Scumbag Plot Twists Short Stories & Novels

On the seventh year after we moved overseas, my 13-year-old daughter, Anna Jackman, is hailed as the internationally renowned piano prodigy. No matter how difficult the song is, Anna is capable of weaving beautiful melodies with it. But there's only one song that Anna refuses to play. It's a seemingly ordinary lullaby. She's worried that she might end up forgiving that despicable man again once she plays it on the piano. So, when said man, Micah Jackman, turns up on our doorstep with a piano that's handcrafted by a master craftsman and asks Anna to play him the lullaby, she just shakes her head calmly in return. "I don't know how to play that song, sir." Micah's eyes redden immediately. He grabs Anna's hand and navigates it to the piano keys. "That's impossible! Aren't you a piano prodigy, Anna? Haven't you always wanted to have a piano of your own? I've already bought you your own piano this time! From now on, if you have any wishes, you should tell me, and I'll grant them for you." Anna draws back her right hand coldly. "It's fine, sir. I can earn my own money to buy my own piano. You should take the piano back to your daughter." Micah feels as though his heart has plunged into the abyss. He immediately pulls Anna into his arms. "What are you talking about, Anna? You're my only daughter!" But Anna looks a little puzzled. "Didn't you say that Ms. Sinclair's daughter is the only one worthy of becoming your child? Didn't you give the piano you promised for me to Ms. Sinclair's daughter?" Having reached that point, Anna just smiles nonchalantly at Micah. "It's fine, sir. Since you like Ms. Sinclair, you can just raise her daughter. I'm already content enough with Mom by my side."

I was eighteen when I left Italy for Chicago. My brother Leo handed me over to his most powerful ally for “protection.” Don Damien Volkov. His eyes locked on me the first time we met. They never looked away. By day, I was his private doctor. By night, I was the only thing in his bed. His seduction was a slow, deliberate hunt. The way his body brushed against mine during an exam. A stray kiss that landed behind my ear. The weight of his hand resting on the small of my back. I fell fast and hard for his dark charm. I gave myself to him, letting him claim me, again and again. For four years, our affair was a secret hidden in the shadows. In that time, he sculpted my body, teaching it to crave his touch, molding me into his perfect obsession. Then she came back. Isabella, his exiled ex-fiancée. He sent his private jet for her. I swallowed my pride and crashed his reunion. An hour ago, his hands, still smelling of blood, gripped my chin. He forced his kiss on me. But now, right in front of me, he was stroking another woman's hair. "Elara, you're the one who climbed into my bed four years ago." "You act like a whore, but you expect me to treat you like a Donna?" The way he looked at Isabella was so tender. The way he looked at me was pure scorn. Shame burned through me. Head down, I sent my brother a coded text. Accept the Moretti proposal. I looked up. A smile bloomed on my face. "Fine. Then this is goodbye, Damien."

When I reach the underground parking lot, I find out that my husband, Victor Blake, has parked his car in a slanted manner. Great, his car has taken over my parking slot again. I call him and tell him to get his ass downstairs so that he can move the car out of my parking slot. While waiting for him, I come across a post on the Internet. "I'm screwing the brains out of my mistress right now. What should I do to avoid getting discovered by my wife, who might be home anytime soon?" The comment section goes nuts. Apparently, the original poster has left a like on one of the comments. "Park your car in a way that it eats into your wife's parking slot. That way, she'll have to call you every time she gets home. Not only do you have time to clean up the scene and protect your mistress, but you also get to tell your wife in a righteous manner that you're reserving a parking slot for her." I frown immediately. As soon as I tap on the WhatsApp chat, I hear someone knocking on my window. Victor can be seen jiggling his car keys outside the car. "What's with the rush? I did this just so I can reserve a parking slot for you, you know."

All of New York knew that Caspian Solis, the Don of the Solis family, worshipped the ground I walked on. Then an ambush left him with amnesia. Not only did he forget me and our twenty years together, but he also mistook his secretary, Ivy, for the love of his life. He tossed our matching bracelets and stared at me with dead eyes. "You are not my type. Ivy is the woman I love." My heart shattered. I tried everything to help him remember. Until I overheard a conversation between him and his right-hand man: "Don, how long are you going to keep this up? What if your wife finds out you are faking the amnesia?" Caspian exhaled a cloud of cigar smoke, completely unbothered. "She won't." "I just want to have some fun while I am young. Eating the same meal every day gets stale, doesn't it?" "When I have had my fill, I will tell her my memory came back. After all, Lorelai is the one I truly love." Standing outside the door, I felt violently sick. A thought sparked in my mind: If Caspian could fake amnesia to play me, why couldn't I? So, I accidentally fell down a flight of stairs. When I woke up, I locked eyes with Caspian's ally and biggest rival—Zane, the most feared Don in New York. I smiled and threw myself into his arms. "There you are, darling."

