Plot Twists Romance Short Stories & Mistress Family Emotions Novels

At Opaline Corp, the lowest-performing employee had to eat a plate of pasta mixed with live worms. This time, Tristan Crocker lost three clients and landed dead last. To keep Tristan from feeling singled out, my wife, Wendy Kline, hit me with a nine-million-dollar performance penalty because I showed up one minute late while sick—even though I'd brought in three million in revenue. Just like that, I became the first employee in company history with negative earnings. Grinning, Tristan shoved the plate toward me. "Wendy updated the company rules last night to keep everyone in line. Anyone who's late gets penalized three times their performance. You always said mistakes deserve punishment. Now that it's your turn, you're not backing out, right?" Every eye in the room locked on me, waiting for me to lose it. Wendy quickly sent me a message: [The nine million is only on paper. It's not a real fine. With your talent, you'll earn it back in three months. Tristan's allergic to worms. If he ends up in the hospital over a punishment, it'll damage the company's reputation. And if people hear we punished an outsider, that'll look even worse.] [You're my husband. You're one of us. I love you, which is why I'm giving you the chance to show some leadership.] [Once this blows over, I'll give you an extra twenty dollars a month, okay?] When I didn't reply, she finally snapped. "Company rules apply to everyone, even the top performer. If you don't like it, you're free to leave." I nodded, unclipped my badge, and set it on the table. "Fine. I quit." I looked at her. "And while we're at it, let's get divorced."

At my mom's funeral, my lecturer wife, Vivian Carter, decides to have a rendezvous with her student, Noah Myers, with ten packs of condoms in her bag. Once they are done with their passionate lovemaking, Noah uploads a photo to his social media feed. It features a red-faced Vivian lying on his bed. Meanwhile, the clothes of mourning that she's worn to the funeral are strewn all over the floor. The caption reads, "The only who's not loved is the actual homewrecker here. My relationship has finally borne fruit!" His feed goes wild with comments. Everyone mocks me for being a shameless simp for Vivian, and that I've been ruining Noah's relationship with her this whole time. My mentor, Avery Sanders, is sick with worry. But I, on the other hand, merely brew myself a cup of coffee. Then, I say lightly, "Since he likes uploading his intimate photos that much, I might as well upload photos of his and Vivian's bastard child as well as their paternity tests. Here's the caption—I, the legal husband, am now defending my pride as a married man. "Now, I'd like to see if Noah and Vivian are capable of bearing the consequences of pissing off my prestigious and wealthy family!"

My husband, Jake Langford, gets poisoned with the toxic aphrodisiac in order to save me. Apparently, he needs to sleep with 99 virgins in order to get cured. Every time he's done with a session, Jake looks at me with red-rimmed eyes. "You mustn't think badly of me, Lily!" Whenever he says that, the jealousy and resentment I feel get drowned out by guilt immediately. I count the days, thinking that things between Jake and me will go back to how they were like before once we've gone through 99 days of hell. That is, until I discover the second phone hiding inside our closet. Only then do I realize that there's no such thing as 99 virgins. It turns out that Jake has been sleeping with the same woman every night this whole time.

On our wedding anniversary, my husband left me standing in the pouring rain so he could drive his secretary home. That was the last straw for me, and I asked for a divorce. I gave up custody of our son, but Charlie simply gave me a cold look. "What, are you trying to use our child as an excuse to keep clinging to me?" I smiled and said nothing. I would not. Because I had heard the son I had nearly died giving birth to mutter in his sleep, "I want Megan to be my mom. Dad and I will protect her."

On the day I remarry Jeremy Grant, the fake heiress, Jessica Decker, sets my foster mother ablaze, killing her on the spot. Right after calling the cops, I get knocked out by an unknown assailant. When I open my eyes again, I realize that Jeremy has ordered cosmetic surgery to be done on me. Since I'm sporting Jessica's face right now, that means I'm being used as a scapegoat for Jessica's crimes. Three years later, on the day I get released from prison, Jeremy's legal team is on standby the whole day. As soon as I show any signs of getting revenge, they won't hesitate to admit me into a mental hospital for the next three years. My son, Oliver Grant, even uses the money I've given to him in the past to build a 99-story safehouse for Jessica. In fact, she's hiding in the top floor. The name of that building is J Tower. Of course, the "J" is taken from Jessica. Everyone is terrified that I might hurt Jessica in any way. But I respond by vanishing from the face of the earth. Just like that, I disappear from everyone's lives. The next time we meet is when Jeremy and Oliver show up at my street food stall. I turn on the gas stove before smearing the grease all over my apron. Then, I cut open a pancake skillfully. At the same time, I say calmly, "It'll be an extra dollar for an egg. Two dollars will be charged if you want spicy sausage included." Jeremy gulps quietly, his voice coming out terse. "I'm allergic to eggs. Oliver can't endure any spicy food at all." A pause later, he adds, "Have you forgotten about our preferences?" There's no need for me to remember a single thing about them. All I need to remember is that I'll be able to save enough money to pay off the last installment of the burial plot next to my foster mom's plot if I can sell 33 more dishes.

