Shameless Thanksgiving Monica

A couple along with their 16 years old daughter who's deaf and 13 years old son moves into a small town called Santa Monica, everything was perfect not until their 16 year old daughter started acting differently.

Fairytales are all about fantasy and happy endings but this one doesn't have magic, fairy godmothers, evil stepmothers and stepsisters, evil queens, and poisoned apples. This is an untold fairytale about a sophisticated lady who cares so deeply about reputation and a shameless man who doesn't give a care. Will they be able to have their happy ending like most fairytales?

In the second month of my relationship with my best friend Sophie Vaughn's older brother, Elias Vaughn, Thanksgiving arrives. Sophie leans in, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Elias is bringing his girlfriend home for the holiday. Let's see what all the fuss is about." I take my time getting ready, heart fluttering with hope. Just maybe, I'll finally be formally introduced as his girlfriend. But the moment I step inside, I see him with another elegant, beautiful woman, smiling as he introduces her to his parents. "This is my girlfriend," he says. He then inadvertently looks over at me, stiffening for a moment, clearly caught off guard. But just as quickly, he recovers and turns to the woman beside him. "That woman over there is my sister's friend and a part-time student. You could say she's a maid in our household." A maid? As it turns out, I'm nothing more than someone for him to kiss and sleep with. I was never someone worthy of standing by his side publicly. I turn away and board the train back to Ashcroft University, choosing my future over another night in his bedroom.

My girlfriend called me frantically out of the blue, saying her mother's water had broken. She begged me to take them to the hospital. But I lazily hung up the phone and turned away, buying myself an ice cream bar instead. In my previous life, her mother had also gone into labor late in life. I had risked everything to rush her to the hospital, running twelve red lights, pushing my car to the limit until the fuel gauge nearly burst. Yet, despite all that, her mother had lost the baby. Worse still, she turned around and accused me of killing the baby. My girlfriend had hated me for it, blaming me for her mother's inability to have children again. That very night, she and her shameless relatives took over my family's house, forcing my parents into such anger and despair that they ended up in the hospital. My company went bankrupt, and as if that weren't enough, I was beaten so severely that both my legs were broken. In the end, I fell into a deep depression and took my own life. But when I opened my eyes again, I found myself reborn. This time, I uncovered the secret her mother had been hiding.

The Moretti Family's Thanksgiving party was in full swing downstairs—crystal clinks, fake laughs, classic mafia gloss. Meanwhile, I was curled up in a servant's room on the third floor. Jackson Moretti's wife. Legally, anyway. My hands were ice. I gripped the ultrasound report like it could anchor me. Three heartbeats. Strong, steady. It was supposed to be a surprise—his big Thanksgiving gift. To the outside world, Jackson was a polished Stanford grad, running a top-tier consulting firm in San Francisco. But behind the scenes? He ran the Moretti empire—cold, calculated, pulling strings in the West Coast's darkest corners. Three years of marriage and we barely spoke, but I still clung to the hope that maybe... maybe there was something real left. Then I heard him downstairs. "You really not letting your wife come down?" "Isabella?" He laughed. "She'd kill the vibe." Another voice chimed in. "Lina's back, right? Wild you married her twin. Which one do you actually like?" Jackson didn't miss a beat. "Isabella's just a stand-in. Quiet. Predictable. I could tell her to drop dead and she'd say 'okay.'" "So when are you ditching her?" "Dunno. She thinks she matters. I'm just playing her." I slapped a hand over my mouth to muffle the sob. A minute later, I was heading downstairs, numb. I brushed my fingers over my belly. "Sorry, babies," I whispered. Triplets. His. He thought I was blind. Weak. Stuck. What he didn't know? A quiet woman, once she snaps—she can burn it all down.

At my wedding, my bridesmaid shamelessly flaunted my wedding ring. Then she had the audacity to put on a pitiful act right in front of me. My husband dismissed it as a trivial matter and scolded me for overreacting. Without hesitation, I left him and filed for divorce. If these two shameless people were so fond of each other, they could have each other.

