Plot Twists Romance Short Stories & Ruthless Novels

To cure my husband Samuel Harding's condition, I chose to major in urology, specifically male urology, when deciding on my field of study in college. After graduating, I became an andrologist. Yet, even after successfully treating Samuel, he wasn’t grateful. Instead, he secretly mocked me, calling me the ‘Master of Fixing Men’s Private Parts,’ and admitted that the thought of me made him feel sick. So, I calmly decided on divorce. However, on the eve of our divorce, he changed his mind.

Three years ago, I was the most promising member of the Scientific Expedition Team. After entering Salakole, I was killed by my fiancé's true love, Vivian Fowler. She stole my supplies, scratched my face, and pushed me off the ship. I died with my second child in my belly. But when the rescue team came, Vivian said I had stolen her supplies and was going to flee. My fiancé, Winston Patton, wrote a report and erased me from the expedition team. From then on, I became a joke. All the people on the team looked down on me. Until three years later, someone discovered my long-frozen body.

Marcus's sixth patent had just gone through, and he said he was going to give me the grand proposal, the one that would close out four years of dating. The campus quad was covered in candles and roses. Marcus stood in the middle of it holding a bouquet, his eyes shining. He was halfway through his speech when his graduate student Claire threw herself into his arms. The plain silver band on her finger, identical to his, caught the candlelight. The crowd went still, then started murmuring. Every face turned toward them with the kind of look people get when they think they've stumbled onto a secret. And I was standing in the middle of that crowd. His girlfriend of four years, the one he had kept hidden the entire time, watching them hold each other. Watching him swallow the rest of his speech. Watching him hand my flowers to her. My phone buzzed in my hand. A message from S. "Sweetheart. Have you thought about it? We know we were wrong."

My newlywed husband wants to kill me. He's backing me to the balcony with a knife in his hand. The blade pierces my heart, and he shoves me off a 20-story building. At the same time, I see the tear streaks on his face. He says, "Long time no see, my perfect lover."

My stepdaughter, Alana Greenwood, brought me some abortion medicine on her Coming-of-Age Ceremony. Everyone around knew of her little "prank", but none came to stop her. Even my husband just stood and watched. I smiled bitterly as I took the medicine and drank it in one go. I immediately felt the pain in my lower abdomen. My head began to spin, but I could still hear the harsh tone in Alana’s voice. "Well, did you think you could replace my mother after giving birth to your child? Let me tell you this, Dad agreed to marry you back then because I was young and was in need of a free nanny! If you dare think about replacing my mother, you will be kicked out of the Greenwood family!" I covered my stomach and took a deep breath. "There's no need for the trouble. You're an adult now and I've completed my task. I'll leave... tomorrow."

Five years after marrying Blake Sullivan, I make a dumb move. I chase his favorite lover out of the country in hopes that he'll come back to me. He doesn't say anything after finding out. Instead, he makes my family go bankrupt and forces my father to his knees before him. My mother's hair goes gray overnight. Now, he stands before me. It's my turn to suffer his wrath. "It's my fault for treating you too well, Karen. It made you cross the line. It's time for you to experience what hell on earth is like."

When Tanya Spencer was eighteen, she was sexually assaulted by a stranger who was drunk. She went straight to the police. Despite the fear and enormous pressure she faced, she refused to back down and made sure the powerful, well-connected man who had assaulted her ended up behind bars. But the trauma he left behind ran deep. For years afterward, even having a man come too close would make her tremble uncontrollably. Sometimes the nausea was so overwhelming that she would throw up. Tanya thought this was simply what the rest of her life would look like. She felt ruined. Tainted. Like she'd never be able to love someone or live a normal life again. Then Preston Hayes came along. He was the head of one of the most powerful families in Harbor City, a man who could have had almost anyone he wanted. Yet for some reason, he chose to pursue her, an ordinary woman carrying scars she believed no man could ever accept.

