Kurapika Death

My wife's first love crashes his car into me at 75 miles per hour, throwing my body over 65 feet across the road. As I am moments away from drawing my last breath, I use the remainder of my energy to call my wife. Focused on helping him cover up his crimes, she brushes me off before hanging up. "I'm busy—stop bothering me," she spits. Little does she know, the man who was just killed… is me.

I asked my husband for a divorce during the most difficult year of his life. Everyone condemned me, calling me heartless, but I still forced him to sign the divorce papers. Later, he overcame his struggles and rose to become a powerful CEO. I avoided him for two years, believing I’d never cross paths with him again—until he caught me at my most wretched. His eyes brimmed with hatred as he stared at me. In front of everyone, he humiliated me and relentlessly forced me to down a bottle of vodka. I vomited uncontrollably, blood gushing from my mouth in thick streams. He mocked me, telling me it was the retribution I deserved for betraying him. I didn’t argue. I let him torment me. After all, I was already dying. If that made him content, so be it.

I was Claire Vitale, the lost daughter they forgot, the bride my lover betrayed—and the dying girl they failed to notice. For five long years, I lived like a stranger in my own home. The Vitale mansion was a beautiful prison, where every kind word hid a lie, every promise was false, and even Lawrence, the man I was supposed to marry, cared more for Vanessa than for me. None of them saw how my body weakened each day, how the pain grew sharper. They were too busy watching their precious Vanessa. Vanessa—the perfect adopted daughter, was the girl my parents loved more than me. She came into our family when I was lost, and when I returned, I found my place already taken—by her. Just as the illness was quietly taking my future. Now she was gone, and they all pointed fingers at me, convinced I was behind her disappearance. The machine they strapped to my head would pull memories straight from my mind. "Where is she?" my father roared. My mother sobbed in the corner. Lawrence, my fiancé, stood silent—his accusing eyes louder than any shout. But I knew the truth would shock them—how Vanessa hurt me, how she faked accidents, how she made sure no one ever believed me. The machine would show them everything. As the machine began its work, I trembled—from fear and exhaustion. After all these years of being unheard, would they finally see?

My husband secretly swapped the transplant recipient, giving the kidney that was meant for our daughter to the daughter of the woman he had always loved. Not long after, our daughter's condition worsened. The doctors tried to save her, but it was no use. She didn't make it. At the same time, the other girl's surgery was a success. My husband was so overjoyed that he handed out little gifts to the entire hospital in celebration. Rage and grief overwhelmed me, and I collapsed. When I came to, the doctors told me I had cancer. Late-stage. My time was running out. With nothing left to hold on to, I walked out of the hospital, clutching the urn that held my daughter's ashes. In the cold, empty house, I sat alone and drafted the divorce papers.

My father suffered from serious manic depression. When I was eight, my house was robbed and my mother was killed. I became blind while shielding my father from being stabbed. I became the only solace for my father after that. Anyone who hurt me would suffer my father's wrath. When my classmate made fun of me for being blind, her thermos suddenly exploded a few days later and she was blinded. When the class bully targeted me, he was found lying in an alley the next day. Something had dropped on him from a high building that broke his limbs. Not long after, my father achieved great success in his career. He was known for being a sharp businessman. I continued to be the most important person to him. Whoever dared touch a hair on me was as good as dead. I was lucky that a top medical research center overseas successfully came up with a treatment to restore my eyesight. On the day they removed my bandages, I received my father's wedding invitation. [Rina, I found you a new mother. We'll both dote on you when you come home.] My father told me how gentle and kind my new mother was and how much he looked forward to us meeting each other. I was touched and specially prepared a present for her. However, she instructed her bodyguards to abduct me and bring me to an abandoned factory. "Of all the things to learn in life, how dare a young girl like you learn to seduce another woman's husband? How shameless! How dare you steal something that belonged to my husband's late wife? I'll skin you alive!" My present was flung to the ground and destroyed. She ordered her bodyguards to force themselves on me and broke my bones. She skinned me alive and put plaster all over me to turn me into a statue. She then put me into an exquisite gift box to give to my father as a surprise. "Sweetheart, this is the vixen you've kept hidden from me. I turned her into an angel statue. You can see her every night if you put her in your bedroom. You won't need to sneak out to see her.

My parents have always been biased against me, even as a child. They leave me in the countryside while raising my brother themselves. When I'm finally brought to live with them, they neglect me because they don't want my brother to be upset. When my brother says that I'm rude and falsely accuses me of getting people to assault him, my parents believe him without a shadow of doubt. And so, I'm sent to a residential treatment center. Under my parents' tacit permission and my brother's persuasion, the teachers at the center "educate" me inhumanely. In the end, I learn my lesson, as everyone wishes. I die while learning it, too.

While the criminal was brutally killing me, my dad, the head of the criminal investigation division, and my mom, the chief forensic pathologist, were attending my sister Lily Lambert’s match. In a bid for revenge, the criminal, who had once been captured by my dad, cut out my tongue and used my phone to call him. My dad only said one thing before hanging up. "No matter what’s going on, Lily’s match is the top priority today!" The criminal sneered, "Seems I’ve kidnapped the wrong person. I thought they would love their biological daughter more!" At the crime scene, my parents were shocked by the brutal state of the body and condemned the cruelty of the killer. However, they did not realize that the horrifically mutilated corpse was their own daughter.

My estranged husband suddenly barges into my parents' home, demanding to know where I am. He forces my mother to her knees and pushes my paralyzed father to the floor before beating him up. He even renders our four-year-old son half-dead. Why? Because his true love is disfigured and needs a skin graft to restore her looks. "Where is Victoria? She should be honored that she can do this for Amelia! Hand her over, or I'll kill all of you!" It's too bad I've been dead for a year.

The day I found out I was a match for my dad—stage four leukemia—I bailed. Mom tore the world apart looking for me, but yeah, she had to watch him go. After that, she drowned herself in research, built a name, even adopted this perfect little angel. We crossed paths again at some fancy leukemia conference she was hosting. I was on the demo table. She took one look and scoffed. "Charlotte Stein, not the time for your crap. Get up and go." The host blinked, stunned. "Dr. Cooper... you know this cadaver?" She actually laughed. "What, she paid you for this stunt?" The host turned ghost-white. "M-Miss Stein passed three days ago..."

Rogues suddenly attacked the werewolf hospital. My husband, the captain of the rescue team, rushed over. Everyone thought he had come to protect me. But he rushed straight to his teammate Ayla, completely oblivious to the rogue behind him raising a dagger. Without thinking, I lunged forward and pushed him out of the way. But to my surprise, he grabbed me and held me in front of his childhood friend. The dagger pierced my abdomen, killing our pup. When my colleagues tried to save me, my mate, Paolo Greco, pulled them away. “Save Ayla first! If anything happens to her, I’ll sue your hospital in the werewolf court!” My colleagues looked at him in shock. “But your mate is bleeding heavily! She can’t even stand up now! Ayla only has a cut on her arm; her condition isn’t critical.” I clutched my bleeding abdomen. Heartbroken, I told my colleagues to save her first. “Forget it. Save her first.” Paolo, you saved my life once. I am returning the favor. From that moment, we owe each other nothing. We should never meet again.