Afton Family Portrait

I've been kidnapped for ten years. When I finally get to go home, I find out that my parents have adopted a new son. In order to prevent me from bullying the adopted heir, Jake Ewing, my parents decide to enroll me in a popular transformation reality show. Every day, I have to compete with the pigs for food and a spot to sleep. Before I go to bed, an instructor will make me recite a hundred times how good my parents and Jake are. If I ever make a mistake, I'll face harsh public punishment in front of the camera. I also have to apologize repeatedly until the director is satisfied with me. Once the reality show is over, I finally transform into the perfect son and brother my family prefers. But on the day the reality show is set to air, I choose to jump off the TV station's rooftop, killing myself once and for all. That's when my parents lose their minds.

When the power meter in the house trips, Mom's foster daughter, Juniper Hawthorne, is trapped in the dark for five minutes. Even though I have claustrophobia, Mom locks me in an empty, pitch-black room. "You knew Juniper was terrified of the dark, yet you intentionally shut off the power just to frighten her! I'll teach you how to behave today!" I cry and beg her not to, but all I receive in return is a harsh slap. "Claustrophobia? That's just what happens when a kid grows up too spoiled." Late that night, I sense someone breaking into the house. The first thing I do is to call Mom, a renowned criminal psychologist, for help, only to be yelled at. "You're still really getting into this role just to fight Juniper for attention, aren't you? "Kidnappers, huh? Well, go ahead and die so you'll stop bothering me!" As she wishes, I'm brutally tortured and killed. My body is buried beneath Mom's favorite flowerbed. After I die, my soul is trapped in the body of a cat. All I can do is helplessly circle Mom until five days have passed. The police arrive with a mangled body and request her help in creating a portrait of the killer.

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…

In my past life, my husband brought our daughter, who was down with a cold, to his father's hospital so she could see a doctor. Later, she was pronounced dead. When I hurried to the hospital after hearing the news, he'd already transferred her organs to his true love's son's body. It was later that I learned my father-in-law was the one who extracted my daughter's organs when her vitals were perfectly fine. I was heartbroken and devastated. I wanted my husband and his family to give me an explanation for this, but he and his parents killed me by poisoning. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the moment my husband has just taken my daughter away.

I'm Sophie Gould, the only daughter of the wealthiest man in Arberton. My mother doesn't like me, though. She treats her niece, Tanya Hall, like her own and allows her to take over my identity. At a banquet where all affluent families are gathered, Tanya takes my seat before I can. Then, she says in a voice loud enough for everyone to hear, "You wouldn't even be here if not for Mom wanting me to show you around so you can expand your horizons, Sophie. "Remember this—you might not be a member of the Gould family, but your actions are linked to us. Don't disgrace us." In the past, I would've stood there with my eyes red, at a loss for what to do. It was too bad I'd been reborn. I smile icily at Tanya and kick her off my throne. "I should've expected this of an impostor. To think an insignificant banquet like this is enough to make you act so obnoxiously! And did you say you're part of the Gould family? You have no idea the sort of trouble you'll be getting yourself into!"

I knew that my father did not like me since I was young. When I wanted to commit suicide to end the pain caused by my illness, he was celebrating another child’s birthday. He hated my mother and me alongside her. So, when I told him that I was sick, he did not believe me. “Is this your new tactic to get money from me?” No one believed that the daughter of the Powell family could die because she was too poor to pay the hospital fees. My father did not believe it either. However, when he saw my dead body, the famous actor who hated his daughter actually went insane.

When I was seven years old, my younger brother went into anaphylactic shock after sneaking a handful of peanuts. Outside the emergency room, my mother slammed my head against the wall over and over, her face twisted with rage. "If you had been watching him like you were supposed to be, this never would have happened! You should be the one with a ruptured stomach, not him!" After that, whenever my brother so much as caught a cold, my mother forced me to eat spoiled leftovers as punishment. I once prepared an elaborate feast. She flipped the entire table and made me crawl on the floor to lick it clean. When I said I wanted to study culinary arts, she poured hot oil over my hands. My father wanted to send me to vocational school to learn a trade, but my mother clutched my brother to her chest and wailed. "She destroyed her brother's health! She owes him a lifetime of service!" When I was fifteen, my brother's gluttony cost my father an important business deal. I took the blame without even being asked, and the furious client forced me to drink more than half a gallon of hard liquor. By the time I was sent home with a bleeding stomach, my father had already scolded my brother. My mother took out her anger on me instead, slapping me so hard my ears rang and my vision went dark at the edges. "You useless thing! You should’ve choked to death at that table! I get sick just looking at you!" I coughed up black blood. From my pocket, I pulled out a piece of sour candy that had gone soft and sticky. It was the only treat my mother had ever given me with a smile, back before my brother's allergic reaction. I put the candy in my mouth and swallowed it down with the taste of stomach acid. The candy was so sour it made my throat burn. Whatever came next, I just hoped I would not have to be my family’s garbage disposal again.

The day I died, the baby in my womb was only five months old. In that final phone call, my father, John Harlow, the godfather of the Harlow family, spoke with a voice as icy as a loaded gun. "A married woman belongs to her husband's family, even in death." When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I had been placed under house arrest. He was circling my college application with a red pen. "Girls who study art are easier to marry off." In front of him, I tore the family's marriage alliance files into pieces. "I'm going to Camford University. I'm studying Computer Science." He sprang to his feet so suddenly that his finger nearly jabbed my face, his sleeve cuff revealing the family crest tattoo. "If you dare defy me, don't ever regard me as godfather." I smiled. "Exactly what I want." Meeting his stunned gaze, I spoke each word deliberately. "The name Harlow. I have long stopped wanting it."

My sister and I were caught up in a severe car accident during a family road trip down the mountain for the New Year. Shattered glass pierced straight through my heart. Amid the excruciating pain, my fiance and family insisted the rescue team take my sister, who only had a scratched arm, to the hospital first. As I cried out for them to save me, my fiance snapped at me. “Carol, you should know when to stop vying for attention! “Delila is bleeding so much. Why must you compete with her?” Dad shook his head and sighed while Mom looked at me with disgust. I forced my stiff neck to look over. They were all surrounding my younger sister. She only sported a faint red mark on her arm. No one saw the blood gushing from my chest. No one heard my fading heartbeat. I died during that snowy, bitterly frigid night. When they finally remembered me and came across my cold body, my fiance and family went mad.

My family was attacked by rogue wolves when we entered their territory. My wolf was gravely injured, and in the end, I was the one who saved everyone.
As I collapsed, exhausted, no one came to me—they all ran to my adopted sister, Fiona, fussing over a few shallow scratches.
By the time pack members carried me to the infirmary, the healer delivered the cruel news: my wolf had been struck by a silver dagger, and the one-month-old pup in my womb wouldn’t survive.
Yet my mate, Luke, had given the only life-saving treatment to Fiona. With no other choice, I refused the healer’s remedies and numbed my wolf’s pain with crude herbs—knowing it would only buy us three days before death.
In those last days, I let everything go. I gave Fiona all my possessions and insurance money while my parents smiled in approval. I signed the bond-severing agreement Luke slid across the table without a second thought. Luke was satisfied, believing I was considerate. Kane, my brother, nodded his head when I told him to give my room to Fiona.
Even my son, Jim, squealed with joy when I asked him to call her “mom.” No one questioned why I gave all my belongings to Fiona, and their approving gazes said it all: “Good. The old Emma is back. But as the clock ticked down, one thought haunted me:
When they find our bodies—my wolf and my unborn pup—will that satisfaction turn to regret?