Substitute Plot Twists Short Stories & Novels

I was Windsor’s most untouchable heiress. The chairman of the university board was my grandfather. The student council president was my fiancé. The basketball team captain and the top student in our major were my childhood friends. Everyone said that if I wanted something at Windsor, I could have it. After taking a year off from college because of illness, I returned to campus. The moment I stepped through the gates, lines of comments suddenly appeared in front of me. [The spoiled heiress is back! She still doesn't know that all three male leads have fallen for the new transfer student.] [Jessica may be poor, but she's stubborn and kind. Watching her refuse financial help and insist on working part-time is heartbreaking.] [Natalie bullies Jessica because of her family's wealth. In the end, the male leads will all hate her. Even her fiancé will break off their engagement in front of everyone.] [I love watching spoiled rich girls lose everything!] When the three young men who once had eyes only for me insulted me at the opening ceremony just to defend a poor student, I simply smiled. Then I decided to stay away from them from that day forward. After all, a true heiress never needs to lose her mind over a man just to prove her worth.

I was the treaty bride carefully chosen by Silvermoon pack and sent to Shadowridge pack. My presence there guaranteed ten years of peace between the two packs. All because I looked a little like the woman who had saved Theron, the Alpha of Shadowridge. For 1007 nights, Theron left bite marks all over my body, but the one mark reserved for a Luna never appeared. I begged him to let me go. He gripped my chin and laughed. "You're a stand-in. What makes you think you have the right to beg me?" After that, I was trapped in Shadowridge. Not his Luna, not his mate, just a shadow he could forget whenever he pleased. Three years later, the woman who had supposedly saved him returned from the dead: Celine. He announced to the pack that he would take her as his mate. Whatever hope I had left died. That same night, I found the man whose life I had once saved. "Help me fake my death. On the night of the eclipse, I want to die in front of Theron."

Felix Sterling had a thing for women who reminded him of his first love. I happened to look about eighty percent like the woman he had lost. Because of that, he spoiled me rotten and turned me into a spoiled, arrogant woman who got whatever she wanted. Whenever some foolish woman dared to provoke me, I would track down her home, even at three in the morning, and slap her dozens of times. Felix never said a harsh word to me. He simply cleaned up the messes I left behind. That was until a woman who looked even more like his first love appeared. Her name was Vivian Hart. The moment she saw me, she dropped to her knees. With tears in her eyes, she pleaded, “I heard you’re really good at hitting people. I’m afraid of pain. Please don’t hit me, okay?” Felix chuckled behind her and pulled her to her feet. Then he stood in front of me and told her, word for word, “Starting today, I’ll teach you how to get whatever you want. “You can keep tabs on people. You can hit other women.” He glanced casually at me and pointed in my direction. “Everything she used to do, you can do too. “You can completely overshadow her.” He stared into my eyes, as if trying to find some other emotion there. Instead, I suddenly laughed. What Felix Sterling didn’t know was that I had a thing for replacements too. He was the first replacement I had ever chosen. And just now, I had decided it was time to find the next one.

To repay Victor for saving my life, I gave up a brilliant career as one of America's finest neurosurgeons and willingly became his trophy wife. For seven years, Victor lavished money on me and treated me with bone-deep tenderness. Yet his obsessive rules suffocated me. Every other week, I had to subject my scalp to agonizing bleach treatments to keep my hair icy platinum. I had to bathe in a discontinued Venetian white iris perfume. And I had to wear a fake beauty mark at the corner of my right eye. I once mistook it all for the obsessive devotion of a Mafia Don. Then, on the eve of our wedding of the century, I found a wall covered with portraits of another woman. The measurements of my gown, the carat weight of my ring, even the beauty mark Victor had tattooed beside my eye, all came from a dead woman's final wishes. After seven years of consuming passion, I was never his salvation. I was a living specimen, crafted to harbor the ghost of a dead woman.