Parts Of A Story Plot

After a century of war between humans and the Otherkin, both sides finally agree to a ceasefire. To preserve peace and coexistence, an intermarriage pact is established—every hundred years, humans and the Otherkin must marry. The first Otherkin to produce an Otherkin child will become the chairman of the Otherkin Alliance. In my last life, I married Kevin Walker, the famously devoted Alpha of the Whitefang pack. One year after our wedding, I gave birth to a wolf pup, and Kevin ascended smoothly to the chairman of the alliance. My sister, Meredith Singer—driven by vanity and a thirst for power—married Simon Lynch, the leader of the vampires. However, she didn't expect his chaotic private life, overflowing with mistresses, to leave her with a disease that robbed her of her ability to bear children. Bitter over her ruined life, Meredith blamed everything on me. She drugged both me and my pup before setting a fire that burned us alive. "Annabelle, everything you have should've been mine! I should be the one married to the Alpha! I should be the chairman's mate! You're nothing!" As the fire roared around us, I clutched my pup tightly in my arms. He sobbed against my chest. "Mom... it hurts..." I couldn't do anything but watch as the flames consumed us both. In the final moments of my life, I saw someone I never expected—the zombie king, Landon Zeller. Without hesitation, he charged into the inferno, cradling me and my pup in his arms, trying desperately to save us. However, it was too late. We'd already taken our last breaths.

My stepson, Lucas Lincoln, is trapped in a fire. After calling the fire brigade, I quickly ring my husband, Jasper Lincoln. Jasper is the leader of a search-and-rescue team, after all. But to my dismay, Jasper is currently keeping his ex-wife, Yvonne Schmidt, company. Yvonne has won the "Forensic Doctor of the Year" award, and so they are out celebrating it. My phone calls are rejected again and again. Jasper never once calls me back, even after Lucas' cries for help disappear entirely. By the time the fire brigade arrives to quell the flames, Lucas has been burned to a crisp. I tell Jasper what happened to our son, but he only gleefully says, "He was nothing but a troublemaker who'd contribute nothing to society. If he's dead, then so be it. This way, he won't grow up to become a menace. "Yvonne happens to be giving a public talk tomorrow and is still in need of a specimen demonstrating burn injuries. She can use Noah's corpse for her demonstration since it's still fresh." I sneer. So Jasper thinks that my own son, Noah Green, is the one who died in the fire. I immediately send Lucas' blackened corpse to Yvonne's operating room.

Oscar Miller was Shirley Bishop's personal bodyguard, but when she got attacked on her birthday, he shielded her foster sister, Myra Bishop, with his own body. Shirley got cut three times—once across her face, once on her arm, and a third that stabbed her lower abdomen, leaving her unable to have children ever again. But even after all that, she still wanted to marry him. Later, Oscar did marry her—but he never touched her, not even once, all the way until his death. At his funeral, the insurance company showed up. "Mr. Miller purchased a large insurance policy before his death. The beneficiary is Ms. Myra Bishop." That was when Shirley realized that after all these years, Oscar had never gotten over Myra. Now, she had been reborn to when her father asked her to choose from four men she had grown up with to be her husband. This time, she decided to fulfill his wish and picked someone else.

Fresh out of college, Clara Stewart asked me to take on a $500,000 mortgage for her. When I refused, she turned around and bought an $800,000 villa in full, for another guy. Holding up the property deed, she told me: "Jayden, the truth is, I'm actually rich. I've been pretending to be poor to test you. Unfortunately, you failed. I'm disappointed in you. Let's break up." I simply smiled and walked away without a second thought. The irony? I'm the son of the richest man in the country. I was pretending to be broke, too. Fast forward four years, we met again at the National Wealth Summit. Clara had just barely made it into the top 50 on the list, clinging to the arm of Henry Brown as they entered. She spotted me in simple clothes with no visible brand, holding a child in one arm and the keys to a Porsche Cayenne in the other. Thinking I was someone's driver, she sneered: "Jayden, you really went all out just to see me again? Let's be real, you're just a driver now, and I'm on the wealth list. We live in completely different worlds. Don't waste your time fantasizing." I did not bother replying. Honestly, I was only there because my billionaire dad insisted. I had finally cleared a day to spend with my son and now I had to waste it on that.

Just a few days before my wedding, I accidentally come across a post while scrolling online. The title reads, "To the guy getting married in this city, your fiancée's already cheated on you." Curious, I click in to see the gossip, only to realize I'm the one being talked about. A deep male voice plays in the video. "I heard you're getting married?" The woman in the frame, bare-backed and trembling, chokes back a sob. "After you left, I realized you're still the one I love most. I'm done with him. Take me away, please!" The moment I hear her voice, it feels like someone punches me straight in the chest. Then I notice something on her wrist—the luxury couple's bracelet I gave her just yesterday. And in that instant, I feel like the biggest joke of all. Turns out the fool was me.

