Invisible Twists

I had been married to Alexander for three years. Everyone feared his ruthlessness, but he had always been incredibly gentle with me. But ever since Elena took a bullet for him during a shootout six months ago, everything changed. He always said she got hurt saving him, so I had to be accommodating. At the family’s most prestigious gala, my husband—the Don, Alexander—arrived with his secretary, Elena, on his arm. Pinned to her chest was the ruby brooch that symbolized the position of the Donna of the family. "Elena took a bullet for me. She liked the brooch, so I let her borrow it for a while. Regardless, you are the only donna here. Try to show some class." I didn't argue with him. I just removed my wedding ring and pulled out the divorce papers: "Since she likes it so much, she can have it. Including this seat next to you. I'm giving that up, too." Alexander signed without hesitation, a cold smile on his face. "What kind of manipulative trick are you playing now? You're an orphan, separated from your family, you won't survive three days in Sicily. I'll wait for you to come back begging me." I took out an encrypted satellite phone I hadn't used in three years. Alexander didn't know that I was actually the youngest daughter of the oldest Mafia family in Europe. But my family and Alexander’s had always been enemies. To marry him, I had changed my name and even severed ties with my father and brothers. The call connected. I took a deep breath and whispered, "Papa, I regret it. Send someone to pick me up in two weeks."

During Christmas dinner, my mother-in-law hinted for the umpteenth time that she wanted a grandchild. However, my husband, Zachary Cole, who had insisted on staying child-free in the past decade, only smiled and filled her plate. After dinner, he slipped onto the balcony. "There, there. Daddy will come see you on New Year's Day," he whispered. I stood in the corner of the living room with a glass of water in my hand, feeling cold as the words sank in. I stepped forward and forced a playful tone. "I just heard you say 'Daddy.' Got a secret kid stashed somewhere?" He rubbed his nose, his voice stiff. "You must've misheard. That's… just a friend's kid." My heart sank. I'd been married to him for a decade, so I knew exactly what he looked like when he was lying.

On Frankie Sutton's birthday banquet in the tenth year of us being together, all of our family, friends, and relatives were confident that I'd propose to him again. After all, I gave up on my family's assets that are worth tens of millions of dollars back in Glufford just so I can travel all the way to Arkvine with Frankie in order to start a pig-rearing business. I've been clinging to him for ten long years so that I can marry him. But even when the clock hits 5:00 am, I'm still nowhere to be seen in my wedding gown. All Frankie receives is a text from me, stating that I'm breaking up with him. In ten years, I've reared countless batches of piglets and watched them grow into full-fledged pigs. Alas, I can never warm Frankie's heart up with my love. Now, I choose to abandon him and the piglets I'm forced to rear.

Lennon Shepard's first love, Jessie Sterling, has caused a medical malpractice incident due to an operational mishap. That night, Lennon cuts off the oxygen for Mabel Judson's mother to coerce her into taking the blame. At the moment, he's sitting across from Mabel with a confession placed between them. Once she signs it, she will never be able to pick up a scalpel in this country for the rest of her life.

I was a sketch artist acting for the police. On a secret mission, I was discovered by a murderer. My eyes were gouged out, and my body was dismembered, unceremoniously dumped in a garbage bin. On the brink of death, I called my boyfriend, a criminal investigator. However, he hung up on me because he was busy accompanying his first love to a prenatal checkup. A few days later, he received a painting that was a vital clue to finding the murderer, but he thought I was playing tricks on him. In his anger, he tore that portrait to shreds. After he found out the truth, he spent the whole night searching through the garbage to piece it back together.

After failing the mission, the System gave me one final chance, and to succeed, I had to give birth to a child. The System promised that if the baby were born safely, it would reveal the truth to my target and give me one last glimmer of hope. However, six months into my pregnancy, just when things seemed stable, I was dragged onto an operating table in the middle of the night by my husband and family. My husband stopped the anesthesiologist from giving me any pain relief. “Let her feel the pain,” he said coldly. “We need to keep the kidneys as fresh as possible.” My parents instructed the doctor to draw my blood. “She’s the same blood type as our precious girl. Let’s take some for backup.” Even my childhood friend, the boy who had always been by my side, was the one to slice open my abdomen.  They wanted my kidneys to save my sister, who was dying from kidney failure. No one believed I was pregnant. No matter how much I begged, they went ahead with the operation, tearing me open. The baby couldn’t survive, and I died on that operating table. However, as my soul began to fade away, something strange happened. Those who had murdered me—my husband, my parents, my so-called friend—they all lost their minds.

I was madly in love with James Gates for 10 years. So mad that everyone in the Imperium said that I was addicted to him. How far did it go? I wouldn't allow any woman to get close to him. I wanted to eliminate every woman around him. In the end, James sent me to rehab. While others quit smoking, drinking, or gaming, I was quitting James. But later, I truly moved on from him. Yet, he regretted it and, in the pouring rain, begged me to love him again.

After five years of marriage, Zac Saunders felt the need to protect his son with his mistress. Not only did he pressure me into terminating the pregnancy, but he also conspired with the board of directors to remove me from my position as vice president. He held Jemma Jacobs close, wearing a wicked grin."Samantha Lewis," he sneered, "since you won't obey...""...Jemma take your place from now on," he continued.I pushed his hand away, pulling Jemma in front of me. Ignoring her struggles, I firmly grabbed her hair and forced her to tilt her head back."Come on," I urged, "tell him, who do you belong to?"

On the night before Match Day, it's 2:17 am when I find myself staring at the screenshot on my phone. For a long while, my heart refuses to calm down at all. Ethan Blake: "Let's have a bet, guys. If Leah doesn't get a spot at Redwood General Hospital tomorrow, this will mark the end of our relationship. The starting bet is two thousand dollars. Is anyone following up on this bet?" Already, more than a dozen people have responded to the message with various emojis. Someone even comments, "Count me in!" I feel my nails digging into my palms. "The end of our relationship", he says. To think that Ethan actually used this phrase. We've been dating for four years. This is the very same man who once told me that he wanted to marry me. Is it this easy for him to end a relationship? I take a deep breath and force myself to calm down. There are still other medical interns in the staff room with me. I mustn't lose my composure around them. I know that Ethan is waiting for me to react how I did in the previous times. I'd either spam his phone with missed calls, beg him to delete the message while crying, or apologize to him in an extremely humble manner. But now… Now, I'm really done with this relationship.

I'm on track to be a top student, but I end up taking the SAT twice. The first time, I score high enough to get into Westbridge University. The second time, my score qualifies me for Northfield University. Each time, I score over 1500. Yet when the admissions teams see my name, not a single school admits me. At first, I think it must be some kind of background check, certain they've found something in my record. But my parents are honest, hardworking people. They've never broken the law. They wouldn't even harm a fly. So I try a third time. My SAT score is 1580, and my GPA is still perfect. This time, I apply to Crestwood University, thinking I finally have it in the bag. The Crestwood University admissions officer arrives full of cheer, but the moment he sees my name, he freezes, immediately realizing there is no way I will be accepted. I rack my brain, trying to figure out what is wrong with my name. Why does seeing it make every school hesitate, even though my scores are perfect?