Wwe Samoan Family Tree

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.

"I will be your mistress, Adrian. Just let my family live." Adrian lifted his glass of wine. A faint smile curved his lips. "I thought they would send me the adopted daughter," he said, "I didn't expect you." "Everyone said your brother spoiled you like a princess. Turns out that was just a joke." The tip of the pen paused, stabbing a small blot of ink onto the paper. I signed my name, calm to the point of silence. The contract would take effect in three days. Then, I would cut all ties with the Willis name. I traded myself for the survival of the Willis family and my own permanent release.

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?

I stopped fighting. The moment I came back, I stepped out of the family spotlight on purpose— no arguments, no expectations, no awkward “let’s bond” moments. And somehow… that’s when my parents lost their minds. They made my little sister the heir? I congratulated them and filed my transfer to the Vegas branch the same afternoon. They threw her a massive coming-of-age gala? I smiled, booked a flight, and left before the invitations were printed. They bought her a limited-edition luxury car? I claimed my “old wrist injury” made driving impossible and insisted she take it. I thought they’d be relieved. I thought they’d finally get their perfect family without me messing up the picture. But instead—my cold, distant parents started calling nonstop. Showing up at my door. Pleading with me to come home. Asking what they did wrong. Why now? Why only when I stopped trying? Because in my last life, I spent decades clawing for their love— only to die bitter, resented, and humiliated. Even my grown son told me I was embarrassing. This time, I came back different. I refused to fight for a place in their world again. I refused to compete with my sister. I refused to beg. But the moment I stepped away… the entire family empire began to crack. And now they’re terrified. Not because I left— but because they finally realized what they lost.

I was a washed-up singer, but my wife forced me to attend a divorce variety show. I tried my best to earn money for the family, but on the show, she said that I was worthless. She even got to know the son of an affluent family. She called the guy babe and went to his room whilst wearing seductive clothes. I couldn't stand it anymore and tried to stop her, but she cursed, "You're just a useless piece of garbage! You can't even afford to buy me a decent bag. I thought your earnings would improve over the years, but your earnings are still nowhere near enough. Why can't I pursue the happiness I want? Get out of my sight!"

In my past life, I toiled away at the Lincoln family and treated my in-laws like they were a king and a queen. I also gave my stepson the best education possible and helped him get into a renowned college. Yet, I later ended up dead on the street. My stepson said, "You're not my mother. You'll never be her!" He breaks my legs, kicks me out of the house, and watches as I starve to death. It's only after my death that I find out he's the illegitimate son of my husband and his true love! When I open my eyes again, I'm back to the day my husband, Simon Lincoln, brings my stepson home.

Justin Davidson and Eva Walker, the long-lost heiress of the Walker family, fell in love. But Eva's adopted sister, Stella, drove a wedge between them. Even after Stella’s death, Justin couldn’t let go of her. He trampled Eva’s dignity, hurt her body, and forced her to wear Stella’s wedding dress and ring when he proposed. Eva’s parents only had eyes for Stella, too. To pressure Eva further, Justin even went so far as to hurt Eva's grandmother, the one who had raised her. On the day of the wedding rehearsal, Eva finally decided to walk away. However, when the truth came out, Justin dropped to his knees and begged her not to leave.

I finally recovered my sight. Just as I was about to tell my parents about it, a slip of paper on the table caught my attention. "Don't tell your parents you've recovered your sight."

My father's adopted daughter was only locked in the cramped storage closet for around fifteen minutes, yet he punished me by tying me up and throwing me inside. He even sealed off the ventilation with towels. "As Wendy's older sister, if you can't take care of her, then you should also experience how scared she was," he declared coldly. He knew I was claustrophobic, but my desperate pleas for mercy, my terror, were met with nothing but heartless reprimands. "Let this be a lesson on how to be a good sister." As the last sliver of light disappeared, swallowed by the oppressive darkness, I struggled helplessly. A week passed before my father finally remembered my existence and decided it was time to end my punishment. "Let's hope this week served as a good lesson for you, Jennifer. If this happens again, you will no longer be allowed in this house." He would never know that I had already taken my last breath in that suffocating room. My body had begun to rot in the darkness.

The moment I was born, I took her life. They called me a murderer. Marcus used to burn me with cigarette butts, and Dad would say it was my fate. “You’re a curse. If you had any conscience, you’d have gone to join Mom a long time ago to repay what you owe.” When Marcus was diagnosed with kidney failure, that same cold, distant father knelt in front of me. “Please… save him…” I put my hand on Dad’s shoulder. “Dad, I’ll do the surgery. But can you promise me one thing?” Dad performed the surgery himself. It was a success. He saved the son he loved most and took the life of the daughter he hated. But after I died, Dad turned himself in to the police, and Marcus lost his mind.