Freddy Fazbear Pizza Real Story

I'm an heiress who's been bound to a gossip system. Everyone reads my mind on my first day back home after being reunited with my family. "Mom sure has done a good job of maintaining her beauty. It's no wonder she became an OnlyFans streamer after divorcing Dad." My mother is about to berate me for something, but she pales and stops when she hears my thoughts. I glance at the fake heiress, who's weeping pitifully. "My, she's pregnant. Is it John's or Zach's?" My two brothers exchange odd looks. Then, my father arrives. I cluck my tongue. "Oh, it's Dad's."

My mother claims my husband has cheated on me and pushes me to get a divorce. I want to collect evidence before proceeding with anything—if it's true, I have to uphold my rights. Yet she causes a scene at an art exhibition I've worked on for three years, humiliating me in public and making me sound like a gold digger. "How are you any different from a prostitute when you're holding this dumb exhibition with a man's money? I didn't raise you to be a gold digger! How can you be so revolting?" She slashes the million-dollar paintings in the exhibition, claiming that she's doing this for my good. She wants me to see the error of my ways and return to the right path. Meanwhile, I clutch my bloody hand, which she slashed with her blade. I say, "You say you want me to return to the right path, but is that what it really is? You want me to divorce my legally wedded husband, who's a CEO, without a penny to my name. "Then, you want me to marry a 45-year-old cheap man who has a child and no money? He even wants me to support him!"

The day before New Year's, my younger brother announced he was bringing his girlfriend home for dinner. Excited, I drove my new car to pick them up, taking my daughter along with me. However, as soon as his girlfriend got in the car, her face darkened. "Henry, you didn't tell me your sister was staying at your place—and with a kid!" she snapped. I frowned and was about to explain when my brother quickly interjected, "She's not staying. After dropping us off, she'll be heading to a hotel." Only then did his girlfriend's expression ease. I swallowed my discomfort and asked my brother what he was planning. He leaned in with a conspiratorial grin and said, "Sis, don't cause any trouble for me, okay? My girlfriend is the daughter of the Cromwell Group's CEO!" My eyes widened in shock. Was not the Cromwell Group the same company my ex-husband had just handed over to me as part of our divorce settlement?

On my 50th wedding anniversary, I took my worn, crumbling marriage certificate to City Hall to renew it. The clerk glanced at it—and froze. “This certificate is fake. Our records show you’ve never been married.” I stared. “Impossible. I’ve been married to Damien Slater for fifty years.” The clerk pulled up his file. “Well…Yes, Mr. Slater is married—but his wife’s name is Vanessa Grant.” Vanessa. His widowed sister-in-law. A military doctor who’d spent decades living among the troops. My hands shook as I returned home and confronted Damien. He didn’t even try to deny it. “I’ve treated you well all these years. Isn’t that enough? Vanessa is my true love. I only ever wanted her—our children, our life.” My son counseled me and said, “To spare your feelings, my parents kept it a secret their whole lives. You’re getting old now. What more do you want?” Only then did I learn the truth. The child I had raised with my own hands was never mine by blood. Decades ago, Vanessa and I gave birth on the same day. To ensure her child would grow up with intellect, privilege, and a future that I could provide, Damien switched our children. My own son? Damien drowned him in the pond the moment he drew breath. And I—fool that I was—raised Vanessa’s boy as my own. I even got him all the way to Claremont University. The truth broke me, and I collapsed. When I opened my eyes again—I was back. Back to the day I went into labor.

At one of the exclusive private casino parties, my eyes landed on a diamond tiara. The catch? It was the prize for a high-stakes blackjack game. Luckily, poker happens to be one of my many sins. A girl named Elara—whom I once pitied enough to introduce to Throne, hoping she’d land a job—has now declared she wants the tiara too. Naïve. Probably thought beginner’s luck was a real thing. I figured, fine. Let the cards decide. If I win, I walk away with the tiara. If I lose, I’ll find another way to soothe my pride. Easy enough. Thorne, my ever-watchful husband, leaned in and murmured, “Go easy on her.” I didn’t. I won. Beat the dealer faster than her and won the tiara. That girl cried at the table. Thorne didn’t look impressed for once. He rather seemed... irritated. I thought it was for Elara’s sake. Turns out, it was for mine. A year later, same party, different stakes. The grand prize? My own sex video. While holding Elara in his arms, my husband said to me, voice almost amusing, “Don’t you like winning prizes? Then go on. Win our sex tape back.”

