The Story Of Tonight Lyrics

I was treating some friends to dinner at the private club my cousin owned. When we wrapped up, I waved over a server. "Just put it on Nick's tab." The server nodded, but a manager I'd never seen stepped in to block her. Wearing a smile that never reached her eyes, she said, "Sir, Bosco is a members-only establishment. We don't offer tabs." I felt a flicker of irritation. "I'm the owner's cousin. Just let him know." She let out a sharp, mocking laugh and slapped a bill onto the table. Eighty-eight thousand. Exclusive suite atmosphere maintenance fee, ten thousand. High‑end social network filtration fee, twenty thousand. Spontaneous entertainment ambience enhancement fee, fifteen thousand. And a mess of other miscellaneous charges. Since when did Nick's place dare to bleed customers dry like this? "What's wrong? Can't pay and now you're trying to name‑drop?" She looked me up and down with an arrogant tilt of her chin. "I've seen plenty of our boss's relatives. Not one of them is as broke, pretentious, and shameless as you." Right in front of her, I dialed Nick and put the call on speaker. "Ten minutes," I said. "Make sure she disappears from my sight. Otherwise, I'm revoking your authorization for this club."

A wealthy heiress from Belvoria’s elite circle asked me to be her dead boyfriend’s substitute. My compensation included a 50,000-dollar base salary, plus 8,000 dollars per shared meal and 10,000 dollars per accompanying shopping trip. My hypocritical older sister quickly stopped me from agreeing to this deal. “We come from a respectable family. How can you sell your dignity for such little money?” Yet she later became a rich man's mistress and successfully married into wealth. Meanwhile, I struggled to balance work and studies to pay for my tuition. This hurt my academic performance. After graduation, I could only find a job with a monthly salary of 3,000 dollars. I even developed a tumor from overworking. I eventually died in a cold and impersonal hospital, unable to afford treatment. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day the young heiress asked me to be her dead boyfriend’s substitute. This time, I agreed without hesitation. I was determined to take this role.

The hotel called, politely reminding me that the condoms used last night were unpaid and had been charged to my membership card. I was stunned. I'd been working late until midnight and hadn't set foot in any hotel. I confronted my husband, the only person who knew my card code. Nathan Phelps looked at me, bewildered. "Honey, that hotel costs over $10,000 a night. I'd never go there. It's probably a system error. Someone must have mistyped the card number. I'll file a complaint tomorrow." Unconvinced, I called my best friend, who managed the hotel. "Tracy, check who Nathan was with at the hotel last night. I'm catching him red-handed."

In my dormitory, there was a poor student. With all the good intentions in the world, my roommates and I were eager to help her, not realizing how much our help would cost. She wasn't impressed by the hairdryer we offered, insisting on borrowing a branded one instead. The skincare products we gave her? They were applied to her feet. And, as if that wasn't enough, she specifically demanded luxury face cream. One day, I lent her my tablet to look up some information, and to my surprise, she secretly opened up my gaming app, spent all the diamonds and reward tickets I had saved for half a year, and left me empty-handed. When I asked her to pay me back, she turned the tables and posted a public message online, accusing me. "I'm just a poor student from the countryside, never played games before. Are the materials in the game really worth this much?" Before I knew it, the comment section was flooded with criticisms of me. In a fit of frustration, I fired back with a post of my own, throwing her into the spotlight. "Well, I suppose you've never tasted the bitterness of being cyberbullied, have you?"

My boss gives me 200 thousand dollars in cash so I can pay his workers their salaries. I leave the house to buy some envelopes to put the money in, but that's when my father lends the money to our neighbor so they can buy a house. I question him about it, but he says I know nothing about forging relationships. Even my mother and brother blame me for not keeping my things properly—they say I'm dumb for leaving money lying around when I know my father likes to lend money to others. Later, my boss fires me but doesn't call the cops. All he wants is for me to repay him. To do so, my father finds me a high-paying job. It's only when I get there that I realize I'm supposed to be an old man's housekeeper. On my first day there, he violates me. I want to call the cops, but my father tells me to be forgiving of him. After that, the old man's daughter thinks I seduced her father and has me beaten to death. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the day my father lent money to our neighbor.

During lunch, an older female colleague asked me, "How old are you? Do you have a boyfriend? When are you planning to get married?" I shook my head. "Twenty-seven, no boyfriend, and no plans to get married." She was momentarily stunned. "What are you talking about? How can a woman not get married?" she asked. I smiled without responding. Realizing I wasn't joking, her expression darkened. "Did you work as a escort and get caught? Is that why no man wants you?"

Seven years into our marriage, Zane Grimes and I remained childless. He once held me close, his voice tender and earnest. "Don't overthink it. I've never cared for children. You're all I want in this life." But on the day his company went public, as the ceremonial bell echoed through the hall, the doors burst open. My sister stormed in, cradling a wailing infant. "Zane, this is your son! How can you abandon us?" Zane's face paled as he turned to me, his eyes brimming with panic and a silent plea. Unbeknownst to him, I had long known about his betrayal and the child.

The year of my college entrance exams, I gave up my acceptance to Harvard for James Carter. But after five years into our relationship, I ended it. Outside the dorm building, I caught him holding Sarah Williams, who was dripping in designer labels, locked in a passionate kiss. James smirked, "You're just a simple farmer. What kind of life could you possibly offer me?" But he seemed to forget that I had bought him everything - from his tailored Tom Ford suit to his Rolex watch. Heartbroken, I walked away. If someone else wanted to be a doormat for him, they could be my guest - I was done. Later, I focused on growing my agricultural business, eventually expanding into space farming. That's when the media uncovered my true identity as the heiress to a multi-billion dollar fortune. Mr. Williams groveled, forcing Sarah to kneel beside him, begging me to consider a business partnership. James, his eyes red from crying, grabbed my sleeve and said he regretted everything.

Both Sienna Zeller, a top-tier actress, and I went into premature labor, and my husband, hailed as the star obstetrician, pulled a deformed baby from me. The shock nearly broke me. I sank into despair, only to accidentally discover that Sienna was my husband's first love. He had deliberately caused my early labor, planning to swap my healthy baby for hers, all to protect her image. Sienna played the perfect mother in public while secretly abusing my daughter until she was left mentally impaired. Heartbroken, I went to rescue my child, only for my husband and his first love to conspire, shoving us both down the stairs to our deaths. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I gave birth. I touched my unborn baby and vowed that this time, that cheating, cruel man and that treacherous woman would pay.

After I was reborn, the first thing I did was bind my daughter, Maia Howell, and a seriously sick pig to a pain-transfer system. In my last life, when Maia was born, her skin was covered with sores. This caused her so much pain that she would often cry all night. My husband, Bruno Howell, told me he'd found a pain-transfer system that could save Maia, but it could only bind to another woman. For my daughter, I didn't hesitate—I bound the system and shifted Maia's rotten wounds onto myself. When Maia regained her health, Bruno dragged a stranger to me and said, "Claire is the one I've always loved. The part about the system only binding to women? That was a lie to trick you!" Maia shoved me to the ground in disgust and joined them. "Look at you, all covered in sores—how could you even be my mom? I’ll let you in on a secret. The night your daughter was born, Dad swapped me with her. To make you willingly bind to the system with me, I had to call you 'Mom' for ten years! Makes me sick even thinking about it!" They left me locked in the house to starve to death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment Bruno was convincing me to bind to the pain-transfer system.