Sleeping Feet Story

The princess of Oberlin City scorns the poor, and I'm the biggest thorn in her side—I live in squalor but am specially admitted by a prestigious college meant for the rich. "What right does a peasant like you have to study at the same college as me?" Nails appear on my seat, and the shampoo in my bathroom is switched to glue. Chantelle Gorman even daringly tries to ram me over at the campus entrance—all because I'm a poor young woman from the countryside. To survive, I set my sights on her father, a perfect gentleman. He's a domineering CEO who's never had a shortage of women in his life. It's too bad he has no other children besides Chantelle. Chantelle thinks I'm a piece of trash who'll get kicked to the curb after a night of pleasure, but she doesn't know how easily the women in my family conceive. I give birth to seven sons and a daughter for the domineering CEO. How can Chantelle possibly go up against me and my eight children?

After being away for three years on a special mission, I saw a prenatal examination report on the passenger seat of my CEO wife's Maybach. Fiona Geller told me, "My sister died so young. I must leave her a child. It's just a test-tube baby with my brother-in-law. It's not an affair." The brother-in-law in question, Phillip Stanton, sent Fiona's pregnancy photos to my parents, mocking me for using his sperm to produce a baby with Fiona. My parents suffered a heart attack upon learning the news and were hospitalized. Fiona looked aggrieved. "Don't get so worked up, honey. One of the twins can have your surname!" I looked at her, completely giving up hope. I then called the unit.

I fell asleep in my fated mate Alpha Zane’s office. When I woke up, a magical seal was branded on my face. “Blackmoon Pack’s Slut.” And there was Dahlia, Zane’s new omega assistant. She held an Alpha’s seal, a taunting smirk on her face. “Why is a porcelain doll like you meddling in pack business?” she sneered. “You should just stay in your castle and be the pretty little trophy you are.” My wolf snarled, ready to crush her with my aura. But just as a vase flew at her head, Zane was suddenly there. He shielded her with his own body, his own Alpha power flaring to meet mine. He scowled at me, his voice tight with fury. “Dahlia was just playing a prank. Don’t be so dramatic.” But my eyes locked on the exposed skin of Dahlia's neck, where she was nestled in his arms. There it was. A fresh bite mark. And it reeked of him. Dahlia let out a contented purr, her voice dripping with sickly sweetness. “My Alpha knows I never attended the academy, and I was getting so bored. So to entertain me, he let me play with his Alpha’s sigil to practice creating magical marks.” She giggled. “I was just playing a little game with the princess. You’re not going to be a sore loser, are you?”

My roommate had a strange obsession with taking cold showers on the balcony. She claimed it helped detox her body and brightened her skin. I warned her, “You should be more mindful of your privacy.” However, she only laughed, accusing me of being jealous of her flawless figure. Then, disaster struck. Her shower photos were leaked online, and soon after, thugs showed up at our door, demanding to humiliate her. Instead of taking responsibility, she turned on me. “It’s her! She’s the shameless one showering on the balcony!” Betrayed and defenseless, I was dragged into the woods and left to die, my life snuffed out in humiliation and pain. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back on that fateful day—the day my roommate took her first cold shower on the balcony.

I lapse into unconsciousness for a few days after a high fever. When I wake up, I see my boyfriend and his best friend standing by my bed. I want to enliven the atmosphere, so I joke, "Who are you?" Eric Cobb, my boyfriend, is taken aback. I almost laugh at the look on his face. Then, he points at his friend, Jonah Mullen. "Don't you remember? Your boyfriend's been panicking over you. As his best friend, I have to be here with him." This time, I'm the one who's taken aback. Unexpectedly, Jonah steps forward and says, "That's right. I'm your boyfriend, Jonah Mullen."

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My best friend, Scarlett Throne, is diagnosed with cancer. After running away from home, she takes her own life. She leaves behind only a testament and a pair of eight-year-old twins, a boy and a girl. "You're the only person I can rely on in this world. I'm not asking you to adopt them, but just make sure they have enough to eat." Out of compassion, I take the siblings in. For the next 20 years, my husband and I have been working hard together to raise them, buying them cars and houses. But one day, my adopted daughter reports my husband for being abusive toward her. Even my supposedly dead best friend suddenly appears and testifies against him. I demand to know why she does such a thing. My best friend, filled with righteous indignation, says, "I see you as my best friend! I've never thought you adopted my children just to serve your husband's perversions!" My husband's reputation is ruined, and he's been thrown in jail. I desperately try to prove his innocence, only to be forcibly sent to a mental hospital by my adopted son. There, I wither away and die. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back on the very day my best friend was diagnosed with cancer.

The world snapped back into focus, the memories of my brutal end crashing into the present. I was back—right here, right now, the exact moment Jarrold Jameson was trying to hand me that obscenely expensive purse. In my past life, he'd had a nasty fight with his precious Cindy Mayford. To make her jealous, he decided to use me as his pawn. I'd been stupid enough to love him once, but my pride had revolted. I'd refused to be a stand-in. It didn't matter. He kept engineering "accidental" run-ins, crafting one public misunderstanding after another, all to get a reaction from Cindy. I had done nothing wrong. I gained nothing. But I became Cindy's enemy. Her jealousy festered until it turned lethal. She had me kidnapped. The men she hired left my body shattered and broken. And Jarrold? He held his sobbing darling close and whispered those unforgettable words, "She got what she deserved." In the end, they stepped right over what was left of me and walked off into their picture-perfect life. Now, staring into his smug face, a cold clarity settled over me. This time, everything would be different. I snatched the handbag from his grasp. "A present for me?" I asked, my voice sweet, a sharp, calculated smile on my lips. "I love it. But just so you know, for next time… I've always preferred the classic design from her family's brand. That's the one you should be buying me."

Two years after we marry, my husband moves his sister and her family into our marital home. The four of them settle down and refuse to leave. So, I quit both my jobs. I laze around at home all day and splurge on various things. I have so many parcels delivered that they pile up by the door. Occasionally, I ask my husband and his sister for allowance. When the management office sends someone to chase for our maintenance fee, my husband breaks down so loudly that everyone in the building can hear him. He asks me whether I've lost my mind—who will support the family if I don't work? How will we survive without money? Am I going to allow our family to starve? So, it turns out he does know that we'll starve without anyone generating income. Why does he and his sister stay at home and plot to take away all my money, then?

Using an alternative account, I secretly join a cycling group chat that my husband, Liam Johnson, is in. One day, an announcement is made in the group chat. "We'll be organizing a weekend mountain biking activity with an overnight stay, with two people sharing a room. To add some excitement, we'll be drawing lots for room assignments." I can't really understand it. Curious, I ask, "What if a man and a woman end up drawing the same room?"