Vegeta Family Crest

After graduating from a socialite training course, my sister swears to marry into a wealthy family. To create encounters with Pierce Holden, the prince of the upper crust, she drives my car, wanting to tailgate him and run into his car. I slam the brakes and tell her the Holdens aren't fools. We can't afford to pay for Pierce's car, even if we were to give up everything we have. Later, Pierce throws a lavish wedding that stuns the country. My sister goes crazy with jealousy, saying that she would've been the bride if not for me stopping her back then. Out of resentment, she rams her car into me and kills me. When I open my eyes again, I find myself in the front passenger seat. My sister smirks confidently, her gaze fixed on the expensive car ahead of us. "I'm sure Pierce will be enchanted by me once he sees me. I won't need to drive a dump like this once I get together with him." This time, I don't stop her. She puts the pedal to the metal, making the car crash against the sports car worth a fortune.

Trapped in a sweltering 40-degree sauna room, I overheard my older brothers talking outside. My second-oldest brother, Sean Lambert, remarked, "This kid is too stubborn. We need to teach her a lesson." My third-oldest brother, Jacob Lambert, replied, "The temperature has been adjusted. She won't die." I was locked up alone for 72 hours. It was their way of punishing me because of my stepsister. Yet, they were the ones who used to love me the most. My father was a business tycoon, my eldest brother, Axel Lambert, was skilled in finance, Sean was a legal expert, and Jacob was a medical prodigy. My mother passed away after fulfilling her mission, leaving these four men to look after me. They once showered me with love like I was their precious gem, until I turned five. That's when my stepmother and her daughter came into the picture, and I was banished to the housekeeper's room. Their attention shifted entirely to my stepsister. Whenever she cried, my father would bring out the punishment box for me to draw lots. 72 hours passed, but no one came to open the door. Before I blacked out, a few lines of small text popped up before my eyes: [The minor character is about to die. Once she dies, she can be reunited with her mother.]

My brother Raymond hated me for seven years. After a bitter fight on a freezing winter night, I stormed out and drove away. I never expected a blizzard to fall so suddenly. It blinded my vision. I was attacked by a rogue, injected with a poison that could erase memories and sever blood bonds. My memories became fragmented. When I woke up in the pack’s infirmary, Raymond stood there with a cold expression and casually pointed at a gravely ill male werewolf lying in bed. “He’s your brother. Stop bothering me.” I was stunned. The male werewolf pushed himself up and took my freezing hand, his eyes gentle.
“Come on. I’ll take you home.” After that, I no longer saw Raymond as my brother—just as he wished. So why was he suddenly begging for my acknowledgement after casting me aside so eagerly?

My son accidentally burns my husband's first love's hand. My husband cruelly breaks my son's hand to teach him a lesson. He's in so much pain that he can't see straight and falls into a lake. Blood dyes the water red. I hold him close as I sob and call my husband, pleading for help. My husband doesn't care, though. "It's just a broken hand—he'll be fine once it's set in a cast. He'll only do worse things in the future if he's not taught a lesson now!" Later, my son drowns in the lake because he's not rescued in time. My husband loses his mind when he sees his body. "How could he have died when he only had a broken hand?"

My husband, Gabriel Buckner, and I had been married for three years. I'd gotten pregnant twice, but I'd lost both babies. It was all because of my in-laws' parrot that could talk. The first time I got pregnant and went to their house, the parrot stared at my belly and kept repeating, "Get rid of the baby! Get rid of the baby!" The second time, the same thing happened. It looked right at my stomach and said the same words. I thought it was just nonsense, but to my shock, my in-laws actually took the parrot seriously and forced me to end the pregnancy. I even showed them the prenatal checkup report from my doctor to prove that the baby was perfectly healthy and begged them not to do it. But they dragged me to the hospital anyway and made me have an abortion on the spot. When I got pregnant a third time, I wanted to be extra cautious. I went straight for an amniocentesis. The report confirmed the baby was healthy and even showed a 99.9% DNA match with Gabriel's. I thought everything would be fine this time. But as soon as the parrot saw me again, it repeated the same words—"Get rid of the baby." And just like before, the Buckners immediately tried to drag me to the hospital. I couldn't understand it. The baby was perfectly healthy, and the DNA report proved it was Gabriel's child. So why would they rather believe a parrot and insist that I get rid of the baby?

