Melodramatic Short Stories & Ruthless Biological Family Novels

Claudia Hepburn had seduced his fiancé, Arthur Maxwell, ninety-nine times. However, he was still into her sister, Fione Hepburn. Not only was he nowhere to be seen on the day of the wedding, but he even went ahead and registered his wedding with Fione instead. Claudia was turned into a laughingstock after that. While she was drowning in despair, Arthur’s brother, Brett Maxwell, showed up and took her into his arms. He confessed that he had been secretly in love with her for ages and beckoned her to turn to him. Enchanted by his devotion, she decided to marry him instead. Even after five years of marriage, Brett still doted on her endlessly. That was until a shipwreck took him away. On the day of the funeral, she was so heartbroken that she felt the urge to smash her head against his coffin to end it all right there. It was only when she found she was pregnant that she gave up on the idea of ending it all. She decided she would live on and grieve her late husband for the rest of her life. Just when she was expecting the rest of her life to play out that way, she happened to eavesdrop on a conversation between her ex-fiancé and his friends. “Brett, your brother was the one who died in that shipwreck, but here you are pretending to be him. Did you do it so you could be together with his wife? Aren’t you worried about someone finding out about this?” “I can't be bothered to worry about all that now, I’ve loved Fione from the beginning. I had to endure so much humiliation and marry Claudia just so I could prevent her from ruining Fione’s happiness. Now that God has given me such a perfect chance, I will not sell myself short anymore!”

In my previous life, my brother took his sugarbaby to see a meteor shower because she said she wanted to. He drove to the countryside with all his bodyguards to create a perfect stargazing night for her. Unfortunately, business rivals whom my brother had bankrupted saw this opportunity and broke into our estate seeking revenge. My mother fought desperately to protect me, suffering severe injuries that left her fighting for her life. I called my brother repeatedly, begging him to return quickly and help us. He finally had to come back with his security team. The intruders were captured, but then terrible news came from the countryside. His sugarbaby had left a suicide note, her fate unknown. In her letter, she accused me of deliberately drawing my brother away, causing her to be tortured by his enemies before she took her own life. My brother coldly burned her letter and told me not to worry about it. Afterward, my brother was blamed for what happened, and my father promised to put me in charge of the company. However, after the celebration dinner ended, my brother brutally murdered me in my bedroom. His face showed no emotion as he coldly said, "Someone as treacherous as you should have died long ago. "You should have been the one to die, and the family inheritance should have been mine!" I died with my eyes wide open in disbelief, and when I opened them again, I could hear our enemies breaking down the front door of our mansion.

Before our wedding, my fiancée, Sarah Hargrave—a professor of medieval history—held a private ceremony in a secluded chapel in the countryside. But not with me. Under the glow of candlelight, she cradled Benjamin Wheeler—her first love, his face gaunt from the cancer consuming him—in her arms. Her smile was soft, almost reverent, as she murmured, "In the eyes of God, vows made before the altar are the only ones that matter. Even if the law says I belong to Daniel, my soul was never his." And so, to the faint echo of hymns and the scent of old incense, they drank from the same silver cup, exchanged rings, and stepped together into the dimly lit sacristy—their makeshift bridal chamber. I watched. Silent. Motionless. No outbursts, no demands for explanation. Just the quiet dialing of a clinic to undo the vasectomy I'd gotten for our future. From fifteen to thirty, I had loved Sarah for fifteen long years. But in all that time, there'd never been room for me. That space had always belonged to Benjamin, my stepbrother. So I let her go. Afterward, I joined a geological research team bound for the isolation of Antarctica—a land cut off from the world, quiet and clean. Before I left, I handed Sarah a divorce agreement…and a final gift to mark the end. I never anticipated that Sarah, who'd always met my devotion with frosty detachment, who'd never once glanced back as I walked away, would look ten years older overnight.

My sister and I got into a car crash. My heart was ruptured, and I needed immediate surgery if I were to live. My mother, being the director of her hospital, sent all the doctors to my sister instead, all just to check on her. She barely got hurt. I pleaded and begged for my mother to save me, but impatience got the better of her. She roared, "This isn't the time to take any attention away from your sister! She almost had a bone fracture!" And I died. I remember where it was. It was a freezing operating theater.

