Wwe Samoan Family Tree

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.

While I was traveling overseas with my family, a sudden flood hit. My fiancé slung my sister Joan over his back because her legs were weak, and ran for safety. My parents didn't have time for me, but they still remembered to grab the parrot they had just bought for Joan. All of them flew home overnight and even posted in the family group chat about how lucky everyone was to survive. But… They forgot something. I was still trapped in the flood, alone and helpless. When I woke up, I called my mentor without hesitation. "Dr. Jackson, I've decided to go with you and join Doctors Without Borders. I'm never coming back."

The day my family went bankrupt, my fiancée left me and married her first love. I didn't argue or make a scene. Instead, I married Sharon Tomlinson, the woman who had confessed to me when I was at my lowest. After we got married, I took care of Sharon for seven full years while she was paralyzed from the waist down. The day she finally stood up again, I accidentally overheard her speaking Aurelian with her best friend at the dinner table. "Sharon, are you really planning to spend your whole life with him? Aren't you worried you'd hurt your brother's feelings?" Sharon peeled a shrimp for our daughter, Tasha Holden, and answered unhurriedly, "What are you talking about? I know how to deal with them both. I could never bear to make Curtis sad." "Same for me. I like Uncle Curtis. He's handsome, while my dad's an ugly freak," Tasha chimed in beside them, also in Aurelian. They didn't know I spoke the language. Fine. I was sick of Sharon's undercooked pasta, anyway. I would never eat it again for the rest of my life!

As my murderer's claws tear into my abdomen inch by inch, my father and brother are seated in our family's banquet hall. They're celebrating Carly's 18th birthday and coming-of-age. "You'll always be my little girl." "Happy birthday, Carly." They light 18 pink candles for her. On top of the exquisite red velvet cake is a wolf figurine that they carved for her, and there are well wishes and laughter all around. Meanwhile, I'm curled up in a sewer filled with liquid silver as I bleed to death. My phone has been crushed, and I can't get out. I can only cry for help. A few days later, my father and brother show up together at the autopsy room. My brother stands by the operating table with a scalpel. He slices open the body and sews it back up like it's nothing. My father just covers his nose as he shoots a disgusted glance at my body. He urges my brother to hurry up with the autopsy report. "The victim is a young female wolf presumed to be of pure lineage. Before her death, she was subjected to prolonged captivity and torture. Her throat is nearly severed, her cervical spine is dislocated, and her chest cavity has collapsed. She was also injected with liquid silver before death." Hearing the report, my father looks so calm that it's just like a case study of no consequence. Neither of them can recognize that the body belongs to me—their daughter and sister!

After my parents passed away, Uncle Mike took me in. When greedy relatives tried to snatch away my inheritance, he chased them off with a kitchen knife. “As long as I’m here, nobody lays a finger on this girl!” Aunt Rachel doted on me, calling me her precious baby and making me nutritious meals every day. My cousin Pete secretly slipped me pocket money and made sure to pick me up and drop me off at school, afraid I might get bullied. The neighbors all said I was lucky and to repay their kindness someday. On graduation day, I cooked them a lavish meal to show my appreciation. Every dish was laced with rat poison. I didn’t spare a single soul, not even the neighbors. I killed them all!

Caked in mud, her eyes bloodshot, my mother grabbed me by the shoulders. "Elliot, the company's collapsed. I… I killed a competitor. It was an accident. There's no way out now. You're the only one who can come with me." I believed her. I swallowed my fear and followed her into the mountains, deeper and deeper until there was nothing left of the world I knew. To keep her alive, I searched for food, forcing down insects, drinking whatever murky water I could find. When a pack of wolves began circling our shelter, my first instinct was to step in front of her. "Mom, I'll lead them away. You go." I glanced back at her one last time…and made my choice. I would give up my life for hers. However, when I leapt from the cliff and my body shattered against the rocks below… I still saw her. She was inside a descending helicopter, calm and composed, lifting a glass of champagne. Celebrating. That was when it finally clicked. The desperate escape that had driven me to sacrifice myself… was nothing more than a carefully staged show. She had been acting the entire time. I…was the only one who had actually died.

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 35,000 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."

The day I found out I was a match for my dad—stage four leukemia—I bailed. Mom tore the world apart looking for me, but yeah, she had to watch him go. After that, she drowned herself in research, built a name, even adopted this perfect little angel. We crossed paths again at some fancy leukemia conference she was hosting. I was on the demo table. She took one look and scoffed. "Charlotte Stein, not the time for your crap. Get up and go." The host blinked, stunned. "Dr. Cooper... you know this cadaver?" She actually laughed. "What, she paid you for this stunt?" The host turned ghost-white. "M-Miss Stein passed three days ago..."

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?