Same Face Syndrome Novels & Stories

I was twenty-one when the gypsy read my future: As punishment for your crimes, you will only love one woman...but she'll never love you back. I didn't believe a word of it. Until I met Sofia Romano almost ten years later. I fell hard for this woman. Would die for this woman. But she left me. Now years have passed and Sofia needs a husband. Her father is gone and her mother is trying to marry her off to a man that can protect their family, protect their company. She's looking for someone powerful. Check. Someone rich. Check. Someone handsome. Double check. Now it's my chance to have the only woman I've ever loved...and I'll make sure she feels the same way. I have a lifetime to make that happen.

Old commander, Peter Howell, slipped and fell into the water, while his guard—my brother, Joe Castro—was off setting off fireworks with our foster sister, Felicity Castro. After getting a second chance at life, I didn't run to find Joe like I had before. I jumped in without hesitation and dragged Peter out. Last time, I went to get Joe. He made it in time and saved Peter, and from that day on, Peter treated him like a hero. His career took off. But Felicity had started a fire with the fireworks. Her face was badly burned, and she couldn't handle it. In the end, she took her own life. Joe stayed eerily calm and told me it was just an accident. But the day my college acceptance letter came, he grabbed the iron poker from the fireplace and smashed my leg. His face twisted with hatred. "Commander Howell knows how to swim. Why did you have to drag me there? "If you weren't trying to get my attention, Felicity wouldn't have gotten hurt. She wouldn't have died! And now you think you get to go off to college and start fresh? Not happening. "Your future, your life, you'll use it to pay her back!" He beat me until everything went black. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day Peter fell into the water.

Michaela Ferguson had tears streaming on her face and she had blood in the corner of her lips. She shook her head and replied, “It wasn’t me. When I arrived at Shalom shopping mall, your mistress was already injured.” Her husband, Thorne Ferguson didn’t believe her and said, “Pray that Paula will not die because should she die, I will bury you and your family alive.” Then he pushed her hard, and Michaela staggered and fell to the ground. Michaela was in a sorry state. She cursed the day she first met Thorne Ferguson. She had been nothing but a good wife to him. However, her husband had been cold and cruel towards her. Her heart was overwhelmed with bitterness. Thorne looked at his wife with icy-cold eyes and said sternly, “I will never forgive you for touching the love of my life. Paula is my bottom line. I will make sure that you get a life sentence. Please pray hard for her not to die, because should she die I don’t know what I will do to you and your family.”

Led by my ex-boyfriend, the police raid the base of the major crime syndicate. The antagonist takes his own life, and the only person who could prove my identity as a top-secret undercover operative died two weeks ago. My ex-boyfriend drags me into court. He wants my memories extracted so I can face public judgment and sentencing. Nevertheless, I have no intention of explaining myself. "I plead guilty. Grant me a swift death." The masses are outraged, despising me with every fiber of their being. "Ha! You despicable traitor! You monster! You're a rat who exposes undercover journalists, yet you dare ask for a swift death? "This is the world of a novel. The maximum penalty for a guilty plea is euthanasia, but if judgment is passed by the court, you will suffer endless torment until your last breath!" "You don't deserve euthanasia. You belong in hell!" Rotten eggs and stones pelt me mercilessly. Even with my face now covered in blood, I make no effort to avoid the assaults. I only longed for death. My ex-boyfriend glares at me coldly. "You betrayed me. What right do you have to ask for a swift death? Your memories must be extracted and judged in court. Death will come only after your torment!" They are the ones who demand my memories be extracted and judged, yet after seeing them, why are they also the ones who go mad with regret?

While negotiating the terms of a project, a client pressured me into downing a large glass of liquor. While I was washing my face in the restroom, I saw my younger sister’s latest Instagram post. [Low salary? What of it? My parents will always support me!] Above the caption was a photo of a property deed with her name on it, along with a message from our parents. [Mom and Dad will always be your safety net!] It was in a newly developed residential complex. It was also the very neighborhood I had been desperately saving up for a downpayment to buy a home in. At that moment, a torrent of complex emotions washed over me. I splashed my face with water. After clearing my head, I sent a message to my manager, Mr. Jenkins. [I’m willing to take on that overseas project you mentioned.]

