Independence

My dormmate falls in the dorm and sends the rest of us the hospital bill. She wants us to compensate her. "I only fell because you guys left a puddle of water at the door. It's only right that you compensate me, don't you think? It's not much—you each just have to give me a thousand dollars to cover the checkup, medication, transport, the classes I missed, and the mental distress I suffered." I exchange looks with my two other dormmates. All three of us politely decline. That's when she goes berserk. She screeches threateningly, "Do you know who my father is? I'll make sure you guys can't graduate if you don't compensate me!"

After nursing the baby, I closed my eyes to rest for a moment. The nanny, thinking I was asleep, brazenly clung to my husband, cooing, "Harlan, if your wife finds out that the son she gave birth to was swapped out long ago and that the baby in her arms is actually ours, do you think she’d be furious?” “You’re so smart. Swapping the babies at the hospital was brilliant. Once our daughter inherits her fortune, we’ll kick her out of the house in no time!” I pretended not to hear their conversation. I continued to raise my daughter with utmost care and devotion. When she returned from her studies, I immediately transferred all my shares to her, supporting her to become the youngest heir of the company. At the handover celebration, the nanny dressed even more extravagantly than I did. She boldly grabbed my daughter and declared, “I am Yasmine’s real mother! You’ve kept her from me all these years, but now it’s time that the truth is revealed!” My husband handed me the divorce papers with a smug look. “For Yasmine’s sake, let’s part ways amicably.” My daughter folded her arms and glared at me. “Since you raised me for so many years, I’ll visit you in the nursing home once a year.” Watching their victorious smiles, I lowered my eyes. “As you wish.” I hope you’re ready to handle the kind of wealth that shatters the heavens!

During the five years that Sophie Lord was married, she had been continuously doing IVFs and was finally able to become pregnant with Luke Shaw’s child. That same day, she saw Luke at the hospital with his secretary, Helen Jones. He was accompanying her for a pregnancy test. Sophie was devastated and asked Luke to choose between her and the child in Helen’s womb. “Let’s not make a fuss, Sophie. I’ll explain everything to you when I get back. You need to calm down first. I’m keeping this child no matter what.” He carefully supported Helen as they left, but what he didn’t see was the blood trickling down Sophie’s legs. Later on, when Sophie disappeared from Luke’s life, the latter brought down completely.

My fiancé and brother hated me for ten years. They firmly believed I had bullied their beloved Linda Lowe. At my engagement party, they exposed my crimes to the world. "She's nothing but a bully who tormented her classmate!" In the viral livestream video, Linda smiled through tears: "I've already forgiven her." "What's done is done. The past is behind us now" She became an overnight sensation. Meanwhile, I was condemned by thousands, attacked with acid by fanatic fans, and in despair, I took us both down together. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in my senior year of high school. Linda was pouring water over her own head while smiling, asking me, "Have you thought about how you'll apologize to me?" I lost it right there. Grabbing her by the hair, I dragged her into the bathroom, shoving her head into the toilet. "Let me show you what real bullying looks like. Since your mouth is so filthy, make sure to wash it clean before you go telling tales."

Yvette Skye has been diagnosed with depression. She thinks her parents will understand her situation, but all she gets is boundless mockery and doubt. After her affair with her sister’s boyfriend is found out, she dies in an accident. After her death, her biased parents suddenly start to regret their actions.

On my way to the bank, I stumbled across a post: [What's the most shameful thing you've done behind your partner's back?] One comment stood out: [I secretly married my first love, and my girlfriend keeps dumping money into our joint account like an idiot. She actually thinks I'm saving for a house. There's already sixty-seven grand in there. Once she hits eighty, I'm taking it all!] The flood of likes made my stomach twist. I pulled up my account balance. Sixty-seven grand. Not a penny more, not a penny less. So, my boyfriend secretly married his ex.

My boyfriend passed away from illness. Before he died, he asked me to look after his only younger brother—Callum Ressler. I put Callum through college, and helped him build his company from the ground up. Then one night, after a round of drinking at some work function, he ended up in bed with me. While I wrestled with what we were to each other, I noticed something on his office desk: a photo of me, framed neatly beside an engagement ring. My heart stirred. I pushed open the lounge door, ready to finally talk about us. But just as the door creaked open, a white camisole fell at my feet. I froze. Callum pulled the covers tightly around a shocked female assistant. "Diana, ever heard of knocking?" he snapped. Face pale, limbs suddenly uncoordinated, I started backing out. But the assistant's timid voice stopped me. "Diana… could you hand me my clothes?" I ignored the hostility behind her eyes, grabbed the garment, tossed it onto the bed, and left in a hurry. Once I stepped outside the company building, Callum called. "Diana, you should really stop barging into my room like that." I laughed and agreed. From that moment on, I never stepped into his world again.

My sister abruptly returns to the country on the day of my wedding. My parents, brother, and fiancé abandon me to pick her up at the airport. She shares a photo of them on her social media, bragging about how she's so loved. Meanwhile, all the calls I make are rejected. My fiancé is the only one who answers, but all he tells me is not to kick up a fuss. We can always have our wedding some other day. They turn me into a laughingstock on the day I've looked forward to all my life. Everyone points at me and laughs in my face. I calmly deal with everything before writing a new number in my journal—99. This is their 99th time disappointing me; I won't wish for them to love me anymore. I fill in a request to study abroad and pack my luggage. They think I've learned to be obedient, but I'm actually about to leave forever.

All I did was post a photo of the exquisite pink diamond necklace my dad gave me for my birthday. An intern, however, confronted me in front of everyone. “Miss Anderson, why is my necklace with you? Do you think being a manager gives you the right to steal from others?” I calmly explained that it was a birthday gift from my dad, personally purchased at an auction. She didn’t believe me. Instead, she pulled out surveillance footage showing me entering and leaving her office and flat-out accused me of being a thief. “Some people can’t get what they want, so they resort to stealing. Do you honestly think taking a necklace means you can take over someone’s entire life? And you’re actually trying to pass yourself off as the heiress of Anderson Corporation? Isn’t that completely ridiculous?”

In New York’s Upper East Side, there were two heirs. One was a speed-obsessed daredevil dominating the racetracks, the other was a brilliant actuary who controlled the flow of capital. Born into powerful families and polar opposites in temperament, yet they grew up side by side as each other’s only best friend. They had fought over girls and bickered endlessly over racing bets. However, at fifteen, there was one thing they did in perfect unison. They each put on the same roughly carved bronze badge. They were trinkets Mia had idly made during a craft class, marked only by a faint “M” scratched on the back. Back then, Mia was seated in the last row of the classroom. Her background was a complete mystery to everyone. Yet they wore that badge for ten whole years. Whether standing on the F1 podium or locking in billion-dollar trades at the exchange, the cheap little badge on their chests never changed. Until Ella showed up. She was the cherished daughter of a rising conglomerate family. She hand-stitched two gold-thread fabric patches and gifted them to them. The patches looked so ordinary they looked like the kind of trinket you would find three for a dollar at a flea market. And yet, they both replaced their bronze badges with her plain patches. Mia did not say anything. She simply folded away an old newspaper clipping with a photo of the three of them smiling together. That night, she called her father in Sicily. Her voice was emotionless. “Papa, I accept the marriage arrangement.”