I was New York’s golden girl, the perfect princess. But for three years, I loved a monster, Don Damien Costello. I finally got the courage to propose. And I found him kissing another woman, Sophia Marcelli, the princess of our rival family. "I'm bored with you, my perfect little doll. I need a real queen. Sophia is the only one fit to be by my side." All of New York was talking. Damien Costello had tossed me aside. So I moved on, Found another man. Left my old self behind. We kissed in a cramped elevator. I did something I'd never dared to do. I just never expected the doors to open. And there he was. My ex. Don Damien. His face was pure murder.

Pagkatapos ideklara ng doktor na brain dead ang anak kong si Mia Powell, kinumbinsi ako ng asawa kong si Liam Powelle na pirmahan ang organ donation consent form. Kasalukuyan ako noong nalulunod sa pagdadalamhati at malapit na ring mawala ang katinuan sa aking isipan. Dito ko aksidenteng nadiskubre na ang doktor ng aking anak na si Blair Lincoln ay ang dating kasintahan ng aking asawa. Nagsinungaling sila sa pagiging brain dead ni Mia para pirmahan ko ang form at makuha ang puso nito na kanilang gagamitin para mailigtas ang anak ni Blair na si Sophia. Pinanood ko ang pagsundo ni Liam kay Sophia sa ospital. Nakangiting umalis ang mga ito para bang isa silang perpekto at masayang pamilya. Nang kumprontahin ko ang mga ito, agad nila akong itinulak para mahulog mula sa isang building na siyang ikinamatay ko. Nang mabigyan ako ng ikalawang pagkakataon, bumalik ako sa araw kung kailan ko dapat pirmahan ang organ donation form. Tahimik akong nangako habang tinititigan ko ang nakahigang si Mia kaniyang hospital bed. Buhay ang sisingilin ko sa lalaking iyon at sa ex nito nang dahil sa ginawa nila kay Mia.

When Roxy showed up at my engagement party to Ian, wearing a dress from the same collection as mine, I knew the marriage wasn’t going anywhere.  The daughter of a homewrecker, Roxy would steal Ian from me just like how her mother took my dad from my mother. However, I'm not letting her get away with it.  Before anybody knew, I trashed my own engagement party and skipped town. I was done playing games.

I lapse into unconsciousness for a few days after a high fever. When I wake up, I see my boyfriend and his best friend standing by my bed. I want to enliven the atmosphere, so I joke, "Who are you?" Eric Cobb, my boyfriend, is taken aback. I almost laugh at the look on his face. Then, he points at his friend, Jonah Mullen. "Don't you remember? Your boyfriend's been panicking over you. As his best friend, I have to be here with him." This time, I'm the one who's taken aback. Unexpectedly, Jonah steps forward and says, "That's right. I'm your boyfriend, Jonah Mullen."

On the highway, a chain-reaction crash happened out of nowhere. I was left with a fractured skull, barely hanging on. When my husband—who's a well-known respiratory specialist—showed up, he didn't even look at me. He rushed past, straight to his first love. She had nothing more than a scrape on her arm. I tried to call out for help, but he just turned and looked at me like I was being dramatic. "You're fine. Don't act like you're so fragile," he snapped, brushing me off like my pain didn't matter. At the hospital, things only got worse. He used his position to get every bit of attention, monopolizing the medical staff, and as my supposed sole family member, he signed the papers to abandon my treatment. "It's just a fractured skull," he said, sounding totally calm. "Save the woman in my arms first. She's a renowned painter. She's more important." As I started to lose consciousness, his muttered words cut through the fog, "You're better off dead. We don't want anyone knowing about Leona's drunk driving."