Hypocrisy

My childhood sweetheart tanked his startup and racked up millions in debt. He begged for my help, so I dropped out of college and sold liquor to keep him afloat. Ten years later, he proposed to me. I thought we'd made it through the worst until I saw his chatting records with his buddies. [Lorelei is pushing 30. Too old and too used up for you.] [Who knows if she earned that debt money by slinging drinks or something else?] [Besides, what about your kid with your secretary?]

Jason Reed had been my boyfriend for seven years. He suddenly disappeared, and the last place I was able to trace him was Melvaris. That night, I received a video call. In it, a man holding an electric baton yelled, “Bring 50 million dollars as ransom to the industrial zone. Otherwise, don’t expect him to return alive.” Jason was beside the man. He was covered in blood. He pleaded desperately, “Clara! Save me! They promise to let me go if we give them the money!” Without thinking twice, I did as I was told. However, when I arrived, I was drugged and knocked unconscious. In the end, I was tortured to death. What hurt the most was not that. Jason took one-third of the ransom I had prepared. Then, he returned to Caldovia and married Hannah Blake, the student who had received financial assistance from my family. But when I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day he went missing.

After my boyfriend, Mitchell Cooper, finds out that I've spent 300 thousand dollars on a mug, he demands that I buy his mother a single-level apartment that's worth eight million dollars in the heart of the city. Naturally, I turn his ridiculous demand down in a roundabout way. But this sets him off instead. "Don't be so stingy! My mom will become your mom in the future! What's wrong with showering her with gifts in advance?" Afterward, he records all our expenses that have taken place during our relationship on presentation slides and tells me that we have to split them up. "If you think splitting up our expenses is a troublesome thing to do, then you might as well imburse all of them. You're the rich one, after all. "I've already discussed everything with my family. We'll only give you one dollar as a form of wedding gift. It means 'the only one,' which sounds amazing, right?" Upon noticing my lack of response, Mitchell issues the ultimatum right away. "If you refuse to accept these conditions, then we can call off the wedding. You've already dated me for so many years. I'd like to see if anyone wants a second-hand woman like you." I stare at the long list of expenses that need to be split. I even catch sight of the two-dollar Uber fees that were charged when Mitchell came to look for me in the past. With a smile on my face, I reply, "Okay, then. I don't want a single cent from you in terms of wedding gifts. I'll buy your mom that apartment right now."

On the day of my divorce, my ex-mother-in-law updates her social media with a photo. It's my husband's mistress' ultrasound—she's pregnant. Their friends and family congratulate her. Meanwhile, I share a premarital medical report. It belongs to her son, Owen Wade. It also clearly indicates he has congenital necrospermia. There's no way I'll want a man who can't have kids!

I went to pick up my older brother who was out at a gathering. That was when I overheard him ask Nathan, "Haven't you been dating someone? It's been so long, and I still haven't met her." I suddenly tensed up. Nathan and I had been together for three years, but we had always kept it a secret, so no one knew. Nathan replied lazily, "She's not my girlfriend, just a pastime. It's not like I plan to marry her." I clenched my fists and pushed the door open without hesitation.

Every other student could hear the inner thoughts of Chloe Yates, the campus belle. It was like a radio station was broadcasting her mind, and unfortunately for me, the broadcast was usually bad news. It started during the ROTC courses in our freshman year. I was doubled over with terrible period cramps and asked to sit out. Chloe just shook her head, letting out a dramatic, pitying sigh. "Oh, this is awful," her internal voice broadcast to everyone. "Should I tell everyone the truth? Sylvie is totally faking it. If the sergeant finds out she's lying, he's going to punish the whole class because of her." The sergeant, hearing her thoughts, immediately assumed I was a liar. He forced the entire class to run 30 laps as punishment. After that, no one would talk to me. Later, when I applied for the need-based financial aid grant, Chloe went on a rampage with her internal thoughts. "Her family isn't poor!" her voice screamed in everyone's heads. "They have a car and a house. She's just vain. She's trying to scam the college out of grant money so she can buy a new phone. I feel so bad for the actual poor kid whose spot she's stealing." Once the class heard that, they silently agreed to vote against my application. Without that money, I had no choice but to work three part-time jobs just to survive. I worked myself into the ground until I finally gave out. I collapsed in the classroom while clutching my chest, suffering a massive heart attack. I cried out, begging my classmates to call 911. However, Chloe's voice cut through the air right then. "She doesn't have a heart condition. She's pregnant. She's trying to trick a guy into taking her to the hospital so she can get an abortion, and then she's going to frame whoever helps her for getting her knocked up." Terrified of being blamed, the students backed away from me like I was radioactive. They stood there and watched as I died on the classroom floor. Right up until the moment I died, I never understood why my life had turned into such a nightmare. However, when I snapped my eyes open, I had returned to the day of the ROTC courses. The cramps were back, and the sun was beating down on me. Chloe did not know one crucial detail. This time, I could hear her thoughts too.

