Good Online Puzzle Games

I went to exactly one party in my new, wealthy neighborhood. Then my neighbor Brenda sued me. In court, she held her bruised and battered daughter, Tiffany. She accused my son of rape. Mid-hearing, Tiffany tugged her collar down. Red marks circled her neck. "He tried to rip my pants off," she sobbed. "He tried to force himself on me. I fought back. So he beat me. He ruined my face!" Outside the courthouse, protesters held up signs, calling my son a piece of trash, a spoiled rich kid. Online, a photoshopped memorial of me went viral. The caption read: The unfit mother should die with her son. My company’s stock plummeted. But I just sat there. Stone-faced. I asked for my son, Cooper, to be brought in. The courtroom doors opened. Cooper walked in. Everyone froze.

My older sister, Marissa Lipton, found out that I had been dating someone online. She immediately exposed the matter to our parents. Little did they realize that the person I'd been dating was actually Xander Lorne, the heir to one of the most prestigious families in Belhorn. Since then, my parents treated me a lot better than before. I successfully married into the Lorne family, too. As for Marissa, she was forced to marry the man my parents had originally picked out for me, who was infamous for being a domestic abuser. Her life had been filled with pain and beatings since then. I, on the other hand, lived a lavish and extremely comfortable life. As a high-society wife, I was also admired and envied by all. So, Marissa decided to run me over with her car. When I wake up again, I see Marissa secretly jotting down my online partner's contact number. That's how I find out she has gotten reborn as well. Haughtily, Marissa declares that she will rise to the ranks of the elite and crush me under her heel in this life. What she doesn't know is that the "elite heir" from the previous life is a gift I've painstakingly prepared for her.

The owner of a small company gives me an expensive bag as a gift because I want to invest in his company, yet his wife mistakes me for a homewrecker. She and her entourage crash my engagement party and trash the place. "All homewreckers need to go to hell!" "Shameless women will always be shameless. Strip her so everyone online can see what she looks like!" "Share the livestream and like it, everyone! We'll disfigure her once we hit 500 thousand likes!" Not only does my fiancé refuse to help, but he even announces that the engagement is off. "A homewrecker doesn't deserve to marry me!" I repeatedly warn them not to act rashly, but they ignore me. So, I give them each a swift punch to the gut before stepping on the perpetrator's face. Then, I call my secretary. "Tell Mr. Lane that I'm pulling out of the investment. Also, call the police and my lawyer. I've been robbed and insulted in public—I want the culprits to go to jail for this!" My fiancé regrets everything and asks me for a reconciliation, but I kick him aside. "Get lost! I'm not dumpster!"

According to company policy, anyone who achieves the feat of being the top salesperson for three years in a row will receive a thousand-square-foot apartment as a bonus. To achieve this goal, I work day and night, chasing every order I can find. But once I finally meet the criteria, I'm told that the policy has been abolished. Saul Hurst, my direct superior, brushes me off with a bonus of 500 dollars instead. Smirking at me, he says, "Being good at sales is all well and good, but you still need to improve your understanding of the company's rules and values. "Young people need to stay humble and know their place. Don't keep trying to show off. It isn't good to constantly hog the spotlight." I don't lose my temper. Instead, I manage to stay unusually calm as I took the "massive bonus" I got in exchange for three years of hard work. Two days later, our company headquarters conducts its annual sales evaluation. When one of our clients offers me a sales deal worth eight million dollars, I turn it down on the spot. After all, I believe that part of what it means to be professional is to do as my superior says. Since I'm supposed to stay humble and know my place, I've chosen to keep a low profile and not do anything that puts me under the spotlight. Besides, even if our branch fails to meet the total sales target, I'm not the one who's going to be held accountable for that.

Marshall Locke, the assistant working for my wife, Amelia Stone, leaves out three zeroes on a contract. It leads to ten million dollars in losses for the company. The factory that has collaborated with us on the project goes bankrupt, and its owner jumps off a building as a result of the situation. All Marshall does is shed a few tears, and Amelia immediately pins all the blame on me. She claims I single-handedly managed the entire project. I get sued in court, which leaves me ten million dollars in debt. When the deceased's family posts about me online, the entire internet curses me out, saying that I should die too. My entire industry blacklists me. The career I've painstakingly built up for myself is destroyed just like that. But when I confront Amelia about this, she simply looks at her freshly manicured nails and says airily, "Marshall is young and inexperienced. You've been in the business for so many years now. It's not like this has caused any damage to you." Recalling the way she and Marshall had been wrapped up in a passionate kiss before I came in, I pull out the divorce agreement I prepared in advance and toss it at her. "Sign it."

