Liu Jia

For three years, I hid my identity as a top scientist and heiress, pretending to be a simple graduate student. All to secretly develop a cure for my husband Graham's fatal genetic disease. Then, in his sleep, he whispered another woman's name-Keeley. I soon discovered she was his ex-girlfriend and, horrifyingly, my doppelgänger. He brought her into our home, siding with her as she attacked me, causing a fall that made me lose our unborn child. He showed no remorse. Instead, he publicly humiliated me, accused me of faking the pregnancy, and filed for an annulment to marry her. The man I sacrificed my career, my fortune, and my identity for saw me as nothing more than a convenient substitute. He destroyed my life, all for a cheap copy of me. He thought he had broken me. But he forgot who I really am. Now, as the true head of the Morton Institute, I'm ready to reclaim my name. At the global press conference for his cure, I will expose every last one of their lies.

My sister and I were stranded on a deserted road, eight months pregnant and with a flat tire, when a truck' s headlights pinned us in their glare. It wasn't swerving to avoid us. It was aiming for us. The crash was a symphony of destruction. As a monstrous pain ripped through my pregnant belly, I called my husband, Kade, my voice choked with blood and fear. "Kade… accident… the baby… something' s wrong with the baby." But I didn't hear panic. I heard his stepsister, Florence, whining in the background about a headache. Then came Kade' s voice, cold as ice. "Stop being so dramatic. You probably just bumped a curb. Florence needs me." He hung up. He chose her over me, over his sister-in-law, over his own unborn child. I woke up in the hospital to two truths. My sister, a world-renowned pianist, would never play again. And our son, the baby I had carried for eight months, was gone. They thought we were just collateral damage in their perfect lives. They were about to find out we were the reckoning.

For three years, I believed him. Ethan, the "bankrupt entrepreneur," the man I worked three jobs for, pouring every penny into his supposed debt. He promised me the world, a future. Then, at a high-end charity auction, I saw him. Not in worn-out jeans, but a tailored suit, buying a million-dollar necklace for Sophia Thorne, a famous socialite he called his fiancée. My world shattered. A news headline confirmed it: "Tech Heir Ethan Miller Celebrates Fiancée Sophia Thorne' s Birthday with Million-Dollar Gift." His three-year 'hiatus' was a lie. I was a placeholder, an "experiment" he kept to warm his bed while he waited for his "real love." The humiliation was a physical ache, deepened by Sophia and his family' s cruel dismissal. He called me a "charity case," they laughed at my expense, all while he showed me a kindness he never truly felt. He pretended concern for my injuries, offering cheap flowers, but for Sophia, he was a raging lion. The man who let a customer grab my arm told me to "just be nice, we need the tips," but for her, he was a hero. What kind of man makes you believe in true love, only to reveal you were nothing but a convenient lie? How could I have been so blind? The hate formed a cold, hard resolve in the wreckage of my heart. He didn't just break my heart; he stole three years of my life. He made a fool of me. And now, I would make him pay.

For seven years, I lived under the illusion of being loved, enduring the Hayes family' s casual neglect and Daniel' s cold indifference, believing my childhood crush would eventually return my devotion. Then, one night, I saw the truth-Daniel, my fiancé, clutching a silk scarf and whispering his hidden desire for Olivia, his adoptive sister. My seven years of love turned to dust in that instant. Olivia Hayes, the golden child for whom I was merely a placeholder, returned home and immediately orchestrated a public spectacle. She faked an injury, bleeding from a self-inflicted wound, and screamed that I had attacked her, turning the family' s welcome party into a chaotic scene. My adoptive mother, Martha, without a second' s hesitation, slapped me across the face, while Daniel' s eyes were filled with pure disgust. Alone and terrified, I was pursued by aggressive dogs-a cruel, calculated act, as the Hayes family knew my pathological fear. I screamed for help, but Daniel, my adoptive parents, drove away into the darkness, leaving me to fall unconscious, only to wake up alone in a hospital with Olivia' s fake concern and my family' s dismissive voices echoing through the walls. Back home, my last remaining sanctuary, my art studio, was gone, replaced by a dance studio for Olivia. My life' s work, a competition piece, was maliciously destroyed. When I tried to confront Olivia, Daniel violently shoved me, and my adoptive father' s hand connected with my face, leaving me bleeding and broken, my heart shattered into fragments. I had given them everything-my pride, my art, my very being-only to be betrayed and dismissed. How could they be so blind, so cruel, so utterly devoid of love for their real daughter? Why did I have to fight for everything, while Olivia effortlessly received their adoration? With nothing left to lose, I definitively chose to walk away and embrace a new life, a new beginning with Michael Blackwood, the man who had silently loved me all along.

