Plot Twists Romance Short Stories & Simp Novels

I have a case of acute pancreatitis. I head to the hospital, but the doctors there refuse to treat me. Why? Because my husband is a doctor in the emergency room, and he's instructed everyone not to treat me. In my past life, he would show up with a single phone call. But, after his true love dies in an accident, he pushes the blame on me. On my mother's birthday, he poisons my whole family and repeatedly stabs me with a scalpel. "Does it hurt? Jackie was in much more pain before her death. If not for you, she wouldn't have gone out in my place. You killed her, so I'm making you and your family die for her!" When I open my eyes, I'm back to the day when I get acute pancreatitis after drinking the bar dry for his sake. This time, he runs to Jackie Morse without hesitation. He thinks he's made the right choice, but he later comes to me and grovels at my feet, begging me to take him back.

My wife went abroad for a six-month training course and unexpectedly secured a major deal.  Thanks to this contract, she was promoted to director against all odds. When I saw the news of her return in the work group chat, I immediately ordered flowers to pick her up at the airport. However, her belly, which would have been eight months pregnant, showed no signs of it. She had aborted our child, turning me into a laughingstock among colleagues. Just as I tried to swallow my anger, she told me she was pregnant with someone else’s child. She demanded that I step aside and make way for her.

Two years after I return to Cendria, I unexpectedly run into my daughter, whom my ex-wife had taken with her when she left me. "Do you regret everything you've done?" she asks, her voice dripping with arrogance. "If you apologize to my new dad, Liam, I'll try to convince Mom to forgive you." Before I can respond, an adorable little boy throws himself into my arms. "School's finally over, Dad. I missed you so much!" he exclaims. I take his hand and turn to leave. My ex-daughter is furious. "If you walk away from me now, I'll disown you!" she yells after us in frustration. I remain unbothered. She's free to do whatever she pleases. After all, none of it matters to me anymore.

After five long years of dating, Winona Shaw finally said yes. I was elated, like a scavenger who'd struck gold. I put everything I had into the engagement party, but out of the blue, Winona embraced Claude Landton instead. She even tried to frame me and boot me to jail. I canceled the party and called the cops instead. That made Winona mad, and Claude started panicking. Icily, I said, "Now, calm down. We have a lot of trials to go through. See you in court."

My obsession with Sebastian Royce was a legend among our social circle. Had he asked for a raw pearl from the seabed, I would have leapt off into the ocean to retrieve it. When he bid at an auction, I would throw millions away without a second thought—all just to catch a flicker of a smile on his face. Even when Sebastian flaunted his other women in front of me, I’d still crawl back to him like a starry-eyed fool. Everyone around us burned with frustration on my behalf. “Cynthia Stone, you’re an heiress to a fortune! Why on earth are you humiliating yourself over that jerk?” I would simply shake my head, a soft smile on my lips. “You guys don’t get it.” That was till the night Sebastian suffered an accident and a tiny, razor-thin scar sliced across his breathtakingly handsome face. My eyes flushed blood-red as I lunged forward, wrapping my hands tightly around his throat. “Sebastian Royce, go to hell.”

On the snowy mountain, Shawn Foster's neighbor, Susan Taylor, suffered from altitude sickness. He blamed me for not bringing supplies in time. He tied me up and left me on the mountain, five thousand meters above sea level. "You should experience the pain Susan went through." I rushed up the mountain to find them, completely forgetting that I was already exhausted. Without an oxygen supply, I gasped for air desperately. He held Susan in his arms and headed down the mountain. I begged him for mercy, but he did not even glance at me. I struggled, but I could not break free from the Prusik knot he tied himself. The same knot I once taught him. Three days later, he asked his colleagues about my whereabouts. "I would never have forgiven her so quickly if it's not Susan's kindness." But he did not know—I had long been buried beneath the snow.

Everyone says Zachary Suffold is hopelessly in love with Madison Fulmer. He's stayed by her side at her poorest, working three jobs a day to support her so she can focus on playing the piano. He's drunk himself into the hospital with a bleeding stomach just to secure performance opportunities for her. Over the last three years, he has poured his heart and soul into turning her into a renowned pianist. He's especially protective of her hands, the very hands she uses to play the piano. Once, a rival deliberately threw boiling water at Madison's hands. Without a second thought, Zachary threw himself in front of her, using his own body to shield her from the scalding water. Madison walked away unharmed, but Zachary suffered third-degree burns. Even now, an ugly scar remains on his arm. Later, someone from the orchestra asks Madison, "When do you plan to marry Zachary?" She merely frowns in displeasure. "When did I ever say I'd marry him? He's not even my boyfriend. He's just a loyal little simp who does whatever I tell him. He's not good enough to marry me." Little does Madison know, she's not good enough for him, either. After all, she's nothing but a stand-in.

The battery on my front door smart lock died, so I called a locksmith to come over. While he was working on the lock, he made small talk. "Dude, this lock comes with six spare keys. Did you lock all of them inside the apartment?" I froze. I've lived in this apartment for three years. My wife and I each have one spare key. The other three were always kept in the hallway drawer. That makes five total. So where's the sixth key?

On the day of my wedding to James Jonas, his best friend, Mia Rodriguez, appeared in front of me, pregnant. She cried with tears in her eyes, “Ames, you have everything. Please, just give James to me. I’m having… his baby…” I ripped off my veil and threw it on the floor. Turning around, I saw James' panicked eyes. Perhaps he remembered our contract: If anything goes wrong with this wedding, his fortune will be mine.

Everyone said I was Liam Reed's simp. He suffered from congenital hyperalgesia—a condition that made even the slightest bump send waves of unbearable pain through his body. So when his enemies attacked him, I took a knife meant for him. When his family subjected him to brutal punishment, I endured ninety-nine lashes in his place. Each time I suffered for him, Liam would hand me a point card. "Mathilde, every time you take the pain for me, you earn 0.1 points. Once you reach 100 points, we'll get married." For five years, I accumulated points, nearly dying more than once. Finally, my score reached 99.9 points. One day, I went to the hospital for a follow-up appointment. Years ago, I'd shoved Liam out of the way of a speeding car and taken the full impact with my legs. My injuries had never fully healed, and lately, the pain had grown worse. While waiting for my appointment, I happened to see him accompanying his first love, Victoria Adams, who had disappeared years ago, to a prenatal checkup. As I waited, I overheard Victoria say she wanted Liam to experience labor pains for himself. I knew Liam better than anyone. Even a routine injection made him clench his fists and grit his teeth. There was no way he'd agree to something like that. Yet, without a moment's hesitation, he lay down in the simulator chair and let them turn up the intensity. I stood frozen behind the glass partition, watching him writhe in agony. He was in so much pain that he nearly lost consciousness, yet he never once asked them to stop. By the time he came out, my old injuries had flared up so badly that my legs had gone completely numb. "Victoria just came back after all these years. I can't abandon her now. If you keep making a scene, I'll wipe out every point you've earned," he told me, his face pale from the pain. I smiled faintly. "Forget it. I don't want that final 0.1 point anymore."