Hypocrisy Novels & Stories

I went abroad for three years to build a lab and save my husband's company from collapse. After endless struggles, I finally cracked the technical problems and developed the core technology. When I returned home with that breakthrough, I saw the airport video board plastered with the same impossible headline—my husband was getting married. I felt a hot, furious ache and took a taxi straight to the venue. … A woman who had cared for our household for years blocked me at the gate and sneered. "Who do you think you are, showing up at the Stone family's wedding? Get out of here, or I'll get security to throw you out." For a moment, I stood rooted, but then the bride appeared, walking out of the villa in a wedding gown. It was the woman Adrian Stone had once told me was dead—his first love, Evelyn Sutton. She wore my wedding ring on her finger and looked at me with pure contempt. "You want to make a scene at my wedding?" she said. "If you do, you're really asking for trouble. My husband, Adrian, won't hesitate to take care of you." I folded my arms and let out a cold laugh. "Adrian's getting married? Funny, I don't recall getting an invitation."

My boyfriend’s cousin went to live at his place after her divorce. Not only did she have a five-year-old, but she was even pregnant. She regarded my boyfriend as her support as if it were her right and blamed me for everything. She thought I had taken away her cousin. At a family gathering one day, her son splashed a drink at me and yelled, "You’re not allowed to steal my dad!"

My mother-in-law brings a woman from the countryside. She looks like she's up to no good when she asks my husband and I to care for the woman. My husband is a mama's boy through and through. His gaze darts around, and he doesn't object to his mother's words. Is it a trend nowadays for people to serve mistresses on a silver platter? It looks like I'll have to do my best in "caring" for them, then…

I receive news of my husband being hospitalized after accidentally eating mushrooms causing hallucinations. I ignore the pain in my sprained ankle and limp to the hospital. When I enter the hospital ward, my husband sidesteps me. Instead, he excitedly throws his arms around the young woman behind me. "You're finally here, honey! I missed you so much!" The young woman gives me a challenging look. Then, she wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him, her face red. They cling to each other and act all lovey-dovey like there's no one with them. After a while, my husband seems to realize I'm there. He scratches his head in embarrassment, looking like a young man who's just fallen in love. "Mom has done a good job in maintaining her appearance, honey. She doesn't look like she's 50 at all."

In the third year of Michelle Lowe’s relationship with Sigmund Lloyd, the man she had been financially supporting, her family went bankrupt. To save the company, her father tried to force her into an arranged marriage. That very night, she packed up everything she owned, ready to elope with Sigmund. However, when she arrived at the exclusive club where he worked, she saw him elegantly socializing with powerful guests. His refined manners and quiet confidence made him look nothing like the poor young man she’d been supporting for the past three years.

I exercised too hard during the day and, by midnight, a sharp pain tore through my stomach. When I checked my pants, there was blood. I called my friend immediately and had him rush me to the hospital. The moment I finished explaining my symptoms, the doctor did not even pause to think before saying, "This is a potential miscarriage. We need to start treatment right away." My eyes went wide. I opened my mouth to protest, but she steamrolled right over me. Her gaze dripped with contempt. "I see dozens of patients every day. I know exactly what you women are like. Probably had abortion after abortion in school with zero self-respect. Now that you're getting older, you want to trap some nice guy into cleaning up your mess." I had never met such an unprofessional doctor in my life. Anger flared in my chest, and I threatened to report her on the spot. She barely blinked. "Touched a nerve, huh? I'm just trying to help you out here. Doctors have it so hard these days. Tell someone the truth and complaints are all you get." The whispers started around me. People staring, judging, pointing. I had truly had enough. Had it occurred to literally anyone that I might just be a guy with long hair?

I had my meal and was about to leave my sister's restaurant, but the manager stopped me. "Sorry, sir, but you haven't paid your tab." I never saw this guy before. He probably had no idea who I was. Kindly, I explained, "Put it on your boss' tab. She knows what to do." The manager instead gave me a look of derision. "Sir, we're a 3-star Michelin restaurant. We do not put anyone's bill on another person's tab." He handed me an itemized bill. The guy had it ready and printed. I went through the list. The meal alone cost 75 grand. The 'dining utensil gleam maintenance fee' ran up to 45 hundred. There was also an exclusive air purifier fee, which would cost 75 hundred. And there was a 'VIP calm headspace service fee' that ran up to 15 grand. Those were the ones that stood out, but they were far from the last. I had no idea my sister was running an extortion gig. Mirthlessly, I laughed. "I'm your boss' brother. Tell her she's talking to me when she comes home." The manager did not let me go. "Just say you can't afford it. You're not the first one to try and claim you know Ms. Grayheim. I know leeches like you well enough." I texted my secretary. 'Tell my sister she either fires this guy, or I pull my funds out.'