Two years ago, my entire family boarded a luxury cruise ship for an ocean getaway, only to be ambushed by abductors. My parents and younger brother were all murdered. Meanwhile, I leaped into the sea, fighting for my life. Nigel Heath was the one who saved me from the water. Before my family's bodies were even recovered, my relatives rushed in, trying to seize control of the company. Again, it was Nigel who helped me hold onto everything. He stood by me, supported me, and eventually proposed to me. I agreed with tears in my eyes. Two years have passed since we got married. One day, I catch Nigel fooling around with the housekeeper he's hired for a high sum. "When are you going to make me your wife, Nigel? When can I enter your room without having to sneak around?" He kisses her and laughs. "Running out of patience?" She complains, "Her company's almost yours, so what are you waiting for? Aren't you worried you'll lose everything when she finds out you killed her parents?" He immediately grips her neck tightly, his gaze turning frosty as he growls, "She won't know as long as you keep your mouth shut. Her father killed mine, so I'm going to keep her by my side forever and torment her for life. "I'll give you what you want once she transfers the final patent to me. Step a toe out of line, and you're getting nothing." I stand outside the door as tears silently stream down my face. My husband killed my parents and is even plotting to steal the company they established! The murderer has been by my side this whole time! My parents and brother died so horribly. How can I let Nigel get what he wants?

I notice that the surveillance camera we bought when we got married keeps glitching. I casually open the accompanying video app while I request an on-site repair from customer service. I suddenly hear Edward Zucker, my husband who swore to love me for the rest of his life, wishing for my death. "Maddie treats me well and hasn't done anything wrong. She has lost her parents in the car accident, though, so she's of no use to me now." I then hear my seemingly gentle and kind in-laws, Victor Zucker and Mary Smith, thoughtfully toss out various suggestions. "You can just sneak something into her food since she's allergic to so many things. You can also claim she suffered from depression after losing her parents and jumped off a building, then cremate her body on the very same day. "Your cousin just got diagnosed with a psychiatric condition, so he won't face criminal charges for murder." Edward struggles to pick the best way for me to die. "It can't look suspicious. I have to secure the three-million-dollar inheritance her parents left her without a single slipup." I tremble violently with rage. If they want me dead, then let's see who ends up dying first!

When I become pregnant with Ryan Hurst's child—at the same time his so-called first love, Kate Davis, do—he doesn't hesitate to claim hers, while ignoring mine. My child is thus branded an "illegitimate child". Ryan, the eldest son of the powerful Hurst financial empire, looks down at me with eyes like frost. "Kate is a real socialite. She can't have her reputation tainted by… this," he says coldly. It turns out that our seven years of marriage were nothing but a lie. The day my adopted family, the Kleimanns, forces me to get an abortion, Ryan is in another country, playing the doting partner at Kate's side while she gives birth. When we meet again, I will have already burned the bridge between us with my own hands. What none of them know is that behind Kate's polished smile lies a festering rot. And as for me, I am the sole heiress to an old and powerful aristocratic bloodline.

My best friend passed away from postpartum hemorrhage. Ethan said he didn't want his child to grow up without a mother. To repay my best friend for saving my life years ago, I became the child's mother. I gave up my career and ambitions, willingly becoming a full-time housewife. For seven years, I cared for both father and son as if it were my life's mission. Yet, he always remained distant, his tenderness surfacing only in the quiet intensity of late nights. Afterward, he would hand me a few birth control pills. On New Year's Eve, my throat felt strange. I swallowed the pills, only to immediately vomit them all out. Ethan was furious and accused me of harboring ulterior motives. As punishment, he locked me outside on the open balcony in the rain. Our son came running with an umbrella in hand. But he walked past me without a glance and handed it to the housekeeper who was heading out. In that moment, I made up my mind—I would leave.

