Jane Pittman True Story

I'm bound to a rebound system by nature. Everyone who has come up with rumors about me will receive backlash in return. When I was in high school, a male classmate had spread rumors about me being a prostitute who had intimate relations with a few old men. That very same day, he was taken away by a dozen or so old men and was modified into a gigolo himself. When I was in college, my boyfriend's childhood friend spread rumors about me being the female lead in porno videos. That night, all of the available porno videos on the Internet featured her as the female lead. Since then, no one dares to gossip about me. That is, until I'm reunited with the wealthy Hartley family, which happens to be my biological family. The fake heiress, Claire Hartley, takes my hand while adopting a friendly expression. "Hey Amanda, I heard that you got pregnant out of wedlock and gave birth to a murderer's child. Now that you're back, why didn't you bring the baby home with you? "We're a family, after all. We won't look down on you."

The night my parents were kidnapped, my brother—who happened to be a police officer—chose to go bungee jumping with the fake heiress. I didn't stop him. Instead, I called the police and began preparing the ransom. In my previous life, my brother had forgone the outing to rescue our parents. As a result, the rope snapped during her jump, sending her plummeting into the abyss. Her body was never recovered. He never spoke a word about it afterward. On my birthday, he drugged me and dragged me to that very cliff. "You orchestrated the kidnapping! You'd go this far for their attention? You're nothing but a monster! Lillian is dead. You don't deserve to live either!" When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the night my parents were kidnapped. This time, my brother didn't rush to their rescue. Instead, he ran to the fake heiress. But in the end, he regretted it so much that he nearly lost his mind.

In my second year running the company, my high school class monitor suddenly started tagging me nonstop in the group chat. [Alice, Vivian was only joking with you back then. Why won't you come to her party? Are you trying to make her feel guilty?] I didn't understand what was going on. Only after reading the messages did I realize that our class beauty, Vivian Spencer, had recently found her biological parents—and today, she had thrown a party to announce it to the world. Me: [I'm busy.] I had no intention of attending a party hosted by someone who used to bully me. But my answer didn't shut them up. Instead, it stirred up even more absurd speculation. [Don't tell me you're doing some kind of labor job and can't take leave?] [We're all former classmates. If you show up, I'll give you sixty dollars. That should cover two days of your salary.] Vivian chimed in as well. [Alice, it was just a joke back then. And I'd already dropped out by then. Why can't you let it go?] I stared at her message for a long moment before typing: [Only trash would call bullying a joke.] The group exploded instantly. [Vivian's no trash! She's a wealthy heiress. She's not even in the same league as you. Poor people really love to nitpick.] Vivian, ever the hypocrite, tried to smooth things over. [No matter what, today marks a new beginning for me. I hope you'll come to witness it. [We're classmates, after all. I don't hold it against you for forcing me to drop out. If you're short on money, I can even ask my dad to arrange a job for you.] Then she sent a screenshot of her chat with her father. When I saw her father's profile picture, I froze. Wasn't that the same profile picture as my freeloading dad? But I look seventy percent like my mom—it's impossible for me to be a fake daughter. And Vivian was two months younger than me. I let out a laugh. "Alright, I'll definitely attend your recognition party."

My adoptive parents' long-lost daughter came back. She's a wellness influencer. She eats from crystal bowls she "cleansed." Sleeps with a white noise machine. She will only ride in a custom, climate-controlled car. That's not all. She filled our family's Manhattan law firm with Himalayan salt lamps and energy crystals. The espresso in the conference room? Replaced with gluten-free, organic dandelion root tea. "The energy here is so murky," she'd say. "We need to cleanse the world with love and light!" My guilt-ridden parents gave her everything she wanted. Even my fiancé told me, "Ava, you stole twenty years of her Upper East Side life. Can't you cut her some slack?" The day of the final hearing for our firm's biggest case, the entire court had to wait for her to finish her "emotional cleansing meditation." The judge was furious. I stood up. Delivered a flawless closing argument. I won our client $500 million and secured the future of the firm. But at the party, she had a drunken breakdown, fell into the pool, and drowned. My parents and my fiancé blamed me for everything. "You always have to win, don't you? It was a simple, open-and-shut case. You couldn't even let her have that?" They had me committed to a psychiatric hospital. They destroyed my law license and my reputation. They even had me injected with a fatal overdose of sedatives. I died full of hate. The next time I opened my eyes, I was back. Back to the day she was crying on her Instagram Live, begging for the case. This time, I walked straight into our rival's law firm. This "sure-win" case? I'm going to make you lose everything.

