Tara Westover Family Home นิยาย & เรื่องราว

I had returned to the past with my younger sister, Wendy Anderson. In the past, she had married a CEO. After we returned to the past, she insisted on snatching a security guard from me. My parents favored her, so they almost passed out from anger when they learned that she was marrying a security guard. She said nonchalantly, “Liam will be successful one day. Just you wait and see.” In the first year of marriage, she gave birth to Liam Smith’s son, Charlie Smith. She was very smug about that. She looked down on me, who gave birth to a daughter. “Go away and don’t pass your bad luck to me. I’m planning to give birth to nine more sons for Liam. We’ll be a perfect family of ten sons.” She expected a wealthy life ahead of her. However, she did not know that Liam had a crazy wife back in the countryside. He also had seven difficult older sisters and three mean mothers and aunts that she would have to appease.

It's been three years since I went against my family to be with my boyfriend, Marvin Stuart. At last, my parents have finally agreed to let me marry him. I rush back to our place at once, eager to share the news with him—only to end up overhearing his conversation with his childhood friend, Camellia Hough. "They're redeveloping the area where my family home is, and we're going to get a huge buyout payment! You can finally abandon that loser and officially be with me now," she declares. "You wouldn't have had to settle for being with her if my family hadn't gone bankrupt back then." Marvin agrees to it right away. "I'll lie to her, saying that my family is in debt, so that she'll break up with me. Let's get married right after that." I swallow down the words I'd been prepared to say and calmly enter the house. Marvin turns to me with a sorrowful expression. "My family owes a debt of five million dollars. I don't want you to have to suffer with me. Let's break up." I nod. "Sure." Soon after, I sent my parents a text. "You don't need to transfer the three buildings to Marvin anymore. Also, call off the redevelopment project on the south side of the city." Since Marvin wants to break up with me, I'll grant him his wish. As it stands, we've always been from two different worlds.

Eight months pregnant, my family threw me a loving baby shower. When fire broke out, my parents instantly shielded my blood-cursed sister and fled, leaving me behind to die. My husband, Lysander, rushed into the flames to save me. His back was scorched raw, yet he only cradled my belly, whispering, “You and the baby must be safe.” I thought that was love. Until I accidentally saw his messages to my sister— “Once she gives birth, the cord blood will save you. Just hold on a little longer.” I touched the life kicking inside me and smiled silently. The next day, I scheduled a termination. And on the day of the procedure, they stormed into my hospital room with sedatives and restraints.

When I was discharged from the psychiatric hospital, my brother and sister-in-law dropped everything to personally pick me up. Even my nephew, who had just finished his college entrance exams, arrived with a box of carrot cake he had waited in line all day to buy. His warm smile was the picture of innocence. “Auntie, congratulations on your discharge. With me here, you’ll never feel lonely again.” To outsiders, we were the perfect family—envied by all and even awarded the title of a local model family. But behind the facade of family bliss lay a very different story. On the very day my brother transferred the last of the family properties to me, I went live on social media. In front of an audience that idolized my so-called perfect family, I boasted about my "accomplishments." I conned my nephew into paying for a spot at an elite school, duped my sister-in-law into stepping into a scandalous club, and tricked my brother into losing everything he had worked for. “My brother has treated me with nothing but kindness. And I can only repay his kindness with betrayal.”

While I'm off taking a mascot job at the mall just to make a quick buck, my wife, Marissa Osbourne, is accompanying her first love, Dominic Finch, on a shopping trip to buy him a suit. She even goes as far as to buy him five suits in one go just to show how generous she is. The thing is, those suits cost three months of my salary. When Marissa approaches me, she doesn't recognize me in the mascot suit. Instead, she starts jeering at me. "To think that a grown man is still dressed up as a mascot in a mall just to earn money! What a pathetic loser!" She doesn't know that I've given up on my inheritance of hundreds of millions of dollars' worth of assets. As I watch Marissa leave while tittering, I suddenly realize that the marriage that I've been maintaining for so many years is hollow all along.