On our son's fifth birthday, I found the texts on Stanley's phone—from his best friend's widow: [Stanley, the kid misses his dad again. When are you coming over?] [Stanley, Archie liked a set of matching family outfits. I already ordered them. Let's wear them together this weekend.] [Stanley, Archie starts school tomorrow. I put your name down under "father." Hope that's okay?] And Stanley? He was all in: [Loretta's asleep. I'll head over now.] [My size is 3XL. Don't get the wrong one.] [It's fine. You two have always been my responsibility.] I stood there, frozen. Then I called him back in from the living room, where he'd been helping Luca open gifts. He didn't deny it. Just hugged me and started rambling. "Hallie's Howard's widow. I promised I'd look out for her and Archie. I know I messed up. It won't happen again." We'd been together ten years. Luca had just turned five. Ending a marriage over a few texts felt dramatic. So I let it slide. Believed him. We even went out to celebrate Luca's birthday. Then his phone lit up on the table: [Stanley, the kid's crying for his dad before bed. I can't calm him down.] Stanley shoved his chair back and walked out—no hesitation. I looked at Luca. He was startled at the noise. And just like that, divorce didn't feel so dramatic anymore.

While we're camping outdoors, my boyfriend, Preston Bassett, hands his cup to his childhood friend, Ashley Rankin. Instead of making a scene, I simply tell him I want to break up. "Just because I'm letting her use my cup?" "Yes." Rather than getting mad, Preston laughs. "Fine. Let's break up then. But try to stand by your decision this time. Don't come crying to me for a second chance before we've even packed up the tent." His friend chimes in from the side, "Maybe you should just apologize. If you guys actually break up, you'll be crying before you know it." Preston looks at me like he couldn't care less, a mocking smirk on his face. "She's just bored out of her mind and is looking for trouble. "Back then, she was even willing to fall out with her family just to move to this city and be with me. I'd be impressed if she could keep this up for two days." He's right. I have loved him for three whole years, and I have willingly given up everything for him. What he'll never understand is the fact that jobs can always be replaced, and the wrong person is always someone worth walking away from. I have already submitted my resignation and received an offer from a new company. So, as soon as the handover is complete, I'll leave. This time, no matter what happens, I am never looking back.

I was once the Pythia, an oracle of Apollo. After marrying the late king, I became known as the Oracle Priestess. When my husband died in battle, I faked my death and returned to the temple. From then on, I devoted myself to protecting the capital with the gods' blessing. Then one day, they brought my daughter's body into the temple. She was covered in raw, unhealed wounds, and her eyes were still open. The attendants tossed her body, wrapped in nothing but a straw mat, onto the floor. Then they stood nearby whispering. "Poor princess. The king cared more about the Rose of Highcourt than his own sister. He let her suffer until her wounds became infected and she died in agony. "King Theron was the one who sent her to the beastmen for a marriage alliance. Duke Charles was supposed to marry Princess Callista, but he later fell for Naia instead." So that was what had happened. While I was hidden away in this temple protecting Ostan, my son had turned his back on his sister for another woman. He let Naia take Callista's place, then sent his sister to live among savages. Callista survived the beastmen and everything they did to her. When they were finally defeated, she must have thought she could come home and put it all behind her. But Naia still wouldn't leave her alone. She bullied Callista every chance she got. Then she framed Callista for plotting to hurt someone, and Theron had her thrown into the dungeon. As I held my daughter's body, I couldn't bear to imagine what she had gone through in that dark, waterlogged dungeon, where prisoners were interrogated on the upper level and executed below. A corrupt kingdom like this didn't deserve the gods' protection. I begged the gods to forgive me. If this was how they treated my daughter, then I no longer cared what happened to this country.

