Tragic Theater

I was scrolling through reddit when I came across a post seeking advice. The poster said he had HIV but was hiding it from his fiancée. The post had tens of thousands of likes. Intrigued, I clicked to read more. As I went through the details, I realized—why did his description of the fiancée sound so much like me?

On the day Luke Smith attended his dear friend's funeral with his child, the media swarmed around me, questioning if I was the child's biological mother.Luke Smith, the high-society sensation, adored by all.For seven years, I was his secret lover, and how he spoiled me was the talk of the town.But eventually, he said, "Hazel, she's just a minor celebrity. What makes her think she can marry into the Smiths?"Indeed, his later wife, hailing from a prestigious lineage, epitomized grace and charm. Her only flaw was her inability to bear children.Facing eager reporters, I smiled, "I hardly know Mr. Smith. With that said, I wish him and his wife a lifetime of happiness and a joyful family."The news quickly went viral online.That very night, Luke Smith, disheveled and troubled, embarked on a long journey to San Anglos with his child.

I ended up with the person who used to bully me in school. As the morning sunlight seeped into the room, I barely moved my arm when the arm wrapped around my waist tightened, pulling me closer. Ethan Chambers lowered his head to kiss my neck, his deep voice tinged with a husky tone from just waking up. "Did you fall asleep last night?" I froze for a moment before nodding obediently. In the past, I might have resisted, but three weeks with him taught me a simple lesson to be compliant. He took my hand, which rested at my side, and interlaced his fingers with mine, playing with them as if amused. Leaning close to my hair, he let out a low chuckle full of interest. "This time, you didn’t throw away the ring I gave you?" He was referring to the diamond ring on my finger. There had been two others before this one—one I hid in the freezer, and the other I threw into the fountain in the garden downstairs. I didn’t want to think about the consequences of losing the first two rings for now, but the result of the third ring was clear: I was going to marry him, the person I once feared the most.

I’d been in love with Cassian Cross—my brother’s best friend, the one and only mafia boss in the NYC—for as long as I could remember. On the night of my twentieth birthday, my brother promised me a surprise. I didn’t expect that surprise to be a very drunk, very kissable Cassian. One reckless night. One baby boy. Cassian agreed to marry me after giving birth. But the day I gave birth to Leo, Cassian said nothing. He just packed up and vanished to France for nearly five years. Then he returned with Alessia. His first love. And when she saw Leo and me, she ran away and disappeared. After that, Cassian never left my side. Like he was trying to be the man I needed all along, that we were finally going to have our chance. But fairytales are lies wrapped in pretty paper. On Leo’s sixth birthday, we were driving to dinner. The brakes failed. The car spun onto the highway, flames licking at the engine. Cassian got out. And then he locked the door. “If it weren’t for you, Alessia would still be by my side. Now? It’s your turn to suffer.” It wasn’t until that moment I understood—Cassian had never loved me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at my twenties birthday. Cassian was in my bed, exactly where I’d left him in the past. This time, I didn’t hesitate. I ran. And on my way out, I made the call I should’ve made the first time. To Alessia.

When I saw Vincent Carson again, he was now the formidable head of the Carson Corporation with a net worth of tens of millions. By his side was a young, promising screenwriter. Meanwhile, I dragged myself out of the basement, crippled and in a pitiful state. With a condescending tone, Vincent asked, "Three years ago, you sabotaged Irene's chance to win that award. Do you regret it now? If you wish to remain my wife, you must apologize to Irene first." At the same time, the system's voice sounded in my mind, 'Host, are you ready to go home?' I nodded silently. A look of satisfaction washed over Vincent's face as he stepped forward to embrace me. However, in the blink of an eye, I began to vanish right before his eyes. Subsequently, I heard he lost his sanity.

Izzabelle Smith was on her teenage years when she lost her mother and brother into a car accident. Her father tried to find out the real cause of their tragic deaths but ended up failed. During her senior year, she met Ethan Scott and eventually they became a couple but one day he just disappeared without a word leaving her broken-hearted. 5 years later, she's back with a new powerful appearance and full of determination to find out every missing pieces of her puzzled past.

I receive a message one day. "Your condoms have been delivered. Total to be paid: XX dollars." I distinctly remember that I've never made such an order, but the address and phone number are mine. I call my husband, but he only says differently, "My godsister ordered them. She's too shy to use her details, so she used yours. It's not like it'll affect you." I nod silently. She might as well not have them if she can't afford to pay for them.

I was framed by my boyfriend's childhood sweetheart and spent five years in prison. While I was locked away, he moved her into my home, seized my property, and built a perfect life, thriving off everything I worked for. However, I would take back everything that they stole from me.

My husband, Henry Luther, never loved me.He's always loved my younger sister instead.I chose to step aside and fulfill their love.But no one believed my sincere sacrifice..."Are you trying to act pitiful again?" Henry stared at me with a hostile look in his eyes.

The year my boyfriend lost his sight in a car accident, I silently disappeared. Later, when he regained his sight, he used every means to find me and forced me to stay by his side. Everyone said I was his true love, unwilling to let go even though I abandoned him. Until one day, he appeared in front of me with his fiancée, and he asked, "Mia Frank, does the taste of betrayal feel good?" I shook my head with a faint smile, it didn't matter, even if it hurt, it wouldn't hurt for long, because I was about to forget him.