Doctors

"Mom, I don't get what's happening? Wedding?" "But darling, you already accepted the St Daniels' offer," Melissa said sweetly to her daughter. "I didn't know what I was accepting," Mari protested. "She pleaded with me to help her son Raymond." "Of course, honey, you're helping Raymond by marrying him," Melissa said. Her tone is filled with sweetness, trying to damp her daughter's fury. "And besides, this arrangement is crucial to your father. Tell her, Cullman, she needs to know." Mari's gaze shifted to her father, her eyes narrowing. "Catherine, my businesses are crashing and I'm on the brink of bankruptcy," her father admitted. "I couldn't bear the thought of my competitors gloating over my downfall. I had to strike a deal with the St Daniels. They were looking for a suitable bride for their eldest son, and...I'm afraid you're the price I had to pay, Catherine." Mari sighed, her mind still reeling in confusion. "But Raymond St Daniels is still in a coma, how is it possible for me to marry him?" Both parents exchanged a secret glance. Her mother was the one that spoke up. "Raymond St Daniels has awaken from his coma. But the doctors said he'll be crippled for the rest of his life."

I gave birth prematurely, just twenty days before the due date. Two hours after I entered the surgery room, I had a stillborn baby. I did not cry at all. I did not even spare a glance at the dead baby. I endured the pain from childbirth and calmly walked into the hospital nursery. After the door was tightly shut, I turned down the temperature of the air-conditioning. The temperature inside the nursery would be too cold for newborns to bear after an hour. The doctors and parents were begging me on their knees to let their babies live. They screamed and cried. They said I was a mother and hoped that I would understand. Instead, I laughed and said, “Yes, I was a mother. But my baby died!” The gynecologist knelt on the floor and begged, “We may be at fault for not being able to save your baby, but these babies are innocent! “Please don’t be reckless just because you lost your baby! You’re so young. You’ll have more babies in the future.” I gritted my teeth and roared, “But my baby isn’t dead! “She’s still alive. I’ll give you one hour. Bring her back to me!” But I was unsure if she would still be alive after an hour.

My boyfriend's childhood sweetheart bound herself to a transfer system: everything she ate would be redirected straight into my stomach. She opened a streaming account and broadcast herself eating for twelve hours straight. She earned a fortune. Meanwhile, I collapsed with acute pancreatitis and was rushed to the hospital. When I explained the situation to my boyfriend, he only stared at me like I was insane. "How could something that absurd exist? If food could really be transferred, no one in the world would ever starve. You're just jealous that she's making money from streaming." After that, every time his childhood sweetheart went live, I ended up hospitalized again. I kept hovering between life and death. I sought medical help, but the doctors couldn't explain my condition. Some even wanted to commit me to a psychiatric ward. Then, one day, in order to outdo her rivals in a PK match, she devoured ten pounds of rice in a single sitting. At that very moment, my spleen and stomach ruptured, and I bled to death on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day of her very first livestream. This time, I was prepared. I rushed out and bought twenty takeout meals. "This time," I said, "I'll eat first."

As the youngest daughter of the powerful mafia family, the Blythes, I was spoiled the moment I was born. I had three older brothers who adored me. When I turned eighteen, our father was killed in a turf fight. The shock sent our mother into a rapid decline, and she passed away less than a week later. To avenge our father, my three brothers waged war against our enemies for three days. Though they emerged victorious, all three were critically wounded. My eldest brother, Damon Blythe, suffered a ruptured liver and was on the brink of death. Matt Blythe, my second brother, had severe kidney damage. Chris Blythe had lost too much blood and went into heart failure. I spent a fortune hiring the world’s top surgeons. They transplanted half of my liver to Damon, a kidney to Matt, and even gave my heart to Chris, replacing mine with a mechanical one. Thanks to the doctors’ skill, all three survived and went on to take over the Blythes’ empire. Five years later, they became infatuated with Sophia Foster, a poor but strong-willed intern. They even forced me to give up my last kidney to her. It was only after I had died on the operating table that they regretted what they had done.

Have you seen anyone die in front of you? No? Well, I have, more times than I can count. I seem to have a morbid attraction to . Maybe it's like a superpower or maybe it’s a curse. Particularly the Crimson curse, as I like to call it. You would think that doesn't affect me anymore. You are right to think that because that is what I had thought until a week ago. I guess seeing your parents get murdered in front of your eyes and seeing their blood and life slowly drain out of their body isn't the same as seeing your neighbour die from a heart attack when you were 9.One more thing you should know about me is that I can make you sleep with one touch. My parents both were doctors and put their abilities to best use. My father could heal everyone other than himself and my mother like myself could drop a person to sleep with just one stroke of the hand.Now I am off to Aliam academy for mastering my supernatural ability, apparently for which my mother enrolled me before dyeing. Well, looking at the bright side, there is one boy with violet-blue eyes and curly black hair and I am falling head over heels for him.

