Plot Twists Short Stories & Scumbag Face Slapping Novels

The day my son gained the lifetime achievement award in research, I died alone on the street. On stage, he thanked his father, a professor, and his biological mother, who had just returned from abroad. He even thanked the nanny at home. But he left me out, his foster mother who had raised him. My husband, Charles Zimmer, learned about my death. He immediately disassociated himself from me. “We’ve long separated. I’ve got nothing to do with her.” I had worked hard to give them a decent life, but they regarded me as a stain that they could never remove. When I opened my eyes again, I returned to the time of my life when my destiny changed. Holding the college admission letter, Charles smiled at me and said, “Yes, I’m divorced. But we can live in the city together if you marry me. I’ll let you discipline the kid if he makes any mistakes. I won’t complain about you.” During my previous life, he had me fooled by false promises. I naively thought that it would be easy to be a stepmother. I helped him care for his son and worked hard to support the family. In the end, they conspired with each other to drive me out and leave me penniless. It was because Charles’ ex-wife, who had abandoned them when he was poor, wanted to come home and remarry him. Since I had gained a second chance, I planned to dump such an ungrateful husband and son.

My ex-fiancé made me do a blood test the night before our wedding. The next day, he threw the genetic report on my face and dumped me over defective genes. The reason was that the Zimmer family only wanted perfect heirs, and he said that I was not worthy. He broke off the engagement, and instantly married the girl-next-door with perfect genes. Five years later, he reappeared in the hospital, clutching his ill son. He saw my daughter who had similar rashes, and he thought I had given birth to his daughter in secrecy. Little did he know that my daughter had nothing to do with him and only had a mild seafood allergy. I would not be defined by the so-called defective genes again, while me and my daughter live happily and healthily, it was their turn to be destroyed.

My boyfriend and I had planned to fly to LA to watch our favorite MLB team play at home. But on the day we were supposed to leave, I waited at the airport for three hours. He never showed. It wasn't until after dark that he finally called. “Sorry, Audrey. I forgot to tell you. Natalie found out we were taking engagement photos and got so excited she couldn't sleep. She insisted I fly out with her early to scout locations.” “You can make it here on your own, right? The three of us will meet at the stadium entrance tomorrow.” I stood frozen. Natalie Brooks was my best friend. She had watched Derek Sinclair and me go from high school sweethearts to planning our wedding, and always called herself our biggest supporter. Yet with one casual “fly out early,” Derek had left me, his bride-to-be, behind at the airport. “You two have fun.” I smiled faintly. “I suddenly don't feel like going anymore.” The next day, I saw Natalie's latest post. She had uploaded a photo of herself with Ryan Kane, my favorite player. The caption read: “Thanks to Derek for pulling strings to get me this photo. Location scouting complete. The things I do for my best friend!” I calmly liked the post. Then I called the wedding planner and canceled the wedding we were supposed to have in two weeks. Natalie never stopped talking about how much she cared about my happiness, yet she had already taken the trip and surprise meant for me. I was done sharing this relationship with a third person.

The day I got promoted, I could barely contain my excitement as I told my boyfriend the good news. Instead of celebrating with me, he suddenly went quiet. His eyes fixed on the wall behind me as if he were staring at something I could not see. "Sunny, I think I can see something." He lowered his voice, putting on an air of mystery and concern. Then, as if to prove what he was seeing was real, he reached over and gently turned my head toward the wall, so I was looking in the same direction. There was nothing there, just a blank wall. I stared at him in confusion, but his expression suddenly grew tense. "It says you shouldn't take the position at the new office. "If you go, you'll get caught up in a serious scandal. Your reputation will be ruined, and you'll end up jumping from a building." I almost laughed at how absurd it sounded, but despite myself, I still asked what I was supposed to do if I wanted to avoid such a terrible future. His eyes immediately lit up. "It's obvious. We need to get married as soon as possible. "You should have a baby sooner rather than later, then put your savings and promotion bonus into our joint account. Look, that's exactly what it says here…" He smiled at me with such warmth and certainty that, for a moment, it almost sounded like he was doing all of this for my sake. "I'll make sure you're happy for the rest of your life." My fingers tightened around my phone until my knuckles turned white. Because twenty minutes earlier, I had come across a post on an online relationship forum. [How do I get my more successful, stronger-willed girlfriend, who believes in astrology and spiritual signs, to finally do what I want?]

