Plot Twists Romance Short Stories & Mistress Superpowers Novels

After three miscarriages for Xavier Lowe, I see it—my mother-in-law has three years left, my father-in-law nine years, and my sister-in-law two years. I say nothing. After the third miscarriage, my mother-in-law blames me, calling me a curse who "kills" children. My sister-in-law sneers, saying she almost died in a car crash the year I married Xavier—as if my bad luck dragged her down. My mother-in-law snaps, "She can't even keep a child. It must be because she's cursed!" Xavier just stands there, silent. He doesn't say a single word for me. I know that, deep down, he believes that I bring bad luck. Maybe it's also because he already has someone else—his secretary, Yvette Snyder. His mother has always liked her better, and he clung to her the night I lost my third child. I don't explain because I know the truth will only destroy them faster. On my 28th birthday, I catch a glimpse of my own countdown in the mirror. On that day, I take a leave of absence. I go to the funeral home and pick out an urn—pure white, just like the wedding dress I once wore. Wearing a beautiful floral dress, I text Xavier, asking him to meet me at the lake where we first met ten years ago. I wait from daylight until nightfall as my countdown ticks to zero. I die, and he never shows up.

The cataclysm was upon us. The world was besieged by a wave of deadly frost, covering everything it touched in an icy coffin. We were trapped in a cave of ice, but fortunately, Joshua Frost came to our rescue just in time. I thought I was saved, but I thought wrong. Joshua didn't even give me a moment of his time. Instead, he went to my best friend's side. "Irene isn't good with the cold, and she's not in the best of health. Just hang on for a bit, Sera. The rescue squad's coming soon." When the rescue squad did come, I had passed out from the extreme cold, my body numb. While I was weakened, Joshua stripped me of my Ability and gave it to my best friend.

In my fifth year with the fallen heir, Connor Garrett, I make 99 wishes for him. As a result, I age and turn into an old woman. He, on the other hand, rises to become the richest man. However, he immediately turns around and proposes to his first love, Nadine Zeigler. He says to her, "Nadie, you have no idea how much I went through to marry you." Nadine toys with a diamond ring worth billions and asks, "What about that follower of yours who grants wishes?" Connor gives a carefree scoff. "She's just a tool who traded her youth for my fortune. Does she really think I will marry an old woman?" I stand in the shadows and silently make my final wish. Without my help, I would like to see how he will rise again this time.

When I was ten years old, I suddenly gained the ability to see red threads connecting people’s heads. Only those who had actually slept together would be bound by this unavoidable red line. Over the years, two extra red threads popped up over my father’s head, driving my mother to threaten to file for divorce again and again. Because of this, loyalty became the single most important thing I looked for in a partner. In the end, I chose Jasper—a modest, reserved man whose head was completely clean. On the night before our wedding, my bridesmaids hosted a bachelorette party. We played a game where whoever lost had to hand over their phone for the rest of us to snoop through. When it was my maid of honor Jean’s turn, she clutched her phone tightly, her face flushing red as she bashfully giggled. “Don’t look at mine! He wore me out so late last night. Those photos are definitely not fit for public viewing.” Everyone teased her for keeping her relationship so secretive, since no one had ever met her boyfriend. I was just about to step in and smooth things over when I suddenly saw a bright red thread stretch straight out from the top of her head. It wove right through the crowd and anchored itself directly onto my fiancé, Jasper. Yet, when he dropped me off at home last night, his head had been entirely clean. In fact, just half an hour ago, he had sent me a text. [Aria, I’ve saved myself for you for twenty-five years. On our wedding night tomorrow, I can finally have you. I love you!] I looked over at Jasper standing outside the door, staring at me with deep affection, and then back at Jean, whose face was glowing with passion. I raised my glass and clinked it gently against hers. “Jean, is your boyfriend’s last name Cook?”

My mom stole my dad's name and his status as the top-ranked student in the state, then gave them to her childhood sweetheart. From then on, the two thieves soared to the top. One was admitted to Ashford University and went on to become a computer science professor at one of the country's top universities. The other attended Westbridge University and became a nationally recognized expert in education. … Meanwhile, my dad was left without a legal identity, spending his entire life scraping by through odd jobs and backbreaking labor. Years later, I inherited his talent and founded a leading AI technology company, making a name for myself in the industry. Potential partners were constantly coming to me with offers. One company, in particular, approached me several times seeking a partnership. The contract they offered was tempting, with generous terms and impeccable credentials. I casually flipped through their background information. But when I reached the page introducing the founder, my hand stopped. After a long silence, I finally said slowly, “Forget it. I won’t work with you.”

It was the summer holidays. I was going to Shinborder to see my wife, then comments started popping right in front of me. "Five minutes later, your wife's going to tell you to not give up your seat for anyone." "A pregnant woman's going to ask for your seat. You refuse, as per your wife's request. That pregnant woman ends up dying a sudden death from standing too long. Her baby dies too." "Your wife's male bestie is this cabin's attendant. He'll testify that you caused the woman's death by refusing to give up your seat." "The Internet will hunt you down. Your wife will stand against you. In the end, the pregnant woman's mother will stab you eighteen times, and you die." I was stunned. Maybe this was a hallucination from teaching the SAT students for too long. Then, the moment I sat down, I got a text from my wife. "It's hard to get tickets this time of the year, Michael. It took me forever to get a first-class seat. Enjoy it. Don't give it to anyone." My hand shook. I was reminded of the last line of the comment. "Your wife and male bestie set this up. They bought out the pregnant woman so you'll be killed, all so they can get your mountain of inheritance and insurance payout." I looked at the nearby pregnant woman and went to the second-class cabin right away.