Emotional

My coworker, Kevin Walter, invited me to join a private messaging chat group of rich women. There are plenty of perks, such as the 300-dollar cash gift he claimed right in front of me. I joined the group out of curiosity and got to know a wealthy woman named Ms. White. After some time together, she invited me on a vacation to a famous tourist city near the country's border. Little did I know, I was close enough to being dragged into a dangerous area abroad to become a live organ donor.

I knew that my father did not like me since I was young. When I wanted to commit suicide to end the pain caused by my illness, he was celebrating another child’s birthday. He hated my mother and me alongside her. So, when I told him that I was sick, he did not believe me. “Is this your new tactic to get money from me?” No one believed that the daughter of the Powell family could die because she was too poor to pay the hospital fees. My father did not believe it either. However, when he saw my dead body, the famous actor who hated his daughter actually went insane.

In my dormitory, there was a poor student. With all the good intentions in the world, my roommates and I were eager to help her, not realizing how much our help would cost. She wasn't impressed by the hairdryer we offered, insisting on borrowing a branded one instead. The skincare products we gave her? They were applied to her feet. And, as if that wasn't enough, she specifically demanded luxury face cream. One day, I lent her my tablet to look up some information, and to my surprise, she secretly opened up my gaming app, spent all the diamonds and reward tickets I had saved for half a year, and left me empty-handed. When I asked her to pay me back, she turned the tables and posted a public message online, accusing me. "I'm just a poor student from the countryside, never played games before. Are the materials in the game really worth this much?" Before I knew it, the comment section was flooded with criticisms of me. In a fit of frustration, I fired back with a post of my own, throwing her into the spotlight. "Well, I suppose you've never tasted the bitterness of being cyberbullied, have you?"

My mother-in-law, Kylie McGowan, told me that she wanted to experience the life of the younger crowd, so I took her to my husband Jerome Callen's newly opened upscale bar for a quiet drink. I had just ordered her a signature cocktail when a woman from the booth across the aisle sauntered over, wine glass in hand. Her eyes flicked over the menu on our table, and she laughed mockingly. "Seriously? You ordered the cheapest drink on the menu? Did you bring this old lady here just to enjoy the free AC? People like you should stay in the gutter. This place isn't meant for penniless people!" I rose to my feet, holding back my temper. "We're paying for our drinks here. What does our drink choice have to do with you?" But she suddenly snapped, grabbed a half-finished beer bottle off a nearby table, and swung it at my head. "My husband's the owner of this bar! I could smash your skull in and still afford the damages! Get out, you pauper! Don't be an eyesore here!" I wiped the liquor off my face as my entire body shook with anger. Then I turned away, started my livestream, and spoke directly to my followers. "Look here, everyone! I'm going live to catch a cheater. Let's go explore my husband's other home."

It's my first day undercover at my future husband's dessert shop, and chaos walks in with fake lashes and two-inch nails. "I want an ice cream. Heated." I paused. "Just checking... You want your ice cream hot?" She gave me a look like I'd failed kindergarten. "Yes. Hot ice cream. Are you slow?" Deep breath. Zen mode. Customer-first service smile. "I'm sorry, ma'am. Ice cream has to stay frozen, or it just turns into—well... milk. If you want something warm, we have hot tea or coffee." "I'm pregnant!" she screeched. "Pregnant women crave weird things! Plus, my doctor said I can't eat anything cold! Are you trying to kill my baby and me? Is that what this is?!" People started turning their heads. Fantastic. A whole audience. I kept my voice low. "Ma'am, I can refund you." She suddenly smacked the counter, knocking the scanner sideways. Her nails shot past my face like tiny knives. "What kind of attitude is that?! A pathetic cashier talking back to me? I'll call my husband and get you fired!" Then, she leaned in like she was about to reveal a royal bloodline. "Guess what? I'm the boss's wife." I blinked. If that was true, I really needed to stop thinking about helping my boyfriend to open 3,000 franchise stores.

I'm a special kind of courier. Instead of packages, I transport beautiful women. I drop them off at designated locations and pick them up afterward. Each round trip earns me a thousand dollars. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine that my crush would climb into my car one day. What's more, she'd brought my sister along, saying they wanted to make some quick money together.

Both Sienna Zeller, a top-tier actress, and I went into premature labor, and my husband, hailed as the star obstetrician, pulled a deformed baby from me. The shock nearly broke me. I sank into despair, only to accidentally discover that Sienna was my husband's first love. He had deliberately caused my early labor, planning to swap my healthy baby for hers, all to protect her image. Sienna played the perfect mother in public while secretly abusing my daughter until she was left mentally impaired. Heartbroken, I went to rescue my child, only for my husband and his first love to conspire, shoving us both down the stairs to our deaths. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I gave birth. I touched my unborn baby and vowed that this time, that cheating, cruel man and that treacherous woman would pay.

After my eight-year-old twin sister was kidnapped, my dad became the person who wished for my death more than anyone else in the world. He would always say, "Zachary is an ungrateful brat! A good-for-nothing!" So, when the news of my disappearance reached the school, my dad leads everyone in cheers. He even spreads word of my misdeeds everywhere. "Zachary stole a poor student's tuition fees and even made a false police report accusing the teacher of hitting him!" "That's right! He even helped traffickers kidnap children—his own sister was almost sold by him! I hope he dies soon!" Five years later, my memories are extracted and projected onto a large display screen. And yet my dad, who hates me to the core and wishes for my death, falls to his knees and begs for my forgiveness the moment he learns of my death.

I won the first prize at the Christmas party, which came with a bonus of $3,000. My boss generously doubled the rewards, and I eventually got $6,000. But my best friend and my boss started egging me on to treat everyone. In fact, they were just getting me to cover the company’s Christmas party. If I did not agree, my best friend wanted to cut off ties with me, and my boss wanted to fire me. Due to the pressure, I had to foot the bill, and I even ended up paying an extra $50,000 out of my own pocket. After I paid the bill, they abandoned me, who was drunk, and I just froze to death on the side of the road. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back to the day when the Christmas party was held.

I had anemia, so getting pregnant was not easy for me. My husband and I tried for ten years, and we finally had a son. When our son turned eight, he got into a car accident. The doctor said that he needed a blood transfusion, but his blood type was A. Both my husband and I were type O. My husband started to suspect that the child was not his and did a paternity test right away. The result showed that the boy really was not his son. I could not believe it and asked for another test, but the result was the same. My mother-in-law accused me of cheating and called me horrible names. My husband asked for a divorce and told me to leave with nothing except my son. We were kicked out of the house and ended up living in a cave in the mountains. A sudden rainstorm caused a landslide, and my son and I were buried alive inside. After I died, my spirit stayed near my husband. I heard him talking on the phone. “Don’t worry. I made her leave with nothing. We’ll get our marriage certificate tomorrow.” It turned out he had been seeing another woman for a while and had planned everything to make me leave with nothing except my son. What I could not figure out was how he managed to fake the paternity test in front of everyone. Luckily, I returned to the past. I woke up on the day of my son’s car accident.