Every single time I get intimate with my boyfriend, Lyle Holloway, I notice he always changes the bedsheets afterward. After a frenzied release, I can't help but ask him about it. Lyle gently twirls a strand of my hair around his finger and smiles tenderly. "Of course it's because your best friend sweats buckets. Every time before I do it with you, she gets jealous and insists on going first. Ever since I met her, I've realized that women really are made of water." His response catches me off guard, and I stare at him in utter disbelief. "What did you just say?" He stubs out his cigarette, a half-smile playing on his lips. "Grace, your mom was tortured to death in bed by your dad, not by me. So, every time you lie in bed like a corpse, it really kills the mood. That's your trauma, not mine, and you shouldn't expect me to pay the price for it, got it? "In fact, you should thank your best friend. She's helping you maintain our relationship!" My best friend, Pamela Sinclair, rushes in with tears in her eyes and immediately slaps Lyle across the face. "Apologize to Grace right now, you bastard!" I gaze at the two of them, but all I can taste in my throat is bitterness. Turns out, all these years, I've been nothing more than a burdensome killjoy in Lyle's eyes. I'm done squeezing into a bed that was never big enough for three of us…

I took my husband's suggestion and got myself a college-aged boyfriend. Only then did I understand why my husband never came home whenever he was with his college-aged girlfriend. In simple terms? It was too damn good. I let the young man stay in our house. I let him wear my husband's pajamas. I let him drink my husband's wine. I even gave him my husband's research data to help him write his thesis. I stood my husband up on a date so I could celebrate my boyfriend's 100th day with me. He responded by shoving me onto the bed, his eyes bloodshot. "Today's our third wedding anniversary, Madeline! Why do you only seem interested in spending time with him instead of me?" I stared at him in confusion. "What? You're the one who said we had an open relationship and that I could take another lover too!" I shot back. "I'm just doing exactly what you told me to!"

I was Don Victor’s secret wife for five years, hidden away like a dirty little secret. He made me a promise. Give him an heir, and he’d show me to the world. I’d be the Donna everyone envied. But there was a catch. A lie. His doctor told me I was barren. Victor held me while I sobbed, kissing my face. "Baby, we can still do IVF. I want a child from you. Only you." So I took the pain. Five years. 999 needles. I was finally pregnant on Christmas Day. I ran to his office to share the news, only to find him buried deep inside another woman. Julia. A Mafia princess from another family. The betrayal hit me. I turned to leave, tears in my eyes, but then I heard a truth I couldn't escape. "Don't you worry, my princess. The baby in Maria's belly? It's ours. Your egg, my sperm. She’s just the perfect vessel." My hand trembled. I backed away, silent. Then I made a call. A lawyer. "I don't care what it costs. I want a divorce from Don Victor."

Six months pregnant with my fated Alpha’s heir, I came home. And ran straight into my Beta ex at the airport. Kyle’s icy gaze raked over my swollen belly, and a cruel smirk twisted his lips. “Amelia. I never thought you’d sink this low. Trying to trap me with a bastard.” “You think you can just secretly have my pup, and I’ll bond with you? Make you my mate? Dream on!” He took a step closer, his scent thick with threat. I said nothing, meeting his glare without flinching. Contempt flashed in his eyes. “I told you before. Only pure-blooded Selena can give me an heir. That half-breed mutt in your belly? I’ll never claim it! If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get rid of it yourself!” When I didn't give him the reaction he wanted, he jerked his chin at the two wolves behind him. They tensed, ready to take me by force. "Since you refuse to handle this, I'll handle it for you," he snarled. "And if this ruins my chance to join the Blood Moon Pack, you are dead." I had to bite back a cold laugh. Little did he know, the pup he was trying to kill was the heir of Alpha Ethan—the Alpha of the Blood Moon Pack. He was the one who was truly dead.

After my husband cheated on me for the 99th time, I finally completed my collection of 99 Hermes bags. That was just his way of compensating for his guilt. I was a high school advisory teacher, working from 8 a.m. to 4 p.m. every day. After going home, I took care of his parents, who were both paralyzed and bedridden. To outsiders, I was a perfect wife. He figured he could keep me in the dark for the rest of his life. Little did he know, the mistresses he chased for a thrill were all arranged by me.

To win Samuel Zane’s heart, I lost everything. My family was ruined, and I was forced onto an operating table so he could take my heart and save his adopted sister, Xenia Zane, whose organs were failing. At the critical moment, William Zane disguised himself as a doctor and rescued me. We left the country and started a new life overseas. I used all my points to change my target from Samuel to William. “Host, I need to remind you that if you fail again after changing your target, you will be reincarnated as an animal and never become human again.” I looked at William as he knelt before me with a ring in his hand. I said firmly, “I do.” But when I gave birth to our daughter, I saw two figures standing outside my hospital room. William handed our daughter to Samuel and said, “Samuel, you’re rushing this. We need to wait until her organs are fully developed before we can take them.” Samuel’s expression remained cold. “Thanks to your plan, we were able to grow a healthy, young heart for Xenia. Don’t worry. We can just use an organ maturation agent.” “But…” “William, don’t tell me you’ve fallen for that woman.” “Of course not!” I heard him deny it immediately. “I endured everything for Xenia.” The moment he finished speaking, the system’s robotic voice rang in my mind. “Host, your mission has failed. In one month, you will be reincarnated as an animal.”

