Mo Yufei

My husband tore my ultrasound report to shreds at a gala, publicly declaring me barren to protect his mistress. I was visibly pregnant, but he erased me, our child, and my truth with a single, cruel lie. So I faked my death and disappeared. Five years later, I returned, no longer a fragile wife but a hardened salvage expert with a fortune. I walked into a high-stakes auction where Emerson was the top bidder. I let my son, his spitting image, make the first move. Then, I stepped from the shadows and calmly raised my paddle. "Seven hundred fifty million."

I was naked in the bed of the most dangerous Capo in New York when I heard his mind whisper the name of the woman he actually wanted. It wasn't me. My husband, Dante, moved over me with cold precision, but his thoughts were screaming for Sofia, a soldier's widow he claimed to protect out of "honor." I possess a secret that makes me a freak: I can hear the thoughts of men. And Dante’s mind was a torture chamber of devotion to another woman. I found the deed to a luxury penthouse he bought for her. I watched her parade around in a dress he bought for me, hearing her mental triumph as she thought about rubbing her scent all over it. Refusing to be a placeholder in my own marriage, I left my wedding ring on his desk and fled to Las Vegas to build my own empire. I thought I had escaped. Until the divorce papers arrived in the mail, signed by him. I stood in my shop, heartbroken, believing he had finally discarded me to be with his true love. But then the phone rang. "Dante didn't sign those papers, Elena. He’s in the ICU." My blood ran cold. "He took two bullets to the chest. He started a war to distract the enemy from finding you." He hadn't chosen her. He was dying for me. I tore up the papers and booked a private jet. If the Grim Reaper wanted my husband, he would have to get through me first.

I went to the Department of Vital Records to pick up my four-year-old son's death certificate, but I left with a birth certificate for my husband's illegitimate child. The date of birth was August 14th. My son, Leo, had drowned in October. While I was choosing a casket for our child, Eli had been holding his newborn with another woman. I tried to confront him at a charity gala, but his mistress walked in holding their son's hand. The boy pointed at Eli and innocently asked if they were playing the "game" again—the same game they were playing in the bedroom while Leo wandered into the pool and drowned. The truth shattered me. I screamed, lunging at the monsters who let my son die. But Eli didn't comfort me. He shoved me off the stage to protect his mistress, breaking my leg in front of everyone. Later, to silence me forever, his family had me beaten and dumped under a bridge, leaving me blind and broken in the freezing rain. They thought I was dead. They thought they had won. But I survived. I found a doctor who could perform a radical procedure: Targeted Memory Suppression. I chose to surgically excise Eli Stark from my mind completely. Six months later, I stood on stage as a celebrated neuroscientist, my sight restored and my life reclaimed. A haggard, weeping man approached me with a massive diamond ring, begging for a second chance. I looked at him with clear, unrecognizing eyes and asked, "Excuse me, do I know you?"

I was the substitute bride, the secret illegitimate daughter forced to marry the billionaire Fletcher Dillon when my perfect half-sister ran away. My life was a quiet hell of his cruelty and control. Then, my sister Aislinn came back. At a party, she pushed us both into the bay. As I struggled for air, I watched Fletcher dive in and save her, leaving me to drown. When I found out I was pregnant, he dragged me to a hospital to "get rid of the obstacle." The procedure nearly killed me. Then Aislinn framed me for theft, and Fletcher had me whipped until I bled on the marble floor. He told me my life belonged to him, that I was a toy he could break and repair as he pleased. I was nothing more than a cheap replacement for the woman he truly wanted. So when kidnappers forced him to choose between saving Aislinn or me, he sacrificed me without hesitation. As they dragged me away, I saw him comforting her, his back turned to me. This was my chance. I broke free and plunged into the ocean as a bullet grazed my skin. It was time for everyone to believe I was dead.

I thought marrying Noah Harrison was my fairytale. He gave up everything for me – his family, his fortune. He said, "You're all that matters." Then his older brother died, and Noah became the sole heir. His family dragged him back, and I watched as he was molded into a stranger. A stranger whose intimacy was now shared with his widowed sister-in-law, Olivia, in the library, whispers of an heir filling the air. His mother, Mrs. Harrison, began my "training," each lesson a cut, reminding me of my "humble origins." When I found myself pregnant, a secret joy amidst the cruelty, I thought it would save us. I was so wrong. I overheard Mrs. Harrison whisper, "A child from her would be a stain on the family line. We must handle it." After a forced cup of tea, I miscarried violently in a cold hospital room. Then, a chilling clarity broke through my medicated haze. I heard the doctors, talking to Noah outside my room. "A hysterectomy is the only way to prevent future complications." Noah' s voice was firm, "Do it. Whatever it takes to protect her." I believed him. But then I found his locked journal. The pages laid out a truth colder than ice: the miscarriage was orchestrated, the surgery was not to save my life, but to ensure I could never bear a child, never challenge Olivia's secret pregnancy. He had ordered the removal of my uterus to secure his inheritance, to keep me a barren, placid wife. The man who sacrificed everything for me had sacrificed me for everything. The naive girl was gone. Now, only escape remained. I would fake my own death, and it would be spectacular.

