Bfdi Laugh

The autumn break has just ended when a call arrives from school. "Ms. Watson, your daughter failed to secure a scholarship and bullied her classmate in retaliation. Can you please come to school?" When I rush over, I find Lila Keats bound to a trash can, her hair drenched in sewage, and her mouth sealed with duct tape. Meanwhile, the so-called victim merely has had two strands of hair pulled out. After some querying, I discover that Melody Caldwell is jealous of Lila's achievements and has been waiting for an opportunity to strike. When I demand an apology, Vanessa Morrison flies into a rage. "You're lowly trash without a proper family! My daughter teaching her a lesson is the greatest honor you can obtain in this life! "Expel her immediately! My husband works in the Education Bureau! Beg for mercy, or she can forget about taking the college entrance exam!" That arrogant woman is convinced that Lila and I will beg for forgiveness after being expelled. Unfortunately, she has chosen to mess with the wrong person. Lila's grandfather is a nuclear weapons expert. Her true origins have been concealed for her safety since her whole family works for classified operations. I immediately call the Intelligence Agency. "Mr. Keats' granddaughter was bullied severely at school. Send someone here to deal with this now!"

On my way to the interview, my best friend—who had always warned me not to meddle in other people’s business—suddenly rushed toward the crashed luxury car without hesitation. That was when I knew she had been reborn too. In our previous life, she and I were known as the two top aces of the Finance Department. After graduation, we both made it to the final interview at one of the world’s top five hundred companies. On the day of that interview, we encountered a terrible car accident. The company’s president was inside the wreck. I gave up the interview to save him, while my friend ran straight to the interview without looking back. In the end, she got the offer, and I lost my chance at the prestigious firm. Everyone pitied me. However, the president held a grand wedding to repay me. I became the wife of my friend’s boss. I was admired and envied by all. She, on the other hand, struggled under endless performance targets. She got buried by work. At the company’s annual gala, I stood beside the president, dazzling under the lights, while she faded into the crowd—exhausted and invisible. Jealousy drove her mad. She grabbed a knife and stabbed me right there at the gala. When I opened my eyes again, she and I had both returned to the day of the president’s car accident.

Even though I was the one who broke my ribs in the car accident, my boyfriend Jared decided to take care of his drunk ex-girlfriend instead. When I called to ask him to spend time with me in the hospital, he berated me. “Why are you so clingy? Can’t you tell that Isabelle needs me right now? “You’re a nurse, aren’t you? What, you can’t even take care of yourself now?” Heartbroken, I suggested we break up, only to be met with anger. “I was going to propose to you, you know? Considering how influential my family business is, I need to make sure I choose my wife wisely. “Today was a test to see if you have what it takes to be the next Mrs. Carter. I thought you would be independent and selfless. I expect my future wife to have my back no matter what. “Look at yourself now. You can’t even take care of yourself over something so insignificant! I’m disappointed, Charmaine.” The next day, he posted a picture of himself and his ex-girlfriend on social media. The image’s caption was targeted at me: [You’d better think twice and apologize, Charmaine, or I’ll just date someone else.] I did not apologize. I had had enough of him, so I left the city. Three years later, I saw him again in the lobby of the Financial Tower. I was wearing a heavy onesie costume and sporting a full face of cosplay makeup, while he was wearing an expensive suit and had Isabelle hanging delicately from his arm. He recognized me immediately and laughed. “I knew you never moved on from me, Charmaine! Does it hurt to know I’ll be marrying someone else? “That’s what you’re doing here, right? You’re trying to cosplay as my favorite Marvel character to get my attention. “Maybe I’ll consider taking you back if you kneel and apologize.” I did not deign to reply. I had indeed loved him once upon a time, but today was my son’s birthday, and the cosplay was my surprise for him...

All because his first love, Luna Harper, needed test subjects for her drug research, Jake Bertrand sent me to a mental hospital when I was pregnant just so I could serve as an experiment subject for her. I was electroshocked until I drooled and convulsed, but he simply covered his first love’s eyes in disgust, saying, “What filth. Don’t look.” Thanks to the results of this experiment, Luna received a nomination for an award, and he lit up the entire city with fireworks to celebrate her success. Meanwhile, during the freezing winter night under the dazzling fireworks, I gave birth to a deformed male fetus. The child cried just once before passing away. Numbly, I placed the stillborn into a freezing chamber. Seven days later, at the awards ceremony for Luna, it would appear in Jake’s hands as a gift.

Adrian Moretti’s adopted sister—She knew perfectly well that I suffered from severe asthma and could not be exposed to smoke or strong scents. Yet during the yacht reception, she deliberately dragged me onto the open deck, where cigars burned nonstop and the wind howled. Within seconds, my chest tightened. When I reached for my inhaler, my blood ran cold. It was empty. I collapsed against the railing, gasping violently, my lungs burning as if they were collapsing in on themselves. She crouched beside me and smiled. “You’re always so dramatic. It’s just a little smoke. You don’t need to act like you’re dying,” she said softly. “You’re too weak. You need to build some tolerance.” I looked toward Adrian, my vision already blurring. “Adrian,” I choked. “Give me my inhaler. If I don’t use it right now, I’m going to suffocate.” He frowned slightly. “Don’t you think you’re overreacting?” he said coldly. “I’ve never heard of anyone dying from a bit of smoke. She’s right—you’re always seeking attention. We finally gathered tonight, and you’re ruining it.” My heart dropped. I fumbled for my phone and called my mother. “Mom,” I sobbed, barely able to breathe. “I’m being bullied… and I can’t breathe.” My voice shook violently.

“Just...I have one question before this,” I pretend to not see his hurtful look, keeping my eyes on his chest, “...Please.” Would it change anything if I’m pregnant? I want to ask, I don’t know how. Taking a deep breath, I look up, just to catch him rolling his eyes with a sigh: “I don’t have time for your games, Scar.” Home? I laugh bitterly. We don’t have a home anymore, Sebastian. I built one for us, and you broke it.