Plot Twists Short Stories & Ruthless Biological Family Novels

On the day of my engagement party, the fake heiress of the Sharpe family, Angelina Sharpe, bursts into the hall while covered in wounds. She falls to her knees before me and begs for mercy. "I've learned my lesson, Char. I never should have taken your place as the heiress of the Sharpe family. I'll leave right now. Please spare me." Dad refuses to listen to my explanation and slaps me. "How could you be so despicable? She's my daughter too." My fiancé, Henry Fuller, is wearing a furious expression as he steadies Angelina. "I'll never marry a woman with a wicked heart like you, Charlotte Sharpe." They seem to be deaf to my explanations and send me to the infamous Trueheart Academy. "You can come back once you've learned how to behave yourself!" No one in the family visits me even once in the three years that I spend there. I am electrocuted and put in solitary confinement. I'm also publicly humiliated. My sense of shame and self-esteem are completely shattered. Later, my family finally takes me home when Angelina and Henry are engaged. I've become the well-behaved woman they want me to be, but they're the ones who lose their minds.

After my parents passed away, Uncle Mike took me in. When greedy relatives tried to snatch away my inheritance, he chased them off with a kitchen knife. “As long as I’m here, nobody lays a finger on this girl!” Aunt Rachel doted on me, calling me her precious baby and making me nutritious meals every day. My cousin Pete secretly slipped me pocket money and made sure to pick me up and drop me off at school, afraid I might get bullied. The neighbors all said I was lucky and to repay their kindness someday. On graduation day, I cooked them a lavish meal to show my appreciation. Every dish was laced with rat poison. I didn’t spare a single soul, not even the neighbors. I killed them all!

After my sister finished cutting the cake on her 18th birthday, she pouted and suggested we play hide-and-seek. Just before the blindfold went on, I saw her exchange a look with our parents. I did not think much of it. Not until I finished counting to one hundred, pulled off the blindfold, and found the entire villa empty. I called my parents again and again. Every call was cut off, so I opened social media. One minute earlier, my sister had posted a photo. In the photo, she and our parents were wearing sunglasses, lounging on beach chairs in Chesroy Isles. The caption read, 'Escaping the heat abroad with family. How nice!' I did not even need to check to know what my mother had commented. 'Don't tease her like that next time. She's already pitiful enough being ugly.' Except there would always be a next time. And every time would be worse than the last. I stared at the ocean in the photo. Then, all at once, I felt there was no need to feel wronged anymore. I turned off my phone and picked up my suitcase. There were three hours left before my flight overseas—before I cut ties with them for good. From now on, the three of them could enjoy themselves without me.

Just because I left a window cracked for half an hour, my younger brother caught a cold and ran a raging fever in the middle of the night. Enraged, Mom locked me inside a freezing, thirty-below cellar. "How on earth did I give birth to a cold-blooded monster like you?! You won't be happy until you've killed your own brother, will you?! Since you love the cold so much, get your butt down there and cool off!" Down in the dark, I sobbed and begged Mom for mercy, but the biting cold slowly drained every bit of warmth from my body. Mom didn't care in the slightest. "I'm starving you for three whole days to teach you a lesson! This is what you get for being a jealous brat!" My brother's fever broke the very next morning. To make it up to him, Mom took him on a three-day trip to an amusement park. When Mom finally came back, standing at the top of the cellar to demand if I had learned my lesson, all she received was endless, deafening silence. Because I had already been dead for three days.

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, Nancy Wood, wanted to be the family's only child, so my mother had my name changed and handed my identification documents over to my grandmother. She even told me I had to pay for everything if I wanted to live under their roof. The change and coupons Nancy got from her shopping were the sole source of allowance I'd get. If she saved 30 dollars from her shopping trips, I would get 30 dollars next month. It was the last day for all students to enter their applications for college. I begged my sister to let me use her computer. She extended her hand. "You have to pay me 20 bucks." I fished all the money out of my pocket. I only had 19 dollars. So, I hastily blurted in a panic, "I'm only one dollar short. Please!" Nancy arched her eyebrow at me and shook her head. "Don't even think about it! It's 20 bucks and not a penny less! If you can't afford it, then don't use it! It's not as if someone's pointing a gun at you for you to go to college!" My mother watched at the sidelines impassively. Then, she took Nancy's side. "She's right. You remember the rules. You can't use our stuff for free!" Time was running out. I barged into my room to scrounge for money. Fortunately, I finally found a dollar in the corner of my bed. Then, I charged right at the computer, ignoring Nancy's sullen mood. The notification froze me to my bones. "Application time is up." It expired just a minute ago. My eyes were glued to the screen, my blood turning to ice under my skin. I could distantly hear my mother comforting Nancy. "She's just some distant relative. You shouldn't get worked up over her." A surge of bitterness welled up inside me as I sent a message to my teacher, "I'll go to Lorantia." After all, I was nothing but a relative. So, I should know my place and stop troubling them any further.

