Good On Paper

I was the hospital's top surgeon. After three successful surgeries, Medical Affairs decided to reprimand me in front of the whole hospital and canceled my bonus for the month. I argued with the head of Medical Affairs. "I've been working for this place for ten years, and I've always been the first to do everything! I went through five surgeries nonstop last year and had to go through one myself for exhaustion! What did I do to deserve this?" Yes, I was the top surgeon, but the bills were stressing me out, too. My husband had just lost his job, and I had to pay for the car, the mortgage, and our kid's extracurriculars. The burden I had to shoulder wasn't an easy one. So, I was counting on that bonus to get my kid into a basketball club, and now it had been taken away from me. This couldn't be happening! I couldn't believe that they were blaming me for a successful surgery! I was high up in the hierarchy here, so the department head didn't start a fallout right away. Instead, he tried to calm me down. "You drank two bags of IV during the late-night surgery and charged the patients for it. Their family's complaining about unfair fees, and it went viral. We had no choice!" That reminded me. That surgery was a complex one, and it wasn't even supposed to be assigned to me. After all, I'd been working around the operating table for 36 hours prior to that. However, it was the deputy director who came to me and insisted that I take over. I had no choice but to go ahead.

After an earthquake, my sister and I help to rescue the victims. I save a wealthy woman who adopts me as her daughter. I become the sole heiress to an astronomical fortune. My sister saves a regular person. All she gets as thanks is a few thousand dollars. She thinks life is unfair and drags me to die with her. When I open my eyes again, I'm looking at the debris from the earthquake. This time, my sister rushes to save the wealthy woman. She says smugly, "It's my turn to be a rich heiress!"

At the end of the year, I went to the spa and discovered a stranger had been using my VIP card. When I logged into my personal profile, the last three treatment records were not under my name. The preference section listed specific details about someone else. She was allergic to rose essential oil, preferred lavender, and her heating pad temperature could not exceed 108 degrees Fahrenheit. Her menstrual cycle fell around the 15th of each month, so no waist or abdomen treatments during that time. I stared at the screen, my palms turning cold. Only my husband, Zachary White, knew this password. At the time, he said he needed it to check the balance and renew my membership. I scrolled down and found a system note at the bottom: [Birthday treatment reserved for December 30, prepared according to Ms. Anderson's preferences.] Today was December 30. My phone vibrated. Zachary had sent a message: [Working late tonight. Won't be home.] Familiar laughter drifted from the hallway. Through the glass door, I watched Zachary walk into the adjacent room with his arm around a woman, the beautician hurrying forward to greet them. "Mr. White, we have Ms. Anderson's birthday treatment ready, just as you requested."

My art studio caught fire. I risked my life to pull my boyfriend, Vincent Parcelle, out of the flames. Vincent wanted to rush back inside to save his first love, Tammy Reese, who was trapped inside. But I stopped him. The fire destroyed her face and left her legs amputated. Unable to face her disfigurement and disability, Tammy took her own life by overdosing on pills. Afterward, Vincent and I moved forward and got married. On our wedding night, he slit my throat without thinking twice. "If it weren't for you, Tammy wouldn't be dead. Go to hell and pay for your sins!" Only after dying did I realize—Vincent had hated me to the core ever since the fire. For some reason, I was reborn. Grateful that the heavens had given me another chance at life, I ran without looking back this time. To hell with love. I was determined to survive.

The moment Tammy, my adoptive parents’ biological daughter, was found, she began to stage the scene of a ‘real vs fake heiress’ drama. Tammy had cameras installed all over the house. Nowhere was safe, not even in the privacy of the bathroom. When one shorted out during her shower, Tammy landed herself in the hospital. Through tears, she told my parents that I was trying to get rid of her and demanded to call the cops. During a dinner out at the hotel restaurant, Tammy lost her footing and fell into the pool, all the while dragging me down. She cried and accused me of pushing her into the water. Apparently, had she not been smart enough to pull me along the ride, I would’ve gotten her killed. While our parents were away taking care of our hospital bills, Tammy snapped me an intimidating look. “I’m warning you. I’m different from the other heiresses in my position. I won’t put up with your antics. You can’t hide who you really are from Mom and Dad! “I’m going to get you kicked out of this house!” I smirked to myself. The silly girl had no idea that the wealth of the family came from me. She was no heiress once I took my riches away with me.

I was halfway through a sad cafeteria lunch when a livestream popped up: [Ring toss—whoever lands it gets the dog.] Onscreen, Alverton University's rich-boy squad cracked up, betting on who'd "own" me. Adrian Locke, the student council golden boy, flicked his ring. It landed dead center on my nameplate. "One month. Let's see which owner the little bitch wags her tail for." I closed the stream. Right then, a text from my dad lit up my phone: [Sweetheart, have you chosen your fiancé candidate?] I smirked, snapped a screenshot of the stream, and sent it. [Evaluation complete. All four disqualified.]

To rebel against my family's arranged marriage, I run away from home. Six months later, I decide to return to university and continue my studies, only to be told by a professor that Adam Richmond enrolled six months ago. Not only that, but he and my fiancée have apparently become the campus' picture-perfect couple. I go to confront him, but the woman claiming to be Adam's fiancée drives me away. "You beggar and fraud, how dare you call yourself Mr. Richmond? Besides, I am Erica Wright, the eldest daughter of the Wright family. How could I not recognize my own fiancé?" I stare at the woman before me, unable to hide my doubts. I've never met her, yet I've always heard that the eldest daughter of the Wright family is supposed to be gentle and poised. Could this proud, overbearing woman really be my fiancée?

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."

On our wedding night, my wife demanded that I wear a blindfold. She said her body was meant only for her true love. The words hit me like a bucket of ice water, and I snapped, "Are you my wife or his?" She shot back even louder, defiance blazing in her eyes. "I married you. Does that mean I have to show you my body? Coercion is still coercion, even in marriage. My body is only for Matt to see because you simply don't deserve it." Later, she said she wanted to truly be my wife. I found myself thinking she wasn't worthy anymore.

After receiving the report for an STD test, I went back to the barbeque restaurant, and there I ran into a young woman who was about three months pregnant. She asked me to let her cut in line, and, feeling sorry for her, I agreed to help her out. I quickly made arrangements for her and made sure she had a seat. But to my shock, after she finished her meal, she had a miscarriage. The girl posted about the incident online, and before I knew it, I was trending on social media, facing a wave of cyberbullying. The internet users went even further, digging up my health records and finding that everything came back positive. [She's positive for everything—she's clearly a woman with a messy private life!] [No wonder she caused the woman's miscarriage just by being near her—she's a biological hazard!] The cyberbullying got so bad that it pushed me into depression. Even my fiancé turned against me, accusing me of being filthy and breaking up with me. The emotional weight became too much, and in my pain, I drove straight into a reservoir. Meanwhile, the girl gained millions of followers online and skyrocketed to fame as a popular influencer. It was only after I died that I learned the shocking truth—this girl was my fiancé's first love. To boost her own popularity, she and my fiancé had come up with this entire scheme together. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day when she asked me to let her cut in line.