Plot Twists Romance Short Stories & Mistress Revenge Novels

On the night Theo Zeller throws a welcome party for his first love, Diana Scott, she slaps me in front of everyone just because she wants my necklace. Everyone expects Theo to at least stand up for me, his wife. Instead, he rips the necklace off my neck and hands it to Diana. "She likes it. Just give it to her," he says. For the first time, I lose control and rush forward to take it back. Diana laughs and tosses the necklace onto the blazing barbecue grill. "Since you treasure it so much, why don't you pick it up yourself?" she asks, smirking. Theo grabs my arm and warns coldly, "Don't ruin Diana's night over some worthless necklace." I break free and reach straight into the scorching grill. My flesh burns almost instantly, but I grit my teeth and pull the pendant out. "Are you insane?" Theo shrieks, panic washing over his face. He has no idea that the necklace is no ordinary piece of jewelry. Hidden inside the pendant is proof that the Zellers hired hitmen to cause an explosion and framed my father for it. My father is scheduled to be executed at 6:00 am tomorrow. Tonight is my last chance to submit new evidence and request a stay of execution. Theo thinks I'm just a jealous wife fighting over a necklace. But the truth is, I'm risking my life so my father can come home alive.

The day Arthur Reed and I signed our divorce papers, his stepsister, Chloe Bennett, watched me with red-rimmed eyes. "Lilith, I'm sorry. Once I get better, I'll step aside and give Arthur back to you. You have to believe me." I could recite that apology in my sleep. Whenever Chloe cried, Arthur gave in. To keep his depressed stepsister happy, he would put another set of divorce papers in front of me. We had married four times and divorced four times. Everyone praised Arthur as a caring brother, while I was the one who had to suffer for it. Every time the paperwork was done, Arthur would kiss my cheek and say, "It's just a piece of paper. It's temporary. Once Chloe is stable, we'll remarry. You know you're the only one I've ever loved." I believed him. I kept waiting for him to come back to me. Then last month, I was rushed to the hospital after a car accident. The doctors needed my emergency contact before they could operate. I called Arthur. He sounded annoyed. "Chloe's in a terrible state right now. She needs me. You're so strong. Can't you look after yourself?" So today, when he put the divorce papers in front of me for the fifth time to calm Chloe down, I signed without hesitating. Arthur assumed I would do what I had done the other four times and go home to wait for him to marry me again. He was wrong. This time, I meant it. He would lose both me and his fortune!

The tenth time one of my paintings appeared under my sister Rose's name, I handed Adrian the divorce papers. He raised an eyebrow and tossed the agreement aside without a second glance. "Don't be dramatic. Your hand is ruined -- where would you even go without me?" I said nothing. He smiled, his tone dripping with casual indifference. "You should be grateful. Rose was the one I was supposed to marry. A few paintings is a small price to pay. A little gratitude wouldn't kill you." He blew a ring of cigarette smoke directly into my face. I choked, and the sting brought tears to my eyes. Through the blur, I was transported back to the moment my tendons were severed for his sake -- a pain that had drilled straight to the bone. He thought I had no choice but to take it. What he didn't know was that I'd already accepted an offer from the Royal Academy of Arts in London. Soon, I would be free of him for good.

My younger sister, Natasha Carter, is three months pregnant when she is delivered to a group of rich scions, who decide to play a special game with her that involves guessing her baby's gender. Unable to escape from them, poor Natasha chooses to commit suicide after suffering from a mental breakdown. Her naked body is later on discovered lying in a puddle of her own blood. I'm enraged, to say the least. My wife, Josephine Floyd, is equally furious, too. She claims that she will seek justice on Natasha's behalf. But when her childhood friend, Jacob Keller, flaunts the fact that he's the mastermind of that game, Josephine changes her tune instantly and advises me to be more gracious. "Jacob is a playful guy. Don't take what he did to heart, yeah?" Jacob remains nonchalant as ever. "Natasha got pregnant out of wedlock, after all. Yet, she pretended to be a chaste virgin." With reddened eyes, I sock Jacob in the face. I want him to pay the price with his own life too. But Josephine responds by smashing a wine bottle into my head. Then, she tosses a luxury watch she has intended to give to the winner onto my face. "Your sister is the shameless one here, Horace! Here, this watch should be enough to compensate for your loss! "Jacob is the heir of the Keller family, you know! A broke peasant like you should learn to be grateful with what you have!" With a sneer, I smash the watch into splinters. Trust me, this watch is incapable of saving Jacob and the other scions from the wrath of the family that has sired two generations of secret agents who've been carrying out classified missions for the nation.

Lily Thornton was the underprivileged student I'd sponsored for a full ten years. From middle school through college, I covered every penny of her tuition and living expenses. I treated her like my own little sister. When she was diagnosed with a rare disease, I even begged my husband, Graham Forsythe -- Chief of Cardiothoracic Surgery -- to personally operate on her. But on the day of her college graduation ceremony. I went to her apartment early to surprise her. And found Graham pressing her into the sofa, tenderly kissing her slightly swollen belly. "Graham, if Serena finds out about our baby, do you think she'll cut off my medication?" Graham pulled her into his arms, his voice laced with that condescending patience of his. "Don't worry. Serena is the kind of woman who's so rational she's practically cold-blooded. She'd never understand the soul-deep connection we share -- two people saving each other." "But to protect my reputation as department chief, she'll fall in line." "Once I get that one-of-a-kind clinical trial slot for the new drug, I'll divorce her and give you and the baby a real home." I stood outside the door, staring at the freshly stamped Phase-I clinical trial authorization in my hand. I didn't push the door open. I didn't make a scene. I simply, with perfect calm, tore it to shreds and dropped the pieces into the trash can beside me. Graham Forsythe. You couldn't have imagined this in your wildest dreams. That clinical trial slot your entire hospital had pulled every string to secure. Its lead research scientist was none other than your wife. The one you mocked for being so rational she was cold-blooded.

