Emotional Deep Drawings Novels & Stories

The fake daughter only sneezed. My three brothers reacted as if she were on her deathbed, crowding around her anxiously and refusing to let her out of their sight. So when she pointed her finger at me again, insisting I had shoved her into the pool, they accepted her story without a second thought. They hauled me to a deserted walk-in freezer, sealed the door behind me at -58°F, and made sure the only escape was out of reach. I screamed for my oldest brother, the CEO, to let me out. He called me a cruel attention seeker. I begged my second brother, the doctor. He told me I finally got what I deserved. I begged my third brother, the big-shot attorney. He just sneered. "You've always been jealous of Chloe. Now you pushed her into the pool when you knew she was fragile? You really are rotten. Someone like you needs to stay in there and cool off." Then, they bundled Chloe into their arms and rushed her to the hospital over a sneeze. Bit by bit, warmth seeped from my body, until it seemed like ice was flowing through my veins instead of blood. After thirty-six hours, I slipped away, lost to the cold. Three days later, Chloe returned from the hospital, and only then did my brothers remember I existed. But by then, the freezer had already claimed me.

On my 18th birthday, my triplet brothers adopted a fifteen-year-old orphan girl. To make their newly adopted sister happy, Matthew gave her my coming-of-age gift, Daniel sent away the dog that had grown up with me because she was allergic, and William coldly told me to get out of the house and stop making their little sister upset. I didn't say another word. I just packed my bags and left. They all thought I was just throwing a tantrum and would be back in a few days. My three brothers canceled their busy work schedules to take the orphan girl abroad to relax her nerves. They went to see the Northern Lights in Alaska – the place I had always dreamed of visiting. Many days later, when they returned from their vacation, they suddenly learned that I had volunteered for a twenty-year medical research mission in a remote frontier. I would never be coming home again. That night, they fell apart.

Fresh out of college, Clara Stewart asked me to take on a $500,000 mortgage for her. When I refused, she turned around and bought an $800,000 villa in full, for another guy. Holding up the property deed, she told me: "Jayden, the truth is, I'm actually rich. I've been pretending to be poor to test you. Unfortunately, you failed. I'm disappointed in you. Let's break up." I simply smiled and walked away without a second thought. The irony? I'm the son of the richest man in the country. I was pretending to be broke, too. Fast forward four years, we met again at the National Wealth Summit. Clara had just barely made it into the top 50 on the list, clinging to the arm of Henry Brown as they entered. She spotted me in simple clothes with no visible brand, holding a child in one arm and the keys to a Porsche Cayenne in the other. Thinking I was someone's driver, she sneered: "Jayden, you really went all out just to see me again? Let's be real, you're just a driver now, and I'm on the wealth list. We live in completely different worlds. Don't waste your time fantasizing." I did not bother replying. Honestly, I was only there because my billionaire dad insisted. I had finally cleared a day to spend with my son and now I had to waste it on that.

When I was seven years old, my father began subjecting me to extremely strict parenting. Not only did he withhold any support for my food, clothing, housing, or daily necessities, but he even charged me for drinking water in our own home. As a child, I endured relentless suffering and bullying. When I was critically injured by a vehicle that broke the law, I was severely injured, and my father refused to save me. Only after my death did I learn the truth that he already had a son somewhere out there. Everything he did to me was meant to drive me to my death. After rebirth, I no longer adhered to rules nor endured silently. Exploiting the fact that I was still a minor, I stabbed his secretary, bullied my classmates at school, and even set a fire on campus to force my father to give up on his brutal methods. When I grew up, I took everything he owned and sent him to prison. Only then was my revenge completed.

The first time I meet Solana Charvet's childhood friend, Tyson Hatch, he claims that he's the best fraud buster ever. At the dining table, he keeps lecturing me. "Men shouldn't overdress, you know. If not for the fact that Solana actually told me that you're her boyfriend, I'd definitely group you up with the gigolos together." Solana keeps agreeing with everything Tyson says. "You're far too flashy when it comes to your fashion sense. Just listen to Tyson and change your habits, yeah?" I can't be bothered to listen to a word Tyson says, so I come up with an excuse to use the toilet. But on the way back, I hear Tyson giving Solana his verdict as a fraud buster. "Solana, Charles' posture and the way he speaks are all clear indicators that he's a fake heir who has undergone training. He intends to get close to you for your money, you know! "That watch he's wearing? And the sports car that's worth over a million dollars? How is it possible for a doctor like him to afford all these things?" Fury burns in my gut. I can no longer tolerate Tyson's nonsense, so I dial my mom's number right away. Right, have I mentioned that my mom's the richest woman in the country? "Mom, give me five million dollars right now. I want to buy an agency that specializes in fraud busting and teach a certain someone a lesson!"

