Thanks, But I'll Save Myself

Pertengkaran dengan adik kesayangan membuat Aleeya, si apoteker cantik galau. Dia menjadi banyak pikiran, sehingga tidak hati-hati saat menyeberang jalan dan mengalami tabrakan maut. Namun, insiden itu justru membawa takdir baru untuknya, menjadi tokoh antagonis di cerita rakyat. Mampukah Aleeya mengubah nasibnya dengan menjadi Bawang Merah baik hati?

I once thought I had the most dangerous yet the most perfect love in the whole world. My lover, Dante Costello, is the Underboss of the Costello family. He carries himself with grace and nobility. Everyone fears and respects him, yet he only shows his gentle side to me. I used to think that the man who keeps lurking in the shadows and has once left humiliating marks on me while gazing at me with cold eyes is his brother, Luciano Costello. Luciano is a Capo who lives in the shadows. He's also a madman whose hands are stained with blood. Everything changes when I smell the unique scent of gunpowder and blood that only Luciano has from Dante's custom-fitted suit. Only then do I realize that I have never just belonged to one man all this time. During the day, Dante plays the role of my perfect lover. He showers me with jewelry and deadly romance. At night, Luciano transforms into a devil who satisfies his twisted, possessive urges in the roughest way possible. Both brothers have set up an elaborate trap to lock me up in this gilded cage and admire my struggles from afar. When I find out about the truth, I don't cry or bleed over it. Instead, I'm filled with eerie calmness. The brothers want to watch me break down. Instead of doing that, I'll ruin them. I flutter effortlessly between the brothers, using their only weakness against them. Apparently, both of them think that they are the only hunters in this game. This time, it's my turn to weave them a trap.

"I had a conversation with Death and he wants you back." --- At the New Year's Eve party, Reniella De Vega finds the dead body of Deshawn Cervantes, the resident golden boy and incredibly rich student from Zobel College for Boys, his death was no accident. By morning, Rei sees him again - seemingly alive and sitting in the corner of her bedroom. However, only she can see him. Haunted by the ghost of Deshawn Cervantes, Rei is approached by Death himself with a dangerous proposition. If she can solve the mystery of his murder, she'll be granted a single wish - to wish someone back to life. With the help of meandering rumors, his suspicious rich friends, and the help of the victim himself, can Rei uncover the truth? Or will Deshawn Cervantes remain as a wandering soul? How can Reniella De Vega save his life?

When my daughter, Jasmine Richmond, attends my boss' birthday banquet with me, she gets violated there. Meanwhile, I just stand at the doorway of the private room, completely unmoved by Jasmine's cries of help. Since then, Jasmine has become depressed. As my wife, Riley Stuart, watches Jasmine lose more weight overtime, she swears that she will seek justice for Jasmine no matter what. But on the day the court case is opened, I give false testimony for my boss and has personally overturned all the accusations. Jasmine breaks down on the spot. She then hurls the documents at me angrily. "You're no dad of mine! You're just a bastard! I will never forgive you for the rest of my life!" Riley rushes over and shoves me away. As she shields Jasmine from me, she screams at me in a voice that's trembling from rage. "Do you even have a conscience left? How dare you collude with outsiders and ruin our daughter!" After I walk out of the courthouse, Jasmine's maternal relatives have me all surrounded. With an icy expression, I goad them on the spot. "Go on, lay a finger on me. I'll make sure to have you locked behind bars in no time!"

As the end of the year approaches, my wife, Sylvia Small, who is five months into her pregnancy, accidentally falls into a lake. Our neighbor who is a police officer, Raven Weber, jumps in and rescues her. Unfortunately, she slips into a coma after her heroic feat. As I rush over, I see that a crowd has gathered at the scene. Sylvia is drenched from head to toe, wrapped up tightly in a blanket. Water droplets keep dripping from the tips of her hair. "Are you alright, Sylvia?" I ask, drawing near. The moment Sylvia sees me, she moves toward me and burrows herself into my arms. She clings to me like she is clinging for dear life. "You're finally here, Zach!" she exclaims emotionally. I frown and push her away. "Just say what you have to say. This suit is expensive. Don't dirty it," I said indifferently. My words make Sylvia's eyes go wide with disbelief and shock. But that only lasts for a second before an anxious look replaces it. She holds my arms firmly and says in a choked voice, "Officer Weber is in a coma because of me. Please transfer a sum of money to me so that I can thank her for saving my life." I glance at Sylvia impatiently and reply, "What's that got to do with me? Why should I transfer you my money so that you can give it to her?"

