Emotional

I was the real daughter—unloved, unwanted, and cast aside. The design draft I poured my heart into was stolen by my second brother and gifted to the fake daughter. Then he accused me of being a plagiarist. My father, the richest man in the city, had me blacklisted from the entire industry. The fake daughter pretended to apologize, then pushed me off a cliff. When I woke up, nearly all my bones had been shattered. I called my fiancé, the captain of the rescue team, but he was cradling the fake daughter's sprained ankle. He scoffed, "Oh, you had an accident too? Want me to save you? Why don't you just die already?" My body grew colder under the crushing pain. My eldest brother, the forensic pathologist, cut open my rotting corpse while grumbling that he was late for the fake daughter's birthday. Yet when they finally saw me again, they all cried, begging for my forgiveness.

At the age when I should have been attending university, I was framed by my biological parents and sent to prison. My sister had been cruelly killed by her kidnappers when she tried to save me, and they blamed me for her death. On the day of my release, I was kidnapped and had one of my ears cut off. When I found the opportunity, I immediately called my father, asking him to save me. Instead, he snapped, saying, “You’re no longer my son! Don’t contact me!” I was then burned alive. After I died, my sister returned. However, when my parents found out that the charred corpse was mine, the family crumbled.

The human traffickers were apprehended, and after DNA verification, the police returned me to my affluent parents. My parents gave a cold nod, thanked the officers, and instructed the butler to make me comfortable. Two months after returning home, the fake heiress, Irene Burrel, secretly signed me up for a wilderness survival course. My parents gently stroked her head. “Since you want to play, let her accompany you.” They did not care one bit if I died out there. Irene smirked triumphantly at me. “What does it matter if you’re the real heiress? I can still do whatever I want with you! “Survival training is my daily routine. I’ll make sure you leave that competition on a stretcher!” When we arrived at the wilderness training grounds in the mountains, I laughed. I grew up in these very forests. Did she think I did not know this place?

To rebel against my family's arranged marriage, I run away from home. Six months later, I decide to return to university and continue my studies, only to be told by a professor that Adam Richmond enrolled six months ago. Not only that, but he and my fiancée have apparently become the campus' picture-perfect couple. I go to confront him, but the woman claiming to be Adam's fiancée drives me away. "You beggar and fraud, how dare you call yourself Mr. Richmond? Besides, I am Erica Wright, the eldest daughter of the Wright family. How could I not recognize my own fiancé?" I stare at the woman before me, unable to hide my doubts. I've never met her, yet I've always heard that the eldest daughter of the Wright family is supposed to be gentle and poised. Could this proud, overbearing woman really be my fiancée?

After nursing the baby, I closed my eyes to rest for a moment. The nanny, thinking I was asleep, brazenly clung to my husband, cooing, "Harlan, if your wife finds out that the son she gave birth to was swapped out long ago and that the baby in her arms is actually ours, do you think she’d be furious?” “You’re so smart. Swapping the babies at the hospital was brilliant. Once our daughter inherits her fortune, we’ll kick her out of the house in no time!” I pretended not to hear their conversation. I continued to raise my daughter with utmost care and devotion. When she returned from her studies, I immediately transferred all my shares to her, supporting her to become the youngest heir of the company. At the handover celebration, the nanny dressed even more extravagantly than I did. She boldly grabbed my daughter and declared, “I am Yasmine’s real mother! You’ve kept her from me all these years, but now it’s time that the truth is revealed!” My husband handed me the divorce papers with a smug look. “For Yasmine’s sake, let’s part ways amicably.” My daughter folded her arms and glared at me. “Since you raised me for so many years, I’ll visit you in the nursing home once a year.” Watching their victorious smiles, I lowered my eyes. “As you wish.” I hope you’re ready to handle the kind of wealth that shatters the heavens!

