Face Smacking Novels & Stories

(My fiancé cheated on me, so I made a plan to get back at him by cheating with his father) “Who do you belong to, baby girl? Me or Finn?” He buried his face between her legs. “You! I… belong to you… Daddy!” Maisie cried out ecstatically. “Ugh… so good.” He grunted. “You look so… good when… I touch you, Pet!” Becoming the submissive pet of her father-in-law was her twisted plan to get revenge on her fiancé, Finn, for cheating on her. She had vowed, "I'll fuck his father as much as I want for what he did to me. Then, I'll marry Finn, make him watch me fuck his father, and divorce him." It was a clear plan, one meant to mess with both Finn and his father. But she had no idea that this would spark an unending obsession from Rafael Caruso—her father-in-law, a secret mafia don, a man nobody dared to cross. "I was never a part of your silly games, baby girl," Rafael growled, his voice dripping with authority. "I wanted you even before Finn. You are my submissive pet. You signed the damn contract, and you will do as I fucking say." He gripped her hand, pinning her to the wall. "I will keep you as long as I want, for as the contract stands. You belong to me! There's no escape!”

I was severely allergic to shrimp. Even touching the broth could make it hard for me to breathe. They used to treat me like a fragile little princess no one could touch. So there was never seafood at home, and even relatives were reminded before each family gathering. Then my little sister was born, and everything changed. Shrimp became her favorite food. She kept asking Mom to make it for her. That was the first time Mom snapped at me. "Can't you just stay away from it? Do you really have to make your sister unhappy?" Dad only shut the kitchen door and handed me a mask. But on the day of Dad's promotion dinner, I accidentally ate shrimp hidden inside a puff pastry. My throat tightened. I clutched my neck and ran to Mom for help, my face turning purple. But Mom flung my hand away, her voice cold as ice. "Today is an important day for your father. What stunt are you trying to pull now? "Do you think everyone has to revolve around you? Go back to your room!" She shoved me into my bedroom, slammed the door, and locked it. I did not even have the strength to call for help. All I could hear was the sound of people outside clinking glasses and offering congratulations, while my fingernails scraped bloody marks into the door.

Everyone says I have the face of an angel. However, I choose to take a knife and slash my own beautiful face. When my twin sister sees the drastic change in my appearance, she loses it and screams at me, wanting to know why I ruined my face. In my past life, she couldn't stop stealing food deliveries. When our next-door neighbor caught her, she shoved the pregnant woman so hard that she miscarried. The woman was seven months along, and both she and her baby died. But my sister just shrugged it off, bragging that she was some popular influencer, and two pathetic lives didn't matter. She even slapped down a 50-dollar bill like it was nothing, just to humiliate them. "Still trying to scam my money? For all we know, that woman's baby was already dead inside her. Your family must've done pretty awful things to deserve losing two lives like that!" When the dead woman's family showed up at our door with kitchen knives, ready for revenge, my sister chickened out and hid. Before that, she tricked me into coming home instead. The second I walked up to our front door, the grief-stricken husband slashed at my neck, severing the artery. I died right there on the spot. After I died, everyone spat on my memory. They all said I got what I deserved, and my parents covered up what my sister really did. She even had the nerve to come forward and apologize for me, cashing in on my death while hooking up with my boyfriend. The two of them became this perfect couple online and made tons of money. This time around, I decide to destroy my face. I want to see how she will steal my identity and pin her crimes on me now!

I spent six months and a quarter million dollars to secure a week in Sicily. But when my husband’s childhood obsession, Chiara, cried nostalgia into his ear, Dante didn’t hesitate. He removed my name from the armored motorcade roster and replaced it with hers. He told me to take a commercial flight alone through rival family territory—a route where three associates had “disappeared” last month. The entire famiglia supported Dante’s decision without a single thought for my safety. So I changed my itinerary. I boarded a plane to Monaco instead of Palermo. I spent three months at the roulette tables, ignoring their frantic calls. That was when the famiglia started to bleed…

Drew Anderson's beloved stepsister, Lisa Anderson, severely injured a pack member with wolfsbane. Drew wanted me to take the fall. He said that as long as I confessed, he would formally make me his Luna. Drew placed a forged confession in front of me. "Freya, you're the only one who can help me. I swear I'll protect you forever." After he finished speaking, I saw Lisa hiding behind him with a victorious smile on her face. I looked at Drew's pleading expression and silently picked up the feather quill. Just as the tip was about to touch the parchment paper, my phone lit up with two new messages. One was from Drew. [Don't worry. I've already spoken to the Council of Elders. You'll only be locked up for a few days.] The other was from his sworn nemesis, Liam Kramer. A video clip was attached. [The real evidence is in my hands. Interested in making a different choice?] I deleted Drew's message and replied to Liam. [What is the choice?]