The last thing I remember was the gnawing hunger, locked in the shed by my parents who believed my adopted sister' s outrageous lie. "I'm a time-traveler!" Britney had shrieked, claiming I'd ruined our family in a past life and killed them. My own parents, without a single question, bought her story, seeing her as a savior and me, their biological child, as a monster. They bound me, broke my limbs, and left me for dead in our dark, dank basement, all to ensure Britney got everything I had worked for. How could they be so blind, so cruel, so willing to believe a fantasy over their own daughter? Then, I opened my eyes to sunlight, my body whole, only to hear Britney' s cheerful voice from downstairs, alive, on the very day she claimed to be a time-traveler.

The organ music swelled, sunlight streaming through stained-glass windows, painting colored patterns on the white roses lining the aisle. It was my wedding day, perfectly planned for over a year, and I was walking down the aisle to marry Mark, the perfect fiancé. But as I reached the altar, a cold knot formed in my stomach, not the rush of love I expected. When the priest asked, "Do you, Sarah Miller, take this man, Mark Davis, to be your lawfully wedded husband?" I could only think of Betsy, my golden retriever. Then the word slipped out. "No." The church erupted in gasps. My mother' s handkerchief fell. Mark' s smile froze. This was because Betsy, my wise, old dog, had refused to come with me this morning. She just sat in the yard and wouldn' t move. "She knows," I told Mark, pulling my hands from his. "She's always been my sign. Her refusing to come here... it means this is wrong. This marriage is wrong." The murmuring turned to outright condemnation. "Crazy." "Unbelievable." Mark hissed, "You're calling off our wedding because your dog had a weird morning?" My father grabbed my arm, threatening, "You are going back in there and finishing this ceremony." I lunged, screaming, "Don't you touch her!" In that moment, everything changed. I knew I had to act, not just for myself, but for the intuition Betsy represented. My decision was clear: this wedding was off, and I was walking away from everything I thought I knew.

For six years, I' ve been Alex Miller in name only, living as an invisible servant and punching bag in my own home, a twisted marriage forced upon me to save my family. One seemingly normal day, red wine (the same vintage they toasted their anniversary with) shattered on the marble, a glass "accidentally" knocked by Damien, my wife Vivian' s lover. "Clean it up," Vivian sneered, not even looking at me. She then demanded I use my shirt, not my hands, so I wouldn' t scratch her precious floor, while Damien purred fake sympathy, asking if I even remembered what it was like to be a man. The familiar humiliation, a cloak I' d worn for 2,190 days, tightened around me. Why did I endure this daily torment from the wife who saw me as her cage, and her cruel co-conspirator? Then, a quiet call from the hospital delivered a gut punch: my father was dying, and his last wish was to see me free. That spark wasn' t hope, but something sharper. It was rebellion.

The last thing I remember is the cold, seeping into my bones as I froze to death in an abandoned barn. But then, I heard weeping, and snapped my eyes open to find myself sitting on a hard wooden pew, at Andrew' s funeral. My mother-in-law, Debra Chadwick, was there, sobbing about how they' d take care of me and Molly, just as she did twenty years ago. The exact same false promise that had shackled me for two decades, turning me into their live-in nurse and servant until they threw me out to die. The sheer audacity of it, of being brought back only to face the same manipulative lies, surged through me with a hot, sharp rage. Not grief, not confusion, but pure, unadulterated fury. This time, I wouldn't take her sedatives. This time, I shoved her arm off me. This time, everything would be different.

My whole life revolved around Liam, my best friend, the boy I loved. We had a shared dream: journalism, Northwestern, forever. Then, at our graduation party, I overheard him call me "suffocating" and "clingy," admitting he' d lied about our future just to "keep me on a leash." My world shattered. I cut him out, enrolled in NYU alone, and rebuilt my life, finding success and even a supportive, loving boyfriend, Marcus. But Liam, the boy who promised me forever, became a relentless shadow, creeping back into my life, whispering apologies and making desperate, unhinged claims of love. How could someone claim to love you while actively trying to destroy you? What kind of twisted affection drives a person to such lengths? I learned the dark truth: he hadn' t just been cruel, he' d sabotaged my career and then, on my wedding day, drugged and kidnapped me, holding me captive in a glass house overlooking the Pacific. I needed to escape, to prove my unwavering strength, and make him truly understand.