"The Rossi family doesn't need a Don. We just need a Donna." As the only heiress of the Rossi family, this was the law that I had set when I received the Browning pistol—a pistol that resembles the ultimate authority in the Rossi family—from my Papa when he was on his deathbed. But three years ago, the police relentlessly investigated the money laundering business that my fiance, Lorenzo Moretti, was in charge of. If that business were to get exposed, the Rossi family's hundred-year-old legacy would be ruined. In order to protect my family's legacy and to allow Lorenzo to continue legalizing my family's businesses, I decided to become the scapegoat for all the crimes. On the rainy night of my arrest, I personally handed the pistol over to Lorenzo. "Protect my family for me before my return." This gave Lorenzo legitimate authority to run my family. He used the pistol to purge my subordinates and take over the family business. He even broke my law by announcing to the public that he'd become the next Don soon. An invitation with golden borders is soon leaked from the family's inner circle. Lorenzo's and another woman's names are printed on the cover. During a visit, my private lawyer says mockingly, "If you don't get out of prison now, the Rossi family might take on another man's last name for real." I just sneer in response. After that, I get bailed out of jail in advance and return home to celebrate Lorenzo's "funeral". But no matter how many times I scan my iris at the biometric scanner in the estate, the result always comes out wrong. A young woman, who's toying with the pistol, opens the door at that moment. The contempt and disdain in her eyes are plain to see. "Where the hell did a crazy woman like you come from? You came to the wrong place. This is my private turf, you know."

I was the real daughter of the Sinclair family, yet I was the one abandoned when their fake daughter and I were kidnapped and taken to the top of a building. They were given a choice between the two of us, and they chose to save the fake daughter, letting me be pushed off from the eighteenth-floor balcony. Even though I survived, I was completely disappointed in them. Then, their attitudes changed overnight. My parents, who despised me, started asking me about my likes and dislikes. My brother who wished me dead, started suddenly giving me precious jewelry. Even my fiancé, who always claimed I was nothing compared to the fake daughter, started to prepare for our wedding. To say I was confused was an understatement.

As an ordinary human being on the earth, Tang Long was brought to the Cultivation World by a lost immortal, and relying on his amazing talent, he made it to one of the five emperors in that world. However, struck by Thunder of Nine Heavens, he lost his life. It was lucky for him to rebirth in the human world as an intern who was named Qin Haodong. With his excellent medical skills, he became a divine doctor of traditional Chinese medicine and a father of a baby girl, whose mother was as pretty as a fairy. The little girl even asked him to find more lovers. What a cute girl...

Contains strong language: My parents died, my sister died, my brothers left, and I was left to a man who thought we were pawns in his play. You know the type of people who say "it gets better" they're lying to you, because it just keeps getting worse. How the hell did I end up in a gang? Well, this is that story

For six years, Medea Watts believed her marriage to Gordon Begum had remained purely platonic because he was naturally repulsed by intimacy. That was, until she witnessed the intimacy he shared with another woman. He ignored her completely after her near-death ordeal, choosing instead to celebrate the birthday of his first love’s daughter, the three of them looking every bit like a perfect family. Only then did Medea realize that the woman Gordon had never truly let go of was actually his late brother’s widow. All these years, he treated their marriage like a vow of abstinence, saving himself for the woman he truly loved. And in that moment, whatever love Medea had left for him finally died. Without hesitation, she filed for divorce. Gordon only sneered dismissively. “Even the York family, who raised her for years, no longer wants her. How could she possibly leave me?” To Gordon, Medea was simply a sheltered young woman the York family had spoiled and protected for years. She was beautiful, obedient, and utterly useless. He assumed her talk of divorce was nothing more than a childish tantrum. Yet Medea quietly obtained the divorce agreement and moved out of their home without a word. It wasn't until one of her design sketches went viral that her career took off, transforming her into one of the most talked-about rising designers in contemporary luxury fashion. Countless people admired and pursued her. Only then did Gordon realize how badly he underestimated her. With reddened eyes, he knelt before her and begged in a hoarse voice, “Dea, I’ve completely cut ties with Sharon. After everything we’ve shared over the years, can’t you give me one more chance?” The once untouchable man finally lowered his pride for love. But Medea merely lifted the hem of her dress and turned away, stepping directly into the embrace of the powerful head of the York family. The man wrapped an arm around her waist and said calmly, “Sorry, but if anyone has a claim on her, it's me. After all, in some sense, I raised her myself.”