The Will To Keep Winning

For eight years in a marriage devoid of light, I had abortions five times. Every time, Sam would grip my hand when I woke up, his eyes red, and promise to find the best doctors to help me recover. After the third miscarriage, he finally hired a team of top-tier nutritionists, ensuring that every single meal was planned perfectly. He always comforted me, "Don't worry, Penny. We're still young, so we can have another baby!" When I found out I was pregnant again, snowflakes were dancing outside my window. I wrapped my fur coat tightly around my body and rushed to the company, only to hear Wren's furious voice outside the VIP suite, "Are you insane? Those five babies were your own flesh and blood!" Sam replied coldly, "Nicole needs specimen for her experiments. All I'm doing is providing her with the materials she needs." His words dug into my heart like icy spikes, and I could even hear my own bones cracking. "As for Penelope…" He chuckled. "Do you think that our marriage certificate is the real deal?" Snowflakes stung my face like needles, and I finally found out the truth about our marriage. From the very beginning, I was nothing more than a living test subject for the woman he truly loved. Sam was right. Those unborn children never even had legal identities, and were worth less than a piece of paper, just like my so-called marriage. Glass shattered from inside the room, and I could hear Wren cursing, but I turned and walked towards the elevator. Since Sam's priority was Nicole and nothing else, I was hell-bent on making him pay the price.

I was dying of kidney failure. Henry Colombo—the ruthless Mafia heir who once swore he’d burn the world to keep me alive— found me a donor. But the price… was her. Susan Miller, the woman who’d always lingered between us, smiled as she set her terms: “Be mine for one month. Pretend you love me—and I’ll save her life.” He agreed. He said it was just to save me. But every lie, every kiss, every photo she posted online was another nail in my coffin. Each time the surgery drew near, she invented a new delay—a fever, a nightmare, a tender bruise. And Henry believed her. He always believed her. The night my heart flatlined on the operating table, he was across the city, feeding her grapes under candlelight, whispering her name—the name of the woman who had let me die. When he finally learned the truth—that every tear she shed was rehearsed, every promise she made was poison— he destroyed everything. Her lies. Her wealth. Her family name. His own empire. But none of it brought me back.

Even on my hundredth proposal, Isabelle Cole still turns me down. We've been together for seven years. For the previous 99 proposals, she said her childhood friend isn't married yet, and she can't bring herself to break the promise they've made. Staring at the ring in my hand, I finally can't hold it in anymore. "If Ronald never gets married, are you going to keep him company forever? What am I to you?" Isabelle's expression turns gloomy in an instant. She snatches the ring and throws it into the river. "Ron and I made a promise when we were kids that we'd get married at the same time. How can I just abandon him? "And besides, is that piece of paper really all that important, Lucas? We've been together for seven years. What difference would it even make?"

I had just placed the winning bid on an outrageously expensive piece of jewelry, but the auctioneer refused to close the sale. When I pressed her for an explanation, she turned to my husband with tearful eyes and claimed that I always bring different men here to spend money. “Ma'am, as a professional, I can’t sit back and watch you keep deceiving people. “Sir, I’ll refund your money and even cover the loss myself. Just open your eyes and find someone who truly loves you.” My husband looked visibly moved, their gazes locking in front of everyone as if I wasn’t even there. With all eyes on me, I snatched back my black card. “It’s my card, my money. Why are you giving it to some social-climbing chauffeur?”

While my husband was chatting with his friend at the dining table, his friend suddenly spoke in Italian. “You married Lyra to write a pardon letter for River. You’ve been showing more concern toward Lyra, but you’re still lying to her and saying that the contraceptives are antidepressants. Don’t you think Lyra will break down if she learns the truth?” My husband wore a complicated expression as he chuckled bitterly and said, “Why let a child be born if I don’t want it? As for Lyra, so long as she doesn’t interfere with River’s happiness, I’ll keep my promise and protect her for life.” No one knew that I had already learned Italian to keep up with my husband. I stood in the living room with fresh hickeys on my neck. In my hand, I held the “antidepressants” and felt a chill run down my spine. So, my husband’s love for me had been fake? My salvation had actually been a meticulously planned lie? In that case, I would help them fulfill their wishes.

