Male Face Claims

On the way back to work after the New Year, my wife Liana Corn and I got into a car accident. Opening my eyes again, I realized that we had returned to the time we just started dating. In our previous life, we were married for eight years. Life was good, but she refused to have any children. Later, I learned that she had always kept her childhood sweetheart in her heart. After our regression, I decided to set us both free. We both deleted each other's contacts without a word, stopped seeing each other, and became complete strangers. Eight years later, Liana became a top investor. At our class reunion, she made a high-profile announcement with her childhood sweetheart Serge Gibson. Seeing that I had come to the reunion alone, she teased me. "Ryan Carter, I know I'm attractive. You love me for two lifetimes and still can't let go, but you don't need to cling to me like this." I pretended not to hear and took my son by the hand. Liana's face instantly turned pale, her eyes bloodshot. "Didn't you say you'd love only me for life?" she demanded. "How can you have a son with someone else?!"

It's my first time visiting my girlfriend, Jennifer Hayes' family for the holidays. At the dining table, her childhood friend, Duncan Foley, suddenly slams his cutlery down. "How could you bring a prostitute client home for dinner, Jenny?" The atmosphere becomes awkward immediately. Everyone initially thinks that Duncan is running his mouth because he's had too much to drink, but he continues to ramble in a matter-of-fact tone. "My buddy is a part of the anti-prostitution task force! As if I can get the person he's personally arrested wrong!" As he speaks, he tosses a copy of the public security administrative penalty notice onto the table. My name is displayed on it. The sight leaves me stunned. It's true that the anti-prostitution task force arrested dozens of offenders in the city last month. But I'm the one who gave the signature of approval as the newly promoted chief commissioner…

I had my meal and was about to leave my sister's restaurant, but the manager stopped me. "Sorry, sir, but you haven't paid your tab." I never saw this guy before. He probably had no idea who I was. Kindly, I explained, "Put it on your boss' tab. She knows what to do." The manager instead gave me a look of derision. "Sir, we're a 3-star Michelin restaurant. We do not put anyone's bill on another person's tab." He handed me an itemized bill. The guy had it ready and printed. I went through the list. The meal alone cost 75 grand. The 'dining utensil gleam maintenance fee' ran up to 45 hundred. There was also an exclusive air purifier fee, which would cost 75 hundred. And there was a 'VIP calm headspace service fee' that ran up to 15 grand. Those were the ones that stood out, but they were far from the last. I had no idea my sister was running an extortion gig. Mirthlessly, I laughed. "I'm your boss' brother. Tell her she's talking to me when she comes home." The manager did not let me go. "Just say you can't afford it. You're not the first one to try and claim you know Ms. Grayheim. I know leeches like you well enough." I texted my secretary. 'Tell my sister she either fires this guy, or I pull my funds out.'

On my birthday, Hazel Mosley posts about preparing a surprise for me that night on social media. However, I see a photo of her taken that afternoon. She is riding a horse with her assistant, Cecil Wilcox. In the photo, her clothes are fluttering, revealing red finger marks on her waist. Cecil's caption read, "My first ever experience is thanks to her." The comments section is full of teasing remarks. "You've got bold intentions, young man." "That position is hard to maneuver." Unbelievably, Hazel likes that comment. My heart sinks to my stomach. I always think she's just more open with me, but I never expect that it could be anyone. I personally wash the horse to wipe away every trace of intimacy. Then, I transfer the entire ranch to her. "You can give the rest of the horses to whoever you want. Feel free to pick." Looking at how overjoyed she is, I agree to the marriage arranged by my family.

The night before our wedding, word spread like wildfire through high society that my fiancee had thrown herself a bachelorette party with ten virgins. When I storm into the villa, I find her nestled in the arms of my chauffeur's son, her skin blotched with fresh red marks. "It's just a wild night before the wedding. You get that, don't you?" Melissa Young says. She looks up at me with indifference, not bothering to explain herself. I catch the smug challenge in the eyes of the man holding her. My eyes burn red as I hurl the wedding invitations to the floor. "The scandal is everywhere! Have you even thought about what tomorrow's wedding will look like?" I yell. "This isn't just about you and me. It's about the future of both our families' businesses! Call a press conference and explain yourself." She frowns, irritation flickering in her eyes, but gives a grudging nod. Yet the next day, the internet explodes with a new bombshell—the Zucker heir is impotent, leaving his fiancee unsatisfied. When I demand answers, Melissa puts her foot down, her voice dripping with venom as she says, "All I see now is Nicky." She snaps, "No matter how many times you threaten to pull your investments, my mind's made up!" In that moment, the last ember of love I feel for her goes out. I call my dad, my resolve steeled. "Cut off all funding to Young Group, and buy out every one of her partnerships at triple the price!"