My younger brother, David, clutched his art scholarship, his face beaming with the promise of a future. Our small, cramped apartment, usually filled with textbooks and art supplies, felt like a palace that night. He was seventeen, brilliant, and on the cusp of his dreams. Then, a hard knock on the door, not the friendly kind. Three brutal enforcers from the notorious Rizzo crime family burst in, smashing our world. They shoved me aside, seized David, and I heard screams, crashes, and my brother's desperate cry: "No! My portfolio!" When they finally left, David lay bleeding, his drawing hand bent at a sickening angle, his scholarship certificate torn and stomped on. But the nightmare had only just begun. The police laughed me out of the station, dismissing it as "not clearly an assault." Lawyers turned pale at the Rizzo name, citing "conflict of interest." Our cries for justice were met with chilling threats, online smear campaigns, and my job loss. Frank Rizzo Sr. himself called, gloating, threatening to have David discharged from the hospital. How could they be so powerful, so terrifyingly untouchable? Every avenue for help was blocked. We were just two kids against an powerful empire built on fear and corruption that seemingly owned our entire city. Were we truly fighting a losing battle against evil that had permeated every system? They wanted me to feel utterly hopeless, to break me. But when I saw my Medal of Honor father' s torn uniform photograph amidst the wreckage, a desperate, crazy thought sparked. Washington D.C. The Pentagon. Could a dead hero's forgotten legacy still offer a chance at justice, even when all hope seemed lost in a world gone wrong?

My head pounded, a familiar ache, as I slowly sat up in my dorm room, sunlight streaming through the window. But something was terribly wrong; the last thing I remembered was my farewell party before London, a drink from Brianna, and then a confusing blank. Now, my phone confirmed the impossible: September 5th, move-in day, the exact beginning of my freshman year. A cold dread washed over me, stomach churning, as the door creaked open, revealing Brianna Evans, my new roommate. She was slinging a cheap, shiny black jacket over her arm – a blatant, terrible knock-off of my AllSaints leather jacket, the one I had just worn in my real past. It hit me then: I was trapped in a horrifying loop, forced to relive every cruel detail of the previous timeline. I remembered her subtle digs, the stolen moments, the way she'd mimic me, then twist things until I looked like the villain, the prestigious internship I lost, the friendships she sabotaged, the reputation she systematically destroyed. My blood ran cold, then hot with a fury born of knowing exactly what she was. How could I be back here, forced to endure this slow-motion psychological torture all over again? The sheer unfairness of facing her again, knowing the devastation she' d leave in her wake, was almost unbearable. But deep within me, the old Ash – the one who was kind, accommodating, and always gave the benefit of the doubt – was gone, poisoned out of existence by Brianna's venom. This time, things would be drastically different. The game was on, and though she thought she held all the cards, I knew the rules now. I had a lifetime of future knowledge, and this time, the winner wouldn't be Brianna. My future was finally mine to reclaim.

My new beginning with Michael seemed perfect, especially with his doting mother, Susan, living right next door. She cooked me endless "special" meals and offered "optimal maternal wellness" vitamins, convinced I needed to be strong to start a family. But soon, a persistent fatigue set in. I started feeling weaker, not stronger. Then, I overheard Susan discussing a chilling "plan" where my growing paleness was a "good sign." The sweet meals became a source of dread, the vitamins a silent threat. Desperate, I faked a pregnancy to expose her, only for my husband Michael to confess a shocking secret orchestrated by his own mother: he was sterile. Susan, unfazed, then tried to make me drink a suspicious-looking "calming tea." Why was she systematically poisoning my body and sabotaging my future? What sinister motive lay beneath her doting facade? Was my husband merely a puppet in a game I didn’t understand? With my life and health on the line, I knew I had no choice but to uncover the full, horrifying truth, even if it meant tearing apart the family I thought I married into.

The rumor said Leon was an aloof and clod CEO, who had never fallen for any women. However, a bold woman won his attention and they even spent a wild night. Since then, he got addicted to her and gave her all his adoration. She thought she had his love, but she was only a part of his conspiracy. Failing to take the cruel truth, she gave up and jumped into the inferno. Only when he lost her did he realize the very fact that he had lost his heart to her. That was not the end of their story but a new start.

Ivy Luo is ordinary and optimistic. She drops out of school, works hard, and raises the child for her sister. She goes to a job interview at a grand hotel, but she feels uncomfortable as if having been drugged. Then she runs into a room wanting to calm down herself with water, where she meets this handsome and rich man Edgar. Attracted by his handsome appearance, she takes the initiative and has a one-night stand with him. Later, she finds that he is considerate to her and she loves him back. When his ex-girlfriend comes back, he refuses her resolutely, because he finds that he has fallen in love with Ivy Luo. Would the couple be happy together?

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?

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."

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.

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."