I Wanna Make U Feel Wanted

My family hates me for causing my brother's death. From then on, I become a child no one loves. Meanwhile, my cousin, Evelyn Green, who looks like my brother, becomes the apple of my parents' eyes. From the age of ten to 18, my days are a cycle of beatings and forced apologies. On my 18th birthday, Evelyn wears a gorgeous gown and basks in everyone's adoration, while I'm shoved around in a maid's uniform and hit like I'm not even human. In my darkest moment, Morgan Oakley, the mafia boss, saves me. He takes me home, and step by step, wins his way into my heart. Because of him, I learn what love can feel like. He treats me like a treasure and promises me forever. However, on the day we're supposed to register our marriage, he keeps me waiting for a whole day and night. He never shows up. As I'm about to leave, my phone starts buzzing. A text from Morgan pops up. "Jasmine, I'm sorry. I ran into an enemy and couldn't make it to the city hall. A storm's coming, so make sure you get home quick!" My heart clenches in panic. I'm about to text back and ask if he's okay when Evelyn's message comes right after his. "Jasmine, I'm the one he loves. He skipped marrying you today because of me. You must be devastated, right?" Then, she sends a video. In it, Morgan holds her gently, his voice soft as he comforts her. "Evie, don't cry. You once saved my life, so I'll do anything for you. If you don't want me to marry Jasmine, then I won't. I love you. I only took her in so I could keep her close. That way, she'd be right there when you needed blood." My parents were off to the side. They chimed in tenderly, "Don't cry, Evie. Morgan loves you. He only pursued Jasmine because of your condition. You have a coagulation disorder and need transfusions of Rh-negative blood whenever you get hurt." I stagger back when I hear that, dropping my phone to the ground. So, Morgan's sudden passion is laced with poison. He only pretends to love me just so he can turn me into Evelyn's walking blood bank! Everyone goes to so much trouble to hide the truth from me just so Evelyn doesn't need to suffer from her condition! Rain mixes with my tears as they slide down my face. I stare at my phone on the pavement as bitterness floods me. A thought forms—I want to leave them forever. I want to disappear so they'll never find me again.

I was about to get married, but my boyfriend of nine years had no idea. Why? All because his recently divorced ex-girlfriend waltzed back into town, and he threw himself into her life without hesitation. The knight in shining armor was back, ready to save the day. The moment they saw each other, it was like a scene from a bad romance novel. Their gazes lingered, sparks flying, the kind that screamed, “Oh, we’re soulmates reunited.” To welcome her back, he had 9,999 Juliet roses flown in to decorate her room. Why? All because it was a promise he had made to her long ago. How sweet. Except for one small problem: I’m severely allergic to pollen. When I woke up in the hospital after an emergency rescue, I didn’t cry, yell, or demand answers. No, I pulled out my phone and texted my parents, "Please help me arrange a marriage. I’m done."

Whenever Rachel Cooper loses it, I know I'm about to get divorced again. I close my eyes. "We are divorcing for the ninth time." Marcus Miller massages his temples and says regretfully, "Vivian, Barry died all of a sudden, leaving his wife and her unborn baby behind. I can't ignore them. Relax. Once the baby's born, we'll remarry. We won't separate ever again!" I remain silent. I already heard this promise eight times before. Barry Miller's sudden death is the reason for Rachel's breakdown. It also caused Marcus and me to divorce for the first time. Back then, Rachel was already pregnant, prompting Marcus to divorce me. He will remarry me once he has comforted her. Over the past nine months, we have married and divorced eight times. Everyone mocks me by calling me the Eight-Ring Wonder. I also find it ridiculous. After I accept the divorce certificate, one of the court staff secretly asks me, "When are you getting married again?" I answer calmly, "There's no next time."

On the day of my coming-of-age ceremony, all three of my fiancés showed up with the worst reports from their family-run businesses. My father had declared that I would marry the one who could bring the greatest benefit to our family. However, all three of them had already fallen for a penniless scholarship girl named Amelia Jones, and none of them wanted me. In my previous life, I kept them close, mentored them, and poured my resources into helping them rise. By the time they had each become powerful men in my family, they repaid me by framing my father, getting him arrested, and making him age more than 10 years overnight. He was dragged to prison. Me? They hired a crew of street thugs to brutalize me, leaving me to die while my private photos spread across the internet. As life slipped away, I heard their sneering voices: "Did you really think we ever liked you? Everything we did was for Amelia." "If you hadn't chained us to your side, we'd have married her long ago, we'd have a house full of kids by now!" "You and your father ruined her future. She couldn't afford college because of you. She had no choice but to jump!" Then I opened my eyes: reborn on the very day of my coming-of-age ceremony. I pulled my father aside, looked him in the eye, and said, "I'm an adult now. Throw them out. Strip them of every business and every asset we gave them." "I'm not choosing any of them. I chose Bruce Sullivan, the Don of the Sullivan family."

