Hypocrisy

STORY SUMMARY Nhlanhla, a once-powerful billionaire, watches his life unravel after losing his job and spending years in unemployment. Stripped of dignity, he moves into his girlfriend Thandeka’s family home, where her mother Cynthia wages psychological war against him, ultimately framing him for infidelity and orchestrating his downfall. Homeless and broken, Nhlanhla discovers his misfortune is spiritual — rooted in his estrangement from his father’s ancestors. His search leads him to Pastor Zondo, a revered religious leader hiding a dark secret: Nhlanhla is his illegitimate son. As lies unravel, pregnancies expose truth, and ancestral rituals restore balance, Nhlanhla confronts betrayal, identity, and legacy. Through humiliation, spiritual awakening, and reconciliation, he rises again — not just to wealth, but to wholeness. The story is a powerful exploration of identity, masculinity, faith, hypocrisy, ancestral truth, and redemption.

“Honey, let’s make a baby together so that you won’t leave me.” I resisted, but my husband ignored it and forced himself onto me. After that, I did it with him 520 times, each time a nightmare for me. Even when he was on business trips, he had to monitor my every move via video, terrified that I would run away. However, one day, I received an invitation to an art exhibition. The intimate gestures between my husband and me had been turned into works of art, filling the entire gallery. My husband held a young female intern by the waist, his gaze sweeping over me with indifference. “Two years ago, you insisted on going against Tiara over an art collectible and suppressed her during the auction, spending lavishly just to humiliate her.” “Now there are 520 art pieces here, an exhibition showcasing your disgrace. If you don’t want them falling into someone else’s hands, you’ll need to bid on them one by one.”

Apparently, the mafia heir, Giovanni Alonzi, is on his deathbed. The Alonzi family wants to select a candidate out of all eligible bachelorettes in Monteverde in order to carry his heir and pray for his recovery. The moment the news gets out, my fiance, Riccardo Moretti, instantly proposes to me. He also urges me to register our marriage on the same day. We've been childhood sweethearts since we were kids, and we've already gotten engaged a long time ago. Our initial plan is to get married this year. But on the day I'm supposed to register my marriage with Riccardo, one of the maids drugs me. My half-sister, Elena Ricci, who shares the same father as me, puts on my gown and walks into City Hall with Riccardo on my behalf. When I wake up, I find out that Elena is already Riccardo's legitimate wife. Rage overwhelms my senses immediately. I rush to the bar to confront Riccardo, only to overhear his conversation with his friends outside the private room they are in. "You really are a genius, Riccardo! You're engaged to Marcella, yet you choose to marry Elena! If Marcella refuses to marry Giovanni, she can only remain your secret lover! "This way, you'll have both sisters as your lovers! Wow, you really are lucky!"

My brother, Dylan Skinner, was diagnosed with kidney failure and needed a transplant. My mother shoved a voluntary donation form in front of me and tried to force me to sign it, but I refused. I told her that my immune system was weak, and I wouldn't survive with only one kidney. She answered with two hard slaps across my face and started yelling. "Dylan is dying, and you're still thinking about yourself? How could you be so selfish?" To force me into it, she stormed into my advisor's office, grabbed my research samples, and said she wouldn't give them back unless I agreed. As I met her hate-filled gaze, something inside me went completely numb.

My husband, Garrett Kachmar, vanished overseas with his ex, Linda Sharpe. They left me with one thing—an illegitimate, screaming baby. Twenty years later, I posted that my "son" had passed his exams. He was joining the police force. That's when Garrett came back. With Linda. And a lawsuit. At the plaintiff's table, Linda looked polished—soft makeup, perfect posture. Her voice? Pure control. "After Garrett divorced, we got married and had a big, healthy boy. Jemma couldn't stand seeing us happy, so she stole our son. We searched for twenty years. She refuses to give him back. We're his biological parents. We have the right to take him." Garrett shot me a glare. "Jemma, just because you can't have kids doesn't mean you get to steal mine." The trial was livestreamed. The comments exploded. [Can't have your own kid so you steal one?] [You destroyed a family. Sick.] [Give him back to his real parents!] Then my "son" was called into the courtroom. And the whole room went dead quiet.

When an earthquake strikes, I'm trapped under one end of a collapsed slab. On the other end is the student I've been sponsoring. My husband, Sebastian Chesson, tells the rescue team to save the student first. The rescuers hesitate. "The other victim might not make it if we do." Sebastian replies coldly, "The other one is my wife. I'll sign a waiver—she's not that easy to kill." I survive, but the three-month-old baby in my womb doesn't. Later, a rescuer hands me a card. "Mr. Chesson said this is five million dollars in exchange for your life." Meanwhile, Sebastian and the student's fairytale romance dominates the trending charts, praised by the internet as the epitome of true love. On our tenth wedding anniversary, I return home to find the student lounging on my bed, wearing my pajamas, playfully teasing Sebastian. Just then, a call comes in from Sebastian's student, who's been eyeing me for a long time. His voice is low, flirtatious, and sinful. "Ms. Sinclair, you always remind me to get to bed early… If you really care, why don't you move in and make sure I do?"

My Alpha mate has canceled our carefully planned honeymoon trips fourteen times for his Omega secretary. The first time, because of the secretary's phone call about "lost territorial maps," he didn't hesitate to abandon me at a strange Nordic airport. The second time, because of the secretary's plea for help, he drove back alone to the pack's core territory, leaving me alone in the dangerous hunting grounds. For four years, I carefully planned fourteen honeymoon trips, but each time my mate would abandon me to choose to accompany his Omega secretary. Finally, I stopped insisting and decided to give up this mating relationship that was never firmly chosen. But when I joined the Alpha Council's secret research project and decided to leave forever, he cried and searched the whole world for me.

In my previous life, after I got divorced, the court awarded me custody of our newborn son, as he was still nursing. On the other hand, our daughter would live with my ex-husband. I raised my son to be humble and polite. He was admitted to MIT. On the day the results were announced, various media outlets rushed to interview me to ask about my parenting secrets. Meanwhile, my daughter dropped out of school and eloped with a hooligan. She got pregnant before she was even sixteen, becoming a negative example of teenage delinquency. At thirty, she was still sponging off her father, having achieved nothing in life. My ex-husband's dream of having a successful daughter was shattered, much to his shame. He came to confront me at my son's college acceptance party. He insisted that I had passed on bad genes to our daughter, which caused her failure. During the argument, he stabbed me in the chest and then jumped to his death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the courtroom on the day of the child custody ruling. This time, my ex-husband spoke before I could, asking the judge to grant him custody of our son. I immediately realized he too had been reborn.

I live alone. At eleven o'clock on a rainy night, an unexpected call came through. The voice on the other end said my car window was left open and urged me to go downstairs. Cautious as a woman should be, I didn't act rashly. Instead, I called the property security office, only to discover that even the security was fake. It hit me suddenly—I was ensnared in a vast conspiracy. Someone was orchestrating all of this. But for what purpose?

I dated my lawyer boyfriend for five years. He canceled our wedding. Fifty-two times. First time? His intern messed up some paperwork. He ditched me at the beach to fix it. I waited all day. Alone. Second time, we were mid-ceremony when he bolted. Heard that intern was getting heat from another lawyer and left me to face the guests and their stares. After that, every time we tried again, there was always some "emergency" with her. Always. I finally hit my limit. I was done. Packed up and broke it off. But the day I left Ainsley? He totally lost it trying to find me.