Im Good Im Good Im Good

Seven years into their marriage, Bella got hit with a truth—Steven had a kid. A six-year-old. She crouched behind the preschool slide, barely breathing, as Steven bent down to scoop the boy up. "Daddy, you haven't come to see me in forever." "Be good, Ollie. Work's been crazy. Listen to your mom, alright?" Bella froze. Same face. Same eyes. It was obvious. Everything about them screamed it—The man who swore he'd love her forever had been cheating on her this whole time. Steven and Bella weren't just a couple. They were childhood sweethearts. She once took a knife for him. Nearly died. Lost their baby. Lost the chance to ever have one again. Steven had held her hand back then, eyes red, saying, "I don't care if we never have kids. As long as I have you, that's enough." She still heard the shake in his voice. Now? Every promise. Every memory. All of it—gone.

My wife—Nancy Valente—had been "missing" for three months after some fake skiing accident. I spotted her at a bar. She was draped over Finley Bennett's shoulder, laughing like she hadn't wrecked my life. "Good thing you came up with this plan. I almost forgot what freedom felt like." Her crew kept clinking glasses, asking when she planned to pop back up. She glanced down. "Maybe in a week. I'll show up once he's lost his mind." I stayed in the shadows, watching her bask in her little escape act. Then I grabbed my phone and called a buddy at the Vital Records Office.

Im sechsten Jahr meiner Beziehung mit Kai Krause sagte ich zu ihm: „Kai, ich werde heiraten.“ Er zuckte erschrocken zusammen, riss sich aus seinen Gedanken und wirkte verlegen. „Yara, du weißt doch... Die Firma steht kurz vor einer entscheidenden Finanzierungsrunde, ich habe im Moment einfach keinen Kopf für...“ „Macht nichts“, sagte ich mit einem gleichgültigen Lächeln. Doch er hatte mich falsch verstanden. Ich werde heiraten – aber nicht ihn.

I lucked out, securing a guaranteed admission spot at Westbridge University—the one the real heiress throws away. Nicole Stewart drops out for love and runs off with the school's bully, shattering what should've been her perfect life. Meanwhile, I'm branded a thief, accused of stealing her place. However, I fight my way up to become a powerhouse in business and even marry her childhood sweetheart, Spencer Lowe. Yet, at the peak of it all, I open my eyes to find myself back to graduation day of senior year, right when I'm filling out my choices of colleges. A live barrage of comments flashes before my eyes. "That fake heiress, Gloria Stewart, is nothing but a thief. She stole Nicole's life!" "In her last life, Nicole actually dropped out of school to start a business with some school bully. She even gave her childhood sweetheart, who was her fiance, to someone else! Ugh, she's so stupid and pathetic." "Good thing Nicole gets a second chance. This time, the real heiress has awakened, so let's just see how miserable that fake heiress who stole her life becomes!" I just smile at the scrolling insults. Sorry, but I carve my own path. Nicole can be reborn a hundred times, and she still can't stop me from rising to the top.

I return to my hometown after becoming the wealthiest person in the world. I stand beside a luxury car I bought for my father and call him—I want him to be surprised when he picks me up. However, this backfires on me. I joke with him and tell him my company has gone bankrupt. My debtors are coming after me, so I'm home to flee from them. I end up standing under the sweltering sun until the sky goes dark and it starts to pour—my father never shows up to see his gift. I brave the rain as I head home. Before I even enter the house, I can sense my sister-in-law's panic. "Listen to me—don't tell that jinx that Dad has just won a million dollars!" My mother says, "I knew having a daughter was a bad decision. It's bad enough that she doesn't have money for us—why is she coming home when she's in trouble? She should just die out there!" My father sneers. "Well, we can sell her off to that cripple in the village. Maybe she'll fetch a good price!"