When I'm eight months pregnant, my parents, who sold me off when I was a child, beg for my forgiveness and ask me to come home to await the birth of my baby. Suddenly, a gas explosion occurs. Without a moment's hesitation, Mom and Dad shove me aside and rush through the inferno. They are quick to carry my younger sister, Avril Holden, who suffers from leukemia, to safety. Only my husband, Zack Burton, charges into the flames like a madman to rescue me. He even brings in a top-tier medical team for my treatment after I'm rescued from the fire. In the end, I lose my baby, and a falling roof beam leaves me with a broken leg. As I hobble along to catch one last glimpse of my child, I see Zack outside the morgue, pulling Avril into an excited embrace. "Thank God, Avril! We can now harvest Ashley's bone marrow while she's unconscious, and you'll be cured! You'll be back to your old self in no time." I once believed Zack was my warm, reliable refuge, but it turns out it was nothing more than an illusion all along. The marriage I once took such pride in has become a bitter, freezing winter. If that's how it is, then I shall simply let go.

In the third year of my disappearance, Xavier Gardner has transformed into a powerful capitalistic mogul whose influence runs deep in the finance industry. At the celebratory party, he goes down on one knee and proposes to his first love, Nancy Lowe. "Back when my company was on the verge of bankruptcy, you were the one who sold all of your properties and assets just to help me tide over the crisis. Today, I want you to become the happiest woman in the world. Will you marry me, Nancy?" Amid everyone's blessings, Nancy puts on the ring while feeling extremely touched. "Mr. Gardner, it was said that your ex-wife, Victoria Zahn, had stolen all of your funds and fled with her sugar daddy when your company was in a financial crisis. "Now, she's gone missing for three years. If she ever comes back, will you choose to forgive her?" The reporter's sharp question makes Xavier's expression change drastically. His gaze shifts into one of pure ice. "If I ever find that traitorous gold digger, I'll make sure to skin her alive." As I float next to the crystal chandelier, I can only sigh while noting how deep his hatred runs in his eyes. Xavier, you will never be able to find me. After all, I already died three years ago when I was on my way to clear your debt with the loan sharks. Even the money that you've used to tide over your company's crisis is the funds that I gained from selling my family's manor…

My boyfriend abandoned me at the altar on the day of our wedding to accompany his childhood sweetheart, who was about to give birth as a single mother. Faced with the sarcastic looks thrown at me by the guests, I took off my wedding veil and headed to the hospital to confront him. I saw him holding her baby in his arms with love in his eyes. She asked him on purpose, "It's your wedding today, Sean. What if Riley gets mad at you for accompanying me during labor?" "I can get married anytime, but having a baby is a once-in-a-lifetime event. I'd be worried sick if I left you alone in the hospital.” "From this day onward, I'll be the baby's father. I won't let you both be bullied by anyone." I ended up marrying another man, but he crashed our wedding like a madman, begging me for another chance.

One day, I stood in line outside the fondue place for six hours. My boyfriend, Daryl McCabe, called. "Brooke wants Cajun food. Come meet us." Brooke Jennings was my best friend, and Daryl's ex-girlfriend. This was the thirty-fifth time Daryl had blown up our plans for her. He'd been talking about this fondue place for a month, but we could never get in, there were always too many people waiting. So I'd taken the day off and stood in line for six hours just to get us a table. Every ten minutes, I'd texted Daryl an update on how close we were to being called. Five minutes ago, I'd sent him the last one. My number was 3601. They were already calling 3595. I gripped the ticket in my hand. "Daryl, I took the day off. I've been standing here six hours. We're only six people away..." "I know," he cut in, impatient, "but Brooke wants Cajun food. We can do fondue some other time." The line went quiet for two seconds. Then his voice again, pushing. "We're literally five or six doors down from where you're standing. Just come over." I'd given in thirty-four times before this. Suddenly, none of it felt worth it anymore. "No. I want fondue." I hung up and sent my boss a text. [Vincent, I accept the overseas assignment to Zwinterland.]

My husband, Matthew Glover, fabricates a scandal to help his childhood sweetheart, reporter Melanie Reed, boost her numbers. "Mrs. Glover Sleeps Around—Multiple Affairs Lead to Repeated Miscarriages." He uses it as a gimmick to grab attention. Next thing I know, my name's in the mud and the internet's tearing me to pieces. When I bring up divorce, Matthew says I'm blowing things out of proportion. "Melanie just started at the TV station. If she doesn't deliver, her coworkers will laugh at her. You're just doing her a favor. It's not like you're actually losing anything." I don't even bother arguing with him. I simply push the divorce agreement toward him. "If you want to help her, go ahead. But we're getting divorced!"

