Novel & Cerita Romans Independence Ks

My grandfather died on a covert mission, and authorities approved a grand funeral in his honor. Concerned about my grief, my fiancé offered to handle the arrangements. On the day of the funeral, I arrived with my grandfather's ashes, only to find his portrait discarded on the ground, replaced by one of a dog. Furious, I tried to remove it, but my fiancé's adopted sister stopped me. "Hands off that portrait!" Suppressing my fury, I countered, "This is my grandfather's funeral. He was a decorated hero." "So what?" She shrugged, sneering, "Isaac said Luck deserves the grandest send-off. If you've got a problem, take it up with him. Adoring me, he'd cancel your engagement and ditch you in a heartbeat." I laughed incredulously, calling Isaac's family. "You people begged for this engagement. Since when does your adopted daughter get to call it off?"

Three days before my wedding, I find out that my fiancee, Ivy Carlton, has changed the wedding venue from my grandfather's home—that's located up in the south—to Jonah Jennings, her childhood friend's favorite castle in Staravia. When I'm about to confront her, I overhear her complaining to her friend, "Thank goodness Jon's a man with taste! Otherwise, everyone's going to make fun of me for the rest of my life!" Her friend asks, "Didn't you agree that you'd hold the wedding ceremony in Theo's grandpa's house? Aren't you worried that he might not marry you out of fury when he finds out?" Ivy chortles in response. "The Sterlings are on the verge of bankruptcy. Marrying me is Theo's only ticket out of poverty. He can't risk losing me at all. "I've already arranged for the wedding planner to call him and inform him about the change. He's most likely rushing to change his flight." Rage and resentment swell in my heart. I clench my fists tightly, but in the end, I turn on my heel and leave. Three days later, the wedding is held in the castle, just as Ivy has planned. I never changed my flight, nor did I show up at the castle. Instead, I choose to exchange rings with another woman in my grandpa's courtyard. Till now, Ivy still doesn't understand that I want to marry her because we've been dating for ten long years, not because I view her as a ticket out of poverty. But now that I've woken up from my dream woven of fantasies, it's time for me to make choice.

After ten years studying interior design overseas, I came back to my hometown to do work that mattered to the people who raised me. I offered the full package, from site survey to soft furnishings. The materials were chosen by hand. The price was fair to the bone. The town had just gone through a redevelopment. Everyone was getting new units. With the new family policy, every family wanted a third bedroom too. My business was good. Customers from the next county were driving in. Then a girl just back from a city college kicked open my studio with her phone on a livestream and her neighbors at her shoulder. "This is the dishonest one. Look at her. She has been ripping the village off." "In the city, an eighty-square-meter unit can be done for twenty thousand dollars. She is charging eighty." "That's a sixty-thousand-dollar margin. Sixty thousand. Right out of our pockets." The village fell in line behind her. They demanded the difference back. When I refused, they smashed my studio. They beat me into a coma. The pile-on online killed me. When I opened my eyes again, I knew exactly what I was going to do. I would refund every single one of them. And then I would tear out every single thing I had installed. Let's see what twenty thousand dollars actually buys you.

"You guys know what the situation is like in this industry this year. I need to cut our end-of-the-year bonus by half in order to overcome this difficult period." My boss, Peter Hurley, claims that things are difficult in the industry right now, yet his wrist still showcases the luxury watch that he's just bought. My 20,000-dollar bonus is reduced to 700 dollars. In addition, I also received a plaque that says "Award for Outstanding Contribution". "This plaque is worth a lot, Soren. It represents the acknowledgement this company has for you. Don't be so petty when it comes to money." As I stare at the plaque in my hand, I can't help but scoff furiously. "Fine. I won't be that petty when it comes to money. I hope you won't be that petty either when you're paying next month's rent." Peter is stunned momentarily. "What do you mean by that?" I toss the plaque into the trash can. "What I mean is, I'm the landlord of this building. From next month onward, the rent will be increased ten times. If you refuse to accept the new rent, you can pack up and scram."

When I was at my absolute poorest, I got sucked into some kind of survival game. The challenge was to survive 7 days on just 50 dollars, and the winner would walk away with a million dollars. As someone who might as well be certified as a professional at being broke, I knew exactly how to survive on next to nothing. That prize money had my name written all over it.

