Hypocrisy Awakening Maiikling Kwento at Nobela

In Sicily, forgetting a face can get you killed. I was born face-blind. Unless I recognized someone's tattoo or voice, I had no idea who I was looking at. Sometimes, I couldn't even recognize my own parents. But my best friend, Sofia Ricci, was convinced I just wasn't trying hard enough. She decided it was time to cure me of all that "drama." She even got my brother, Don Victor Lombardi, and my fiancé, Luca Marchetti, to play along. The three of them called it "extreme survival training." At the underground casino, they once abandoned me in a private room packed with strangers. At family banquets, they'd ditch the suits I knew them by and vanish into the crowd. I would be left wandering from person to person, asking strangers for help because I couldn't tell who was who. To them, it was survival training. Today, we were in an Old Town square crawling with lowlifes, negotiating a deal. I only left for a moment to wash my hands. When I returned, the three of them had vanished. They were supposed to be waiting outside, but the bodyguards were nowhere to be seen either. Meanwhile, our enemies were closing in from the street. I instinctively reached for my radio. Then it hit me. Sofia had taken my encrypted radio earlier and offered to "hold on to it" for me. I swallowed my panic and backed into a nearby bar. As soon as I reached the counter, the bartender handed me a note. I knew the handwriting. Sofia. "We've shown you twice what the enemies on this street look like. Pick them out and find your own way out. You've got this, sweetie! We'll have drinks waiting for you at the safe house." I looked out the window. A blur of unfamiliar faces was closing in. What a joke. They call this training? They're gambling with my life. But maybe being face-blind isn't such a problem after all. With a gun in my hand, I don't need to recognize anyone. Anyone who comes near me is the enemy.

My usually low-key boyfriend, Wade Sullivan, suddenly announces our relationship in our class group chat. "Hey, everyone, you're all welcome to celebrate Thanksgiving at Merry Mountain Villa, which my parents own. I'll cover your flights, meals, and accommodations. You can also witness me propose to Lucille." The group chat instantly explodes. "Holy crap! When did you two start dating? You've been keeping it pretty well hidden, huh." "I heard Merry Mountain Villa costs 880 dollars a night, and it's still impossible to book a room. Wade, who knew you were secretly a rich hottie?" My best friend, Danielle Klein, excitedly sends me more than a dozen voice messages in a row. "Lucille, you've finally made it! Wade is finally willing to take you home to meet his parents!" But I can only stare at my screen, a chill creeping down my spine. My boyfriend of ten years has always found excuses to avoid letting me meet his parents during the holidays. He doesn't even dare to post a couple of photos with me on Instagram. And now, out of nowhere, he invites the entire class to his hometown to witness our proposal? The more I think about it, the more uneasy I feel. So, I break up with him right then and there. That very night, I accept my company's overseas transfer to Terraton. It isn't until Thanksgiving night that I finally drag my suitcase out of the airport, only for my phone to vibrate like crazy. I have 186 missed calls and over a thousand unread messages in the group chat. Danielle sends me a private voice message, her voice trembling with despair. "Whatever you do, don't answer any calls or reply to any messages. And run as far away as you can!" I open the class group chat, and my scalp instantly prickles with horror.

In my previous life, Timothy Yance's female best friend, Selina Sunther, provoked me during my and Timothy's anniversary dinner. "Rosalie, Timothy got super drunk two days ago, and I was the one who helped him change his underwear. But we're really close buddies, so don't think too much about it." I completely lost my composure at that time, resulting in me hurling my wedding ring away and tearing the marriage certificate into pieces. Later on, I gave up on all of our joint assets just so I could stay away from the shameless pair. In the end, I died in a rehabilitation center located in another country. No one bothered to reach out to me at all. After I got buried, Timothy and Selina worked together to build their business empire. Everyone sang praises about their ethereal love for each other. While people were envious of them for being such a perfect couple, they showed nothing but disdain and mockery toward me when I was mentioned. "Timothy's ex-wife never knew how to appreciate him. No wonder she wasn't worthy of him." When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the night of the anniversary dinner. This time, I just smile serenely at Selina instead of breaking down. Then, I turn to link arms with my male best friend, Calvin Solt, whom I've specifically invited to dinner. I even rest my cheek on his chest. Timothy's expression changes drastically, whereas Selina's smile freezes on her face. Calvin merely smiles faintly before he raises his glass to Timothy as a toast. "Don't misunderstand our relationship, Timothy. Rosalie and I have known each other for 20 years, so we're used to taking care of each other. "Heck, I was also the one taking care of Rosalie the whole time on our first night together, be it in bed or the aftercare."