I was in the late stages of kidney failure, but my husband, Calvin Quayle, gave the kidney that was the best match for me to my younger sister, Louella Lassiter. The doctor urged me to wait for another donor, but I refused. I checked out of the hospital early. I had stopped caring long ago. What was even the point of fighting anymore? I transferred all the assets I'd accumulated over the years to Louella, finally pleasing Mom and Dad. I didn't even get mad when Calvin hovered over Louella like he was some kind of devoted nurse. Instead, I told him to take good care of her. And when my son, Nathan Quayle, said he wanted Louella to be his mom? I smiled and said yes. They got exactly what they wanted, so why were they suddenly regretting it now?

Six months ago, I was accidentally poisoned by wolfsbane. The poison is deadly, and my days are numbered. My body gradually weakens. Today, my wolf is completely gone, and I have three days left to live. On the last day before I draw my final breath, I agree to donate my kidney to my sister. Thrilled, my mate swears that he'll make it up to me someday. My sister is being swamped with insults on the college forum after she was caught plagiarizing my Belladonna thesis. But I come forward and claim that I'm the one who plagiarized it. Mom and Dad are pleased, saying I've finally become mature. At last, I've become the perfect mate and daughter in their eyes. But why are they crying after my body has turned cold and lifeless?

When I was having a heart attack, my parents, my brother, and my fiancé were all at our family casino—celebrating Eva, our adopted daughter, at her twenty-first birthday, her official debut into the mafia world. The doctor refused to operate without a legal guardian’s signature. So I called them. My father’s assistant answered. “Sorry, Miss. The Don is in the middle of a toast.” My brother and mother let it ring until it went silent. Finally, my fiancé, Adam, picked up. Music roared behind him. I could hear laughter, glasses clinking. “Cecilia,” he said, impatient. “If you can’t even show up for Eva’s party, stop causing trouble. Today is Eva’s debut. Every Don from three territories is here. Whatever drama you’re playing can wait.” I lost count of how many times they chose her over me. So after this call, I stopped calling. I signed my own name. My family thought I’d finally learned to be obedient. But they should’ve known that in our world, silence only means one thing—I was preparing to disappear for good.

On my little brother, Clover Shaw's birthday, I tear up my stomach cancer diagnosis report and use the money I've saved for treatment to buy him the gift he's been talking about for ages. But when I wake up in the early hours of the night while coughing blood, I hear the disdain in his voice. "That piece of crap he bought is just 5,000 dollars. It's not even worth as much as my cheapest game! Who would want that garbage? "He's such an idiot. It's been over 20 years, and he still hasn't figured out that we've been playing poor. He's out there working himself to the bone to scrape together my tuition fees! On top of that, he stinks so much every day! It's disgusting! Mom, who has always called me the backbone of the Shaw family, angrily speaks up. "He deserves it! You wouldn't have ended up in the ICU right after you were born just because he stole all your nutrients in the womb. You'd grow up to be young and healthy. "The fortune teller was right. He's nothing but a leech, and if we don't find ways to torture him, he'll only make your life suffer." While I collapse on the floor, tears stream down my face nonstop as I stare at the blood pooling in the trash can. "Don't worry, Mom. You won't have to fuss over my future because I won't have one…"

My little brother, Rylan, wanted to go to the park. However, Dad told me to keep an eye on him and make sure he didn't wander off. So, Rylan said he wanted to play hide-and-seek at home with me, and I agreed. Unfortunately, I couldn't find him after he hid. I searched everywhere for him. I looked through all three floors of the house and even searched the yard. At the time, I just thought that Rylan had found an incredible hiding spot. It wasn't until that evening that our neighbor brought him home with the police. Only then did I realize that Rylan had slipped out of the house while I'd been counting with my eyes covered. Terrified that Dad would find out he'd snuck off to play, Rylan threw his arms around Dad's leg and burst into tears. "Dad, Caleb threw me out of the house!" Dad flew into a rage and slapped me across the face. "How could you be so cruel? Your brother is only five years old! You told me he was playing hide-and-seek with you. You rotten liar!" But Dad... I was only seven. I tried to explain, but Dad never believed another word I said. From that day on, I ranked lower than even the chauffeur in our house. Every day, I was fed spoiled leftovers and forced to sleep in the doghouse. When I was 12, a bad woman kidnapped me and made me call Dad for ransom money. All I got in return was his furious voice yelling over the phone. "You rotten liar! You really will say anything for money, even something like this. If they won't let you live without it, then go ahead and die." The woman was so furious that she kicked me off the unfinished balcony of an abandoned building. I hit the ground, and my body was splattered beyond recognition. Before I even had a chance to feel the pain, I found myself drifting upward. Dad… I hadn't been lying.

