Slander Antonym

Because of Claire's incitement and slander, Jackson accused Grace of having an affair with Shane. He even disowned the child in Grace's womb, as he felt that he had never had sleep with his wife after they got married. When Grace's child was born, Jackson took a DNA test and the results showed that the child did not match his DNA, meaning that Grace's child was not Jackson's. Grace couldn't believe it, because she had only done it once with Jackson when he came home drunk. However, repeated DNA tests showed that the child was not Jackson's. Grace took a DNA test on herself, and the results didn't match either. It turned out that the baby was not her baby. Then, where did Grace's real baby go? Why did her baby suddenly become not her baby? Jackson chose to divorce because he felt betrayed. Grace agreed to divorce, because she was sick of living with the cold and sharp-mouthed Jackson. Until the truth was revealed, it turned out that Grace had never been wrong. However, Grace was already angry. She signs the divorce papers and together with Shane they search for Grace's real baby, which has been swapped and thrown away by someone else. Until a fact about the baby makes Grace furious and wants to avenge the death of her baby.

Over the Fourth of July weekend, I took my boyfriend's sister to his flashy new influencer hub. Fresh off brain surgery, Benedetta Griffin needed a break from her recovery, and I hoped the trip would lift her spirits. In the hub, a streamer was hawking a face cream like a carnival barker. "Listen, fam! The boss lady is slashing prices. Get this $3,800 cream for just $398 today!" Benedetta tugged my sleeve. "That cream is bad news." She'd interned at the FDA last summer and could spot a scam from a mile away. "It's packed with steroids. Long-term use will ruin your skin." Driven by her sense of justice, she marched up to the streamer. "You can't sell this unlicensed junk. The steroids exceed legal limits. Pull it from the shelves." Morgan Lamb froze, but then her fake smile twisted into a scowl. "Who the hell are you to trash my product?" Benedetta didn't back down. "You're scamming people, and you know it." Morgan planted her hands on her hips. "I'm the boss lady here. How dare you slander my brand? Nobody leaves until you cough up $500,000 for damages." "Boss lady?" My stomach churned. My boyfriend's sudden venture into the streaming industry now made sense. He was sinking money into this hub to bankroll his lover. I fumbled for my phone to call him, but Morgan was faster. "Babe, get to the hub. Two haters crashed the party, trying to tank our business."

After my rebirth, the very first thing I did was ride from one blood donation van to another, giving blood until I nearly collapsed. Why? Because in my previous life, my fiancé's newly hired intern, Shirley Lynch, had bound herself to a blood-exchange system. Every milliliter she donated was siphoned directly from my own veins. In just a month, she transformed from an ordinary college girl into the nation's beloved Blood Angel, showered with fame and fortune, while I, suffering from severe anemia, was fired from the hospital for being unable to work. When I exposed her scheme to my fiancé, he looked at me with disgust and broke off our engagement. "You're selfish and cowardly," he sneered. "You refuse to donate your rare blood type, and now you slander Shirley? You call yourself a doctor, yet you believe in such ridiculous nonsense!" From then on, every time Shirley donated blood, I would suffer heart palpitations, dizziness, and sometimes collapse outright. I begged the doctors in my department for help, but my fiancé blocked every attempt, accusing me of jealousy and wasting medical resources. In the end, to steal my promotion ahead of schedule, Shirley donated a full 1000 milliliters of blood live on television. As her blood drained, so did mine. I went into shock and died. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day Shirley first claimed she carried my rare blood type.

I had always been naturally celibate. Yet somehow, I still ended up chemically castrating myself. It was all because, in my previous life, my wife's precious idealized lover, a libidinous playboy, went viral as a pickup artist and dumped every side effect of his indulgent lifestyle onto me. He spent nights partying in hotel rooms with groups of women while I collapsed from kidney failure and was rushed to the ER. He lounged in clubs with women in both arms, downing bottle after bottle, while I went into an allergic shock and nearly died. I confronted my wife about it, but she shoved me away impatiently. "Shane already told me nothing happened with those women! You're just jealous and faking illness to slander him!" However, the playboy's actions only escalated. Chasing bigger thrills, he even started getting involved with men in drag. Thanks to him, I caught an STD, which pushed my wife to demand a divorce. I went to the hospital for treatment, but the doctors could not find the cause. Instead, they tossed me straight into an addiction rehab program. Later, for the sake of boosting his live stream numbers, the playboy went wild in Southwind Asira's nightlife scene. After he spent an entire night drowning in pleasure, I, drained past my limit, collapsed and died on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day he began his online hunt.

Having been reborn, this time around, I look straight at Arthur Thorne and choose to break our mate bond. Lilian Wilder, the she-wolf he's been seeing on the side, is carrying his pup. To let her pup become his heir, he pleads with me to step aside and make room for her. "Lilian saved my life before. I can't let her and my pup live on the outside as rogue wolves. You'll help me, right? Once my heir is born, I'll bring you back." Back when Arthur had been besieged by the Silvermoon pack, Lilian betrayed her pack and rescued him. Having survived the attack, he became the Alpha, but Lilian got chased out of her pack. Ever since then, he'd been looking after her and would leave the pack from time to time to accompany her. In my previous lifetime, I'd adamantly refused to break our mate bond. However, in order to let his precious Lilian become his Luna, Arthur poisoned me with wolfsbane himself, subjecting me to endless torment. Unable to bear the pain any longer, I chose to break our mate bond. Lilian stared at me mockingly and said, "It's just a bit of wolfsbane. Why are you acting like it's torture? And don't tell me you're going to slander me by saying I did it!" Arthur didn't want to let the love of his life suffer in any way. So, he dragged me right to the burial grounds and watched as I bled to death. Now that I've been reborn, I'm not going to let myself be at anyone's mercy again!

My daughter-in-law cheated on my son behind his back, and I caught her. When I confronted her, she turned the tables on me, accusing me instead. I told my son everything exactly as it happened, but she broke down crying and accused me of bullying her. "Ever since I married into the Simmons family, you've never been happy with me," she sobbed. "If I’d known you’d slander me like this, I would’ve been better off dead!" She attempted to hurt herself to prove her innocence, but my son stopped her. "Mom, how could you accuse my wife like that? You're my own mother, but this is too much!" he shouted. Furious, he moved out with her. Later, I fell gravely ill and begged my son to come see me one last time. When he finally arrived, he brought her with him. To my horror, they removed my oxygen tube. As I struggled to breathe, I heard her smug voice whisper in my ear: "Old hag, if it weren't for you accusing me of cheating, Herman and I wouldn’t have gotten your inheritance so quickly!" She laughed coldly. "Oh, and next time you accuse someone, make sure you have evidence. Did you really think your word alone could ruin me?" I died choking on my final breath. Afterward, they lived happily, spending my money without a care in the world. But then, I woke up. It was the day I caught her cheating again. This time, I went straight to work. I replaced the lubricant at home with industrial-strength glue. She wanted proof? Fine. I’d give her proof.