Phone Ringing Tone

When Peter, my father-in-law, suffered a heart attack and needed an urgent transplant, the hospital miraculously had a compatible heart. Helen, my mother-in-law and I were overjoyed. We thought it was a blessing from above. However, just as we were getting ready for surgery, Nate, my husband, disappeared with the compatible heart. When we finally reached him by phone, it was Camile, his first love. “Nate is busy prepping for my dad’s heart surgery. Stop distracting him!” Helen was trembling with fury. On her way to confront Nate, she got into a car accident and ended up in a critical condition. I begged Nate to come back and operate on her, but he walked into another operating room. In the end, my in-laws died. Their bodies were donated for organ transplant. It was not until later that I found out that their organs had been donated to Camile’s family.

My name is Elena, and I died at twenty-two. My parents forced me to take my foster sister’s place and traded me for a territorial alliance. My mate was the most volatile heir of the wolf packs. Beaten bloody and fading fast, I made my eighth call for help. At my adopted sister Seraphina’s birthday party, she played the recording of my final, groveling plea—and laughed. My parents listened to those desperate calls with nothing but irritation, dismissing each one as theatrics, an inconvenience unworthy of their time. My brother snarled over the phone, “Then just die already!” So I did. In the end, it was my three-year-old daughter who made the final call—using her smartwatch to video my mother, live-streaming the freezer where my severed head lay. Now, my spirit watches from above as they all, one by one, begin to unravel.

I am a billionaire titan who controls the world’s medical supply chains. With one phone call, I can bring an entire city’s healthcare to its knees. In the boardroom, I am the queen they all fear. But eight years ago, I was nothing. They said a girl like me was lucky to have even breathed the same air as a Harrington. I was the "placeholder" wife of Ryan Harrington, a man whose family name carries the weight of a dynasty. To the Harringtons, I was a nameless girl from the gutter, a woman Ryan married and discarded like a piece of trash. His mistress threw me out into the winter night, pregnant and penniless, expecting me to wither away and die. But you can’t kill a woman who has nothing left to lose. I used to pray for his love. Now, I’m coming for his empire.

After getting stood up by her fiancé who was busy marrying her best friend, Shirley Anderson got into a car accident and woke up in the hospital beside her mother. While browsing through her mother's phone, she stumbled on a post on her page that showed her fiancé getting married to her best friend. After much digging, Shirley discovers she was adopted and that her best friend is actually her parents' biological daughter. She storms out of the hospital and runs into a mysterious man who turns out to be the driver of her savior, the man who rushed her to the hospital after the accidents. When faced with a chance to get revenge on everyone who has wronged her, Shirley has a big decision to make? Is she ready to be married to the mafia boss, Jackson Storm even if it's a temporary agreement?

My best friend, Adeline Miller, and I marry into the Caldwell family together. Coincidentally, we become pregnant at the same time. I'm married to Rowan Caldwell, the older brother who's a famous psychiatrist. As for Adeline, she's married to Elliot Caldwell, the younger brother who's an extremely skilled doctor. Rowan gives me a ride to the hospital, hoping to accompany me to my prenatal check-up due to the discomfort I've been feeling throughout my pregnancy. But on the way there, he abandons me by the road and leaves me there because of a phone call from his first love, Veronica Whitmore. As I sob, I beg him, "Please, Rowan, I'm begging you! It's raining heavily right now! Can you please drive me to the hospital first?" Rowan shakes my hand off impatiently. "Veronica has slit her wrist! This means she might die! Can you be more understanding toward her situation, Emilia? I'm going to tend to her injury right now! You can go to the hospital on your own!" It's raining cats and dogs out in the world. Yet, Rowan doesn't hesitate to ditch me on the highway. Left without a choice, I can only call Adeline and ask her to drive over to pick me up. Unexpectedly, on the way to the hospital, we see a truck barreling toward us. While I'm unconscious, I hear Adeline crying while calling Elliot on the phone, only to get reprimanded by him. "Stop messing around, Adeline! Must you come up with all sorts of lies whenever I'm spending time with Veronica?" It's thanks to a passerby's help that an ambulance is called to the crash site. That's how we get to survive afterward. Alas, we both end up losing our babies. Upon regaining our consciousness, we just smile bitterly at each other. "Are you getting a divorce?" "Yeah."