Jordan is a new adult, although he has always been a good wolf, a calm one, he's showing more dominant-alpha traits, and he's becoming more aggressive. Kicked out on a training trip to another pack land, he's stunned to find his mate, his alpha mate, but two dominant wolves can't be mates, and one of them got to submit. Let the games begin. Contains cgl and fluff. Apologies for any misspellings and grammar mistakes.

My boyfriend, Sam Gibson, had a childhood best friend named Tina Lincoln. She was a star medical student. On the day Sam and I were supposed to get our marriage license, Tina took one look at the tight top I was wearing and flat-out claimed I had been sleeping around for years. She pointed at my chest with obvious disgust. “If men hadn’t been all over you, there’s no way your breasts would be this big.” Sam believed her completely. He started cursing at me, calling me a slut who had sleep with anyone, and refused to go through with the marriage license. I tried over and over to explain, but Tina just sneered at me. “People may be more open-minded these days, but that doesn’t mean you can sell your body and make your chest that big.” She used me as some kind of “example,” started a livestream to lecture people online, and exposed all my personal information. After that, strangers kept sending me disgusting, harassing messages, asking how much I charged for a night. Some even followed me and tried to force themselves on me. I begged her to clear things up for me, but she just shrugged and said, “If you never did that kind of thing, why would people be asking you?” In the end, I was assaulted and killed. And she went on to become a nationally famous influencer doctor, gaining fame and money at the same time. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I was supposed to get my marriage license with Sam.

My husband's childhood friend, Ayna Sweeney, has a compulsive sexual behavior disorder. To maintain her pure image, she secretly uses black magic to transfer part of her desire onto me. She seduces my husband, Eric Morgan, and has an affair with him, while I am overwhelmed by uncontrollable urges. I grab men on the street and beg them to sleep with me. Meanwhile, she is praised across the internet as a pure and innocent lady. After my disgraceful behavior is caught on camera and spreads online, Eric is furious and turns the blame on me. He scolds, "I've been busy lately and haven't been home much. Yet, you, the wife of the richest man, have no sense of shame at all!" I cry and tell him I've been set up by Ayna, but he dismisses it. He retorts, "Ayna and I grew up together. I know her better than you do! Just because you're jealous, you come up with such ridiculous accusations. How evil of you!" But every time the two of them secretly meet up, I lose control and desperately seek out anyone to quell my thirst for intimacy. I become a woman despised by everyone in high society. At a lavish banquet, I even start taking off my clothes in public and end up beaten to death by furious high society wives. When I open my eyes again, I am back to the day they first begin their affair.

My best friend called me sobbing at two in the morning, saying she owed three hundred thousand dollars in online loans and was begging me to save her life. I told her I'd help cover half. She grabbed my phone and transferred all three hundred thousand. "It's just money—why are you being so stingy? You make six figures. Helping me out shouldn't be a big deal." I swallowed it. A month later, she posted Maldives vacation photos on Instagram. When I asked when she planned to pay me back, she replied—right there in the comments, where every mutual friend could see— "God, stop nagging. Maybe spend that energy making more money instead, you cheapskate. So annoying." I screenshotted everything. Then I opened the civil complaint I'd already drafted. This kind of best friend? We could catch up in court.

In my last life, my in-laws "died," and my so-called DINK husband, Eric, begged me to raise his sweet little "brother," Luca. Seven years flew by. That scrawny kid turned into a total cutie and blew up online—pulling in tens of thousands a month. Then one night, boom—Eric's parents came back from the dead. And with them? Tammy. Eric's first love. She clung to Eric with one hand, Luca with the other, all smug as hell. "I've been traveling for seven years. I'm tired. And wow, what a perfect son—thanks for raising him." Eric's parents didn't even pretend to care. "You couldn't give Eric a kid, but at least you were useful this once." "Sign the divorce papers. Make room for Tammy." I walked out of that law firm wrecked—and right into the path of a speeding car. Tammy was behind the wheel, smiling like she won. Next thing I knew, I woke up on the same day Eric's parents had "died."