As per my father’s offer, I decided to leave both my son and husband behind and go back home where I would become his little girl again. That decision came after I heard my family’s true thoughts following my surgery. My husband thought, “It was just a minor issue! Why did she stay in the hospital for so long? She’s back and has yet to do any chores. Can’t she see that my suit needs ironing?” My son thought, “She spent so much money on that surgery, and now she’s even drinking my favorite yogurt! Why can’t she be a successful businesswoman like Sarah? All she does is stay in the house and act like a freeloader!” My mother-in-law thought, “She had to come back right when I’m making chicken soup, of all times! She can just drink the dishwater for all I care.” Feeling utterly disappointed, I turned around and closed the door. Then I called my father. “Yes, it’s just me. I’m not bringing anyone.”

To ensure fairness, my daughter said that she would draw lots to choose whose family to spend the New Year’s with every year. However, for the past nine years, she had spent the New Year’s with her in-laws. The latest draw was no different. On New Year’s Eve, my daughter gave me specific instructions. “Mom, we’re spending the New Year’s with my in-laws. We’ve made a reservation at the most expensive restaurant in town. Please help me save some money. You can just make some food at home for your dinner.” Hence, on New Year’s Eve, I ate alone while watching TV at home. When I stood up, I accidentally knocked over the raffle box. All the lots inside the box had my daughter’s handwriting. The words ‘in-laws’ were clearly written on every single one of them. For the past ten years, the lots had been fake. My daughter was willingly spending the New Year’s celebration with her in-laws, and she had never once thought of spending it with me, her biological mother, who had spent so much money on her. At the same time, I got a notification on my phone. Her mother-in-law posted something on social media. [My daughter-in-law is so lovely. She bought me so many gifts and chose to spend the New Year’s with us. It’s as if she’s our own daughter!] They smiled brightly in the video. On the table were gifts that she bought using my retirement fund. I did not sleep for the whole night. The next morning, I called the bank. “Please remove all the auto-debit accounts from my retirement account.” From then on, I would only spend my money on myself.

After I graduate from college, my uncle, Malcolm Caldwell, convinces my family to chip in and open a seafood restaurant. Dad and I wholeheartedly agree with his suggestion. Since then, we work as the restaurant's cooks. Five years later, our seafood restaurant becomes the top restaurant on the city's Must-Eat List. Our monthly profits hit more than 200 grand. On the day the earnings are to be split among us, Uncle Malcolm pockets 150 grand. Then, he passes 150 grand each to my cousins, Maxwell and Melanie Caldwell. The remaining sum, which is less than eight grand, is handed over to Dad and me. When faced with our questions, Uncle Malcolm adapts a matter-of-fact tone. "Max is in charge of dealing with the customers. He has suffered a lot just by having to deal with so many fussy customers every day. "Mel is the one in charge of the finances. She's worked so hard calculating every cent in the profits that we've earned." Then, Uncle Malcolm turns to look at us. "As for you two, all you do is hide in the kitchen all day. I bet you two have secretly taken many bites out of the customers' food all these years, right? "Since we're relatives and all, I shall not hold you accountable. How about this? If you two work hard, I'll make sure to reward you well if our profits double again next month." Dad is so furious that he's practically shaking. But I just hold his hand calmly and accept the money. "Fine. You can split up the shares however you want, Uncle Malcolm. I'm fine with it." Soon, they will realize that Dad and I are the actual profit generators, not them.

My husband Seth and I switched bodies on the night of our wedding anniversary. When I went to the office posing as him, his colleague Jenny whispered sultrily into my ear, "Why haven't you divorced your wife yet?" I looked at the counter on my wrist. It displayed ninety-nine points—that meant we only needed to gain one more point to switch back to our own bodies. I smiled. “Points have been reset to zero! Reset! Reset! Reset!”

I work in a highly confidential government department. One day, my supervisor asked me to personally deliver a set of classified documents to my brother's company. The moment I stepped into his office, a young intern blocked my path. "So you're the new assistant?" Her eyes swept over me from head to toe before landing on the file bag in my hands. She let out a mocking laugh. "Trying to earn Mr. Sinclair's favor on your first day already? Maybe take a look in the mirror first and see what you actually are." That was when I realized she had mistaken me for a romantic rival. The problem was, my brother had never told me he had a girlfriend. I had barely opened my mouth to explain when a burning slap landed across my face. "You b*tch. The only person qualified to be Mr. Sinclair's assistant is me! As for being his girlfriend, don't even dream about it!" She grabbed my hair and splashed scalding water across my face. "At your age, already seducing men? Who knows how many people you've slept with behind the scenes." Curled up on the floor, I still clung tightly to the document bag, shielding it with my body. That only seemed to enrage her further. She ripped the bag away from me and tore the documents into pieces right in front of the entire company. Then she shamelessly turned to my brother and smiled. "Mr. Sinclair, your new assistant sure is bold. She was trying to seduce you. "But don't worry. I already taught her a lesson for you."