According to company policy, anyone who achieves the feat of being the top salesperson for three years in a row will receive a thousand-square-foot apartment as a bonus. To achieve this goal, I work day and night, chasing every order I can find. But once I finally meet the criteria, I'm told that the policy has been abolished. Saul Hurst, my direct superior, brushes me off with a bonus of 500 dollars instead. Smirking at me, he says, "Being good at sales is all well and good, but you still need to improve your understanding of the company's rules and values. "Young people need to stay humble and know their place. Don't keep trying to show off. It isn't good to constantly hog the spotlight." I don't lose my temper. Instead, I manage to stay unusually calm as I took the "massive bonus" I got in exchange for three years of hard work. Two days later, our company headquarters conducts its annual sales evaluation. When one of our clients offers me a sales deal worth eight million dollars, I turn it down on the spot. After all, I believe that part of what it means to be professional is to do as my superior says. Since I'm supposed to stay humble and know my place, I've chosen to keep a low profile and not do anything that puts me under the spotlight. Besides, even if our branch fails to meet the total sales target, I'm not the one who's going to be held accountable for that.

"Sorry, but we've oversold the seats in this flight. We'll give you a compensation. Please get off the plane right now." The manager of the airline company keeps a firm grip on my luggage. I look at him coldly before turning to look at the woman, who's covered in branded apparel from head to toe. After all, the manager has just welcomed her onto the plane. "Why does that latecomer get to board the plane? Meanwhile, I'm the one who's bought my own ticket at the regular price, am the one who gets kicked off the plane!" The manager chortles in return. He lowers his voice before mocking me, "That's because she's Kellie Castille, the heiress of the top-tier medical conglomerate in Jorleton! She's in a hurry to travel to Jorleton to hire the mysterious miracle doctor in order to save her life! "I don't care how urgent your matter is—there's no way it can be even more urgent than Ms. Castille's! If you cause any sort of delay to her business, nothing you do can ever make it up to her! Now hurry up and get off the plane!" A few security guards drag me off the plane forcibly. Just like that, I'm forced to watch the door close before my eyes. Fury courses through my veins at that moment. According to the manager, that Kellie woman is afflicted with a terminal disease. What he doesn't know is that I'm the "mysterious miracle doctor" who the Castilles have been begging for the past three months to accept their request. Today is the day I finally agree to fly to Jorleton in order to perform the life-saving surgery on Kellie. Since Kellie has already kicked me off the flight, I won't be going through with the surgery, then. Kellie can go to hell for all I care!

It's Family Day at my daughter, Hannah Neel's, preschool, but my wife, Samantha Miller, says she has to work and tells both Hannah and me not to go. Seeing the disappointment on Hannah's face breaks my heart, so I bring her to school anyway. As soon as we step through the gates, I see Samantha. She's holding her childhood friend—Oscar Barnett's—hand, with a little boy clutching her other. The three of them look like a perfect family, laughing and chatting, as if they belong together. When Samantha sees us, her smile fades, and she lets go of Oscar's hand. "Zach, it's not what you think. Oscar's raising his son alone. Today's his fifth birthday, and he just wanted to give him a little taste of a mother's love," she says quickly. I study her for a moment, then kneel and gently take Hannah's hand in mine. "Sweetheart, say hello to the lady."

To raise funds for earthquake victims, I shed my business suit and put on a simple vest, choosing to live-stream while offering a designated driver service. At 3:00 am, I take on my final job for the day—and end up running into Owen Kramer, a former high school classmate. Reeking of alcohol, he tosses the money for my service onto the ground and spits on it before telling me to pick it up. "You were the top of our class, weren't you? Why have you been reduced to working as a gig driver, huh? You need money, right? Go on, then. Pick it up. That 50 is yours." Unbeknownst to him, his nasty behavior is being live-streamed online for everyone to see. Also, I just so happen to be the CEO he's been trying to cozy up to.

When I was five years old, I was kidnapped by the human traffickers. Later on, I was abandoned at Dreadvault Isle's prison meant for serious offenders located in the infamous no-man's land of Cloudguard Continent. In order to avoid dying from starvation, I clung to Edgar Blythe, who was a serial killer with the highest bounty known on the Internet, and called him "Grandpa Eddie". Then, I moved to grip Franklin Graves, a former boxing champion, by his diamond-crusted belt just to beg for scraps. Finally, I entangled myself around a top-tier assassin's leg while yelling at the top of my lungs, "As long as you don't let me starve to death, I'll make sure to take care of you once you grow old!" All the international mercenaries, arms dealers, and professional assassins were stunned by my declaration. In the end, they gave me some leftovers from their own plates. That was how I was raised in prison. Since my grandpas have enemies all over the globe, the first thing I do after returning to the country is act like a cowardly impoverished student. When I'm a college sophomore, Leonard Hargrove, a rich scion from a conglomerate, has accused me of stealing his laptop. He even beats me up relentlessly on the campus field and breaks three of my ribs by stomping on my chest. To make things worse, he forces me to swallow blood-drenched soil. I'm in so much pain that I've practically gone nuts and bitten off half of Leonard's ear as a result. Jordan Chappel, the dean of the college, kicks me to the floor when I meet him later on in his office. "Do you really think you're in the right for stealing from someone else, you broke bastard? All he did was hit you a few times! It's not like you'll die from those attacks! "You'd better tell your guardians to come here as soon as possible! I want to see them groveling to me and apologize on your behalf!" After spitting out a mixture of blood and saliva, I turn to stare Jordan dead in the eye. "Are you sure you really want my guardians to show up?"