Beauty And The Freak

I send my sister, Lola Graham, to my couture boutique to pick out a wedding dress. As she is leaving, a trainee clerk, Kayla Larson, demands three million for the gown. Helpless, Lola says my name. "I'm the owner's sister. I don't have to pay." Kayla rolls her eyes. "You're pranking the wrong store. Our boss doesn't have a sister. You're just broke and trying to scam us!" she snapped, blocking my sister's way. "This is your last warning—either pay up, or I'll rip that dress off you and throw you out!" Stunned, Lola calls me. When I rush over, I hear my long-time store manager standing deferentially behind Kayla, warning Lola, "You'd better behave. The woman in front of you is our boss' wife. Cross her, and you'll regret it." "Trying to fake your way in here? You've got some nerve," Kayla sneers, adding to my sister's humiliation. My hand freezes on the door. Without hesitation, I cut off my husband's secondary credit card and call him. "Have I been too generous with you? Or did giving you too much money make you think you could afford another woman behind my back?"

The moment they released the year-end audit notice, I just stared in disbelief at the mention of my car, which I had paid for in full and in cash. It was boldly listed under the company’s fixed assets. “Our company practices a ‘family-friendly’ culture. What’s yours is the company’s. We’re a family. There’s no need to get picky about what’s yours or mine.” As if that was not enough, the company fired the driver and handed the chauffeuring duty to me. “Here’s the reception schedule for this month. Also, please pick up my dad at Babolle at 3 a.m. tonight.” My expression had darkened. Nonetheless, the human resources manager continued, “In a family, there’s no ‘yours’ or ‘mine’. My dad is your dad, right?” I was so furious that I almost exploded. ​ “I’m taking my car back, then!” She immediately took out a loan contract. “Simple. Pay by instalments. Work here for three years and you can ‘buy’ back your car.” So not only did I have to work as a driver for free, but I also had to pay to reclaim my car. Ever since the human resources manager parachuted in, she cut perks and cancelled vacations. She even started to dig into my wallet! “I quit!” She sneered. Then, she brandished a thick employee handbook. “Clause 1867 states that an employee who resigns of their own accord will need to pay double their salary. You’re under a six-month probation starting from now. Pass it, then you can leave.”

When my four sons were finally old enough for preschool, I arrived at the school office with my marriage certificate and their birth certificates, ready to sign them up. But the lady at the counter frowned and said, "These documents don't check out. According to the system, your kids don't even exist." I felt as if the floor had dropped out from under me. I remembered when Sheldon Clem and I got married—he was the one who handled all the paperwork, the birth registrations, everything. I never imagined that when I tracked him down with our four boys, he'd be holding his childhood sweetheart in his arms, with her little girl snuggled against him. And then we heard him sweet-talking her right in front of us. "Don't be mad, babe. I've got everything set up for us overseas. Gigi is going to the most expensive private school, and you'll be living in the nicest penthouse downtown. "Sure, she gave me four sons, but all my love and money are with you. I only kept her around because I felt sorry for her. "What else do you need? My will's already signed. Everything goes to you and Gigi." Riley Anderson pouted, smug and satisfied. "If you don't love her, then she's the other woman, not me. She's got no right to fight me for anything!" So he never went bankrupt. When we got back home, Sheldon acted as if nothing had happened. "Honey, I've found this amazing project overseas, so I won't have time to come home much. I'll need you to hold down the fort at home." I smiled and nodded. "Sure, go ahead." If that was how he wanted to play this, then fine. I'd make sure he really went broke, and then I'd find my boys a new father.

I am in such a rush to pick up my daughter, Ava Pennington, from school that I don't have time to change out of my work attire. At the kindergarten gates, I run into the mother of one of her classmates, Candice Austin. She sizes me up from head to toe and says, "You must be Ava Pennington's mom." I politely nod. Just as I am about to say hello, her expression suddenly sours. "It's no wonder your daughter dresses so skimpily at school. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, does it?" I am so mad that I nearly forgot to respond. "What nonsense are you talking about?" Candice clicks her tongue and grows even more aggressive. "Nonsense? Your daughter wears skirts to school every day. She's distracting my son so much that his grades have slipped." Her words leave me utterly speechless. How is her son's failing grades somehow Ava's fault? When I don't respond, she gets bolder. "Look at you dressed from head to toe in cheap junk; how can you afford to send your daughter to this elite kindergarten? You must have pulled some shady strings to sneak her in through the back door, didn't you?" Has she lost her mind? Since when does Ava need strings to attend the school I built?

