True Grit Novel Novels & Stories

On the day we were supposed to get engaged, my fiance, Christopher Vittorino, slid the ring—that was supposed to be mine—onto Lina Sorenzo, my stepsister's finger, right in front of the entire family. Christopher's uncle, Don Mark Vittorino, was the one who had specifically ordered his subordinates to deliver the ring that symbolizes the wearer's status as the future Donna of the Vittorino family to Christopher himself. I could only stare at Christopher's deep blue eyes in disbelief. Just as I was about to question him, he just gazed at me with a stony expression. Even his tone was cold and rigid. "The Don intends to send me to Maravena for the next five years to develop my own business there. Once I return, I'll take over the family business. "You don't have any skills at all, Isla. If you stay with me, you'll just be a hindrance to me and cause me unwanted trouble. "Lina, on the other hand, is fluent in Maravenese. Not to mention, she knows how to expand the family business overseas. She will serve as a brilliant assistant for me." After that, Christopher took Lina's hand and left the venue with her, not caring about the fact that the leaders of the other branch families as well as the elders kept murmuring among themselves. Because of that, I ended up becoming the laughingstock of the entire family. Five years later, Christopher and Lina return to the country. When he spots me showing up at a family gathering held by Mark with a ruby ring that signifies my status as the Donna on my finger, his expression changes instantly. "I can't believe you learned to steal, Isla!" I just ignore Christopher's accusations in favor of looking for the Black Rose Medal that my son, Toby Vittorino, has lost. That medal is a gift he received on his fourth birthday from Mark. Poor Toby has been sobbing for a long time because of its disappearance. I need to hurry up and find it as soon as possible.

Three years after my family committed me to a psychiatric hospital, I finally managed to escape. But my freedom didn't mean much, not when the cancer had already metastasized. Knowing my days were numbered, I just wanted one decent meal. I used the pocket change I'd scraped together from collecting recycling to buy an ice cream cone—something I had never been allowed to try before. I stood on the street, happily enjoying it, when a metal chain suddenly whipped across my face. "Chantal is seriously ill, and you have the nerve to stand here enjoying yourself? I knew you always wanted her dead." It was my mother, whom I hadn't seen in years. She screamed hysterically, swinging the heavy metal strap of her designer purse and leaving bloody welts across my cheeks. Losing her mind completely, she grabbed me by the hair and slammed my head against the wall. My brother arrived just in time to watch coldly. With a sneer, he ordered his bodyguards to pin me down to the pavement. "Looks like we've been letting you live way too comfortably," he mocked. "Splurging on ice cream while Chantal suffers? Must be nice! But your timing is perfect. She needs a marrow transplant. "You ruined her life, and this is your only shot at redemption. If you're a match, I'll allow you back into this family. Isn't that what you used to beg us for?" Tears silently slipped down my face. It was all too late; the cancer cells were already everywhere in my body. I was going to die very soon.

Opening my eyes in an unfamiliar place with unknown faces surrounding me, everything started there. I have to start from the beginning again, because I am no longer Ayla Navarez and the world I am currently in, was completely different from the world of my past life. Rumi Penelope Lee. The cannon fodder of this world inside the novel I read as Ayla, in the past. The character who only have her beautiful face as the only ' plus ' point in the novel, and the one who died instead of the female lead of the said novel. She fell inlove with the male lead and created troubles on the way. Because she started loving the male lead, her pitiful life led to met her end. Death. Because she's stupid. Literally, stupid. A fool in everything. Love, studies, and all. The only thing she knew of, was to eat and sleep, then love the male lead while creating troubles the next day. Even if she's rich and beautiful, her halo as a cannon fodder won't be able to win against the halo of the heroine. That's why I've decided. Let's ruin the plot. Because who cares about following it, when I, Ayla Navarez, who became Rumi Penelope Lee overnight, would die in the end without even reaching the end of the story? Inside this cliché novel, let's continue living without falling inlove, shall we?

One day, a wealthy couple is invited to give a speech at my university. My childhood sweetheart, Henry McGregor, tugs me along, eager for us to sneak out to the cafeteria and do some part-time work. He tells me to go grab the empty bucket from the shelf. But just as I take a step, a flood of messages suddenly appears in front of my eyes. [Don't touch that bucket! It's filled with scalding soup that Henry prepared. He wants to ruin your face!] [Three years ago, Henry had his first love impersonate you, becoming the long-lost daughter of the Wright family. Now, he plans to disfigure you so you'll never be able to return.] [You'll endure severe burns all over your body and undergo countless skin grafts. In the end, the fake heiress will poison you by swapping your medicine.] [Meanwhile, that scumbag will marry into the Wright family. Along with the impostor, they'll drain the Wrights of everything they have.] [You need to go back right now and let Mrs. Wright see your face. This is your only chance to reclaim your rightful place as their daughter!] At that moment, I hear Henry urging me again to hurry and move the bucket. As I glance at the flood of messages once more, I freeze, stopping dead in my tracks.

