Parts Of A Story Plot

I give birth to my child after accepting a sperm donation. Later, my CEO husband passes away due to an illness. After I take over the company, I take five years to strike a balance between work and caring for my daughter. On her birthday, a shrew makes me out to be a mistress. "Look at how scantily clad you are—you're doing it to seduce my husband, aren't you?" I explain that I'm single, but she slaps me and snarls, "How dare you claim to be single! Your daughter looks just like my husband! I'll show you today what the consequences of wrecking someone's family are!" She drags me away like I'm a dog before the kindergarten's entrance as my daughter watches. The shrew isn't satisfied with that. She laughs cruelly and says, "I'll show your daughter what a shameless woman you are." Then, she throws herself into a man's arms. "How are you going to reward me for getting rid of a woman who thinks she can have you after having your child, honey?" I look up to see the doctor who helped me with my test tube baby back in the day. He's now my subordinate.

My brother-in-law started making a fuss about wanting to spend Christmas vacation at the beach, so I decided we'd make it a family trip. When my husband's adoptive sister got wind of it, she insisted on tagging along with her kid. Without a second thought, my husband went ahead and booked plane tickets for everyone—except me. He expected me to drive there with all the luggage. I thought at least someone in the family would speak up for me, but no, they all sided with him. Fine. If that's how they want it, then we'll go our separate ways—what's theirs is theirs, and what's mine is mine. But the moment I took that stance, the whole family suddenly started panicking…

My younger sister, Sophie Sawyer, got pregnant before marriage, gave birth to a baby boy in a small clinic, and then disappeared. The doctor used the address she left behind to find my family and handed the child to me. My parents knelt and begged me to raise him, and that was how I, an unmarried young woman, struggled through life with a child on my hip. When I finally managed to raise him, Sophie came back, standing beside a big-shot boss dripping in gold. She held her son and cried, accusing me of being jealous of her, stealing her child, and tearing them apart. My nephew cut ties with me without hesitation, choosing her over me. My parents kicked me out of the house. The neighbors all condemned me. In despair, I jumped to my death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Sophie gave birth.

The housekeeper became my stepmother, and together with her son, they humiliated and murdered me. After being reborn, I exposed a video of her affair with her lover at her wedding, destroying her reputation completely. I watched as she and her son were kicked out. They left with nothing, wandering the streets like outcasts. I smiled and tossed a moldy piece of bread into their begging bowl. “This is all you deserve.”

My mom treated me like the dirt beneath her shoes but worshiped my cousin like a queen. Since I could walk, I had scrubbed clothes and cooked meals, but I would still be yelled at or smacked if I messed up. On the contrary, my cousin twirled in princess dresses and played the piano. She was cherished by my aunt and uncle like she was the center of their world. Then came the day everything changed. At my cousin's birthday party, my mom got drunk and spilled the secret—she switched me and my cousin at birth. It turned out that I wasn't her daughter; I was my aunt's daughter. I was over the moon. Finally, I thought I'd found my real family, people who might actually care about me. But when I told my aunt, she just smirked. "You think I didn't know? I don't want you. You'll never be my daughter." Her words hit me like a bucket of ice water. I couldn't understand. Why didn't anyone want me? But that day, I made a vow—I'd never beg for anyone's love again. Years later, when I got into Mayward University—the best educational institution in the country—I threw two DNA test reports on the table in front of them. For the first time, they both looked terrified.

The butler's son took my secondary credit card and burned through my money so he could play the part of a trust-fund prince everyone envied. He made me, his employer's real daughter, bring him lunch every day and run errands for him. In front of his classmates, he smeared me as his family's servant and a desperate girl chasing after him. He even stole my family's heirloom jewelry to impress the campus belle. I finally hit my limit. I decided to give him a lump sum and cut ties completely, treating it as payment for the life-saving favor he once gave me. But after I brought it up, he and his father poisoned my family's food and seized every bit of our property for themselves. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in my college classroom. Facing the butler's son, who was still flashing the wealth he stole from me, I took his card and cut it in half. "If you keep pretending like this, your butler dad's salary won't cover the act."

On our 40th wedding anniversary, I discovered that my beloved husband, Derrick, had been cheating on me. Even our marriage certificate had been forged. The woman he cheated with was his foster sister, Jasmine. I confronted Derrick with the evidence, but he only looked irritated. "I've already treated you well enough in this lifetime. Jasmine is my true love. I will marry her and have children with her." Even my son tried to convince me. "Just be grateful. My real parents never went public with their relationship all these years for your sake. You are old now. What else can you do?" That was when I learned the cruel truth. The Mafia heir I had raised with my own hands was not even my biological child. Back then, Jasmine and I gave birth on the same day. To make sure Jasmine's baby would inherit the Mafia family my father left to me, Derrick secretly switched our children. Because of their negligence, my biological child later died from a simple cold. The cruelest irony was that I had raised Jasmine's son as my own and helped him reach the top of the Mafia hierarchy. When the truth finally hit me, I coughed up blood and fainted. When I opened my eyes again, I had gone back in time to the very day I gave birth.

To help my surgeon husband with his erectile dysfunction, I made an appointment with an expert six months in advance. But as the day approached, Isiah Coleman canceled it without explanation. Just as I was about to call him to demand answers, I spotted a post from his female friend on her social media. My usually stoic husband was beaming as he wrapped his arms around her. The caption read: [Only I can cure your illness.] What struck me, though, was the telltale bulge in his pants in the photo—a reaction I'd never seen from him with me. With a cold laugh, I liked the post and left a comment: [What a miracle worker!] The post exploded, with everyone speculating whether I'd confront the mistress. But what awaited him after the holiday was our freshly printed divorce certificate.

My boss gives me 200 thousand dollars in cash so I can pay his workers their salaries. I leave the house to buy some envelopes to put the money in, but that's when my father lends the money to our neighbor so they can buy a house. I question him about it, but he says I know nothing about forging relationships. Even my mother and brother blame me for not keeping my things properly—they say I'm dumb for leaving money lying around when I know my father likes to lend money to others. Later, my boss fires me but doesn't call the cops. All he wants is for me to repay him. To do so, my father finds me a high-paying job. It's only when I get there that I realize I'm supposed to be an old man's housekeeper. On my first day there, he violates me. I want to call the cops, but my father tells me to be forgiving of him. After that, the old man's daughter thinks I seduced her father and has me beaten to death. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the day my father lent money to our neighbor.

During lunch, an older female colleague asked me, "How old are you? Do you have a boyfriend? When are you planning to get married?" I shook my head. "Twenty-seven, no boyfriend, and no plans to get married." She was momentarily stunned. "What are you talking about? How can a woman not get married?" she asked. I smiled without responding. Realizing I wasn't joking, her expression darkened. "Did you work as a escort and get caught? Is that why no man wants you?"