The day after the new year, during a family gathering, my aunt sneered at me as I worked overtime, reviewing a proposal. "Why are you pretending to be so busy? It’s not like we don’t know you only make three thousand a month. Real money-makers are people like my daughter, a designer so successful she doesn’t even have time to come home!" I ignored her, but she directed her spoiled son to delete all my files while I was in the bathroom. My hands trembled with rage. "This proposal is due in ten minutes—if I don’t submit it, everything is ruined!" She scoffed dismissively. "He’s just a kid. What could he possibly know? Besides, your job isn’t even worth much. If you lose the files, you lose them. Worst case, you get fired." I chuckled coldly but said nothing. She had no idea it was the proposal her daughter had spent an entire month working on. And I was the client who held her daughter’s fate in my hands.

On my very first day at work, I received an unexpected "Carpool Request": "I am currently 3 weeks pregnant. Since I don't know how to drive and for the safety of my baby, I require my colleagues to take turns picking me up and dropping me off." "After some research, I found that your car is worth a lot of money, and it’s less than a year old, meeting my standards for a suitable ride. You will be responsible for driving me home today after work." "I don’t work overtime, so please pack up your things before clock-out time and leave the office on schedule." I frowned and immediately replied: "If you have no shame, I’m happy to donate it to someone who truly needs it!"

In my past life, I was trafficked and gave birth to a son. When Noah Barrett turns six, I plan to take him and escape from the mountains. On my first attempt, I map out the route in advance and prepare to flee with him. But in the morning, my mother-in-law, Ruth Whitaker, blocks me at the door. She ties me up and locks me inside the shed. Then, she starves me for three days. On my second try, I secretly buy sleeping pills from an unlicensed village doctor and slip them into dinner. At the table, Ruth flips the table without hesitation and beats me until I am half dead. The third time, I take advantage of a village meeting and escape with Noah again. We hide in a concealed mountain cave. Neither of us makes a sound, yet Ruth finds us with ease. I am dragged back and locked away in the pigpen. Ruth takes a shovel and strikes me with it again and again. "You filthy bitch. You dare run off with my precious grandson!" Her eyes are bloodshot. With the final blow, she uses all her strength and smashes the shovel into my head. I collapse to the ground. My consciousness fades. My blood drains away, and I die. When I open my eyes again, I am back on the day I plan to escape the mountains with Noah. Suddenly, I can hear Noah's thoughts, his voice clear and dripping with viciousness. "Mom can't be allowed to run. Grandma says Mom is our family's slave. She's supposed to serve us for her whole life."

From the time I was ten until I turned eighteen, my parents made me write 299 IOUs. Every time I needed money, I had to borrow it and pay it back as an adult. Then I got into a car accident. I needed money for surgery but was still short by 3,000. With no other options, I went to my parents for help. But they just gave me cold smiles. “Clara, you’re eighteen now. We have no obligation to give you money anymore. If you need it, write another IOU.” While holding back tears, I wrote my 300th IOU. After my surgery, I saw my adopted sister’s social media post. In the pictures, she was celebrating her 18th birthday on a cruise. She was the center of attention, like a princess. My parents had given her a luxury apartment in the city and a Maserati as birthday gifts. Even my childhood friend was looking at her with love in his eyes. She said they were the ones she loved and thanked them for giving her the best of everything. I looked down at the crumpled IOU in my hand and suddenly laughed. Once I paid off my debt, I would no longer need such a family.

When I was seven years old, my father began subjecting me to extremely strict parenting. Not only did he withhold any support for my food, clothing, housing, or daily necessities, but he even charged me for drinking water in our own home. As a child, I endured relentless suffering and bullying. When I was critically injured by a vehicle that broke the law, I was severely injured, and my father refused to save me. Only after my death did I learn the truth that he already had a son somewhere out there. Everything he did to me was meant to drive me to my death. After rebirth, I no longer adhered to rules nor endured silently. Exploiting the fact that I was still a minor, I stabbed his secretary, bullied my classmates at school, and even set a fire on campus to force my father to give up on his brutal methods. When I grew up, I took everything he owned and sent him to prison. Only then was my revenge completed.