On Valentine's Day, my boyfriend invited me onto a cruise ship heading for the open sea. “Quinn, just endure it. The Godfather loves blonde, blue-eyed beauties like you. “Once you please him, all my gambling debts will be wiped clean!" At the auction, I was locked inside a golden cage. The starting bid was $3 million. Just as despair drove me to bite my tongue, the bulletproof glass of the most mysterious private box on the second floor exploded outward. The mafia godfather stepped through the shattered glass. Shards crunched beneath his feet, and smoke curled from the muzzle of his gun. He looked exactly like my ex-boyfriend from five years ago. Back then, he was a bodyguard I had once slapped in public and kicked to the curb like an abandoned dog. His eyes were bloodshot as he grabbed my chin, smiling with an icy menace. "Sophia, you're not getting away this time."

Ten days before the wedding, my fiancée spent over a hundred million to buy Marcus Collins a luxury yacht. So, I silently threw away the matching rings I had once planned to give her. Seven days before the wedding, she spent 50 million dollars to celebrate Marcus' birthday. Thus, I set fire to the photo album that held every memory of our past. Three days before the wedding, she wore the ring I had used to propose, and she kissed him deeply by the sea. Today, I finally chose to step aside. I notified our families and friends that the wedding was canceled, and I personally returned the engagement tokens to the Yardley family. Lowering my head, I said softly, "Mr. and Mrs. Yardley…I've always known I'm not worthy of Claire. I hope you can understand."

I've decided to hire Queenie Sullivan, an impoverished student with excellent grades, as my tutor in my studies. However, she asked me whether or not she could bring another student named Timothy Dunn with her to the tutor session. After I turned her request down politely, Timothy left while looking crestfallen. But he got into an accident immediately afterward. Queenie continued to tutor me. Gradually, we started dating, and we got married later on. Life was amazing after our marriage… or so it seemed. Unfortunately, I was diagnosed with stomach cancer. On the night when my cancer tormented me to no end, Queenie locked me up at home and watched as I painted the floor with the blood I hacked out. "You owe Timothy this much, Zachary. It's your turn to have a taste of despair." Only then did realization dawn on me. It turned out that Queenie had been hating me all these years. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Queenie has asked me if she can bring Timothy along with her to the tutor session.

The ER had taken in over a dozen patients on New Year's Eve. Yet, my widowed sister-in-law had called my husband into the on-call room to breastfeed him. When I caught them in the act, Diana hurriedly straightened her rumpled top, her face flushed with embarrassment. "Amber, please don't get the wrong idea. I was treating Elliot! He thinks I'm his late mother. He comes to me to relive his childhood every night. I've gotten used to it." Elliot Cladwell showed no trace of guilt as he remarked, "Diana has been doing everything she can to help me with my adult attachment disorder. As a doctor, you of all people should understand." I smiled and quietly stepped aside, giving them space. What I didn't say was that I had just activated the system's wish-granting function. Since Diana wanted so badly to be his dead mother, I might as well help her fulfill that wish.

Late that night, I was scrolling through social media when my finger slipped, and I liked a rant that said, "No women would like to date Aries men." A few minutes later, Rachel Lewis, my ex-boyfriend's current girlfriend, flooded my private messages. [Stop trying to get Marcus's attention with these pathetic little tricks.] [You already broke up.] [A decent ex stays dead.] [You're damaging Marcus's reputation.] [I'll give you one chance to delete it.] [Otherwise, you'll face the consequences.] I laughed. I had broken up with Marcus Gibson, my Aries ex-boyfriend, three years ago. [I dumped that piece of trash out three years ago. I don't care if you picked him up and started treating him like a treasure, but stop acting like someone's trying to steal him from you every day.] That pushed Rachel completely over the edge. She sent me an Excel spreadsheet right away. [Fine. Since you're so over him, pay back every cent Marcus spent on you while you were dating. Otherwise, that proves you still want him.] I looked at the bill. Eighty-seven cups of coffee, eighteen movie tickets, that sad bouquet of roses he bought me for Valentine's Day, and even the chamomile tea he bought me when I was having my period... [The total is 4,300 dollars. If you don't transfer the money within three days, I'll make sure the whole internet knows who you are.] I stared at it, stunned. Then, I ignored the madwoman. The next day, my social media exploded.