After getting reunited with my family, I become the copycat whom my mom hates the most. Since the fake heiress, Emily Burk, is a student of an Ivy League institution, I got into graduate school in just three months. After Emily decides to return to the country and establish her own business, I spend a year establishing and developing my business to the point that it becomes the biggest retail company that sells female apparel. When Emily gets featured in the news for her feats as a village teacher, I decide to donate tens of millions of dollars in order to secure a spot on the headlines. While my family can't stomach my behavior, they realize that they can't beat me as well. But when I choose to announce my upcoming marriage right after Emily has made her own announcement, my mom, who hasn't contacted me for three years, calls me on the phone immediately. Apparently, she demands that I delete my pre-wedding photos. "It's bad enough that you keep stealing Emi's thunder! I can't believe you actually stole her husband too! What the hell are you up to, Gabriella?" Emily's fake sobs can be heard echoing in the background. "That's enough, Mom. I asked Derek to tell me the truth. He doesn't even know who Gabriella is! She Photoshopped that photo on purpose just to piss me off!" Who's Derek? Also, my husband, Caleb Ingram, is my childhood sweetheart from the orphanage for 18 years! How did he become someone else's husband anyway? But when Gabriella sends me one of her pre-wedding photos, I find out that the groom in that photo looks exactly the same as Caleb. Isn't that a huge coincidence?

Right after I reunite with my rich biological family, Ruth Stark, the adopted daughter, eagerly helps me fit into her social circle. But those rich scions constantly mock me and force me to drink. They also make crude jokes at my expense. I am furious, while Ruth walks over gracefully and says with a face full of concern, "Don't tease my sister. She just came back from the countryside and is clueless about the way things are here. I will drink for her." Everyone praises her for being kind and magnanimous while further cementing my reputation as a country bumpkin. One day, Ruth plans to take me to another gathering with her friends. Just as I am about to snap, the butler of Mason Frost, suddenly arrives at our door. He says it is a generous gift personally sent by Mason's mother. My parents instantly beam with joy and grab Ruth's hand excitedly. They praise, "You have made us proud, Ruth. It seems the Frost family is very satisfied with you. This marriage alliance is practically settled." Ruth lowers her head shyly, casting a taunting glance at me. But when I see the tag on the gift box, I can't help but laugh. Every employee who joins Frost Group receives this exact welcome gift. If Mrs. Frost finds out someone has mistaken this for a wedding gift for marrying her son, she will probably be very annoyed.

On my very first day at work, I received an unexpected "Carpool Request": "I am currently 3 weeks pregnant. Since I don't know how to drive and for the safety of my baby, I require my colleagues to take turns picking me up and dropping me off." "After some research, I found that your car is worth a lot of money, and it’s less than a year old, meeting my standards for a suitable ride. You will be responsible for driving me home today after work." "I don’t work overtime, so please pack up your things before clock-out time and leave the office on schedule." I frowned and immediately replied: "If you have no shame, I’m happy to donate it to someone who truly needs it!"

The second Zoe reset her life and landed back at the Elite Match Gala, she swapped her token with her half-sister's. No hesitation. Because in her previous life, Connor had married Zoe, but she had died helpless and unloved. It was only on her deathbed that Zoe finally knowed the truth: Connor had loved her sister all along. Now, Connor grabbed the bouquet meant for Vicky, eyes lighting up."Vicky, you're it for me. My one and only." Then he turned to Zoe—and the warmth vanished. "Zoe, you've always been like a little sister to me. Don't even think about stepping into Vicky's place." That hit like a slap. Cold, sharp, humiliating. Everyone thought she was pathetic. But this time, Zoe wouldn’t beg for his love. She would bless them instead—marry the man her father had chosen for her, and never look back.

My neighbor's daughter is sick, and my mother forces me to donate a kidney to her. I've been malnourished since childhood—just drawing blood is enough to cost me my life. However, my mother says, "What does your death matter to me? Rhea is my actual daughter!" Only then do I learn that my mother switched me and our wealthy next-door neighbor's daughter at birth! I glance at my neighbor's daughter, but she's calm and unaffected. I watch as my mother signs the consent form for the operation. My father ties me to the operating table, and my brother performs the surgery. I have no strength to retaliate, so I make one last request—a DNA test with my mother. She agrees—she wants me to stop holding out hope. Later, I forget everything after the surgery, but she breaks down.

On the day of the state-wide exam, the Johanson family's real daughter accused me of cheating. Two perfect-score papers lay side by side, identical in every detail. No matter how I argued, I could not clear my name. Everyone sided with her. They branded me a cheater and cast me out of the Johanson family in front of everyone. To appease her, the Johansons went even further. They used their influence to blacklist me across every industry within their reach. I ended up sleeping on the streets. One hardship followed another until my thoughts dulled and a car struck me with such force that it sent me airborne. Even at the end, one question haunted me: "Why did my paper match hers?" Then I opened my eyes and found myself back in the exam room. This time, I turned in a blank sheet. I wanted to see for myself how someone who scored zero could possibly copy anyone.