Within hours of my birth, three dogs in our neighborhood died. My parents became convinced it was some kind of omen. They went to a self-proclaimed psychic, who told them I had been born to suffer in my younger brother's place. From that day on, every time something went wrong in my life, they treated it as proof that I was protecting him. Years later, on my birthday, I came down with a fever of 106 degrees. I could barely keep my eyes open. Mom still hauled me out of bed and dragged me into the bathroom. "Get up! Your brother has an important exam tomorrow, and you need to pray that nothing goes wrong." She turned on the shower and shoved me under the freezing water. My whole body started shaking. "Mom, please… I'm so cold." "Then stop being so weak." She looked at me with open disgust. "Your brother is going to make something of himself. You're the one who's supposed to suffer in his place. If you can't even handle a fever, what good are you? I should've let you die the day you were born!"

After my half sister, Serena Hawke, transferred to Ashmere University, she bet me she could steal Damian Cross from me within a month. I dismissed her. From that day on, Damian became a permanent second-place finisher. The first time Serena beat him, he frowned and said, "One point. I only lost by one point." After that, he calculated their scores every day. Over meals, he muttered, "How did she solve it?" Before bed, he stared at the rankings and said, "I'll beat her next time." He praised her clear reasoning, quick reactions, and even her handwriting. In the laboratory, he chose the seat beside her and responded only to her during group discussions. When I asked him to see a movie with me, he waved me off. "Serena sent me a new problem. I need to work it out." His phone was full of screenshots of her notes. Her class schedule hung beside his bed. Even in his sleep, he murmured about surpassing her. I watched the attention that had once belonged entirely to me shift toward my sister, inch by inch. Then my birthday came. Damian never showed up. I called thirty-seven times. He rejected every call. When he finally answered, he lowered his voice. "Rena asked me to watch the game with her. Wait a little longer." He hung up, and Serena immediately sent me her location: the third-floor lounge at the arena. When I opened the door, her arms were wrapped around his neck. The thread I had held taut inside my chest for half a year finally snapped. All that remained was a deep, aching exhaustion that seeped into my bones. Damian reached toward me in panic. "Rowan..." I stepped back. Anyone who could be taken from me was no longer someone I wanted.

Ever since Mom loses the baby, Dad has been spending his time keeping his late classmate's wife company. So I take scissors to our family photos, cutting him out of every single one. When Mom receives a call from my school, she overhears me telling a classmate that my dad is dead and asking if I can borrow theirs instead. Mom freezes for a moment before admitting, "Yeah, he died young." When family sports day rolls around, Mom catches me slipping a ten-dollar bill to the school guard, begging him to pretend to be my dad for the day. Instead of stopping me, she quietly hands the guard 200 dollars, making sure he attends the parent-teacher conference with me. Whenever an event requires a father figure, Mom simply lets me rent one. Eventually, it dawns on Dad that he hasn't heard anything from us in a long time. He clears his entire schedule for the afternoon to pick me up from school, but my teacher stops him at the school gate. Dad heads back home in confusion. The second he steps through the front door, he overhears me speaking to the maintenance guy. "My dad's dead," I tell him. "Do you want to be my new dad?"

