I Left My A Rank Party

I was the stand-in who looked most like my husband's first love. He put me through countless plastic surgeries, both major and minor ones, until I became her exact likeness. But then, she came back from the dead. All it took was her saying, "I don't like anyone looking like me," and he sent me right back to the operating table once more. I begged him, telling him that my body couldn't handle it anymore. Alas, he only looked at me with irritation. "Seeing that cheap imitation of her face just disgusts me," he sneered. "No matter how close you come, you'll never be her." In the end, I died on that operating table. Yet, he went mad, trying desperately to recall what I once looked like.

During a company team-building event, I collapse from a seafood allergy. Yet my fiance, Frederick Scott, rushes Beatrice Sutton, who only twisted her ankle, to the hospital. I come close to dying because I don't get treatment in time. Later, Frederick explains, "Beatrice is my best friend's sister. He's seriously ill now, and I promised him I'd take care of his sister. I swear I'll keep my distance from her from now on." This isn't the first time I've heard an excuse like that. On our fifth anniversary, Beatrice accidentally deleted a work file and burst into tears out of worry. When Frederick heard about it, he left me stranded on a mountain and drove back to the office himself. I spent a whole day and night walking home through the rain. On Christmas, Beatrice's house lost power. Frederick was worried that she might be scared of being alone, and he rushed over to her place without even telling me, leaving me out in the snow waiting for him until dawn. These kinds of things have happened countless times. Afterward, he always brushes them off with the same excuse. I've long since lost all faith in him and no longer believe a single word he says. I pick up my phone and call the company that keeps reaching out to me. "I've decided to accept your offer from last time. I'll bring the core technology with me."

With only an hour left until the concert began, every trending topic across the internet was dominated by a single headline. [Breaking: Rising Star Tiffany Burgess to Propose to Her Manager After Ten Years of Romance, Leaving Fans in Awe.] This proposal was not just a personal milestone; it was the centerpiece of our company's most ambitious PR campaign of the year and the culmination of a love story between Tiffany and me. Then, in the fire escape, I bumped into Tiffany, dressed in her wedding gown, locked in a passionate kiss with a young man. "Wayne, let me explain," she pleaded. "Explain what?" I snorted. "That just before our proposal, you're sneaking around with another man? The proposal is live-streamed to millions, with thousands of media outlets eagerly awaiting the announcement." I slammed the engagement ring down onto the table in front of her. "After the encore tonight, you'll either propose to me on that stage, or you'll be ruined, both in reputation and career!" Her fists clenched, but in the end, she gritted her teeth and grabbed the box. "Fine." Under the spotlight, she stood before me in her wedding dress, pulling out the ring. But instead of turning to me, she held the ring up toward the guest seating area, where her true love sat. "Wayne, thank you for helping me reach the stars," she declared. "But tonight, I'm going to chase my moon." The crowd erupted in shock and confusion. In a single instant, I became the laughingstock—the unwitting prop in her grand romantic gesture. My heart shattered the moment she reached him.

After I become pregnant, Mason Clarke suddenly becomes incredibly attentive to me. He cancels all his social engagements and personally cooks for me every day. Everyone envies me for finding such a devoted and caring husband. Until one day in his study, I accidentally discover a document titled "Prenatal Blood Donation and Cord Blood Donation Agreement". My name and social security number are clearly written on it! In the beneficiary column is Chloe Reid, his first love, whom he has been supporting abroad for seven years. From outside the door comes his gentle, doting voice. "Chloe, don't worry. I'm personally monitoring her. Her nutrition and daily routine are held to the highest standards to ensure the baby is born perfectly healthy. Your life-saving treatment is absolutely guaranteed!" So all those pregnancy meals he carefully prepares for me, the mountains of expensive supplements, none of it is ever out of love. It's all to fatten me into nothing more than a walking blood bank!

I woke up in the past, on the eve of being traded by my family to that controlling mafia Don. Last life, his suffocating “love” and rigid rules strangled me to death. This time, watching my father’s eager face, I just smiled. “The engagement? Give it to your precious illegitimate daughter.” I walked away. Using the skills he forced me to learn, I secured my escape. On the day of his wedding to my replacement, I boarded a plane far from this gilded hell. Just before leaving, I pressed a button. The family mansion—the symbol of my old prison—erupted into a fireball behind me. Now, I’m thriving under the Mediterranean sun, free and wild. The once-untouchable Don is scouring the globe for me, unraveling. He found me at an airport, fell to his knees, his eyes desperate, begging me to come back. I lowered my sunglasses and looked at this stranger, my ex-fiancé, my voice utterly calm. “Do I know you?”

As the daughter of the Silvermane Pack's strongest Alpha, I was born with two enviable protectors. My brother, Adrian, couldn't bear to see me get a single scratch, and my mate, Liam, couldn't stand to see me shed a single tear. But at my transformation ceremony, Iris, an exile's daughter, stole the Moon Goddess Potion that was meant for me. She shifted first, becoming a rare, pure white wolf and capturing the awe of the entire pack. I only confronted her about it, yet my brother handed me over to enemy rogues as a bargaining chip for a truce. And my mate used wolfsbane to block my transformation, stealing my last chance to fight back. With their silent consent, I was tortured by my enemies until death was a mercy. Before I died, one of the rogues gloated, "So what if your father exiled me? My daughter, Iris, will soon be their Luna. The entire Silvermane Pack will be mine!" I died, consumed by hatred. When I opened my eyes again, I was reborn on the day of my transformation ceremony. Eyeing the preening white wolf before me, I sneered. "Guards! Shave all her fur!"

We had been married for 24 years. Twenty-four years of what I thought was happy. He got everything he wanted. The house he chose. The truck he loved. The vacations he picked. I made sure life ran smoothly so he never had to question comfort. And apparently, comfort made him bored. That’s how I met Vincent. Not in person. On Tinder. Same smile. Same scar on his chin. Same wedding ring conveniently missing.

“You can’t blame me. Her father is the richest man in this country. You’re just an orphan. You should be grateful I even dated you. I won’t mind having you as my mistress though.” These were the words of my boyfriend after catching him in bed with my best friend. If it were with any other woman, it would have been less painful. But my best friend sleeping with my boyfriend behind my back? How does one heal from that? For the first time in my life; I am going to be very mean, because how could they? Yes, I was an orphan but does that give anyone the right to trample all over me? Well, I’d become the wife of that richest man! And have them address me as “Mom”

After falling head over heels for Joe Smith for three years, I finally got the proposal I had been waiting for. However, on the day of our wedding, he did not show up until the wee hours of the morning. When I found him, Joe was drinking happily with a young girl in his arms. “I’m already tired of her clinginess. She’s a joke. Who else would want her?” Much later, he made me a wedding ring and proposed with my favorite jasmine flowers. But a muscular man opened the door instead. The man had two scratch marks on his neck and smirked at the disheveled Joe. “Isn’t it a bit too shameless of you to propose to a married woman?”

Di hari pendaftaran pernikahan, sahabat baikku melakukan kesalahan hebat. Ia menarik tangan seorang pria asing, bukannya tunanganku. Konyolnya lagi, kami resmi dinikahkan hari itu juga. Tidak terima dengan kesalah pahaman ini, aku ke apartemen tunanganku dan mendapatinya sedang tidur dengan sahabat baikku di satu tempat tidur. Keesokan harinya aku harus menerima fakta kalau suamiku adalah calon suami adik tiriku, anak dari ayah kandungku yang membuang dan menghina keluargaku. aku memutuskan mabuk dan melontarkan pertanyaan ke suamiku malam itu, "my dear husband, can i crush our marriage?"