Emotional Hostage

My dormmate invites me to a college mate's engagement party. I choose an expensive tailor-made gown for the occasion. When I arrive at the hotel, I see several of my former classmates are already there. Everyone looks like they're doing well—they're wearing expensive clothing. Someone is even wearing something from a luxury brand. As soon as I enter the private room, a familiar classmate rolls her eyes at me. "Look at who it is—the woman who was once the most outstanding student in our class. You're dressed so plainly for such an important occasion." Everyone is circled around the classmate who's wearing something from a luxury brand. They ignore me. Only our former class monitor clinks glasses with me and consoles me softly. "It's good enough that you're here. You're dressed plainly, but don't give up. You'll succeed one day." I sip my wine and smile. "My outfit may not be too opulent, but it's an expensive, tailor-made piece. It's 100% handcrafted by a master designer."

The moment my roommate walked in, she used my locker. She claimed to have too many things and nowhere else to put them. I rolled my eyes. Why should I let her get her way? I was not her parent. She was no princess, but she acted like one. I was ready to argue, but she tossed 200,000 dollars at me. “At your service, Your Highness!”

My mother kept a red notebook recording all of my sister's favourite things. She had a blue notebook for me too. When my mother was hospitalized, I took leaves from work to take care of her. My sister had never shown up. However, my mother recorded in the blue notebook, '15th March, I am not well and am hospitalized. Celine owed me 450 dollars for food allowance. I knew that was not a notebook about my favourite things, but a notebook of all of my expenses. Behind the closed doors, Mother said to Father, "Celine is an evil person. She always likes to compete with her sister. We must take a chance to steal all her money and leave with Belle. Later when we are old, we will ask her to take care of us. I think we should just ask her to pay us back all the money we spent on her that I have recorded in this notebook. I was devastated at that moment.

Even before marrying Wayne Cooper, I knew he had a fierce sister-in-law. He would always tell me to never get into a fight with her. After we marry, we spend Christmas Eve at his parents' house for the first time. I'm forced to bustle around in the kitchen as I prepare a feast for over a dozen people. Meanwhile, Wayne's family lounges in the living room. They chatter away while enjoying the fruits I've washed and sliced. As I place the last dish on the table, Wayne's brother and sister-in-law, Kyle Cooper and Lucy Wren, arrive. When I want to take my seat, I discover there isn't one for me. That's when Lucy snorts and says sarcastically, "I heard you're a good wife who's obedient and easygoing, Melanie. I have to say that your cooking is… mediocre, though." This infuriates me. I'm about to retort when she turns to my mother-in-law. She says, "I think you should do the cooking from now on, Gloria. Your food is delicious…"

It was Christmas Eve. Once again, my parents left me alone at home, chasing triple pay at work. However, after twenty years of the same lonely holiday, I couldn’t take it anymore. I didn’t want to sit in the quiet house by myself again, so I packed up some sandwiches and went to them. What I didn’t expect was to see them stepping out of a luxury car, arms linked with a boy who looked about my age, laughing like they didn’t have a care in the world, heading straight into a five-star hotel. “Mom, Dad, is it okay to leave Suzie all alone at home like that?” My mom waved it off and said, “It’s fine. She’s used to it.” My dad just brushed it off with a chuckle. “She’s nothing like you. You're our real treasure.” Upon hearing that, I turned and walked away. They'd been pretending to be broke all these years, lying to me about working overtime, about scraping by. Well, fine. If they don’t want me, I’m done wanting them, too.