I'm hospitalized after a car accident that nearly costs me my leg. Meanwhile, my fiancé is too busy in the room next door taking care of his first love. She's only faking a sprained ankle. From that same room, I hear Johan Rivera's mocking voice. "Raelyn? She's just a pawn the old man picked for a political marriage. She's not even good enough to be your stand-in." In that moment, something in me finally breaks. I watch the news coverage of a rising business star who's surrounded by reporters and flashing cameras. He's also my childhood friend who has pursued me for ten years. I calmly send him a message. "Christian, does your offer for a contract marriage still stand?"

After three years of pursuing Vicky Donovan, she finally accepts my confession and agrees to be my girlfriend. Just as I'm happily envisioning our future together, I suddenly receive an anonymous video on my phone. The video shows a roadside beggar with disheveled hair, sitting by a dumpster and clutching a phone in his hand. He looks very emotionally distraught. "Don't believe Vicky at all! She only agreed to be your girlfriend because she found out you're secretly a millionaire! "She will insist on a whirlwind marriage with you and steal all of your money before making a run for it, spending the rest of her days with her lover and leaving you with a mountain of debt!" Then the beggar finally lifts his hair from his face, exposing his face to me—it's completely identical to mine. "You'll end up like me if you don't take my advice!" After the video ends, it takes me a long time to come to my senses. But just as I'm about to replay the video to see if it's all just a scam, I realize it's gone. While I'm still in a daze, Vicky steps out of the bathroom and wraps her arms around my waist, cooing, "Let's get married, Colin Atkinson."

The year of my college entrance exams, I gave up my acceptance to Harvard for James Carter. But after five years into our relationship, I ended it. Outside the dorm building, I caught him holding Sarah Williams, who was dripping in designer labels, locked in a passionate kiss. James smirked, "You're just a simple farmer. What kind of life could you possibly offer me?" But he seemed to forget that I had bought him everything - from his tailored Tom Ford suit to his Rolex watch. Heartbroken, I walked away. If someone else wanted to be a doormat for him, they could be my guest - I was done. Later, I focused on growing my agricultural business, eventually expanding into space farming. That's when the media uncovered my true identity as the heiress to a multi-billion dollar fortune. Mr. Williams groveled, forcing Sarah to kneel beside him, begging me to consider a business partnership. James, his eyes red from crying, grabbed my sleeve and said he regretted everything.

Three days ago, my vampire fiancé, Clan Lord Raven Ashford, took his aide Vera on a private overnight trip to the southern border and gave her the seat reserved for his betrothed. He expected me to make a scene. I didn’t. I had stopped fighting a month ago. A year's worth of small surrenders had finally added up to something I could no longer ignore. He handed the border treaty I had negotiated myself to Vera, thinking I would appeal to the elders. Instead, I organized the handover documents and sent them over. He dismantled the territorial affairs I had managed for years, piece by piece, to pave Vera's way forward. I said nothing. I took the blame that was mine, accepted the cold looks, and let it all pass. At the banquet, he seated Vera beside him. He nodded more at her words than at mine. He thought I had finally accepted it, thought I was afraid to lose him. Then he came to me with offers. A manor in the south. Hunting grounds in the west. The family ring that should finally go on my finger. For the first time, he initiated these things himself, speaking as though granting me rewards. I asked for nothing. The dissolution papers he had already signed were buried among the documents he approved without reading. Those papers contained two declarations: the end of our betrothal and my departure from the clan. He never noticed. He still believed I was his betrothed, still waiting. I wasn't.

