Produce 101 Live Stream

I return to the country after attending an international anesthesia academic conference. That's when I see the news of my boyfriend and twin sister getting married. I'm anxious to verify its authenticity, but my sister drugs me and induces me. "A substitute's child will only be an unwelcome bastard even if it's born. I'm just helping it move on to a better life." Then, she slices me open with a scalpel. She gouges my womb out, causing me to die from significant blood loss. Meanwhile, my boyfriend believes her lies. He's sure he's not the father of my child. He ignores my messages begging him to save me. Instead, he spreads the word about me eloping with someone else. He even wipes all traces of me from his life. "I will never see her again, forever and ever." Five years later, surveillance footage of my sister cruelly murdering me surfaces.

On the six-year anniversary of my relationship with my girlfriend, Sheila Loom, I buy some groceries with the intention to surprise her with a home-cooked meal. After I'm done, I head over to Sheila's place right away. That's when the reel I was watching automatically skips to the next one. It's a live stream where people call in to discuss legal matters. A familiar feminine voice drifts to my ears at that moment. "My boyfriend shelled out 500 thousand dollars to put me through school. I've already paid ten thousand back to him. "At first, I wanted to clear the debt before breaking up with him, but I don't want to wait any longer. If he insists on taking me to court after the breakup, can I still pay the debt off slowly?" Almost immediately, comments flood into the comments section, chewing her out and calling her a heartless wench. But the voice replies calmly, "If I truly were heartless, I wouldn't have paid him back to begin with. I no longer have feelings for him. Are you saying that I should sacrifice the rest of my life just so I can pay 500 thousand dollars back to him?" My heart skips a beat at that moment. It's true that I've spent 500 thousand dollars putting Sheila through school over the years. But I feel that I'm overthinking it, seeing as she's never brought up the matter of wanting to pay me back before. After I call Sheila repeatedly for half an hour, she finally answers my latest phone call. At the same time, the woman's phone call that's connected to the live stream is cut off. "It's my birthday today, Sheila—" "Have you secretly come looking for me again? Didn't we agree that we'll only meet up after you've successfully gotten into college?" I don't get to finish the rest of my sentence. Suddenly, I catch a glimpse of the notebook sitting on the corner of Sheila's table. The first page shows "debt repayment ledger". Some of the details are as shown. "The SAT study materials I bought for him: 188 dollars." "The Uber fees I've paid for him: 35 dollars." "The cologne I've gifted him on his birthday: 380 dollars." "Total: ten thousand dollars now paid."

An employee blasted me on TikTok, accusing me of not approving her wedding leave. Ainsley Castillo ranted, "Our marriage rates are low; birth rates are low. It's all because of toxic capitalists like you! You won't even approve my wedding leave. In your eyes, am I just a workhorse? Not even a person? I believed your nonsense about building an all-women company and a women-friendly workplace. Now your true bloodsucking capitalist face is showing!" The video blew up instantly, and countless young people empathized with her hardcore. They piled on online, cursing me, even doxxing me and sending razor blades. As the boss, I went live and confronted her head-on. "Sorry, but I can't approve her wedding leave. She can quit and go through labor arbitration, or sue me, but her wedding leave is out of the question." The live stream exploded in views that day. Among the supporters for her, some claimed to be lawyers, offering to sue me pro bono. But Ainsley looked troubled. "I just want my wedding leave. I never thought about quitting, let alone suing her."

I went to exactly one party in my new, wealthy neighborhood. Then my neighbor Brenda sued me. In court, she held her bruised and battered daughter, Tiffany. She accused my son of rape. Mid-hearing, Tiffany tugged her collar down. Red marks circled her neck. "He tried to rip my pants off," she sobbed. "He tried to force himself on me. I fought back. So he beat me. He ruined my face!" Outside the courthouse, protesters held up signs, calling my son a piece of trash, a spoiled rich kid. Online, a photoshopped memorial of me went viral. The caption read: The unfit mother should die with her son. My company’s stock plummeted. But I just sat there. Stone-faced. I asked for my son, Cooper, to be brought in. The courtroom doors opened. Cooper walked in. Everyone froze.