After I was reborn, I dumped the cheating bastard and married his older twin brother. But as it turns out, I still picked the wrong man. In my past life, I married Maxwell Vaughan, the younger twin. Not long after our wedding, he started sleeping with Kelly Sloan, the maid's daughter. For her, he set the house on fire while I was sleeping. I woke up burned beyond recognition. Amoura, the world-famous lingerie brand, dropped me overnight. Just like that, my modeling career was over. This time, I chose Charlie Vaughan, the older twin. We were in sync and deeply in love. I thought I'd finally made it, that I'd rise to the top and become the supermodel I was meant to be. But the night before my Amoura runway show, my face was burned again. Charlie uncovered the truth quickly and had Maxwell arrested. For a moment, I thought I'd made the right choice this time. Six years later, I overhear something I was never meant to hear as Charlie tucks our sons, Declan and Dylan Vaughan, into bed. "Dad, Uncle Max already took the fall for Kelly. So why did she have to leave the country? Couldn't she have stayed here with us?" "Yeah, Dad. We still want Kelly to be our mom. We hate that freak!" Charlie pulls Declan and Dylan into his arms. His gaze softens with sorrow, then hardens with quiet resolve. "I already betrayed your mom once for Kelly. I'll spend the rest of my life to make it right." A rush of emotion surged through me, the pain cutting deeper than the fire ever did. For six years of marriage and eight years of love, I've been nothing more than a joke. Only now do I see it—Charlie loved Kelly all along, just like Maxwell did. Our marriage was nothing more than a matter of convenience. Even Declan and Dylan call me a freak and wish Kelly were their mother. If that's how it is, then so be it. I'm done with all three of them.

"Honey, the washing machine's making that buzzing sound again. Can you fix it please?" I got up from my desk and walked over. Just as I placed my hand on the washing machine, a wave of numbness surged through my body. My heart pounded wildly before I convulsed and collapsed on the floor. Just before everything went dark, I heard my wife on the phone. "He has collapsed. He should be dead by now." The power outlet continued to hiss and buzz, like the mocking laughter of a devil. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day my wife asked me to fix the washing machine. I then decided to secretly follow her, only to discover she was posing as a topless model for her art teacher.

The world snapped back into focus, the memories of my brutal end crashing into the present. I was back—right here, right now, the exact moment Jarrold Jameson was trying to hand me that obscenely expensive purse. In my past life, he'd had a nasty fight with his precious Cindy Mayford. To make her jealous, he decided to use me as his pawn. I'd been stupid enough to love him once, but my pride had revolted. I'd refused to be a stand-in. It didn't matter. He kept engineering "accidental" run-ins, crafting one public misunderstanding after another, all to get a reaction from Cindy. I had done nothing wrong. I gained nothing. But I became Cindy's enemy. Her jealousy festered until it turned lethal. She had me kidnapped. The men she hired left my body shattered and broken. And Jarrold? He held his sobbing darling close and whispered those unforgettable words, "She got what she deserved." In the end, they stepped right over what was left of me and walked off into their picture-perfect life. Now, staring into his smug face, a cold clarity settled over me. This time, everything would be different. I snatched the handbag from his grasp. "A present for me?" I asked, my voice sweet, a sharp, calculated smile on my lips. "I love it. But just so you know, for next time… I've always preferred the classic design from her family's brand. That's the one you should be buying me."

On the seventh day after my daughter goes missing, I kidnap an entire kindergarten. I lock away all 27 students and two teachers in a classroom. I tell the police that if they can't find my daughter, I will kill a kid every 30 minutes. The principal falls to her knees, wailing and begging, "It's not my fault that your daughter is missing. Why should other children pay for it?" I glance at my watch. "29 minutes left. Find her." I know she's in this kindergarten.

The nanny, Polly Jackson, pushes me down the stairs when I'm seven months pregnant. I suffer from major blood loss and go into premature labor. Before I can question her about it, Zachary Campbell brushes me off with a lame excuse. "Polly didn't mean it. You and the baby are fine, so don't be so petty about this." I get out of bed to move around. I'm at the bathroom door when I hear Zachary and Polly's conversation. "Are you sure that wretch can stay alive, Zachary? Switching it out won't be that easy if it dies." "Don't worry about whether Daisy Jameson's baby can live, Mom. Either way, mine and Danielle's child will be the Campbell family's sole heir." I pretend I've never heard this and raise my son for 18 years. During a banquet held in honor of a share ownership transfer, Polly suddenly shows up with my mentally impaired daughter. She cries, "Mason is my grandson! It's high time he's returned to his rightful place after being raised by the wrong family for so long!" I'm unfazed. I even laugh at her words. "Fine, then!"