My car was passing by the entrance of the office when I saw both my sisters 'wrestling' vigorously with a bum. I wasn't surprised, however, even recording a video of it and sending it to the biggest news outlet of the country, saying, "I want it seen across the world before 7pm." After all, in my last life, those two sisters were so keen to please Harold Langford that they allowed him to steal my birthright all he wanted. I bore with it because they were family, and ended up resting in pieces. But now that I had a second chance, I would return the favor. At the company gala, Harold once again took my seat as he snorted at me haughtily. "Hmph! If Ellie and Jennie didn't insist on showing you how the world works, a poor college student like you wouldn't even make it through the front door!" "Know your place and don't cause me trouble, or they will have you beaten to a pulp!" Seeing that he was still running his mouth, I kicked him three feet away as I chuckled. "Who do you think you are? How dare you strut when you're just a gigolo who only knows how to please hags!"

Dominic Langdon, a gang boss, is about to host his birthday banquet soon. He specifically tells everyone that he wants bluefin tuna and premium abalone as the grandest dish in his banquet. That seafood comes to a total of 80 thousand dollars. But my uncle, Steve Cutterson, gives me 800 dollars and tells me to carry out the task. I head toward the garbage dump of the farmers' market immediately. Soon, I return with a cartload of canned sardines and crayfish. After calculating the transportation costs, it comes to a total of 800 dollars. When the cheap-looking seafood is served, Dominic is so pissed that he flips the table on the spot. "How dare you pocket my money! You must have a death wish!" Steve quickly makes me the scapegoat. "Mr. Langdon, Caleb is the one who bought the seafood! He must have embezzled your money! Caleb, you'd better grovel to Mr. Langdon and pay him back right now!" I just show everyone the magnified version of the transfer record of 800 dollars with a stony expression. "Take a good look, Uncle Steve. Do you really think you can afford bluefin tuna with just 800 dollars? Did Mr. Langdon give you the money purely out of charity purposes?"

I just closed a deal worth 50 million. The room did its job, so I went to the reception to check out, and I got myself a bottle of water worth 2 dollars. That very same day, I got an email from the company accusing me of misusing company funds. They canceled three months' worth of KPI from my records and fined me 5,000 dollars. I ignored that, thinking that it was a mistake some new guy in finance made. When I went to work the next day, my access card was denied. It was canceled. I couldn't even get into the building. Furious, I called my CEO fiance, but his secretary took the call instead. "How many times do I have to tell you to follow the rules when it comes to money? Did you tell finance about that bottle of water? No? Then that's against the rules! Everyone else follows the rules, so why can't you? You're a veteran!" The CEO chimed in, "Christina, you're a veteran of the company. You must be an example. You're not allowed back to work until you finish your 8000-word reflection and read it out loud at the all-employee meeting!" They tossed the phone aside, and a moment later, moans of delight and passion traveled through the air. Stone-faced, I hung up and called our competitor's CEO. "I've got a 50-million-dollar deal and a sales manager who just got fired for you. Are you taking that deal?"

On our wedding night, my fiancé's best friend barged into our room for the third time, claiming a wedding prank. Having had enough, I warned Sam Whitman that if we didn't consummate our marriage that night, it was as good as over. He glanced at my half-unbuttoned dress and dismissed my words as a tantrum. Then Candace Lombard stormed in for the ninth time, ripped off the covers, and livestreamed our intimate moments. Sam merely pushed me aside and told me to be understanding. She climbed into our bed, smirking as she claimed the spot between us. "Wedding night prank? I get it," I grinned, leaning into her livestream camera. "Alright, everyone, fire up those donations! I'm about to let my husband take a mistress live. Let's make it a show!"

The butler's son took my secondary credit card and burned through my money so he could play the part of a trust-fund prince everyone envied. He made me, his employer's real daughter, bring him lunch every day and run errands for him. In front of his classmates, he smeared me as his family's servant and a desperate girl chasing after him. He even stole my family's heirloom jewelry to impress the campus belle. I finally hit my limit. I decided to give him a lump sum and cut ties completely, treating it as payment for the life-saving favor he once gave me. But after I brought it up, he and his father poisoned my family's food and seized every bit of our property for themselves. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in my college classroom. Facing the butler's son, who was still flashing the wealth he stole from me, I took his card and cut it in half. "If you keep pretending like this, your butler dad's salary won't cover the act."

My wife is the daughter of a top jewelry tycoon. She accused me of pushing her mother down the stairs to steal the family fortune and had me thrown in prison. While I was locked up, her people disfigured my face and crushed my hands—the same hands that once played the piano. After my release, I run from her like a madman. Just like she said I would, I give up and start mooching off a wealthy woman. But then, she clings to me and begs me not to leave.