Story About Spongebob Squarepants

One day, I come across a post on the Internet. The original poster keeps boasting about the fact that all three children belonging to his older brother are actually his spawn. "The funniest thing is, there was once when he suspected the origins of his children. So, he got someone to take the children to take a paternity test. "Guess who he ordered? That's right—it's me, his most trusted younger brother! I get to sleep with his wife whenever I want. The money he earns all goes to my sons. This means he's working for me for the rest of his life! "Just the thought of that makes me happy to no end! Ahahaha!" But the thing is, I'm the older brother who's mentioned in the post.

My brother-in-law started making a fuss about wanting to spend Christmas vacation at the beach, so I decided we'd make it a family trip. When my husband's adoptive sister got wind of it, she insisted on tagging along with her kid. Without a second thought, my husband went ahead and booked plane tickets for everyone—except me. He expected me to drive there with all the luggage. I thought at least someone in the family would speak up for me, but no, they all sided with him. Fine. If that's how they want it, then we'll go our separate ways—what's theirs is theirs, and what's mine is mine. But the moment I took that stance, the whole family suddenly started panicking…

My boyfriend's childhood sweetheart, Janine Swettenham, returned to the pack, alone and heavily pregnant. To protect her reputation, Aiden Monroe decided to mark her. I asked him in disbelief, "What about me? What about our baby?" He just shrugged and said, "Janine’s not like you. I’m the only family she has left. She can’t handle the gossip. Just wait for me. Once she has the baby, I’ll mark you." However, Aiden forgot that I don’t have any family either. While the entire pack mocked and slandered me for being pregnant out of wedlock, Aiden was by Janine’s side, holding her hand through every hospital visit. That’s when I finally understood that some favoritism didn’t need a reason. I left in fury. Then, the accident happened. I lost the baby. Broken and numb, I chose to walk away from it all. I left both him and the pack, vanishing from his world completely. Five years later, I returned, accompanying my mate on a business trip to the Silverglade Pack. Craving the taste of old memories, I went to the pack restaurant alone. I never expected to run into Aiden again. He looked at me with that same cold gaze and said, "You’ve caused enough trouble, haven’t you? The kid must be four by now. Bring him back. He can grow up alongside Janine’s child."

I check on family businesses in the countryside with my girlfriend, Mildred McClure, in tow. At noon, we stop by my uncle, Barron Cortez's, place for a simple lunch. Just as we are getting ready to leave, his new wife, whom he married just six months ago, Hilda Ross, rushes out and demands that we settle the bill. "Elden, you two just had the Supreme Farmhouse Set Meal, which is 1,888.80 dollars, and your girlfriend picked three organic, pesticide-free tomatoes in the garden. That's 199.80 dollars. "With an 80% service charge, your total comes to 3,800 dollars." Mildred is stunned. "Elden, do we have to pay to eat at your uncle's place?" I start to feel embarrassed, and my expression darkens as I look at Hilda, my supposed aunt, who's barely any older than me. "I've grown up eating at my uncle's place and never paid a single penny. Besides, your prices are downright outrageous!" Hilda calmly whips out a price menu and righteously declares, "That's all ancient history. Now, we're running a farmhouse business where all prices are clearly marked, so everyone pays the same rate. "Barron said you're some big boss in the city. Surely you're not going to stiff us over a little bill, are you?" She steps in front of the gate to block the exit with her body and shoots me a contemptuous look. "Even family settles their accounts. If you don't pay up today, don't even dream about stepping through this door!" While Mildred panics, I laugh in disbelief before taking out my phone and dialing Barron's number. "Uncle Barron, Hilda wants to settle accounts between family, so don't you think it's time we settled our accounts too?"

In my last life, my mother, Lydia Hudson, gave me a pair of earrings worth millions at my coming-of-age ceremony. The moment I wear them, I go from being a rising beauty in the entertainment industry to looking like an old woman in her 80s. Mom stays completely calm. She locks me in the basement and cuts off all contact with the outside world. It isn't until my brother's girlfriend, Stephanie Meyer, kindly rescues me that I finally see the outside world again. But before I can even thank her, I'm stabbed to death by a mob of obsessed fans. "When I visited the first time, your mom only gave me a one-million-dollar gift. It's only your birthday, yet you get earrings worth tens of millions? The Quinton family fortune is mine. If you dare to fight me for it, this is what'll happen to you," she told me. It's only after my death that I learn that she was furious about Lydia giving me the earrings. She spread rumors online that I was a gold-digging opportunist and incited her followers to kill me. When I open my eyes again, I am back on the day of my coming-of-age ceremony. Without hesitation, I hand the earrings to Stephanie. If she wants the Soul-Sworn Earrings, I will give them to her.