The second Zoe reset her life and landed back at the Elite Match Gala, she swapped her token with her half-sister's. No hesitation. Because in her previous life, Connor had married Zoe, but she had died helpless and unloved. It was only on her deathbed that Zoe finally knowed the truth: Connor had loved her sister all along. Now, Connor grabbed the bouquet meant for Vicky, eyes lighting up."Vicky, you're it for me. My one and only." Then he turned to Zoe—and the warmth vanished. "Zoe, you've always been like a little sister to me. Don't even think about stepping into Vicky's place." That hit like a slap. Cold, sharp, humiliating. Everyone thought she was pathetic. But this time, Zoe wouldn’t beg for his love. She would bless them instead—marry the man her father had chosen for her, and never look back.

The admissions office calls and says my daughter's admission fee has been paid, asking when I'll come to handle enrollment. I'm completely stunned. My daughter, Natalie Steward, is top of her class. She's already guaranteed a spot in the city's best high school, Dream High School, with no admission fee required. Upon questioning my husband, Arnold Lewiston, he claims the admissions office must've made a mistake. He says, "I just wanted to surprise you, so I pulled some strings with the principal to get her into the accelerated track. You should talk to the teachers and make sure we get the best homeroom teacher so I can look good." As soon as I end the call, I slam the accelerator and head straight to the admissions office. On my way there, I call Lynn Warrens, my best friend who works in the State Department of Education. "Help me check under whose name Arnold paid the admission fee for his illegitimate child. I'm going to withdraw them from the school!" I say.

On the eve of our wedding, Evelyn Gates fell to her death. Everyone believed that, since I had always been devoted to her, I would take my own life to follow her. However, I didn’t shed a single tear. Three years later, I saw her again. Not only was she alive, but she had no memory of the past. “So you’re my ex-fiancé? After all these years, why do you look so broke and shabby now? For old time’s sake, I’ll give you one day a week to wait on me.” I didn’t even bother to look her in the eye. Evelyn had no idea that, on the very night she fell, I received a video recording. She didn’t know that, during the three years she spent pretending to have amnesia while traveling the world with Cole Anderson, I had gotten married. My bride was her older sister.

On the eve of my engagement banquet, news broke that my fiancé had fathered a child with his mistress, and it spread like wildfire. Before I could confront him, Jayden Ford brushed it off casually. "It was just an accident. Focus on organizing the engagement banquet first. Besides, your dad’s in the late stages of stomach cancer. Calling off the engagement now won’t do either family any good." That night, he skipped the banquet but posted a photo of a swaddled newborn on social media. When I video-called him, he was bottle-feeding the baby. "I’ve been busy taking care of the kid. You know how it is. Our family lineage has always been sparse and dwindling, and the child takes priority." He wiped milk from the baby’s mouth. "But don’t worry. Once he’s a month old, I’ll send him to the overseas. Just show up on holidays and pretend to be his mom. The title of Mrs. Ford will always be yours." I stared at the matching diamond ring on his finger and couldn’t help but laugh. "Jayden, this engagement is off." He scoffed, "You're really throwing a tantrum over something like this? Don’t be so childish." I hung up on him and called his father—Charles Ford—directly. "I heard you’re looking for a new wife? Why not consider me?" I ran a hand over my belly and smiled. "After all, I’ve got a naturally fertile body. I can give you as many sons as you want." So much for being the sole heir. I’ll make sure he has plenty of brothers to keep him company.

I wasn’t even pregnant, yet I ended up popping abortion pills like they were candy. It was all because in my past life, the moment my widowed sister-in-law got pregnant, every single side effect of her pregnancy became mine. She strutted around happily with her big belly, consuming spicy tamales, while I was rushed to the hospital for violent nausea and stomach pain; she showed off her flawless skin in crop tops every day, while my stomach broke out in hideous stretch marks. When I told my husband what was happening, he just shoved me away impatiently. “Enough with the jealousy! My brother’s dead, and she’s carrying his only child. Of course, I should look out for her. Do you really have to put on such an act?” After that, my sister-in-law went even further. She kept testing her limits during pregnancy and even ate a mango she was allergic to. And me? I went into anaphylactic shock, landed in the hospital, and nearly died. Doctors couldn’t explain it. They just brushed it off, saying I was overly jealous and it was all psychological. Later, my sister-in-law tried to brand herself as a “hot single mom”. She went live, belly and all, to show off her weight-loss workouts. She jumped around for three straight hours. And me? My uterus literally gave out, and I hemorrhaged to death. When I opened my eyes again, it was the exact day she first announced her pregnancy.