My mate Mason not only inherited the Alpha position of the tribe, but also his stepmother Olivia. Mason always explained to me after being intimate with her: “Evelyn, don’t mind it. I had no choice.” “You’re the only one I truly love. Once Olivia gets pregnant and gives birth, I’ll hold the marking ceremony with you.” He said it was the condition set by the Alpha King for him to inherit the Phantom Pack Alpha title. In one year, Mason spent at least three hundred days with Olivia. When Olivia finally got pregnant, I thought I could finally stand by his side as his mate. That’s when I realized—Mason had given both his love and his body to Olivia. I completely gave up and turned to my seven-year-old daughter: “Baby, do you want to leave with Mommy?” “Yes, I want to stay with Mommy,” she said. Mason didn’t know, what I wanted was never the Luna title. All I wanted was wholehearted love. If you can’t give it to me, then I’ll leave.

In the five years of their marriage, Kimberly bore a son for Daniel, believing their life together would last. Then Siena returned to the country. Kimberly finally realized she was nothing but an outsider the whole time. Daniel repeatedly chose Siena over her, and even her son grew attached to Siena. Fortunately, their marriage was just a contract, and in seven days, she would be free to leave.

After an accident and miscarriage, Hansel Saddler and I are so devastated that we're both diagnosed with depression. For the next five years, I try my best to act like I'm normal as I care for him and try to cheer him up. This lasts until I overhear him speaking to the psychologist at the clinic's door. "Work's been getting busy lately, and pretending to be depressed makes it inconvenient to deal with that. Can you change my diagnosis to manic disorder?" The psychologist giggles. "You have been quite manic lately, darling. You've been making me feel really sore down there." "I can make you feel even more sore now." Then, I hear moans and groans. It turns out everything I've done over the past five years is nothing but a joke. I pull up my conversation with Colin Foster. "I agree to undergo secluded treatment deep in the mountains abroad."

At my nephew's college celebration, I ran into my ex-fiancée, whom I hadn't seen in five years. She was dressed to the nines, surrounded by our former classmates. The moment Willow Radcliff saw me, her eyes went red. "You were alive this whole time, Orson. Why didn't you come back to me?" I looked away, wanting to leave. She stopped me and pulled out the engagement ring from years ago. "I sabotaged your college applications three times and forced you to repeat your senior year for three years. And when the fire happened, I chose Gareth over you. I was wrong. "For five years, I've regretted what I did. Now, I want to keep my promise. I want to marry you. Please, give me a chance to make it up to you." She looked at me, silently pleading. Her old classmates immediately started cheering and teasing her. Everyone assumed I would say yes. After all, I'd spent 15 years trying to win Willow over. Even after she sabotaged my college applications three times, I never broke things off with her. But I simply held up my hand, showing her the ring on my finger. "I'm already married."

On the first day of school, I arrive alone to register, clutching my admission letter. But the security guard at the entrance chases me away. I angrily call my best friend, but he simply laughs on the phone. "Wyatt, you literally have glasses, and you can't tell? The admission letter you took was just a fake I made. The real one is still at your house." I immediately buy a ticket home and rush back, sweating anxiously as I search everywhere for it. But after looking for ages, I still can't find it. Then, my phone rings, and I hear Shane's carefree voice. "Wyatt, stop looking. I had Wendy bring your admission letter to you. She's in Linton." I immediately take the high-speed train to Linton. But just as I leave the station, I get a video call from Shane. "You idiot, you actually went looking for Wendy? I was just messing with you. Actually, the security guard didn't kick you out because your admission letter was fake. It was because I told them you were carrying explosives." As he speaks, he turns the camera toward Wendy Zahn, my childhood friend, who is fanning him. And behind her is my younger sister, who is supposed to be on vacation overseas. "Wyatt, why the long face? Can't you take a joke?" she says with a laugh. I stand there, completely stunned. So, my sister has used her vacation as an excuse just to accompany Shane to school. As I look at the smiling faces on the screen, I suddenly feel exhausted. They have played this game at my expense for 18 years. It's time to end it.

