Thirty-three Thousand

On my twentieth birthday, my father asked me to draw from a box of straws. It was to pick a husband between William Smith and Austin Smith to inherit North Town. The short straw represented Austin, while the long straw represented William. No matter how hard I tried, I could not get the long straw. However, I was certain that I did not want to marry Austin. I drew straws for three years, but it was to no avail. I had no choice but to tamper with the straws to marry William as I wished. However, ten years into our marriage, he was no longer gentle and kind. He had turned into a really cold person. He neither returned home nor touched me. Even when I threatened him with a knife, he refused to talk to me. Despite feeling hurt, I was unwilling to let him go. That was until I watched him kick away the only medicine I had for my asthma while I was writhing on the floor. “I was the one who switched out the straws. There was no long straw, yet you forced me to marry you. Mandy died from a broken heart, so you should pay with your life.” When I opened my eyes again, I was holding a short straw. I calmly said, “Since it’s the short one, I choose Austin.”

In my previous life, my three sons told me they wanted to set up a Family Bond Fund for me. Each of them would deposit three thousand dollars every month. I cried with gratitude, truly believing that decades of sacrifice had finally paid off. One of them even said, "Mom, you've given us so much. It's our turn to take care of you now." However, eight years later, I was told I have uremia. That was when I discover that the bank card, which supposedly held the fund, couldn't even cover the dialysis deposit. Soon after, my eldest son video-called me. He said he wanted to buy a better apartment in a good school district. He was short of 150 thousand dollars for the down payment and asked if I could lend it to him first. My second son came to the hospital with his wife and daughter. He didn't ask about my condition at all. Instead, he kept showing off his daughter's piano competition trophy, hinting that he needed 50 thousand dollars to enroll her in a prestigious international piano program. My youngest son was even more straightforward. He said he had his eye on a limited-edition pair of sneakers and wanted me to pay 30 thousand dollars for them as a birthday gift. The moment they realized the bank account didn't have enough money, their faces fell. "We each put in three thousand dollars every month. Over eight years, that's at least eight hundred thousand dollars. Mom, are you hiding the money from us?" To force me to reveal my savings, they took turns pressuring me, switching between sweet talk and threats. They even told relatives that I had dementia and had been scammed out of my money. Unable to take it anymore, I yanked out my IV late one night and walked out of the hospital, only to be hit by a car, dying instantly. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back on the day of my hospital checkup.

Alex, a CEO and university professor, struggles with his disabled legs, leading him to be harsh on himself and others. Claire, the daughter of a prostitute, feels low self-esteem and faces numerous challenges in her life with nothing to offer. They are afraid to approach each other, yet their hearts yearn to be together. 'I never chose to love her; my heart did, and I was powerless against it.' 'Three years, thirty years, three hundred years... as long as your heart still loves me, I will still be here waiting for you.'

Three thousand years ago came the twilight of the gods. The betrayal of the Fire God reduced all civilizations to ashes, along with order itself and the glory of the divine realm. Three thousand years later, upon the new lands created by the King of the Gods, the deities were gradually reborn. The silent and ruthless King of the Gods. The beautiful and gentle Queen of Heaven. The innocent yet cruel Fire God. The endless conflicts between gods and giants, the blessings left behind for a thousand years, the memories preserved within the Hall of Valor… To me, all of it had once been nothing more than tales recorded in ancient scrolls. Even my encounter with Loki felt like a destiny long foretold. Only after becoming engaged to him did I realize that my marriage to Odin had once been the happiest time of my life— and that Loki himself had been the one who destroyed that happiness with his own hands. Had there been no memories left by the God of Love, had the war between the two tribes never begun, I would have known clearly what I was meant to do. To remain by Loki’s side. To accompany him—from rebirth… to destruction.

