Jenlisa Story

"Ms. Medici, you've officially purchased the island. It's completely off the grid—once you're in, no one can find you. Also, the custom-made family you requested is ready. They're professionally trained to give you nothing but unconditional love."

During a mission overseas, I shielded my younger brother from an explosion—only to wake up months later, my body broken, my mind trapped in the void of a coma. Grateful for my sacrifice, he repaid me by marrying my wife. When I finally clawed my way back to consciousness and rushed home, I found my son kneeling on the ground, sobbing as his college acceptance letter lay shredded in his fists. My nephew loomed over him, slamming a steel pipe into his back. "Lick my shoes clean," he sneered. "Who are you to think you deserve an education?" And there was my wife clapping in delight, dabbing the sweat from my nephew’s brow like a doting servant. "You’re just like your deadbeat father," My wife spat. "Born to be my stepping stone." My eyes bloodshot, I tightened my fists. Every last one of them would pay for this dearly.

The hotel called, politely reminding me that the condoms used last night were unpaid and had been charged to my membership card. I was stunned. I'd been working late until midnight and hadn't set foot in any hotel. I confronted my husband, the only person who knew my card code. Nathan Phelps looked at me, bewildered. "Honey, that hotel costs over $10,000 a night. I'd never go there. It's probably a system error. Someone must have mistyped the card number. I'll file a complaint tomorrow." Unconvinced, I called my best friend, who managed the hotel. "Tracy, check who Nathan was with at the hotel last night. I'm catching him red-handed."

As soon as my husband sat at the dining table, he couldn't stop himself from talking. The humiliations of my school days had become his favorite entertainment, served up to his drinking buddies like appetizers. "Back then, she got her clothes torn off in the bathroom, beaten so badly she crawled on the ground like a dog, too terrified to make a sound. If it weren’t for my kindness—" That was it. I couldn’t take it anymore. I told him I wanted a divorce. He laughed it off, utterly unbothered. "Seriously? It’s just a joke! That was ages ago. You’re way too uptight—it’s just for a laugh, right?" For a laugh? Was I the only one with a past? Did he think he was untouchable? Maybe I should tell a few embarrassing stories about his precious childhood sweetheart. Fine. If it’s all about “fun,” I hoped his sweetheart found it equally hilarious when her turn came.

My in-laws go on a jungle trip and are stung by venomous bees. An exorbitant sum is needed for their surgeries, so I hurriedly call my husband for help. However, as soon as the call connects, he berates me. "They can die if you don't have money to treat them! Why waste the money? Your family isn't mine—what does it have to do with me if they die? Also, Chloe has no money for food. I'm transferring what we have to buy her a meal." He hangs up abruptly and transfers whatever money I have. Meanwhile, his parents die because we didn't pay to save them.

My family was on the brink of bankruptcy. To save us, my dad married me to a rich and powerful family. Before the wedding day, my fiancé demanded a virginity test. I confidently agreed to the test. To my surprise... The man who examined me was actually the doctor who had repaired my hymen three times by now...

My best friend was a "mistress breakup consultant". I had lent her money to start her business, and her very first job turned out to be breaking up my own marriage. "Jessie, what's the point of a loveless marriage? You've wasted Harold's time for five years. Are you really going to keep clinging to him and making him miserable for the rest of his life?" my best friend asked. I laughed at the self-righteous nonsense she was spouting and had security escort her out. She came right back, though, this time with a so-called "Anti-Mistress Alliance", live-streaming the chaos as they broke into my company. "The one who isn't loved is the real intruder!" "Fight for love at all costs!" They chanted while smashing up my office. I watched them calmly, waiting until they wore themselves out before pulling out a contract. "The 100,000 dollars you borrowed from me has been overdue for six months. If you don't repay it soon, I'll be forced to take legal action. "And, the lab equipment you've destroyed is valued at 5,550,000 dollars. You'll need to compensate me at full price. "Otherwise, I'll see you in court."

The new teacher gave the wrong medicine, causing a child to suffer sudden cardiac arrest and die after failing to receive timely help. My fiance, who was also the vice principal, forged evidence on her behalf and pinned all the blame on me. I was fired and reported by the child's parents. Due to insufficient evidence, I was acquitted. But the child's devastated parents broke into my home with a kitchen knife and hacked me to death, severing me in multiple places. My fiance chose to cover it up for them. He disposed of my body and even comforted the parents. "A life for a life. Let this be my atonement." When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day the teacher gave the child the wrong medicine.

My firefighter husband had fallen from a great height during a mission and was rushed into the emergency room, covered in blood. As the only person capable of saving him, I stood just outside the operating room, calm and composed. Reaching for my makeup bag, I began carefully applying my makeup. Another doctor, panic-stricken, rushed toward me and shouted, "Dr. Warhol! The patient's kidney has ruptured! You're the only surgeon in all of Switzerland who can perform this life-saving procedure! If you don’t act now, he’s going to die!" I continued shaping my eyebrows with steady precision, not even glancing in his direction. "Quiet," I said coolly. "If you keep yelling, my brows might end up crooked."

When my wife brought her lover home for the fifth time, I decided enough was enough. I said nothing, not a word of complaint or protest. Instead, I superglued the windows shut and locked the bedroom door from the outside. From the bedroom came the muffled sounds of her little escapade, breathless and feverish, carrying through the walls like a shameful melody no one asked to hear. Calmly, I sat in the living room, picked up the phone, and called my mother-in-law. "Jessie," I said, putting on my best tone of urgency, "it's bad—real bad! Your daughter's locked herself in the bedroom and says she's gonna end it all!"