Emotional

Heating starts on the 15th, so I give my mom the money to pay the heating bill two days in advance and ask her to pay it for me. But a week passes, and it still feels like an icehouse in my apartment. I am on the phone complaining to my younger brother's wife, Selena Lyons, who lives upstairs. "You are right not to pay the heating fee. I paid, and it made no difference. We're freezing to death here." From the other end of the call, I faintly hear my nephew shouting, "Mom, it's so hot! I want a popsicle!"

Someone started a thread on a forum asking, [Do men become stingy with their wives after marriage?] The replies were full of women complaining about how cheap and calculating their husbands were. My husband, however, went in the opposite direction. After we got married, he handed me his payroll card to manage and kept only a few dozen dollars a month for his own expenses, as though he had truly given everything to me and to this family. I shook my head and was about to respond when my mother-in-law's call interrupted me. "Chloe, Josh's god sister is sick. She needs $4,500." My husband immediately slipped an arm around my shoulders and assured me, "Don't worry. We'll use my salary. You won't have to pay a cent." "Alright," I said. Seeing how certain he was, I transferred one dollar to him on the spot and added a note: Medical expenses transferred. When my mother-in-law saw the transfer, she flew into a rage, sharply accusing me of being jealous and petty, even withholding money meant to save a life. I remained unmoved. "That's all there is on the card." She completely lost her temper, threatening to come over and audit how many kickbacks I had supposedly pocketed over the years. I agreed to settle the accounts. That was when my husband suddenly lost his enthusiasm.

My name's Skylar Sothisby. I became the heiress to an internationally renowned fine and decorative art auction house after my brother, Dean, died in a car crash. Like any head of an elite family, my father wanted a successor for our empire. He selected three exceptionally handsome and talented young men and groomed them into business geniuses in their own right, so that one day I could choose one of them as my husband. Of the three, Corbin Ford was his favorite. I tried to grow close to him as well, but he always kept a certain distance. I began to wonder if he was either celibate or inclined the other way, until one day I overheard him speaking to Irina, my late brother's widow, in the courtyard. "You know why I agreed to marry Skylar, don't you, Irina? So I can see you every day." He continued, "Once I become the head of the family business, I'll give you anything and everything you want, sweetie." Before a company soirée, my father summoned me to his study. He asked whether I had decided whom to marry. I smiled. "I choose Cyrus Brennan." He stared at me in shock. "Cyrus? But he's effectively vasectomized after that plane accident two years ago. He can't have children."

We were on a field trip to the Holy State of Aram, when the prom queen, Susie Lambert, complained about the hot weather and called for a bikini party. My boyfriend Ken insisted on bringing the whole class along just to satisfy her whim, even though I warned him, "That's against the law, and visitors who are found guilty will be remanded, if not killed…" He slapped me across the face and snapped, "Don't try to scare us! You're just jealous that Susie's got a nice bod, and you don't want to see us being happy together!" Everyone else in the class roared in approval too. "Exactly! You already took Ken away from Susie, and you'd now come up with such bullshit!" I was furious and frustrated, but for their sake, I spoke to Mrs. Dent, the class teacher. She scolded everyone when she realized what they were doing and called off the bikini party. However, Susie got so upset that she ran off alone and flaunted her bikini at the beach anyway, and she was caught before being executed as a spy by zealots. Ken blamed it all on me. In the middle of the night, he sneaked into my home and set fire to it with gasoline, killing my entire family. Afterward, the entire class testified on his behalf to create an alibi. But I opened my eyes again and found myself returning to that day when Susie goaded everyone to join her bikini party. This time, I simply smiled. "Go ahead, enjoy yourselves all you want!"

I got into a car accident on my way to celebrate my daughter, Anna Chapman's birthday. When I wake up, I stare at my family, who has my bed surrounded. Then, I decide to crack a joke. "Sorry, but who are you people?" I do my best to suppress my smile as I look forward to how my family will comfort me now that I'm "amnesiac". Will my dad and my wife hold my hands out of heartbreak? Or will Anna rush over to hug me while crying for me? What I don't expect is that my family actually heaves sighs of relief after their initial shock. My dad is the first one to speak up, his tone tinged with relief. "It's a good thing that you've forgotten about your past. The truth is, you're the adopted son of the Gray family. Calvin is the actual heir of the Grays." My wife, Yvonne Stewart, points at me while telling Anna, "You should address him as Uncle Damian." Before I can recover from my shock, I see Anna, who I've risked my life to protect, run into Calvin Gray, the fake heir's arms. "Daddy, I was out having fun the whole day! Oh, I've missed you so much!" It turns out that my family wants nothing more than for me to lose my memories. In that case, I might as well abandon everything that's fake in my life.

