Novel & Cerita Schnacky Family

Lenora Bennet is my first love. After we start dating, she's been nothing but caring toward me. But on the day of our wedding, my older brother, Gideon Sloane, calls her on the phone and tells her that he's sick and hospitalized. Lenora doesn't hesitate to ditch me at the altar. My mom wants me to be the bigger man and let Lenora take care of the ill Gideon. Meanwhile, my older sister, Hillary Sloane, chastises me for being selfish. She thinks I never let Gideon have his way. I don't understand at all. Gideon is the one who's stolen my life from me, but why is it that my family wants me to be gracious toward him? But after that, I've graciously decided that I don't want them in my life anymore. Surprisingly enough, they keep begging for my forgiveness.

My name is Elena, the principessa with the best marksmanship in the Capello family. In my previous life, I married my fiancé, Leon Newman. However, behind my back, he was involved with his adopted sister, Violetta, for three whole years. They even had a child together. To give her the antique pistol that represented the highest honor in marksmanship, he smashed my right wrist with a steel slide rail. From that day on, I could never hold a gun steadily again. I also lost the qualification to take over the family’s private shooting club and weapons collection business. After being reborn, I didn’t choose Leon again. Instead, I married his uncle, Damien Newman, the current don of the Newman family. I thought I had finally escaped the fate of my previous life. But on the eve of the family’s annual shooting competition, my right wrist was destroyed again. This time, it was Violetta herself who did it. After Damien learned about it, he was furious and personally sent Violetta to prison. I was deeply moved. I thought I had finally chosen the right man in this life. It wasn’t until five years later that I overheard the conversation between father and son in the study. “Dad, back then, you helped Aunt Violetta burn the surveillance footage, gave her a new identity, and married Mom, a useless cripple who can’t even hold a gun steady anymore, all so she could safely leave Sicilia. “Now that Aunt Violetta is back, when are you going to divorce Mom? I want Aunt Violetta to be my mom.” Damien stayed silent for a long time. He rubbed his wedding ring with his thumb before speaking in a low voice. “I won’t. For Violetta’s sake, I already wronged your mother once. In this life, I’ll make it up to her. “She will always be Mrs. Newman. And you are never allowed to say things like that in front of her again.” “But the one you love is clearly Aunt Violetta.” “That’s enough.” My hand froze in midair before it could knock on the door. Chills ran down my spine. In my previous life, Leon destroyed the hand I used to shoot. So, in this life, I thought the man who saved me would be the exception. However, it turned out that even this marriage was just a carefully constructed lie he created for another woman. My husband didn’t love me. And my son, Luca, liked Violetta more, too. If that’s the case, I don’t want you anymore, Damien, nor do I want you, my son.

I was severely allergic to shrimp. Even touching the broth could make it hard for me to breathe. They used to treat me like a fragile little princess no one could touch. So there was never seafood at home, and even relatives were reminded before each family gathering. Then my little sister was born, and everything changed. Shrimp became her favorite food. She kept asking Mom to make it for her. That was the first time Mom snapped at me. "Can't you just stay away from it? Do you really have to make your sister unhappy?" Dad only shut the kitchen door and handed me a mask. But on the day of Dad's promotion dinner, I accidentally ate shrimp hidden inside a puff pastry. My throat tightened. I clutched my neck and ran to Mom for help, my face turning purple. But Mom flung my hand away, her voice cold as ice. "Today is an important day for your father. What stunt are you trying to pull now? "Do you think everyone has to revolve around you? Go back to your room!" She shoved me into my bedroom, slammed the door, and locked it. I did not even have the strength to call for help. All I could hear was the sound of people outside clinking glasses and offering congratulations, while my fingernails scraped bloody marks into the door.

As the long-lost daughter of a wealthy family, I returned to my biological parents, only to watch their company collapse. Overwhelmed by massive debts, my dad jumped to his death. My brother was left crippled by vengeful creditors. My mother, unraveled, would one moment tear at my hair, cursing my existence, and the next, cling to me, sobbing and vowing to cherish me. To save them, I shredded my college acceptance letter and took every job I could find. When my brother's condition worsened, I auctioned off my virginity to fund his surgery. But when I arrived at the hospital with the money, I overheard their conversation. "Kathy works day and night to earn money. I don't think she is after our fortune," said my mom. "She dropped out of college and ruined her future for us. Maybe we should stop this." My brother, supposedly half-paralyzed, stood by the window in a crisp suit. He shrugged. "She chose to skip college and work like that. What's it got to do with us?" My "dead" father broke his silence. "We need to be careful. People like her are like leeches. Once they latch on, you can't shake them off. Let's keep watching." I listened quietly, tossing the pendant they had given me into the trash. I had repaid the debt of my birth, and now, we were done.