My father was Enzo Moretti, the godfather of one of New York’s most powerful mafia families. And I was his princess—his most cherished treasure. He hid me from his world to protect me, but he didn’t want me left alone, so he arranged a marriage for me. The groom was Leon Scott—the son of New York’s richest man. Handsome, loaded, and a rising star in the business world. On paper, he was perfect. For our wedding, my father had a custom gown flown in from a designer in Milan. Today was my fitting appointment. When I walked into the bridal boutique, my heart stopped. Nicole Hill, Leon’s childhood sweetheart, was wearing my wedding dress. When she saw me, a smug little smile curled her lips. Then she grabbed a cheap white polyester bridesmaid’s dress from the table and shoved it into my arms. “Put this on,” she said, lifting her chin like she owned the place. “You can wear this for the ceremony.” I looked down at the flimsy fabric in my hands, then back up at her. My voice dropped low. “I’m the soon-to-be bride. And you’re telling me to wear this?” She let out a laugh, sharp and mean. “Just do what you’re told and don’t make this difficult. Leon already gave the word. I’m walking down the aisle in your place. And you? You just stand there like a good little bridesmaid and go through the motions.” For a few seconds, I couldn’t speak. Then I pulled out my phone and dialed Leon’s number. It rang twice before he picked up. “Leon, about Nicole taking my place at the altar. Don’t you think you owe me an explanation?”

The day before our wedding, my fiance, Brandon Foster, and his girl bestie pulled out their wedding certificate at the casino. Brandon shrugged as he said, "It's just a joke—we'll be divorced tomorrow, and everyone knows that Wanda and I are strictly platonic." Wanda Stiles, however, was smiling provokingly. "Come on—they say marriage is sacred, so you guys can quit gawking already and hand us our wedding presents!" Everyone around the table laughed, with someone saying, "Alright! I own a business in the West End, and you can have it for your wedding… if you beat me at the dice game. Table rules." I didn't argue and merely sat at the table, smiling faintly as I met Brandon's frown. "The dice roll decides the wedding gift, no? I'll play too."

My mother-in-law and I were vacationing at our pack's resort. We had just arrived at the newly built Obsidian Peak hot springs and decided to hit the private healing pools on the top floor to relax. Out of nowhere, a glammed-up female covered her nose. She gagged like we reeked of rotting Rogues. "This pool is for high-ranking wolves only. How did trash like you sneak in? Ugh, I’ll need a Healer to scrub my skin raw after sharing this water." What a mood killer. I scoffed right back at her. "This is a public healing pool. Any pack member can use it. If you don't like it, leave." Her face twisted in pure disgust. "You dare talk to me like that? Do you know who I am? I’m your Alpha’s favorite. The future Luna of this pack! He’s marking me any day now. Get out, or my mate will tear you to shreds." Rowena and I exchanged a deadpan look. Ice cold. The Alpha of this territory was her biological son. And my fated mate. Since when did my Alpha get a new Luna?

Ophelia Hart had been married to Rowan Cabell for five years. He had been cheating on her for four and a half of those years. His list of mistresses could probably stretch all the way from Merion to Freeka, and the condoms he had gone through could practically wrap around the entire globe. However, Ophelia never made a scene. Whenever Rowan brought another woman to bed, she would quietly prepare a cup of warm water and a box of his favourite lemon-flavored condoms. When they were done, she would calmly arrange for the maid to clean the room. It was all because of the first rule in the Hart family’s code for women—'A husband’s infidelity is never an excuse for anger or confrontation. Never make a scene. Never raise your voice. His comfort must always come first. Violate this rule, and you will pay the price yourself.’ Ophelia had once paid that price for six months. Those six months were more than enough to make the lesson unforgettable. Hence, when Rowan wrapped his arms around Lydia Beaumont and passionately kissed her in front of everyone, then loudly announced that he was going to marry her, Ophelia merely reached into her bag. She pulled out a pack of strawberry chewing gum, offered it to them with both hands, and said sweetly, “Kissing feels better when you’re chewing gum.” Everyone burst into laughter and started cheering. They thought she had finally learned her lesson. However, they had it all wrong, because she was about to leave…

