Guess Who My Favorite Person Is

My younger sister Ruth and I got a do-over, reborn to the day we were about to be adopted. Ruth clung to Jeremy, the butcher who'd taken me in during my last life, and begged, "Please, Mr. Butcher, let me be your daughter!" She thought she had it all figured out—Jeremy Butcher was set to rise to power, while the rich couple adopting her would crash and burn. It was clear—she was gunning for the life I built in my last run. I just smiled. She had no clue. Jeremy's success? Yeah, that was all me. Without my help, he'd stay a small-town butcher forever. From day one, Ruth was chasing a dream that was already doomed.

After I landed in the hospital—again—from working myself into the ground, Jacob swore he was done playing house stockbroker. "Starting tomorrow, I'll do anything. Haul bricks, deliver pizza, whatever. I'm not letting you carry this alone." His eyes were glassy as he stormed out of the exam room like he was about to save the day or something. Then the doctor walked in and handed me a report. I was pregnant. Again. Heart racing, I chased after Jacob... and froze. He was standing outside some super VIP room. The same guys who used to bang on our door for money were suddenly all respectful. "Mr. Klein, should we block her door again tomorrow?" Jacob twirled our engagement ring around his finger. "No need. She already lost one baby paying off those debts. The test's over. Time she knew who I really am." Then my best friend—Lillian Morvain—strolled out and wrapped her arms around his waist like she belonged there. "Jacob, don't go soft. Your tests usually last at least five years. What if she's just another gold digger? Plus... I'd miss you." He hesitated. Smirked. "Fine. We'll do it your way. She's not going anywhere anyway." I stood there, clutching my stomach, sliding down the wall like the air had been punched out of me. Later, I pushed open the office door. "Dr. Spencer, I need a termination. Three days from now."

When I was seven years old, a handsome man Mom brought home gave me a box of mangoes. That day, Dad watched me happily eating the mangoes as he signed his name on the divorce agreement. Then, he jumped to his death. From that day on, mangoes became a lifelong nightmare for me. So, on our wedding day, I told my wife, Irene Johnson, "If you ever want a divorce, just give me a mango." She held me without saying a word. From that moment on, mangoes became forbidden for her as well. … On the fifth Christmas Eve after we got married, Irene's childhood sweetheart, Steven Carter, placed a mango on her desk. That same day, she announced that she was cutting ties with him and fired him from the company. That day, I felt that she was the woman destined for me. ... Six months later, I return from overseas after closing a billion-dollar deal. At the celebration dinner, Irene hands me a drink. After I drink half of it, Steven, the man who was kicked out of the company, stands behind me and grins. "Is the mango juice good?" he asks. I look at Irene in disbelief, but she is holding back a laugh. "Don't be mad. Steve insisted I play a joke on you. I didn't give you a mango, just a bottle of its juice. "But I think Steve is right. There's something wrong with you for not eating mangoes. Look at how much you enjoyed it just now!" she says. I keep a cold expression, raise my hand, and splash the remaining mango juice onto her face. Then, I turn and walk away. Some things are never a joke. Mangoes aren't, and neither is my decision to divorce.

Albert Roosevelt was the crush I was never meant to have. Like an idiot, I believed loving someone meant giving them everything, even if they didn't care about you. So, I trailed after him like a desperate puppy, bending over backward to meet his every whim. When he couldn't afford tuition, I begged Dad to fund him, sending him to the best schools. When his worn-out clothes made him a laughingstock, I pitied him and showered him with designer labels. And what did he do? He used what I gave him to chase after a gold-digging campus belle. To keep up appearances, he blew through money like it grew on trees. He even spread rumors that he was the real heir to the Roosevelts. To him, I was just an ATM. "Your family's loaded. It's not like you'll miss a few hundred grand. If you're gonna be stingy, maybe you should stop following me around," he said when his wallet ran dry. And like a fool, I believed that if I kept paying, someday, he'd love me back. After graduation, I funded his startup. The second it took off, he married the campus belle. He had the nerve to claim he earned everything through nothing but hard work. So, I crashed his wedding, and he buried a knife in my chest. "Only when you're dead, Eve Roosevelt. Only then will my pathetic past stay buried." When I opened my eyes again, I was face-to-face with a scowling Albert. "You can't scrape together a few hundred thousand dollars? It's Bianca's birthday. Are you trying to humiliate me?" I looked around the room and rolled my eyes. "Sure, I'll pay. But first? Kneel. You look pretty enough. Consider it charity, peasant."

Veronica Hart has always been in love with Sasha Neville-Talbott. She went from infatuation to love almost without noticing. When she finally found the courage to confess her feelings to Sasha, his cruel words crushed her heart, killing every illusion, every emotion, every chance of being happy together. A few years later, Veronica must meet him again. And even if it’s work-related, she cannot help but feel the way she did that day. Still ashamed by her teenage infatuation with him, Veronica knew it was important that Sasha understand they were now meeting on equal terms. She would do her utmost to play it cool and distant and let him know that all they shared now was a purely business relationship! Even if everything was different and she was acting tough, one simple glimpse of him let her know nothing had changed… Veronica's body still ached for his. Maybe Sasha would never come to love her, but still, she knew she'd do almost anything for just one night in his arms...

The story of a cold-hearted and cruel bodyguard -Jack Macario- with a scar on his cheek that still dissolves in his misery. His elegy accompanies the death of his wife since five years ago. Lilyana -his wife- died of a serious illnes after giving birth to a little baby. A deep sense of longing for the figure of his wife made Jack slumped. For the sake of killing time, Jack's daily life is only spent getting drunk. That afternoon, fate once again tried to play with Jack's life which was meaningless. An incident occurred, Jack accidentally bumped into a girl at the crossroads. The girl was named Sharren Watson, the daughter of a noble in England. Sharren was badly injured, and almost died. However, a bit of luck came to Sharren woke up in a hospital with both legs paralyzed. Because of the reason paralyzed the fiance named Robert Chayton decided to leave her. The predicate 'spinster' is now attached to Sharren. Immediately hatred took over Sharren's mind, she intended to take revenge on Jack. However, her heart betrayed, unconciously, Sharren has fallen in love with Jack. Will Jack be able to receive from Sharren, the spinster? Then what about Jack's five-year-old daughter? Meanwhile, since childhood, Eleanor was close to Deasy, the younger sister of the late Lilyana, who also had feelings for Jack.