The security guard at the Grand Orion Hotel stopped me cold, demanding an invitation I didn' t have. My simple suit and comfortable shoes screamed that I didn' t belong, and his dismissive glance confirmed it. Then came the grating voice I knew too well: Brendan Riley, my former supervisor, flanked by his snickering sycophant, Kevin Miller. They oozed smug superiority, relishing the sight of me, the unemployed junior marketing assistant he' d unjustly fired a month ago, standing humiliated at the hotel entrance. They mocked me, suggesting I was lost on the way to a soup kitchen, openly laughing at my pathetic attempts to get in. As if that wasn' t enough, Chloe Davis, an old team member I once thought I connected with, surfaced, her pity and disgust palpable as she advised me to simply go home. They had no idea. They saw a jobless loser, a charity case. What they couldn' t fathom was that I owned the very building they were so desperately trying to get into. The air grew thick with their mocking, each jab a reminder of their shallow worldview. But their confidence was built on a crumbling foundation, and I knew the truth was about to detonate their carefully constructed reality. Because sometimes, the quietest person in the room is the one holding all the cards.

The sweet scent of birthday cake filled my car, a promise of a happy surprise for my son, Finn, at his coding bootcamp. My cheerful mood shattered the moment the lead instructor, Ms. Albright, coldly informed me I wasn' t on his authorized visitor list. Then another mother, dressed in designer clothes, cruelly whispered that I was likely "some woman" trying to con families for their money. Humiliation burned as security guards appeared, their presence turning a simple misunderstanding into a menacing accusation of attempted abduction. Ms. Albright' s contempt chilled me to the bone when, after I showed her a photo of Finn and me, she flatly declared, "That is not the Finn who attends this bootcamp. That is a different boy." Desperation clawed at me; I knew my Finn was here, yet they were trying to throw me out. I broke free and ran, bursting into a classroom full of teenagers, my eyes scanning for my son. Instead, a blond boy in the front row looked up, startled, and then said, "Mom?"-but he wasn't looking at me. Then, facing me directly, he declared, "Who are you? I don't know her! My dad is Mark Peterson." This wasn' t just a mistake; it was a twisted, deliberate lie. A wave of nausea and fury crashed over me as Ashley Daniels, the "other mother," slapped me across the face and sneered, "Mark mentioned you might show up. The obsessed ex-wife." My reality crumbled as Mark, my husband, joined in, confirming her story and labeling me a "psychotic break," threatening to keep Finn from me forever. But the fear burned away, leaving a cold, sharp resolve. I pulled out our marriage certificate, proving his bigamy, and then delivered the final blow: Mark Peterson was no tech CEO; he was a 'kept man,' living off my family's trust fund. Just as his carefully constructed façade shattered, my real son, Finn, emerged from the hallway, his confused gaze the ultimate indictment of his father's deceit. Amidst the chaos of Mark and Ashley' s public implosion, I held Finn close, whispered, "I am divorcing you," and vowed to reclaim everything. This wasn' t an ending-it was my defiant beginning.

The last thing I remembered was the crushing weight of hooves, the taste of dirt, and the finality of death. Then, I opened my eyes to a room bathed in red, the scent of cheap incense thick in the air-my wedding chamber, thirty years in the past. This was Autumn Frost and Shen Huaiyu' s wedding night, a life I had already lived and barely survived. Memories flooded back: a lifetime of unrequited love for my cold, disdainful husband, bullied and humiliated by his cousin Jasmine, culminating in my lonely death on the street. I was young again, but the innocence was gone. This wasn't a second chance at love; it was a torturous replay. My "husband," drunk and arrogant, sneered accusations instead of gentle words. He spoke of Jasmine, his voice softening for her, while treating me with open contempt. The next morning, his message through a servant - "Don' t cause any trouble" - was a fresh stab of rejection. My biggest regret from my first life was neglecting my mother while obsessing over him. I vowed that this time, she would be my priority. To secure our future, I planned to take the imperial examination, a dream sabotaged by Jasmine and my own blindness in the past. But Shen Huaiyu, ever controlling, forced me to visit my mother with him, a public display of his dominion. Then, the fire. Just like in my first life. He ordered me to stay put, dismissively assuring me of my safety, while Jasmine watched with a triumphant smirk. I was trapped, my mother in danger. Later, he appeared at my side, holding a perfectly forged exam pass. My foolish heart dared to hope, only for him to expose me to utter public humiliation at the examination hall. The pass was a fake. The ensuing riot injured my mother, confirming my deepest fears: he cared nothing for me, and worse, he was a danger to her. All the pain, the betrayal, the humiliation of two lifetimes culminated in one cold, hard decision: "I want a divorce." He refused, thinking I was hysterical, but I had made up my mind. I would find a way out, even if it cost me everything.