Can you believe this? I was just some random fake-sweet girl online, then boom—the richest couple in Rivora City showed up waving fifty million, begging me to be their daughter-in-law. All because their son—the golden boy who was supposed to have it all—threw everything away simping for some broke school beauty. "If that tramp actually loved him, fine. But instead, she keeps rejecting him while milking his name for her family." "Our son's obsessed with that manipulative girl? Then we'll find someone faker. More manipulative. Fight poison with poison." Yeah... that stung a little. But a black card with fifty mil? Hard to stay offended. I signed on to "rescue" their hopeless son. Then I opened the file and laughed. That tramp? My sister. The same snake I crushed years ago.

My parents' enemy kidnaps me and livestreams chopping off my fingers just to force them to show up. For a time, the entire Internet searches for my parents. But what they don't know is that the captain who appeared in the livestream is my biological father. At that moment, he's on a beach in Hashford, setting off magnificent fireworks for his adopted daughter. And on their barbecue table, the livestream of my fingers being severed is playing. Later on, when I survive long enough to be rescued, I reach out my mangled hand to touch my parents. They recoil in disgust and leave without looking back, taking the adopted daughter out for Wersole food. But they don't know that the thing hidden within my mangled palm will make them regret their actions beyond measure.

I was born with a one-track mind—I take everything seriously and do exactly as I'm told. When my adoptive father cursed a rival company, calling them bloodsucking vampires, I immediately went out, bought ten pounds of garlic and a crucifix, and stormed into their CEO's office to perform an exorcism. When my adoptive mother said she was willing to sell a kidney for the sake of the company, I contacted an underground black-market clinic on the spot and asked when they could schedule her surgery. Over time, no one dared joke casually around me anymore. Everyone in the family chose their words with extreme care, terrified I might take them at face value. That is, until the day of the family reunion banquet—when the fake heiress, who refused to leave no matter what, showed up as well. She hooked her arm through my brother's and flashed me a provocative smile. "Arista, Benji dotes on me the most," she said sweetly. "He said if anyone dares to make me unhappy, he'll chop them into pieces and dump them in the river to feed the fish." The banquet hall erupted in laughter. I was the only one whose face went deathly pale. The next second, I kicked my brother, Benji Collins, straight onto the dining table. I grabbed the silver steak knife and pressed it against his throat. "Everyone, stay calm," I announced loudly. "I've already called the police! For publicly advocating premeditated murder, desecration of a corpse, and antisocial personality tendencies… The minimum sentence is the death penalty!"

Just before my wedding, my fate mate, my Alpha fiancé, Micheal, stripped me of my wedding dress—our wedding dress—and handed it to his mistress, Becky Porter. Not only that, but he locked me in the dressing room like some rabid wolf he needed to contain. "Becky has a terminal illness.She just wants to experience being a bride before she dies." I lunged forward, my wolf howling inside me. Alpha's strength pressed against mine, his dominance forcing my muscles to lock. My claws twitched, itching to break free. "You bastard!" I snarled, my breath ragged. Micheal barely blinked. Instead, he let out an exasperated sigh, shaking his head . "She’s dying, and you can’t even show a little compassion?" His tone dripped with disappointment, as if I were the villain here. "You’re only losing a wedding, but Becky… Becky is losing her dreams and her life."

The heart that I had waited two years for was given to the fake heiress, Diane Bishop, by my husband. The doctor said that I only had a week left to live. So, I decided to undergo cryonics. I donated my body to Diane’s workshop. The day I signed the donation papers, my son threw himself into my arms and exclaimed that I had finally made up with Diane. My parents praised me for finally being a good sister to help out Diane. My husband was pleased when he said that I had finally let go of the grudge and had become more understanding. I chuckled. They were right, I had finally learned my lesson. I would give Diane my identity as the heir of Bishop Corporation and fulfill everyone’s wishes.

Everyone in this town knows that when a family gives a daughter away in marriage, the parents always have a grand bridal carriage custom-built for her, adorned with thousands of pearls. Every single pearl on that carriage must be personally harvested by her mother and father—the more pearls, the more cherished the daughter is, and the more her future husband will value her. My own bridal carriage was finished six years ago. But nineteen times now, my wedding date has been set, and each time, my younger foster sister, Lena Bennett, has found some excuse to stop it. This time, on the very morning of my wedding, she locked me in my room again. By the time I smashed through the window and stumbled into the banquet hall, bruised and bleeding, the ceremony was already underway. Lena was sitting in my carriage, led by my brother, Ryan Bennett, toward my fiancé, Nathan Sinclair. My parents stood by the side with tears in their eyes, pleading with Nathan to treat their daughter well. The moment my best friend, Megan Hayes, saw me, she blocked the entrance and pinned me down. "Yes," she confessed, "this whole bride-swap plan—we all came up with it together. Lena is seriously ill. Everyone just wants to grant her dying wish. Try to be understanding." Ryan hurried over and warned me, "Mom and Dad said that if you just behave this one time, not only will they give you ten times more wedding gifts later, but they'll also finally treat you and Lena exactly the same from now on. If not, don't expect to stay in our family estate." I clenched my fists and refused to let a single tear fall in front of them. What they don't know was that over the years, my adoptive parents, Daniel and Susan Ward, had already quietly prepared wedding gifts worth hundreds of thousands for me. So, whatever love and belonging my biological family promised? I don't want it anymore.