Of all the pups in the clan, my parents only loved my brother and sister, but not me. When the fire broke in the pack, they hurried into the flames to save their pups, but only took my brother and sister. Left behind, I suffered facial burns and my wolf grew extremely weak. From then on, I lost interest in fighting for their love. Whoever wanted them, could have them. After all, I was already dying. But I did not anticipate their regret. They held my thin frail body and begged: “Could you throw a little tantrum at us again… just once more?”

I struggle with all my might, but Dad restrains me, and Mom breaks my limbs. Then, my sister seals me into the concrete. "Concrete is only brought to life with an actual person sealed inside. It looks so much more defined! It's not like you'll die after being sealed in there for a few days. How can you be so insensible?" The pain of having my limbs broken and my oxygen being cut off leads to me dying within that block of concrete. My body rots and festers inside, but my soul sticks around to watch how my parents dote on their adoptive child. They seem to be happy without me. Finally, I lose all hope in them. But when the liquid from my body seeps out of the concrete, they all lose their minds.

Ever since my mom gave birth to her second child, everything in the household is tied to drawing lots. Everyone has to draw lots in order to decide whose favorite food will be served for each meal. We have to draw lots to see who among us gets a hug from our parents. Every time, I end up drawing the short end of the stick, so everyone automatically assumes that my younger sister, Anabelle Madden, gets the better lot. She easily reaps my parents' love without having to do anything at all. Whenever I feel like crying because of the injustice, Mom will scold me instantly. "I bought the lottery box because I was worried that you might feel upset about this. I'm doing this just to be fair to both of you. "If you want something, you have to be the one deciding who gets what. Your father and I won't interfere with your decision at all. Since you can't draw the better lot, that just means you have bad luck." Hence, I keep practicing my lot-drawing skills every day, hoping that I can eventually draw the better lot in order to obtain my parents' love. But for ten years, I never get to draw the better lot. Not even once. On my birthday, Anabelle wants to go to the amusement park, so Mom tells us to draw lots once again. I secretly glue two short lots together before giving it to Mom in an attempt to get her to stay with me. Instead, she slaps me and berates me for being a disobedient child who cheats in lot-drawing. Then, she leaves the house with Anabelle. When I fall to the floor, I feel the short sticks piercing through my neck.

My mother was the best portrait artist in the police station. She had a strong sense of justice and brooked no evil. However, all I got was a sharp retort when I called her to save me. "You know it's your sister's coming-of-age celebration today, and you're cursing her? Kidnapped, are you? Fine, the kidnappers can kill you for all I care." She assumed it was a prank call. So, she refused to go to the police station and do her job. I wasn't saved in time and was tortured to death. When the DNA report came out, she came to the scene all wobbly. She drew a portrait of me with my bones as reference, her hand trembling all the way. "Jessica? It can't be her. This is a mistake!" She tried again and again. Yet, it didn't matter how many times she redid it as the portrait showed my face. My mother, who had hated me my whole life, teared up.

Five years ago, my brother's fiancée died because of me. Five years later, I'm burned to a crisp and laid out on his autopsy table.

In my parents' hearts, there was always a "perfect son" who died too soon. I was just his flawed substitute, while my younger brother was their new hope. They pretended to be poor for 20 years, secretly funneling all their resources to him. While I was in the final stages of stomach cancer, writhing in pain, they were spending millions of dollars to build him a state-of-the-art study room. When the doctor told me to notify my family about hospital bills, I felt helpless, thinking they were just ordinary, broke workers. When my mom finally showed up at the hospital, she grabbed my hand, not out of concern. "Neville is under so much stress with his college entrance exams. Can you not die right now? He can't take it." My dad stood by, wearing a stern expression. "David was way more sensible than you."