Cong Jin

My son Leo was in the hospital, his small body covered in bruises after a school bully left him for dead. But I soon discovered the horrifying truth. My husband, Calvin, a powerful prosecutor, wasn't just ignoring our son's pain-he was actively protecting the bully's mother, his old flame, Bethany. He used his power to systematically destroy me. He got me fired from my job and had my lawyer drop our case. He planted a fake video online that painted my injured son as a violent aggressor, turning our community into a hateful mob that screamed at us on the street. In a courtroom packed with jeering strangers, with Calvin himself presiding over my public humiliation, he thought he had me broken. He had sacrificed his own family to protect his mistress and their secrets. But as he prepared to deliver the final verdict, I rose to my feet, my voice cutting through the silence. "Your Honor," I said, looking him dead in the eye. "I want to replace the defendant in this case."

I worked three jobs to support my paralyzed husband, Gavin, and our developmentally delayed son, Leo. Life was a relentless grind, but I held our shattered family together, even taking in Gavin's infertile, widowed sister, Celeste. Then, one day, I collapsed from exhaustion at a construction site. My son, Leo, ran to get help, only to be mauled to death by a pack of stray dogs. At a charity gala weeks later, Celeste, wearing a necklace Gavin once gave me, cornered me. She mocked Leo's death, then brutally kicked me in the stomach, causing internal bleeding that led to an emergency hysterectomy. I could never have children again. Gavin, however, believed Celeste's lies that I had attacked her. He threw a razor at my head, called me a monster, and left me bleeding on the floor. When I tried to leave our apartment with Leo's ashes, Gavin and Celeste accused me of cheating. In the struggle, they shattered the urn, scattering my son's remains across the floor. Gavin kicked the ashes, calling them "trash." But hidden inside Leo's teddy bear, I found a voice recorder. On it was a recording of Gavin and Celeste, their voices clear and strong. They had faked his paralysis, stolen his company's assets, and Celeste had even wished for Leo to be gone. The betrayal was so immense, I collapsed, coughing up blood, as my world went dark one last time.

My eight-year marriage to tech mogul James Slater was a secret, a perfect facade of love and devotion. I was a celebrity chef, he was the doting husband, but it was all a beautiful lie. On our eighth anniversary, James showed me a video: my younger brother, Kelley, tied to a chair, humiliated, being tortured by an "artist" named Kirsten Casey. James called it "performance art," a twisted display of his new muse's "vision." He dismissed my horror, his staff echoing his words, claiming I "wouldn't understand." He gave me an ultimatum: prove Kirsten's illegality or publicly apologize for slandering her. When I pleaded for Kelley, he offered a million dollars for therapy, his voice flat and final. He said Kirsten was "important" and I wouldn't stand in her way. The truth was a physical blow. James was Kirsten's patron, her lover, her legal shield. He was using his immense power to protect her cruelty. I was trapped, isolated, my home a cage. "You're her lawyer? You're helping her do this?" I choked out, my voice raw. He just looked at me, his eyes devoid of love, and said, "Hannah, don't make this difficult." I signed the papers, desperate to protect Kelley. But it was too late. Kelley jumped. At the hospital, James, the primary benefactor, ordered them not to "waste resources." My brother died. My baby, too, lost in the horror. I was shattered, blaming myself for trusting him.

