Ubuyashiki Family

I was the top engineer at the National Deep-Sea Institute—and the only person in the world with real deep-sea rescue experience. When my younger brother's submarine went down and he called for help from 30,000 feet below, I hung up on him. Then, calm and unhurried, I went straight to the police station and turned myself in for leaking classified research data. A few minutes later, my father called, furious. "Your brother's life is hanging by a thread—where the hell are you?! I demand you to get to the site and save him right now, or you won't see a single penny of the family fortune!" I pulled the blanket over myself and said into the phone, perfectly composed, "Busy. Don't bother me—I'm trying to sleep."

My younger brother had stage four kidney cancer. Our parents demanded that I donate a kidney to save him. I told them I only had one kidney left. The transplant would kill me. Instead of listening to me, they forcibly strapped me to the operating table. “It’s just one kidney! Stop being so selfish!” they yelled. They did not care that I was telling the truth. Years ago, I had given my other kidney to save my father after his car crash.

A video proving that Zachary Groff, the fake scion, has set me up is exposed. Following that, my parents and fiancee, Leta Quinlan, stand firmly by me, offering me love and support. I hand the evidence to them, giving them full trust and authority to handle the matter. They tell me that Zachary died in a car accident after being chased out of the house, and I choose to believe them. But then, in the fifth year of my marriage, I have an unexpected encounter with Zachary, who should have already been dead. He is carrying a young girl in his arms while holding tightly onto Leta's hand. He says, "Leta, if not for you and my parents, I probably would have been locked up by Harvey Groff, that heartless man. "Thankfully, Mom and Dad destroyed the evidence and even opened a jewelry design studio for me. You even sacrificed your own marriage so that he doesn't suspect a thing. "Thank you for everything you've done these five years!" "Let's just say that I am making amends to Harvey on your behalf. I'm just glad that you and our daughter are happy and well." It turns out that the happy family, which I thought I had, is just a massive web of lies spun by my parents and Leta. My parents, my wife, and Zachary are the ones actually living happily as a family, while I am just a fool who spent the last five years being deceived. I no longer want to have love—whether familial or romantic—that is not solely mine.

The doctor said I only had three days left to live. Acute liver failure. My only hope was an experimental clinical trial. It was extremely risky, but had the faintest sliver of a chance to survive. But my husband, David, gave the last available spot... to my adopted sister, Emma, also my daughter’s godmother. Her condition was still in its early stages. He said it was the "right decision," because she “deserved to live more.” I signed the papers to forgo treatment and took the high-dose painkillers prescribed by the doctor. The cost? My organs would shut down, and I would die. When I handed over the jewelry company I’d poured my heart into, along with all my designs, to Emma, my parents praised me, saying, “Now that’s what a good big sister should do.” When I agreed to divorce David so he could marry Emma, he said, “You’ve finally learned to be understanding.” When I told my daughter to call Emma ‘Mom,’ she clapped her hands and said, “Emma is such a gentle and kind mother!” When I gave all my assets to Emma, everyone in the family thought it was only natural. No one noticed anything was wrong with me. I’m just curious. Will they still be able to smile when they find out I'm dead?

My brother Mitchell sided with his dream girl when she accused me of bullying her. Despite being the only family member I had left, he exploded in anger and sent me away to a boarding school for so-called reformation to learn how to become a meek and obedient little sister. In time, I became exactly what he wanted—a docile sibling who never fought back, never argued. But everything changed the day he saw my medical report. He lost his mind. "Nora, I'm begging you—forgive me and let me be your brother again!"

My sister-in-law, Cynthia Ziegler, has my name written on her cancer diagnosis report. As such, the entire Ziegler family assumes that I'm the one with cancer. Overnight, my husband, Leonard Ziegler, sends a text message to his mistress, Irene Ludlow. "Our time will soon come! That old bat is about to die at last, so I'll finally be able to marry you!" My grandmother, Amanda Powell, cries and clings onto my hand, begging me not to seek treatment. She is not only discussing with Leonard on how best to split my insurance money after my death but also employing various methods to hasten my death. However, they are all unaware that Cynthia used my medical insurance card when she went for her physical examination. I feign sadness and nod with tears in my eyes. "I won't seek treatment, Mom. Let's not seek treatment no matter who is diagnosed with cancer."

Drugs disappeared during one of our family’s deals—and everyone knew it was my stepsister, Emily’s fault. Now, our rivals demanded someone be sent to them, held captive until the debt was repaid. My fiancé, my family—they all agreed it should be me. “Emily already got hurt in the mission. You are stronger. You can handle it while we figure things out.” I knew this moment was coming. And so I signed my name. In five days, I’d be sent away. And I have decided that no matter what happened—whether I lived or died—I was done with my family and my fiancé. In those last days, I gave everything I owned away. The casino? To my stepsister, who had always eyed it with envy. My checking account? To my father, who never missed a chance to remind me how useless I was. The engagement ring? Back to the man who’d been fake as hell. They didn’t notice anything off. They just smiled, pleased with how thoughtful I’d suddenly become. When they realized I was gone for good—and that their fragile Emily was their undoing—would they still smile like that? Would they still look so content?

To save my family, I was dying of silver poisoning, my fiancé Marcus, the Alpha who had promised to never abandon me, now wanted to harvest my healthy kidney for my parents' adopted daughter, Celeste. Nobody cares if I live or die So I refused the conservative treatment plan. I injected myself with the witch's life potion. The price? In 72 hours, I would die from complete organ failure. In those three days, I gave my private healing center—the one I'd built with my own hands—to Celeste. Mom and Dad beamed with joy. "Good girl, you've finally grown up. You're taking care of your sister now." Marcus wanted to postpone our wedding to care for Celeste. I accepted it calmly. He praised me for finally being understanding. I even gave up my position as the pack's chief healer to Celeste. My parents and Marcus were so excited they planned to throw her a grand celebration ball. They invited every important person with status in the pack to honor her new role. I was just curious about one thing. After I died, would they shed a single tear for me?

The night before returning to the Cantrell residence, I had a dream where I was the despised antagonist in a book. In the story, my father had adopted a girl who bore an uncanny resemblance to my late mother. On the day he came to pick me up, he got into a devastating car accident. After that, my second brother, Shawn Cantrell, lashed out, calling me a curse, while my eldest brother, Seth Cantrell, treated me with cold indifference. In the end, I was abandoned by everyone, meeting a tragic and lonely end.

My fiancé fell in love with a mute woman who saved his life and wanted to break off our engagement. I kindly advised her, “The Harlow family isn’t easy to be part of. You might want to reconsider.” The mute woman, feeling insulted, took poison and ended her life. Ten years later, Victor Harlow, after taking full control of the family conglomerate, did one thing: destroyed the Grant family and came for my life. “This is the debt you owe Yvonne.” When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to my 23rd birthday banquet. The patriarch, William Harlow, asked me what I wished for. “Since Victor and Yvonne are deeply in love, please let this 'perfect couple' be together.”