Hypocrisy Meaning

I died on my birthday, but neither my parents nor my husband noticed. They were too busy pouring all their attention into planning my twin sister, Esme Shaw's, birthday party. While she was surrounded by people helping her pick out a gown, I was tied up and thrown into the basement. With what little strength I had left, I forced my broken fingers to press in the code—9395. It was a signal my husband, Edwin Grant, and I had once agreed on. It was a straightforward way to call for help in the event of danger. I never thought I would actually need it one day. But when I sent it, he didn't believe me. His reply was cold, "Claudia, just because I didn't take you shopping for a new dress, you've decided to put on a show? "You can still wear last year's gown. Stop making trouble. I'll see you at the party later." What he didn't know was that Esme had already shredded that gown into pieces. And what he couldn't imagine was that the moment after he hung up, I was already gone. So, when the celebration began, I never appeared. But when everyone saw the birthday gift I had prepared for Esme ahead of time, the entire room lost its mind.

To teach me to behave, my parents forged a paternity test and declared I was not their biological son. My sister ignored my pleas and had me committed to a psychiatric hospital. "You troublemaker, why don't you just die?" they sneered. Even the fiancée I loved most watched with icy eyes and used her connections to make sure I suffered inside. After five years, I finally knew how to keep my head down. So why did they suddenly demand I return to the arrogant heir I once was?

In the five years of their marriage, Kimberly bore a son for Daniel, believing their life together would last. Then Siena returned to the country. Kimberly finally realized she was nothing but an outsider the whole time. Daniel repeatedly chose Siena over her, and even her son grew attached to Siena. Fortunately, their marriage was just a contract, and in seven days, she would be free to leave.

After being reborn, I decided to write my sister's name on the marriage application. This time, I would help Sebastian Holt achieve his wishes. In this lifetime, I took the lead—I let my sister wear the wedding dress first and put the engagement ring on her finger. I personally orchestrated every encounter between Sebastian and my sister. When he took her to the capital city, I headed to Southport University without a second thought. In my previous life, even when I was over 50 years old, he and our son still knelt before me, begging for a divorce. This time, I would fulfill his final romantic destiny with my sister. Living this second life, all I wanted was to spread my wings and soar high, free from love's entanglements.

Donna Sofia Marino's birthday is held on Valentine's Day. When Francesco Rossi, the Underboss of the Costa family, announces the news on behalf of Don Enzo Costa, everyone in the family is very happy. Well, everyone but me. As expected, Francesco is quick to add, "Someone needs to guard the headquarters. Camilla, you'll be the one in charge of this task." "What the Underboss means is that you don't really carry out any missions in your daily life. Besides, you have tons of spare time anyway. This time, you are to guard the headquarters so that you can deal with any emergencies that might arise." I just smirk sarcastically. The truth is, I'm always the one dealing with the most dangerous matters concerning the Costa family. The transactions of the firearms worth hundreds of millions of dollars are successfully carried out thanks to the plan I've spent countless sleepless nights perfecting. When a crossfire breaks out, I'm always on the frontlines, fighting for the family's glory despite getting injured. While I'm given the title as the executive director, I'm never given any actual power. In truth, my standing is lower than that of a soldato. I'm always the one carrying out the hardest, the most menial, not to mention the most dangerous tasks. But every time credit is given, it's never given to me. I've been enduring this injustice for five long years. This time, I no longer want to keep enduring anymore. With a smile on my face, I stand up from my seat. "Alright then, Underboss Rossi. I shall guard the headquarters. But this will be the last time I ever do this. After this task is completed, I will officially leave the Costa family once and for all."

My brother and I get into a car accident. My heart is ruptured—I need emergency surgery. But my mother, the hospital director, calls every available doctor… to my brother's room. He only has a few scrapes, yet she orders a full-body scan for him while I lie there bleeding out. I beg her to help me, but she snaps, visibly annoyed, "Can't you stop fighting for attention for once? Your brother almost injured a bone!" In the end, I die on the operating table. But after the news of my death breaks, my mother, who has always hated me, completely loses her mind.

My girlfriend, Camille Chaney, gets pregnant right before the college entrance exam starts. In my previous life, I gave up on my college entrance exam and married Camille. We had a son together. Life might be nitty-gritty, but it was still rather fulfilling for me. When I was on my deathbed, Camille and her first love, Howard Salter, dropped by to visit me. "Thank you for raising our son for more than 20 years. Now, you may die in peace." Camille pulled the plug on my life support at that moment. She watched as I slowly suffocated to death. When I open my eyes again, I find out that I've returned to the timeframe when the college entrance exam is about to take place. This time, I slam the door shut in Camille's face when I hear her asking me to take responsibility for her pregnancy. "Go find someone else to play house with you. I'm not interested in becoming a father at all."

My fiancé is one of the country's top neurosurgeons. One day, he discovers that his childhood sweetheart has been diagnosed with cancer and only has a month to live. He wants to spend this time with her, so he feeds me a newly developed memory-wiping drug to make me forget him for a month. During that time, he throws his childhood sweetheart a wedding and goes on a honeymoon with her. As they stand amid an ocean of flowers, they vow to be together in another lifetime. One month later, he kneels before me in the rain. Tears stream down his face as he says hoarsely, "The drug's effects were only supposed to last for a month. Why have you permanently forgotten me?"

I was married to Chad Caldwell for ten years. I met all his girlfriends during our marriage. Whenever he got bored and wanted to move on, I was his best excuse. "If you marry me, you'll end up like her. Too familiar and no spark left." On our anniversary, I wiped tears for his latest ex, a college girl, while he was at the movies with his new fling. She used up a pack of tissues, and I seemed to see my old self in her. Afterward, I asked Chad for a divorce. He was confused. "Why not wait a bit? Maybe I'll turn over a new leaf." I gave a faint smile but said nothing. Instead, I booked a plane ticket and flew across the ocean. If he wouldn't turn around, I'd take the first step.

The day my husband, Lucas Maxwell, helps his childhood sweetheart—Cecilia Brown, who has cancer—lose her virginity, I leave behind a divorce agreement and walk away. Before I leave, I drop a comment beneath a photo of them on his social media. Their fingers are tightly interlocked in the photo. "Let's get divorced. I wish you both a lifetime of happiness." A minute later, he calls me. "How did I end up marrying someone as selfish as you, Fiona Sinclair? Do you really have the heart to let her die without leaving anything behind?" I sneer, "You're no longer my husband. How is that my problem?" That's when he panics.