On Halloween night, an accident struck the haunted house attraction. The children and I were trapped in a pitch-black room, while the staff outside spoke without the slightest urgency. “At this hour, the repair workers have already gone home. If you want them to come back, you’ll have to pay an extra thirty thousand in overtime. “If you’re unwilling, then stay inside for the night.” I begged them to call the repair worker first. We had been in the sealed space for too long, and one boy with heart issues was struggling to breathe. But the staff member only scoffed. “That’s got nothing to do with me. He’s not my kid. Either pay, or sit quietly.” Yet later, outside the emergency room, that same woman knelt on the floor in tears, begging the doctors to save her own child…

The night I found out, I almost fixed it. Almost. My assignment had been changed to Everglades Academy. Two thousand miles south. Swamp territory. Three omegas died there last year. I'd asked Kael to file my school preference. Silver Peak Academy. Together. The way we'd planned since we were twelve, lying in the snow making promises to the stars. Now the screen said Everglades. I called him immediately. He picked up on the second ring, relaxed as always. "Hey." "My assignment," I said. "It says Everglades." "Oh." Not guilt. Recalibration. "Lil came by while I was filing yours. She wanted to play a prank—switched it to Everglades for a laugh." He laughed. Light. Careless. "Deadline's tomorrow night. Just override it yourself. It takes thirty seconds." "If I hadn't checked—" "But you did check." That patience. "Fen. You always check everything. That's why she knew you'd catch it. It was just a joke." Just a joke. So my future was a punchline. My life, someone else's entertainment. I said nothing. I packed my gear. I left for the transport hub on departure day. Kael found me at the platform. His smile was gone. "I told you to override it. You didn't change it back?" "No."

I'm having a mental breakdown as I face a clogged drain with my feverish and fussing daughter in my arms. Meanwhile, my husband has reserved a hotel to celebrate another woman's birthday. My mother-in-law spits on the floor. "This is what you deserve. You can't even capture a man's heart!" I clench a fist around the winning lottery ticket in my pocket. I want to get a divorce.

The day my brother, Chester Rodney, came to the orphanage to take me home, my boyfriend Dominic Huxley looked at me coldly and said, "If you choose to acknowledge your birth family, we're over." I knew he had his pride—he could never accept the difference in our social standing. So, for him, I turned my back on the family I had yearned for my whole life. In the decades that followed, I toiled without complaint, saving every cent to help him rise to success. By the time I was not yet fifty, overwork had worn me down. Lying on my deathbed, my breathing shallow and weak, I watched Dominic on television. He was now an acclaimed scientist, just awarded the nation's highest research honor. Tears welled in his eyes as he thanked another woman. "All these years," he said, "I never felt worthy of Alicia. But now, maybe I can use this award as the prologue to a love I've owed her for decades." The "Alicia" he spoke of was the woman mistakenly switched with me at birth—the false heiress the Rodney family raised as their own. The camera zoomed out. Alicia Rodney stood radiant, graceful, and perfectly preserved by years of luxury, blushing as she accepted the trophy. "I waited for you for decades," she said sweetly, "but marriage is still something I'll need to ask my brother about." Chester, who had long taken over the family, looked at her with an indulgent tenderness tinged with something unspoken. "I was adopted by our uncle back then for one reason—to protect Alicia. Making the only princess of the Rodney family happy has always been my life's mission." Only then did I realize—everything I thought I had chosen freely, every sacrifice I made without regret, was nothing but a trap, carefully woven by two men, all for Alicia. The betrayal pierced my heart. I died without peace. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day Chester came to take me home from the orphanage. I glanced past the two men eyeing me with subtle disdain. Without hesitation, I stepped into the car. "Take me home," I said. This time, I'd send whoever stole my life back to the gutter they slithered from.

Thirty days is long, thirty days is short. It comes and goes in a blink of an eye, again it can wash you over with all the happiness you want. Eva had only Thirty Days. Thirty Days to make her husband fall in love with her. Thirty Days to claim what was rightfully hers, his heart. The question is, Is Thirty Days enough? No?! Then add Sixty Kisses to it! Thirty Days and Sixty Kisses, Eva has her husband on his knees before her. Let's travel through the chapters and unravel her story. Caution: This story contains heavily mature content. Rated 18+

I was twelve when Henry Shaw took me home from the orphanage, gave me a new name, put me through school, and gave me a good life. Ten years later, his first love returned from abroad. Her name sounded like mine, and her face looked like a mirror image. I quickly realized I had been a stand-in all along. Crushing the diagnosis in my pocket, I decided that I was going to live the rest of my life for myself, even if I did not have much time left.