Bias

For five years, I quietly supported my boyfriend, helping him rise from a lawyer's assistant to a partner at a top-tier law firm. At the annual awards ceremony, I was thrilled, ready to celebrate publicly and surprise him. But then, he walked on stage with a female coworker, their behavior cozy and intimate. "Cade owes his success to my brilliant strategies behind the scenes," Caitlyn boasted. Cade smiled, echoing her words, "Absolutely, without Caitlyn, I wouldn't be where I am today." The audience erupted in applause, congratulating them. I stood at the back of the crowd, frozen. Leaving the venue, I called my assistant. "Cut off all networking support for Cade Gilliam. End all cooperation. That shady case he took on? Stop smoothing things over. Let him face the consequences."

My CEO husband developed a strange illness. His heart chose me, but his body chose his intern. He would vanish for ten days every month to see his intern for "treatment." “Zoe, the doctor says it’s a physiological dependency. My body chose Molly, but you’re the one I truly love, now and always!” To make me believe him, he swore vicious oaths and even went so far as to hurt himself to prove his love. My eyes burned red, but in the end, I softened. It wasn't until I was late in my pregnancy, when a falling billboard struck me and I miscarried. I called my husband again and again, but he never picked up. Then, moments later, I saw the intern’s post online. The caption wrote: [Unlocked a new identity: Mom. From now on, we’re a happy family of three!] In the photo, my husband looked at her with gentle affection. His hand rested on her belly and her prenatal report clutched in his other hand. That was when I realized the one his heart and body had chosen all along was her. At that moment, I knew our marriage was over.

When my body was being dismembered, my fiance was helping my cousin choose her wedding dress. When he received my distress call, he said with disgust, "I hope you never come back! You can die with the bastard in your womb! Don't ever call me again. The mentioning of your name makes me sick!" After that, he found a body part of me in a water tank on the rooftop of a hotel. He thought it was a prank, so he actually ordered white lilies and candles to be delivered to my doorstep. Only when he found my head buried in the grass under his feet on the day of our wedding did he realize that it wasn't a prank.

When the kidnapper fired the gun, I shielded Scott with my body. The bullet pierced my heart, and I was sent overseas to have my heart exchanged with an artificial one—one that ran on a battery. Because of this heart, Scott married me, and my friends congratulated me for finally having my wish granted, for finally marrying my childhood sweetheart. Later, when I laid there on the operating table with my chest cut open, he was kissing another woman under the moonlight. I didn't react to this in the slightest, recovering my heart in silence. Scott resented my numbness, grabbing my shoulders as he demanded, "Wendy, aren't you angry about this?" He didn't know the reason, and to be honest, it was quite simple. Why be angry when my heart was on the verge of giving out? Every passionate day he spent chasing after love… Was another tick in the countdown to the end of my life.

My daughter, Jillian Hamilton, viewed me as a love rival since she was a kid. Every time my husband, Kelvin Hamilton, and I attempted to engage in bedroom activities, she'd rush into our room to split us up. "You slut of a mom! Stop seducing my dad!" When Kelvin placed some food on my plate, Jillian wept loudly while climbing up the rooftop. "I'll jump off the building right now unless you stay away from Mom, Dad!" Even when I was putting on makeup, Jillian would mock me incessantly. "No matter how much you doll yourself up, an old hag like you can never compete against me." Later on, Kelvin got caught cheating on me with another woman. I was worried that Jillian might get bullied by her new stepmother, Maisie Ferrera, so I did everything I could to fight for her custody. But Jillian splashed me with sulphuric acid hysterically. "You can forget about separating me and Dad! Dad can only be mine!" Noting how pitiful I was, the omnipotent being decided to give me a chance to get reborn. This time, I give up on Jillian's custody without hesitation. "From now on, I just want to stay as far as I can from Jillian!"