When my colleagues find out that I'm pretty good at cooking, they start organizing dinners at my place. Lucy Holt, one of the junior accountants, suggests that we split the groceries evenly between us. As a result, I don't think I can reject their request without being rude. On my last day of work, the group gathers at my place for one last meal. "You're such a good cook, Jess! We'll all be transferring you 500 dollars later. It's just a token of our appreciation," Lucy declares with a bright smile. But the very next day, she sends me a message. "Hey, Jess. You know it's illegal to operate an unlicensed catering business from your home, right? Your house will get sealed off for further investigation. More importantly, the value of goods has passed the threshold of 10,000 dollars, which means the fine you'll have to pay is probably going to be about 20 times that amount. "Since we worked together, we decided not to report you to the authorities. We'll just settle this matter privately. All you have to do is give us the fine you would've had to pay instead." This is how I realized that, combined with yesterday's meal, the total amount they've given me for groceries thus far is exactly 10,001 dollars.

My nephew, Jason, came to live with my family for three years while he went to high school in the city. I took care of him the best I could, never once thinking it was a burden. The day he got accepted into a top-ranked university, he went live online. He told thousands of strangers about his miserable life living under someone else's roof. "I know I shouldn't say this, but I really suffered through it. "Those days of depending on others… I never want to think about them ever again. "I just want all parents to know this. No matter how poor you are, keep your kids with you. Even eating scraps together is better than watching another family of three enjoy a feast while you sit alone in the corner." He became an overnight sensation, so did I. The people on the internet dug up everything about me. My name, my job, my address. I was doxxed. I died depressed from the online bullying. However, I somehow got to do it all over again. This time, I was not going to be the saint anymore.

To help my surgeon husband with his erectile dysfunction, I made an appointment with an expert six months in advance. But as the day approached, Isiah Coleman canceled it without explanation. Just as I was about to call him to demand answers, I spotted a post from his female friend on her social media. My usually stoic husband was beaming as he wrapped his arms around her. The caption read: [Only I can cure your illness.] What struck me, though, was the telltale bulge in his pants in the photo—a reaction I'd never seen from him with me. With a cold laugh, I liked the post and left a comment: [What a miracle worker!] The post exploded, with everyone speculating whether I'd confront the mistress. But what awaited him after the holiday was our freshly printed divorce certificate.

An employee blasted me on TikTok, accusing me of not approving her wedding leave. Ainsley Castillo ranted, "Our marriage rates are low; birth rates are low. It's all because of toxic capitalists like you! You won't even approve my wedding leave. In your eyes, am I just a workhorse? Not even a person? I believed your nonsense about building an all-women company and a women-friendly workplace. Now your true bloodsucking capitalist face is showing!" The video blew up instantly, and countless young people empathized with her hardcore. They piled on online, cursing me, even doxxing me and sending razor blades. As the boss, I went live and confronted her head-on. "Sorry, but I can't approve her wedding leave. She can quit and go through labor arbitration, or sue me, but her wedding leave is out of the question." The live stream exploded in views that day. Among the supporters for her, some claimed to be lawyers, offering to sue me pro bono. But Ainsley looked troubled. "I just want my wedding leave. I never thought about quitting, let alone suing her."

The top-tier charity auction in Manhattan is about to begin when my boyfriend’s stepsister spots a pearl necklace she likes. Wanting to buy it as her birthday gift, my boyfriend reserves a bidding seat. But due to a mistake by the organizers, the seat had actually been reserved by someone else before he booked it. An elderly lady dressed plainly says the seat is hers, yet they show no intention of yielding. I force my boyfriend to give the seat back to the woman. But Amy storms out in a fit of anger. That night, gunshots echo through the neighborhood. A stray bullet hits her, and she bleeds out on the spot. He calmly arranges her funeral, yet still keeps his promise and marries me. Soon after, my father dies in what is ruled an accident. On the day of my father’s funeral, he storms into the church with his men. Looking at me kneeling before the coffin, he smiles arrogantly. “Olivia, this is what you owe Amy! If you hadn’t stopped me that day, the seat would’ve been hers! She wouldn’t have run out in anger, and she wouldn’t have been shot! Let me tell you something—your father was killed by me. And now it’s your turn!” Right in front of everyone, he shoots my younger brother—who had been kneeling beside me, begging for mercy—dead with a single bullet. His bodyguards pin me down and drag me out of the church as I watch helplessly, his blood pooling before my father’s coffin. When I open my eyes again, my boyfriend is glaring angrily at the waiter, about to explode. What he doesn’t know is that the plainly dressed old woman in sunglasses is the mother of the current Don of the most powerful Mafia family in New York—the Morretti family. And that Don is famously devoted to his mother.