I'm a major suspect in the in-law murder case in Nexford. My husband, Roland Turner, also known as the police chief, personally arrests me. During my trial, the murderer commits yet another murder. The latest victims are killed once again using the same brutal method. Roland kneels on the floor while begging me to tell him the truth. I answer him that I have no idea what it is. At the same time, the victims' families keep screaming at me, wanting to skin me alive for my crimes. Three months later, Roland brings a Memory Decryptor with him. He finds me near a pile of trash. With trembling hands, he pierces two thin needles through my temples. "I'm so sorry, Wendy. I know you're not the murderer, but I just want this slaughterfest to end. I don't want to see anyone else die again. "We can also use this chance to show your memories to everyone. That way, we can find out what the actual truth is." But once he views my memories, he suffers from an emotional breakdown and sinks to his knees.

My five-year-old daughter loved telling lies. I had taken her out to a simple school supplies run, but she yelled on the street that I was a human trafficker. Consequently, I nearly got arrested and taken to the police station. When we went home, she cried and threw herself in my husband’s arms to complain about me before I could say anything. “Dad, Mom wouldn’t buy me stationeries. She even hit me on the street!” I offered my husband an explanation. He heard me out, but I did not expect him to angrily slap me when I was finished. “Our daughter is only five. She can’t lie. Can’t you just put up with it?!” When I drove my daughter to school, she got down on her knees in front of me while the other parents were around. “Mom, please let me go to school. I don’t want to take naked photos for those guys.” When the teacher checked my phone, it was full of my daughter’s explicit photos. A mob of angry parents pushed me into the traffic, killing me. I could not figure out why my biological daughter would behave that way, even as I lay dying. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day when I was about to buy stationery for my daughter.

My Alpha mate Derek secretly inherited his sister-in-law Sarah after his brother's death. On the surface, I was his Luna, but in reality, Sarah was the one who truly held his heart. He praised me as the most exceptional Luna, tasking me with caring for all pack members, yet when Sarah tended to an injured male wolf, his jealousy flared so violently that he bit off the poor wolf's paw. In public, he proclaimed me as his beloved Luna to the entire pack, while keeping Sarah hidden safely in the shadows. When enemy wolves kidnapped me after discovering my identity, I desperately reached out through our mind link, begging for help. His response cut deeper than any physical wound: "Olivia, Sarah is carrying my pup. We'll tell everyone it's my brother's son. I must protect her and the baby without leaving her side for even a moment." "Just endure for a few days. Once Sarah's morning sickness improves, I'll lead all our warriors to rescue you." In the days that followed, I sent countless pleas for help through our link, but received nothing in return. Eventually, our connection shattered completely. For an entire year, those wolves imprisoned and tortured me. They broke my hind legs and ripped out my fangs, stripping me of my wolf's dignity. Derek never came for me. When I finally escaped and stumbled back to our territory, blood-soaked and broken, I discovered my daughter locked in the silver prison where rogue wolves were kept. She was being torn apart as food, her small body covered in wounds. Meanwhile, my mate—my pup's father—was joyfully celebrating the first birthday of his and Sarah's pup, announcing that Sarah's child would become the pack's heir. Tears streaming down my face, I gathered my skeletal little pup in my arms. "It’s OK, sweetie. I'll find you a better dad."

My in-laws, who have flown back to the country for the Christmas holidays, visit my home on Christmas Eve for dinner. But Selena Collins, the housekeeper, has only prepared two plates of cold shrimp ravioli despite the fact that I've specifically reminded her about my mother-in-law, Lora Fischer's allergy to shrimps. Selena just tells me in a stoic manner, "Mrs. Peterson, I know that you country bumpkins love taking advantage of everything. So, I completely understand that your parents want to mooch off a meal from the Peterson family during the holidays. "But as Mr. Peterson's most caring housekeeper, I have the right to protect the Petersons' assets from getting leeched by outsiders. Yes, this includes a regular meal. "Then again, I have a heart of gold, you see. I won't starve the elders at all. These are leftover shrimp ravioli from last year. Your parents should hurry up and leave after polishing the ravioli off. "Mr. Peterson is very busy with his work. I can't let him deal with your impoverished parents after getting home from a stressful day at work." I'm stunned at first, but I soon realize that Selena has mistaken my in-laws for my parents. She's purposefully causing me trouble as always. I'm about to explain the truth to Selena when I see my enraged in-laws turning to leave. But Selena wastes no time in calling the bodyguards over to stop them. "I completely understand that country bumpkins like you two have poor character, but wasting food is a really bad trait. "Since the shrimp ravioli is already prepared for you, please finish them all before leaving."