The year I was reborn was the year the vampire war began. The first thing I did was get rid of the pup. My mate's pup. Alpha Lucas's. In my last life, he covered for his childhood friend, Sarah, when she mated a vampire. He took my pure-blood pup and swapped him with her half-breed bastard. They branded me a traitor. Tortured me to death in a silver dungeon. And my own son, brainwashed by Sarah, stood over my corpse and told me to rot in hell. When I opened my eyes again, I was three months pregnant. I didn't hesitate. I walked straight to the witch's hut and drank the poison she gave me. But as the life drained away, I uncorked another bottle: an expensive Mimic Potion. It fakes a pup's heartbeat. It gives off the scent of an expecting mother. Lucas wants a child to take the fall for Sarah's crime. Fine. I'll give him a show. This time, I have no weakness.

On my wedding day, my childhood friend, Finn Wheeler, kicked open the chapel doors with a whole crowd of his friends behind him. He announced that he wanted to take me away and marry me. However, we hadn’t even gone far when he suddenly let go of my hand. Then, he laughed nonchalantly and said, “Guys, I won again for the one hundredth bet. You lost. Pay up.” Only then did he turn back to look at me. “I was just joking,” he added lightly. “You didn’t actually believe me, did you? You can go back in and finish the ceremony.” Everyone laughed at how I’d pursued Finn for ten years and how I would do anything for him. However, neither Finn nor any of them knew that being taken from the altar was just one part of my wedding plan.

When I came home to begin my postpartum recovery, my husband Martin Summerland spent a lot of money on an android because he cared about me that much. He also programmed her to treat my orders as her highest priority. I frowned at the beautiful female android called "Ruby" standing before me and wanted Martin to return her at first. But he kept persuading me to try her for a month, promising that I would be satisfied. After watching her handle every task perfectly for a month, I finally agreed to keep her. But that very night, my baby son Samson's crying woke me. Ignoring the pain in my body, I went to the nursery and found Ruby mounting on Martin, her eyes hazy. "I've spent a month serving your wife. Do you have any idea how sick it made me whenever I cleaned up her afterbirth bleeding or changed the baby's diapers? You have to make it up to me." Hearing that, Martin casually grabbed a pillow and threw it into the crib. It landed squarely over Samson's crying face, and his cries instantly grew weaker. He clicked his tongue. "It's so noisy. Are you sure you want to do it here? Then I'll make sure you're satisfied." As I listened to the obscene sounds filling the room and Samson's cries growing weaker, I dug my nails into my palm and called Syntek Robotics. "Hello. I want to make a report. Your android's cognitive system is malfunctioning and refuses to obey her owner's instructions. If I remember correctly, you said androids like that had to be destroyed, didn't you?"

At the end of December, traffic on the highway was backed up for miles, and my blind date and I started arguing over which road to take. "I told you women can't drive. The left side is obviously closer, but you insist on listening to the GPS!" While I went to the restroom, he actually drove my car away. I was left alone at an abandoned service area in twenty-two-below-zero weather and nearly froze to death. The first thing I did when I woke up was grab the police officer's hand and cry. "Officer, I’ve been robbed! There were three cases of Macallan and ten gold bars in the car!"

I, Mona Goldheart, decide to tell my mate, Edmund Ryker, about my pregnancy on my birthday. But Edmund, who never misses my birthday, misses it this time. The reason he cited was that he had to attend a very important meeting. I don't believe it. When I rush over to his company, I see him holding a birthday party for Amy Drumm, the Omega he brought back to our pack not long ago. Watching as the two of them act so intimately, I contacted Edmund through our mind-link. I ask, "Is the meeting going well?" Edmund holds Amy in his arms, laughing happily. But when he replies to me, his tone is flat, as if he really is attending a meeting. He says, "It's going well. When I finish, I'll come back and celebrate your birthday." I sneer and reply, "Turn around and take a look."

I'd been married to Aurelio Moretti, the most powerful Don in Italy, for five years, and his lovers outnumbered the guns we ran through our underground deals. But I no longer got angry, because we'd signed a contract when we got married. The first clause said I had to respect Aurelio's private life. No interfering, no scenes, or I'd face the consequences. I'd already learned what breaking it would cost me. My father, Lorenzo Silvestri, lost the funding for his treatment and was thrown out of the hospital. After that, whenever he brought a lover home, I handed him the condoms myself. So when Aurelio announced he was going to marry Marilyn Shaw, his young lover, I smiled and clapped. His men all said Aurelio had finally tamed me, the thorniest rose Italy had ever seen. Only I knew that wasn't true. I was just getting ready to leave for good.