Nfrc 100/200

My roommate won first prize in the national lottery, a full 100 million dollars. She quit her job on the spot, blocked her boss, and said to me, "Amanda, from now on, we'll live in Luxuria Heights, eating the best food and living it up." We went on shopping sprees at Hermès and treated Michelin restaurants like our daily canteen. On moving day, she told me to go ahead to the top-floor luxury apartment and wait for her. She said she needed to pick up a package. Excited, I entered the password she had given me. "Beep. Incorrect password." I was just about to try again. Then, the door opened. The person who came out was not my roommate but a stranger in a suit. He looked at me and frowned. "Who are you? Why do you have the password to my home?" I was stunned. "This is Lydia Zaydn's apartment. Who are you?" The man's expression turned strange. "Lydia Zaydn? I've lived here for five years. I've never heard of that name."

During the school holidays, I took my daughter to a park. I had barely entered the park entrance with my daughter when a supercar crossed the solid line and rear-ended us. The man who jumped out came storming toward me, furious. "Do you even know how to drive? Do you know how much this car costs? You can't afford it even if you went bankrupt!" I was about to argue back since he was clearly the one breaking traffic rules. But I froze. That car looked painfully familiar. Wasn't that the supercar my mother gave me the first year I took over the Milton Group? Even the license plate was identical. My wife, Hazel Bishop, had told me the engine was broken and that she'd sent it to the dealership for repairs. I met the man's arrogant stare. "Is this car really yours?" He paused, then grinned smugly. "My wife bought it for me. It's limited-edition. Someone like you wouldn't understand. Go call your family and sell your house. You owe me 200 thousand dollars." Sneering, he added, "Don't try anything clever. My wife's the GM of Milton Group. She has serious connections. She'll be here any minute." I let out a cold laugh. So Hazel canceled on our daughter today, not because of a business meeting, but because she was out spending the holiday with her lover and his kid instead.

On the fifth year of my marriage with Stefano Calderone, his older brother, Don Giovanni Calderone, sacrificed himself to protect him during an ambush. When Stefano inherited Giovanni's position as the next Don, he also inherited Giovanni's widowed wife, Camilla Bianchi. Every night, after leaving Camilla's room, he'd embrace me and say, "Alessandro, you're my actual lover. Once Camilla gets pregnant, I'll register our marriage once again and ensure that you and our son will have proper positions in the Calderone family." For the next six months, he slept with Camilla 200 times in a row. At first, he'd only spend one night with her per week. But gradually, it shifted into a regular schedule of nightly visits in her room. After their 201st coupling, the news of Camilla being pregnant gets spread throughout the villa. Soon after, news of Stefano and Camilla getting married breaks out. My son, Niccolo Calderone, grips the hem of my clothes while asking me innocently, "Mommy, didn't Daddy tell us that he'd give us a home? Why is he marrying another woman, then?" I just ruffle his hair in return. "Daddy no longer belongs to us. But it's okay, Niccolo. Mommy will take you back to our real home." Stefano will never find out that I'm not as alone as he thinks in this world. The truth is, I'm the principessa of another powerful mafia family in Sirelia. I never wanted the position of the Calderones' Donna, to begin with.

Ibu mertuaku mengalami kecelakaan mobil dan masuk ke ruang gawat darurat. Setelah menelepon suamiku yang merupakan seorang pengacara sebanyak lebih dari 20 kali, barulah dia menjawabnya. "Kamu bikin ulah apa lagi? Stacy lagi ada sedikit masalah, aku lagi bantu dia. Jangan bikin keributan." Aku menahan perasaan tertekan dan memberitahunya bahwa ibu mengalami kecelakaan dan memintanya mentransfer 200 juta. Namun, dia malah percaya pada ucapan mantan kekasihnya, lalu memarahiku. "Apa hubungannya kecelakaan ibumu sama aku? Jangan harap bisa ambil uang dariku untuk keluargamu. Jangan ganggu, aku lagi sibuk!" Telepon ditutup dengan tergesa-gesa. Tak lama kemudian, mertua dinyatakan gagal diselamatkan dan meninggal dunia. Tiga hari kemudian saat persidangan dimulai, aku malah melihat suamiku duduk di kursi pembela. Dengan penuh keyakinan, dia membela mantan kekasihnya yang mabuk dan menabrak orang. Dengan kepandaiannya dalam berbicara, dia berhasil membuat mantan kekasihnya bebas dengan alasan "bukti tidak cukup". Hatiku benar-benar hancur. Setelah sidang selesai, aku langsung mengajukan perceraian. Dia malah panik. "Ibuku baik sekali sama kamu. Kalau kamu cerai sama aku, dia pasti akan sedih!" Aku hanya tertawa sinis dan melemparkan kwitansi biaya rumah sakit dan surat kematian ke wajahnya. Dasar bodoh ... dia bahkan belum tahu, ibunya sudah tidak ada.