Five years ago, I voluntarily gave my kidney to save my daughter, Lily, believing it was a sacrifice born of a father' s love. What I received in return was a meticulously orchestrated public humiliation: forced to wear women' s clothing and clown makeup, starring in a viral video that branded me a pervert and destroyed my career and reputation overnight. My wife, Sophia, and Lily stood by me, their unwavering support the thin thread I clung to, believing their love was real, even as I lived as a social pariah. But that belief shattered when I overheard Lily and Sophia confessing to their monstrous deception: Lily's illness was a lie, Sophia's "kidnapping" was a sham, and my kidney was meant for my bitter step-brother, Daniel, all part of a calculated plot to ruin me and seize control of my family's firm. My life was a cruel, elaborate stage play, and I, the fool, had been their unwitting star, leaving me with nothing but the chilling realization that my sacrifice was a mark of betrayal. I lay in a hospital bed, barely conscious after collapsing from their latest act of public shaming, as Sophia and Daniel plotted to commit me, solidifying their control over my life and what little savings I had left. The man they thought they' d broken was gone, replaced by a cold, calculating resolve. I would play their game, let them believe their victory was complete, and then I would disappear. This was not an escape, but a strategic retreat. For the first time in five years, I knew exactly what I had to do, and my vengeance would be meticulously planned, far from their reach.

The air in the conference room was thick with failure, but I' d checked the system a dozen times-someone had tampered with it. Then, Sarah, my wife and CEO, her eyes like polished stones, fired me in front of the entire board. She handed my team, my department, my life' s work, over to Mark, her sniveling assistant who I just realized had sabotaged me. "You' re fired," she stated, her voice devoid of emotion, as if our years, our dreams, meant nothing. The humiliation was a physical weight, heavier than the knowledge that this woman, my partner, had just betrayed everything we built. As she put a comforting hand on Mark' s shoulder, a cold calm settled over me. She wanted my life' s work? The patented algorithm that powered her entire company? "Fine," I said, before initiating a full data wipe of every personal file on the company servers. I left, not with the car she' d called for me, but with one my brother had arranged. Now, my lawyer says her company is running on stolen tech. My brother, David, is the lead investor she didn' t even know about, and he' s not happy. Sarah' s company, built on my genius, is a house of cards. And I' m about to watch it fall.

My boyfriend, Ethan, was sweet, naive, and an intern at my architecture firm. I, a junior architect buried in student debt, thought we were a team, struggling side-by-side in our expensive Soho loft, building a life together. Then, I found out our whole life was a lie. He wasn't a struggling intern; he was Ethan Lester, heir to a real estate empire, my landlord, and the son of my firm's biggest client. My colleagues, my bosses-they all knew he was playing house. They watched me mentor him, pay for his things, and fix his mistakes, treating my entire ambition and struggle as office entertainment. My heart pounded with nausea, but the real punch came when I realized he'd actively sabotaged my promotions to keep me by his side. How could the man I loved deliberately hold my career hostage, turning my trust into a cruel joke? My vision blurred with icy resolve. I picked up the phone. "Mr. Harrison," I said, my voice steady, "I quit." This was no longer a game; this was war, and I was just getting started.

My life was perfectly aligned: a positive pregnancy test, a dream wedding in Napa Valley to my fiancé, Andrew, the man I' d loved for seven years. I snapped a photo of those two pink lines, my heart overflowing. This was our future. But then, stepping into the vineyard, I overheard Andrew confessing a shocking secret: he' d married someone else, his deceased brother' s pregnant girlfriend, Maria, just yesterday. His family insisted, it was for a "Scott heir." My perfect world shattered, the joy in my chest freezing into a lead weight. My pregnancy, once a beacon of hope, now felt like a burden. In a cold, clear haze, I deleted the photo, deleted our shared future, and scheduled an impossible appointment. The lies kept piling up: Maria showing up at our menu tasting, him escorting her past me at the clinic, her Instagram announcement of "Daddy and I can't wait." His entire family celebrated a new "Scott heir," clearly complicit in his deception. How could he think I wouldn't find out? How could he believe he could have his cake and eat it too, building a life with me on a foundation of such cruel lies? He underestimated me, utterly unaware of the chilling clarity that now filled me, or what I was truly capable of. I gave a performance worthy of an Oscar, then began to systematically dismantle his carefully constructed deception, starting by packing up every single thing he owned. My wedding day became the day his life would truly end, and mine would finally begin.

