Emotional Depth Synonym Novels & Stories

One week after moving into my new home, my neighbor, Penny Halpern, suddenly knocks on my door and claims that my son, Benedict Geller, has been spying on her daughter, Monica Ritter, when the latter is bathing. "I saw everything with my own eyes! Every day, he'd cling to the windowsill and spy on me when I'm bathing! He even took pictures of me with a camera! "I'm so scared! Who knows what he's doing with those pictures? That boy really is disgusting!" Penny and Monica threaten me to call the police on Benedict if I don't pay them soon. Feeling rather puzzled, I just kick them out of my apartment. Unexpectedly, Penny summons all the neighbors in the residential area over to my place the next day. They all gather outside my door and begin insulting us at the top of their lungs. "Hey, pervert! Get out here and apologize to the victim!" "Take that perverted son of yours and leave this place! We want peace to be returned to our neighborhood!" When I tune the neighbors out, they begin smashing everything they can see at my front door. So, I can only call the police. When the police arrive, I bring Benedict out of the apartment before taking his sunglasses off. "Officer, I'd like to ask just how can my son spy on others, in this case?"

My mother is hospitalized due to a terminal illness. She's in urgent need of a kidney transplant to save her life. I'm the only one who can perform the surgery, but I give the kidney to a stranger. My father and husband get on their knees before me on the day of the surgery. They beg me to save my mother. However, I shrug and say, "I can't do anything about this. A life is a life, regardless of who the person is. This is what she gets for coming late—death is waiting for her."

A young woman showed up at my door, saying she wanted to become my wife to repay me for saving her life. She drove my younger sister out of the house and wanted to transfer the family property to her parasitic parents in my name! I immediately reported her. How could someone be so bold as to commit robbery right at my home in a society governed by law?

While I was seeing patients in my clinic, Ellie Wilson, the most beautiful girl from my college class suddenly rushed in and dropped to her knees in front of me. "My dad has early-stage cancer. Please, you have to save him. I know you're an expert in this field." Out of kindness, I agreed. Then she begged me to front the cost of the surgery, saying her family was poor and she would repay me in installments once she started earning a salary. I agreed again. However, the day before the operation, her father, Sebastian Wilson, died in the hospital room. The police stormed into my office and arrested me on charges of murder. Faced with what they claimed was irrefutable evidence, I couldn’t defend myself. In the end, I was sentenced to death and died in prison. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day Ellie knelt before me in my clinic.

Dad attends a banquet with his ex-girlfriend, and they make headlines. Everyone mocks Mom for this, saying that she hasn't gotten anything out of her relationship with Dad. They make fun of her for giving up her successful career for his sake to end up with nothing—she can't even tell a homewrecker off. Mom looks at me tiredly after bawling her eyes out. "He let me down first, so I don't want him anymore. Do you want to leave with me, Rosie?" Just then, my phone pings. I've received a text from my boyfriend of seven years. "I'm just going through the motions and registering my marriage with someone else, Rosalie. You'll still be my girlfriend!" After a brief silence, I nod and tell Mom I'll leave with her. On the day of the double weddings, Mom and I disappear after a fire at our villa.

I gave my full support when my father decided to set aside $2.1 billion in trust funds for his three illegitimate kids. Things had been very different in my previous life. At the time, the company urgently needed capital for a new project, and I had convinced my father to postpone setting up the trusts. I never imagined the three of them would take it as an attempt to seize the family fortune for myself. Furious, they went street racing to vent their anger. The result was a fatal crash. The car was destroyed, and none of them survived. Under my leadership, the company continued to grow at an astonishing pace and eventually secured a place on the Fortune Global 500 list. Yet on the very day I received the title of Young Entrepreneur of the Year, my father got me drunk and ordered my limbs broken. As I lay there screaming in agony, I demanded to know why he was doing this to me. His reply was filled with venom as he crushed my fingers one after another. "If you hadn't been so greedy for the inheritance, Ethan and the others wouldn't have gone out to clear their heads. They never would have died in that crash." In the end, my father beat me to death. When my critically ill mother learned the truth, the shock took her life as well. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day my father decided to establish the trust.

I help my students gain admission to top state art academies, yet my boss, Sebastian Emerson, withholds every cent of the pay I earned from 24 consecutive days of overtime. When I confront him in anger, he accuses me of stealing 120 thousand dollars in training fees from the students. "Honestly, being poor is no excuse for being shady. And having disabled parents doesn't give you the right to steal. "You've got two days to pay it back! Otherwise, I'll make sure you spend a few nights in jail, and I'll even inform your parents!" When a student calls, he snatches the phone and starts screaming, "There's no money! All your tuition went into buying your art supplies! If you've got a problem, go ahead and sue me, brat!" Meanwhile, Jayla Buckley, who is curled up in his arms, keeps placing order after order of Chaennal haute couture without the slightest hesitation. Watching the two of them colluding so shamelessly, I grip my attorney license in my pocket until my knuckles ache. Take it to court? Litigation? That's my arena. And I'll make sure both of them end up exactly where they belong—behind bars.

I die in the basement after being burned by acid. My family doesn't recognize me, and they don't call the cops. My mother picks up the scalpel that hasn't been used in years and debones me. My father excitedly mixes my skeleton with concrete and turns me into an exquisite statue. My sister uses the sculpture she's made out of my flesh and portrays herself as a genius sculptor whom everyone admires. Later, the sculpture is shattered, revealing half a broken finger inside. That's when everyone panics.

Mom is diagnosed with a benign fibroid during her check-up, but somehow, she ends up getting her entire uterus removed, leading to her getting an infection and dying from it. With the surgical records in hand, I decide to sue the doctor for malpractice. But my wife, Anastasia Ziegler, who's also the director of the hospital, personally steps in to vouch for him. Enraged, I question her why. However, Anastasia just shoves me away coldly. "Your mom was already that old. What use did she have for her uterus? Louis' future is more important! Anyway, I'll waive the hospital bills. You'd better take down the court case, though. Don't embarrass me any further in the hospital." As I gaze at Mom's cold corpse, I can't help but chuckle. It turns out that Anastasia has no idea that her beloved side piece has killed off her actual mom, who had stayed widowed for many years.

On the train back home, I found a scathing post online. [My sister-in-law is pushing thirty but isn’t married yet. She comes home all the time. Would you be bothered by it?] The comments were numerous and ran the gamut of opinions. The post got wildly popular, and there was an argument between the poster and commenters. [It’s bad enough that she won’t get married. She wants to stay with us when she’s home. Shouldn’t she feel ashamed? I’m at the end of my rope. She even drank all my lemonade last time she was here. I really hate her. [She has no boundaries. I’ve been wanting to teach her a lesson for ages. I turned her bedroom into my walk-in closet. Let’s see if she can still stay here.] When I got to this point, I closed the post. It was lucky that I bought the house where my parents and brother live. Because of that, I would not be at risk of losing my own room. But when I got out of the train station, I received a text from my mother. [Sweetie, I booked you a hotel room. You don’t have to come home and stay this time.]