Face Smacking

Drenched in mud, I've just climbed down the scaffolding and started munching on a cold piece of stale bread when a luxury car speeds past me, effectively drenching me in muddy water. The car window on the driver's side is quickly lowered. A sleazy guy hurls a pack of cigarettes in my face the next moment. "Hey, peasant! This is a reward for you! I got really lucky today, after all!" While I pick up the cigarette pack silently, the man happens to be boasting loudly to the woman sitting in the front passenger seat. "My brother-in-law really is an idiot! He seriously thinks that my sister has a terminal disease! He went to the black market last night night just to sell his blood in exchange for 200 thousand dollars' worth of surgical fees! I end up winning double in the casino with that money of his! "My sister told me that once that idiot gets his hands on the work injury compensation, she'll divorce him right away and buy me a new home!" I grip the bread so hard that it crumples in my hand. After all, my wife, Estella Wilson, was just diagnosed with "late-stage stomach cancer" yesterday. Suddenly, I feel my phone buzzing in my pocket. It's a voice message from Estella. "Hubby, it hurts so much going through the chemotherapy! The doctor told me that I'd be eligible for better medication if we could cough up another 200 thousand dollars. Can you please plead to the foreman and borrow some money from him?"

On the night before the wedding, my fiancé’s female best friend, Marisol Vance, sent me a set of photos. In the photos, she wore the custom haute couture wedding gown I had commissioned, leaning into Lucian Drake’s arms, with a caption meant to provoke me: [Borrowing your groom and your dress for a moment—after all, Lucian said I look better in this than you do.] Soon after, my social feed was flooded with their so-called wedding photos. In the images, the two of them staged a mock kiss, the caption reading: [More than friends, not quite lovers. If we had been born ten years earlier, there would have been no place for anyone else.] I held up the photos and confronted Lucian, yet he played his game indifferently, then tossed his phone aside, his face full of impatience. “I told you, it was just for fun—a way to commemorate our youth. Can you stop acting like a shrew? She was just diagnosed with depression. What’s wrong with me comforting her?” Looking at his self-righteous expression, I smiled. “Fine. Since your bond is so unbreakable, I won’t play the villain.” That very night, I drafted a withdrawal agreement and halted the arrangements I had been making with a top-tier overseas medical team for his mother. “The wedding is off. Don’t expect me to keep patching up your bankrupt company, and don’t expect me to save your mother either. “Your youth is precious—I hope you can afford to pay the price to keep it so.”

In my past life, I walked away from an invitation to the elite Academy just to take the fall for Luca. He held my hand, swearing he’d get me out. Swearing he’d keep me safe for the rest of my life. Instead, I rotted in a cell until I died. While I was bleeding out on the cold floor, Luca was marrying the Don’s daughter, living the high life. When I opened my eyes, I was back. Luca was sixteen again, face pale as a sheet, shoving a bloody gun into my hands. "Elena, you're a lifesaver." I slapped the piece away. "Dream on. I ain't taking the rap for you this time."

Everyone says I have the face of an angel. However, I choose to take a knife and slash my own beautiful face. When my twin sister sees the drastic change in my appearance, she loses it and screams at me, wanting to know why I ruined my face. In my past life, she couldn't stop stealing food deliveries. When our next-door neighbor caught her, she shoved the pregnant woman so hard that she miscarried. The woman was seven months along, and both she and her baby died. But my sister just shrugged it off, bragging that she was some popular influencer, and two pathetic lives didn't matter. She even slapped down a 50-dollar bill like it was nothing, just to humiliate them. "Still trying to scam my money? For all we know, that woman's baby was already dead inside her. Your family must've done pretty awful things to deserve losing two lives like that!" When the dead woman's family showed up at our door with kitchen knives, ready for revenge, my sister chickened out and hid. Before that, she tricked me into coming home instead. The second I walked up to our front door, the grief-stricken husband slashed at my neck, severing the artery. I died right there on the spot. After I died, everyone spat on my memory. They all said I got what I deserved, and my parents covered up what my sister really did. She even had the nerve to come forward and apologize for me, cashing in on my death while hooking up with my boyfriend. The two of them became this perfect couple online and made tons of money. This time around, I decide to destroy my face. I want to see how she will steal my identity and pin her crimes on me now!

“To escape a monster, she ran straight into the arms of a devil.” Lila Vance was a debt payment. Wrapped in fifty thousand dollars of French lace, she was minutes away from marrying Marcus Thorne—a man who whispered that she was nothing more than his "property." But Lila refused to be broken. With a ripped dress and a heart full of terror, she bolts from the altar and into the private elevator of the Grand Imperial Hotel. When the doors open, she finds herself in the lion’s den: the penthouse of Adrian Sterling, her fiancé’s most lethal rival. Adrian is a man carved from shadows and sin, a billionaire "Shark" who destroys legacies for sport. When Marcus comes to claim his prize, Adrian offers Lila a choice: go back to the man who will break you, or sign a one-year marriage contract with the man who will own you. As the line between their fake vows and real desire begins to blur, Lila must face a terrifying truth: Adrian Sterling didn't save her out of mercy. He saved her because she is the final piece in a game of revenge he’s been playing for years. In a game of power, who will be the first to break?

