Tattooed Face

After the Ig publication S.H.I.T Journal goes viral, I search its website out of curiosity. The satirical journal bills itself as a home for all things academic garbage. The moment I open the site, the top trending article catches my attention. It reads, "A Research on How to Deceive a Gullible Foster Mother With Face Blindness and Trick Her into Raising Me as Her Biological Daughter for Twelve Years". "Keywords: deception, face blindness, self-delusion, false family bonds" I freeze and click into the full article with trembling fingers. The more I read, the more terrified I become. "1.1 Definition of face blindness and how to swap daughters to deceive the foster mother" "2.1 Practical uses and drawbacks of the foster mother" "3.1 How to profit by exploiting the foster mother through her face blindness" The content sends a chill through my entire body. The comment section is already in chaos. "Does this mean the author is actually the daughter of the mistress, and her father swapped her to be raised by his wife for twelve years?" "That's not all. Didn't you read 2.1? The wife had her own daughter, and the husband deliberately handed her over to traffickers!" "What the hell… In 3.1, it even says that because the wife has face blindness and can't tell people apart, the author makes deals with single fathers of classmates and sends the wife to…" At that point, my phone slips from my hand and crashes to the ground. The screen shatters instantly. I have severe face blindness, and I have a daughter who was kidnapped and only found again after three years.

My new dormmate thinks my boyfriend is a player and advises me to break up with him. After I politely reject her, she gets mad and complains about me online, saying I'm love-addled brain. Her video goes viral, and the online community calls me an ingrate who doesn't know what's good for me. When I see the smug smile on my dormmate's face, I slap her without even batting an eye. "Stop acting like you're a champion for feminism when all you can think of is making yourself seem better than other women!"

My brother wants to become the godson of a Mafia don. As his sister, I was picking out his burial plot. In my last life, I overheard the truth that the selection wasn’t an honor but a suicide mission—used once, then erased. I did everything I could to stop him, but he cursed me for blocking his path to power. With no other choice, I secretly called the police. So, my brother was arrested; his dream shattered. Instead, someone else took his place, and during a bloody shootout, that man proved himself. He became the don’s sole successor. Our family lost its home, paying the price for offending the Mafia. My parents and my brother went insane. Convinced everything was my fault, the three of them worked together and buried me alive in the hills behind town. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my brother excitedly announced he was going to take part in the selection. Looking at his stupid, clueless face, I smiled. This time, I’ll watch with my own eyes as he becomes nothing more than a replaceable lapdog.

Today is my wedding day. When we reach the ring-swapping ceremony, my wife, Ariana Holmes, suspends the ceremony for three minutes, simply because a man has barged into the venue. He glares at Ariana darkly. "Ariana Holmes, you've tattooed my heart on your chest, yet now you're marrying another man? Are you forcing me to carve my heart out of your body?" As soon as his words fall, he lifted the blade in his hand. Realization dawns on me. It turns out that the heart tattooed on Ariana's chest isn't mine, but rather, her first love's. At that moment, Ariana, who was all docile and quiet earlier, shudders violently. She slides the ring onto my finger haphazardly before rushing toward Ivan Hatfield. "What the hell do you want from me, Ivan?"

When I returned from a mission, I found my Alpha mate, Wyatt, had tattooed his Beta's sigil next to our sacred mating mark. I cut my mission short, stormed back to the pack, and publicly declared my intent to Reject him. The mating mark is sacred, a symbol of two souls eternally bound. Desecrating it is the gravest insult to the Moon Goddess. Wyatt tore the rejection papers to shreds, casting them to the ground. Fury blazed in his wolfish eyes. "Over a sigil? You're tearing us apart over a meaningless symbol. Are you insane?" "Do I look like I'm kidding?" I sneered. "Fine. Let the Moon Goddess be your judge." The color drained from his face. "Faye, if you dare go through with this, I'll strip Rory of his birthright. He'll never be Alpha." "How could I be cursed with a mother like you? You're ruining my future as Alpha! I hate you!"My son, Rory, snarled from the side, his eyes burning with hatred. I looked at this father and son, who was now both strangers to me, and my heart turned to ash. My fingers tightened on my herb pouch. "The moment your father desecrated our mark," I said, my voice eerily calm, "I was already done with you."

