Emotional Rollercoaster Novels & Stories

I was out wandering the streets with my brother, Ethan Stone, when a streamer suddenly rushed over with her camera crew and shoved the lens right in his face. "Congrats, handsome! You just got picked as today's lucky passerby. You'll get 100 bucks if you work as my servant for three days!" Before my brother could even respond, she barked orders at her team. They forced an apron and rubber gloves onto him and shoved a bucket full of rags into his hands. "First task: clean my shoes!" I had never seen Ethan look this pathetic before. I was already cracking up when I noticed the veins at his temple start to bulge. Oh, boy. The devil of Avensville was pissed. The streamer's assistant caught it, too. She crept over nervously, tugging at our sleeves as she whispered, "We're live right now. That's the heiress of Stone Corporation, the only daughter of the richest man in the city. If you offend her, you won't survive in Avensville." Wait a second. She was the Stones' only daughter? Then what were Ethan and I supposed to be? I pulled out my phone and called my father, Arnold Stone. "Dad, did you disown Ethan or something? Have you finally decided to leave the whole inheritance to me?"

At the contract-signing meeting, a major client casually asks our new technician if she can handle her alcohol. She immediately pours a glass of red wine over his head and says coolly, "This sort of socializing is a bad habit. I'm putting an end to it." Leon Langley, a top client who brings the company 300 million dollars in annual revenue, flies into a rage and tears up the contract on the spot. As the project lead, I bend over backward to apologize and drink with Mr. Langley until I'm hospitalized with gastric bleeding—just to salvage the deal. When I report the incident to my boss, he scolds me instead. "As the person in charge, you nearly ruined the project. Forget the three-million-dollar commission we planned to give you. Consider this a warning." After that, I put Hannah Storrie's name on the department's downsizing review list. She sneers. "I'm a top talent the boss poached at great expense. I'm not some cheap hostess who survives by smiling and drinking like you. "Firing me would be throwing the company down the drain. When that happens, you'll be begging me to come back." I ignore her. However, when the review period ends, the name on the layoff list turns out to be mine. My boss seizes the opportunity to announce that Hannah will replace me as the new sales director. "Clients are extremely important to us. You don't seriously think you're capable of landing them, do you? "Hannah's is more qualified, more tech-savvy, and prettier than you. She's clearly the better choice." I simply smile, turn around, and dial a number.

The moment Tammy, my adoptive parents’ biological daughter, was found, she began to stage the scene of a ‘real vs fake heiress’ drama. Tammy had cameras installed all over the house. Nowhere was safe, not even in the privacy of the bathroom. When one shorted out during her shower, Tammy landed herself in the hospital. Through tears, she told my parents that I was trying to get rid of her and demanded to call the cops. During a dinner out at the hotel restaurant, Tammy lost her footing and fell into the pool, all the while dragging me down. She cried and accused me of pushing her into the water. Apparently, had she not been smart enough to pull me along the ride, I would’ve gotten her killed. While our parents were away taking care of our hospital bills, Tammy snapped me an intimidating look. “I’m warning you. I’m different from the other heiresses in my position. I won’t put up with your antics. You can’t hide who you really are from Mom and Dad! “I’m going to get you kicked out of this house!” I smirked to myself. The silly girl had no idea that the wealth of the family came from me. She was no heiress once I took my riches away with me.

I help my students gain admission to top state art academies, yet my boss, Sebastian Emerson, withholds every cent of the pay I earned from 24 consecutive days of overtime. When I confront him in anger, he accuses me of stealing 120 thousand dollars in training fees from the students. "Honestly, being poor is no excuse for being shady. And having disabled parents doesn't give you the right to steal. "You've got two days to pay it back! Otherwise, I'll make sure you spend a few nights in jail, and I'll even inform your parents!" When a student calls, he snatches the phone and starts screaming, "There's no money! All your tuition went into buying your art supplies! If you've got a problem, go ahead and sue me, brat!" Meanwhile, Jayla Buckley, who is curled up in his arms, keeps placing order after order of Chaennal haute couture without the slightest hesitation. Watching the two of them colluding so shamelessly, I grip my attorney license in my pocket until my knuckles ache. Take it to court? Litigation? That's my arena. And I'll make sure both of them end up exactly where they belong—behind bars.

There had been a shortage of faculty at the start of the freshman year, so I had temporarily stepped in to take on the role of a student advisor. To avoid unnecessary trouble, I had deliberately dressed down in the plainest shirt I could find and put on a pair of thick black-rimmed glasses. However, a troublemaking student brought a group of people and blocked me on the field just as the opening ceremony ended. "Hey, old hag, you're done being a faculty member in Salt-U. How dare you dress like that on purpose to mess with my eyes! Strip and get on your knees, and I might let you off this once!" I narrowed my eyes, irritation rising. Then, I reminded him of the student code of conduct. He immediately blew up. "Cut the act! Who do you think you're fooling? My dad's the Director of Academic Administration! He's the one in charge of your evaluations!" The field suddenly fell silent, and all the freshmen began sneaking glances in our direction. I unhurriedly took off my glasses and let out a low chuckle as I looked down at the meeting notes in my hand. His father was a director, he thought that was enough of a reason for him to behave so imperiously. In that case, I supposed that the first item on the board meeting agenda that day would be the dismissal of the Director of Academic Administration.

