Novel & Cerita Plot Twists Ideas

When my daughter, Jasmine Richmond, attends my boss' birthday banquet with me, she gets violated there. Meanwhile, I just stand at the doorway of the private room, completely unmoved by Jasmine's cries of help. Since then, Jasmine has become depressed. As my wife, Riley Stuart, watches Jasmine lose more weight overtime, she swears that she will seek justice for Jasmine no matter what. But on the day the court case is opened, I give false testimony for my boss and has personally overturned all the accusations. Jasmine breaks down on the spot. She then hurls the documents at me angrily. "You're no dad of mine! You're just a bastard! I will never forgive you for the rest of my life!" Riley rushes over and shoves me away. As she shields Jasmine from me, she screams at me in a voice that's trembling from rage. "Do you even have a conscience left? How dare you collude with outsiders and ruin our daughter!" After I walk out of the courthouse, Jasmine's maternal relatives have me all surrounded. With an icy expression, I goad them on the spot. "Go on, lay a finger on me. I'll make sure to have you locked behind bars in no time!"

I was seven moons pregnant when I dozed off after the Moon Blessing ceremony. I woke to a flat belly. My pup was gone. My mate smiled gently, saying I’d never been carrying. The Seers said I was there for a routine cleansing. Even my mother pleaded with me, blaming my desperation for a child for causing vivid hallucinations. But the kicks had been real. I’d seen the tiny, curled form in the scrying basin myself. Everyone united behind the same lie, until the moment I fell from a rooftop and died. I opened my eyes, back at the day of the Blessing. This time, I will not sleep. I will document everything: pictures, recordings, witnesses. I will find out who stole my pup.

To celebrate Halloween, our company booked an immersive “rural horror” escape room. My boss said whoever could make it to the end without screaming would get a ten-thousand-dollar reward. As a seasoned horror movie fan, I was instantly tempted. The core character in the escape room was a scarecrow wearing an oversized pumpkin head. I admired how well the props were made, but the chainsaw noise was too loud, so I slipped into a hidden compartment, put on my headphones, and scrolled through reels. The next day, I woke up to a strong metallic stench mixed with the sickly-sweet smell of rotting pumpkin. The police told me our boss had canceled the booking at the last minute, and the actor originally assigned to play the character had gotten food poisoning. That pumpkin-headed figure wasn’t one of their staff.

After his female assistant crashed her car into my sister, my CEO fiancé, the man who once adored me beyond reason, swore he would make her pay. However, instead of punishing her, he promoted her to my position at work. He claimed that the higher she climbed, the harder she would fall. He spent millions at an auction to buy her a bracelet and even bought her dog a luxury mansion as a kennel. Every time, he told me the same thing: it was all part of his revenge plan and that I needed to endure it a little longer. My sister suffered a brain hemorrhage caused by complications from the accident and urgently needed surgery. Desperate, I begged my fiancé to return the salary he had managed for me over the years. He agreed and told me to get his assistant's approval for the withdrawal. When I submitted the request, she rejected it for incomplete documentation. After I finally gathered everything she asked for, she smiled, said office hours were over, and told me to come back tomorrow. My sister died before tomorrow could come. Only then did my fiancé call to comfort me. “Tell Dolly to wait a few more days for her surgery. Everything I’m doing is to get revenge on Sylvia and avenge Dolly. During her celebration banquet the day after tomorrow, I’ll take back everything I gave her and ruin her completely. After that, we’ll get married. You and Dolly will finally be happy.” By then, I finally understood. His so-called revenge was nothing more than an excuse for the way he indulged and favored his assistant. When my sister died, whatever remained between us died with her.

I've failed to conceive despite being married for two years. Initially, I think it's because there's something wrong with me. I take various medications and undergo treatment. The night that I want to ask my husband, Sebastian Lockwood, to go for a check at the hospital, a voice appears in my mind. "He's not Sebastian! Sebastian's already been dead for three years!"

I catch the eye of a stranger on the bus. Then, I'm lured into his trap…

The financially disadvantaged student I was sponsoring secretly went behind my back and sold my small island, which was worth two billion dollars. I was furious and confronted her, but she publicly slandered me in front of the entire school. She exclaimed, "I saw you doing unspeakable things with eighteen men on that island! You're still young and you can't keep making mistakes like this. I sold the island for your own good!" I was so enraged that I kicked her to the ground and prepared to call the police, but my brother stopped me. He and my fiancé stood in front of the student, protecting her. They accused me of being violent and in need of medical treatment. Before I could resist, they joined forces and threw me into a psychiatric hospital, where I died that night from food poisoning. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day I discovered the island had been sold.

I sat at the table, watching the food grow cold, much like my heart. Today was my birthday. It was also Leslie Buck's birthday—Katherine White's childhood sweetheart. I unlocked my phone and opened Leslie's social media page. As expected, a new post awaited me. "Grateful to have you by my side for every birthday. Let's keep our promise to celebrate every one of them together in the future!" The photo showed two hands forming a heart in front of a cake. One of them was Katherine's. I could tell from the bracelet she wore. It was the one I had given her. I gave the post a like, then set my phone aside. Without hesitation, I dumped the dishes Katherine liked into the trash and went out to a restaurant to order the food I liked, celebrating my birthday alone. From now on, I would make sure to enjoy every birthday of mine.

I was suffering from period cramps, so I ordered some painkillers. I asked for a woman to deliver my painkillers to me, but a drunken man came over instead. This time, I did not call my brothers for help. I called the police instead. In the past, not only did my brothers send all of their bodyguards to me, but they also rushed back. In the process, they ended up missing the theater performance of our adopted sister, Gloria. Gloria was sad and grabbed a prop to stab herself. My brothers comforted me. “Don’t blame yourself for it. At the very least, you’re safe.” But, right after, they arranged my kidnapping and gave me over to a group of drunkards. “That was just a drunkard. You could have just chased him out. Did you have to call us? Look! Gloria’s dead now! You’re not getting out of this alive either!” When I opened my eyes again, I returned to the time when the drunkard was knocking on the door. This time, I did not call them, and my brothers got to watch Gloria’s theater performance and cheered her on. But once the performance ended, they regretted it.

I spent five years as Dominic Santoro’s wife in name only. Five years hidden behind closed doors, buried under his sheets, erased from his world. When he finally agreed to take me back to Chicago—to stand beside him, to be seen—I thought I had won. I bought a new dress. Soft. Elegant. Worthy of a Don’s woman. The night before we left, he looked at me through the mirror and said calmly, “Take the makeup off. Change into pants.” I asked why. He adjusted his cufflinks like I was nothing more than background noise. “Juliana Lancaster is back. Tonight is our engagement.” Russian Bratva. Lancaster blood. A marriage alliance. Seeing my silence, he laughed—careless, cruel. “What’s with that look? Didn’t we agree on this when we married? Brotherhood. Loyalty. No love.” Then he turned, eyes sharp and mocking. “Victoria Miller… you didn’t actually fall in love with me, did you?” I stood there, frozen. Because inside the inner pocket of his tailored suit— was my pregnancy report. And the Don of Chicago had no idea the woman he was about to sacrifice was carrying his heir.