Maiikling Kwento tungkol sa Plot Twists at Romance, at mga Nobela ng Mistress na may Face Slapping

After I had helped our law firm win nine hundred and ninety-nine cases in a row, my husband, who had kept our marriage hidden for years, finally agreed to hold a wedding and make our relationship public. However, I waited until nightfall, and he never showed up. Instead, I saw a photo of him and his female assistant kissing in front of everyone at their wedding on Instagram. Her caption read, [I was just being mocked by my coworkers for being a bachelorette no one wants, and then my lawyer hero came to save me. From now on, I’ll be his perfect employee during the day, and he’ll be my loving husband at night.] In the photo, the wedding rings on their ring fingers were impossible to ignore. For a moment, everyone expected me to break down and make a scene. However, I simply smiled and left a comment under the post. [When are you two having a few kids? I’ll be sure to send over a big gift.] The very next second, my husband, who had been unreachable all day, finally called me. “Brit got pregnant out of wedlock, and the man who did it abandoned her,” he said coldly. “Her parents are extremely traditional. If this gets out, they’ll kill both her and the baby. As a lawyer, don’t you have any compassion for her at all? “Delete that comment right now. Apologize to her personally,” he continued. “Once she gives birth to the child and everything settles, I’ll hold another wedding with you.” I looked down at the divorce papers in my hand. Then, I let out a soft snicker. “No need,” I said. “Mr. Larson, just wait to receive our divorce case.”

At our engagement party, Michael walked on stage hand-in-hand with a pregnant woman. In front of all the high-society guests in the room, he called off our wedding. “Chloe is carrying my heir,” Michael declared. “I won’t let her suffer. You, you can stay as my side chick.” The crowd erupted into laughter. Michael’s friends cheered, passing cash around. “Told you!” one snickered. “That desperate loser won’t ever leave him. I won the bet!” “Everyone knows she’s a broke nobody. Without Michael, she’s nothing.” Michael handed me a black card with a smug smirk. “Be good, and I’ll still take care of you.” I looked at his arrogant face and almost laughed out loud. Yes, I gave up everything for him. I let him strip me of my pride. But five minutes ago, my lawyer called. My estranged billionaire father just died. And he left his entire fortune to me.

I decide to propose to Rebecca Milton, now that we've been in a relationship for five years. But I end up overhearing her conversation with her childhood friend, Tobias Wright, outside a private room in the clubhouse. "Seriously, Rebecca? Are you still hooked on the idea of pretending to be a poor student? All this just so you can win a bet of wooing Sebastian Grant, the business genius, and making him yours? "The Grants are on the verge of filing for bankruptcy. Heck, Sebastian has also cut ties with his family just so he can be with you. Don't tell me you seriously plan on marrying him!" Every cell in my body freezes upon hearing Tobias' words. Then, I hear Rebecca responding to him flippantly. "Marry him? As if! All I have to do is wait for him to propose to me, then I can expose the truth of the bet to him on the spot! Oh, the expression he's wearing must be amazing!" Tobias chuckles lightly in return. "You are in a five-year relationship with Sebastian at the end of the day. Are you sure you don't have feelings for him?" Rebecca scoffs back. "I was just playing with him, you know? Whoever puts their heart on the line loses this game." Then, she gazes at Tobias tenderly. "Don't you know very well who I'm truly in love with?" It turns out that the girlfriend I'm head over heels for, as well as the relationship that I view as my prized treasure, is nothing but the product of a bet. I call my parents on the spot. "I will go along with the marriage alliance."

It was near the end of May when I got off my night shift and got a call from my younger self, right before the SAT. "Eight years from now, am I happy? Am I living abroad, or working at Collins Corporation? "Charlotte said I don't need the SAT. She's taking me overseas." He sounded excited, already planning to spend the next few days doing whatever he wanted. I looked down at the grease on my uniform. Behind me was a cramped factory dorm, a cramped room packed with 12 beds. "Charlotte's getting married today," I said. "But you're not the groom." He sucked in a breath. "That's impossible. She said she'd marry me." Last night, Charlotte Collins texted me. [Don't come tomorrow. You work at a factory. You'll embarrass me.] His voice caught. "Who is it? Do I know him?" I said calmly, "Open the math worksheet in your bag. Finish it, and I'll tell you who she's marrying."