I've been in a long-distance relationship with Xavier Harrington for four years. Every time we meet up with each other, the first thing he says to me is, "You've gotten fatter… and shorter." When my friend finds out about it, she jokes to me, "Maybe he has another girlfriend who's taller and thinner than you." It's supposed to be a joke, and yet I take it seriously. It explains why I've decided to travel a span of 1,800 miles just to seek Xavier out at the city he's stationed to. But that's when I accidentally stumble upon Xavier going on a stroll with a young woman side by side. I trail behind them, only to see them going to a cafe that's filled with people. There, they line up so that they can snap commemorative photos. However, whenever Xavier's hanging out with me, he often turns my suggestions down impatiently. To him, lining up at such places is a waste of time. Later on, Xavier and the woman secure a table in a restaurant. There, Xavier pulls out a chair for her before he starts setting out the cutlery for her. Even when the food is served, he will subconsciously push the woman's favorite dish in her direction. For the first time ever in our relationship of eight years, I find out that Xavier can be caring when he feels like it. I watch as Xavier chats animatedly with the woman at the table. He shares everything with her, be it the irritating experiences at work or the funny and interesting incidents that have happened to him so far. Then, I lower my head to look at the short text messages Xavier has sent to me in the past. "Time for work. It's lunch time. I'm about to nap." Suddenly, I find my relationship with Xavier extremely boring, so I dig out the invitation sent by my company regarding their outstation request and tap on it. After all, I no longer want anything to do with this flawed relationship anymore.

For ten years, I stood by Natalie Prescott as she went from having nothing to her name to building a fortune worth hundreds of millions. Yet in all that time, she never once takes me to a restaurant where a meal costs more than 100 dollars per person. With our tenth anniversary approaching, I finally send her a link to a high-end steakhouse I've had bookmarked for ages, hoping we can celebrate somewhere special for once. But the moment she sees it, her expression darkens. "Gabriel, I know we're doing well now, but we can't afford to get complacent. We need to remember where we came from. Frugality is a virtue, and we can't lose sight of that." She has a point, I tell myself, so I drop the subject without another word. It isn't until I go to cancel our reservation that I spot Natalie sitting across from a young man in the very restaurant she refuses to take me to. She's cutting his steak into bite-sized pieces and placing them on his plate, then gently wiping a smear of sauce from the corner of his mouth. I recognize him immediately—Ryan Mitchell, the company's newest intern. He's only 21. "Ms. Prescott, I really can't eat another bite," Ryan says, glancing at the spread of food on the table. "But look at how much we've ordered. We're wasting so much food." "Don't worry about it. As long as you're enjoying yourself, it's not a waste." Natalie gazes at him with unmistakable affection. "I'll just take the leftovers home to Gabriel." "But… they're my leftovers." Natalie laughs softly. "It's fine. Gabriel is with me when times are tough. He's not picky." Ryan chuckles. "So let me get this straight. He sticks around for the hard times, and I get to enjoy the good life?" Natalie doesn't answer right away. For a long moment, she simply looks at him. Then she finally murmurs, "Yeah." I stand frozen, gripping the reservation slip so tightly that my nails dig into my palm. Yet somehow, I can't feel a thing. Ten years. I spend ten years standing by her side—helping her build the life she has now—only to discover that, in her eyes, I'm the man who has to settle for scraps while someone else gets to enjoy the rewards. The hostess approaches me with a polite smile. "Mr. Cole, reservations have been hard to come by lately. Are you sure you'd like to cancel yours?" I swallow the bitterness rising in my throat and glance at the couple across the room one more time. Then I turn back to the hostess. "No. Keep the reservation. And please bring me your most expensive tasting menu."

The wife of the richest man in the Northston enjoys tormenting beautiful young girls. I, born without the ability of feeling pain, became her perfect target. So, during yet another instance of being bullied in the school bathroom , this billionaire couple found me. They brought a lot of reporters and claimed that I was their long-lost daughter. For a better life, I became the rich man's daughter and was envied by everyone. But beneath their loving facade, my new wounds concealed old ones. They said that this was the price of my protection and that I should repay them with my life. They were right. I should repay them. Only, it would be their lives, not mine.