On the day the gauze was removed from my eyes, I joked that I was blind. "Don't be afraid if you can't see. I'll take care of you my entire life." My husband and best friend took care of me while I was in the hospital. They sincerely made that promise to me. However, when we got home, all three of us were on the same bed. My best friend rode on top of my husband breathlessly. They were caught up in their intimacy as they thought I could not see. My best friend was worried I would suspect something and spoke up to eliminate any suspicion. "Uhh… Summer, I'm just giving your husband a massage." I was so disgusted that I wanted to throw up, but I held myself back. Once they were done, I was about to find an excuse to leave the room when my five-year-old suddenly ran in. "I miss you so much, Mom!" Hearing that warmed my heart, and I opened my arms to hug him, but he ran past me and lay down next to my best friend instead. The 'happy family of three' were all smiles and threw me looks of disgust. I could no longer tolerate this. When I called my lawyer, I told him to bring me the divorce papers. If they wanted to become a family so badly, I would make their wish come true. I just did not know if my best friend could afford to earn a decent enough income to take care of my useless husband and son.

I had been dating Andy Lawson for five years. He had gone bankrupt, and during the worst of it, we had to sleep in parks and scavenge leftovers for food. After a hundred days of that life, I was just going to the blackmarket to sell some blood for money when someone sent me a video. [Surprise.] It was a livestream site, set up for rich kids to prank the common folk—and a video of me was pinned to the top. My finger trembling, I tapped on it and saw myself hidden in a corner of a park, munching on leftovers to nourish my frail body. On the split video, Andy was reclining against the armchair of a five-star hotel and savoring his gourmet menu. "Oh, this is amazing! All Andy has to do is say that he's sick, and she's selling her blood for him!" "On the sixteenth prank, she fell into the ocean… And on the fifteenth, she was sent flying in a car crash! Why is she so hard to kill?" "Well, Andy already made it clear that if she survives until the end, he will marry her and swear off women!" "One month to go! Will she die from the pranks, or marry into the Lawson family with pomp and circumstance?" "I'm betting fifty mil that she dies tragically! Hahaha!"

My CEO wife, Cassandra Solis, has high hopes for me. In fact, she has drafted an elite training program for me. I have to work over 20 hours a day, finish every meal within 3 minutes, and spend no more than a minute in the restroom. "Honey, elites must achieve what normal people can't. Only when you become a true elite can I entrust the company to you." I can feel the major responsibility weighing down on my shoulders. Every day, I devote everything I have to work. Five years later, I've successfully taken the company public. I've also completed Cassandra's hardcore training program. But at the end-of-the-year gala, Cassandra hands over the position of the Executive Vice President—the same one that she's promised to me—to her newly-recruited assistant. Upon noticing my displeasure, Cassandra explains to me smilingly while holding a bouquet of flowers, "Oh, silly you! Having a completely useless boss is the final trial I've set up for you! Once you've completed this trial, I can finally hand the company to you!" But lines of text suddenly flash across my vision. "Oh, poor Harvey! He still has no idea that Cassandra has been training him just so he can earn more money in order to clear off Xavier's debt! Not only that, but she also steals the position Harvey has been longing for and gives it to Xavier! Cassandra really has crossed a line this time!" "You're being too dramatic. Cassandra is just paying Xavier back for his benevolence. She feels guilty for what she's done to Harvey, you know. Once she's done paying back her debt to Xavier, she'll pay attention to Harvey once again and live happily ever after with him." I'm stunned by what I see. Is this the actual purpose behind the elite training program? I'm about to pull out the terminal cancer diagnosis report, but I quickly stuff it back into my pocket. It's a shame that I'm about to die. I suppose that I can't live long enough to see that day.