I stood between both of them masking my son from his gorgeous daddy but my stubborn son cocked his head and gave his dad a very beautiful sunburnt smile. I couldn't help but chuckle my baby is too cute. "Mommy, is this Daddy?" Oh my God! I looked behind us at Jale who was only a few steps away from us. I bet he clearly heard what my son had just asked me. The was he was looking at me with curiousty, I knew he wanted an answer to that question too. Who am I even kidding from his viking gold hair, brown chocolate eyes, his fair skin, to proud attitude. Everything he was was the same thing my boy was. Chase was a true young version of his daddy but I would never let him know that. I crouched down in front of my angel and kissed his forehead before answering his question. My eyes shot up at Jale again who pretended like he was looking at something on his phone yet his phone's screen was blank then. After making sure he had his attention to us, I cupped my baby's cheeks and made him look into my eyes. "No honey, this man is not your daddy but uncle. He is uncle Jale." I could see Jale's face fall from the sides of my face. Suck a jerk! What did he expect that I was going to say Chase is his son. That is something I would never do in my life. I would never let Jale into my son's life. I will never let him know he is my baby's daddy because he doesn't deserve my little boy at all. He doesn't deserve us after all the horrible things he did to me five years ago.

"He's gone, Elizabeth," her captain Charles Johnston tells her. Elizabeth blinks back her tears. Her face full of shock and disbelief. Her frozen stare interrupted by his words. "He left his badge." "There's no way," she thought. He wouldn't leave her like this. No warning, no phone call, no letter. She was more to him than that or at least so she thought. That conversation has plagued her for 3 years. For 3 long years, Detective Elizabeth Ryan tried to shut out him, to finally be able to move on. But just as she does, he abruptly returns seeking more than what either of them anticipated. Will Elizabeth be able to forgive him, or will the past be too much to swallow? What happens when life throws her too many twists to handle?

After I turn five years of age and have my very own phone, I start receiving strange messages every single day. For some reason, the sender keeps referring to me as their mom. At 3:00 am, they send me another message. "Mom, I saw you in my dreams again. The rain is seeping into the attic. My stepmom told me to use a rag to soak up all the water, but the rag is too small. Even though I tried to wipe it up all night, it still wouldn't dry. Mom, I'm so cold and hungry. I miss you so much…" I tilt my head, looking at the rain pouring outside the window. I then earnestly reply, "Don't be scared, sweetheart. Where are you right now? I will bring you something yummy!"

To fund my daughter's medical treatment, I consider reconnecting with my estranged family until an expected phone call changes everything. "Sir, your diamond necklace has arrived. You may come tomorrow to pick it up." After confirming the order is placed using my and my wife's contract information, my hope sparks. Perhaps the medical bills will finally be covered. When I arrive at the luxury boutique to claim the necklace, the sales clerk frowns, eyeing me from head to toe. "You're saying… you bought this necklace?" I nod, irritated by the condescension. "What happened to the service? Did all the luxury jewelers forget how to treat customers while I was away?" I said inwardly. The clerk flashes me a polite smile and turns to "retrieve" the item, but in reality, he radios the security. "Security, we have a suspected thief here."

I stumbled across an encrypted folder on my husband's phone, filled with photos of a little girl I'd never seen before. From newborn to first steps, sorted by month—two full years' worth. But the child in those photos wasn't our daughter. When I confronted him, he said she was a girl named Rosie from the children's home I sponsored. The director sent growth updates, and he'd been saving them for me. I never imagined that my warm, thoughtful husband would use my charity to spin a lie. Because every single photo was geotagged to the apartment complex next to his office. And the children's home was on the other side of the city. I didn't call him out right then. Because I wanted to know whose child she really was.