead Powell's most loyal dog. I take bullets for her during the day and share her bed at night. In the past ten years, I've never once crossed the line. But on the day Sinead secures the western coast partnership deal, I kneel in the Powell family chapel and formally ask to leave. Sinead's grandfather, Gregory Powell, stares at me with an intimidating gaze. "Are you sure you want to leave the Powell family?" I prostrate myself and press my forehead to the ground. "Please grant my request, Mr. Powell." I came from a reclusive family that specializes in combat arts. When my father was falsely accused and sent to prison, Gregory's wife, May Powell, has stepped in and saved his life. To repay her kindness, Dad assigned me to protect her only granddaughter, Sinead. Three years ago, Wesley White appeared with the emerald pendant left behind by the late May and became Sinead's fiancé. He subjected me, her loyal bodyguard who she barely even acknowledges as her lover, to relentless torment. Over the past three years, I've had a broken leg and lost my eyesight. The worst torture I've suffered is when Wesley lost a bet and handed me over like a plaything to a sadistic South Arlian businesswoman. I was brutally carved up 99 times, and my body was still covered in scars to this day.

Samuel Pierce is the man every guy in Crown City wishes he could be. His career is on the steady rise, and he has Scarlett Bennett—a woman who loves him like he's her whole world—by his side. She's a spoiled heiress who never spares anyone a second glance, yet her love and devotion to him have stayed rock-solid for decades. When his career hits a wall, she drops a multimillion-dollar deal just to help him land a six-figure contract. When he collapses after pushing himself too hard, she stays by his bedside day and night, refusing to sleep as she cares for him. When he's trapped on a mountain by a mudslide, she ignores the rescue team's warnings and risks her life to climb up there and drag him out. Throughout their 40-year marriage, Scarlett insists on not having kids. Still, even without children, she and Samuel remain as in love as they have been from day one. Then all of that ends the year Scarlett dies.

I always believed that I was the most blessed man in the world, having a beautiful wife, a cute kid, and a good job. That is, until I was rushed to the hospital after a car accident. Suddenly feeling the urge to play a prank on my best friend and my wife, I asked, "Who are you? Do I know you?" I was just feigning amnesia to see them panic, only for them both to sigh in relief. "Did you forget? I'm your best friend, John Tucker! And this is my wife, Wanda Lloyd." I was just about to laugh at how quickly they caught my prank, only to watch as my wife blushed and jammed her lips on John's. As I froze, John studied me intently, then asked tentatively, "Ned Cross? Do you really have amnesia?"

To save money for a house, I had been living a frugal life with my boyfriend, Desmond Wood. When Desmond received a twenty-thousand-dollar bonus, he bought me a branded bag. I was delighted, but I felt that he did not need to spend so much on me. Hence, I brought the receipt and the bag to the shop for a refund. The shopkeeper told me that my bag was fake. However, the receipt was real.

On the day I sold my house, my best friend asked me. “Aren’t you getting married soon? Why are you selling your new home?” I signed the transfer agreement and replied, “Because I’m breaking up with him.” We were supposed to buy a particular couch for our new home. Caleb Graham said he had not managed to snag it yet, so he asked me to wait a little longer. Then, I saw that very couch in Claire Silva’s Stories. She had specifically tagged Caleb. [It’s the one I’ve been waiting for so long! He still knows me so well!] In the comments section, Caleb simply replied, [Don’t mention it.] That was followed by a bunch of trivial chatter between the two of them. I stared at that Stories post for a long time. Then, I canceled the order for the matching pajamas. I scrolled back through my order history. I had ordered over a hundred packages. They were all for furnishing our new home. At first, Caleb would enthusiastically pick things out with me. Later on, he did not even bother to reply to my messages. It was because Claire, his first love, had gotten divorced. His attention toward me and our new home had shifted elsewhere. “If a buyer contacts us, I’ll let you know right away.” The real estate agent slid his business card across the table. I reached out to take it. Then, I cast one last glance at this place. ‘Caleb, I admit that I regret it,’ I thought. Seven years had passed, and I no longer wanted to build a home with him.