The day Dad rents out an entire hospital floor for Mom to deliver my baby brother, a young, attractive nurse can't stop staring at him. She insists Mom needs her rest right after labor and offers to take my baby brother, Alex Hardy, to the next room for a nursing session. In my past life, I was too busy staying by Mom's side, and Dad didn't think much of it, so he agreed. To our surprise, by the very next day, the nurse and Alex vanished without a trace. Unable to cope with the devastating loss, Mom fell into a deep depression and took her own life. Dad couldn't forgive himself for what happened. He left me with Grandpa and followed Mom to the grave. Overnight, I lost every member of my family. I became severely withdrawn, and less than two years later, I fell from the balcony because of my nanny's negligence. My whole family ended up dead. Meanwhile, 18 years later, that same nurse used her status as a foster mother to bring Alex back to claim his place in the family, taking over our family's entire fortune. Even on her deathbed, she still smugly told everyone around her, "Raising this boy was the best investment I ever made." Reborn, I am back to when I was three years old, right after Mom gave birth to Alex. The young, attractive nurse walks into the room with a smile. "Mr. Hardy, it's time for the baby's feeding. Let me take him next door so your wife can get some rest. "Hey little girl, how about I take your baby brother next door for a quick feed?" She gives a sweet, innocent smile, but a cold shiver runs down my spine. Memories of losing my parents flood back to my mind. Gathering all my courage, I shout, "No thanks! My mom can feed him just fine! We don't need you!"

I come from an old-money family. My grandfather's will was ironclad: whoever gets an Ivy League acceptance letter unlocks 25% of a massive trust fund and a seat on the family board. Out of four siblings, I was the only one who stood a chance. Every night, my mother Victoria carefully made me a cup of "organic brain-boosting matcha." My twin sister Chloe and younger brother Mason never got that privilege. The night before the December SAT—the last chance for Regular Decision Ivy scores—Victoria handed me my green matcha as usual. The next day, my mind went completely blank during the test. I blacked out. I missed that application season. Meanwhile, Chloe—who spent her time at yacht parties and couldn't read an equation—miraculously got an offer from UPenn and sailed right onto the board. The second year, right before the test, my snobby cousin Brianna reached for my matcha. Victoria slapped her hand away and screamed: "Don't touch Ava's things!" That exam, I got severe stomach cramps and was rushed to the ER by ambulance. I had to drop out again. And Brianna—who only cared about designer bags—somehow got into Cornell and took her board seat. The whole family popped champagne in our Upper East Side penthouse. I became the laughingstock of Manhattan's elite, having missed two application seasons in a row. Why did my body crash like clockwork, right at the final, life-changing SAT? Prepping for the third time, I took no chances. For three days before the test, I ate only gluten-free detox meals controlled by a private nutritionist. But the night before the big test, Victoria smiled and brought me that familiar cup of green matcha.

My sister-in-law and I have always been close, and we happened to be pregnant at the same time. However, during a routine check-up, she was diagnosed with uterine fibroids. I urged her to have surgery as soon as possible, but she refused and instead claimed her sallow complexion was a sign she was carrying a "child of fortune." She then retreated to the countryside to rest and nurture her pregnancy. Nine months later, while I grieved the loss of my stillborn child, she came back from the countryside with a baby girl in her arms. Consumed by the suspicion that the child was rightfully mine, I demanded a DNA test. That same night, my own mother and brother conspired to take my life. After my death, I discovered it was all a conspiracy. My family had orchestrated everything to swap my child for hers. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back to the moment before I took her for that fateful check-up.

A note under my daughter's pillow reads, "This is our little secret. Don't tell your dad." I hold the note in my hand, and the tips of my fingers turn cold. My buddy, Liam Lywood, is my childhood friend. He always wears my old T-shirts and frequently stays at my house. My wife, Gina Stroud, often praises him. "Now this feels like a real home." Yet my five-year-old daughter, Trixie Glasby, now looks at me like I'm a stranger. It turns out, the man I treat as a brother is sleeping with my wife. And the daughter I cherish has already been brainwashed by those two shameless people into turning against me! When I slap the note down in front of Gina, she snaps instead, "What are you imagining now? Liam takes better care of Trixie than you do!" I smile. Apparently, they've forgotten who really owns this house.

