Saddest 4 Word Story

Susan Miller, my father's caretaker, often complains that the supplements keep running out. The wild kingroots that are worth 500 thousand dollars are completely used up even though Susan has only made soup with them twice in a row. As I filter through the medicinal residue with a frown on my face, Susan sinks down to her knees and begins slapping herself. "They must have melted in the soup because of my lack of attention! Please dock my pay, Ms. Lawson, but please don't fire me!" But that night, I come across a post uploaded by Susan's son, Roman Cox, on Instagram. "Hi everyone! Today, I'm challenging myself to eat two wild kingroots in one go!" When I see Roman picking up a familiar-lookng giftbox, I feel my temper flaring instantly. Then, I order a packet of potent aphrodisiacs meant for animals on the spot. It turns out that Roman intends to chug down my prized Romanee-Conti in the next episode of his stream. Well then, I'll let him have his feel of drinking something else!

Starla Xander was orphaned at a young age. With both her parents gone, it was her uncle, Xavier Lloyd, who rescued her from that hopeless home. For over a decade, he had cherished her, shielding her from the world, treating her like the most precious gem in his life. And so, inevitably, she fell in love with him. She truly believed he loved her too. She thought that one day, they would get married and build a future together. But when Starla finally confessed her feelings, Xavier reacted as if she had crossed an unforgivable line. “Starla, I’m your uncle. Get rid of those disgusting thoughts!” And that wasn’t even the cruelest part. He chose the most brutal way to reject her. On the twelfth anniversary of the day they met, he stood before her with a beautiful woman by his side. He met Starla’s eyes and said, “Meet her. She’s your future aunt-in-law.” As she watched them standing together—so effortlessly close—something inside her shattered. She let out a soft, bitter laugh. “I understand now.” Without another word, she turned away, pulled out her phone, and called her research mentor. “Professor Zimmer, I’ve made my decision. I agree to the cryogenic preservation procedure.”

After I came back to life, the first thing I did was hand that five-carat diamond ring—yes, the one my husband gave me—to his mother. The very woman who spent years picking me apart like it was her favorite pastime. In my last life, that ring was a custom New Year's gift. He paid a ridiculous amount for it. I actually thought it meant something. One afternoon, I was out shopping when I walked right into a bridal party taking pictures. The bride glanced at my hand, saw the ring, and her entire expression changed. She stormed over and slapped me, accusing me of being a shameless mistress trying to steal her man. I stood there, completely stunned. She was wearing the exact same ring. Before I could explain, her friends grabbed me. They dragged me aside, tore my clothes, hit me, and stomped on my hand until I couldn't move my fingers. They carved the word "mistress" into my face and paraded me through the street like some kind of public disgrace. I died there on the pavement. When my husband finally appeared, he didn't fight for me. He just signed off on a settlement, as if my life were nothing more than a piece of paperwork. Widowed that morning, married to the bride by nightfall. His mother instantly welcomed the new woman, all because she was pregnant. And then I opened my eyes again… back on the very day he first placed that diamond ring in my hand.

Married in secret for five years, Yvonne Singer always thought I was just a washed-up nobody from a fallen family. What she didn't know was that I was the sole successor to Guzman Group, the world's largest venture capital firm. She tricked me into attending a cocktail party for the sake of her male best friend, Francis Yorke, and forced me to toast my sworn rival. Furious, I shattered the wineglass in my hand and snapped, "Yvonne, don't push me! Believe it or not, with a single word from me, your company can disappear from the stock market by tomorrow!" Panic flickered in her eyes. The next second, she threw herself into my arms. "Honey, I just needed your help. I didn't mean to hurt you." She then personally fed me a hangover pill and gently escorted me to a private room. When I woke up, I was hanging upside down from a drop tower. Francis slammed the switch. I was sent flying dozens of feet into the air, then plummeting straight down into the water. As my consciousness began to waver, I forced myself to make an emergency call. "Mr. Chance, contact global media outlets. Before nightfall, I want headlines showing them begging on the streets!"

I was having lunch in the cafeteria when my pregnant coworker, Cindy Jenkins, reached across with her fork and speared the fried chicken drumstick right off my plate. She did not say a word until she had finished every last bite, then casually remarked, "I'm six months pregnant now, which is when I need the most nutrition. Plus, I'm carrying a boy, the only grandson in my husband's family. Do you all understand how important this baby is?" I stared at her, dumbfounded. "What's that got to do with me? It's not like I'm the father." She completely ignored me and said, "I'm just letting you all know. From now on, you're taking turns giving me your chicken drumsticks." The other coworkers at the table quickly looked down and focused on their food, nobody daring to say anything. Only me, the one person who never backed down, kept staring straight at her. Cindy slammed her fork onto her tray. "What are you looking at? Your drumsticks are mine from now on, got it?"

