Karma

Hubunganku, yang tidak direstui oleh Ibu dari suamiku. Ternyata, malah berdampak buruk, terhadap kehidupan rumah tanggaku. Aku, selalu dihina dan diremehkan oleh Ibu mertuaku. Bahkan, kata-kata pedas pun selalu keluar dari mulutnya. Ibu selalu membicarakan kejelekanku, kepada setiap orang. Bahkan, terkadang ia selalu melebih-lebihkannya. Sehingga, orang-orang selalu menilaiku, menantu tidak tahu diri. Selain Ibu, ada juga tetangga yang mulutnya selalu nyinyir, terhadapku. Dia selalu mencari celah buat menghinaku. Tetapi, semua penghinaan yang aku terima, baik dari Ibu mertua atau dari si tetangga. Berangsur menghilang, seiring berjalannya waktu. Karena, kini mereka tahu, kalau aku ini siapa, tanpa harus menunjukan siapa aku. Mau tau tentang kisahku ini, ayo cus baca! Jangan lupa subscribe, kasih komentar serta love di setiap babnya. Terima kasih.

When my family went bankrupt, I was drugged and sent to the bed of my childhood sweetheart, Craig Kennedy. From that night, he brought women home every evening, tossing a divorce agreement in my face. "Beg me, and I won't leave you." He stood above me, watching as I humbled myself to dust, pleading to preserve our marriage. He even ordered me to kneel in his office and massage the feet of his secretary, Lucia Langston. On the day the Moore Group needed ten million to survive, she blocked all my desperate calls for help. I waited 24 hours, watching my family's legacy collapse and my parents take their lives. Craig, with Lucia at his side, entered the house and threw the signed divorce agreement at me again. "You wanted money to save your family, didn't you? Beg me, and as long as I don't divorce you, no one will touch them." But I signed it with calm despair. "Don't bother. We no longer need your help."

Nasib si Bungsu. (Saat masa jaya orang tua telah habis). "Jadwal kontrol Bapak tiga hari lagi, kamu sudah dapat uang buat biaya rental mobil?" tanya Ibuku saat aku baru saja pulang. "Yusup usahain ya Bu, semoga ada rezekinya," jawabku. Sambil melepas jaket yang selalu menemaniku mencari rupiah. "Kalau gak ada ya udah, gak apa-apa. Paling Bapakmu teriak-teriak kalau lagi kumat karena obatnya habis!" ucap Ibu sambil berlalu pergi. Aku tahu Ibu pasti kecewa, lalu bagaimana lagi, aku sudah berusaha keras, dalam hati aku merasa gagal. Uang sebesar lima ratus ribu saja tidak mampu aku cari. Mungkin bagi orang lain tidak seberapa, tapi untukku yang hanya berprofesi sebagai ojek online uang lima ratus ribu sangatlah besar. Apalagi akhir-akhir ini orderan sangat sepi tidak seperti biasanya. Aku duduk termenung di atas sofa lusuh, mataku menatap tiga bingkai besar yang terpajang di dinding, foto ketiga Kakakku saat wisuda. Mereka terlihat sangat gagah dengan toga yang dipakainya

Cinta pertama Jovin Liandra terdiagnosis mengidap penyakit HIV dalam pemeriksaannya di rumah sakit kami. Aku pun melanggar kode etik medis untuk memberi tahu masalah ini kepada Jovin. Jovin mengira aku sedang membohonginya. Dia bukan hanya memfitnahku mencelakai pasien hingga mati, bahkan membuatku dijatuhi hukuman. Kemudian, dia juga menaruh obat aborsi di dalam susuku. Gara-gara hal itu, kandunganku yang berusia delapan minggu mengalami pendarahan. Aku meminta pertolongan dari Jovin, tetapi dia malah menendangku. “Akhirnya nggak ada yang menghalangiku untuk bersama Selena.” Saat aku membuka mataku lagi, aku kembali ke hari di mana cinta pertamanya terdiagnosis penyakit HIV. Kali ini, aku tidak memberi tahu Jovin, bahkan mengajukan putus dengannya. Bagaimanapun juga, Jovin sangat mencintai cinta pertamanya. Aku mesti merestui mereka berdua.

It all started when my sister made an offhand remark while sponsoring a poor student. She told him it was a coincidence that we were born on the same day, at the exact hour too. That comment made him convince himself that he was the real heir, that we were switched at birth. Soon after, he showed up with two thugs, kidnapped me, and planned to kill me to reclaim his life. I called my fiancée for help in desperation. Instead of saving me, she told me impatiently that I deserved to die for stealing his life. Her friend showed up to save me, but neither of us made it out alive after I was pushed into the river. I was back on the day when I was kidnapped when I opened my eyes again. When the poor student laughed and told me to pick someone to leave my last words to, I did not hesitate to call my sister. Their fates were sealed, with another chance at life, I would make sure to make them pay, and show them who the real heir was.

