Rabbit

My fiancée, Jocelyn, lost her memory in a skiing accident three months ago. At least, that's what she told me. She conveniently forgot all seven years of our life together, but no one else. I spent my life savings on neurologists, desperate to bring back the woman I loved. Then, one evening, I overheard her on a speakerphone call with her best friend. "It's just a summer fling to get it out of my system," she laughed. "Ethan's my endgame, but he's a little boring. He'll be waiting like a sad puppy when I'm done playing." My blood ran cold. The sleepless nights, the pain, the constant worry-it was all a joke to her. Her friend asked what she would do if I ever found out and tried to leave. Jocelyn's reply was chilling. "He's not going anywhere. He's mine. If he tried to leave, I'd find him and lock him up so he could never escape." I realized our entire history was a lie. I wasn't her partner; I was her property. A safe bet she could put on a shelf while she had her fun. My suffering wasn't a tragedy to her; it was the price of her entertainment. That night, I didn't cry. I booked a one-way ticket to the other side of the world. Then, I walked into the courthouse and filed a petition to legally change my name. She wanted to play a game? Fine. Let's play hide and seek.

"Ethan, this is unethical. It's criminal. She hasn't consented." Those chilling words, whispered in the sterile hum of an operating room, were the first thing I heard as consciousness flickered back. My heart pounded, cold dread snaking through my veins. Dr. Ben Carter, Ethan's old friend, was arguing with him. "She's my girlfriend, Ben. Practically my wife," Ethan scoffed, his voice laced with a terrifying casualness. "Chloe needs this kidney. Ava is a perfect match." Kidney. Chloe. My blood ran cold. The beautiful, fragile Chloe Vahn, who had always haunted our relationship, was now taking a piece of me, quite literally. I tried to scream, to move, but my body felt like lead, my throat raw. I felt a sharp tug, a searing line of fire on my side-the scalpel. Ten years of love, of sacrifice, building Ethan Reed and his company back from nothing, all for this. To be carved up like an animal for the woman he truly loved. When I finally regained full awareness, Ethan was by my bedside, a practiced look of concern on his face, spinning a lie about a ruptured ovarian cyst. But then, the overheard nurse's whispered conversation confirmed my nightmare: "Chloe's kidney transplant... he barely left her side." The pieces slammed into place. My despair solidified into a cold, hard resolve. No more. I grabbed my phone, scrolling to one contact I hadn't dared to call. Noah Hayes, Ethan's rival, a man of integrity. My finger trembled as I typed. "Noah," I managed, my voice raspy. "Are you still looking for a COO who knows Reed Innovate's strategies... and perhaps, a wife?" The silence stretched, then his voice, calm and serious, cut through the noise of my crumbling world. "My jet, seven days. LaGuardia."

My parents died when I was seventeen, leaving me heartbroken and orphaned. Mr. Julian Vance, my father's charismatic former mentee and a Silicon Valley titan, unexpectedly stepped in as my guardian. He moved me into his lavish Atherton mansion, offering a bewildering new life of privilege. Confused by teenage feelings, I tragically developed a crush on him, confessing my yearning in a clumsy letter. Julian found it, and his kind facade shattered into a mask of pure fury. He denounced me as an "ungrateful, perverse child" and promptly sent me away to ClearPath Academy, a mysterious institution that promised to "fix" me. ClearPath was a nightmare. I endured forced medication, sleep deprivation, and brutal re-education, emerging months later a broken shell of my former self. Upon my return, Julian introduced his icy fiancée, Eleanor, who immediately launched a campaign of insidious manipulation and abuse against me. Julian, inexplicably blind to Eleanor's malice, repeatedly believed her lies over my pleas, dismissing my visible ClearPath scars as theatrics and ultimately abandoning me to violent thugs. Why was the man who once seemed to care so willing to believe such falsehoods and inflict such profound pain? How could he be so utterly deceived? The crushing weight of betrayal and abandonment pushed me to one final, desperate act beneath the Golden Gate Bridge. My shattered death finally tore away Julian's blinders. Consumed by agonizing guilt, he now confronts the horrifying truth about ClearPath and Eleanor's monstrous deception. He vows bloody retribution and embarks on a chilling penance, willing to endure my every torment in a desperate, last-ditch effort to redeem his tormented soul and reclaim my spirit.