For seven years, my girlfriend, Sienna Jacoby, struggled with emotional avoidance. She never initiated a conversation with me. Whether I discussed major or minor matters with her, she only replied with either [1: Yes] or [2: No]. Even when I showed her the medical record that confirmed my uremia diagnosis, she gave a curt response and turned to go to work. My best friend, Ethan Quinn, once advised me, "A woman like her is worse than an air conditioner. At least an air conditioner knows when to cool you down and when to warm you up. What is the point of being with someone like her?" I stroked the ring on my ring finger and smiled. "She is just sick and does not know how to express herself. She loves me." A month later, on my birthday, I arrived at the restaurant late and saw Sienna sitting next to Ethan. They leaned closely together. The woman who always acted cold toward me beamed as she carefully wiped the rain from my friend's forehead. Ethan wore Sienna's coat. I looked away and fixed my gaze on the text message I sent to her a few minutes earlier. Clint Button: [Sienna, it is raining heavily today. I did not bring an umbrella. Could you come and pick me up?] Sienna: [2: No] I stood still and realized that I was the sick one. I had been blind as a bat.

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.

On the day of our engagement party rehearsal, the wedding company suddenly calls to tell me that someone has taken over our hotel ballroom at the last minute. I rush to the hotel to sort it out, only to see my fiance's name, Clark Zimmer, on the welcome sign outside the ballroom. But I'm not the bride. Through the half-open door, I see him down on one knee, slipping a crystal slipper onto another woman's foot. Clark's mother, Darlene Foster, stands nearby. She's beaming with delight. "You two are a much better match. As for Yvonne, let her transfer the project to you first, Clark. Then we can find a reason to call off your engagement to her." Instead of storming in, I record everything on my phone and call Clark. "There's a problem with the ballroom. Can you come over and deal with it with me?" There's a brief pause before his voice turns gentle. "Babe, I'm at the hospital with Mom. She's getting some tests done, so I might not make it home tonight." I look at Darlene onstage, looking perfectly healthy as she happily greets the guests. I can't help but smile. "Alright. Take care of what you need to." I hang up and immediately call my lawyer. If Clark wants my project that badly, I'm more than happy to give him a very special gift.

At graduation, I invited my classmates to attend my engagement party, but what I didn’t expect was the total meltdown one of my classmates had when she saw my engagement photos. She strutted over, full of herself, and demanded that I take off my dress so she could use it to polish her shoes. I blinked in confusion, thinking she must have lost her mind. I laughed and suggested she head over to the campus clinic to get checked out. Instead, she exploded, pointing a finger right in my face as she started yelling. “You leech! How dare you wear something so expensive?” she screamed. “You’ve been spending all of my boyfriend’s money on your filthy clothes! Have you no shame? Get down on your knees and apologize, or I guarantee you'll regret it. Who knows where you'll end up tomorrow? Maybe in the hands of some trafficker?” I couldn’t help but laugh. Who would’ve thought that my fiancé, whose tuition fees I paid for, had the nerve to keep a secret mistress behind my back?

At our dinner gathering, my best friend, Maya Miller, leaned in with a drunken smirk. "If you find out I'm sharing someone's husband, would you still be my friend?" Before I could answer, Maya kept going. "I didn't miss our lunch yesterday because I was sick," she whispered. "He installed a floor-length mirror, just to try something new with me." She took a sip of her wine. "And that retreat last month? Fake too. His wife just had a baby, so he took me to Aspen instead." I froze in total shock. Maya Miller suddenly burst out laughing. "Oh, come on! I’m totally joking. Look at your face!" I let out a breath and laughed it off. That evening, I drove to the office to drop off files for my husband, Ethan Cross. I walked in and froze. The floor-to-ceiling window in his private office was gone. Replaced by a massive floor-length mirror. Cold sweat broke out on my neck. I turned to Ethan. "Why the mirror?" Ethan pulled me into a soft hug from behind. "The window had a small crack, sweetheart. I got the mirror so you can touch up your makeup whenever you visit." I smiled and nodded, staying silent. As soon as Ethan walked out to grab his keys, I stepped up to the glass. Near the bottom corner were two faint, rounded smudges. I measured the shape with my hands. A D-cup. Exactly Maya Miller's size. I pulled out my phone, snapped a clear picture, and dialed a contact. "Get a construction crew here tonight. I want to replace a mirror with a two-way glass." I took a deep breath. "Then call the press. Tell them Ethan Cross is holding an emergency conference downstairs on Thursday.”

I've been caught in a relationship with a divorced man for eight years. We've broken up and reconciled too many times to count. In the end, I tallied ninety-four breakups and five divorces between us. One more would make it an even hundred, but I'm too exhausted to continue this cycle. The first breakup happened when I was giving him my virginity. Halfway through, his ex-wife called asking him to pick up some bread, and he simply left. The fifth breakup occurred when he abandoned me, newly pregnant, on the highway to comfort his ex-wife who was having complications with her own pregnancy. I ended up in a car accident and miscarried. He arrived at the hospital with his clothes disheveled. Despite all the pain he caused me, I could never bring myself to truly leave him. Our most recent divorce happened for an equally absurd reason. His ex-wife and their child were participating in a family reality TV show that required them to appear as a complete family unit. To protect his ex-wife's public image, he divorced me yet again. When filming wrapped, he called to discuss remarrying. This time I refused, because I'm going to marry someone else.

