Family Problem Story

The maid's daughter, who grew up in my home, had the nerve to act like an heiress. On her birthday, she invited every kid from school for a full-on rager at my family's villa. When I suggested they take it to a hotel, she lost it. "You don't get to tell me what to do! My friends can party wherever they want!" She added, "The ten-layer cake my parents ordered for me is on the way. Why don't you park yourself by the door and wait for it, huh?" Her crew circled up, laughing and pointing at me. But I'd lived through this before. Nothing about her little act rattled me. I turned to the butler and told him to lock the gate. Then, I went to Rambo's cage. "Hey, buddy," I said, opening it up. "See those trespassers?" I pointed at the crowd. "I'm counting to three. If they're still here, don't let a single one get away."

At the annual gala, my father had me marry Asher Ziegler, a rising star in the finance industry whom he had groomed. Back then, I, Maddison Gruber, had no idea that Asher was in love with someone else. Sometime later, my father's company is investigated for product fraud, and his company's stock plummets. He even faces criminal charges. When this happens, Asher immediately brings his first love, Cora Singer, home and tells me outright that he is going to make her his legally wedded wife. My mother-in-law admonishes me. "Your family's bankrupt now, and you're completely barren! Why shouldn't my son remarry?" Asher slides a divorce agreement in front of me, his tone condescending. "Sign this, and I can let you stay here and live alongside Cora." But I say nothing. I merely quietly book a ticket to leave this place. In seven days, I will be following my father down south.

I've been married to my Mafia Boss husband for 15 years. When we first got married, he couldn't even afford a ring, but I didn't care; I loved him. I hid my identity. I secretly used my family's influence to help him build his empire from scratch, and I even bore him two children. His adopted sister always mocked me, calling me an old-fashioned housewife and saying I wasn't good enough for him. To avoid embarrassing him, I always endured it. Until our 15th anniversary, because both me and his adopted sister wore red dresses, he told me to stay in the kitchen: "Sofia's right. That red doesn't suit you. Don't come out until the banquet actually ends. Stay in the kitchen. I don't need the Dons from New York seeing you and getting the wrong impression." I was completely heartbroken and didn't argue anymore. I dialed a number I hadn't made in 15 years: "Principessa?" "It's me," I said, my voice steady. "Tell those old fossils on the Council... Isabella Corleone is coming home."

During a kindergarten parent-teacher conference, a rich wife accuses me of stealing her bag. I'm baffled. I bought the bag myself abroad, and it even has my name etched on it. However, when I scrutinize the bag, I discover that my name is missing. I call my husband, and he impatiently says, "I gave your bag to Jen. She's fresh out of college and needs an expensive bag to make herself look good. Even Finn said the bag is too young for you—it suits Jen more. You're too old for these things. You should be glad to even have a fake one." I bark out an exasperated laugh. I can go without having a husband, but the bag has to be returned to me.

My older sister Katie said she missed me and requested I visit her. The second day at her place, the apocalyptic heatwave arrived. I fought tooth and nail in the supermarket for food and coolant—she told me I'm shameless and have no self-respect. I offered a high price in the community chat for supplies—she sneered at me and said that anything stored for so long must be disgusting, contaminated by bacteria. Yet, she threw herself into the arms of the man living across the hallway just for a bit of food. While cuddled in his arms, she watched me die in the heatwave. When I opened my eyes again, I heard her on the phone saying she missed me. Well, keep on missing me!

My husband's parents are dead. He says I'm now his sister's mother figure and need to care for her like she's my daughter. I work myself to the bone to feed her and pay for her expenses, but she's not happy with that. "My classmates drive to school and have trips abroad, Lorey. Can't you work a little harder?" She takes my car away and treats me like a maid. That's still not enough for her, though. When she finds out that I'm pregnant, she threatens to take her life. "You said you would care for me like I'm your daughter. I won't let you give someone else what's supposed to be mine!" I curse her in my heart. Who gave her the nerve to act like this?

Just before the weapons design competition, my design schematics mysteriously go missing. Since I no longer have anything to submit, I'm disqualified from the competition. Meanwhile, my older sister, Camilla Cassano, steals the show with my designs. She gets what she wants, which is to marry the next don of the Carbone family—and the man I've had a crush on since I was a child—Leon Carbone. When she brags about it to me, I don't kick up a fuss. Instead, I calmly wish her the best. In my previous life, I'd chosen to expose her on the spot. I seized back the glory that was meant to be mine and married Leon. I thought that was the start of my happiness, but it turned out to be the beginning of my nightmare. Leon had always been in love with Camilla. Throughout our five years of marriage, I was made to slave away like a robot and spend all my time researching. In the end, I was blown to pieces in an explosion triggered by sheer exhaustion. Now that I'm back in time, I personally deliver Camilla to Leon's side, and I marry Don Lorenzo Marra, the notoriously ruthless womanizer. Everyone waits to watch me sink into the depths of despair, rueing my every decision. I'm the only one who knows just how powerful the man, so misunderstood by the world, truly is.

My sister is diagnosed with leukemia after a medical checkup at the hospital where I work. My bone marrow is a match for her. Out of curiosity, I tell my family I'm the one who's sick. They vehemently oppose to her donating her bone marrow to me. "A bone marrow donation is risky! We can't let your sister put herself in danger." "Don't drag your sister into this just because you're sick. Everyone's life and death is fated—you have to accept your destiny." My sister also refuses to help me, brushing me off with the excuse that she's preparing to conceive. My relationship with my family is strained, so their behavior thoroughly destroys it. When I realize this, I leave the diagnosis report behind and walk out on them.

Whenever Rachel Cooper loses it, I know I'm about to get divorced again. I close my eyes. "We are divorcing for the ninth time." Marcus Miller massages his temples and says regretfully, "Vivian, Barry died all of a sudden, leaving his wife and her unborn baby behind. I can't ignore them. Relax. Once the baby's born, we'll remarry. We won't separate ever again!" I remain silent. I already heard this promise eight times before. Barry Miller's sudden death is the reason for Rachel's breakdown. It also caused Marcus and me to divorce for the first time. Back then, Rachel was already pregnant, prompting Marcus to divorce me. He will remarry me once he has comforted her. Over the past nine months, we have married and divorced eight times. Everyone mocks me by calling me the Eight-Ring Wonder. I also find it ridiculous. After I accept the divorce certificate, one of the court staff secretly asks me, "When are you getting married again?" I answer calmly, "There's no next time."

I return to my hometown after becoming the wealthiest person in the world. I stand beside a luxury car I bought for my father and call him—I want him to be surprised when he picks me up. However, this backfires on me. I joke with him and tell him my company has gone bankrupt. My debtors are coming after me, so I'm home to flee from them. I end up standing under the sweltering sun until the sky goes dark and it starts to pour—my father never shows up to see his gift. I brave the rain as I head home. Before I even enter the house, I can sense my sister-in-law's panic. "Listen to me—don't tell that jinx that Dad has just won a million dollars!" My mother says, "I knew having a daughter was a bad decision. It's bad enough that she doesn't have money for us—why is she coming home when she's in trouble? She should just die out there!" My father sneers. "Well, we can sell her off to that cripple in the village. Maybe she'll fetch a good price!"