My life with Liam Goldstein was a fairytale, a perfect love story plastered across every magazine and TV screen in Manhattan. He'd even unveiled the "Maya's Horizon" necklace, a multi-million-dollar cascade of sapphires, celebrating our perfect devotion. But fairytales are just that – tales. Then came the burner phone, the hushed calls, the screenshots, and hotel receipts that screamed 'affair'. I watched him live-stream gifts to his young mistress, Ava Sinclair, calling her his "queen," only to later find her visibly pregnant in a hospital, flaunting our engagement necklace and talking about a "situation" with me. His friends, the same ones who toasted our "perfect love," smirked as he publicly kissed Ava and joked about his "side action," assuring her I'd "never find out." Every grand gesture he'd made, from donating a kidney to cultivating a white rose garden, flashed before my eyes, revealing themselves as calculated performances. How could the man who saved my life, the one I vowed to, betray me with such grotesque audacity, in front of the world and his complicit inner circle? It felt like a sick cosmic joke, a public humiliation disguised as love. But I had given him a warning on our wedding day: "If you ever lie to me, truly lie, I will vanish from your life as if I never existed." Now, it was time to activate the Phoenix Initiative, erase Maya Goldstein, and leave Liam with nothing but ghost of a promise he had shattered.

My life revolved around Ethan, the secret husband I loved fiercely, despite the feud between our families. Then, Chloe Vance, his ex-girlfriend and now stepmother, cornered me in a powder room with a cruel bet: ten chances to make Ethan publicly claim me, or I'd sign divorce papers and disappear. Each attempt to win his affection ended in public humiliation. He remained cold, his attention always on Chloe, who openly delighted in my torment. He looked at me with disgust when I tried to bridge the distance, abandoned me in a fire, and watched me suffer an acid attack – his only concern for her. Despite my agony, he later tried to make me take the fall for her sordid scandals. How could the man I loved treat me with such brutal indifference, repeatedly choosing his ex-girlfriend while I withered? Was I merely a convenient shield, a secret to be hidden, while his true devotion remained with another woman? The casual cruelty, the dismissive betrayal, chipped away at everything I believed. Watching him side with her after that horrific attack, something inside me irrevocably shattered. My foolish, stubborn love for Ethan Gold finally, completely died. I decided then that I wouldn't just leave; I would reclaim my life and dignity, severing every last tie to the man who never truly saw me. And he would finally understand what he had lost.

For three years, I lived a lie as Ava Cole, wife to Ethan, whose devotion was reserved not for me, but his college sweetheart, Chloe Vance. I meticulously tracked his escalating betrayals in my secret "Breaking Point Ledger," knowing 100 points meant freedom. The ledger filled quickly, fueled by his unapologetic neglect and public displays of obsession. Then, disaster struck: caught in a violent car crash, I lay bleeding, my world shattering around me. Doctors, grim-faced, revealed I was eight weeks pregnant, desperately needing help. But when the hospital reached Ethan, his urgent command echoed chillingly: prioritize Chloe, who had a mere allergic reaction. My baby, our baby, was lost. "We couldn't save the baby," the nurse later confirmed, her voice laced with a silent fury that mirrored my own. The ledger, once a quiet tally, now screamed past its limit, leaving a brutal, undeniable score of his final, ultimate betrayal. There was no going back; only forward. With a soul-deep resolve, I signed my divorce papers, reclaiming Ava Miller and leaving behind the shattered remnants of a life that was never truly mine. My bags were already packed for Austin, ready for a new chapter where I would rebuild, reclaim, and rise from the ashes.

My marriage to Ethan Cole, a man revered as a titan of industry, felt less like a partnership and more like a never-ending siege. After years of fighting for even a sliver of his attention, I found him on the floor of his study, fixated on a small, wooden box. Inside, nestled on velvet, were forbidden relics: a child's drawing, a pressed flower, and a faded photo of Olivia Vance, the girl he'd been raised with. The raw, yearning expression on his face, a look he had never once given me, confirmed the crushing truth: his emotional unavailability was solely reserved for her. Our sterile, business-transaction marriage was a smokescreen for his lifelong obsession, culminating in him abandoning me in a skyscraper fire as he pulled Olivia to safety. He then brushed off my concussion from Olivia's attack, prioritized her minor burn for a top surgeon, and offered obscene diamonds to buy my silence, while she moved into our home to subtly torture me. His blindness to Olivia's manipulation, his monumental arrogance, and his consistent disregard for my pain made me realize the devastating reality: he didn't just not feel for me, he chose to torment me instead. But as I saved myself from those flames, a cold, hard resolve replaced the agony. My love for him, long dead, was now replaced by a fierce determination: I would reclaim my life, expose his deceit, and make him truly understand the cost of his choices.