Lennon Shepard's first love, Jessie Sterling, has caused a medical malpractice incident due to an operational mishap. That night, Lennon cuts off the oxygen for Mabel Judson's mother to coerce her into taking the blame. At the moment, he's sitting across from Mabel with a confession placed between them. Once she signs it, she will never be able to pick up a scalpel in this country for the rest of her life.

My fiancee, Winona Ziegler, moves her childhood sweetheart, Caeden Gardner, who has just come back from abroad, into our future marital home. When ordering takeout, I add an eight-dollar omelette and a five-dollar caramelized onion soup to the order, but Winona deletes them all in disgust. "Caeden can't stand the smell of onions. Do you want to make him throw up? Can't you just have some plain water?" Moments later, she orders a seafood feast worth a thousand dollars for him, complete with king crabs and a premium seafood boil. Holding a glass of plain water, I watch her fuss over Caeden with endless concern. Then, my phone vibrates. My bank account has just been charged 1,000 dollars. She uses my money to spoil her childhood sweetheart, yet refuses to even buy me an omelette that costs eight dollars. Five years of love completely fall apart in that moment. This time, I don't argue or beg like I used to. I simply pick up my phone and press "Freeze Authorized User Card".

The next time I saw Chase Reed, it was at a little guesthouse in the Rockies. I'd just finished feeding my son breakfast and was wiping his mouth when Chase came out from the kitchen carrying a tray. Our eyes met. I saw his pupils dilate in shock. Three years had passed. His skin was weathered and reddened from the sun, his face covered in stubble, with new lines etched around his eyes from the harsh elements. Then his gaze landed on my son. He froze mid-step, his eyes going wide with disbelief before flooding with joy. He hurried over, his eyes locked on my little boy. "Sweetheart... can you say 'Daddy'?" I lowered my head, turned sideways, and pulled my son protectively into my arms. Three years ago, when I was five months pregnant, Chase had felt trapped. He decided to hit the road with his buddy — a female friend — and bike across the Rockies. He told me to cut off all contact and give him three years of freedom. From that day on, I cut everything about him out of my life. Including our child.

My girlfriend, Laura Dawson, once asked me a question. "If you ever made it big, would you leave me behind?" I told her no. For six years after that, I stood beside her through every low point in her life. Then the tables turned, and she was the one who made it big. At the Best Actress awards ceremony, she stood there with tears in her eyes, ready to announce the man she'd loved for years. The spotlight swept right past me and landed on the young man I'd sponsored. He stood beside Laura, his eyes red. "Will, thank you for taking care of Laura all these years. But gratitude isn't love. You can't use it to hold her hostage." Laura turned her own gaze on me, cold with warning. "I've had ten thousand dollars transferred to your card. As far as I'm concerned, we're even now." Six years of my youth, poured into her, reduced to one unremarkable number on a bank statement. I watched the internet fill up with people calling me a homewrecker. I made one phone call. "Pull every film Laura Dawson has ever made. All of them." Laura, I regret it now. Now that you've made it big, the first thing I'm going to do is leave you behind.

On the day I finally helped my wife land the hospital's deputy director position, she told me she was ready to make our relationship public. But at her induction ceremony, the medical resident who'd always seemed to have it in for me beat her to the stage. He took her hand and cooed at her like a lovesick teenager. "Thank you for finally telling everyone about us, Megan. I promise I'll take good care of you and our baby." The room went silent for a beat, then erupted into applause, everyone gushing about what a perfect match they made. The resident looked thrilled with himself. He even walked out on a patient halfway through a surgery once, just to throw a tantrum until my wife came running to soothe him. I confronted her about it, and we had a screaming match. She didn't look ashamed at all. If anything, her voice turned mocking. "You've helped me plenty, sure. But his family background puts yours to shame, orphan. He's the only one who can give me everything I actually want." I didn't cry. I didn't fight her on it. I just nodded along and offered her a divorce instead. I wanted to see something for myself: how far she and her lover would get once my "dead" tycoon parents stopped clearing the road ahead of her.

On the night before Match Day, it's 2:17 am when I find myself staring at the screenshot on my phone. For a long while, my heart refuses to calm down at all. Ethan Blake: "Let's have a bet, guys. If Leah doesn't get a spot at Redwood General Hospital tomorrow, this will mark the end of our relationship. The starting bet is two thousand dollars. Is anyone following up on this bet?" Already, more than a dozen people have responded to the message with various emojis. Someone even comments, "Count me in!" I feel my nails digging into my palms. "The end of our relationship", he says. To think that Ethan actually used this phrase. We've been dating for four years. This is the very same man who once told me that he wanted to marry me. Is it this easy for him to end a relationship? I take a deep breath and force myself to calm down. There are still other medical interns in the staff room with me. I mustn't lose my composure around them. I know that Ethan is waiting for me to react how I did in the previous times. I'd either spam his phone with missed calls, beg him to delete the message while crying, or apologize to him in an extremely humble manner. But now… Now, I'm really done with this relationship.

