Realism Novels & Stories

In the ninth year after I married Charlie Lockwood, he brings his first love, Cecilia Moore, back home. She is gentle, beautiful, and understanding. Everyone treasures her like she is some precious gem. Right under my nose, Charlie begins to develop feelings for her. The household gradually comes under her control. Even my two children, whom I cherish dearly, would rather have Cecilia as their mother. Just when I am completely disheartened, I discover my true identity. With how things are in the Lockwood household now, there is no longer anything here that is worth staying back for. Without hesitation, I file for divorce and return home to take over my family business.

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!"

My mother-in-law, Martha Miller, dies after being struck by my husband's assistant, Layla Atkinson's car after the latter runs the red light. But the court verdict shows that Martha is the one scamming Layla. I've filed appeals three times, yet I've lost all three. Just as I'm about to file the fourth appeal, I find out that someone has stolen Martha's corpse. I'm about to call the police when my attorney husband, Michael Sawyer, seeks me out. He even gives me three thousand dollars on the spot. "You should know that I've never lost a case, Bianca. No matter how much evidence you have, you can forget about winning your mother's case. "If I claim that your mother is scamming Layla, then she will forever be a scammer. The fact that you keep taking her case to court just means that you want more compensation. Anyway, I've already gotten someone to sell your mother's body to the black market. It's worth three thousand dollars in total, so I suppose that's the value of her life. "Stop bothering Layla like a pest you are. She's kind enough to not make you pay for the damages her car has sustained, after all." No wonder Michael keeps defending Layla. It turns out that he thinks my mom is the one who has died in the accident this whole time. I just push the money back to him. "You should keep the money. I don't have the right to take it."

When Dexter Welch, a security guard who works in the residential area, sees me driving my pink Toyota Corolla everywhere, he's very certain that I'm a sugar baby who's being backed by her own sugar daddy. On the first day, I see one word getting carved into the car hood. It says "bitch". I merely give the hood a wipedown without uttering a word. Later on, I swap out the current SD card of my dashcam to an SD card that has a 512 GB memory. On the second day, my car windows get smashed in. When I go over to the property management office to check the security footage, the front desk agent tells me that the security camera overseeing my car "happens" to be broken. Dexter leans against the desk with a grin on his face. "If that car of yours is ruined, then so be it. Tell your sugar daddy to buy you another one." I crouch down and take a picture of the damage. Then, I save it into a folder called "evidence" in my phone. On the third day, two of my tires have gone flat. When I bend down to pick up a spare tire, Dexter hugs me from behind all of a sudden. He murmurs into my ear, "What's so good about sleeping with an old codger? Why don't you date me instead? I'm young and strong—" That's when I grab a wrench and smash it right into his arm. As Dexter nurses his injured arm, he glares at me. "How dare you lay a finger on me! Go ahead and lodge a report, then! My uncle's the property manager here! What can you do about me, hmm?" I silently note down Dexter's work ID without saying anything. On the fourth day, I drive another pink car back to the apartment. As soon as Dexter notices the flash of pink in its usual parking slot, he smiles as he exits the guardhouse. Then, he pulls out a key from his pocket and scratches my car with all his strength. An older gentleman who happens to be walking his dog nearby freezes in his tracks. He sounds so startled that his voice actually cracks. "Have you gone nuts? Do you know the model of the car you've just scratched? That's a top-tier Rolls-Royce!"

Ethan hid his powerful family background to support his wife Victoria, only to watch success turn her cruel and arrogant. On her IPO day, her favorite company influencer beats a poor-looking old man nearly to death, believing he is Ethan's father. But the victim is actually Victoria's own father, and every insult, cover-up, and betrayal pushes Ethan to expose the truth and destroy the life she built on his love.