The little stick showed two pink lines. Pregnant. A wave of dizziness hit me, but not from joy. The world dissolved, morphing into a sterile hospital room where a horrifying scene played out before my eyes. There stood Ethan, my husband, strangely distant, beside Victoria, my beautiful, golden half-sister. "It's done," Victoria purred, her voice like chilled honey. "She's gone. And the child." Then her chilling whisper: the "wellness supplements" she' d insisted on were poison, designed to destroy my pregnancy, ending in a fall, screaming, and blood. I gasped awake, clutching my stomach back in my own sunlit bathroom, the positive test still on the counter. It wasn't a nightmare; it was a terrifyingly real warning-my own husband and sister, conspiring to murder me and my unborn child, the chilling premonition of their betrayal. This wasn't just a day; it was the day it all began, but this time, I would rewrite the ending. They wouldn't take my child. They wouldn't kill me. A hard, steel resolve formed in my chest: I would protect my baby. And I would make them pay. Every. Single. One. Of. Them.

My daughter, Jessie, just 22, put down her phone at dinner and dropped a bomb: "I want all my rent money back. Plus interest." I sat there, stunned. But then, above her head, words pulsed in a glowing rectangle only I could see: *"It’s time. Your boomer parents are exploiting you! Demand financial freedom!”* That night was the start of a nightmare. The pop-ups raged, screaming about my 'theft' and Jessie's 'emotional labor,' twisting her into a demanding, entitled stranger. She threatened court, stole family heirlooms to sell them online, and manipulated her soft-hearted father, David, into handing her cash for 'self-improvement courses' that never existed. He, bless his naive heart, just wanted peace, even as Jessie shredded our family unit. I watched, helpless, as she descended into a greed I barely recognized, fueled by those insidious voices. Was this truly my daughter, or was some digital entity puppeteering her every cruel demand? Why was I the only one who saw the glowing commands pushing her further into depravity? My family was crumbling, my husband enabling, and my daughter turning into a monster, all thanks to these invisible whispers. The final straw came when, driven by those very pop-ups, Jessie destroyed her own life chasing a wealthy, deadbeat fiancé, leaving behind ruin and a neglected baby. That's when David and I decided: we’d stop fighting her battles. We’d save her son, but the daughter we knew was gone. We had to sever ties, for our own survival.

Never did Flora expect that love would be that fragile. She and her fiance had been together for fifteen years, but he cheated on her with another woman. That night, she became a homeless deserted woman. William, a noble man from a rich family, whose identity was a mystery. They were from two different worlds but became neighbors by accident. Love tricks started their story. However, their marriage only lasted two years. She became a divorced young woman, and the woman who was somewhat looked like her became his fiancee.

Elliana, the unfavored "ugly duckling" of her family, was humiliated by her stepsister, Paige, who everyone admired. Paige, engaged to the CEO Cole, was the perfect woman-until Cole married Elliana on the day of the wedding. Shocked, everyone wondered why he chose the "ugly" woman. As they waited for her to be cast aside, Elliana stunned everyone by revealing her true identity: a miracle healer, financial mogul, appraisal prodigy, and AI genius. When her mistreatment became known, Cole revealed Elliana's stunning, makeup-free photo, sending shockwaves through the media. "My wife doesn't need anyone's approval."

"Stella once savored Marc's devotion, yet his covert cruelty cut deep. She torched their wedding portrait at his feet while he sent flirty messages to his mistress. With her chest tight and eyes blazing, Stella delivered a sharp slap. Then she deleted her identity, signed onto a classified research mission, vanished without a trace, and left him a hidden bombshell. On launch day she vanished; that same dawn Marc's empire crumbled. All he unearthed was her death certificate, and he shattered. When they met again, a gala spotlighted Stella beside a tycoon. Marc begged. With a smirk, she said, ""Out of your league, darling."