For seven years, my girlfriend, Sienna Jacoby, struggled with emotional avoidance. She never initiated a conversation with me. Whether I discussed major or minor matters with her, she only replied with either [1: Yes] or [2: No]. Even when I showed her the medical record that confirmed my uremia diagnosis, she gave a curt response and turned to go to work. My best friend, Ethan Quinn, once advised me, "A woman like her is worse than an air conditioner. At least an air conditioner knows when to cool you down and when to warm you up. What is the point of being with someone like her?" I stroked the ring on my ring finger and smiled. "She is just sick and does not know how to express herself. She loves me." A month later, on my birthday, I arrived at the restaurant late and saw Sienna sitting next to Ethan. They leaned closely together. The woman who always acted cold toward me beamed as she carefully wiped the rain from my friend's forehead. Ethan wore Sienna's coat. I looked away and fixed my gaze on the text message I sent to her a few minutes earlier. Clint Button: [Sienna, it is raining heavily today. I did not bring an umbrella. Could you come and pick me up?] Sienna: [2: No] I stood still and realized that I was the sick one. I had been blind as a bat.

William Lloyd has never gotten over me, and to Gabriel Zeller, I'm the sister he's always doted on. But I have ambitions of my own, just like the unforgettable first love in every romance novel. So I leave the country to study abroad. At the airport, William and Gabriel promise they'll wait for me to come home. Nine years later, I finally return. They've kept their promise. They've just found someone to take my place while I was gone. "The real Zeller heiress is back. You're nothing but a kept woman, so know your place." "A replacement will always be a replacement. Have some dignity and leave." They shower me with affection and give her nothing but the cold shoulder, but I can still see the hesitation in their eyes. Then, on my wedding day, we get word that she's been in a car accident. William leaves me at the altar, and Gabriel gets up from the family table and walks out too. "I'm sorry, Noelle. I finally understand how I feel. She was never anyone's replacement." It doesn't matter to me. Being someone's unforgettable love or someone's kept woman was never what I wanted. I'm the future head of the Zeller family, and I have my own goals.

After sixty-six months of waiting,on the day of our Mating Ceremony, my fated mate, Alpha Asher, rejected me. He held his first love, Cora, in his arms, his gaze on me cold and cruel. "Cora is already carrying my pup," he said, his voice void of any warmth. "I am rejecting you. Once the pup is born and its place in the pack is secure, we can still be mates." He added, a cruel smirk on his face, "Besides, being my mate is the greatest honor an Omega like you could ever hope for." Everyone expected me to endure the humiliation, to wait quietly for Asher to come back and finally accept me. But that very night, I followed the Moon Goddess's guidance and left for good. Five years later, I returned to my old home. My mate Ronan called away on urgent business. So he had no choice but to arrange for a local Alpha to greet me. I never expected it would be him: my ex-mate, Alpha Asher. Exhausted from the long journey and weary from my pregnancy, I was met with mockery. With Cora on his arm, he sneered at my plain clothes, telling me I was nothing without him. "Seeing as you've hit rock bottom and look like some pathetic rogue, I suppose we can be generous enough to take you in. Our pup could use a healer." I just laughed coldly and refused. He has no idea — I’m now the Luna Queen to the Alpha King. His entire pack existed only at my mercy.

Liam Jordan and I had spent six months planning our wedding. Then, on the day of my bridal fitting, no one even bothered to tell me they were going without me. When I called, Sophie Lawson answered with a laugh. "Hey, Yara! I tried on your wedding dresses for you! This bridal boutique downtown is amazing. Every single dress looks incredible in photos." Liam's voice came from beside her, casual as ever. "They look good on your sister, so they'll probably look good on you too. No point making a separate trip." I was about to say something when my mother, Diane Lawson's voice, cut in. "Honey, what about this rhinestone one for your bridesmaid dress? You'll be the center of attention." Sophie happily agreed. Everyone on the other end sounded like they were having a wonderful time. Meanwhile, I was the bride, yet somehow I felt more like an outsider to my own wedding than anyone else. Then Sophie spoke again. "Liam, this one's a little tight around the waist. Come help me loosen it." He didn't refuse. He even laughed and teased her for being hopeless. Something inside me simply gave out. After I hung up, I went straight to the hotel and canceled the reception, asking for my deposit back. The woman at the front desk couldn't help asking, "Ma'am, you waited more than six months to get this venue. How can you just give it up now?" I quietly slipped the engagement ring off my finger. "Let someone else have the wedding," I said calmly. "They might need it more than I do."