Every time my assistant booked a private room for me, he brought his girlfriend along. I let it slide. The room was on his way home anyway. Then today I pushed the door open and found a sticky note slapped on the head chair: "Freeloaders not allowed." I peeled it off and turned to him. "What's this about?" His girlfriend was already sitting in the head seat, glaring at me. "Can't you read?" she snapped. "Mooching off my boyfriend every damn day. Have you no shame?" "If you can't afford Michelin, don't show up. I can't stand cheap old hags like you. Honestly, if I lived your life, I'd kill myself." I just stared at her, baffled. Justin rushed over and lowered his voice. "Boss, I'm so sorry. She thinks I'm paying for this dinner." "She's a bit of a princess. Doesn't like sitting with people who can't keep up. Tell you what. Let us eat first, and you can order after we leave." Then he took my black card and handed it to the server. I stood there for a second. Then I picked up my phone and called the restaurant manager. "Send security to the private room. Someone stole my card. Call the police."

The night before the company went public, my wife told me she had a surprise for me and reminded me to dress up for the occasion. I thought she was planning to reveal our secret relationship, and I was so excited that I couldn’t sleep all night. However, the next day, in front of everyone, she announced that I was a creepy obsessive admirer. On top of that, she revoked my promotion and gave my position to her first love who had just returned to the country. Everyone was waiting to see me humiliated. I froze for a moment but quickly composed myself, walking up to her first love with a faint smile. Then, I took off the badge on my chest and placed it on him. “As the new director, you should celebrate, shouldn't you? How about a wedding? I’ll officiate for you two.” Glaring at me coldly, my wife told me to get lost and stop embarrassing myself. What they didn’t know was that I was the key connection holding the entire company together. If I left, none of the investors would back them anymore.

My girlfriend's so-called guy best friend found out I had epilepsy. He deliberately spiked my drink with stimulants. The moment I drank it, my nervous system was overstimulated. My heart rate surged. My chest tightened. Then the familiar warning signs hit–blurred vision, fragmented awareness, the onset of a seizure. The next second, I lost control of my body and collapsed onto the floor. My muscles convulsed violently. My jaw locked tight. My breathing turned uneven. I struggled to pull out the emergency medication I always carried with me, trying to stop the seizure from worsening. However, just as I was about to take it, I realized the hot water in my bottle had been replaced with highly concentrated coffee. The extra caffeine intensified the neurological stimulation. My convulsions worsened. My thoughts became more chaotic. My fingers stiffened to the point where I could barely move. Aaron Stone looked down at me on the floor and laughed. "Not bad. You're pretty convincing. "I've seen plenty of seizure patients before. Never seen anyone act this well." Gasping for air, I forced myself onto my knees in front of Mia, my jaw tightening from the spasms. "Mia... call an ambulance... I'm having a seizure..." Mia frowned at my obvious condition, but there was only impatience on her face. "Enough already. "If you keep acting like this, it's honestly too much. Since when can people having seizures still talk? "Aaron's a doctor. With him here, what could possibly happen to you?" I stopped trying to explain. Because I was already entering the next stage of neurological collapse. Even speaking had become difficult. Using the last of my strength, I pulled out my phone and sent an emergency distress message.

On New Year's Eve, my girlfriend of three years, Gina Jarrey, invited me to her place for dinner with her family. Before I could even take a bite, she drugged me and left me half-conscious. She mumbled, "If we don't pay them back, they're going to cut off my brother's hand. I had no other choice but to hand you over. Don't blame me for this. You're just unlucky for having a face identical to the man Ms. Carmelia Sanders is obsessed with. Once my brother's gambling debts are cleared, you might even end up living the high life. It's a win-win!" My mind drifted in and out as her entire family handed me over and sent me to a mansion that looked eerily familiar. First of all, unless I was mistaken, this place belonged to my aunt. Second, she had an extreme brother complex and had never liked any man other than Dad. And finally, years ago, a distant relative of mine got sent off to work in the mines in Frongo just for rolling his eyes at Dad. So really, who was the unlucky one getting delivered to my aunt's doorstep? Oh my, what a tough mystery to solve.

My grandfather was a thief. He stole my grandmother’s name and her identity. He used them to escape a poor, forgotten corner of the rural West, then ran off with another woman. He became a law professor, standing at podiums and lecturing about justice. She became a famous painter, giving interviews about integrity. My grandmother spent her whole life trapped in that same dying farmland. Everyone called her an old maid. She never stopped waiting for him. Not even on her deathbed. Fifty years later, I clawed my way out of that godforsaken place on the strength of two generations, my grandmother and my mother. I made partner at a top law firm. It was graduation season. I sat in the lead interviewer’s chair. Across from me sat a girl. Polished. Confident. The most outstanding graduate from the best law school in the state. I opened her résumé and flipped through it page by page. Then I stopped at the family information section. I stared at that name for a very long time. I looked up at her and said quietly, “You didn’t get the job.”