I was three months pregnant when my fiancé left me to marry his first love, Isabella Thompson. Soon after, I was in a car accident. I survived, but our baby didn't. My childhood friend, Daniel Smith, found out and insisted on marrying me despite his family's objections. He spent a fortune on the best doctors to ensure I recovered fully. Later, he arranged a grand proposal, confessing he had loved me for years. I was touched and agreed to marry him. But three years later, I overheard his conversation with his friend, Mike Perez. "Remember years ago when Isabella stole Jessica's fiancé? To avoid any future trouble for Isabella, you married Jessica and even caused that car accident, which killed the baby she was carrying. Now, can she even get pregnant anymore?" Mike asked. "No, I love Isabella," Daniel replied. "I just didn't want to have any babies with Jessica, so I put birth control in her water." I trembled, unable to believe what I had heard. It turned out Isabella was also Daniel's first love. I figured it was time for me to leave.

After I was falsely accused of being a third wheel by a fake heiress, she hired a group of people to corner me in the delivery room under the pretense of giving me an intervention. "How dare you, a shameless mistress, hope to secure a place with your child!" "Today, I'm going to make sure that b*stard in your belly is gone for good. Let's see if you dare get into my man's bed again." The group blocked the delivery room door, their faces twisted with malice as they refused to let the doctors deliver my baby. I begged them to let me go, but they only laughed cruelly and forced me down in front of a camera while I struggled through labor. They forcefully pulled the baby out of my belly and killed him right in front of me. I clung to my child's lifeless body, sobbing hysterically, while they posted my miserable state online with the caption, 'This is what happens to mistresses.' Later, I exposed her fake heiress status and revealed the dirty secrets of her and those people who were allegedly giving me an intervention online. Relentlessly attacked by netizens until she had nowhere left to turn, she ended up begging me for forgiveness. I pointed to the edge of the rooftop and said, "Jump, and I'll forgive you."

I used to think my husband was the angel who saved me from the depths of hell. Five years ago, I would have died for my ex-fiance, Marco Lombardi, but his carelessness caused Mom's kidneys to fail. He ignored 99 of my calls, and with an empty bank account, I couldn't even afford the surgery to donate my kidney to her. Only later did I discover that during that time, he was having romantic getaways with my stepsister, Penny Rossi. When I hit rock bottom, mafia Don Leon Costa showed up. He got me the best doctors, handled everything when Mom died, and even proposed to me when I was a complete mess. In our five years of marriage, he has spoiled me rotten. I've almost forgotten how much Marco and Penny hurt me. Then, today, I overhear his phone call with Penny. "Leon, thank you for giving my sister's kidney to my mother back then." My beloved husband just brushes it off. "Don't worry about it. I'll look after your sister. She won't ever know." He laughs quietly, and his voice is full of warmth. "You know I hate seeing you cry."

Mitzie Damos had always considered herself to be just another average woman. She came from what would be considered an average middle-class family with a father who was now retired from construction work, and a mother who was a now retired schoolteacher. Even though most would consider her spoiled by her parents, she maintained an honor roll student status from elementary through high school and held a high GPA in college. She was not so good to where she qualified as Valedictorian or any of that other genius student stuff, but she made her parents proud. Mitzie was an only child due to the loss of her twin during her mother's pregnancy. She'd heard her mother recount of how she had a very rare and rough pregnancy. Mitzie's twin just was not strong enough to maintain sharing their mother's womb. Doctors had believed that Mitzie had somehow absorbed her twin and amniotic sac, but when and how that occurred was a mystery. In her mother's first trimester there were 2 fetal heartbeats and 2 fetuses, but by the second trimester, there was one heartbeat and one fetus. It had remained a scientific enigma throughout Mitzie's 28 years of life. Mitzie had a successful career of her own. She married well, a CEO for one of the biggest corporate umbrella companies in the world, and life seemed to be grand. Until Mitzie's pregnancy revealed things about her life that would change it forever.

My girlfriend Chloe Bennett's childhood buddy, Daniel Miller, binds himself to a transfer system. Everything he eats gets sent straight into my stomach. He creates a live stream channel and eats nonstop for 12 hours a day to rake in money. Meanwhile, I end up in the ER with acute pancreatitis. I try to explain everything to Chloe, but she just looks at me like I've lost my mind. "How could something that ridiculous exist? If food could magically transfer, nobody would starve in the world. You're just jealous he's making money from streaming." Afterward, Daniel's every live stream triggers another pancreatitis episode, sending me back to the ER until I'm barely holding on. I get tested, but the doctors can't figure out what's wrong. They even want to admit me to psych. Later, in a desperate bid to outdo another streamer, Daniel downs ten pounds of mashed potatoes at once. The overload destroys my spleen and stomach, causing massive internal bleeding that kills me. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day of Daniel's very first live stream. This time, I rush out and order 20 takeout dishes before him. "This time, I'm eating first."