I head over to my boyfriend, Skylar Reynold's house during the holidays to pay his family a visit. Skylar's mother, Helen Benett, smiles and says to me in front of everyone, "According to our rules, a future daughter-in-law must give cash gifts to all the children and elderly people in the family in her first year here. You must give every person at least 200 dollars to show how generous you are." I'm stunned, to say the least. Skylar nudges me before murmuring, "It's just a few thousand dollars, isn't it? Doesn't the holiday bonus that you've received before the holidays cover everything?" I look at the living room, where 15 children and 8 elderly people are present. That makes it 4,600 dollars—the same figure that I've received after the taxes are deducted from the bonus. I let out a soft chuckle at that moment. Then, I turn to look at Helen. "According to your rules, Mrs. Reynold, I shall be the one giving away the cash gifts. But according to my family's rules, the groom's family has to give the bride's family cash gifts as well. The cash gifts must be doubled so that our marriage will be graced by luck. "It'll be 9,200 dollars altogether. Would you like to pay me in cash, or are you going to transfer it into my account?"

"What even are the specs on this thing?" My coworker Zack slid it back across the desk, frowning hard. I was still fixing a design draft and barely looked up. "Latest model. Core Ultra 9, RTX 5090, 128 gigs of RAM. Why?" "No shot." Zack shook his head. "I opened Photoshop and it froze for, like, three minutes straight. My busted three-year-old laptop runs better than this. And look." He tapped the bottom panel. "There are screwdriver marks back here. Looks like somebody opened it up and slapped it back together." My chest tightened. I grabbed the laptop and flipped it over. Two fresh scratches sat near the vent. The edges looked like they'd been pried up. I went still. Three months ago, when my cousin borrowed it, the laptop had been perfectly fine.

Someone suddenly tags me in a parents' group chat. "Hey Madison, I notice that the lunch boxes you've prepared for your daughter have a nice variety and rich in nutrients. Why don't you prepare the same thing for my son starting from tomorrow onward? "I'm not going to leech off you. In fact, I'll pay you ten dollars per day. When it stacks up, you'll earn quite a lot per month." As I stare at the messages on the screen, I find the situation rather ridiculous. My daughter, Sophie Reed, is extremely picky, not to mention she has food allergies. All of the ingredients of her meals are flown in from their places of origin. That means one meal's net price is more than 500 dollars. Yet now, someone intends to use ten dollars just for me to replicate the same meal for them? I reply right away in the group chat, "No way." Unexpectedly, the next day, Sophie is in tears when she returns from the kindergarten. She tells me that her lunch box has gotten snatched by a fellow classmate. On top of that, the teacher scolds her for being selfish as well. Fine. Since those shameless people intend to take advantage of me, don't blame me for being ruthless at all.

My parents were renowned educators, celebrated as top-tier teachers who mentored countless high achievers. Yet, I was the black sheep of the family, consistently bringing home failing grades. After yet another gentle reminder from my homeroom teacher, my mom erupted in frustration. "How could I have given birth to such a foolish child? You only exist to torture me!" She disappeared for three days. When she returned, she brought a girl with her. "From today on, Cora is my real daughter. You are forbidden to call us Mom or Dad ever again. Get out. Only when you can pass your exams will you be worthy of being my daughter!" Our next encounter was at the hospital, during the school staff's annual physical check. The dean spotted me, speaking. "Renee, isn't this your daughter? Sherry works here now! That means Cora's illness can be treated. Ask her to introduce you to the new director!" My mother's gaze landed on my white coat and shifted from shock to irritation. "She changed jobs and didn't even bother to tell me?" I discreetly covered the badge pinned to my chest, trying to conceal my status. I was now Evie Coffey, the director of Obstetrics and Gynecology.

While we're having our dinner on Christmas Eve, my mom suddenly asks me loudly, "Do you have your chastity?" I look confused. "What?" My mom just smiles very smugly. "I knew you were the adventurous type! You must have lost it because of someone else!" After that, she shoots my husband, Louis Hartson, a knowing look. "You don't know about this yet, right? Before Yvonne married you, she was an absolute player in the dating pool. Her father and I couldn't keep her under control at all!" I widen my eyes in shock. "What are you talking about?" My mom is even happier when she sees how angry I am. "Oh? You have the guts to do it, yet you're too cowardly to admit to it?" I can only clench my fists tightly under the table after hearing my mom's slanderous accusations. Since she likes spreading baseless rumors about me this much, I'm not going to keep her secret for her anymore.