For the sake of my happiness with my boyfriend, I decided to go to the hospital to treat my congenital narrowness. But the attending physician turned out to be my boyfriend's friend—and the treatment plan itself made my face flush and my heart race. "During the course of treatment, there will be a great deal of intimate physical contact. That's unavoidable," he said. "For example, kissing, touching, and…"

My best friend, Cassidy Braun, earned a modest monthly salary of 2,800 dollars, only to constantly trash her doting husband with an annual income of 600,000 dollars, labelling him a broke loser. “That incompetent husband of mine can’t even afford a 20-carat diamond ring! “I have the looks that can bag me a billionaire. I must have been out of my mind to marry that piece of trash.” I chimed in. “You’re right. You’re practically a goddess. Only a Greek God stands a chance with you.” Eventually, Cassidy left her husband and hooked up with a trust-fund kid, just as she wanted. A year later, she was scammed out of every penny she owned and diagnosed with cancer. Fragile and broken, she came to me. “I heard that ex-husband of mine remarried and that he’s loaded now. Judging by the way he used to worship the ground I walked on, I bet he’ll drop the woman in a heartbeat if I ask to get back together.” I gave a dismissive nod while running my fingers along the new Birkin bag my husband had bought. “Oh, absolutely. He’s pretty wealthy now.”

During a critical heart transplant, my doctor husband insisted his intern assist despite her garish nail art compromising the sterile field. When I called her out, he abandoned the patient mid-surgery to comfort her. I begged him to return, but he snapped, "Giselle is upset. Can't you wait? This is nothing compared to her feelings." 40 minutes later, the patient bled out and died. Later, they discovered that he was our highly respected mayor and placed the blame on me. "If it weren't for you causing a scene and kicking us out of the operating room, the mayor wouldn't have bled to death. This is all your fault!" Defenseless, I was sentenced to life in prison, tortured, and died in agony. My husband and his intern walked down the aisle, enjoying their happy life. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of that fateful surgery.

In my last life, my brother Leo—the heir to the Moretti crime family—stripped our estate bare of every last soldier, all for a Vegas jaunt. All because his new flame, Scarlett, had a jones for the high-roller tables. The Volkovs—our rivals, the very ones Leo had just pissed off—saw their opening and stormed our gates. My mother, Sofia, took a bullet meant for me. Died protecting me. I blew up Leo’s phone, my pleas turning to screams. He didn't answer. He waltzed back in after the shooting stopped, bringing our men home, but far too late for it to matter. Then, the news from Vegas. Scarlett was gone. A suicide note left behind. In it, she painted me as the monster. The one who’d leaked our weaknesses to the Volkovs. The one who'd orchestrated a fake kidnapping and torture plot, all to drive her to despair and lure Leo home. A perfect, tragic lie. Leo read the letter calmly. Then he burned the letter and told me, "Forget it. It's handled." Father tore into Leo for abandoning his post, for leaving his family to die. And me? I was named the new Consigliere. But after the celebration, Leo cornered me in the wine cellar. His face was a mask of cold fury as he pressed the barrel of his gun to my forehead. "This is for family traitors," he hissed, his voice pure venom. "The throne is my birthright, not some backstabbing bitch's prize!" When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Right in the middle of the fire and the blood. This time, I shoved my mother behind me, dragging her toward the panic room. And the bastards who were too blind to believe me? They’ll regret it.

When my boyfriend, Mark Jamison, gets in a car accident that leaves him paralyzed, I pawn the ring my mother left to me before she died to help him. With hands that have never been used to do any work or a single household chore in my life, I start lugging around delivery bags. In the middle of a rainstorm, I get assigned to deliver a food order worth 10,000 dollars, with a 100-dollar tip. Just as I happily celebrate my luck, I overhear the raucous laughter coming from inside the villa. "She actually believes you got paralyzed in a car accident? She now spends all day doing deliveries just to support you financially? She even sold off her dead mom's ring?" "She'd probably cry her heart out if she ever finds you're actually a wealthy scion worth tens of billions of dollars, who's just pretending to be poor!" Mark twirls the wineglass he's holding and says, "A lowly woman like her was born to wait on others. She brought it upon herself by always being better than Rosie back in school. Messing with her is the punishment she deserves." I continue to stand in the rain, tears rolling down my cheeks. This is how I find out Mark has spent the last two years faking his condition just to help his childhood sweetheart get back at me. His so-called paralyzed legs, deceased parents, and helpless tears are all just part of a meticulously executed lie. I haven't talked to my father, the richest man in town, for years. But now, I have finally decided to call him. "I lost, Dad. I'll accept the marriage alliance and marry the guy you picked for me."