I had always been fragile, the kind of kid who could not handle a gust of wind without losing balance and who teared up over the smallest thing. The day my biological parents found me and took me back into their wealthy world, everything had already felt unreal. Then, things got worse. Out of nowhere, an old woman came sprinting down the street and dropped right in front of the Bentley, like she had timed it perfectly. I panicked and completely froze, so I did the only thing I could think of. I dropped down beside her and started crying. However, I overdid it. I cried so hard that blood started streaming from my eyes. The old woman jolted upright like she had seen something horrifying. She shoved 500 dollars into my hands, muttered a string of curses, and ran off without looking back. Just like that, I was back with the Snyder family. The house rose in front of me, all polished stone and perfectly kept lawns, like something out of a magazine. However, the closer I got, the more my nerves kicked in, and that familiar metallic taste crept up my throat again. The so-called heir walked over, smiling like we were supposed to be close. Then, he gave me a light shove. He leaned in, his voice low enough that only I could hear. "Stay in your place. Don't start wanting things that were never yours." Right there, in front of everyone, I leaned back and collapsed. I did not move at all. He froze. His face turned red as he grabbed my collar and shook me. "Quit pretending. Get up!" A few seconds passed, then a few more, before he slowly turned his head, his movements stiff. Tiny drops of blood speckled his clothes. His voice trembled. "Mom… Dad… I think…" He swallowed hard. "I think he stopped breathing."

At the company team-building event, I got called out by my colleague Samantha Rowler for not removing my price tag—she accused me of being a "freebie chaser." "Oh wow, Carla, you drive a BMW 5 Series. Are you seriously planning to return your clothes within seven days too?" she sneered. I tucked the tag back in and ignored her snide remark. But after the event, as soon as I got home, my phone started blowing up. My chat apps were going insane. A friend had sent me a link: [Luxury-Car Executive Turns Out to Be a Return Addict!] Someone had filmed me leaving the price tag on and posted it to a short-video platform. I opened the comment section and was met with a barrage of insults. [Can't afford to live, huh? Tag warrior.] [Is this car a sugar-daddy gift? Those who know, know.] [OMG, does this woman have some kind of illness? Which brand is this so I can avoid it!] I immediately knew Samantha was behind it. I messaged her to delete the video. Instead, the next second, she blocked me—and pinned a comment to the top of the thread: [You can know a person's face but never their heart!] I was about to post a statement to clarify, my finger hovering over the send button, when I noticed the video's likes had already shot past ten thousand. I laughed. If they wanted a scene, fine—let's make it bigger. I quickly posted a new update: [The outfit is really nice. I'll wear it again next time.] The netizens erupted. The insults doubled, the heat skyrocketed, and the post shot straight to number one trending. I just put my phone down and went to sleep.

My name is Dakota Wetherby. On the very day my husband, Theodore Aldridge, and I get legally married, he brings his ex-girlfriend, Sofia Moretti, into our home. "Sofia recently suffered a miscarriage, so she's going through a very difficult time. I'm genuinely worried about her," he says. "We're just friends. It's only natural for friends to comfort each other," he adds. Sofia is Theodore's college sweetheart. Rumor has it they separated on good terms when she went abroad for further studies. Clad in Theodore's jacket, she curls up on our bed. Her pale, ashen face is streaked with tears. "I'm so sorry, Dakota. I had no idea you two were getting married today. "I was too upset and didn't know who else to reach out to, so I called Theo. "He was only comforting me because I lost my child. It's completely my fault for overstepping and ruining your wedding day. "You can ask for whatever compensation you want. Just please don't blame Theo for this." I hold the freshly issued marriage certificate from the courthouse and walk up to her. "Since you've brought it up, I suppose I'll reluctantly accept your compensation. "Theodore and I are married for business reasons, with billions in projects hanging in the balance. "Tell me, how exactly do you plan to make up for all of that?"

Three months after my baby was born, I found out my husband, Joe, was cheating. The other woman? Hailey. Pregnant and smug. Joe actually got on his knees, begging for a divorce. I said yes. Until I could find a place, Joe's mom, Claudia, let me stay at the house. "Hailey," Claudia said, "you'll handle all the household responsibilities now." Hailey, all fake enthusiasm, chirped, "I'll take good care of this family!" Claudia replied, "Great. You'll start your day at five making breakfast. When Luca's hungry, you'll feed him and change his diapers. Once he's down for a nap, clean the house, grocery shop, and prep lunch. Laundry in the afternoon, tea service mid-day, then bathe Luca and cook dinner. After that, you'll put him to bed." Hailey's face? Priceless.

After a heart-pounding hunt, the pack gathered under the full moon for a celebration. Because of my contribution, I earned the right to bathe in the Sacred Spring and feast on the Stag King's meat. Just as I was about to take a bite, Emily Carter yanked it from my plate. "This isn't for you!" she snapped. In the pack, our roles were similar, but I outperformed her at every turn. She had been targeting me for months. I ignored her and reached for another piece, sliding it into my mouth. "Are you even listening to me?" she screamed, charging at me. Her hand shot up, ready to slap me. The next second, I grabbed her wrist and tossed her aside. Emily landed on the ground with a growl, her face twisted in fury. "You arrogant little wench! My father is the great Alpha King, Hyde Sullivan! How dare you?" she continued, her voice cracking with rage. "I'm revoking your Sacred Spring privileges!" I pressed a hand to my mouth, letting out a quiet laugh. Hyde was my uncle, and he never had offspring. I was his only successor.