Novel & Cerita Is The Afton Family Real

When I get mutilated by the killer, my Mom, who works as a forensic doctor, is currently shopping with my older sister, Winona Langdon. After the killer gouges out one of my eyes, he unlocks my phone and sends Mom a video call invitation. But the video call only rings a few times before Mom rejects it. When the killer tries calling her again, he finds out that my number has already been blocked. He merely shoots me a mocking smile in return. Once the police have discovered my body, Mom can't help but curse at the killer for his brutality after seeing how badly I was decimated. But what she doesn't recognize is that the twisted-looking corpse actually belongs to me, her unloved daughter.

She was once a high-society queen. Then everything was taken from her. Family. Name. Life. Sold off to pay a debt she never owed, Vivienne clawed her way out of hell—only to fall into something darker. A contract marriage. To Alexander. The man no one dares to cross. Cold. Untouchable. Dangerous. This was supposed to be a deal. Use him. Control him. Survive. But Vivienne isn’t a victim. She’s hunting something. Her own blood. And Alexander? He’s not saving her. He’s watching. Waiting. Because the more ruthless she becomes— the harder it is for him to let her go. Two monsters. One marriage. And a game where love might be the most dangerous move of all.

My husband, Jared Smith, let me take his spot for a highland vacation. After I departed, I found out that I won a random lottery that I had bought before for $50 million. In order to not delay the redemption of the lottery ticket, I took a red-eye flight back home and wanted to share the news with Jared. Before I went into the house, I heard his smug laugh. “That jacket belongs to Sammy, I’m sure! That dumb witch has been eaten by a bear! I’m so glad that Penny and I sent her on that trip.” It just so happened that the tour group chat sent a video of a member being eaten by a brown bear. My jacket was bloody. However, I was not the one who had been wearing that jacket. It had been his lover, Penny Lee.

I had returned to the past with my younger sister, Wendy Anderson. In the past, she had married a CEO. After we returned to the past, she insisted on snatching a security guard from me. My parents favored her, so they almost passed out from anger when they learned that she was marrying a security guard. She said nonchalantly, “Liam will be successful one day. Just you wait and see.” In the first year of marriage, she gave birth to Liam Smith’s son, Charlie Smith. She was very smug about that. She looked down on me, who gave birth to a daughter. “Go away and don’t pass your bad luck to me. I’m planning to give birth to nine more sons for Liam. We’ll be a perfect family of ten sons.” She expected a wealthy life ahead of her. However, she did not know that Liam had a crazy wife back in the countryside. He also had seven difficult older sisters and three mean mothers and aunts that she would have to appease.

Richard Montague, a rich heir in Durmask, has just posted a new tweet on Twitter. The accompanying photo features a luxurious winery. The caption reads, "My wife loves this place a lot, so I bought it immediately." I tap on the photo, soon realizing that this is Amie Winery, the same place that I had briefly mentioned to Richard last week. Then, I recall the fact that he has told me that he's prepared a surprise anniversary gift for me in a mysterious tone. So, this winery must be the gift! With a wide smile on my face, I respond to his tweet in the comment section. But three minutes later, Kiara York, a popular celebrity from the same company that I'm in, quickly proclaims her love for Richard on the Internet. "Wow, my husband is so generous! I'm very satisfied with this gift!" All the onlookers and fans begin shipping Kiara and Richard like mad overnight. "What a sweet relationship! As expected of the rich heir in Durmask! Even the way he announces his relationship is very domineering!" The whole turn of events leaves me feeling stunned. Once I realize that Kiara is just trying to ride on the coattails of Richard's popularity, I quickly post a picture of my marriage certificate online. It comes with a caption. "If she's the legitimate wife, then who am I?" But Kiara soon posts a marriage certificate of her own. To my surprise, there's a photo attached to the certificate. Richard's face is shown in the photo. Kiara mocks me, "There's a limit to being a lunatic fangirl, you know! Rick and I are husband and wife by law! You can't just slap a Photoshopped picture here and pretend that he's your husband!" As I stare at both copies of the marriage certificates, which show the courthouse's stamp, I fall in deep contemplation. Then, I look at the place Kiara tagged on her Twitter comment. Finally, I can't resist calling Richard, who's currently overseas. "How dare you engage in bigamy behind my back!"