"The Rossi family doesn't need a Don. We just need a Donna." As the only heiress of the Rossi family, this was the law that I had set when I received the Browning pistol—a pistol that resembles the ultimate authority in the Rossi family—from my Papa when he was on his deathbed. But three years ago, the police relentlessly investigated the money laundering business that my fiance, Lorenzo Moretti, was in charge of. If that business were to get exposed, the Rossi family's hundred-year-old legacy would be ruined. In order to protect my family's legacy and to allow Lorenzo to continue legalizing my family's businesses, I decided to become the scapegoat for all the crimes. On the rainy night of my arrest, I personally handed the pistol over to Lorenzo. "Protect my family for me before my return." This gave Lorenzo legitimate authority to run my family. He used the pistol to purge my subordinates and take over the family business. He even broke my law by announcing to the public that he'd become the next Don soon. An invitation with golden borders is soon leaked from the family's inner circle. Lorenzo's and another woman's names are printed on the cover. During a visit, my private lawyer says mockingly, "If you don't get out of prison now, the Rossi family might take on another man's last name for real." I just sneer in response. After that, I get bailed out of jail in advance and return home to celebrate Lorenzo's "funeral". But no matter how many times I scan my iris at the biometric scanner in the estate, the result always comes out wrong. A young woman, who's toying with the pistol, opens the door at that moment. The contempt and disdain in her eyes are plain to see. "Where the hell did a crazy woman like you come from? You came to the wrong place. This is my private turf, you know."

I am having a heart attack when Scott Lakin locks me inside the car. It's because my pain is frightening his childhood sweetheart. In response to my desperate pleas for help, he merely utters coldly, "I'll let you out when you apologize." I go into shock and have to be rushed to the hospital. I call Scott a dozen times, but he just blocks me. Finally, after I get discharged, I see him carefully feeding his childhood sweetheart chicken soup. "Have some food, darling. What if the baby in your belly is hungry?" After that, I return to my hometown without saying a word and stay there for half a month. After blocking me everywhere except the music streaming platform, Scott suddenly starts frantically searching for me. "Jennie, why didn't you add me back on Facebook this time?"

On the day I receive my Distinguished Service Medal, I also receive word that my grandma has passed away. My superior grants me special leave to return to my hometown to mourn her death, so I rush to my ancestral home at once. But when I reach the ancestral graveyard behind the hill, I witness something that makes my blood boil. The graves of my deceased family members have been razed to the ground. Even my parents' graves have been brutally dug up. Their urns are now placed under flower pots filled with blooming red roses. Grandma's coffin has been pried open as well.Her body now lies strewn on the ground and has started to rot. I also see Lucy Stewart, my autistic younger sister. Melissa Abbott, my wife's assistant, orders Lucy around like a maid, forcing her to move heavy construction materials around. Enraged, I grab Melissa by the throat and throw her to the ground. "How dare you destroy my family's ancestral cemetery and make my sister do hard labor! Do you want to end up buried here too?" Melissa coughs up blood before crawling back onto her feet, her expression vicious and scornful. "I'm simply carrying out Ms. Fuller's instructions. She says that your ancestral cemetery is located in a good spot. It's also the perfect size to be turned into a private horse ranch and a garden for her future husband. "Ms. Fuller calls the shots here in Joverton City. Who the hell do you think you are, huh?" Resisting the urge to put an end to her life, I call up Eva Fuller, my wife. "I heard you call the shots here in Joverton City. Well, I shall put that to the test today!"

After returning home from a flight, I realize that my bottle of hair conditioner has run out in the bathroom. The thing is, my husband, Carlos Zappa, doesn't use hair conditioner at all. Seeing Carlos through the frosted glass, I decide to probe him for answers. "Did any guests stay over lately? Or have you started doing hair care?" Carlos flips through the documents, which are stamped with the Zappa family crest, impatiently at my questions. "Maybe a maid accidentally toppled the bottle over when she was cleaning the bathroom. Also, why are you annoying me with such minuscule matters?" When I put on the bathrobe, I feel a ticklish sensation coming from the collar. As soon as I look down, I notice a strand of dried yellow hair being entangled in the collar. The moment the steam dissipates, I see two pairs of intertwining handprints on the bathroom's glass door. I never thought that my home would grow this popular during my one-week trip away from home. I've been married to Carlos for three years, and yet this is my first time finding out that he's actually this wild in bed. So, I secretly text my father, the Don of the Carozza family. "Dad, Carlos has cheated on me. Does the bet we made three years ago still count?"

Three years ago, Samantha Jade and her parents were trapped in a raging fire. She watched with her own eyes as the flames devoured her mother and father. At the critical moment, it was Connor Parker who charged in and saved her. She fell hopelessly in love with him. For the following three years, she drowned in the tenderness he wove so carefully around her. But later, Samantha discovered the truth: that fire three years ago—Connor had set it. He had approached her on purpose, loved her on purpose, all to avenge his first love. Every bit of love, every gentle word, every beautiful moment between them—none of it was real. It had all been a lie. Since he hated her that much, Samantha decided to play along. Amid Connor's revenge, she faked her death. But when he saw the charred body—believing it was hers—Connor lost his mind.