…”Damn it, Klein! Am I a fool to you? You were with a woman last night! You were drunk! Both of you went to the hotel together. And now you stand there and tell me “something” came up! Is it normal for you, a married man, to go to a hotel with other women?” “How did you know?” “Is that all you have to say?” I looked at him disbelievingly. How can someone say such a shameless thing with a straight face? “Well since you asked, I’m going to tell you. When I rang your phone last night, that bitch was the one who answered. She friggin answered it just to show me she was with you. And your photos with her in the hotel are all over the Internet! That’s how I found out about your affair!” I’m breathing heavily by the time I’m done talking. Klein is staring at me with an unreadable expression. He must be shocked to the core. “First of all, Jasmine is a friend of mine and I prefer you call her in a more respectful way. Second, I was drunk and she only sent me to the hotel. That’s all. I’ll handle the photos. It won’t affect yours or the Conglomerate’s reputation. ”… **********************************************. Klein only realized he had feelings for his wife, Eloise, when she finally got sick of playing the part of an understanding wife in their arranged marriage after his ex-girlfriend showed up. Now he wants to make things right with his wife but it’s probably too late because she already filed for a divorce and wants nothing to do with him anymore. Will he succeed in winning her back or will she find love in another man’s arms?

One night of rioting because of aphrodisiacs, Aretha successfully made love to Roger, the billionaire of the whole country AL. After that night, Aretha got her revenge. And Roger is day and night infatuated with Aretha's silhouette. Three years later, Aretha returned to her homeland from abroad. Roger immediately plotted to "kidnap" Aretha as his wife. ---------------------------- "Roger! Get out of my bed! Now!" "No! Three years ago, you were the one who set the trap to make me trapped, now you are not responsible for what you did. " Aretha's lips twitched a few times, she was helpless at the man in front of her. "Are you a man, Roger? How can you be so shameless?" Roger was not angry at Aretha's curse, he bent his head to kiss her soft lips. Then calmly replied. "Yes! I'm shameless, I'm just shameless to you alone."

It was about time because my dad got a new girlfriend and said he wanted us to have a meal together to introduce the new woman into our lives. On the day we met, my college roommate saw my chat background, which had a photo of me and my dad, along with a series of transfer records. She lost her mind. She enlisted the support of our other roommates, who rarely paid me any attention and began to attack me, insisting that I was a side chick who deserved to die. I did not expect that my roommate would soon become my stepmom. Before I could explain, she accused me of trying to seduce my dad behind her back, shouting, "Shameless side chick! Going behind my back to seduce my boyfriend! All those times you said you were out studying?! Who knows if you were just meeting up with him?" I was once physically assaulted, stripped of my dignity, and forced to the restaurant for a public confrontation wearing ragged clothes. Then my dad came running to where I was hardly breathing and barely moving on the floor, bruised to the extreme. “Sweetheart, who did this to you?!”

The night I got into Cambridge University, we were supposed to celebrate. Instead, I ended up in Gilbert’s bed—my older brother from next door, the man I had secretly loved for years. The mafia kingpin of the Veronatri. We used protection. It didn’t matter. I still got pregnant. In my past life, I relied on our child to marry him as I wished, but I was also forever barred from Cambridge University. Gilbert cornered me on our wedding night, his breath shallow, eyes wild— “You drugged me, didn’t you?” “Admit it. There’s no other reason I would’ve wanted you like that.” “You’re shameless, Julian. You will never touch me again in this lifetime!” From then on, he used every means possible to humiliate me. He even secretly transplanted our daughter’s heart into his first love’s daughter. While he and his first love celebrated the success of the surgery, I clutched my daughter’s ashes and died on the way to the cemetery. When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn to that night of utter absurdity. This time, I didn’t cry, I didn’t beg— I just walked away to Cambridge, and he went mad trying to find me.