Because I had a face that screamed 'pick-me girl', I became the target of my mother's deepest hatred. She claimed that just seeing me made her sick, bringing back memories of my father's affair. In retaliation, she channeled all her affection into helping a child from a poor village, praising her for being kind and genuine while insisting she loved her hundreds of times more than she ever loved me. But then that same girl went behind my back and seduced my boyfriend, and my mother reacted by hitting me across the face repeatedly. "How did I end up with such a shameless daughter? You're the third wheel, and you're accusing her of being the other woman!" Yet when I fell gravely ill with cancer, she was beside herself with grief, begging for forgiveness while praying earnestly. "How could I not love you, my dear? I've made such terrible mistakes…"

My younger brother had opened a high-end beauty salon, so I took my mother there for a facial. We picked the most expensive package, but the moment the mask was applied, Mom's face began to burn. When we peeled it off, her entire face was covered in rashes. I called for the director, but she looked impatient. "Oh, that's just a normal detox reaction." I was stunned. "Her face is practically ruined! What products are you even using?" "Ruined?" She flared up like someone had stepped on her tail. "Your mom's skin is just too bad to handle premium nutrients! Once our products are opened, they're non-refundable—got it?" I pointed to the brochure. "It says right here—'gentle and non-irritating, full refund if any adverse reaction occurs.' Is this how Stellan Fallow taught you to run a business?" She crossed her arms and lifted her chin high. "I am the boss! You and your mother look broke as hell—clearly here to mooch a free treatment. Now that it didn't work, you're trying to scam us for money? "Let me tell you something—this set costs 38 thousand, and with my emotional damages and lost wages, that's a total of 100 thousand. If you don't pay up today, I'll have the police take you both in!" A hundred thousand for a product that ruined someone's face? It was no wonder Stellan suddenly wanted to open a salon—it turned out he and his girlfriend were running a scam together! I was about to call Stellan, but before I could, she hit the video dial first. "Bubby, get over here—two broke idiots tried to freeload a treatment and now they're trying to shake us down for money!"

At my wedding, my wife’s bodyguard was wearing the same suit as me. He was standing to one side. When I was saying my vows, he suddenly stepped forward and slapped me. I covered my face and looked at my wife, Amelie. She looked calm, as if she knew this would happen. Seeing that she was not reacting, the bodyguard smirked and slapped me again. Blood trickled from the corner of my mouth. The guests below the stage were flabbergasted, even as rage burned within me. “Call the police!” “You can’t call the police!” Amelie finally said. My parents also suddenly shouted, “No one is allowed to call the police. Anyone who does would be opposing the Bennet family!”

I went to visit the set where my chaste fiancee, the award-winning actress Whitney Lockwood, was shooting her new movie. When I heard she was shooting a bed scene, I frowned but still agreed. However, her scene partner, a young actor named Yarden Stein, could not get into character. Whitney grew impatient. She said they should do it for real. I stopped her and said they could use a body double instead. She slapped me across the face and glared at me with teary eyes. “Yale, this movie is very important to me! I have to make sure it’s perfect! Or do you think my first time matters more than the career I love most?” In the next second, she tore off all her garments and climbed onto the young actor without hesitation. She turned to look at me. Her eyes were full of sorrow. “I’ll imagine Yarden is you. Then, it will be no different from being with you.” I watched them slowly prepare for the scene. I heard the clapboard snap as filming began. My face stayed blank as I made a phone call. “Blacklist Whitney and Yarden. Anyone who still hires them will be making an enemy of the Foster family.”

After I was brought back from the kidnapping, my mafia boss husband, Jonathan Caruso, arranges for me to live in a new villa. "You've suffered so much over the years, Nat…" Jonathan caresses the scar on my face, sympathy and pain evident on his face. As I listen to his words, I just smirk in return. Sure, he's been keeping up a loving and devoted facade. Unfortunately for him, I've always known that he doesn't want me to survive at all. After all, he's the one who has delivered me into the dark and damp water prison three years ago as a wedding gift for Governor Frederick Romano in order to marry his daughter, Kelsey Romano.