Mandy's hands trembled as she tore open the envelope. Her heart pounded in her chest, a sickening mixture of dread and curiosity swirling in her stomach. The paper felt heavy between her fingers as she unfolded it, revealing a neatly folded newspaper inside. She swallowed hard, forcing herself to open it and see what horrible surprise awaited her this time.
The headline screamed at her: **"The Divorced and Rejected Wife of the Famous Billionaire Ramsey Wendel is Getting Married to the Norton's Cleaner, Dwight Cullen."** Mandy's breath caught in her throat. The words blurred as tears welled up in her eyes. This was Ramsey's doing—she was sure of it. But how had he found out? How had he turned her humiliation into this public spectacle? Sobs racked her body as she read the article's cruel words: **"Rumors swirl that Mandy Norton was caught cheating on her husband with her pauper lover, Dwight Cullen. Sources claim she is even pregnant with his child."** Mandy screamed, her voice echoing through the Norton mansion. The shame was unbearable. Her reputation, her dignity, everything had been stripped away by the man who once vowed to love her. How could Ramsey do this to her? How could he be so heartless? But as the pain coursed through her, it transformed into something else. Anger. Burning, seething anger. She would make Ramsey pay for this—no matter what it took. He wouldn't get away with destroying her life. Not this time. The next day, Mandy was forced to marry Dwight Cullen in what could only be described as the most disgraceful wedding Los Angeles had ever seen. The courthouse was nearly empty, save for a few reporters and the judge. No friends, no family, just Mandy in a plain, cheap dress and Dwight looking more like a frightened boy than a groom. The wedding made the headlines again: **"The Most Embarrassing Wedding in Los Angeles: Mandy Norton Weds the Nortons' Cleaner."** Everywhere she went, people whispered, pointed, and laughed. Strangers on the street mocked her openly, some even throwing insults and snide comments as she passed. The humiliation was relentless, a constant reminder of her fall from grace. At the mansion, things were no better. Mandy's cousins, Elsa and Rachel, took every opportunity to ridicule her, their voices dripping with contempt. "Look at you, Mandy," Elsa sneered. "You were always so high and mighty, and now you're married to a cleaner. How the mighty have fallen!" Rachel snickered, adding, "I guess Karma finally caught up with you. You didn't let Elsa marry Ramsey, and now look where you are!" Their father, Uncle Mark, had returned from Tokyo with their brother Gerald, just in time to witness Mandy's disgrace. His eyes narrowed as he took in the sight of his niece and her new husband. "Mandy, you deserve this," he said coldly. "The law of Karma has caught up with you. You had your chance with Ramsey, and you threw it away. Now, this is where you belong." Gerald, the only grandson of the Norton family, took one look at Dwight and sneered. "pack your belongings and Get lost," he ordered. "You are fired. You and your cheap wife don’t belong here." Dwight fell to his knees, desperation etched across his face. "Please, sir, we have nowhere else to go. please Let us stay." But Gerald was unmoved. He lashed out, delivering a brutal kick to Dwight's side. Dwight crumpled to the floor, clutching his ribs in pain. "You're nothing but trash," Gerald spat. "You think you can just walk in here and take what's ours? Get out before I throw you out!" Mandy stood frozen, tears streaming down her face as she watched Gerald beat her husband. She wanted to fight back, to defend Dwight, but the fear paralyzed her. How had her life come to this? How had she gone from being a respected woman to this? In the midst of the chaos, Grandpa Benson Norton appeared, his weathered face filled with pity. "Let them stay in the cottage at the corner of the mansion," he said softly. "At least give them that." Gerald scowled but didn't argue. He simply gave Dwight one last kick before storming off. Dwight struggled to his feet, wincing in pain, and Mandy rushed to his side. Together, they limped to the small, rundown cottage at the edge of the Mansion. The cottage was cold and damp, a far cry from the luxurious life Mandy had once known. But at least it was a roof over their heads. She and Dwight huddled together on the creaky bed, both of them weeping silently. The world had turned against them, but in that moment, they made a silent vow. The Nortons and the Wendels would pay for what they had done. They would regret the day they crossed Mandy Norton. Meanwhile, Bella, who had been absent throughout the whole turmoil, was seen by Serena heading toward a luxurious hotel. Serena, who didn't like her from their first meeting and felt intimidated by her, decided to follow her up to know her doings. She secretly followed Bella all the way, hatred steaming up. Reaching the hotel, she discovered the most unexpected: Bella was having a secret affair with Ramsey. Serena’s heart shattered as she watched them, unable to confront them. She left the hotel unnoticed, her resolve hardening. She would find a way to hurt Ramsey for his betrayal! she will never let him go Scott free. *** Hours passed, and night fell over the cottage. Mandy was cleaning Dwight's wounds, her hands gentle but firm as she patched him up. He winced with every touch, but he didn't complain. The humiliation and pain had taken a toll on both of them. As she worked, Dwight's cheap, old phone buzzed on the nightstand. Mandy glanced at it, then at Dwight, who seemed too exhausted to care. She picked up the phone, the screen cracked and dirty, and saw an unknown number flashing on the screen. "It's ringing," she said softly, holding the phone out to him. Dwight groaned and took the phone from her, pressing it to his ear. "Hello?" he mumbled, his voice weak. Mandy watched as his expression changed from weary to tense in an instant. His eyes widened, and he sat up straighter, clutching the phone tightly. "Yes! I'm Dwight Cullen," he said, his voice now trembling with a mix of fear and confusion. He listened for a moment, and then suddenly, he