Counter Yin

I get sent away to the countryside because my parents fear that I'll use my privileged background to lord over others. In turn, they're taking in Tina from that family to the city for her upbringing and schooling. In the countryside, I get up at 4:00 am daily to feed the pigs, then it's a grueling three-hour trek through the mountains to school. I'm also barely surviving due to constant malnutrition. I reach out to my parents for a mere 300 dollars for tuition, only for them to accuse me of spending recklessly. In the meantime, they're donating an entire building just to secure a spot for Tina at her preferred school. I finally make it into Tina's high school and earn a guaranteed university admission spot, only for my parents to order me to hand it over to her as they unleash their fury on me, yelling, "You're clearly bad to the bone, always trying to take things that belong to Tina." "Tina almost gave up on life because of what you did. You're indebted to her for the rest of your life." They, using their parental rights, forfeit my guaranteed university admission spot to fulfill Tina's wish. They then transfer all company shares and real estate to her for her future security, while the whole family makes arrangements to move abroad together. I take in everything before me, no longer feeling hurt. I calmly pack my belongings and walk away from the place where I don't belong.

Two years ago, my entire family boarded a luxury cruise ship for an ocean getaway, only to be ambushed by abductors. My parents and younger brother were all murdered. Meanwhile, I leaped into the sea, fighting for my life. Nigel Heath was the one who saved me from the water. Before my family's bodies were even recovered, my relatives rushed in, trying to seize control of the company. Again, it was Nigel who helped me hold onto everything. He stood by me, supported me, and eventually proposed to me. I agreed with tears in my eyes. Two years have passed since we got married. One day, I catch Nigel fooling around with the housekeeper he's hired for a high sum. "When are you going to make me your wife, Nigel? When can I enter your room without having to sneak around?" He kisses her and laughs. "Running out of patience?" She complains, "Her company's almost yours, so what are you waiting for? Aren't you worried you'll lose everything when she finds out you killed her parents?" He immediately grips her neck tightly, his gaze turning frosty as he growls, "She won't know as long as you keep your mouth shut. Her father killed mine, so I'm going to keep her by my side forever and torment her for life. "I'll give you what you want once she transfers the final patent to me. Step a toe out of line, and you're getting nothing." I stand outside the door as tears silently stream down my face. My husband killed my parents and is even plotting to steal the company they established! The murderer has been by my side this whole time! My parents and brother died so horribly. How can I let Nigel get what he wants?

The laundromat I regularly visit has been showing an odd fluctuation in its price lately. "This coat isn't easy to wash. We're probably the only store that's willing to clean this at a loss. The market price is 55 dollars per item, but I'll give you a discount and only ask for 200 dollars for four items." I look at the boss' mother, who's new at the laundromat. I'm a little pissed. Still, I hand her my membership card without saying anything. This laundromat is opposite my residential area, and they had a promotion during their opening. I topped up ten thousand dollars on the card because I pitied the owner for raising a child alone. Unexpectedly, the owner's mother looks at me and says sarcastically, "That dumb membership card means nothing to me—you have to pay me in cash. You youngsters are too lazy to wash your clothes, yet you're more than willing to use your brains for nonsense like this. My son is too kind to let you take advantage of him like this." I grab my clothes and leave. It's time to use my brain for some nonsense—I think the laundromat should have a new owner.

In my last life, my brother Leo—the heir to the Moretti crime family—stripped our estate bare of every last soldier, all for a Vegas jaunt. All because his new flame, Scarlett, had a jones for the high-roller tables. The Volkovs—our rivals, the very ones Leo had just pissed off—saw their opening and stormed our gates. My mother, Sofia, took a bullet meant for me. Died protecting me. I blew up Leo’s phone, my pleas turning to screams. He didn't answer. He waltzed back in after the shooting stopped, bringing our men home, but far too late for it to matter. Then, the news from Vegas. Scarlett was gone. A suicide note left behind. In it, she painted me as the monster. The one who’d leaked our weaknesses to the Volkovs. The one who'd orchestrated a fake kidnapping and torture plot, all to drive her to despair and lure Leo home. A perfect, tragic lie. Leo read the letter calmly. Then he burned the letter and told me, "Forget it. It's handled." Father tore into Leo for abandoning his post, for leaving his family to die. And me? I was named the new Consigliere. But after the celebration, Leo cornered me in the wine cellar. His face was a mask of cold fury as he pressed the barrel of his gun to my forehead. "This is for family traitors," he hissed, his voice pure venom. "The throne is my birthright, not some backstabbing bitch's prize!" When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Right in the middle of the fire and the blood. This time, I shoved my mother behind me, dragging her toward the panic room. And the bastards who were too blind to believe me? They’ll regret it.

I did not get pregnant in the five years that I was married to Julian Gunter. He claimed that there was something wrong with his body and asked me not to leave him. But one day, I was sent to the hospital because of a stomach ache and continuous bleeding. A nurse came in and gave me an injection. She muttered impatiently, “Can’t you hold yourself back? You’re pregnant, but you had such vigorous love making. It serves you right that you lost your baby.” I endured the pain and walked out. “Mr. Gunter wanted Mrs. Gunter to have a permanent contraceptive injection after her fifth miscarriage. Don’t worry. Mr. Gunter has a way around it.” “The heir of Gunter Group can only be Mr. Jack Gunter.” Jack was the son of Julian’s sister-in-law.