My son, Miles Glover, has just been accepted into one of the top colleges in the country when my wife, Teyana Packard, sends him to a plastic surgery hospital for forced gender reassignment surgery. His only crime? Defending me and insulting Teyana's assistant, Hunter Leach, and his daughter, Cassadee Leach. To avenge them, Teyana orders the surgeons to operate without administering anesthesia, leaving Miles to scream and writhe in agony. I drop to my knees and clutch the hem of her clothes desperately. "Teyana, Miles is your son too. If you're resentful about something, take it out on me. Don't hurt our son!" I beg. She looks down at me with icy contempt and kicks me off the platform. "Your precious son bullied an innocent young lady and drove Cassie into depression. Turning him into a woman so he can face the world's scorn is only fair! "Now you can feel the exact same agony Hunter and his daughter felt!" Fighting through the unbearable pain, I make it to the hospital where Miles' surgery is being done, only to see him jump from the building. Right then, I hear another voice drifting down the line. "Let's forget it, Teyana. If Wesley finds out you divorced him ages ago for our sake, he'll just make another scene." My world shatters, and it feels as if my soul has left me. I grab my phone and dial the all-too-familiar number. "As long as you can save my son, I'll agree to anything!"

I'm born different, with two hearts inside my body. This is the only thing about me that makes my parents happy, because my brother, Tristan Foster, has congenital heart disease. They bring me into this world only so he can keep living. Then I meet Cindy Green and marry her. She pulls me out of the desperate need to chase my family's love. I think she's going to be different from my parents. But when Tristan's condition flares up, she becomes obsessed with wanting me to donate one of my hearts to him. What she doesn't know is that I only have one heart left. The other one is already beating inside her.

Liam Brooks and his older twin brother, Noah, looked exactly alike, but their lives couldn't have been more different. Noah was the CEO of Brooks Group. Liam was an ordinary office worker. All because Liam was the son his family had cast aside. We met when neither of us had much, supported each other through the hard times, and eventually married. During our three years of marriage, Liam kept telling me he could never measure up to his brother or give me a better life. He was afraid I'd look down on him. I told him I didn't care if we lived in a rental apartment forever, as long as our hearts were together. He gave me all his money and all his love, and I thought that was what happiness looked like. Then, by accident, I found his other phone. It was the latest iPhone. On it, another woman called him "sweetheart" and "Noah", and complained that the newest designer bag still hadn't arrived. I didn't know why she was calling him Noah, but I knew one thing: Liam had lied to me. He'd enjoyed a better life all along. He'd simply left me out of it. If his heart had already strayed, it was time to leave a marriage I'd been the only one believing in.

My twin sister and I were born with the same face and nothing else in common. Elara was gentle enough to step around an ant. I was vicious. Cross me and I'd take your skin off and never lose a night's sleep over it. The year we came of age, the Crown Prince chose Elara. But the old court held that royal twins brought ruin. If Elara was to be Crown Princess, I had to die. So our parents wept and begged me to drink a death-simulating draught and disappear forever. Before I left, I made three demands. First, my Shadow Guard would pass to Elara. Second, she'd have a dowry worthy of a princess and a wedding no one could sneer at. Third, if the Crown Prince ever wronged her, they'd bring her home. They swore to all three. They told me that once I was gone, Elara could take the throne beside him without a whisper against her, and never want for anything again. I drank the draught and rode north to the frontier. I thought one life of mine was a fair price for a lifetime of hers. Three years later, pain tore me out of sleep. Twins share what the other feels. Something had happened to Elara. I rode for the capital through the night, and my sister was gone. A woman I'd never seen was being crowned Empress in her place. And our parents sat below the dais, smiling. Three years, and they'd forgotten one thing. Elara was the only one who ever kept me on a leash. And she wasn't there anymore.

After a wild month of partying across half the world, I unexpectedly found out that I was pregnant. I flew home overnight to surprise my husband, only to find a new nanny had moved into our house. Before I could say a word, she slapped me across the face. "What's a vixen like you doing here?" she snapped, fierce and full of herself. "Get out! This is my daughter's house! Out, out, out!" My hand froze halfway to dialing 911. I shot back instead, "Who's your daughter?" She settled onto the leather sofa I'd bought, crossed her legs smugly, and said, "My daughter is Paige Griffin, and her husband is Bradley Ford, Morlene City's hottest new rising star. Did you hear that clearly, or are your ears just for show?" My head started buzzing. I looked down at the wall-sized print of my wedding photo with Bradley and let out a bitter laugh. If her daughter was Bradley's wife, then who did that make me? Me, the proud daughter of Morlene City's richest man, had been reduced to being someone's mistress?

After we got married, my husband, Mason Callahan, handed over his debit card and told me to treat myself, no limits. Then his mom ended up in the hospital. The second he asked me to transfer the money for her treatment, I told him that there was none left. He flew into a rage. "I give you ten grand a month! How the hell can you have zero dollars left? "I said you could treat yourself, but you actually blew through every cent? You didn't save a dime? God, how did I end up marrying such a wasteful woman?" I didn't bother arguing. I simply asked for a divorce.