Tomorrow was supposed to be my engagement party with my fiance, Jason Miller. To surprise him, I flew back a day earlier after spending three long years studying abroad in London. The moment my plane landed, I called him. But he just laughed and casually dropped a bombshell. He had lost a high-stakes poker game, and he had just wagered me off to his friend as a free maid for a month. Before I could even speak, my phone lit up with a notification. He had added me to his wealthy inner-circle group chat. The title was vicious. [Congrats to Marcus on his new ugly maid!] Jason dropped a photo of me, from before I left the country, into the chat. In the picture, my skin was broken out, my hair was a wild mess, and I had severe buckteeth that made me look completely awkward. The group chat exploded. "Holy crap, Jason! You're brutal! She looks frightening!" "A bet's a bet, Marcus! You gotta bring the monster to the yacht party tomorrow!" Someone immediately set up a poll, betting cash on whether I would actually have the nerve to show up in a swimsuit. Jason instantly dropped ten grand on the poll, betting I would hide in embarrassment. "Sorry to ruin your eyes, bro," he texted the group. "Just think of her as a free circus act." I stared at the screen, a cold smile touching my lips. He never bothered to call me while I was away. He had no idea I spent the last three years in Europe undergoing three hundred thousand dollars' worth of top-tier facial reconstruction and styling. He had no idea that a single unedited photo of my face was now pulling hundreds of thousands of followers online. They wanted a show? Tomorrow on that yacht, I would give them one.

As the heir to the North's most powerful pack, I must choose my mate from the three rival Alphas. My heart had already chosen. Alpha Ethan. He was my destiny. Our mate bond was a roaring fire, impossible to ignore. But just days before the Mating Ceremony, we were ambushed by rogues. Everything went black. When I woke up, a new wolf was howling in my soul. Nyx. She claimed to be from my past life. And she was screaming in my head, begging me not to choose Ethan. "He'll kill you! Him and that bitch Clara. They'll steal everything you have! Arthur is the one you have to choose!" Arthur? The cursed Alpha doomed to die before he turns twenty-five?

Five years after their breakup, Lauren Scott signed a master-servant contract with Yale Sutton, the ex-boyfriend who had been penniless when they were together. Yale would pay off her debts, and in return, Lauren had to fulfill his every demand. "Lauren, take off one piece of clothing, and I'll knock a million off your debt." Yale spoke slowly, his voice dripping with mockery. Around the private room, the men hooted and cheered while the women laughed and made teasing remarks. Lauren gritted her teeth. "Fine. Just don't go back on your word, Mr. Sutton." Without a moment's hesitation, she unbuttoned her blouse and let it fall to the floor, baring her porcelain-white skin and most of her full, rounded breasts. The room fell silent for a moment before whistles erupted from every direction.

Two days before my wedding, I was sorting through some old belongings when I suddenly remembered the time capsules Ethan Shaw and I buried ten years ago. His expression froze the moment he heard it. He tried to talk me out of going. “It’s been so long. Someone must’ve dug them up already.” I didn’t think much of it and went back to our old school on my own. But at the spot where we buried it, I unearthed five metal boxes of different sizes. Two of them were the ones Ethan and I buried a decade ago, now rusted all over. The other three didn’t belong there—one was just as rusty, while the remaining two looked brand-new. The old box had Rose Quinn’s name carved on it. On top were the words: “My secret crush was a war of myself. Ethan, I wish you happiness.” I remembered her then—an unremarkable girl who used to sit behind us. And the two new boxes were engraved with the names Ethan Shaw and Rose Quinn. The date marked on them was today. On Ethan’s box, it read: “My greatest regret in life is that I can’t give you a wedding.” On Rose’s box, it read: “My greatest regret in life is that I can’t openly wish you a happy wedding day.”