Trolls Table Cloth

On the day of Lucas' engagement, he managed to get a few lackeys to keep me occupied, and by the time I stepped out the police station, done with questioning, it was already dark outside. Arriving home, I stood there on the doorstep and eavesdropped on Lucas and his friends talking about me. "I was afraid she'd cause trouble, so I got her to spend the whole day at the police station. I made sure that everything would be set in stone by the time she got out." Shaking my head with a bitter laugh, I blocked all of Lucas' contacts and went overseas without any hesitation. That night, Lucas lost all his composure, kicking over a table and smashing a bottle of liquor, sending glass shards flying all over the floor. "She's just throwing a tantrum because she's jealous… She'll come back once she gets over it…" What he didn't realize, then, was that this wasn't just a fit of anger or a petty tantrum. This time, I truly didn't want him anymore.

On the first day of classes, my roommate gives me a crystal bracelet as a welcome gift. Without thinking, I quickly adorn it around her mother's wrist. In my past life, my roommate wanted to be a social butterfly. She was determined to have a hundred boyfriends by the time she graduated. But no matter how reckless she was, she never ended up conceiving. On the other hand, I kept getting pregnant and having countless miscarriages. But unlike her, I had never been in a relationship. The entire university mocked me, labeling me promiscuous and shameless. During my 66th miscarriage, I died on the operating table from severe bleeding. It was only after death that I realized the crystal bracelet my roommate gave me had somehow linked our wombs together. As soon as I opened my eyes, I realized I had gone back to the first day of the semester.

Dwyne, a self-supporting medical student, has just joined the hospital as the youngest intern. But she met with an unexpected situation on her first night shift alone--she’s targeted by a handsome man who looked very dangerous. Is he a gangster? Dwyne thought, judging him by his demeanor. He always wore a black suit and sunglasses. Sometimes even at night. And he's got a gunshot wound on his body. A gunshot! It terrified Dwyne.  She wanted nothing more to do with such a dangerous man, but it looked as if the man was haunting her. She began to meet him frequently. Or rather, he was literally everywhere！ The hospital where she works, the coffee shop where she has a part-time job, the bar where she helps out on a temporary basis... And it seemed like everyone knew him. Is he famous?  It's not just outside Dwyne met him everywhere. Her home was no longer a sanctuary for her alone either. The door to her apartment seemed to be a useless decoration to him. She sometimes finds a bouquet of flowers on the coffee table in her house, while a couple of times she's even found himself suddenly showing in her room. Yes, whenever he wanted to see her, he never made an appointment. It absolutely wasn't a funny joke or a pleasant surprise for her. Dwyne was tired of the boring banter, she just wanted to get through her internship and become a qualified doctor, but she was always surrounded by a gang of menacing men in black suits. Annoyed, she blurted out that she didn't have any feelings for him and she didn't want to see him anymore. She didn't expect that, her wish came true. For the next week, month, and then until a year, she never saw the man in her sights again. Her life went back to the way it was. Though, it was ever so slightly boring. Until that day... When they meet again, it's him lying bloody and dying in the operating room. Dwyne realized that she had never forgotten him. During the time she took care of him, she learned his name and got to know him a little more. Geez, it turned out that he's not only a gangster, but a formidable Mafia Boss! However, when Dwyne moved to this town three years ago, she also hid her true identity. This, after all, is not a life that belongs to her...

Madam Pratt, my mother-in-law, was in critical condition after a car accident, desperately needing surgery. However, as the lead surgeon, I—Lilianne Davis—stood by, casually scrolling through short videos on my phone. My best friend, Tiffany Owens, who was also a doctor, was far more anxious than I was. She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the operating room. “Lily, why are you still stalling? Hurry up and save her!” I took a step back, clutching my stomach in pain as her face twisted in shock. “I have cramps so bad I can’t even stand. You do it.” In my last life, the moment I heard about Madam Pratt’s accident, I had swallowed a painkiller and rushed into surgery, working for hours to stabilize her. I had barely stepped away from the operating table when alarms blared. “Lilianne, what have you done? The patient is experiencing acute hemolysis!” “Call the family now!” Gareth Pratt stormed in, his face twisted with rage. He slapped me hard in the face. “Lil, you’re a professional surgeon, yet you gave my mother the wrong blood transfusion?!” I froze, reaching for Madam Pratt’s medical report to explain, only to find that the A-type blood I had seen before had somehow changed to B-type. The medical board arrived, and a blood test revealed traces of hallucinogens in my system. “Unbelievable! Taking illegal substances before surgery? That’s a cardinal sin for a doctor!” In the chaos, Emma Pratt, Gareth’s teenage sister, grabbed a scalpel and stabbed me multiple times. Blood gushed from my arteries, and I collapsed in a pool of crimson. As my vision faded, I couldn’t understand what had happened. I had never taken illegal drugs. Besides, I was absolutely certain of Madam Pratt’s blood type. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the moment right before stepping into the operating room.

