Emotional

My wife, Vivian Lane, is the wealthiest woman. Her assistant had made it clear he had three "do-not-disturb" rules: no messages after work, no calls on weekends, and absolutely no contact when he was in a bad mood. Because of this, the company lost a major deal—one worth over a hundred million. Yet the assistant looked completely unbothered. "Sorry, I had no idea one phone call could make such a difference. If something goes wrong and I have to be the one to take the blame, fine—I'm just another cog in the machine." My wife snapped, "Who said anything about blaming you? You did exactly what you were told." She shot me a look of pure irritation. "You take the profits from the project, and when things fall apart, you dump it on the regular employees? Is that how you run a business? If your company folds over something this small, it just proves you're not fit to be in charge." It suddenly clicked, and I let out a quiet laugh. So she thought this project belonged to my company? I didn't bother correcting her. To be honest, I couldn't really hold it against her—after all, it wasn't my company going under.

After I help my boyfriend register his company and successfully land his first deal, he finally decides to make our relationship public. But his junior from college, who's always had this weird hostility toward me for no reason, beats me to it by sliding into the seat next to him. She leans against my boyfriend's chest, her voice smug and satisfied. "Didn't you say you'd wait until the company officially launched? So why the rush now?" My boyfriend says nothing. Instead, he hands her a share certificate and announces to the entire room that she's the company's largest shareholder. The room explodes. Everyone starts whistling and cheering them on. The junior takes the opportunity to kick me while I'm down, throwing insults my way. My boyfriend doesn't just fail to stop her. He actually joins in with his own snide remarks. "Sure, you helped me set up the company and brought in our first client, but she's the one who can actually take us somewhere." I don't get angry. I graciously acknowledge the junior's new position. I want to see how far they would get without me, their biggest asset and most valuable connection.

On my birthday, my adopted sister, Sophia Norris, frames me for soiling her dress and causing her to not be able to attend the banquet. My older brothers, Gerald and Gary Moore, immediately demand that I give my gown to Sophia. Otherwise, they will cancel the birthday banquet. Furious, I point at them while screaming, "I didn't ruin her dress at all! She was the one who splashed red wine onto it! "Also, I will never give my gown to her! My best friend designed it for me!" As soon as my words fall, Gerald commands the bodyguards to tear the gown from my body. At the same time, Gary picks up a wine glass and dumps red wine onto my face. "It's bad enough that you constantly bully Sophia! Today, her crush, Zachary Green, will be attending the banquet too! Do you have any idea how long she has prepared for this day to come?" Gerald adds, "A vile woman like you doesn't have the right to be born, let alone celebrate your birthday!" After that, a few bodyguards drag me into the basement. Immediately, pitch-black darkness swallows me. I have severe asthma. Breathing becomes insanely difficult for me as seconds tick by. I keep screaming loudly and calling for help, but all I hear is laughter coming from the banquet upstairs. It isn't until the banquet is well underway that Gerald and Gary remember that I exist. But I've already died in the cramped basement.

On the first day Thea Storme is accepted back to her wealthy family, she signs a betting contract with the fake heiress, Clara Storme. The contract states that if Clara is able to steal from Thea nine times in a row, Thea will have to leave the Storme family on her own. Thea agrees to the bet. On the ninth time, Clara has her eye on Thea's boyfriend, who's a low-income student. She gives him two million dollars and demands that he marry into her family as a live-in son-in-law. "You want me to marry into your family? Sure." Thea raises her head in disbelief. Leonard Falkner taps a finger on the bank card. The moment he meets Thea's gaze of despair, he flashes her a comforting smile. "But I will marry into your family as Thea's husband. I might be poor, but I still have my pride. Except for the woman I love most, I won't lower my head for anyone in this world." That day, Clara cries as she runs out of the house. She even agrees to marry into the Larkin family out of spite. Leonard remains unmoved. He just watches Clara making a fool of herself coldly. But that night, Thea overhears something…

A hacker has stolen the encryption keys and hacked through the data firewall at the bank my fiancee, Nancy Cost, and I work at. Chester Gardner, the intern Nancy has hired, insists on using a program he made to track down the hacker. But in doing so, the bank's clients lost 200 billion dollars' worth of assets. I do everything in my power to put the system on emergency maintenance so that I can retrieve the lost assets. Chester ends up getting punished by the bank. He also gets blacklisted by the entire industry. Nancy tries to plead for him, only to be stopped by me. "Pleading for Chester is equivalent to committing career suicide! You won't be able to stay in the finance industry if you do that!" Unable to withstand the torment any longer, Chester chooses to jump off the building. Before he dies, he sends Nancy an accusatory text for not defending him. But Nancy doesn't care about the text at all. Instead, she showers me with more care and love. We end up getting married. I do everything I can to elevate Nancy to the position of a finance powerhouse as her core technical support. But the day she attains her status is the day she frames me for hacking into the bank's system and stealing hundreds of millions' worth of assets. As a result, I get thrown behind bars and tortured till I die. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Chester presents the self-made program to track down the lost assets. This time, I choose to sit by and watch. What they don't know is that the richest man in Cantfield, Felix Watch, is the one who has lost his assets. Those who made him lose money in the past are all rotting in hell now.

