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I was sent abroad to work. After three years, I finally helped my fiancee secure a highly challenging and significant client. When I returned home, she drove me out of the house. Her eyes gleamed with disdain as she looked at me while carrying a child. “I’ve got a husband and a child. You went abroad and left me all alone for three years. How could you come back to me? You’d better come to your senses and resign from the company tomorrow!” She trampled upon my dignity and love. Then, I realized that our five-year romance had come to an end.

I used to work as a model, but not the typical kind. In our profession, everyone had a benefactor, someone who supported them financially. I dedicated myself to my benefactor for a year and a half, tending to his needs diligently. Despite my dedication, I was eventually abandoned. Just when I gathered my courage and decided to start afresh, he showed up again, "Do you want to date me? Officially."

At nine months pregnant, I was in the final stretch of my term, and my body heavy with a baby due any day. But my husband, Vito Falcone, underboss of the family, had locked me away. He held me in a sterile underground medical room and injected me with a labor suppressant. As I screamed in agony, he coldly told me to endure it. Because his brother's widow, Scarlett, was expected to go into labor at the exact same time. A blood oath he'd made with his late brother declared that the firstborn son would inherit the family's lucrative West Coast territory. "That inheritance belongs to Scarlett's child," he said. "With Daemon gone, she is utterly alone and destitute. You have my love, Alessia. All of it. I just need her to deliver safely. Then it's your turn." The drug was a constant, agonizing torment. I begged him to take me to a hospital. He grabbed me by the throat, forcing me to meet his icy gaze. "Stop the act! I know you're fine. You’re just trying to steal the inheritance." "To get ahead of Scarlett, you'll stop at nothing." My face was ashen. My body convulsed as I managed a desperate whisper. "The baby's coming. I don't care about the inheritance. I just love you, and I want our child to be born safely!" He sneered. "If you were really that innocent, if you had an ounce of love for me, you wouldn't have forced Scarlett to sign that prenup, waiving her child's inheritance rights." "Don't worry, I'll be back for you after she's given birth. you're carrying my own flesh and blood, after all." He kept a vigil outside Scarlett's delivery room all night. It was only after seeing the newborn in her arms that he remembered me. He finally sent his second in command, Marco, to release me. But when Marco finally called, his voice was shaking. "Boss... the missus and the baby... they're gone." In that moment, Vito Falcone shattered.

I get picked up by the cops in the middle of the night for street vending. While questioning me, they pull up my file. One officer eyes me suspiciously through my mask and asks, "What's a Clairefield University graduate like you doing selling stuff on the street at midnight?" I freeze and lean over to look at the file. The ID number matches mine, but the photo has been replaced with one of Madison Bass. That's when it hits me—20 years ago, I was the one who got accepted to Clairefield University! Dazed and numb, I stumble home only to hear my husband, Joseph Gunther, speaking on the phone. "Madison, don't worry. I won't let Lucy interfere with your life. Just go abroad in peace." It's him! Joseph helped Madison steal my identity and my future. My stomach twists. I turn to confront him, to expose the truth. But before I can, he strangles me to death with a belt. "I'm sorry, Lucy. You can't ruin Madison's future…" When I open my eyes again, I'm back in the classroom. Our homeroom teacher is handing out university application forms. This time, I'm taking my life back.

In my last life, my brother Leo—the heir to the Moretti crime family—stripped our estate bare of every last soldier, all for a Vegas jaunt. All because his new flame, Scarlett, had a jones for the high-roller tables. The Volkovs—our rivals, the very ones Leo had just pissed off—saw their opening and stormed our gates. My mother, Sofia, took a bullet meant for me. Died protecting me. I blew up Leo’s phone, my pleas turning to screams. He didn't answer. He waltzed back in after the shooting stopped, bringing our men home, but far too late for it to matter. Then, the news from Vegas. Scarlett was gone. A suicide note left behind. In it, she painted me as the monster. The one who’d leaked our weaknesses to the Volkovs. The one who'd orchestrated a fake kidnapping and torture plot, all to drive her to despair and lure Leo home. A perfect, tragic lie. Leo read the letter calmly. Then he burned the letter and told me, "Forget it. It's handled." Father tore into Leo for abandoning his post, for leaving his family to die. And me? I was named the new Consigliere. But after the celebration, Leo cornered me in the wine cellar. His face was a mask of cold fury as he pressed the barrel of his gun to my forehead. "This is for family traitors," he hissed, his voice pure venom. "The throne is my birthright, not some backstabbing bitch's prize!" When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Right in the middle of the fire and the blood. This time, I shoved my mother behind me, dragging her toward the panic room. And the bastards who were too blind to believe me? They’ll regret it.

I was diagnosed with stomach cancer and needed a total gastrectomy. My husband, who was hailed as a rising star in the medical field, personally performed the surgery on me. However, after the operation, my health only worsened. He told me that the cancer had spread too quickly, and there was no hope left. It was not until I accidentally came across a hidden medical report and a massive insurance policy that I learned the truth—I never had stomach cancer. Not only had he removed my stomach, but he had also taken my uterus. Desperate, I confronted him, asking why he did that to me. He held his mistress in his arms, looking at me with disgust as he said, "If your father weren't the director, do you think I would've married you? You're not even worthy of being in the same room as Mabel. After one more surgery to remove your stomach, I'll be promoted to chief physician. "Didn't you claim to love me so much? I'm just using your body to help me and Mabel get ahead... I'm doing you a favor." Then, he and his mistress threw me off the building, making it look like a suicide. When I opened my eyes again, I had gone back to the day of my stomach surgery.

My boyfriend said that art held no restrictions, so he used my provocative paintings to enter a competition. Amidst a row of classic ceramic figurines, I became famous. He shot to fame, landing in the top ten of trending searches, while I was humiliated by the entire internet and mocked as a “ceramic influencer.” When I confronted him, he looked at me with disappointment. “They don’t understand art, and neither do you? I thought you would support my work, but I didn’t expect you to stir trouble! You’re so immature!”

On my birthday, Jake handed me two bucks and took me to a gas station to buy a lottery ticket. Then he dashed off, claiming he had an urgent work meeting. As I sat alone in the restaurant celebrating my birthday, I spotted my boyfriend, who claimed he had no time for me, having dinner with another woman. Without a second thought, I sent him a breakup text right then and there. Two days later, that lying jerk had the nerve to demand I return the lottery ticket. That's when I discovered it was worth $5 million. I cashed in the ticket and told him to get lost.

No one knew that I was the Thorn pack’s head Alpha’s soulmate. He and Carol, who had been best friends since they were kids, were very close. Everyone in the pack thought they were soulmates while I was just a mistress threatening their bond. To protect Carol’s reputation, Barnett lied to the pack, claiming Carol was carrying his pup. This made our child illegitimate. When I confronted him in pain, demanding why, he explained, “Carol is known for her gentle and quiet nature. If our packmates knew she was pregnant without a mate, they would shame her. She's too fragile to go through all this.” For the first time, I looked at the man I thought was my mate and questioned if the Moon Goddess had made a mistake. Later on, while Barnett was away gathering herbs for Carol, the elders forced me to terminate my pregnancy, branding our pup as a disgrace to the Thorn pack. By the time Barnett returned, our pup was gone, and so was I.

My husband sponsored a poor female college student. While I was being dragged into an alley by a criminal, he was helping her pick out lingerie. While I was hospitalized with serious injuries, he used the money my mother left me to buy her a limited-edition handbag. I confronted him in a heated argument, but he accused me of being unreasonable. "I thought your injuries were so serious, but look—you didn’t even die! Besides, your money is my money. I’ll spend it however I want!"