For three quiet, patient years, Christina kept house, only to be coldly discarded by the man she once trusted. Instead, he paraded a new lover, making her the punchline of every town joke. Liberated, she honed her long-ignored gifts, astonishing the town with triumph after gleaming triumph. Upon discovering she'd been a treasure all along, her ex-husband's regret drove him to pursue her. "Honey, let's get back together!" With a cold smirk, Christina spat, "Fuck off." A silken-suited mogul slipped an arm around her waist. "She's married to me now. Guards, get him the hell out of here!"

After five years of playing the perfect daughter, Rylie was exposed as a stand-in. Her fiancé bolted, friends scattered, and her adoptive brothers shoved her out, telling her to grovel back to her real family. Done with humiliation, she swore to claw back what was hers. Shock followed: her birth family ruled the town's wealth. Overnight, she became their precious girl. The boardroom brother canceled meetings, the genius brother ditched his lab, the musician brother postponed a tour. As those who spurned her begged forgiveness, Admiral Brad Morgan calmly declared, "She's already taken."

Sunlit hours found their affection glimmering, while moonlit nights ignited reckless desire. But when Brandon learned his beloved might last only half a year, he coolly handed Millie divorce papers, murmuring, "This is all for appearances; we'll get married again once she's calmed down." Millie, spine straight and cheeks dry, felt her pulse go hollow. The sham split grew permanent; she quietly ended their unborn child and stepped into a new beginning. Brandon unraveled, his car tearing down the street, unwilling to let go of the woman he'd discarded, pleading for her to look back just once.

Linsey was stood up by her groom to run off with another woman. Furious, she grabbed a random stranger and declared, "Let's get married!" She had acted on impulse, realizing too late that her new husband was the notorious rascal, Collin. The public laughed at her, and even her runaway ex offered to reconcile. But Linsey scoffed at him. "My husband and I are very much in love!" Everyone thought she was delusional. Then Collin was revealed to be the richest man in the world. In front of everyone, he got down on one knee and held up a stunning diamond ring. "I look forward to our forever, honey."

In their previous lives, Gracie married Theo. Outwardly, they were the perfect academic couple, but privately, she became nothing more than a stepping stone for his ambition, and met a tragic end. Her younger sister Ellie wed Brayden, only to be abandoned for his true love, left alone and disgraced. This time, both sisters were reborn. Ellie rushed to marry Theo, chasing the success Gracie once had-unaware she was repeating the same heartbreak. Gracie instead entered a contract marriage with Brayden. But when danger struck, he defended her fiercely. Could fate finally rewrite their tragic endings?

Maia grew up a pampered heiress-until the real daughter returned and framed her, sending Maia to prison with help from her fiancé and family. Four years later, free and married to Chris, a notorious outcast, everyone assumed Maia was finished. They soon discovered she was secretly a famed jeweler, elite hacker, celebrity chef, and top game designer. As her former family begged for help, Chris smiled calmly. "Honey, let's go home." Only then did Maia realize her "useless" husband was a legendary tycoon who'd adored her from the start.

The whispers said that out of bitter jealousy, Hadley shoved Eric's beloved down the stairs, robbing the unborn child of life. To avenge, Eric forced Hadley abroad and completely cut her off. Years later, she reemerged, and they felt like strangers. When they met again, she was the nightclub's star, with men ready to pay fortunes just to glimpse her elusive performance. Unable to contain himself, Eric blocked her path, asking, "Is this truly how you earn a living now? Why not come back to me?" Hadley's lips curved faintly. "If you’re eager to see me, you’d better join the queue, darling."

Blinded in a crash, Cary was rejected by every socialite—except Evelina, who married him without hesitation. Three years later, he regained his sight and ended their marriage. "We’ve already lost so many years. I won’t let her waste another one on me." Evelina signed the divorce papers without a word. Everyone mocked her fall—until they discovered that the miracle doctor, jewelry mogul, stock genius, top hacker, and the President's true daughter… were all her. When Cary came crawling back, a ruthless tycoon had him kicked out. "She's my wife now. Get lost."