On the day of my wedding gown fitting, a stranger burst into the VIP suite and stabbed me with a knife. “You think you deserve a dress this expensive after stealing someone else’s man?” She tore at the delicate fabric of my skirt. Then, with a twisted smile, she hurled a bottle of acid at me. The blade was buried in my lower abdomen. The pain drove me to my knees. She grabbed my hair and yanked my head up. “Gerald’s my husband! What are you? You’re nothing but a mistress who can’t even be seen with him in public!” Blood dripped down my fingers. That was when it finally sank in. The man I had been with for seven years had been keeping another woman by his side. “What’re you staring at? Even if I kill you, with my husband’s influence, no one will dare touch me!” Staring at her smug face, I pulled out my phone with hands slicked in blood and called my brother. “Matt…” My voice was unnervingly calm. “Come pick me up at the bridal shop. And please inform the Hoover family that the engagement is off.”

On my birthday, my mother-in-law had barely been wheeled out of surgery when she was rushed straight into the ER again. Then, a newly posted video from an intern went viral. In it, the intern held a scalpel and sliced open my mother-in-law's abdomen, while the surgeon who was supposed to be leading the operation, my husband, was nowhere in sight. 'People say an intern has no business being in the operating room? That's all right. My man, the department head, indulges me.' My husband's coworkers reacted warmly, saying the two of them made quite a pair. I forwarded the video to the hospital director without hesitation. … Before long, my husband called. His breathing came hard and uneven, his voice breaking between words. "I forgot your birthday. Big deal. Did you really have to run to the director and accuse me of breaking hospital rules? I'm done with you and your ridiculous tantrums. Even if my mom takes your side this time, I'm still divorcing you." He hung up before I could say a word. What he didn't know was that his mother would never take my side again. Because the patient who hemorrhaged and died after being operated on by that intern was his mother.

After three years of renting, the landlord kept raising the rent, so I decided not to renew the lease. I hired cleaners to thoroughly clean the entire place, inside and out. There was not a single scratch on the furniture or appliances. I figured the landlord would not return the deposit easily, but I never imagined she would come out swinging with such outrageous demands. “This dining table cost me 25,000 dollars! You got it dirty, and we can’t clean it. You owe me 25,000! “How did this living room lamp get so dusty? Don’t you know how to clean as a girl? We’ll have to deduct 1,500 from your deposit! “There are hooks on the wall. You damaged my walls! 2,000 for that! “This mattress... Hmph. You live-streamers probably brought home who knows how many men. This one’s ruined anyway. There goes 15,000! “Why are there strands of hair in the bathroom? How am I supposed to rent this out to the next tenant? Five hundred for cleaning fees!” She tapped away at her calculator, then thrust it in my face. “You’ve lived here for three years. I’ll give you a friend’s discount. I won’t charge extra for the other damages. Pay me 50,000 dollars, and we’ll call it even! “Otherwise, I’ll expose you online and make you lose followers!” I glanced at the live stream that had 50,000 viewers at the time. When I looked up again, my face was only a mask of smiles. “Ms. Lane, let me think about it. I’ll give you an answer in two days.”

To save up for my wife’s expensive asthma medication, I worked the dangerous high-rise job around our apartment complex, even on a day with winds strong enough to knock someone off their feet. However, that was when I accidentally witnessed my wife cheating on me with her ex-boyfriend, and to entertain him, she picked up a fruit knife and slowly cut through my safety rope. My body slammed into the ground so hard that the impact shattered the bones in my leg. Only later did I learn the truth: the one with asthma wasn’t my wife at all—it was her first love. All the money I’d been saving for her? She had been giving him every cent. Eventually, the same cold, proud woman I once married ended up on her knees in front of me, begging for help. I called the building security over and had them drag her out. “Get that filth out of here,” I said. “It’s hurting my eyes.”

In the first year I was brought home, the phony heiress Viola Baker suggested a trip to Gold Island to build a sisterly connection with me. My fiancé, Jeremy Abbott, had joined us to ensure our safety. However, they ended up amassing significant gambling debts at the island's casinos. In a bid to flee, he abandoned me on the island as a hostage, vanishing without a trace alongside Viola. The casino staff restrained me, poised to unleash their wrath upon me. In my frantic struggle, I glimpsed a phone number labeled "Island Owner" on the leader's phone screen. "Could that be the number of my brother, who had cared for me for more than a decade?"