The darkness in his eyes, the dangerous smell of in his breath, and his deathly grip keeping me bound to him made my heart pound in my chest and my body quiver beneath him. Shamefully, it wasn't anything that I wasn't used to, because…the things I let him do to me? When he was frustrated, annoyed, and angry at the world, I was here to be his pound of flesh. In return, he masked the void of my loneliness because for months, that was the transaction of our relationship. He'd pin me to the wall, bend me over the counter, pull my hair, slap me, choke me, and I enjoyed every second of it because in that moment, it finally felt good to be powerless. Irony is a funny thing. I enjoyed being in pain because it made me forget how much I was hurting. *** "I warned you, doll." His voice strikes a string of chills down the base of my spine, a reminder that all of the time in the world could pass, and he's still not letting go. This is where the good girl in me dies. "You're mine now," he whispers. *** My name is Mercy—Mercy Carter. I went to college. Got myself a useless Bachelor of Science in Mathematics degree. His name is Marcel—Marcello Saldívar. However, at the time, I didn't know that he, the heir to the Saldívar Mafia empire, was the man that I had blindly offered myself to. As smart as I am, I was stupid all the times when it actually mattered. After all, he did warn me he was dangerous. I just didn't think he could be much worse than my thug brother. I was vulnerable—naive. I belong to him. My name is Mercy, and I am the Mafia's Mercy.

My husband, Matthew Glover, fabricates a scandal to help his childhood sweetheart, reporter Melanie Reed, boost her numbers. "Mrs. Glover Sleeps Around—Multiple Affairs Lead to Repeated Miscarriages." He uses it as a gimmick to grab attention. Next thing I know, my name's in the mud and the internet's tearing me to pieces. When I bring up divorce, Matthew says I'm blowing things out of proportion. "Melanie just started at the TV station. If she doesn't deliver, her coworkers will laugh at her. You're just doing her a favor. It's not like you're actually losing anything." I don't even bother arguing with him. I simply push the divorce agreement toward him. "If you want to help her, go ahead. But we're getting divorced!"

She coveted everything about me. My possessions, my experiences, and even my men. So one night, my mother pushed me into an older man's bedroom. The next day, she asked with a smug smile, "Nina, how was your night with the older guy?" I rubbed my sore waist, recalling his broad shoulders, long legs, and trim waist from the night before. I smiled as I answered her. "That fiancé of mine is all yours now. Just remember—I’ll be your Aunt-in-law in the future.”

My husband's ex, Sarah Miller, once ditched him to chase a rich guy. When she came back, she was crippled, dragging along two scrawny kids. The day I found out I was pregnant, Jake Carter demanded a divorce. "Sarah is too weak to manage alone, and her kids need someone. I've got to step up," he said. I nodded calmly and went straight to the hospital for an abortion. In my past life, I fought to keep the baby and refused the divorce, even exposing Sarah's dirty secrets to the world. Her reputation was ruined. She became a pariah, and eventually, she took her kids and ended it all. In her blood-soaked suicide note, she blamed me for driving her to despair. Thus, Jake hated me to the core. He hired thugs to assault me, posted the video online, and spread lies that I was a cheater. In the end, he threw me and our child into the sea. As I died, he snarled, "This is what you get for killing Sarah!" When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day he demanded a divorce. This time, I agreed on the spot. Jake was thrilled, dreaming of winning Sarah back. What he didn't know was that, in my past life, I uncovered why Sarah was dumped. Her private life was a mess, and she caught AIDS.

I was chosen to be the fiancée of Lorenzo, the Mafia’s heir. But at a family gala, Lorenzo was openly pursued by Chiara, the daughter of an arms dealer. Chiara wasn’t like the other rule-abiding debutantes. She tore through the streets in a modified sports car, used a military-grade combat knife to cut her cigars, and drank the harshest whiskey neat. There was an untamed wildness about her, a fire Lorenzo couldn't look away from. He complained to the family elders, "How can a woman like that possibly be our Madre and run this entire family?" His words dripped with disdain for her recklessness, yet his eyes were glued to her, tracking her every move as she raised her glass. Then, on Lorenzo’s birthday, he announced his intention to make Chiara his mistress. Chiara refused. "The women of my family are wives, never mistresses. And my husband's heart must belong only to me." Lorenzo came to me, his voice hesitant. "Alessia, it's just a title. I need you to give it to Chiara. Please? She doesn't understand our family's traditions, and she's making a scene about marrying me. We just need to pacify her for now. Even if she marries me, you will still be the one to manage the family's affairs." As I stood trying on my wedding gown, a sharp crystal bead on the bodice pierced my finger. A single drop of blood bloomed against the pure white satin. The dress was ruined, but the wedding would go on. If I couldn't be the wife of the heir, I would become the woman of the Don.