I was Alpha Dylan’s “mate-in-waiting” for six years. Every night, he’d make love to me, worshipping every inch of my body. On our sixth anniversary, he promised me a surprise. I thought he was finally going to make me his official Luna. Instead, I watched him place the moonstone necklace, the symbol of the Luna, around the neck of Lady Lilith from the Black Forest Pack. He took my hand and explained, “Lilith has a rare disease, Moon-Eater's sickness. The only cure is to complete the mating bond with a powerful Alpha.” “Don’t worry. In three months, you’ll take your rightful place as my Luna.” I didn’t cry or fight like I used to. Instead, I sent a message to the Alpha King, the fated mate I once rejected. “About your offer to marry me… I accept.”

My sister and I were both enslaved after the Great War and the defeat of humankind. But before long, my sister's striptease performance earned the Alpha lycan's favor, and they soon left, holding hands. On the other hand, I was taken away by a masked man unceremoniously after he left some money on the counter. However, no one expected the Alpha lycan to chew through my sister's throat during the full moon, while the masked man treasured me, pampering me with endless wealth and prestige. My sister turned into a vengeful spirit then and cursed me to death. When I opened my eyes again, we had both reincarnated to that fateful day. This time, my sister threw herself straight into the masked man's arms, sniffling as she begged, "Please love me?" Standing nearby, I laughed. After all, it was wonderful that I didn't have to be a vampire's walking blood pack in this life.

In my previous life, I shoved the police chief’s daughter out of the way with everything I had. A truck ran over me instead, crushing both my legs. The police department awarded me a medal and I became a hero praised by the entire city. However, when she woke up, she pointed at me and told her father that I tried to kill her. My parents slapped me on the spot. “Why would you try to hurt her?!” My younger brother stood behind them and said quietly, “Henry… I saw you that day. You really did push her…” The driver who hit us claimed I had instructed him to run her down and said I was trying to stage an accident to murder her. I was sentenced to fifteen years. The day I entered prison, I was in a wheelchair. My mother held my brother’s hand and glanced back at me. Her eyes were filled with disgust. “How did we raise a monster like you?” In prison, a gang leader arranged by the police chief gouged out my eyes and slashed the tendons in my hands. I died consumed by hatred. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at that same intersection. A large truck was barreling straight toward the police chief’s daughter. I slowly took a step back. This time, I was not going to save anyone.

On Frankie Sutton's birthday banquet in the tenth year of us being together, all of our family, friends, and relatives were confident that I'd propose to him again. After all, I gave up on my family's assets that are worth tens of millions of dollars back in Glufford just so I can travel all the way to Arkvine with Frankie in order to start a pig-rearing business. I've been clinging to him for ten long years so that I can marry him. But even when the clock hits 5:00 am, I'm still nowhere to be seen in my wedding gown. All Frankie receives is a text from me, stating that I'm breaking up with him. In ten years, I've reared countless batches of piglets and watched them grow into full-fledged pigs. Alas, I can never warm Frankie's heart up with my love. Now, I choose to abandon him and the piglets I'm forced to rear.

After seven years of marriage, my wife had rarely asked me to accompany her back to her parents' home. She always said she didn't want me stepping into that cramped, crowded little house and feeling wronged. This year, during the New Year, I happened to be in the city where my in-laws lived for a business trip. By chance, I came across a local video online. It was posted by a resident of an upscale neighborhood. "Mom, Dad, my beloved wife and son—thank you for giving an orphan like me a complete and happy life." The elderly couple in the video were dressed in the same high-end outfits I had bought for my in-laws. I thought of how frugal they had always been, how they lived simply and spared every penny. A decision formed in my mind: tomorrow, I would buy them a place in that very neighborhood, in their name, so they could enjoy a comfortable retirement. It would be my small act of filial piety. But the next day, the moment I stepped into the residential complex, I saw my in-laws coming downstairs—with my wife and a child. Could it be that my wife had secretly bought them an apartment? I pressed my lips together, about to step forward, when a man rushed over and caught my father-in-law just as he nearly stumbled. "Dad, careful now." My footsteps froze. My wife was an only child. I had never heard of any foster relatives. He called my father-in-law "Dad." Then… who was I?