Just because I ate one chicken leg more than my brother, my father kicked me out of the house in the middle of a snowstorm. Later on, my father of an archeologist dug up my body. Due to my missing head, he did not recognize me. Even when he saw that the body had the same scars as I did, he did not care. Later on, my mother dug out my heart and showed it to her students. "Today, we will study the heart of someone with congenital heart disease." She once said she would recognize me no matter what I looked like. Mom, now that the only thing left of me is my heart, do you still recognize me?

My future mother-in-law, Diane Grant, loved setting rules. On the day I proposed, she sat there with that smug, superior look and told me if I wanted to marry her daughter, Olivia Grant, I had to pass her so-called "son-in-law training", which was three months working as a food delivery driver. She said she wanted to test whether I could handle hardship. For my fiancee's sake, I kept my identity hidden. I was the heir to one of the most powerful families in Crestfall City, and I agreed without hesitation. For three months, I shed every trace of privilege. I worked from dawn to night, delivering orders across the city. My parents didn’t understand. My friends disapproved. Mrs. Grant watched me like a hawk, picking me apart every single day. "Three minutes late? That’s a $3,000 penalty. The wedding shall be delayed by a month!" "Wrong unit delivery, bad review? $8,000 penalty. You don’t get to see Olivia this week!" Even then, I never gave up. Until the final day. I received an urgent order with a massive tip. The note was in bold: "Lifesaving medication. Immediate delivery." I sped through the streets, pushing myself to the limit. Just as I was about to enter the residential compound, Mrs. Grant stepped in front of me, blocking my way, her face full of disdain. Her voice shot up sharply. "The wedding gift goes up to $200,000. Not a cent less." I looked at her look of absolute certainty and suddenly laughed. My finger slid across the screen. The recipient of that urgent order was her precious son, Christopher Grant. I slowly put away the unlimited card in my pocket, along with the check I had prepared for a million-dollar wedding gift. Originally, I had planned to reveal my identity that day to give her the surprise of a lifetime. It seemed there was no need.

My parents' enemy kidnaps me and livestreams chopping off my fingers just to force them to show up. For a time, the entire Internet searches for my parents. But what they don't know is that the captain who appeared in the livestream is my biological father. At that moment, he's on a beach in Hashford, setting off magnificent fireworks for his adopted daughter. And on their barbecue table, the livestream of my fingers being severed is playing. Later on, when I survive long enough to be rescued, I reach out my mangled hand to touch my parents. They recoil in disgust and leave without looking back, taking the adopted daughter out for Wersole food. But they don't know that the thing hidden within my mangled palm will make them regret their actions beyond measure.

My best friend was a D-list influencer who'd blown six months of savings to drag me to a so-called "socialite finishing school." But then the instructor made us slap each other across the face — an "obedience test." I couldn't help it. I laughed. The next second, my friend was blacklisted from the entire circle, and her agent sent a termination notice. The instructor pointed at me and gave my friend an ultimatum: "Get on your knees. Slap her ten times. Then I'll lift the ban." My friend cried, trembling as she walked toward me. I sighed. The billion-dollar inheritance I'd just received — looks like the secret was about to come out.

A Gen Z employee named Sylvie Mercer has reported me to the Department of Labor by claiming that I've forced all employees to work on the year-end holidays. But the truth is, I've given the entire company a nine-day vacation just to celebrate the year-end holidays. Those who are willing to work overtime shifts will be paid three times their usual salaries and given an additional five-thousand-dollar bonus. Sylvie keeps crying on the internet about how all the employees, including her, are forced to trade their lives for money. Thanks to her, the entire Internet keeps bashing me. So, I decide to follow the public opinion by releasing an announcement. "In order to ensure all employees' health, the company's doors shall be locked during the year-end holidays. Do note that the electric supply will be cut off as well. No one is permitted entry into the company." As soon as the announcement is released, the employees who plan on earning extra money in order to pay off their mortgages all rush toward my office in alarm.