Tonight was everything: my final interview for the American Achievement Scholarship, my gateway to an Ivy League. As I refined my presentation, my stepsister, Jessica Vance, entered, that sweet, insincere smile on her face. "Nervous, Sarah?" she asked, offering a steaming mug of "herbal tea." Naively, I drank it. The next thing I knew, I woke disoriented in a cheap motel, my laptop displaying a plagiarized presentation. Moments later, stern school security and committee members burst in, accusing me of fraud. Publicly shamed, disqualified, my father disowned me, swayed by Jessica' s mother. My boyfriend, Mark Olsen, offered false comfort, trapping me with an unplanned pregnancy. While my peers thrived, I was stuck, my dreams shattered, my spirit ground into dust over five miserable years. One night, I overheard Mark and Jessica: the tea, the motel, the plagiarism-all a "perfect" setup for her to win. Their cold, calculated betrayal shattered me. The injustice was soul-crushing. Broken, I stumbled out, only to die in a blinding crash. Then, a sharp gasp. My eyes flew open. I was in my bed. The door creaked open. Jessica walked in, holding a steaming mug. "Nervous, Sarah?" she asked, that fake-sweet smile identical. "I made you some herbal tea." But this time, I knew. This time, I wouldn't just survive; I would fight back.

For nearly a decade, I walked through life as Mrs. Hamilton, wife to the charming and successful Ethan. Our perfect marriage was more than a facade; it was my very existence, bound by a secret Soul Pact that determined whether I lived or died. Then, seven days before my designated survival deadline, Ethan casually dropped a bombshell: he needed a temporary divorce for his latest fling, a demanding young intern named Chloe. He offered me designer bags and an unlimited credit card, oblivious that he was asking me to sign my own death warrant, effectively sealing my fate. Chloe, triumphant and venomous, reveled in my humiliation from my very own penthouse, mocking me as "old news" while lounging in my favorite spots. Ethan, valuing his mistress's fleeting whims over my life, eagerly discarded our shared history and sent me away. The chilling countdown from the Soul Pact System inside me confirmed my imminent end-a meticulously "staged accident" awaited. How could someone mistake my life for a casual game, oblivious that his "temporary break" was my permanent end? My heart ached with the profound loneliness of carrying this fatal secret alone, a cruel irony after years of quiet endurance. I died in a fiery crash, right on schedule. But then, a cold, digital voice whispered, "System error. Collect 100 Regret Points from Ethan to be reborn." Now, an unseen spectator, my very existence hinges on the depth of his sorrow.

My own father, David, drowned me in the cold Caribbean, tying the anchor chain to my ankles himself, his voice devoid of emotion as he declared it was "for Chloe," my adopted sister, blaming me for her demise. But instead of death, I gasped awake, not underwater, but on our luxury yacht, the *Serenity*, hours before the terrifying pirate attack I'd already endured, realizing I was trapped reliving my darkest nightmare. My frantic warnings dismissed, my father abandoned us *again*, taking all able-bodied security and crew for a dolphin chase with Chloe, only to explicitly tell my terrified mother on the phone that I was "shark bait *again*," a chilling confirmation that he remembered my original death and was willing to let it happen once more. The injustice was soul-crushing: while my brother, Mike, bravely sacrificed his arm fighting the invading pirates, even our closest ally, Uncle Ben, initially sided with David and Chloe, believing their manipulative lies about my supposed "jealous drama." However, the grotesque discovery of Mike's severed limb in the open ocean finally shattered Uncle Ben's blind faith, transforming him into an unlikely ally and igniting within me an unyielding resolve to uncover the shocking truth: my "sweet" adopted sister, Chloe, was the actual orchestrator of every horrific betrayal, and I would make sure she paid for every single one of our recurring nightmares.

In other people's eyes, Amy was nothing more than a spoiled heiress. Everyone thought that she could have anything in the world as long as she called for it. Who would've thought that underneath the branded clothing was a lonely woman in search of comfort? That is, until Walter waltzed into her life. She thought that everything could finally fall into place until it all came crashing apart once again. As Amy ran away in despair, he could only stare at her retreating figure as he found himself crumbling in the own mess he had made. It seemed that there would be no winners in this game of love.

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!"

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.

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."

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.

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?

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."

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."

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."