My life with Mark was perfect, a picture of happy marriage. He and his identical twin, David, ran a thriving brewery, and together with my sister Jess, we were an unbreakable foursome. Then, a shattering phone call. David, always so full of life, had collapsed and died. Weeks of agonizing grief followed, but the true nightmare began at a solemn family dinner. Mark's mother, Brenda, demanded the unthinkable: I was to carry David's child for my sister, a vessel for the "Thompson legacy." My own mother, always favoring Jess, twisted the knife, urging me to "be understanding." I stood paralyzed, while Mark, my supposed anchor, vehemently defended me. But that defense was a cruel facade. One night, I found him in my guest room, not comforting my grieving sister Jess, but kissing her. And then I heard it: "I want your baby, Mark. Openly. Not... not David's ghost." Jess was pregnant with his child. The man who swore to protect me was betraying me with my own sister, all while their desperate family tried to force me into a truly monstrous act. Every loving gesture, every word of trust, twisted into a grotesque lie. Was I truly so blind? So easily manipulated? Why me? Why this profound and sickening betrayal? That night, the naive wife died. A cold, hard rage ignited. I demanded a divorce, packed my bags, and moved halfway across the country. But Mark, Jess, and their twisted family thought they could sweep me aside. They were wrong. I wasn't running; I was retreating to draw the battle lines. This wasn't just about escape anymore. It was about meticulously crafting the perfect retribution, a revenge so complete, they'd wish they never crossed me.

My life with Liam Goldstein was a fairytale, a perfect love story plastered across every magazine and TV screen in Manhattan. He'd even unveiled the "Maya's Horizon" necklace, a multi-million-dollar cascade of sapphires, celebrating our perfect devotion. But fairytales are just that – tales. Then came the burner phone, the hushed calls, the screenshots, and hotel receipts that screamed 'affair'. I watched him live-stream gifts to his young mistress, Ava Sinclair, calling her his "queen," only to later find her visibly pregnant in a hospital, flaunting our engagement necklace and talking about a "situation" with me. His friends, the same ones who toasted our "perfect love," smirked as he publicly kissed Ava and joked about his "side action," assuring her I'd "never find out." Every grand gesture he'd made, from donating a kidney to cultivating a white rose garden, flashed before my eyes, revealing themselves as calculated performances. How could the man who saved my life, the one I vowed to, betray me with such grotesque audacity, in front of the world and his complicit inner circle? It felt like a sick cosmic joke, a public humiliation disguised as love. But I had given him a warning on our wedding day: "If you ever lie to me, truly lie, I will vanish from your life as if I never existed." Now, it was time to activate the Phoenix Initiative, erase Maya Goldstein, and leave Liam with nothing but ghost of a promise he had shattered.

I had spent six years as a secret, my relationship with Ethan hidden from my family, dismissing their attempts to set me up with a "serious" doctor. Then, a drunken comment revealed the truth: I was just a stand-in, a convenient replacement for Chloe Davis, Ethan's high-school sweetheart who had suddenly re-entered his life. Chloe wasted no time, returning with calculated malice to reclaim Ethan, subtly manipulating him while openly belittling me, culminating in a deliberately staged "accident" at a party that left my dominant hand severely injured. When I was finally hurt and bleeding in the ER, Ethan, preoccupied with Chloe, dismissed my pain to the nurse as "melodrama," a cold, brutal word that shattered what little was left of my heart. In that moment of crushing betrayal and utter emptiness, I knew I had to choose myself. I deleted him from my life, packed my bags, and, with a one-way ticket, walked away from six years of lies to reclaim my life, finding my true path with an unexpected, kind stranger.

My wedding day was perfect. The Arizona sun, desert blooms, the man of my dreams at the altar. Ethan. My father, Senator Daniel Reynolds, a pillar of the community, walked me down the aisle, his pride evident. It was all a beautiful lie. Just as I reached Ethan, he pulled out a DEA badge. "Senator Daniel Reynolds, you're under arrest." Chaos erupted, a shot rang out, and my father fell, dead. Ethan's cold eyes delivered the final blow: "It was an operation, Ava. Nothing more." My world shattered. I was discarded, questioned, abandoned. The man I loved blocked me, his job done. But the depths of my betrayal didn't stop there. I soon unearthed my mother's secret. Her "hiking accident" was no accident; she was a DEA agent, investigating my father, and killed by his cartel. My life, a cruel charade. How could everything I believed be a lie? My loving father a drug lord? My gentle mother a secret agent? My fiancé, a calculating spy? The injustice burned, fueling a fire hotter than any pain. Now, Ava Reynolds is dead. Ava is no more-only Alma remains. I will turn my pain, my rage, into a weapon. I will infiltrate the heart of the cartel that stole my mother. I will make them pay. Even if it means using the very man who broke me.