“Just stay married to me for three years. After that, we divorce. In return, I’ll help you destroy your husband and the woman who took your child.” I agreed. Not because I was weak. But because I survived. I was once a devoted wife. Obedient. Loyal. Pregnant with a child I believed would save my marriage. Then his first love returned, and everything I trusted turned to blood and betrayal. We were rushed to the same hospital. I was bleeding. She was crying in his arms. There was only one operating room left. He chose her. He wheeled his mistress, his first love, into surgery and left me behind to miscarry alone. I lost my baby on a cold hospital bed while my husband held another woman’s hand. I divorced him. But some wounds do not heal. They sharpen. Now I have a contract marriage, a man with no love to give, and a plan written in patience and pain. I will take everything my ex-husband values, piece by piece, and make him beg for what he threw away. Forgiveness is for the dead. And I am very much alive. Watch out, husband. I will ruin you.

During a kindergarten parent-teacher conference, a rich wife accuses me of stealing her bag. I'm baffled. I bought the bag myself abroad, and it even has my name etched on it. However, when I scrutinize the bag, I discover that my name is missing. I call my husband, and he impatiently says, "I gave your bag to Jen. She's fresh out of college and needs an expensive bag to make herself look good. Even Finn said the bag is too young for you—it suits Jen more. You're too old for these things. You should be glad to even have a fake one." I bark out an exasperated laugh. I can go without having a husband, but the bag has to be returned to me.

On the day of our engagement, just because Madison Calder wants to eat the ravioli my fiance Nicholas Olsen made, he decides to leave without hesitation. I can't help but try to stop him, but he slaps me across the face. "It's just an engagement party—we can have another one. What if Maddy starves?" Even my brother Brandon Lewis scolds me for being unreasonable. "You're older than Maddy. Can't you be more understanding?" I say nothing more and choose to let go and leave. They think I'm just throwing a tantrum and ignore me. They even clear their schedules just to take Madison on a vacation. It isn't until half a month later that they think to contact me, only to discover I have already joined a classified government weapons research program that will last ten years. Moreover, I have decided never to come home again. They completely panic.

When I was three and a half, the system sent me back to my dad's high school days. The good news—the brooding villain destined to destroy the world was still just a blond guy. The bad news—there were way too many blond guys at that school, and I could not tell them apart. Hence, every time I saw one, I called him 'Dad'. By the time I got to the 101st, I was robbed. He grabbed me by the collar with a fierce look on his face, like he was about to hit me at any second. The long-dormant system suddenly spoke up, "Kiddo, the one walking out of the school right now is your dad!" I sniffled and shouted, "Hey, you'd better be careful! I'm telling you, my dad's almost an adult! Right, Dad? Elliot!" Elliot Smith froze for a second and pointed at himself. "Who, me?"

Dad is famous for being a total simp over Mom in the elite society. Naturally, he views Callie Archer, the stepdaughter whom Mom has brought with her, as his own. But Callie is afflicted with a severe case of walking phobia. Her feet couldn't touch the ground at all. Only when she's stepping on my back can she roam around in the house freely. So, whenever Callie looks in a certain direction, Mom will press my head down and force me to crawl toward Callie to serve as her doormat. The doctor issues a warning to my family that my spine is severely contorted. So when Callie wants to admire the flowers in the yard while wearing a pair of spiked shoes again, I can't endure the pain anymore, so I shiver slightly out of instinct. Callie ends up losing her balance and falling to the ground. She bawls like a baby afterward. Mom rushes over immediately before kicking me in the gut, her high heel lodging into my flesh. "It's extremely rare for Callie to be willing to leave the house! Why must you ruin her mood? Can't you just be more understanding and play your role as a doormat for the sake of your sister's illness?" Meanwhile, Dad scoops Callie into his arms, his heart bleeding for her plight. He coaxes her gently, telling her that he'll buy her new dresses later. I can only curl up on the ground while hacking up blood. But Dad just thinks I'm playing the pity card. He commands his men to throw me into the basement. Apparently, I can only be released once I've learned to stay stationary when I'm supporting Callie. As I clutch my broken ribs, I feel my tears flowing down my face as well as the blood from my injuries. I'm sorry, Dad. Next time, I will definitely not move a muscle, just like a corpse.