Emotional

When I'm taking Mom and Dad to experience the cable car ride, an infinite display of fireworks suddenly bursts from the bottom of the mountain. Soon, they form a sentence in the air. "Our romance will never fade away, even if we die. Yvonne Shaw, my heart belongs to you always." Right away, I realize that my husband, Henry Glover, has specifically prepared the fireworks display just to please his childhood sweetheart, Yvonne Shaw. Under the powerful attacks of the fireworks, the cable lines begin to shake and tremble violently to the point they are about to snap. My fingers tighten around my phone so much that they've turned white. I scream into the speaker, "Henry Glover, have you gone nuts? Stop it! Mom and Dad are still in the cable car!" But he merely chortles in return. I can hear Yvonne's delicate voice egging him on in the background. "Why should I stop? When Yvonne's parents were lying in the ICU and waiting for help three years ago, you screwed up their life-saving surgery despite the fact that you never failed a surgery before! "Today, I want you to have a taste of what it feels like to lose your loved ones as well!" After that, the bodyguards' responses echo from the other end of the line. Henry orders, "Add another huge batch of fireworks and aim them at the cable car. Just keep firing at it!" Yvonne's titters are like poisoned honey. She continues egging on Henry. "You're amazing, darling! Make those two bastards turn to ash!" The cable car sinks all of a sudden. Mom and Dad are so frightened that their complexions turn deathly pale. With bloodshot eyes, I use all of my strength in roaring at my phone. "Henry Glover, your own parents are the ones trapped inside the cable car right now!"

The student I once sponsored, Lillian Pegg, jacked my identity, slapped on the "rich heiress" title, and started tossing out houses and cars like she was some fairy godmother for "underprivileged" students. Her big mission? Making sure everyone had a roof over their head. My in-laws? Wrapped around her finger. They swore up and down she'd saved their lives. Even Liam—my son with my late husband—acted like she was the only mom he'd ever had. Meanwhile, I was puking blood from ulcers, and everyone treated it like a bad improv act. Liam bought every word out of her mouth. Thought she and my husband were some kind of twin-flame couple and labeled me the evil baby snatcher. Fast-forward: I got locked in a bedroom and left to bleed out. Then I woke up. It was the exact day Lillian was playing Santa Claus. The crowd around her practically worshipped her. "You're the kindest boss in the world! You care about our food, clothes, housing, everything. We'll support you and your company forever!" Yeah, not on my watch. I shut down all her privileges right then and there. This time? Lillian and that backstabbing son of mine were gonna eat regret for the rest of their lives.

After graduation, I struggle to find a job, while my girlfriend easily lands a position at a major company. She has been with me for two years, and to cheer me up, she even lets me hold onto her payroll card. Once I finally start working, she worries about my long commute and immediately buys me a car. Everyone around us envies me for having such a thoughtful girlfriend. To save up for a house, I secretly deposit my salary into her account. A year later, we decide to get married. Excited, she grabs my hand and says, "I know you don't have much saved. I don't need any wedding gift. All I want is your love." I am deeply touched by her consideration. But on our engagement day, she pulls out photos of me with a dozen women and accuses me of cheating. I look closely and realize I have never even met any of them. Then she shows me my card's transaction history, filled with charges at the notorious Solara Club. "You had my payroll card, and you used my money to indulge yourself!" she cries. "I'm not marrying you. Return my car and all the money you spent over the years. It adds up to 800 thousand dollars." I calmly place the payroll card she gave me on the table and say with a smirk, "Fine, let's settle this properly." When I present the detailed account prepared by my top lawyer, she is stunned.

I was born with a one-track mind—I take everything seriously and do exactly as I'm told. When my adoptive father cursed a rival company, calling them bloodsucking vampires, I immediately went out, bought ten pounds of garlic and a crucifix, and stormed into their CEO's office to perform an exorcism. When my adoptive mother said she was willing to sell a kidney for the sake of the company, I contacted an underground black-market clinic on the spot and asked when they could schedule her surgery. Over time, no one dared joke casually around me anymore. Everyone in the family chose their words with extreme care, terrified I might take them at face value. That is, until the day of the family reunion banquet—when the fake heiress, who refused to leave no matter what, showed up as well. She hooked her arm through my brother's and flashed me a provocative smile. "Arista, Benji dotes on me the most," she said sweetly. "He said if anyone dares to make me unhappy, he'll chop them into pieces and dump them in the river to feed the fish." The banquet hall erupted in laughter. I was the only one whose face went deathly pale. The next second, I kicked my brother, Benji Collins, straight onto the dining table. I grabbed the silver steak knife and pressed it against his throat. "Everyone, stay calm," I announced loudly. "I've already called the police! For publicly advocating premeditated murder, desecration of a corpse, and antisocial personality tendencies… The minimum sentence is the death penalty!"

I'm undressed and bound to a testing table when my family comes to pick me up. A thick, sharp needle pierces into my neck. A drug is administered into my blood, and the pain almost makes me lose consciousness. Behind me, I can feel a man's cold hands stroking my skin amorously. Before me, several people are staring at me. They point at me and treat me like an educational instrument. I tremble in fear and curl up on the testing table in pain. Three years ago, my brother sent me to Mykorra's war zone to stand up for Yvette Sanders. Those were the three most insulting and torturous years of my life. They burned away my hope for kinship but not my desire for survival. As the hands roam lower on my body, I bite my lip so hard that I almost draw blood. As the hands start to go overboard, someone knocks on the door. "Wendy Sanders, your brother is here for you."