I endured hundreds of injections just to give Stanley Brighton a child. He was moved to tears and held me, promising that even if we couldn't have children, he would love only me. I diligently followed the doctor's advice and underwent treatment. The day I confirmed my pregnancy, I was so excited that I wanted to rush home and share the good news with Stanley. But what awaited me was unimaginable. Stanley and the female tenant we shared the apartment with were lying naked together in the bathroom, sharing an intimate bath. He was behind her, holding her close, his lips incessantly biting at her earlobes. "I'll give you as many children as you want! Ten, eight—whatever it takes! Just divorce her!" "Alright, just give me some time. I'll divorce her for sure!" Hearing their whispered entanglement, I turned away, stepping into the rain, determined to leave. I would disappear to a place where Stanley could never find me, not in this lifetime.

During an hurricane, I rescued Adrian Whitaker, the golden heir to one of the capital's most powerful families, from the ocean after he'd fallen into the water and lost his memory. While we were living in a cramped place in Seabrook, a small coastal town, I worked three jobs to pay for his treatment. I shielded him from a bottle when some thugs attacked him, and when he got sick during a torrential downpour, I carried him into town to see a doctor. Everyone said I was deeply in love with Adrian, that I cared about him so much I was willing to risk my life for him. Even Adrian himself thought so. So when his memory returned, and he was about to go back and take over his family's company, he asked me what I wanted. When I told him I only wanted him to grant me one wish, his face turned cold. "I can make sure you live in comfort for the rest of your life, but don't even think about becoming Mrs. Whitaker. Charis is the only woman in my heart." I didn't argue. I simply waited. On the day he officially took over the company, I finally breathed a sigh of relief. "Mr. Whitaker, please give me a letter of non-prosecution." Surprise flashed across his face. Then, for some reason, his expression darkened. "Do you really have to play hard to get at a time like this just to upset Charis?" I froze. Wait. How did asking for a letter of non-prosecution turn into playing hard to get? I was still waiting to get my poor, unlucky husband out of detention so I could bring him home for the holidays.

My husband, Shawn Payne, goes bankrupt overnight. That very night, he ships me and our son, Tommy Payne, off to a deserted island, claiming it's the only way to keep us safe from his creditors. Worried sick about leaving him to face the danger alone, I sneak back home halfway there, only to find him throwing a wild party, his arms wrapped tightly around a beautiful woman. His best friend, Ryan Foster, needles him. "You dumped your wife and son in the middle of nowhere. How are they going to survive out there?" Shawn shrugs like it's no big deal. "Yvonne's closing down her dog food factory anyway. I had all the surplus kibble repackaged and shipped to the island. It's more than enough to keep them fed for a few years." The woman, Yvonne Sullivan, purrs and snuggles deeper into his chest. "Oh, babe, you're so good to me and the baby," she coos, gently stroking her belly, which isn't even showing yet. He taps the tip of her nose affectionately. "You're so innocent and soft-hearted. If I don't look out for you, who will?" He pulls Yvonne closer and continues, "For your sake, I had to ship that shrew off to some godforsaken island. If she ever found out you were pregnant, she'd tear you apart. Once you have the baby and she turns two, I'll bring them back. By then, it'll be a done deal. There's nothing she can do about it." His words hit me like a ton of bricks. A cold sweat soaks me to the skin. Three years later, right on schedule, he calls. "Hey honey, how are you and Tommy doing? I'm ready to come pick you guys up." I glance at the man beside me, and a rush of satisfaction washes over me. "We're doing great," I reply. "My new husband treats both me and your son incredibly well."

In the afternoon, I mysteriously receive a text message from myself seven years in the future. Thinking it's some kind of new scam, I don't even bother reading it before replying, "Get lost, scammer!" However, the sender sends a photo of an empty bottle of sleeping pills and replies, "I'm not a scammer, but I really am dying. Break up with Crystal. Today will be the first day she cheats on you. "Her first true love just returned from abroad today. His name is Reuben Knight." I'm stunned. I'm about to make fun of the scammer for lying so blatantly to me because I clearly know that I am Crystal Harper's first love. At that moment, the door behind me opens. Crystal then strides in with a man behind her. She introduces me to him and says, "Hey, Daniel, I'd like you to meet a friend. This is Reuben Knight, and he's like a brother to me. He just returned from abroad today."