Sally Face Plot

Someone had sprinkled some corrosive acid powder all over my wedding dress, the one worth over a hundred million. The moment I put it on, my flesh began to burn and dissolve. Blood and yellowish fluid pooled around me as a result. When I tried to call for an ambulance, someone’s mother held me down. She smiled cruelly and said, “You dare steal my daughter’s wedding dress? Go to hell!” However, my husband had ordered the dress from a top designer. It was one of a kind! I struggled with all my strength and shouted at her, “Do you know who I am? How dare you touch me?!” Her daughter, Yelena Stone, then grabbed a knife and stabbed me hard in my pregnant belly. She sneered and said, “You stole my man, but you have the audacity to yell at me? Fine. I’ll just spend a little more to end your worthless life.” My worthless life? I laughed. My hands were stained with blood as I called my brother, Hunter Sinclair, an elite in Jinvell’s social circles. “Hunter! Someone’s trying to kill me! And tell Jacob to get here now!”

I went abroad for three years to build a lab and save my husband's company from collapse. After endless struggles, I finally cracked the technical problems and developed the core technology. When I returned home with that breakthrough, I saw the airport video board plastered with the same impossible headline—my husband was getting married. I felt a hot, furious ache and took a taxi straight to the venue. … A woman who had cared for our household for years blocked me at the gate and sneered. "Who do you think you are, showing up at the Stone family's wedding? Get out of here, or I'll get security to throw you out." For a moment, I stood rooted, but then the bride appeared, walking out of the villa in a wedding gown. It was the woman Adrian Stone had once told me was dead—his first love, Evelyn Sutton. She wore my wedding ring on her finger and looked at me with pure contempt. "You want to make a scene at my wedding?" she said. "If you do, you're really asking for trouble. My husband, Adrian, won't hesitate to take care of you." I folded my arms and let out a cold laugh. "Adrian's getting married? Funny, I don't recall getting an invitation."

My sister-in-law keeps calling me a deadbeat, swearing I just drift around in slides with an iced drink glued to my hand. She's always stirring things up at home, running her mouth about me to my wife day after day. What she doesn't get is that this is just how landlords in Galanor roll.

When I'm trying to save a female patient's life, I use a pair of scissors to cut open her bra. But my fiancee, Scarlett Baxter, uploads a video of me pressing on the patient's chest to the Internet. "I know you're saving the patient's life, but isn't protecting the patient's privacy important as well? Besides, you keep touching her chest! This makes me feel very uncomfortable!" This incident goes viral on the Internet. The hospital I work at chooses to de-escalate this matter by demoting me and deducting my annual bonus. On top of that, I also receive a huge penalty for my actions. I did everything I could to save that patient's life, and yet everyone decided to paint me as a molester. Fine. I might as well not do anything, then. I'm not going to save anyone now. This time, the entire hospital falls into chaos.

In my previous life, I inherited the family's steakhouse, while my sister asked our dad to get her a job that paid 75 hundred a month. To her shock and surprise, the heir of a rich family and I fell in love at first sight when he came over for a meal. I became his wife, and everyone envied me for marrying the richest man in Imperia. My sister lost both her legs during a work accident. Jealous of my great life, she set me up and killed me with her own hands. We were both reborn at the same time, back to the moment where we would make the decision that would change our lives forever. Right before our father, she told him she wanted to inherit Shaw's Steakhouse. I heard everything, and in a corner where no one could see me, a sneer curled my lips. Poor thing. She had no idea at all. Her nightmare would begin the moment she met Jonathan Landton.

At the factory, my arm is pulled into a machine. After the surgery, the factory supervisor tells me it's my fault. Because of my arm, the machine has to be shut down for repairs, and every day of downtime will cost them millions. "Someone has to take responsibility for this, Zachary," the supervisor tells me. "It wouldn't make sense to demand millions from you, so just compensate us with 300,000—that's all." Under their threats—and my family's desperate begging—I sign the IOU for 300,000. With one arm gone, I can no longer find a job. All I can do is collect trash to repay the debt. While picking up bottles outside a restaurant one day, I hear the factory supervisor laughing and bragging inside. "Actually, that one-armed guy didn't violate any rules. In fact, the HQ gave three million dollars in compensation. My house and car? All bought with that money," he said. "I mean, who'd ever find out? With that debt hanging over him, he's probably already run off somewhere." Shaken by the news, I stagger onto the street. A truck roars out of nowhere, slamming into me and throwing me 16 feet across the road. When I open my eyes again, I had returned to the day I lost my arm.