I fell in love with the nanny's son. After boldly pursuing him, he reluctantly agreed to marry me. But I never expected his young lover to storm into my home like a madwoman, prying my mouth open to pour scalding water down my throat, pressing me into a sink full of dirty water, and finally pushing me down the stairs. My husband stood by my hospital bed, looking at my broken body with disdain. "Irene, every moment with you makes me sick," he spat, barely able to hide his impatience for my death. Yet, when I finally died, he sobbed uncontrollably in public, playing the role of the devoted, heartbroken husband. "Irene, don't leave me! You have no idea how much I wanted to die with you!" At that, I spoke softly from behind him. "Is that so?"

My wife, Christine Leigh, forced me to the brink of death all for her first love, Henry Carson. To give him a liver transplant, she sent me to the surgery table. I told her I had cancer and that the doctors had advised against the surgery. She just looked at me with an undisguised contempt, "Jason Lowe, stop with your petty tricks. Don't forget, you owe our family your life!" I lowered my head and smiled bitterly. I never left the surgery table.

My parents died in an accident when I was 16 years old. That leaves me and my stepbrother, Freddie Sanford, to rely on each other. At 20 years old, I get drunk and confess my feelings to him. But instead of being gentle as usual, he lashes out in fury. "Rosalie Hunter, do you have no shame at all? I'm your brother!" From that day on, he gets back together with his first love, Bianca Reed. His attitude toward me plummets and turns cold as ice. What Freddie doesn't know is I'm sick. To me, every day feels like a countdown. On the day of their wedding, I quietly reach the end of my life. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to two years ago. At the same time, I learn an unbelievable piece of news. Freddie has been dead for three years.

While pregnant with twins, I'm abducted three days before I'm due to give birth. My husband, Sheldon Jackson, refuses to deliver the ransom money himself. Instead, he wants to save Madison Smith, his sister-in-law, who was also taken at the same time. In order to guarantee Madison's safety, he leaves the task of saving me to someone else. "I have to protect my brother's unborn child. Harry is my most trusted subordinate. He'll definitely bring you back home safely!" However, Sheldon doesn't know that Harry Smith wants me dead. "The children she's carrying are bastards!" he says to the abductors. "We can't let them live—both the twins and the woman." I beg the abductors to let me talk to Sheldon one more time to reveal the truth, but he hangs up on me because of Madison. When he finally remembers me, he receives a phone call from the abductors. "We've dealt with your wife for you, Mr. Jackson."

I used to work as a model, but not the typical kind. In our profession, everyone had a benefactor, someone who supported them financially. I dedicated myself to my benefactor for a year and a half, tending to his needs diligently. Despite my dedication, I was eventually abandoned. Just when I gathered my courage and decided to start afresh, he showed up again, "Do you want to date me? Officially."

For eight long years, Bryan Millan and I were married, but you’d never have known it by looking at his life. He never once acknowledged our relationship in public. Not a single post, not a single mention of me on his social media. Then came our anniversary. The day that was supposed to be about us. Instead, Bryan made an announcement on his Instagram account—just not the one I expected. There he was, hand in hand with his assistant, her draped in a wedding dress. The caption read: [When you're in love, you want the whole world to know.] The comments flooded in. [Bryan finally got married!] [Congrats! Wishing you a lifetime of happiness together!] In that moment, I could no longer lie to myself. Bryan wasn't reserved. He just never loved me. So, I decided to let go. But he wasn't ready for that. He clung to me, desperate now. But I pried his hands off and laughed—a real, genuine laugh, the kind that comes from somewhere deep inside when you realize you're finally free. Then, I looked him straight in the eye and said the words I'd been holding in, "Don't beg me to come back. Because now that I don't love you, I've never felt better."