Years after graduation, someone suddenly tags me in the class group chat. "Mr. Warren is gravely ill, Mira. Aren't you going to do anything? You really are heartless!" I only realize what's going on when I click on the fundraising link in the chat. Our high school homeroom teacher, Joseph Warren, has late-stage cancer. Thus, Lyra Fairfield, the class belle, is leading a fundraiser and patient-donor matching process. "I'll donate ten thousand dollars. My husband is the director of Waverly General Hospital, and I've already asked him to arrange a VIP ward for Mr. Warren." Right after I send that message, the group pounces on me. "Mira, you contracted an STD back then and tried to pin it on Lyra. She didn't even hold it against you, and now you're trying to steal her thunder? You're unbelievable!" "I can't believe you're still lying through your teeth during such a serious situation. You never change, do you?" Lyra immediately defuses the tension. "Mira, I don't blame you for what happened in the past, but you really shouldn't impersonate the director's wife. I've already arranged the ward and surgery, and I'm donating another 100 thousand dollars to Mr. Warren!" I'm this close to laughing out of sheer anger. She's the one who scratched her name off the diagnosis report and framed me for having an STD all those years ago. I never even confronted her about it, and now she's playing the victim? Lyra soon posts a photo in the group chat, showing off her husband's car. Yet, when I see the man in the passenger seat, I guffaw. Isn't that my husband's driver? When did he start running a hospital?

Daddy brought me to Aunt Jenny’s party. As I was eating a piece of cake, I tasted a cherry between the layers and hurriedly spat it out. Once, I broke out in rashes after eating a cherry and nearly died, so I was deeply traumatized by that flavor even as a young child. However, Aunt Jenny looked heartbroken. “I hid a cherry in the cake as a little surprise, just like it’s good luck to get a bay leaf in a pie. How could you be so rude, Kenny?” Daddy did not even let me explain. He chased me out in the yard and made me stand there as punishment. Mommy said it had been more than a hundred degrees out lately, so she told me to stay home and not go out to play. Now I knew just how hot 104 degrees could be! My body was all itchy, too. I was finding it hard to breathe. I wanted to ask Daddy to forgive me, but he refused to open the door no matter how hard I knocked. He glanced at me coldly through the floor-to-ceiling window. He was not going to let me back in.

When I was ten, I accidentally overheard my mother on the phone. It seemed like she was talking about me being a switched-at-birth rich girl, and that my real last name was Gardner. The coldness and cruelty my mother had shown me all these years suddenly made sense. When I turned 11, I paid an adult to get a maternity test done for both my mother and me. The results confirmed that I was indeed her biological daughter. I kept the report to myself and pretended I was still in the dark.

Xenia Lewis, the nepotism junior, is eager to craft an image of herself as a prodigy. To prove her talent, she requests to take the lead in court. But when confronted by the plaintiff's attorney's sharp questioning, she falters. Our defense unravels, instantly putting us at a disadvantage. After the verdict is announced, Xenia tearfully throws herself into the arms of my fiance, Zayne Scott. Her voice trembles with excuses. "The plaintiff's attorney was too harsh. It was my first time in court, and I was just too nervous!" Due to her incompetence, the defendant, who could have been acquitted, ends up behind bars. Yet, Zayne and my junior colleague, Hugo Wilkinson, indulge her with comforting words. "Don't be upset. No one wins every case." "With your cleverness, Xenia, you'll surely hold your own next time." Furious, I snap, "The court is a place to seek truth and uphold justice. It's not a playground for make-believe. Because of your mistake, an innocent person has been wronged. How can you live with yourself?" Feeling humiliated, Xenia breaks down, sobbing and threatening to harm herself. Resentful that I've hurt her, Zayne and Hugo distort the truth, shifting all the blame onto me. I end up as the scapegoat for her mistakes. Not only am I forced to resign in disgrace, but I also face disbarment. With nowhere to turn, my spirit shatters. While crossing the street, distraught and distracted, I'm hit by a car and killed. Then, when I wake up, I find myself reborn on the very day Xenia and I are set to appear in court.

My billionaire dad chooses a husband for me. People claim that Sebastian Lambert is a fine gentleman who's absolutely in awe of me. He seems easy enough to deal with, so I agree to the marriage. The wedding is held at the biggest hotel my family owns. On the big day, as I push open the doors in my wedding dress, a bucket of foul-smelling blood comes crashing down on me. The scene inside is even more horrifying. What was supposed to be a pure and romantic ceremony is now decorated with giant spiders and cockroaches. Grotesque clown faces grin at me from the walls. At the altar, there's a black coffin. Sebastian's adoptive sister, Ruth Lambert, strolls over with a group of people. She covers her mouth in fake surprise as she remarks, "Oh my, Claudia, you look like a pathetic mutt right now!" Laughter erupts around me. Holding my anger back, I coldly reply, "All of you, get out." She crosses her arms, arrogantly looking down at me as if she's on some pedestal. "Come on, Claudia. Seb personally asked me to surprise you. I put in a lot of effort to decorate your little wedding. You're telling me to get out? I don't even get a 'thank you'? Do you need me to teach you some manners?" She signals to the people next to her, and two of them step forward, trying to force me to my knees. Stunned for a few seconds, I pull out my phone and call Sebastian. "Is this the so-called surprise you had your sister prepare for me? Forcing me to kneel before her?"