Odette And Lancelot Story

During the holiday season, a flood hits. The company's warehouse is submerged up to the third floor. Due to the emergency, I have my assistant tell everyone to come back a day early to help. I promise that the company will provide stipends and extra time off to make up for this. But on that day, a Gen Z employee goes live across the internet to report me. "Oh, my God. It's 2025, yet there are still companies forcing employees to adjust their time off and work overtime! Is this heartless boss so broke that she needs to exploit us like this? Will she die if she doesn't squeeze us out of every drop of usefulness? Company notices override the law. Impressive stuff, this is!" Soon, the company ends up on the trending list due to criticism from the online community. Even the regulators come knocking to hold us accountable. In the end, the company is forced to cancel the notice. A lot of equipment isn't salvaged in time, resulting in significant losses. The employee even posts a victory lap. "Give the boss a tiny lesson—see if she dares to force overtime again!" I'm so angry that I laugh out loud. I tell my assistant to cancel the annual benefit we give all employees—an entire month of paid time off for Christmas and the New Year holidays. If we have to stick strictly to the law, then fine. Have it your way!

The student I once sponsored, Lillian Pegg, jacked my identity, slapped on the "rich heiress" title, and started tossing out houses and cars like she was some fairy godmother for "underprivileged" students. Her big mission? Making sure everyone had a roof over their head. My in-laws? Wrapped around her finger. They swore up and down she'd saved their lives. Even Liam—my son with my late husband—acted like she was the only mom he'd ever had. Meanwhile, I was puking blood from ulcers, and everyone treated it like a bad improv act. Liam bought every word out of her mouth. Thought she and my husband were some kind of twin-flame couple and labeled me the evil baby snatcher. Fast-forward: I got locked in a bedroom and left to bleed out. Then I woke up. It was the exact day Lillian was playing Santa Claus. The crowd around her practically worshipped her. "You're the kindest boss in the world! You care about our food, clothes, housing, everything. We'll support you and your company forever!" Yeah, not on my watch. I shut down all her privileges right then and there. This time? Lillian and that backstabbing son of mine were gonna eat regret for the rest of their lives.

When the zombie apocalypse hit, pets leveled up into guardians. Three per person. That was the cap. My buddy dropped serious cash on three Caucasian Shepherds. My landlord dumped his fish and started raising crocodiles. My girlfriend bolted to the zoo and came back with a lion. Me? I had three strays. Bubba—blind. Missy—lame. Snowy—barely a month old. The second the system locked pet slots, I knew I was screwed. I barricaded myself inside with my three "broken" cats and kept my head down. Day one—fear. Day two—helpless. Day three—the cats strolled back in, tails up, dragging something I didn't recognize. Bubba looked at me. "Dad, I bit off every zombie head on the block. I'm solid, right?" I just stared.

My brother convinced my father to give me to the principal of an elite high school. When the principal was treating me like a dog, they showed off to the world with the money and the spot in the high school they had exchanged me for. I knew nothing about this and waited for them to rescue me. It was not until the principal showed me a video of how they were living a proud and happy life that I broke down in desperation and helplessness. On my third failed attempt at escape, the principal whipped me with a leather belt until I was almost dying. After that, he let his precious son, a German shepherd, torture me to death. When I next opened my eyes, I had returned to a time when none of this had happened yet. Well, my dear father and brother, do you think things would work out the way you want this time?

His first love barged into my office and stood before me, mocking, "He doesn't love you at all." I rolled my eyes. "I don't know whether he loves me, but I am Mrs. Brooke now. And who are you, exactly?" I was surprised that there was still someone so clueless in this day and age. Marriage was all about mutual benefit; the idea of love was downright ridiculous. To me, Noah was just a means to an end—a tool that would double my worth. I had never taken him seriously.

When war broke out in Irestan, my fiancé, Everett Jones, caused a scene at the airport and refused to let the evacuation flight take off. He was determined to wait for his precious first love, Annie Scott, who had taken advantage of the chaos to loot a cosmetics counter for luxury goods. By then, the insurgent forces were already closing in. The shriek of explosions grew louder, drawing nearer by the second. With an entire plane full of people in mortal danger, I had no choice. I knocked Everett unconscious and dragged him aboard. After we returned home, far from the battlefield, we lived a period of quiet, comfortable happiness. I truly believed he had finally put that woman behind him. I was wrong. On our wedding day, he tied me up, drove me away, and deliberately crashed the car, killing me. As my life slipped away, I heard his twisted laughter. "Daniela, you're the one who killed my Annie. Because of you, she was killed by an insurgent missile. "She was just a young girl who liked to look pretty. What was so wrong with that? "This is what you owe her. I'm going to make you suffer far more than she ever did." When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the boarding gate, at the exact moment he blocked the plane. This time, I chose to grant his wish and let him stay behind with his beloved first love, together, forever.

The day my sister slipped away from her engagement party, she was certain Marshall Patton could never truly fall in love with me. Confident in her belief, she left the country without hesitation, leaving me behind to hold her place and secure the title of Mrs. Patton in her stead. I didn't cry or make a fuss. Instead, I played the part of the obedient stand-in, giving everyone the courtesy of maintaining appearances while I quietly bided my time. Then, I poured every ounce of effort into making Marshall fall for me, bit by bit. And when my sister finally returned, I made sure to walk away.

“Cassie Vaughn. Failed to crawl into my bed, so you started stealing from my casino?” The giant screen lit up. Every inch of it was covered with my nude photos. “Holy shit. A janitor actually thought she could seduce Lucien Moretti?” “She wanted to climb the ladder so badly she started stealing dirty casino money?” I was shaking with rage. The moment I said, “Those are AI-generated,” the entire room burst into laughter. “You think Lucien Moretti would fake photos for trash like you?” The next second, Lucien slid a phone across the poker table toward me. “Thirty million dollars from my casino.” “How exactly are you planning to pay that back?” But only I knew the truth. Lucien himself had stolen that money. I had simply seen it happen. On the screen, my parents hung from chains inside a warehouse, blood covering their faces. A document titled Organ Valuation Agreement was pushed in front of me. “Sign it.” “Or your parents die.” I fought with everything I had. Still, they dragged me toward the crocodile pit. Then I opened my eyes again. I was back at the poker table. Across from me, the butcher himself lazily rolled casino chips between his fingers. And on the giant screen behind him, my AI-generated nudes were still playing. He smirked. “Still trying to seduce me?” I lowered my eyes and checked the time. Forty-three minutes remained before I would be thrown into the crocodile pit. But I smiled. Lucien Moretti. This time—we’re gambling with your life.

My parents take me to court to get my heart and save my adoptive sister. The judge uses advanced technology to extract our memories. A jury of 100 people decides the verdict. If my parents win the case, my organs will go to them. They think I won't dare to show up for the trial because they think I'm evil. However, everyone is overcome by tears when they see my memories and the truth of what happened!

My husband and his beloved mistress died together in a car accident. They left me with a pair of illegitimate children. Eighteen years passed in a blur. I poured my heart and soul into raising those children until, at last, they earned admission to Corvell University, the country's top university. But on the very day they received their acceptance letters, my 'dead' husband returned. And beside him stood his mistress. She clutched my husband's arm and beamed at me. "Thanks to your tireless care, my two sons finally made it into Corvell. If not for you, the two of us wouldn't have been free to live so happily together all these years..." Later, my husband demanded a divorce. He wanted to marry his mistress and reunite their perfect little family of four. I didn't cry, nor did I rage. I only smiled and said, "Sure."