When I was discharged from the psychiatric hospital, my brother and sister-in-law dropped everything to personally pick me up. Even my nephew, who had just finished his college entrance exams, arrived with a box of carrot cake he had waited in line all day to buy. His warm smile was the picture of innocence. “Auntie, congratulations on your discharge. With me here, you’ll never feel lonely again.” To outsiders, we were the perfect family—envied by all and even awarded the title of a local model family. But behind the facade of family bliss lay a very different story. On the very day my brother transferred the last of the family properties to me, I went live on social media. In front of an audience that idolized my so-called perfect family, I boasted about my "accomplishments." I conned my nephew into paying for a spot at an elite school, duped my sister-in-law into stepping into a scandalous club, and tricked my brother into losing everything he had worked for. “My brother has treated me with nothing but kindness. And I can only repay his kindness with betrayal.”

Eight months pregnant, my family threw me a loving baby shower. When fire broke out, my parents instantly shielded my blood-cursed sister and fled, leaving me behind to die. My husband, Lysander, rushed into the flames to save me. His back was scorched raw, yet he only cradled my belly, whispering, “You and the baby must be safe.” I thought that was love. Until I accidentally saw his messages to my sister— “Once she gives birth, the cord blood will save you. Just hold on a little longer.” I touched the life kicking inside me and smiled silently. The next day, I scheduled a termination. And on the day of the procedure, they stormed into my hospital room with sedatives and restraints.

I was the real daughter of the Sinclair family, yet I was the one abandoned when their fake daughter and I were kidnapped and taken to the top of a building. They were given a choice between the two of us, and they chose to save the fake daughter, letting me be pushed off from the eighteenth-floor balcony. Even though I survived, I was completely disappointed in them. Then, their attitudes changed overnight. My parents, who despised me, started asking me about my likes and dislikes. My brother who wished me dead, started suddenly giving me precious jewelry. Even my fiancé, who always claimed I was nothing compared to the fake daughter, started to prepare for our wedding. To say I was confused was an understatement.

"Two families are here today hoping to adopt. You can choose which one you'd like to go with." In my previous life, I chose the Parkers, who owned a small neighborhood store. Life wasn't particularly comfortable, but they cherished me like their own. They fully supported my writing and helped me become a moderately successful novelist. Meanwhile, Sean Lowe chose the affluent Bennett family. Their home was comfortable, but cold and detached. He spent more than a decade trying to earn their affection, but never truly became part of the family. Now that I'd been given a second chance, the moment I saw the Parkers again, I nearly called them Mom and Dad. But Sean beat me to it. He threw himself forward and said, "Mrs. Harper, I want to go with the family that owns the store! I love snacks the most. I'll be good and listen to everything they say!" He buried himself in Claire Parker's arms like a kitten that had finally found its way home. I stopped behind him and didn't move. If my guess was right, he had been reborn too.

"The Rossi family doesn't need a Don. We just need a Donna." As the only heiress of the Rossi family, this was the law that I had set when I received the Browning pistol—a pistol that resembles the ultimate authority in the Rossi family—from my Papa when he was on his deathbed. But three years ago, the police relentlessly investigated the money laundering business that my fiance, Lorenzo Moretti, was in charge of. If that business were to get exposed, the Rossi family's hundred-year-old legacy would be ruined. In order to protect my family's legacy and to allow Lorenzo to continue legalizing my family's businesses, I decided to become the scapegoat for all the crimes. On the rainy night of my arrest, I personally handed the pistol over to Lorenzo. "Protect my family for me before my return." This gave Lorenzo legitimate authority to run my family. He used the pistol to purge my subordinates and take over the family business. He even broke my law by announcing to the public that he'd become the next Don soon. An invitation with golden borders is soon leaked from the family's inner circle. Lorenzo's and another woman's names are printed on the cover. During a visit, my private lawyer says mockingly, "If you don't get out of prison now, the Rossi family might take on another man's last name for real." I just sneer in response. After that, I get bailed out of jail in advance and return home to celebrate Lorenzo's "funeral". But no matter how many times I scan my iris at the biometric scanner in the estate, the result always comes out wrong. A young woman, who's toying with the pistol, opens the door at that moment. The contempt and disdain in her eyes are plain to see. "Where the hell did a crazy woman like you come from? You came to the wrong place. This is my private turf, you know."