My husband was tall and handsome, but he had no money to pay his debts. During the five years of our marriage, I sold my house and car for him. We then moved to a dark and humid basement that was only 300 square feet in size. When I got pregnant, I wanted to go for checkups, but he said that there was no need for it, as it was a waste of money. So I gave birth to a baby with a congenital heart condition. In order to get the money for his surgery, I worked three jobs every day. At that time, I noticed that my husband bought a mansion worth 40 million dollars for an influencer, and I finally realized that my husband was no orphan, but the son of the richest man in the country.

On the day the gauze was removed from my eyes, I joked that I was blind. "Don't be afraid if you can't see. I'll take care of you my entire life." My husband and best friend took care of me while I was in the hospital. They sincerely made that promise to me. However, when we got home, all three of us were on the same bed. My best friend rode on top of my husband breathlessly. They were caught up in their intimacy as they thought I could not see. My best friend was worried I would suspect something and spoke up to eliminate any suspicion. "Uhh… Summer, I'm just giving your husband a massage." I was so disgusted that I wanted to throw up, but I held myself back. Once they were done, I was about to find an excuse to leave the room when my five-year-old suddenly ran in. "I miss you so much, Mom!" Hearing that warmed my heart, and I opened my arms to hug him, but he ran past me and lay down next to my best friend instead. The 'happy family of three' were all smiles and threw me looks of disgust. I could no longer tolerate this. When I called my lawyer, I told him to bring me the divorce papers. If they wanted to become a family so badly, I would make their wish come true. I just did not know if my best friend could afford to earn a decent enough income to take care of my useless husband and son.

Married to Jasper Brook for six years, I found out that he was keeping a mistress under his wing. She was stunning but timid, shrinking back at the slightest raised voice. Because of this, Jasper never lost his temper around her. He indulged her fragility and treated her preciously. However, the mistress wasn’t as obedient as she appeared. When she stirred up trouble with me, Jasper’s patience snapped, and he unleashed his fury on her. The next day, she sent me a photo of her neck covered in hickeys. “Selena, Mr. Brook is so scary. I’m terrified.”

Every bonding ceremony with Alpha Alexander turned into a nightmare. The first time, my ceremonial wine was laced with wolfsbane. I convulsed and coughed up blood in front of the entire Crescent pack. I became a complete laughingstock. The second time, a hidden silver blade pierced right through my stomach. I collapsed on the altar and stayed in a coma for three weeks. The third time, someone pushed me off the top of the tower. After the fall, my inner wolf never woke up again. All these accidents were the doing of Alexander's adopted sister, Ruby. Her mind was supposed to be completely broken. Every time I confronted him in tears, he would pull me into his arms and wipe my tears. "Evie, my sweet girl," he would whisper softly, "Ruby lost her mind to a rare poison when she saved my life. She has the mind of a pup now. Please, do it for me. Just treat her like a child and let it go." This time, at our fourth ceremony, Ruby lured a rogue into our territory. The entire hall was engulfed in flames from the blast. I tackled Alexander to the ground and shielded him from the silver laced flames. My whole body was burned and mangled. While I lay unconscious in the hospital bed, Alexander stayed by my side day and night, begging the Moon Goddess to wake me up. But when I woke up, I overheard him giving orders to the pack healer outside my door. "Increase the dose of the suppressants. Use the cheapest herbs. Do not let her wounds heal too fast." The healer froze for a moment. "But she was severely injured saving you, Alpha." Alexander's tone was incredibly cold and unfamiliar. "Her pain is not even a fraction of what Ruby went through." "I taught Ruby all these tricks. The explosion was no exception. She learns fast." I gripped the bedsheets tightly. My fingertips turned entirely cold. It turned out all the pain I suffered over the years was orchestrated by the Alpha I loved the most. I swore to the Moon Goddess that I would never let him see my face again.