Anonymous Diaries

To save his illegitimate son, who suffered from kidney failure, Lucas Cadell had his five-year-old daughter go through the kidney removal surgery without telling his wife. Upon finding out what happened, Cassiopeia Hepburn sped to the hospital. By the time she got there, the red indicator light above the operating room was already switched on. Her eyes were bloodshot as she desperately pounded the door and cried out, "Stop! I'm the mother! I do not consent to having her kidney removed!" Lucas stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her to restrict her. His voice was filled with remorse as he spoke, "I'm sorry, Cassie, but Liam is going to die from kidney failure if I don’t do anything to save him. The only solution is to have Anya donate her kidney to him." Cassiopeia stared at the man she had loved for many years in disbelief. The man she was once so obsessed with seemed to have turned into a stranger.

At Sullivan Group's annual banquet, a female university student approaches Peter Sullivan and offers herself to him. The usually cold and distant Peter suddenly freezes because this young woman looks exactly like his deceased first love. He can't help but tease, "You're asking to be my mistress in front of my wife. Are you so sure you won't be thrown out?" The young lady lifts her chin, and her stubborn expression is identical to that of his lost love. "You two got married for business reasons and mutual benefits. Does she have any say over what you do? Peter, only you can save my mom. Will you do it or not?" She's right. I'm just a pawn in a marriage of convenience. How could I possibly influence Peter's choices? But then, I catch a glint of tenderness in his eyes that I've never seen before, and a self-deprecating smile forms on my lips. Maybe, instead of clinging on and being thrown out like trash, it's better if I give up my place willingly.

The fifth year of my husband's affair, the system that had gone silent finally reappeared, telling me that I could go home. In the final week, I stopped arguing with him. I allowed him to go out with other women and stay out all night, and let him give away the things that I treasured the most to someone else. The day I was meant to leave was our fifth wedding anniversary. He burst into the house with Ivy, knocking over the food I'd prepared and pointing a shard of broken glass at me as he pinned me down by the neck. In a fit of rage, he questioned why I hurt Ivy and the baby she was carrying. "Since when did you become this cruel? You make me sick!" I smiled, not bothering to defend myself. "I did it all, and I really am that cruel. What, did you only realize that now? "Anyway, I wish you two a long, happy life together." As he stared me down, I viciously stabbed the artery in my neck, and my life in this world was finally over.

This was the sixth time Dante Falcone had slammed that damned divorce agreement down in front of me, forcing me to sign. This time, I did not resist. He set down the pen. In that instant, a suffocating silence filled the room. His deep brown eyes locked onto me, sharp and probing, as if he were trying to see straight through my soul. "Why so obedient this time, Sofia? Or are you planning another trick? Don't forget who you are. Mrs. Falcone." I removed the ruby ring that symbolized the mistress of the family, the one he had placed on my finger when he proposed to me in Sicily. I set it gently on the desk, a surface stained with both blood and money. My voice was calm, lifeless. "No, Dante. I'm just... tired. Your world is too loud."

On our eighth anniversary, Claire Young announced that she had already registered her marriage with her childhood friend. She took him home, ordering me around as if it was only natural. "Move to another room. Stan loves sunshine." "Stan doesn't like sweets, so don't bake any when you're at home. He'd be upset if he saw it." I kept quiet through it all and bought a ticket to leave. My friend wanted to help me out of the predicament, but she didn't think it was a big deal. "He's just being dramatic again. Let him be—he'd be caving in just a few days." Everyone laughed at that, and quietly made bets as to when I'd come crawling back to Claire's feet. None of them knew I was already inducted into the national weapons program, and that I was really leaving.

"Miss Hudson, we have prepared a corpse identical to you, just as you requested. It will be delivered to your wedding with Mr. Warhol in ten days." Hearing the voice on the other end of the line, Violet Hudson felt a small knot of tension unwind inside her. "Alright. Thank you." "You're welcome. This is our job. Please rest assured—no one will ever suspect a thing." With that guarantee, she exhaled, the weight on her chest easing just a little. After confirming the final details once more, she ended the call and pushed open the door to the private room. The noise inside had been a constant hum, a mix of voices overlapping, but the moment she stepped in, silence fell like a curtain.

When the SAT scores are out, I've scored 400 out of 1600. That's because I never wrote anything on my exam papers. My mom goes crazy, whereas my younger sister, Melinda Bolton, bursts into tears. But I just laugh at them instead. In my previous life, Melinda had formed a pact with the score-swapping system. That was how she swapped our SAT scores. She became the top scorer that all prestigious universities fought to recruit. I, the valedictorian of my year, not only got into a trade school, but I also got expelled from my previous high school. Melinda had the gall to comfort me. "Didn't you call yourself a genius, Melissa? Trade schools are very popular right now. In the future, you'll secure a job at a factory out there!" In this life, I spend my exam hours sleeping in my seat the whole time. Melinda wants to swap her scores, right? Then, let's do it properly!

On our fifth wedding anniversary, Jacob Carter once again abandons me for his so-called first love, Wendy Miller. "Wendy's raising a child on her own. It's not easy for her. Can't you be a little more understanding? You're also a woman, aren't you?" Jacob said. In my previous life, that argument turned into a nightmare. He locked me in the house, and when a fire broke out, I was burned to death. After being reborn, I don't just give them my blessing. I pack my bags, walk out on my own terms, and apply to study architecture overseas. And now? Jacob's the one falling apart—crying and begging me not to go.

When I hear my boyfriend, Terence Bowen, is trapped in a house fire, I immediately rush back to save him. However, after dragging him out with all my strength, I realize it's just a dummy. Laughter erupts from the house next door. "Ariana Brock is such a fool! She fell for it again!" Through a half-open window, I spot Terence lounging on the couch, casually scrolling through his phone. He looks completely fine. "That's the 47th prank we've pulled on her. Three more to go and we're done." "Serves her right. She shouldn't have stolen Bethany Howard's scholarship. Bethany is the one Terence actually cares about. That's why he decided to fake a relationship with Ariana to get revenge 50 times over. Too bad the game will end soon." I bend over, gasping for air. All this time, the relationship I've worked so hard to protect is nothing but a game to them.

On our fifth wedding anniversary, my wife left me for the man she could never forget. "Winston's raising a child on his own. You know that being a single father isn't easy. Besides, you're both men, can't you cut him some slack?" Not only was I willing to "cut him some slack," but I was also willing to step aside completely. I was willing to be the bigger man so the two of them could raise that child together. I packed my things and left, taking the initiative to apply for an overseas program in architecture. To my confusion, she came running to me, crying and begging me not to go. Still, it was too little, too late.