He once thought she was just a quiet wife with no big dreams. Now, she’s the face on every magazine, the woman the world admires and the one he let slip away. Eunice Ednah had nothing when she walked out of David Richard’s mansion: no money, no name, and no support. What she had was determination. And a secret: she was carrying his child. Years later, David watches her rise from the shadows to the spotlight, now a billionaire fashion mogul with power, beauty, and grace. The same woman he once underestimated is now the one the city celebrates. It was their child that brought them face to face again David must face the truth: he lost more than a wife. Will love find a second chance? Or has Eunice closed that chapter forever?

Layla Xander was gravely ill, with little time left. From that day forward, she had a revelation—when confronted with life and death, nothing else mattered. Selfish, leeching family members? She cut them off. A fiancé who proposed one day and cozied up to her 'good sister' the next? Out of her life. With nothing holding her back, she was finally free. Rumors about her slowly began to spread through her social circle. “Miss Xander has landed herself a wealthy benefactor.” “Miss Xander was seen vacationing with a young heartthrob.” “Miss Xander’s fortune has skyrocketed. She’s throwing around millions like it’s nothing.” Later, when the truth came to light, those who had abandoned her were left in tears, begging for forgiveness. Her leeching parents wept, “You’ll always be our sweet daughter. Come back home, won’t you?” Her scumbag ex-fiancé pleaded, “You’re the only one I’ve ever loved. Please, give me another chance.” But it was too late! A man stepped in, blocking everyone from getting near her. His face was cold and menacing as he growled, “Anyone who dares disturb Miss Xander again will leave here with broken legs.” And then, later still, that same man—once so untouchable and feared—knelt on one knee before her. His voice was deep and unwavering. “Whether in life or death, you’ll always be mine.” … William Lucas never claimed to be a good man. As the head of an elite and powerful family, his path had been paved with blood, and his decisiveness struck fear into anyone who dared cross him. No one could have guessed that this untouchable figure, feared by all, had been hiding away a tender place in his heart—for a girl. A secret he had carried for eight long years. Every ounce of gentleness he had was reserved solely for her.

Just because I post one picture with my younger brother, Lucas Gambino, his girlfriend Betty Gotti decides I'm the other woman. She rolls up to my place with her crew, live‑streaming the whole thing while they tear it apart. "Look at this puttana trying to steal my man!" Betty shouts to the camera. "She's got the face to flirt, but not the spine to admit it! Give me ideas, chat—I'll teach her some respect." Those psychos destroyed everything. My jewelry, my designer clothes, my bags… they didn't spare a thing. Not even the ring my parents left me. Then, with the viewers egging her on, Betty crossed the line. She had her girls strip me bare on stream. Her chat was going wild, donations pouring in—until my brother saw it. When Lucas kicked in the door to pull me out, I looked at him through eyes that burned. "Dump the girlfriend," I told him. "Or you can forget about ever being the Don."

On New Year's Eve, Facebook blew up. The reason was that Bennett Miles, the golden boy of Crestmoor’s elite, posted an update. In the photo, a shy young woman hid her face as she leaned against his shoulder while he grinned. His eyes were full of affection and mischief. His caption read, "What do I do? Looks like I'm officially taken." Friends in his circle flooded the comment section with congratulations. The real frenzy began when Bennett announced that the first 10,000 followers to like, share, and comment on the post would each receive a gold bar. The internet went wild with envy and curiosity. Everyone scrambled to find out more about the woman in the picture. Then, someone claiming to have inside information started a livestream. "Stop guessing. Her name is Kara Sierra. You know Sierra Hall at Crestmoor College? That building was named after her! "Two years ago, she had kidney failure. Bennett personally donated one of his own kidneys to save her!"

Mom and Aunt Denise Taylor fell off the balcony in the midst of their heated argument. Dad rushed in just as they hit the ground, each with a broken arm. Without hesitation, he left Mom behind and hurriedly took Denise to the hospital instead. Later, Mom filed for divorce. Dad's face twisted in anger as he yelled, "Enough, Nicole! So what if you broke an arm and can't hold a scalpel anymore? What's the big deal? Dee is a genius designer. If she had lost her hand, her life would've been over! Of course, I had to save her first!" Watching all this in my ghostly state, I couldn't help but laugh. Did Dad really think that Mom had only lost the use of her hand? Mom didn't just lose her hand. She lost me. After all, I had severe heart failure, and the only person who could perform the life-saving surgery was Mom, the medical master herself. But none of that matters now, because I'm already gone.