After the fire, my younger brother, Ethan Harper, and I have become comatose. Our own parents choose to deliver us to the rebirth trial. If we pass the trial, we'll regain consciousness and be granted a brand new life. The sensory caps are attached to our heads and soon connected to our brainwaves. Ethan chokes out, "Since Mom and Dad loves you so much, you'll definitely receive their votes, Emma." I turn to look at the judge instead. "After I'm reborn, can I request a new pair of parents? It's fine if the answer is no. My parents will still die, anyway."

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 the fire broke out, Mom instinctively scooped up my younger sister, who had asthma, and ran for the exit. Dad shielded them as they rushed toward the stairs. A cabinet toppled over and crushed my leg. The pain was so intense that I could not even scream. Mom glanced back at me, but all she shouted was, "Suzanna, keep up!" It was the phrase she had said to me more than any other throughout my childhood. At the amusement park, when my shoelaces came undone, Mom told me to keep up. By the time I looked up, she was already far ahead with my sister in her arms. On rainy days, she told me to keep up too. She put a raincoat on my sister while I pedaled my bicycle behind them, struggling to catch up. "Your sister is sick. We have to take extra care of her," she always said. I had always been a good girl. When I fell, I did not cry. When I was hungry, I did not complain. Even now, as the flames threatened to swallow everything around me, I lay in the thick smoke and watched their retreating figures disappear into the distance. All I could manage was a soft whisper. "I'm sorry, Mom. "This time, I don't think I can keep up."

My world is simple. Everything has a price. A goodnight hug from Mom costs one dollar. Three minutes of Dad spinning me around in his arms costs five dollars. I keep track of it all in my head, then count out the coins from my bear purse to pay them. Dad calls it "splitting bills". He says it teaches me to be independent and never leech off others. I don't have any friends because I have no idea how to pay for friendship. I'm not scared of monsters in the dark. I'm scared of Dad looking over the bill and saying, "Kevin, you overspent on love today." So, I save every penny I can, hoping to buy more and more love. Then comes the day a stranger offers me a candy wrapped in shiny paper. Out of habit, I ask him how much it is. He says it's free, and I just need to walk with him for a while.

My daughter has been kidnapped, and the kidnapper is asking for five million dollars as ransom. I can just about scrounge the money together, but the kidnapper makes it clear that he wants a life in exchange for my daughter's. He'll take the money and kill the person who brings it to him. I smoke throughout the night, my eyes bloodshot as I try to think of something. Then, I fix my gaze on my mother, who is now senile and insane.

While on a car trip, our car is struck by falling rocks and breaks down on a remote mountain road. My sister, Renee Olsen, is terrified. We wait three hours before a passing vehicle finally comes. The driver rolls down the window. "I can only fit three people in my car. How many of you are there?" My mom, Penny Ziegler, lets out a relieved sigh and smiles. "Great, there are three of us." My dad, Leonard Olsen, immediately shifts slightly to the side, completely blocking me from view as I cower in the back seat. They get into the car with Renee and leave. Ten minutes later, Mom sends me a message. "Renee is in shock. We're bringing her to the hospital for a check-up first. You stay right there with the car and wait for us to pick you up." I glance at my leg that is bleeding from cuts caused by shattered glass and reply, "Okay." I wait from day into night until my phone battery dies, yet my parents never return. They never pick up my calls or reply to my messages. A team conducting geological surveys nearby discovers me, barely conscious. They arrange for a tow truck and rush me to the hospital, as I'm burning up with a fever. The doctor frowns when he sees my leg. "Why did you wait until now to come in? Young lady, your wound is infected. You need surgery to debride it. Where is your family? Get them here quickly to sign it." I slowly unclench my stiff fingers and take the surgical consent form. Calmly, I pick up the pen and sign my name. "I can sign it myself. They've already forgotten about me."

My mother always says, "Children are like little tree branches. If you don't prune them, they'll grow crooked." I'm the tree that's been pruned until nothing but the trunk remains. Ever since I was five, I've been told not to laugh when I'm happy because it means I'm getting carried away with myself. I'm not allowed to cry when someone bullies me because, as my mother says, "There is no smoke without fire." In other words, if I'm being bullied, I must have done something to deserve it. When I score 98 on a test, my parents only ask, "How did you lose those two points? Did you get complacent and make mistakes?" When relatives praise me for being well-behaved, my parents interrupt them in front of everyone and say, "She's just putting on an act. She's an absolute lazy bum at home. Don't let her fool you." Over time, I learn to bury every emotion deep inside and turn myself into the perfect creation my parents want me to be.

I loved Jason Lacroix for six years, but I never told him. I was his adopted sister. We weren’t related. I was also his assistant, responsible for everything in his life. I did not know who exposed my feelings toward him in public. I could never forget the icy glares in his eyes. “Madeline, you should know your place.” He thought I was mentally unstable. He listened to Camila Fisher, his first love, and sent me to a mental asylum. After I was discharged, he regretted his decision.

Zoe Jensen's parents kick her out because she doesn't want to share them with Alice Reed. She ends up homeless on the streets. She ultimately dies of starvation. When she's reborn, she finds herself standing before Alice. The latter is crying and begging her. Zoe is delighted by this. Alice can have her parents if she wants them—Zoe doesn't want to lose her life because of them again!