My husband’s the only son of the richest man in Ivoneu. As for me, I’m an orphan. His parents objected to us being together. When I got pregnant, they got on a plane and came to collect us in person. After that, I posted a picture I took with my husband, captioned, [I’m so thankful for you. Our life is going to be perfect from now on.] Little did I know that the rich girl my husband had been dating online would confront me.  She beat me until I had a miscarriage, then she stepped on my belly and declared viciously, “You are a nasty seductress! That makes the baby inside you a bad seed, too! Purging the baby is my contribution to society! “It’s just a fetus, anyway. I have more than enough money to get away with it!”

Three years into their marriage, Vivian Cole was thrown into the basement for the ninety-ninth time. Half her face was swollen, and a bruise darkened the corner of her eye. Before she could struggle, a bodyguard roughly forced her into a chair. “Last month, you sneaked into bars three times and went street racing once. You ended up bedridden for a week. Haven’t you learned your lesson?” Disappointment weighed heavily on Alexander Blackwood’s face. “When will you finally learn to behave and become a proper Mrs. Blackwood?” Vivian glanced at the restraints wrapped around her arms and gave him a faint smile. “So this is how a Mrs. Blackwood is supposed to be treated? I’m living worse than a stray dog on the street.” His expression darkened, and his chest heaved with anger. “If you hadn’t kept breaking the rules, I wouldn’t have had to lay a hand on you! “You’re my wife! You’re the face of the Blackwood family, not some woman out on the street who can do whatever she pleases!” “Rules, rules, rules! I’m sick of hearing about those stupid rules!” she snarled, her usually delicate face contorted with fury. “I just want to live as myself! I don’t want to be some puppet whose only purpose is to obey the Blackwood family’s rules!” Alexander stared at her with cold, unreadable eyes for a long moment. “Anyone could be Mrs. Blackwood. You could be, or any other woman.” Just as he turned to leave, Vivian spoke in a desperate, pleading voice. “Fine. Just don’t leave me. I’ll try harder to become the perfect Mrs. Blackwood.” From that day on, Vivian gave up street racing, stopped going to bars, followed every rule, and studied proper etiquette. But at a formal gala, she lost her temper and struck a woman who had been openly mocking her. Then her father, Thomas Cole, addressed that very woman as his daughter. Vivian froze. Alexander’s expression stiffened as well. The words on his lips shifted, and his face gradually settled into an impassive mask. “She has always been rebellious and poorly mannered. Her lack of discipline is my fault. “Get on your knees and apologize to her.” Vivian felt as though she’d been struck by lightning. After making sure he was truly ordering her to apologize, she stumbled backward in disbelief. Three years of marriage and five years of love. With just one sentence, he had reduced all her efforts to nothing. Dazed and heartbroken, she ran out into the street, failing to notice the truck approaching from the roadside. She was killed on the spot. But when she opened her eyes again, she realized she’d been given a second chance at life. She had returned to the days before her wedding.

My girlfriend, Elsa Smith, always avoided meeting my parents. Yet, she had no trouble turning around and playing the role of her ex-boyfriend Leo Quinn’s fiancée, happily meeting his relatives instead. And the meeting took place in the apartment I had prepared for us to live in after the wedding. What she did not realize was that I happened to be Leo’s distant cousin. She pretended not to know me and clung sweetly to Leo, saying, "This apartment was bought by my hubby, fully paid for." All the relatives were praising them as a loving couple. To keep me from exposing her, Elsa came over to warn me, "I’m just helping a friend deal with marriage pressure. If you mess this up, we’re done." So, I sincerely offered my congratulations. "Since Leo and I seem to have the same taste in houses and women, I’ve got some wedding supplies that I’m sure he’ll like. I’ll gift them to you both." That was when Elsa finally started to panic.

My cousin, Erin Johnson, is passionate about testing my boyfriends. Although I keep turning her offer down, she keeps insisting on doing so for me. Once she successfully seduces a boyfriend of mine, she'll dump him instantly. Then, she'll announce in our family's group chat that said boyfriend isn't a good match for me. When Erin does the same thing once again, she doesn't realize that she's stepping into a trap I've specifically set up for her. There's no way she won't step into it.

After three years of courtship, Noah Howell finally agrees to marry me. However, on the day of our marriage, he abandons me on the altar in pursuit of his dream girl, Isabella Dawson. Furthermore, due to Isabella's baseless accusation, I end up in the sanitarium. While I suffer unimaginable torture in the sanitarium, Noah and Isabella are enjoying themselves out there, living the time of their life. By the time he remembers to bring me home, I'm already a broken soul. Later on, Noah begs me on his knees, his face full of tears. "Sadie, look! It's me, Noah!" With a sneer, I ask, "Who's Sadie?"