Multiple Pov Twists

I've been married to Austin Salazar for five years. Every time I accidentally touch him, he'll force me to kneel in a pool of disinfectants while reciting verses from the Bible. But there was once when I noticed a bright red hickey on Austin's collarbone. Instincts propelled me to touch it for a fleeting moment. While Austin did lose his temper at me before storming out of our home, for once, he didn't tell me to get down on my knees. Naively, I thought that he's starting to get used to my touch. But the next day, my virginity is set to be auctioned off at the auction house where the rich and the powerful of Bannerton regularly visit. The auction will officially start in two days. While Austin's buddies calculate the price they can afford to bid with lewd expressions, he remains unmoved as he keeps cleansing his collarbone with disinfectants repeatedly. "How dare she touch the spot Carol has kissed before! Who does she think she is? Just the sight of her taints my vision!"

When my boyfriend, Sebastian Passini, comes to me in tears, claiming his famiglia has been crippled and backed into a corner, I put everything my famiglia has at stake to pave the way for him. I withstand immense pressure from my famiglia, divert four million dollars, deploy our most elite soldati, and even fall out with my Madre, all to protect him. Yet, on the eve of his "counterattack," I stumble upon his true colors in my famiglia's underground chamber. Angelina Aureli chuckles beside him. "To swallow the Valerini famiglia whole, you put on a fine performance. Are you really going to sit back and watch Isabella hand over her famiglia's foundation to you?" Sebastian sneers, "Why else would I call her a fool? Her trust—and the Valerinis' resources—are nothing but stepping stones for me to rise to the top. Once I have everything in my hands, she and that old hag are dead!" I fish out my phone and revoke the final tranche of resources I had reserved for Sebastian. I should have known from the very beginning. He and I have never been on the same path. He wants plunder and destruction, and I'll make him pay for his greed in blood.

Three days after giving birth, my husband leaves me alone at home to care for the baby, saying that he needs to leave on an urgent business trip. Three days later, I've just arrived at the hospital when I see a family photo his childhood sweetheart has shared on her social media. It's captioned, "This was taken during a trip. We're a happy family of three." I'm surprised to see my husband grinning in the photo and comment on it with a question mark. He immediately calls me to reprimand me. "Do you know how hard it is for her as a single mother? She doesn't have a man to care for her. All I did was take a photo with her. Do you have to be so petty?" That evening, his childhood sweetheart shares a photo of some monetary gifts. "He insisted on giving me this after taking the family photo." I know my husband gave that to her to pacify her. This time, however, I'm ready to leave him.

Sylvia Frost and Victor Rothwell's wedding had been postponed 33 times. This time, it happened on the night before the ceremony. She was struck by a car and left with 19 broken bones. She was rushed to the ICU three separate times before her condition finally stabilized. Once she was strong enough to leave her bed, she braced herself against the wall and shuffled into the hallway. As she reached the corner, she overheard her fiancé speaking with a friend. "Last time it was drowning. This time you used a car. That gets you another two months. What are you going to do next?" Sylvia's blood turned to ice. Victor stood there in his white coat, his phone turning slowly in his hand. "No more delays." His voice remained flat.

For three long years, I was trapped in a toxic relationship with Edwin Kent.During those three years, he started by verbally insulting and controlling me, but eventually escalated to physical violence. Not only did he drain my finances to support his family and lavish my money on his "goddess", but he also impregnated me three times, leaving me to face the emotional and physical toll of abortions alone.Despite the repeated disappointments, I remained blind to the truth. It wasn't until one day when I overheard him asking his goddess, "When will you become my girlfriend?"His goddess laughed and asked, "Aren't you already in a relationship with her, scum?"Edwin nonchalantly responded, "She's the one who won't let go of me. I've always loved you."That was when reality finally slapped me in the face. I left behind my scarred heart and returned to the embrace of my wealthy family.But Edwin refused to let me go. He persistently challenged the boundaries of me and my family.Finally, I couldn't tolerate it anymore. Trash should be thrown into the garbage dump, not wandering around and bothering people.

The life trial system "If You Think You Can Do Better, Prove It" burst onto the scene like a traveling circus promising wonders. The idea was plain enough: "If you reckon someone's life is a mess, and you think you can do better, go ahead and prove it. There's a reward waiting if you do." Before I knew it, my whole family had me pegged for the fool in the middle of the show. There was my mother, dreaming of turning me into some grand goose; my husband, who'd spent years dodging his rightful share of the family load; and my son, mortified by the very sight of me. They shoved me onto the "judgment seat" like I was the villain of the tale. Every last one of them swore up and down that, given my place, they'd manage my life better than I ever could. The stakes? Well, if they pulled it off, my consciousness would be erased—gone, wiped out like a mistake on a chalkboard—and turned into their personal servant. On top of that, they'd waltz off with a cool million dollars. But if they couldn't? Then I'd be the one raking in three million dollars. Now that's a gamble for the ages, isn't it?

My sister-in-law, Cynthia Ziegler, has my name written on her cancer diagnosis report. As such, the entire Ziegler family assumes that I'm the one with cancer. Overnight, my husband, Leonard Ziegler, sends a text message to his mistress, Irene Ludlow. "Our time will soon come! That old bat is about to die at last, so I'll finally be able to marry you!" My grandmother, Amanda Powell, cries and clings onto my hand, begging me not to seek treatment. She is not only discussing with Leonard on how best to split my insurance money after my death but also employing various methods to hasten my death. However, they are all unaware that Cynthia used my medical insurance card when she went for her physical examination. I feign sadness and nod with tears in my eyes. "I won't seek treatment, Mom. Let's not seek treatment no matter who is diagnosed with cancer."

I go to the city where my online boyfriend, Logan Wright, lives to surprise him without telling him first. Instead, I overhear him talking with his friends. "So what if her voice is nice? She's probably ugly as hell if she's reluctant to even send a picture. If the hottest girl on campus hadn't turned me down, I wouldn't even bother messing around with someone like her. "Not only is she ugly, but she's also horny as hell. She keeps saying she has to see what I'm packing down there before we even meet." One of his friends snickers. "So did you show her?" Logan let out a low grunt in agreement. "But it wasn't mine. It was Troy's." His friend blurts, "What the hell? Troy Levine? Your roommate? You said he was at least eight inches. Were you serious?" "Of course. Why would I lie to you? Troy is a real bro. Seeing that I didn't want to send that kind of picture, he offered to do it for me." They freeze for a second, then all burst out laughing. I laugh too. I've heard of body doubles in Showbiz. This is the first time I've seen a body double in online romance. I want every detail on Troy, and I want them in the next three minutes!

The day I died was the same day as my twin sister’s birthday party. She was in tears and was wrapped up in my boyfriend’s arms. My mom was seething with anger and kept calling me over and over again. My brother was clearly upset and sent me a text saying, "You’re so selfish. You just can’t stand to see anyone else happy." Even my usually quiet dad was furious and said, "She’s nothing but an ungrateful brat." I touched my chest. Thankfully, it did not hurt anymore.

I'd been assigned overseas for three months, but I wrapped up my work ahead of schedule and flew home early to spend New Year's Eve with my wife. While waiting for a ride, I scrolled through TikTok and came across a video captioned: [Marrying the one you love feels like winning a war.] Then the scene shifted, and my world tilted. The bride slung over the groom's shoulder… was my wife. At first, I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. But then I spotted familiar faces—her relatives, unmistakable in the crowd. I didn't hesitate. I checked the hotel location tagged in the video and shoved my phone toward the taxi driver. "Change the route. Take me here," I said. "I'm going to catch them in the act."