I married someone two years ago. From then on, I lived a happy life. Thankfully, I did not have to deal with a mother-in-law and did not have to work. I even got two hundred thousand dollars from my husband every month as pocket money. Even my best friends lived the high life because of me. But today, right after I got my allowance, I got a call from the police station. They told me to pick my husband up from there.

After my older sister, Cecilia, and I hit adulthood, our parents dropped a bomb: one of us had to run the family business, the other had to marry into the Spencer family in Norwick City. Cecilia, blinded by greed, called dibs on the company without blinking. Problem was, she was all talk. Spent her days jet-setting and partying while the business tanked. Within a year, she'd burned it all to the ground. Me? I got the Spencer name and popped out two boys, locking in my spot as the rich wife. Cecilia couldn't handle it. Jealousy made her snap—she straight-up stabbed me at a family party. Next thing I knew, I was back on the day we had to choose. Cecilia didn't even pause. "I'll marry into the Spencer family. The business can go to Demi." I laughed. My poor, clueless sister—she had no idea she was walking straight into hell.

While on a business trip, I stumbled into my brother-in-law, Julian Zeller, mid-act with a male colleague in a hotel parking lot. Furious, I blew the lid off his fake marriage and helped my sister, Yvonne Sutton, escape that scumbag. But after the divorce, she lost his financial support. She spiraled, blaming me for destroying her perfect marriage. She even killed me for trying to stop her from going back to him. Then, everything resets. I wake up, and there he is—slipping into the car while hugging the same man. I pocket my phone. This time, I won't ruin Yvonne's happy ending.

For six years of marriage, Cyran Valehart and I lived with measured respect, as if we were partners holding the same scale in perfect balance. For the sake of my equestrian career, I refused to have children. He shouldered the gossip, endured the judgment, and stood beside me without hesitation. But when I rode into what should have been my final international competition, he went back home with his first love—her hand resting protectively over her swollen belly. "All these years, you chose the horses over me," he spat. "That damned competition meant more to you than our family ever did." His voice shook with righteous anger, but his next words cut far deeper. "Six years ago, I abandoned Celia once. Now she carries my child. I won't betray her again." In that instant, my marriage became nothing but a title. I was reduced to a wife in name only, a figurehead in his home, a shadow he no longer cared to see. During the very competition meant to crown my life's work, Cyran laced a sharp needle beneath my saddle, each stride of my horse a fresh stab of pain meant to break us both. I lost the match. My horse collapsed with a shattered leg. And in that fall, my dream and my marriage were crushed together—ruined by the very man who once swore to protect them. Later, he paid with everything he had, desperate to make amends. But no matter what he sacrificed, Cyran Valehart was already behind me, nothing more than a ghost I would never turn to face again.

In Reychelle City, a contest was held to crown the most beautiful woman. After my cousin scarred my face, she seized first place with ease. What she never expected was that this year's contest wasn't for fame; it was to select the future wife of the Third Prince, a ruthless, bloodthirsty eunuch. That very afternoon, gifts poured in by the cartload. My betrothed panicked. That night, he tore up our engagement contract and carried my cousin into the bridal chamber. The next day, she trailed her lacquered fingertips across my cheek and sneered, "Alicia, with your ruined face, who would ever want you? Perhaps the beggar at the street corner might take you in." I caught her wrist, let out a cold laugh, and said, "Who told you I would marry a beggar?" Before her stunned eyes, I pushed open my parents' chamber doors. "Mom, since Maggie doesn't wish to be the prince's consort… let me take her place." Three years later, before the eyes of a shocked court, the Third Prince entered the grand hall with me at his side, with two children in tow. No one had foreseen it. This body of mine, blessed with the rarest gift of fertility, was the perfect match for a man believed incapable of siring heirs.

The moment they released the year-end audit notice, I just stared in disbelief at the mention of my car, which I had paid for in full and in cash. It was boldly listed under the company’s fixed assets. “Our company practices a ‘family-friendly’ culture. What’s yours is the company’s. We’re a family. There’s no need to get picky about what’s yours or mine.” As if that was not enough, the company fired the driver and handed the chauffeuring duty to me. “Here’s the reception schedule for this month. Also, please pick up my dad at Babolle at 3 a.m. tonight.” My expression had darkened. Nonetheless, the human resources manager continued, “In a family, there’s no ‘yours’ or ‘mine’. My dad is your dad, right?” I was so furious that I almost exploded. ​ “I’m taking my car back, then!” She immediately took out a loan contract. “Simple. Pay by instalments. Work here for three years and you can ‘buy’ back your car.” So not only did I have to work as a driver for free, but I also had to pay to reclaim my car. Ever since the human resources manager parachuted in, she cut perks and cancelled vacations. She even started to dig into my wallet! “I quit!” She sneered. Then, she brandished a thick employee handbook. “Clause 1867 states that an employee who resigns of their own accord will need to pay double their salary. You’re under a six-month probation starting from now. Pass it, then you can leave.”