When I go home for the holidays, I find out that my dad has installed a facial recognition machine at the front door. "You'll have to pay an entry fee of 50 thousand dollars. Will you be paying by card or payment code?" I thought my dad was joking at first. As I laugh, I attempt to walk through the front door while pushing my luggage forward. But my mom passes me a price list with an icy look. "That'll be 200 dollars for dragging stuff across the floor. You'll also be charged 1,000 dollars per hour for using up the air." I'm stunned by her words. "Mom, stop messing around already!" But when I walk into the house, I realize that the air inside has disappeared. Unable to breathe, my face soon turns bright red out of suffocation as I kneel down on the floor. My mom huffs coldly again. "If you want to live, then pay up!" With great difficulty, I dig out my phone and pay the fees. Once the transaction is done, I can feel air rushing through my nostrils and into my lungs. For a few moments, I pant heavily. As I stare at my cold-looking parents, I finally feel that something is off. So, I scramble up to my feet and rush for the door. But that's when I find out that the front door is already welded shut. There's a payment code pasted on the door as well as a message. "Exit fee. One million dollars."

Chase Grimm's aide-de-camp sent me a screenshot of an Instagram Live status. Guess who it came from. His new secretary. She was showing off a meticulously prepared lunch from a lunchbox. My handiwork, no less. I made it for him. The caption read: [He's a dark, cold CEO… and a shiny knight who saved a hungry princess with a gastric problem from eating mac 'n' cheese again!] Chase almost never posted on Instagram. Yet there he was, sharing a photo of a cup of ridiculously spicy mac 'n' cheese, captioned: [I have missed this.] The nerve of this prick. Then my mother-in-law sent an entirely unsolicited text: [What the heck were you doing?! You're supposed to make him a proper lunch! He can't stand spicy food!] After all that, I decided to call a supermarket. "Hi! I'd like to order 100 cups of instant super-spicy mac 'n' cheese and have them delivered to Grimm Co. Please and thank you." "Ain't I generous?"

Braving a downpour, I delivered a lavish food order, anticipating the hefty commission and a $100 tip. Laughter suddenly echoed from the villa. Someone started, "He really believes your car crash left you paralyzed? He's hustling deliveries to support you and even pawned his dad's heirloom?" Another said, "What if he discovers you're actually a billionaire heiress, just playing poor? He'd probably break down in tears." Jessica Stark toyed with her wine glass. "Guys like him are wired to serve, especially since he always outshone Mark in our school days. This is his comeuppance." I stood in the relentless rain, a bitter chuckle escaping my lips. Turned out, her two-year charade of paralysis was merely to avenge her childhood sweetheart. Her broken legs, deceased parents, and helpless tears were all meticulously crafted lies. Disillusioned, I dialed my estranged tycoon mother. "You win. I'll go through with the arranged marriage."

On the day before the marking ceremony, my Alpha mate, Zev Briarwood, is wounded in a battle and loses his memory. He forgets everything… including me. To help him restore his memories and Alpha pride, I go all out. I seek out an evil witch to trade my precious heartblood and fangs for her magic, nearly dying in the process. I sketch jewelry designs day and night, selling them just to earn money and to find every possible memory cure. When I drag my battered body to visit Zev at the clinic, I overhear him laughing with his buddies. "Your acting's next level, Zev! Kira still hasn't figured out you're faking it, and you've delayed the marking ceremony!" A buddy snickers. Zev gulps his wine and grins. "I'm definitely winning the bet that I'd sleep with 100 women at parties. Once I've had my fun, I'll go back to her for my mate duties and complete that marking ceremony."

Wilona, seorang wanita cantik pewaris tunggal dari keluarga kaya raya, yang rela menikahi lelaki dengan status sosial biasa saja, bahkan cenderung menengah ke bawah. Wilona juga dengan senang hati menyerahkan seluruh urusan perusahaan pada suaminya, dia lebih memilih fokus untuk menjadi ibu rumah tangga, yang tentunya selalu melayani suaminya dengan sangat baik. Rosa, dia adalah sekretaris Bramasta, suami Wilona. Wilona dengan senang hati menyetujui agar Rosa yang hanya tamatan SMA, bisa sekolah lebih lanjut dengan dana perusahaan 100%, hingga Rosa benar-benar bisa menjadi sekretaris perusahaan yang sangat bisa diandalkan. Namun, air susu dibalas dengan air tuba, setelah semua yang diberikan oleh Wilona, Rosa malah ingin merebut Bramasta, bahkan dia tidak segan untuk menjadi istri kedua. Apakah Wilona akan menyetujui Rosa menjadi madunya? Atau … Wilona akan tetap mempertahankan rumah tangganya dengan Bramasta?

My dormmate invites me to a college mate's engagement party. I choose an expensive tailor-made gown for the occasion. When I arrive at the hotel, I see several of my former classmates are already there. Everyone looks like they're doing well—they're wearing expensive clothing. Someone is even wearing something from a luxury brand. As soon as I enter the private room, a familiar classmate rolls her eyes at me. "Look at who it is—the woman who was once the most outstanding student in our class. You're dressed so plainly for such an important occasion." Everyone is circled around the classmate who's wearing something from a luxury brand. They ignore me. Only our former class monitor clinks glasses with me and consoles me softly. "It's good enough that you're here. You're dressed plainly, but don't give up. You'll succeed one day." I sip my wine and smile. "My outfit may not be too opulent, but it's an expensive, tailor-made piece. It's 100% handcrafted by a master designer."