Out on a holiday with my boyfriend, Jack, and my good friend, Eva, a catastrophe occurred. As the floods came, we waited for the rescue helicopter to come. As I fastened the safety rope, I noticed that my metal safety clip had been swapped for a plastic ring. Climbing up the rope ladder, Jack said nonchalantly, "Eva's luggage is heavy. She needs another safety clip, so I gave her yours. You can wait for the next rescue." I replied in a panic, pointing at the water level already past my chest, "But I can't swim!" Jack replied irritatedly, "Naomi, stop causing a scene! You're a strong swimmer, what's a little time in the water? Eva is my boss's relative. If something happens to her, my promotion is gone. Why can't you understand that?" "Which matters more? My life or her luggage?" I reached for the rope ladder when he kicked my hand away. "I've studied the waters. The flood won't rise so quickly. It will at most be at the level of your neck. You won't die!" I said nothing further. Watching the floods rise crazily, I quickly pressed my family's special alarm on my wrist.

The intern secretly submitted a voluntary pay-cut application on my behalf. As a result, my salary dropped from $10,000 to $2,000. When I found out and confronted him, my boss and colleagues all defended him. "The company is not doing great right now. Oscar was just trying to save costs for us. Do you have to nickel-and-dime over this?" With my salary so low, I couldn't afford the special medication for my chronic migraines, and one day I passed out at my desk during an attack. But the intern snuck a video of me unconscious and posted it on the company's website. He even whipped up a detailed 100-page slideshow breaking down how I was slacking off on the clock and dumping all my work on him. Overnight, I was labeled a workplace bully. My boss gave me the cold shoulder, and my colleagues whispered about me. Even worse, some extreme "anti-workplace-bullying" activists tracked me down to my home, showed up with two cans of gasoline, and burned me and my parents alive. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on that very day when the intern had submitted my pay-cut form. In this second chance at life, I would make sure everyone saw the intern for who he truly was.

On the company's designated monthly day off, Gigi Lott, Donald Hoover's secretary, posted an Instagram story. The caption read, "So what if you're the boss of me when we're at work during the day? At night, I'm the one on top!" In the photo, she was lying atop a water bed covered in rose petals, and the usually stern Donald was kneeling down to massage her feet for her. From his pocket hung a brand new golden necklace. Just that morning, I bought several gold bars and gave them to Donald while beseeching him to make our relationship public. He happily took the locket from me, but when I tried to take a photo of us with our phone, he smacked my phone out of my hands, smashing it into pieces. With a look of pure derision, he declared, "Why don't you take a good look at yourself in the mirror first? You really are a motherless wretch who wasn't raised right. Look at the lengths you'd go to just to ruin me!" Throughout the last five years, I had meekly gone along with his demand that we keep our relationship a secret, claiming it was because office romances were forbidden. But now, I was abruptly hit with the realization of how laughable it all was. The next day, I sent my father a message. "I admit defeat. I'm willing to come home and inherit the family business."

After a car crash, I wake up without a scratch, but my girlfriend, Elena Reed, has amnesia. What shocks me the most is that I can hear my late grandma's voice in my head. "That shameless woman is feigning amnesia to trick Rowan! If I were still alive, I'd break her legs myself!" My eyes fly wide in disbelief. Grandma's voice keeps raging in my head. "Rowan, in your past life, Elena ruined you. You had miserable years with her and nearly died of a heart attack while she was out celebrating Miles' birthday! "Your grandpa is about to have you choose a bride. Don't pick Elena. Pick Piper. She's a good woman!" A second later, Grandpa and the elders walk into the hospital room and spread out photos of heiresses from the four great families, asking me to choose a bride. I don't even hesitate. I choose Piper Alden, the one I've been butting heads with for as long as I can remember. I've always listened to Grandma. If she says that Elena doesn't love me, then I don't want her anymore.

My son was caught in a car accident. My husband said that without a cornea donor, he would be trapped in darkness forever. Heartbroken, I let him sweet-talk me into signing away my corneas. Blind, I overheard my son gloating, "Dad, the plan worked. Mom fell for it, and Rachel's got her sight back. She won't be miserable anymore." "Yeah, now we're a real family with her," replied my husband. The truth gutted me. They'd played me like a fool to save my husband's old flame. When I confronted them, Rachel Huffman shoved me down a staircase, and I died in agony. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of my son's car accident.