On the day we're supposed to register our marriage, my girlfriend Jenny Sutton has me removed from the city hall. She walks in with her childhood sweetheart, Ronald Walsh. She looks at me without a flicker of guilt and says, "Ronald's kid needs his legal status sorted out. Once we divorce, I'll marry you." Everyone assumes I'll wait. I'm the devoted fool who's already waited seven years, so one more month seems trivial. That night, I go along with my family's plan and leave the country for a marriage of convenience. I cut myself cleanly out of Jenny's life. Three years later, I return to the country with my wife, Ellie Olsen, who's a CEO, to pay respects at her family's graves. A last-minute issue pulls her away, and she asks the local branch to send someone to pick me up. I didn't expect Jenny, not after three years. "You have dragged this out long enough. Come back. Ronald's kid will be starting kindergarten soon. You can handle the school runs."

My boyfriend, Victor Pearson, was ranked number one in the world in horror games. Meanwhile, I was secretly working part-time as a monster NPC inside one of those dungeons. Every dungeon he cleared was SSS rank, whereas the one I worked in was the beginner level. We were never supposed to run into each other… until he nearly wiped out all the monsters in an SSS dungeon. The system pulled me in at the last second as emergency backup. When I tried to scare players with my awful acting, the live chat tore me apart. [Hahaha, since when did the monsters in this dungeon get so cowardly? She’s supposed to scare us, but we actually scared her instead.] [This is next-level dumb. Getting lost in a dungeon is embarrassing. Is this monster here for comic relief?] [Poor thing. She'd better hide. Anyone else might let her go, but if she runs into Big V, she's dead before she knows it.] [Come on. Big V only hunts the nastiest bosses. He wouldn’t even bother with trash like that. She would probably scare herself to death first.] I did everything I could to avoid Victor, to keep him from realizing I was the monster working there. But somehow, I stumbled right into him anyway. The chat exploded, waiting for my instant death. After all, he was a legend on the leaderboards, a god among players. But instead of killing me, he bent down and gently pinched my cheek. "Hey, babe. How many players do you wanna take out? I'll help you." The people in the chat lost their minds. [What the hell?!]

My boyfriend, Dallas Clarke, had a pick-me girl constantly hanging around him named Olivia Phillips. She knew perfectly well that I had diabetes and could not eat high-sugar foods. Yet, during our hiking trip, she still managed to trick me into eating a high-sugar energy bar, which caused my blood sugar to spike. When I pulled out my insulin pen to inject myself, I discovered with horror that my medication had been replaced with saline solution. Seeing me collapsed on the ground, dry heaving uncontrollably, Olivia smirked in disdain. "You are always so dramatic. It's just sugar, you don't need to act like you're dying. That's why I told Dallas to switch your meds, because you needed to toughen up and build some stamina." I looked toward Dallas, my breathing already becoming labored. "Dallas, give me my medication. If I don't inject insulin soon, I'm going to die..." Dallas frowned slightly. "Don't you think you're being a little overdramatic? I've never heard of anyone dying from a bit of sugar. Olivia's right... You're such an attention seeker. We barely get together as a group, and here you are causing a scene." My heart sank, and I called Dad immediately. "Dad, I'm getting bullied, and I might die! Are you going to do something about it or not?"

On the day the gauze was removed from my eyes, I joked that I was blind. "Don't be afraid if you can't see. I'll take care of you my entire life." My husband and best friend took care of me while I was in the hospital. They sincerely made that promise to me. However, when we got home, all three of us were on the same bed. My best friend rode on top of my husband breathlessly. They were caught up in their intimacy as they thought I could not see. My best friend was worried I would suspect something and spoke up to eliminate any suspicion. "Uhh… Summer, I'm just giving your husband a massage." I was so disgusted that I wanted to throw up, but I held myself back. Once they were done, I was about to find an excuse to leave the room when my five-year-old suddenly ran in. "I miss you so much, Mom!" Hearing that warmed my heart, and I opened my arms to hug him, but he ran past me and lay down next to my best friend instead. The 'happy family of three' were all smiles and threw me looks of disgust. I could no longer tolerate this. When I called my lawyer, I told him to bring me the divorce papers. If they wanted to become a family so badly, I would make their wish come true. I just did not know if my best friend could afford to earn a decent enough income to take care of my useless husband and son.