screamed, "What?!" The phone slipped from his hand and clattered to the floor as he stared ahead in shock. Mandy's heart raced as she reached for him, panic rising in her chest.The dining room was filled with an unspoken heaviness as Rachel, Elsa, and Uncle Mark gathered for lunch at the Norton's Mansion. Uncle Mark, leaning back thoughtfully, looked at each of his daughters with pride and empathy. Breaking the silence, he gently asked, “What’s the way forward, girls? Where do you see yourselves, now, after everything?” Elsa spoke up first, her tone determined yet reflective. “I’ve always dreamed of becoming a lawyer,” she began. “But I’ve seen what it takes to make a real name as one… the compromises, the shortcuts. I can’t become someone like Stefano McReynolds. Modeling, on the other hand,” she continued, a flicker of newfound confidence brightening her face, “it feels natural. I’ve realized it’s something I’m genuinely good at, and I want to give it everything I’ve got.” Uncle Mark smiled, his eyes warm with approval. “Elsa, whatever path you choose, know I’m standing behind you. Follow your heart, and the rest will fall into place.” Elsa’s cheeks
Dwight was just about to leave Mandy’s rehab ward when he found the doctor waiting at the entrance. He quickly stepped aside to speak with him, concern clouding his face. “Mandy’s recovery is going well, doctor,” he began quietly. “But she’s having episodes of memory loss. She can’t remember certain events… especially losing our child. What do we do now?” The doctor raised an eyebrow, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “Does she remember having a baby at all?” “Yes,” Dwight admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “But she believes the baby is still in the incubator. I… I told her that, hoping it would ease her mind.” The doctor nodded, a plan forming in his mind. “In that case, there might be a way to help her continue healing,” he said carefully. “If she can’t recall losing the baby, then… adopt a newborn. Present it to her as her own child.” Dwight stared at the doctor in shock, the idea hitting him like a wave. “You mean… find a child and pretend it’s hers?” “Yes,” the doc
The atmosphere in the courtroom was thick with tension as Serena stood before the jury, her once-proud demeanor shattered. Today was her hearing, and she faced charges for the murder of little Bella, a robbery, and the ruthless crime she had framed Peter Allison for. Serena shifted uncomfortably, her hands vibrating as the judge prepared to read the verdict. The foreperson of the jury rose, casting a sharp glance in Serena’s direction before delivering the final judgment. “The jury has found you guilty of first degree murder. I hereby sentence you to twenty five hundred consecutive life sentences plus a thousand years.”She turned to face Serena, her face beet red with contempt like there was more of a personal grudge between them than a federal case. "Once you pass away, you will receive an attempted escape charge with an additional two hundred years added to your sentence which you will begin serving in the afterlife once you get hell." Her eyes were fierce and full of resentment
Dwight picked a lighter from the kitchen and headed back to the living room.The flames from the lighter flickered in the dimly lit room as he approached Ramsey, who lay slumped and bound in the chair. Without a hint of hesitation, Dwight flicked the lighter, setting Ramsey’s hair alight in an instant. The fire crackled to life, devouring the strands and singeing his scalp, sending smoke spiraling into the air. Ramsey screamed, his voice hoarse, begging, pleading for Dwight to end it all. As the fire died, leaving Ramsey’s head charred and his spirit all but shattered, he let out a ragged sob. His skin, bruised and torn, showed a ghostly paleness beneath the streaks of blood. He could feel his strength slipping away, the life draining from him with each passing second. Desperate, he attempted to bite his tongue in a last effort to escape the torment, but his body betrayed him; his jaw trembled, teeth chattering too weakly to do any real harm. For a long moment, Dwight just stood th
Ramsey’s body shook, his tone barely concealing the fear behind his words as he looked up at Dwight, shackled and bound. He swallowed hard, watching Dwight rummage through the backpack filled with a disturbing array of tools, each promising a unique kind of agony. “What do you want?” Ramsey asked, forcing a calmness into his tone that belied the terror swirling inside him. Dwight chuckled darkly, shaking his head. “What do I want? really? Ramsey, you seem to have cheated the face death so often that you now think you're unkillable. Am I right?” He tilted his head, a sinister glint in his eyes. Ramsey attempted to use psychology to save himself. “I know you, Dwight Mendez,” he said, his voice feigning familiarity. “You’re not like me. You’re a good man, a better man. You’re not capable of killing anyone.” Dwight laughed, but it wasn’t the laugh of a man who found amusement. It was cold, devoid of warmth, and filled with pain. His gaze flickered to Hannah’s lifeless body sprawle
Dwight pulled into the driveway of his mansion, his mind set, heart hardened. This night, there was only one objective: justice for Mandy, for Bella, for everything Serena, Hannah, and Ramsey had taken from him. He strode inside, up the grand staircase, and into his private study. With quick precision, he unlocked his safe, pulling out a small, polished handgun. As he tucked it into his coat, his thoughts were interrupted by a quiet voice. “Sir,” one of the maids approached, her face filled with worry. “We’ve been searching for Clara for days. She’s disappeared without a word. We think…we think maybe she ran away with Hannah.” Dwight’s expression didn’t change; he simply gave a curt nod. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll find her.” The maid looked on, unsure, but Dwight had already turned, a cold resolve in his eyes. Tonight, he would tie up all loose ends. As he drove, Dwight made a stop at a small, dimly lit store, where he gathered an arsenal of tools designed to inflict slow, prec