Jemma’s dad was jailed, and her friend betrayed her, leaving her desperate for the President’s help. While pleading her case, she unexpectedly spent a night with a mysterious man she knew nothing about. She discovered he was actually the President she sought, but he hated her and another woman had assumed her identity. Undeterred, Jemma overturned her father's conviction, thrived in many industries, and became a foreign President’s sister. Elites vied for her favor. When the truth emerged, the President regretted his deeds and claimed she was his only love, but Jemma said, “Sorry, I’d stay single.”

While Sienna reached the pinnacle of her success, Julian remained the forgotten son of his family, the one who had secretly stolen her first kiss in the shadows of the night. As Sienna hit her darkest moment, Julian returned home, leaving his life behind, only to witness her tears glistening in the moonlight as she reluctantly accepted another man's proposal. When Sienna needed Julian more than ever, he had risen to a position of power and had become her most steadfast pillar of support. "Please marry me." There was no one else in the world who could love Sienna as deeply as Julian did.

Compelled by her dad's dilemma and the looming fate of their business, Irene agreed to become Braydon's lover. To outsiders, Braydon seemed invulnerable, yet only Irene was privy to the tempestuous passions he unleashed behind closed doors. Gradually, Irene found herself tangled in the intricate emotional snare Braydon had woven, her heart craving more, only to be shattered by the revelation of his engagement. Devastated, she left and soon encountered Braydon's archrival. It was then that the formidable Braydon confronted the esteemed surgeon Dr. Mitchell, all in a fierce struggle over Irene.

Yelena discovered that she wasn't her parents' biological child. After seeing through their ploy to trade her as a pawn in a business deal, she was sent away to her barren birthplace. There, she stumbled upon her true origins—a lineage of historic opulence. Her real family showered her with love and adoration. In the face of her so-called sister's envy, Yelena conquered every adversity and took her revenge, all while showcasing her talents. She soon caught the attention of the city's most eligible bachelor. He cornered Yelena and pinned her against the wall. “It's time to reveal your true identity, darling.”

Working during summer vacation, a strange customer threw hot milk tea at me and even damaged the machines in the store. The milk tea shop sided with the customer and even took all of my wages to compensate for the damages. When I went to argue about it, I was crushed into minced meat by a large truck on the way. Opening my eyes again, I found myself back at the moment when the customer threw milk tea at me.

After five years of marriage, my husband is always absent on my birthday. No gifts, no blessings. He said, "I've given you the money, buy whatever you want." But he started preparing for Fiona's birthday half a month in advance. He said, "She's different, she only has me." As the sole survivor of a unexpected fire, he has been heartbroken for over a decade. Watching Fiona in Moments holding a cake and kissing his face. I slowly commented. 【Just this useless person, I'm giving him to you.】

In an effort to save his girlfriend's life, Randall's right hand was severely injured, rendering him disabled for life. Unexpectedly, what he got in return was betrayal: his girlfriend left him for his best friend! Just as he felt that his world was falling apart, he met a man who changed his life—the legendary Dr. Stewart Tran. Randall not only became a disciple of this world-renowned doctor but also inherited the man's insane wealth. That was how Randall started fighting back, defeating anyone who got in his way—and ultimately, living his legendary life.

In an effort to save his girlfriend's life, Randall's right hand was severely injured, rendering him disabled for life. Unexpectedly, what he got in return was betrayal: his girlfriend left him for his best friend! Just as he felt that his world was falling apart, he met a man who changed his life—the legendary Dr. Stewart Tran. Randall not only became a disciple of this world-renowned doctor but also inherited the man's insane wealth. That was how Randall started fighting back, defeating anyone who got in his way—and ultimately, living his legendary life.

One night, Deanna batted her eyelashes flirtatiously at the dashing Dario and together, they indulged in a night of endless passion. The time they met again, they had different goals in mind. She boldly hooked up with him, while he enjoyed it without hesitation. Knowing that their shared moments of passion were only part of a deal, they decided to enjoy it while they could. But Dario made the mistake of falling in love with her, which resulted in devastating heartbreak when she mercilessly abandoned him. Later, Deanna returned, looking more gorgeous than ever. Dario approached her sullenly. "Why did you run away?" Deanna smiled bitterly. "Because the love game is over." In response, Dario pressed her against the wall, his eyes aflame with desire. "No, it has only begun."