Victoria Blackwood was a completely different person after being reborn. She no longer woke up before sunrise to make breakfast for Sebastian Blackwood and deliver it to his military unit so he could enjoy a home-cooked meal. She no longer picked up their son from daycare every evening, holding his little hand as he excitedly told her about the new songs he had learned that day. Even after their son, Ethan Blackwood, was injured in a car accident and rushed to the hospital, Victoria ignored Sebastian's repeated calls. It wasn't until his 38th call that she finally answered, taking her time as if nothing were wrong. Sebastian's voice was filled with worry, but he was clearly holding back his anger. "Do you even know Ethan was in a car accident?" Victoria held the phone to her ear while looking over the documents in front of her. She replied calmly, "I know. Haven't you already called me dozens of times?"

On our third wedding anniversary, Kent gave me a gift. A black metal wristband. Cold. Sleek. He called it a new product from his company—a pain-sharing system. The other user was Violet. His "girl bro." The person he was closer to than his own sister. Kent brushed a hand over my cheek, his gaze soft. "Clara, you're too coddled. You should learn from Violet. She's tough." Then he snapped the wristband onto my wrist. So while Violet got a full-back tattoo and an entire sleeve, I felt every single needle. When Violet went wingsuit flying, I collapsed at home. Every bone in my body felt shattered. I threw up blood. While she soaked up attention online as the "extreme sports queen," I was drowning in nonstop pain. Kent sat beside me, holding my hand as he cared. "Just hang in there. Violet's just being herself. As my wife, you should be more understanding." To finally push me over the edge, Violet decided to livestream herself jumping into the ocean to make me die in her place. Their friends couldn't wait to watch. Later, I watched calmly from a hospital room as the system slowly drained the life out of her. Kent looked deranged as he demanded to know why I wasn't dead. Because I had already reversed the system. All her vitality had become the nourishment that sustained me.

It was common knowledge that the Marsh family was the family with the strictest household rules in upper-class society. They adhered to the rules unyieldingly, and there were so many of them that the rulebook was thicker than ten legal codices. One of the rules was: If any woman wanted a divorce, she had to roll on a bed of nails for half an hour before she was allowed to leave. In the past, Violet Stane insisted on marrying River Marsh and never thought about getting a divorce. After all, she had spent ten years pursuing this aloof ice prince. Once she married him, she gave up on her flourishing career, stopped being so aggressive, obeyed the ridiculous number of house rules, and became the perfect wife for River. But she no longer wanted to do that.

In the seventh year of our relationship, my boyfriend, Hunter Jenkin, seemed to have lost interest in everything. Desperate to figure out what still excited him, I bought a wristband that measured romantic excitement and fastened it around his wrist myself. When we watched a movie together, the wristband registered just 1 point. When we climbed a snow-covered mountain and kissed at the summit, the score was only 5. On his birthday, when I slipped a ring onto his finger, it rose to a mere 8. No matter what I did, I could never spark any real excitement in him. I was almost ready to give up, and I even suspected that the wristband was nothing more than an overpriced gimmick. Then, on the first night of Hunter’s business trip, my phone suddenly began vibrating nonstop. [Your partner’s romantic excitement score: 90.] I stared at the screen, stunned. By 1 a.m., the score had hit 100 and stayed there all night. I opened the location tracker, only to find an address so familiar that it sent a chill through me. It was the home of my best friend, Candace Lindhurst. Hunter had not lost his capacity for love. He had simply directed it all to someone else.

My girlfriend, Esther Cahill, and my best friend, Lionel Fox, are both ESTPs. They send each other thousands of messages every day, but the second I say something, they both go completely silent. "Gabriel, it's not that we don't want to reply. You just wouldn't get what we're talking about." I have always assumed that I'm just too quiet and that I don't really fit in with them. One day, I get hit by a car outside the school and end up bleeding badly. The driver speeds away, and I call Esther ten times, but she doesn't answer. I enter the three-person group chat, only to find that she's having the time of her life chatting with Lionel. The messages keep coming in so fast that I can barely keep up.