My mother-in-law suffered a sudden brain hemorrhage and was rushed into the ICU. The hospital demanded a $200,000 surgery deposit immediately, so I rushed to the bank to raise my transfer limit. The trainee teller behind the counter took my ID card, swiped it through the reader, then stared at her screen for a long time. "Hello, ma'am. Our system has flagged this transaction as suspicious and potentially linked to elder fraud. Your account has been frozen." "That's impossible! That money is for emergency surgery! My mother is still waiting at the hospital!" The trainee gave me a perfectly rehearsed customer-service smile. "For the safety of your funds, we'll need the account holder to appear in person to unlock the account." I slammed my ID against the bulletproof glass and pointed at the name on it. "Open your eyes and read carefully! I am the account holder! Who else are you waiting for?" The trainee shrank back slightly, looking utterly wronged, then spoke into the microphone in a meek voice. "Ma'am, please control your behavior. The system's risk controls are determined by big data. There's nothing I can do. "If you continue shouting and disrupting financial order, I will have to call the police." Oh, I see. She wanted to play power games using company policy as a weapon? Fine. I was more than willing to play along.

After my best friend, Penny Hallmark, found herself a wealthy man, she suddenly became a different person. I had done nothing more than glance at her husband, Martin Rembrandt, yet she slapped me hard across the face. “I treated you as my closest friend, but you dared seduce Martin right in front of me. He’s Chris’s brother! Have you no shame at all?” Her accusation brought tears to my eyes, but Penny resorted to locking me inside a reservoir. “What are you playing at anyway? Fine. Let me give you something to really cry about!” I nearly drowned, and she uploaded photos of me soaked to the skin, claiming online that I was behaving indecently. I became the target of cyberbullying, my boyfriend, Christopher Rembrandt, proposed a breakup, and in utter despair, I decided to end my life. Yet my best friend mocked me coldly. “Do you really think I don’t know your little tricks? You’re just pretending to be pitiful to gain sympathy, aren’t you? “That won’t do at all, Rose. Let me give you a hand!” She pulled out my breathing tube, and only when my life completely slipped away did she smile in satisfaction. “Good. Now I can enjoy both Chris and Martin’s affection.” When I opened my eyes again, I had transmigrated into the body of Chris’s mother, who had just passed away. Given a second chance at life, I was determined to make Penny pay. After all, the man she loved most was nothing more than a hopeless mama’s boy.

I was having lunch in the cafeteria when my pregnant coworker, Cindy Jenkins, reached across with her fork and speared the fried chicken drumstick right off my plate. She did not say a word until she had finished every last bite, then casually remarked, "I'm six months pregnant now, which is when I need the most nutrition. Plus, I'm carrying a boy, the only grandson in my husband's family. Do you all understand how important this baby is?" I stared at her, dumbfounded. "What's that got to do with me? It's not like I'm the father." She completely ignored me and said, "I'm just letting you all know. From now on, you're taking turns giving me your chicken drumsticks." The other coworkers at the table quickly looked down and focused on their food, nobody daring to say anything. Only me, the one person who never backed down, kept staring straight at her. Cindy slammed her fork onto her tray. "What are you looking at? Your drumsticks are mine from now on, got it?"

When I see someone asking for help in an assignment related to the entrepreneur course on the college forum, I join the group chat using a student account. I even help refine several financial models and market strategies because of my job's nature. Everyone in the group chat is excited, to say the least. Every day, they keep calling me a genius while urging me to improve the details of the whole assignment. Two months later, the assignment's quality is very close to perfection. But the group chat suddenly goes silent. I scroll through the chat history out of curiosity, only to find out that the students have already created another group chat. "That senior isn't an official teammate of ours. Let's not tell her about us using this assignment for an upcoming competition." "Precisely! Our names are the only ones on the list! She'd better not steal the credit during tomorrow's finals!" "With one less person involved, we each get an additional tens of thousands of dollars' worth of rewards!" As I look at the screen, I just let out a soft chuckle. It appears that this isn't an assignment at all. But unfortunately for these students, I happen to be one of the judges sitting at the judging station tomorrow.

The day after my mom used 880 grand from selling our family restaurant to buy a house for my cousin, my girlfriend of five years dumped me. "Evan," Ruby Lawrence said while she sat across from me. "Let's break up." My hands trembled. "Why?" "I waited for you for five years." Her eyes welled with tears. "You said once the restaurant was sold, we'd have the down payment for a house in Seahaven. Where is it now? Where's the money?" I tried to explain, but she cut me off. "In your parents' eyes, you're not even as important as your cousin. So tell me, who's really their son? I'm 28, Evan. I can't keep waiting." She grabbed her bag and walked away without looking back. My phone buzzed. My mom sent me a photo of her and my cousin at his new house. That was followed with a voice note. She sounded joyful. "Your cousin finally achieved his biggest life goal. We can relax now." I stared at his smug smile in the photo. I laughed until tears ran down my face. I exited the 'Clark Family Forever' group chat and blocked every single relative. 'Since you all choose him, then from this moment on, your reputation or loyalty will have nothing to do with me. I only wonder if you'll think of the son you abandoned when that precious nephew of yours, who you poured all your resources into, throws you out of your own home.'