"Gemma, we agreed on ten years. That time is up now. I'd like to leave with Kira." "You know he never liked her," she added quietly. In the quiet of the coffee house, Josie Carr spoke with a bitter expression. She had lived with Graham Holloway for ten years—ten long years, and still, she hadn't managed to thaw his heart. It wasn't love that brought them a child—it was a night of drunken confusion. He'd pushed her onto the bed, dazed and careless, and Kira came from that. Afterward, he gave her a villa and agreed to let her keep the baby. His only condition was simple: the child must never call him father. Publicly, Graham remained a single man. "I will never marry you. Don't hold out hope. "I'll pay child support, but don't expect me to acknowledge her. That child doesn't exist to me."

William Parker is a mafia boss. Everyone knows that I'm his weak spot. When I was abducted back in the day, he gave everything he had—including his gun—and ran the risk of being shot to get me back. To keep me from being bullied or mistreated, he's constantly toeing the line between the authorities and the underworld. After I fall pregnant, he's by my side around the clock and doesn't even let my feet touch the ground. Rumor has it that he has a secret lover that he dotes on to no end, but I've never believed it… until she appears before me to challenge me. William slices one of his fingers off to beg for my forgiveness. The very next day, his secret lover throws a pregnancy test in my face. "Will's so desperate to knock me up that he can't keep his hands off me—I can't take it anymore!"

On the third year of her marriage to Tristan Ford, Nicole Snow caught him in their bed with another woman on her birthday. Watching the man she had loved for ten years, and seeing him maintain his tender facade before others, Nicole's heart was completely shattered. She remembered the vow Tristan once made to her with deep affection: "Nicky, I want to spend my whole life with you. Unless death separates us, I’ll search the ends of the earth to find you. Nothing will ever keep us apart." Fine, then she would die, so he could never find her.

When I opened my eyes, I found myself supposedly transmigrated to some ancient era. Every morning, before light touched the sky, someone would yank me out of bed to haul trash, chop wood, and do whatever filthiest job needed doing. Somehow, I'd become the lowest-ranked servant in the entire estate. The estate lord's son would climb onto my back and ride me around the courtyard like some pet he was proud to show off. Anyone in the household could hit me, kick me, or shove me aside, and not a single soul would speak up. Five years passed like that, so awful that I almost lost my mind, as if I were living in hell. Then one day, a group of servants cornered me. They didn't bother hiding their intention. The moment I saw their faces, I knew I was in trouble. Fists flew, boots landed, and everything blurred. Just before I passed out, I heard them whispering, "We're going to kill him if we keep this up." "Come on. This place only looks like some old noble estate. It's not an actual one. If he dies here, we're the ones who'll get dragged to court!" "Relax. Ms. Shaw will handle it. The idiot pissed off her childhood sweetheart. Getting tricked into this place is exactly what he deserves." Fear swallowed everything, and the world went dark. When I woke again, the lady of the house had conveniently "returned from visiting her family." The lord threw a grand celebration with tables full of food, wine flowing, and musicians playing like nothing had happened. I carried dishes into the banquet hall and lifted my head. Her face was the same as my wife's, Melissa Shaw. I set the final dish down, stepped closer, and in a voice only she could hear, asked, "Ma'am… are you enjoying your little game?"

I have a deal with Aldric Cromwell, the so-called King of Equinox Street, a billionaire lawyer-turned-CEO. If I confess to him 142 times while wearing a wedding dress, he will cover his limited-edition Koenigsegg in flowers, drive me to the most magical castle, and give me the grandest wedding imaginable on my 143rd try. However, Aldric is nowhere to be seen that day. Instead, he makes headlines by renting out the entire Wondergrove Theme Park just to celebrate his sweet new girlfriend, Bianca Alvarez's birthday. Bathed in the glow of brilliant fireworks, they share a tender kiss, cameras flashing like stars all around them. That moment quickly becomes the top trending story on the internet. Meanwhile, I go viral in my own way for showing up in a wedding dress for the 143rd time outside his company building. Speculations and theories swirl about the mystery man I keep confessing to but never reveal. People also wonder how long it will be before I make the 144th declaration. When Aldric realizes I have faithfully kept our agreement, he promises me, out of pure guilt, that he will finally fulfill the vow he's made to me after the final confession. Dressed to the nines, he arrives at his company, driving that flower-covered, limited edition Koenigsegg, only to receive a final text from me. "There won't be a 144th confession, Aldric. We're over."