The Lombardos' long-lost son turned out to be some "scam-busting" influencer. He stormed into the company with my fiancée, cut me off mid–quarterly report, pointed straight at me, and went live. "Drop a comment if you're watching. Blow this up. I'm exposing a fake heir who stole someone else's life!" His crew dragged me offstage, ripped my suit, and shoved me into a neon vest stamped with "FAKE." "A fake's always fake. Never real. I'm ripping off your mask. If you're smart, get on your knees, hand over the CEO seat, and get lost!" I glanced at his parents—faces drained—and gave him one warning. "You don't get to call me a fraud. For their sake, apologize now, and I'll let it go." The room buzzed. Everyone thought I'd snapped, waiting for the "fake heir" to crash and burn. They had no clue. I wasn't the fake. I was the one the whole family answered to.

Five years ago, policemen beat down the doors of our house and arrested my father for financial fraud. Just as I was about to despair, my friend’s father proposed that I marry his son—Mason. In my grief over daddy’s imprisonment, and unexpected happiness of marrying my childhood love, I was blinded. I vowed to myself that I would be the best wife I could be. But my husband would never love me the way he loved Jade—my best friend who died eight years ago. I pretended everything was fine and kept being a good wife for all these years. However, when I found Jade’s ring in Mason’s pocket and saw her face, alive and beautiful, appear in the live stream, the illusion—my game of house—was shattered.

"Saffron, I asked you a question. What happened to your dress?" Atlas asked again like he cared. Why was he calling her name like they were pals? How did he even know her name? This was the first time in seven years that they talked. Atlas isn't one to care about mere workers in the mansion, let alone commit their names to memory. So why her? Ignoring Atlas was not an option, so she parted her lips. "I–" Saffron was about to lie her way through when she caught sight of Caspian walking over. "Talk to me! Did Caspian do this to you?!" Atlas frowned and grabbed her jaw, forcing her to look his way. "How did–" so this was it? Atlas orchestrated last night's incident? He set her up! Now Caspian would think she was involved with Atlas! There's no way for her to prove her innocence anymore... "Ahh!" Saffron cried out loud and moved back with her rear hitting the wall. She slid down slowly until she was sitting on the floor, bawling her eyes out. "I'm just an insignificant Chef who is only here to work, please I beg you, let me live… waaah… I want to live…!" She continued crying as she lamented sorrowfully like she was already having her last minute of life. Caspian walked past without acknowledging any of them with a mere glance. After he ambled out of the corridor, Atlas moved away and glared condescendingly at Saffron, "Don't think too highly of yourself. You've served your purpose. You were a mere pawn." ... Saffron, a Chef who wanted nothing but a simple life, ended up becoming a pawn in a life and death's game for three brothers. However, time will tell if she's a pawn, or the Queen on the chess board.

I happened to come across the filming of a popular variety show, where a celebrity attempted to forcefully take over my greenhouse for a task. After I declined, people watching the live stream subjected me to continuous ridicule.In their relentless quest for higher ratings, the production team deliberately hyped up this matter like crazy.However, when my true identity was revealed, countless students from the Agricultural Academy rallied to defend these crops."Isn't she the expert in crop improvement for saline-alkali soil? My research thesis revolves around her remarkable achievements!""Anyone who dares to tamper with her crops will face dire consequences."

My husband threw me into the crocodile pit to help his childhood sweetheart, who was a KOL, gain popularity. To make the live stream more realistic, he personally tossed bait at me. “Have you not eaten? My grandma can run faster than you!” He watched as I bled from my abdomen, believing I was just pretending to be pitiful. When I asked for a divorce, he kicked me to the ground. “Since you love pretending to be pitiful to ask for a divorce, why didn’t you just let the crocodile kill you?” I handed him a medical report. “My child died because of you. Does this count as pretending to be pitiful?”

“She was supposed to be a substitute. Now, she’s the one person he can’t live without.” Solana shifted at age five. A cursed, ancient wolf stirred in her body and for that, she was punished. Fed wolfsbane. Beaten down. Now, she’s a dying girl in a borrowed dress, replacing her sister as the bride of the Demon Alpha. Alpha Roman Stone feels nothing. His five senses have been muted for forever. His curse makes sure of that. Every Alpha in his bloodline dies before thirty unless they produce an heir. But Roman can’t even get aroused. Until her. The weak omega with the haunted eyes. The one he was never supposed to want. The moment he touches her... he comes alive. But she’s dying. And his bloodline is running out of time. And if he falls for her, he might lose everything.