I was the stand-in who looked most like my husband's first love. He put me through countless plastic surgeries, both major and minor ones, until I became her exact likeness. But then, she came back from the dead. All it took was her saying, "I don't like anyone looking like me," and he sent me right back to the operating table once more. I begged him, telling him that my body couldn't handle it anymore. Alas, he only looked at me with irritation. "Seeing that cheap imitation of her face just disgusts me," he sneered. "No matter how close you come, you'll never be her." In the end, I died on that operating table. Yet, he went mad, trying desperately to recall what I once looked like.

My family was the wealthiest in River City, with assets worth trillions. On my eighteenth birthday, my brother, Calvin Chester, gifted me an entire jewelry production line while my parents built a private museum and named it after me. The greatest hardship I’d ever faced? Learning how to spend my inheritance. Then I met Dario Darwin. For him, I cut ties with my family and helped him build his empire from scratch. But when I was three months pregnant, he demanded I drink on behalf of his assistant, Fran Fallon, a woman “slumming it” as an intern while secretly being the heiress to another fortune. “Stop pretending,” he sneered. “You’re not like Fran, raised in pampered luxury. You’re older, so act like it and take care of your juniors!” Then, to the clients leering around the table, “My wife’s just being dramatic. She can hold her liquor. Don’t hold back—pour her another!” Amid their jeers, he left with Fran, abandoning me to a room of drunken men. Years of sacrifice, only to be humiliated. I scheduled an abortion and called him. “We’re done.” Through the phone, Fran’s simpering voice chimed in, “It’s my fault that Clea is upset… I should quit and go home to my family’s billions.” “Ignore her. She’s faking it,” Dario cooed back. On the day Dario signed the divorce papers, my parents and Calvin came to take me home. Our marriage came to an end, but his tragedy was about to begin.

Ten years to the day we were mated, Eric came home wearing the scent of his first love. He wrapped me in his scorching heat, his voice a hoarse whisper against my ear. "I want you, Lyra." He hadn't marked me on a full moon in so long. But right now, the scent of another she-wolf on him was a bitter ache in my chest. The dinner I'd prepared for our full moon ritual was swept off the table by our cub, River. He looked at me with his father’s cold expression. "Mom, your cooking doesn’t even come close to Auntie Aurora’s." Aurora. The first love Eric could never forget. The one he'd brazenly appointed as CFO of our pack's corporation. They were the perfect pair, flaunting their connection for all to see. And I, his true mate, had become the pack's laughingstock. For ten years, I played the part of the perfect mate and mother, only to become a shadow in my own home. That night, I filed the request to the Elders. I would sever the mate bond。 Later, under the brilliant Alaskan aurora, I received Eric's frantic mind link. "Lyra, what about River if you leave?" I let out a small laugh. " River only needs you." "Your first love is back, isn't she? Let her be the mother. I'm free."

a story about a millionaire daughter being stolen from birth born into wealth raised in struggle now the truth is raising and so she is coming for everything that was taken

Kiara Retania, or Kia, has just had her heart broken. The man she loves is about to marry—but not her. She was merely the mistress of Alex Guntoro, her boss, who is set to wed the woman chosen by his parents, leaving Kia behind without a second thought. To mend her broken heart, Kia decides to go to a club and pick a man to spend the night with. In a reckless game, she spins a bottle on the table, intending to let fate choose her companion. But to her surprise, the bottle points directly at a charming and handsome bartender. But... is he really just a bartender? Or is he a man determined to make Alex pay for the pain he caused Kia—and to claim Kia, both her heart and body, for himself?

I confirmed Vincent Lowe was cheating on me on the day of our third wedding anniversary. The dining table was filled with dishes, yet he barely touched his fork before heading out the door. "Where are you going?" I asked. His answer was unnervingly straightforward. "A friend's treating me to dinner. Cassidy Mason—you know her, right? It's a free meal. It'd be a waste not to accept." An hour later, however, I received a voice message from Cassidy. In the message, Vincent's voice was lighter and livelier—so different from how he ever sounded with me. "They say you should marry someone you can truly enjoy a meal with. I really regret meeting you so late. If only I had known you earlier, I would've married you instead." I listened in silence. Then, alone at the table, I finished every last bite of the meal I had prepared. Afterward, I left a divorce agreement behind.