My parents adopted a kid, and I treated him like treasure. Then he started looking uncannily like my husband, Brian. And I caught him whispering "Mom" to my sister, Ruby. Yeah. Plot twist: Brian had been cheating on me the whole time. With Ruby. They played house behind my back, smiling for family pics—with my parents' blessing. When the truth blew up, Ruby had the audacity to beg me to step aside. My parents told me to get over it. And that kid I loved like my own? Told me I deserved to die. But here's the kicker—Brian wouldn't even sign the divorce. Dude broke down, said he still loved me, swore the kid was a mistake. So I smiled and said, "Cool. You've got seven days. Prove it, and I'll forgive you." He went full simp mode. Emptied his bank account, treated me like I was gold. Even kicked Ruby down and yelled at her to apologize. Everyone thought I'd cave. Then the cops called, asked him to ID a body—and Brian totally lost it. He never knew I'd been dead this whole time. The Reaper gave me one last week to say goodbye.

After my parents died, the family went bankrupt, leaving my brother and me with a large sum of debt. To pay it off, he became a haunted-house test sleeper, while I acted as a corpse on film sets. For five years, we worked tirelessly, not daring to rest a single day—and still, the debt wasn't cleared. By the end of the year, only 13 thousand dollars remained. Gritting my teeth, I signed up as a clinical trial volunteer. When it was over, I dragged 13 thousand dollars in cash, brimming with joy, to show my brother. But I found him frowning, on the phone. "Dad, Mom, Lily's doing well. Have fun abroad," he said. "She's stopped spending recklessly. The punishment ends next year." What? Our parents weren't dead? Our family wasn't bankrupt? The five years of hardship, every ounce of struggle—I'd endured it all as punishment for my love of spending. My smile froze on my face. My stomach churned violently. A mouthful of fresh blood spilled out.

When my family was at its poorest, a wealthy family found me and claimed that I was their real daughter. The school heartthrob I crushed on? He was my fiancé all along! Still reeling from all these surprises, a mysterious message suddenly popped up in front of me. "This is where everything changes. The cannon fodder is taken home by the female lead's parents, forced to drop out of school, and then gets pregnant by her fiancé. In the end, everyone thinks she's a harbringer of misfortune, and she's beaten to death." My hand froze as I held the paternity test results. My mom's eyes filled with tears as she took the report from me. "My poor child, you've suffered enough all these years! Don't worry. Just come home with us and rest. You're our daughter now. The family business is enough for you to live comfortably forever. You don't even need to take the SAT if you don't want to." The school heartthrob lowered his head and whispered sensually into my ear, "Listen to me, Lucia. Studying is hard. I'll take care of you from now on."

My mother-in-law competed with me over everything. When she found out I was trying to get pregnant, she went as far as to use a folk remedy to get pregnant as well. It was a molar pregnancy, but she still flaunted it in front of me. I told her that it was a medical condition that needed immediate treatment or it could develop into a tumor and endanger her life. Nonetheless, she insisted that she was carrying a few gorgeous babies. I convinced my family to forcefully take her to the hospital, but my mother-in-law never forgave me. She pushed me off a balcony out of hatred, killing me. When I opened my eyes again, I found out I had been reborn on the day she first announced her pregnancy.

I need to drive to and from work due to a change in my job scope. However, my father-in-law hoards my car and refuses to return it. My husband stands up for him. "How can you be so materialistic? So what if you have to take an electric scooter to work?" So, I sell the car. My husband points at me and snaps, "What right do you have to sell Dad's car?" I look at him calmly. "I've sold the one you drive too."