My brother died, so my parents forced me to undergo plastic surgery to look exactly like him and live his life in his place. "Your brother was a genius. You can't just leave his fiancée and research project behind. You have to take over." "You've accomplished nothing with your life anyway. Getting to live his life is a lucky break for you." They seemed to have forgotten that I had my own name and that I had a life of my own. My identity records were canceled, and my parents acted as though they had every right to do it. "If you really care about our family, then you should understand why we're doing this." "We're doing this for your own good. Don't be so ungrateful." Everyone thought I would break down and run away. Instead, I smiled. "He was a genius? Fine. I will take his place." I later signed a high-stakes wager agreement with his former rival and even carried out increasingly reckless experiments in his name whilst wearing his face. "Don't go too far. You'll destroy our family…" I looked at them calmly. "I see." I tightened my grip on the letters my brother had left behind before quietly feeding them into the shredder.

When I practice standing at attention during the freshman orientation program, my mom, Jasmine Miller, decides to lock me up in a car with fully sealed windows just because I'm the first one who wipes sweat off her brow. "You were never able to stand properly ever since you were a kid! How dare you embarrass me in front of everyone with that slump of yours! In that case, you might as well reflect on yourself in the car!" The temperature in the car soon rose to 140 degrees Fahrenheit. I could only grip my throat, which is closing up rapidly, as I bang on the car window and plead to Mom to let me out. But she merely glances at the temperature shown on the monitor inside the car before locking all the doors with a jab of the remote control. "It's only 96.8 degrees inside the car! Heck, it's even a degree lower than the temperature outside! Keep putting on that act of yours, why don't you?" But what Mom doesn't know is that the car's system has already gotten disconnected from the Internet a long time ago. Seeing as the temperature inside the car is still increasing, I have no choice but to ask my orientation leader, Edwin Styke, for help. But he actually agrees with Mom's approach to things. "If every parent were as strict as Ms. Miller, none of the youngsters would grow up fragile and whiny!" Driven by sheer despair, I can only slump in the backseat. Soon, my consciousness fades away completely. Some of my peers try to plead on my behalf, only to witness the way Mom tosses her car key into the dumpster. "Kate really is enjoying her break, huh? Now that she's lying inside the car, she refuses to even move a muscle! Well then, she can lie there all she wants!" But Mom, I don't need you to free me anymore. After all, I can feel myself ascending slowly from the car. Finally, I'm free from this sauna! As I stare at Mom's furious face, I can only grip the hem of my sweat-soaked shirt uneasily. I'm sorry for embarrassing you in front of everyone again, Mom…

My older brother was always my parents' favorite child. Victor had been sickly since birth, and from the time we were little, I was expected to absorb every misfortune meant for him. When his kidneys failed, my parents took one of mine and gave it to him. By then, my own body was already failing, yet when I begged them to treat me a little better, they only glared at me and cursed. "If you hadn't taken everything from your brother in the womb, why would he have suffered all these years? You owe this family. Pay it back." With untreated kidney disease worsening inside me, I died after Victor deliberately locked me inside his basement. It was painful, and it was bitter. But this life. I've given it back to you.

After my last exam, I spotted Mom waiting in the distance in a bright red dress. I was about to run to her when my twin sister, Rosie, beat me to it and threw herself into Mom's arms. "Sweetheart, you must be exhausted." Mom stroked Rosie's hair while Grant handed her an ice-cold juice and took her backpack. I stood where I was and watched the three of them climb into the family car, with Mom and Grant fussing over Rosie from either side. Just as the car was about to pull away, Rosie suddenly said, "Wait. We're missing someone." For one foolish second, I thought she meant me. I hurried toward them. Instead, Rosie waved at someone behind me. "Ethan! Over here!" Only after Ethan Cole climbed into the car did everyone finally notice me standing beside the open door. "Vivi? What are you doing here?" "Aren't you a year behind Rosie?" Because of my health, I'd started school a year later than my twin. Once I recovered, though, all their attention shifted to Rosie. They never even realized I'd skipped a grade. I looked at their confused faces and smiled. "I just came to wish Rosie luck." "That's sweet of you." Mom pulled two dollars from her purse. "Do you have enough for the bus? I can give you more if you need it." I looked at the two dollars in her hand, lowered my head, and whispered, "It's enough." The car door shut without hesitation. By the time I looked up again, even the exhaust had disappeared. I sniffed, pulled out my phone, and typed a question into the search bar: [Can you start college early?]