The Second Class citizen

“You scrape by, taking me to cheap dinners, wearing the same old clothes, living like you're stuck in some broke college life. It’s embarrassing. You’re embarrassing!” Claire scoffed at Julian,“We’re done, Julian. Take your pathetic cheap gift and get out of my life. This is over.” -- Julian, a young man, barely getting by as a janitor, had always been belittled and looked down upon by society. He was constantly treated like he was worthless. Not caring what the world thought of him, he never stopped trying to make his fiance Claire happy, pouring every ounce of himself into their relationship. However,Julian uncovers the painful trut, that Claire has been cheating on him with his boss, leaving him broken hearted. That same night, he’s left homeless. Faced with the harsh reality, he was forced to reclaim his estranged family empire, to teach those who looked down on him, and treated him like dirt a lesson.

She was his stepmother's maid, sold into servitude as a child. Her world was confined to the mansion and its farmland, dreaming of a freedom she had never known. He was her mistress’s stepson, a man admired by every woman, an influential businessman whose name carried weight across the country. Returning to the estate after years away, he never expected to find something or someone worth noticing here until he saw her. He was mesmerized by her beauty and the subtle sorrow in her eyes held him completely captivated. And for the first time in a long while, he found himself wanting to know more about this particular lady, explore her mysterious world. Would he be the one to shatter her last hope of freedom or the one to set her free from the bounding walls of the mansion?

I was thrown out someone else's door twice before I even turned thirty. The first time was during my marriage with Donald Stern, a businessman. When it was time for my pregnancy checkup, I found out he was making love to a college girl right in front of the 100th floor's window. He called me a childish woman and threw me out the door. My father told me that all wealthy men cheated sooner or later. To prove people wrong, I married my childhood friend of ten years, Shawn Foster. He was accepting and caring of me. He did not mind that my ex-husband still sent apology gifts every year. He did not even mind that we had no children after three years of marriage. Every time we were going at it and reaching the climax, he would nibble on my ear and whisper, "We don't need children. All I need is you." On our anniversary, he brought home a woman I had never seen before and ordered the butler to throw my luggage out of the main bedroom. I clenched the pregnancy test I had not yet shown him. With a trembling voice, I asked, "What's the meaning of this?" A cigarette sat between his fingers. He had a look on his face that said he had just heard the biggest joke getting cracked. "Drop the act already, Yvonne. Haven't you learned anything from Donald dumping you?"

"That b*tch messed with the wrong wife!" An eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth. Hell hath no fury than... A Woman Scorned!

I was born just one minute after Tiara, but the world treated that one minute as if it lasted a lifetime. She was the star. I was the shadow. She was flawless. I was the afterthought. She was loved. I was forgotten. Even by Reagan de Russo, heir to the wealthiest family in the country and the man I had secretly loved for the past ten years. But to him, there was only Tiara. And when he proposed to her, I knew my quiet little dream had finally died. Until that day came. The day Tiara left him at the altar. The day the world stopped turning for just a second. The day the man who had never even glanced my way, turned to me and asked me to take her place. I knew what I was. An escape. A damage control. A backup plan. And I... I was too tired of being strong. So I said yes. We married. Without love. Without a future. Just a one-year contract and a life of make-believe in front of flashing cameras and watching eyes. But the longer I stayed by his side, the harder it became to tell what was real and what was just part of the performance. Because for the first time... Reagan saw me. But can love truly grow from the ruins of lies, old wounds, and the shadow of a woman who’s always been his first choice? Or will I always be… only the second best?

My husband's brother dies before my husband and I marry. My mother-in-law has never liked me, and my husband is a mommy's boy. He listens to her when she forces him to remain in mourning for his brother—within the next three years, we can only register our marriage but not have a wedding. To help his widowed sister-in-law past these difficult times, my husband runs over to her place every few days, leaving me alone at home. Anyone who isn't in the know would think I'm the widow! My scheming sister-in-law even tells her child to address my husband as their father instead of uncle. I sneer. "How shameless of you to want your brother-in-law to care for two families at once. Thank goodness the child in my womb doesn't have such a disgusting father."