The Awakening Review

I was performing the hundredth "restoration" surgery on my mafia husband's latest mistress when I finally decided to leave him. For five years, I, Isabella Rossi, have lived a double life: the respected wife of a powerful Don, and the personal physician tasked with "purifying" the women he discards. Vincent's twisted religious conviction is his law: only a wife untouched by any other man can bear his legitimate heir. I was that pure wife, yet he treated me as his most unclean possession. My love for him died a slow death. A thousand empty nights. It was killed by the cold steel of my own operating table. By the sounds of other women boasting about his touch. The five-year prenuptial agreement that bound me to this hell was set to expire at midnight. I had already called my grandfather, the only man Vincent truly fears. My escape was hours away. By the time he realized his mistake, it was too late.

After being Nelson Jackson’s devoted simp for five years, Sarah Paterson became pregnant. Just as she was excitedly waiting for him to propose, Nelson had a change of heart when his high school sweetheart returned from studying abroad. Sarah didn't fight to keep the relationship. Instead, she went straight to the hospital, had an abortion, and immediately agreed to the arranged marriage her family had set up with a business partner's son. But Nelson came to regret his decision. He begged Sarah to keep his child, but she only gave him two words in response. "Too late."

My wife went abroad for a six-month training course and unexpectedly secured a major deal.  Thanks to this contract, she was promoted to director against all odds. When I saw the news of her return in the work group chat, I immediately ordered flowers to pick her up at the airport. However, her belly, which would have been eight months pregnant, showed no signs of it. She had aborted our child, turning me into a laughingstock among colleagues. Just as I tried to swallow my anger, she told me she was pregnant with someone else’s child. She demanded that I step aside and make way for her.

Conan Hamilton's true love secretly wears my wedding gown. She's pregnant, and she slips and falls when we argue. After being taken to the hospital, she's told that she'll never have another child. Conan is furious. He banishes me abroad to be a nun. A year later, he comes to the nunnery to take me home. However, all he finds is that I've long since broken free. I even have a child in my arms. His eyes are red as he snarls, "Are you trying to use the child to force me to marry you? Or do you just want to mock Queenie for not being able to bear children anymore?" He has no idea that the child isn't his. He also doesn't know that I'm about to marry someone else.

I wasn’t even pregnant, yet I ended up popping abortion pills like they were candy. It was all because in my past life, the moment my widowed sister-in-law got pregnant, every single side effect of her pregnancy became mine. She strutted around happily with her big belly, consuming spicy tamales, while I was rushed to the hospital for violent nausea and stomach pain; she showed off her flawless skin in crop tops every day, while my stomach broke out in hideous stretch marks. When I told my husband what was happening, he just shoved me away impatiently. “Enough with the jealousy! My brother’s dead, and she’s carrying his only child. Of course, I should look out for her. Do you really have to put on such an act?” After that, my sister-in-law went even further. She kept testing her limits during pregnancy and even ate a mango she was allergic to. And me? I went into anaphylactic shock, landed in the hospital, and nearly died. Doctors couldn’t explain it. They just brushed it off, saying I was overly jealous and it was all psychological. Later, my sister-in-law tried to brand herself as a “hot single mom”. She went live, belly and all, to show off her weight-loss workouts. She jumped around for three straight hours. And me? My uterus literally gave out, and I hemorrhaged to death. When I opened my eyes again, it was the exact day she first announced her pregnancy.

The night my boyfriend and I celebrate our first anniversary, we get into an accident. My soul travels through time and ends up ten years in the future. Here, I see that my boyfriend and I have married and started a family. It's the future I've dreamed of. However, it seems that I'm out of a job, and I've given up on my dream. I struggle to make it through endless days of my boyfriend's ice-cold treatment. Ultimately, I see myself sitting on the edge of a building's roof after falling deep into postpartum depression. When I open my eyes again, I see my boyfriend's panicked face…

On Christmas Day, eight months pregnant, I struggled through the kitchen,cooking for my husband and his secretary. When I finally sat down, hoping to taste a piece of turkey I didn’t even get during Thanksgiving, my husband shoved me aside like I was nothing. He slid the turkey in front of his secretary instead. “Alison,you’re already so fat. Stop eating. Let Daisy have it—she deserves to enjoy your cooking.” Daisy，chewing on the turkey I had painstakingly prepared, had the audacity to mock me under the guise of playing truth or dare with my child. “So, what do you think your mom looks like?” “Mommy looks like a fat pig on a farm!” “Her stretch marks? They’re like disgusting worms crawling all over her. Even Santa would run for his life!” Their laughter erupted like daggers piercing me from all sides. Humiliation and rage burned through me as my dignity was stripped bare. I demanded an apology from that vile woman, but my husband—my husband!—turned his cold, cruel face toward me and said, “Get out of here.” Pregnant, exhausted, and humiliated, I stood there in shock. Then I snapped. I grabbed the Christmas cake and turkey and threw them in the trash. I walked out without looking back. This wretched family doesn’t deserve a second of my effort or a single ounce of my love!

My sister-in-law and I have always been close, and we happened to be pregnant at the same time. However, during a routine check-up, she was diagnosed with uterine fibroids. I urged her to have surgery as soon as possible, but she refused and instead claimed her sallow complexion was a sign she was carrying a "child of fortune." She then retreated to the countryside to rest and nurture her pregnancy. Nine months later, while I grieved the loss of my stillborn child, she came back from the countryside with a baby girl in her arms. Consumed by the suspicion that the child was rightfully mine, I demanded a DNA test. That same night, my own mother and brother conspired to take my life. After my death, I discovered it was all a conspiracy. My family had orchestrated everything to swap my child for hers. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back to the moment before I took her for that fateful check-up.

When the gas cooker exploded and Sharon Milton was close to death, only her five-year-old son, James Collins, was at her side. Her spirit stood next to James and looked at him as he sobbed and called Sean Collins. He begged Sean to come home and save his mommy. However, Sean only scolded him and told him not to lie like Sharon before hanging up. James wiped the tears from his eyes and called 911. When the ambulance finally arrived, Sean appeared and stept in. "Daddy, Mommy is bleeding out and needs the ambulance. Please don't take it from her!" "You little liar. Looks like your mom hasn't taught you very well. Step aside! Riley is due. She needs this ambulance more than Sharon!" James's eyes had turned red due to all the crying, but Sean pushed him away and left without even taking a look back. He got into the ambulance with Riley in his arms. "Daddy... Daddy! Please save Mommy!" James sobbed as he chased after the ambulance, but he didn't see the speeding truck that was heading towards him. Sharon shouted her son's name and wanted to push him away, but there was nothing she could do. She could only watch as James was run over by the truck. Beneath the wheels, there was a pool of blood spreading across the ground. Sharon was about to lose her mind. Over the past years, Sean had abandoned Sharon and James countless times for Riley Winston and her daughter. Whenever Sharon and Sean had an argument about this matter, Sean would always just say that he was repaying Riley's father for saving his life. Sharon just felt that Sean didn't know what he was doing. What she didn't expect was that he didn't care about her and James's lives at all. Sharon felt that she was the one who killed James. Her heart ached as she took her last breath. If there was another life, she just wished that she had nothing to do with Sean.

Everyone knows I'm Brooke River's bootlicker—I've stuck by her side for the past ten years. Now, she's getting engaged to someone else, and everyone's waiting to see me make a fool of myself. The problem is… I already got married three years ago.