Trash Of The Count Family Manhwa

I was once the beloved daughter of the powerful Alpha and Luna of The Midnight Ridge Pack. I thought I had everything—a loving family, a protective brother, and a perfect fated mate—Steve Dolton, the strongest Beta of The Midnight Ridge Pack and the man I had loved for eighteen years. But when I turned eighteen, my world shattered. I discovered that I had been switched at birth and that Penny was the true heir of the pack. In an instant, I became the most awkward existence within The Midnight Ridge Pack. Though my parents promised I would always be their daughter, when Penny offended The Rogue King, they didn’t hesitate to make me take the blame and threw me into the infamous rogue den. I endured torture from silver chains and wolfsbane, my body covered in scars, becoming the lowest slave in the rogue den. It wasn’t until the fifth year that my brother-Alpha Joe and my former fiancé- Steve, came to the rogue den to take me back to The Midnight Ridge Pack. I overheard the casual chatter of the servants. "Does she seriously think she can come back?" "She made Miss Penny suffer outside for over a decade, stole ten years of happiness from her, and now she has the audacity to return and keep taking what belongs to Miss Penny. Shameless." "I heard that bringing her back this time is to help Miss Penny..." My throat tightened, and my palms grew cold. "Julia, come back home with us. We were wrong about you!" "Steve and I will treat you twice as well. You're still our precious little princess!" Amid their urging and apologies, I loosened my hand grip on the tattered hem of my dress. I had already promised to marry the son of The Rogue King. Our wedding was just around the corner.

To encourage overall development, the kindergarten had asked each student to create a hand-drawn poster. My daughter Holly refused my help and insisted on doing it all on her own. Little did I know, most of the other children had their parents do the artwork for them. In comparison, Holly's delicate strokes were quickly dismissed. Not only was her work discarded into the trash, but her teacher also called her out in the parent group, criticizing her for being careless with the assignment. As I racked my brain trying to figure out how to help Holly regain her confidence in drawing, I was surprised to see Holly's artwork among the winning entries in the state-level children's art competition. But the signature wasn't hers—it belonged to another student from her class.

I was diagnosed with late stage the Hollowing—Wolf Soul Degeneration. According to the Compatible Soul Restructuring Program, I could survive by receiving a soul transplant. If no match were found, I would be brain-dead in three months. After more than two months of waiting, the soul that matched me best was given away by my mate to my sister. The therapist recommended that I keep waiting for a new match, but I refused. I signed a treatment waiver and left Central Medical Center early. All the wealth and resources I had spent years saving—I gave every last bit to my sister, Lisa. For the first time, during the full moon family dinner, my parents smiled at me. My mate moved into Lisa’s room to take care of her. I did not get angry. I even made him breakfast. Even when my little pup asked if she could be his mom, I nodded and said yes. I gave them everything they wanted. So why are they regretting it now? …

I was the top engineer at the National Deep-Sea Research Center, and the only person in the world with experience in deep-sea rescue. When my sister’s submarine malfunctioned and was stranded ten thousand meters below the surface, I hung up on her distress call. Then I calmly walked into a police station and turned myself in for leaking classified research. A few minutes later, my father called. His voice was frantic and furious. “Your sister is missing. Where the hell are you? I’m ordering you to get to the site immediately and save her, or you won’t see a cent of the family inheritance!” I calmly pulled the blanket over my head and said into the phone, “I don’t have time, and you’re interrupting my sleep.”

My brother calls me his princess and transfers money to me as allowance; his wife-to-be misunderstands and thinks I'm his secret lover. She crashes my new apartment, which I've lovingly decorated, with a group of friends and family. "I can't believe you're someone's secret lover when you're so young! I'll teach you a lesson on your parents' behalf! I'm going to spread your illicit relationship online so your teachers and classmates will all know how shameless you are!" They trash my new apartment and rip my clothes off. Then, they make sure to get my student ID in the scene as they record me getting bullied. My brother rushes over, his eyes red and bloodshot. "Have you guys lost your mind? How dare you bully my sister!"

When my grandpa fell gravely ill and needed treatment abroad, the elders in the family decided to choose a junior to accompany him. They picked my cousin, but my mom tearfully pleaded with me to take her place. "You're a doctor. Caring for your grandfather is second nature to you. Bianca is an orphan, frail and delicate. She can't handle such a grueling task." To save her distress, I agreed to go in Bianca Pittman's stead, embarking on a five-year stay abroad. When my grandpa finally recovered, I boarded a flight home, eager to reunite with my family. But as I landed, a post on my mother's social media froze me in my tracks. [My daughter is getting married! Thank you all for your blessings!] But I was her only daughter. I couldn't help but wonder who she was referring to.

I was Claire Vitale, the lost daughter they forgot, the bride my lover betrayed—and the dying girl they failed to notice. For five long years, I lived like a stranger in my own home. The Vitale mansion was a beautiful prison, where every kind word hid a lie, every promise was false, and even Lawrence, the man I was supposed to marry, cared more for Vanessa than for me. None of them saw how my body weakened each day, how the pain grew sharper. They were too busy watching their precious Vanessa. Vanessa—the perfect adopted daughter, was the girl my parents loved more than me. She came into our family when I was lost, and when I returned, I found my place already taken—by her. Just as the illness was quietly taking my future. Now she was gone, and they all pointed fingers at me, convinced I was behind her disappearance. The machine they strapped to my head would pull memories straight from my mind. "Where is she?" my father roared. My mother sobbed in the corner. Lawrence, my fiancé, stood silent—his accusing eyes louder than any shout. But I knew the truth would shock them—how Vanessa hurt me, how she faked accidents, how she made sure no one ever believed me. The machine would show them everything. As the machine began its work, I trembled—from fear and exhaustion. After all these years of being unheard, would they finally see?

I was the real heiress in a case of a mistaken identity. Three months after my return, the imposter heiress disappeared.   My brother, Caleb Carter, accused me of jealousy, believing I had driven the fake heiress away. The disappointed look on my parents’ faces revealed their true thoughts.   I was confined in the basement, subjected to daily torture.   Even after my death, my family donated my brain to a research institution.   Later, I watched from heaven as my family broke down upon watching my memories.

When my appendix bursts, my parents, my brother, and even my fiancé are all too busy celebrating my sister's birthday. I'm outside the operating room, frantically calling every family member I can think of to sign the consent form, but every call is either ignored or hung up on. After hanging up on me, my fiancé, Joel Graham, texts back. "Sophie, stop being dramatic. It's Yvette's 18th birthday today. Whatever it is can wait until after the party." I quietly set my phone down and sign the consent form myself. It's the ninety-ninth time they've chosen Yvette Norton, my sister, over me. This time, I choose not to care. I'll stop letting their favoritism hurt me. Instead, I'll do everything they ask of me without complaint. They'll all think I've finally learned to be obedient, and they'll never realize that I'm preparing to leave them for good.

When my boyfriend came to my family home to ask for my hand in marriage, my sister-in-law, who was usually cold and aloof, became a completely different person. She flung her arm around me warmly and asked, “Cassie, who’s your favorite? This boyfriend or one of the dozen or so men that you’ve brought home before?” As I denied her accusation and interrupted her, she cheekily batted her eyelashes at my boyfriend and cooed, “Oh, yes, yes. Cassie has never brought another man home. You’re the lucky first!” In the midst of dinner, she deliberately took her own soiled underwear out of the bathroom, pinched her nose, and waved it around as she screeched, “Oh my goodness, Cassie! I know you don’t really care about hygiene, but we have guests today! How can you have no shame? It smells so bad!”