A curse is cast upon everyone in this village, reducing us to mutes. But once a villager's lover takes three laps around the back mountain and marries said villager successfully, the curse on that villager will be broken. My childhood friend, who's the same age as me, has already gotten married and embraced his life as a regular person. Even my cousin, who's just turned 18 years old, has her curse broken as well. I, on the other hand, am about to turn 30 years old soon, and yet I'm still a mute. Whenever I'm about to get married, all of my ex-fiances, who kept telling me that they'd love me with all their hearts, would do anything just to terminate our engagements right after they came out of the back mountain. In order to proclaim his deep love for me, my tenth fiance, Isaac Jameson, tells me confidently that he'd definitely marry me once he's done with his laps around the mountain. But as soon as his words fall, his expression changes the moment he sets foot into the mountain. To my horror, Isaac picks up an axe from the ground and begins hacking at me with it. "Why are you still alive in this world? Why can't you just die already?" I can only lie on the ground while suffering from intense pain. I have no idea what's in the back mountain and why the same outcome will happen every time. Why is it that the entire village can break their curse so easily, and yet I can never get married despite having gone through it ten times in a row?

The day I get into Harton University, one of the top colleges in the country, everyone in town is proud of me. "Lindsay, you wouldn't be where you are today without your mom!" "Your dad is gone, and your mom had to raise you all by herself. It couldn't have been easy!" "We've all seen how much she's done for you over the years. Good deeds really do get rewarded." Mom smiles and tells me to get a bottle of good liquor from the cellar for everyone. I go down there, but instead of finding the liquor, I uncover a merit ledger hidden amongst the bottles. It is written in Mom's neat handwriting. "May 17. I deliberately poisoned our neighbor, Mr. Lowe, and killed him to gain blessings for my daughter's studies and help her become the top student in the country."

When I was ten, I transmigrated back in time and became the child of a poor farming family. My mother had an old injury, and my father had an eye condition, so the whole family depended on my labor to survive. When I was sixteen, there was a locust plague that summer. Our fall harvest was cut in half, and by deep winter, we had no grain left. I faced the wind and snow wearing a threadbare cotton coat just to find food. Halfway home, I froze to death, still clutching half a loaf of bread against my chest. After I died, though, my soul suddenly returned to the modern world. I saw my biological parents gathered around my older twin brother, laughing and chatting. There had never been any transmigration. The medieval city was a prison they had built for me. It had all been a controlled experiment run by my brilliant scientist parents.

With my first paycheck, I buy three air conditioners for my family. But when I come home from work, I find that my west-facing bedroom is still sweltering like an oven. And there's a huge winter melon sitting on my bed. Mom proudly pats its skin. "We moved the air conditioners into your brother's and sister's rooms. We had one left over, so we installed it in your sister's art studio. "The outdoor unit for your room would be right outside your sister's window, and the humming would keep her awake at night. Just sleep with a winter melon. It'll keep you cool enough." I open my mouth, but the dull ache in my chest leaves me unable to speak. She has forgotten that I was hospitalized for heatstroke just last month. The doctor warned me to stay out of the heat after I was discharged. I turn toward the studio at the end of the hallway. Cool air spills through the crack beneath the door. Dad is adjusting the lighting over my sister's easel. My brother is holding a freshly cut slice of chilled watermelon to her lips. And my boyfriend of three years is carefully adjusting the airflow for her with the remote. "Angle the vents upward. Don't let her catch a cold." I wipe the sweat from my forehead and stare at the ridiculous winter melon on my bed. Suddenly, I don't want to fight for anything anymore. I take out my phone and reply to my supervisor. "You said I could become a permanent employee early if I transferred to the new branch in Veymont. I agree." After making it through twenty-two summers, all I want is to give myself a spring that never ends.

The day I was admitted to Crownstone College, my parents threw a thirty-table banquet to celebrate my younger brother, Jason. There was a banner across the hall. [Congratulations to Jason on getting into vocational school. You've brought honor to the family.] When it was time to cut the cake, Jason made a wish in front of all the guests. "I hope my sister gets married soon and stops wasting the family's money." The relatives raised their glasses and praised him for being so sensible. Dad beamed with pride. "A boy who learns a trade has a solid future. Unlike a girl, no matter how much she studies, she'll end up getting married anyway." I sat alone in the corner. The doctor had diagnosed me with severe depression and warned that I couldn't handle any more emotional shocks. My parents said I was bad luck. They told me not to have another episode and ruin my brother's celebration. I nodded, picked up my medical report, and walked to the rooftop of the hotel. Right then, my phone rang. On the other end were my parents from eighteen years ago. My young Dad laughed through tears. "It's a girl! We have a daughter!" My young Mom's voice trembled. "Sweetheart, I just gave birth to you. "Did our child grow up feeling loved by us throughout all eighteen years?" Listening to the applause from the banquet hall below, I laughed until I could barely breathe. "Yeah, you loved your child very much. "It just wasn't me." "What do you mean? Jess, don't scare me–" I smiled in relief but didn't answer her. I could hear fireworks from below. It sounded like they were celebrating my disappearance from this family. I closed my eyes, leaned forward, and jumped.