Ying Luo

My wife, Elena, walked into the Grand Boardroom and placed a possessive hand on her lover's chest. Julian, a low-level associate I’d only hired as a favor to her, sat in my chair with his muddy boots on the polished mahogany table. He blew smoke in my face and laughed. "You're just a figurehead now, Dante. The Syndicate belongs to Elena. And since I'm the one keeping her happy at night, it belongs to me too." Elena looked at me with cold eyes, delivering the ultimate betrayal without a shred of remorse. "I'm pregnant, Dante. It's Julian's. We need the Moretti name for the baby, so sign the transfer papers and leave." She believed the power of attorney documents I signed while delirious with fever had given her my empire. She thought the mercenaries standing behind her were loyal to her checkbook. She truly believed she could fire a Don like a mid-level manager caught stealing office supplies. But she didn't know that in our world, loyalty isn't bought with stolen money. And she certainly didn't know what was actually in the leather folder she was holding. I looked at the traitor and the rat, feeling a strange, lethal sense of calm. "You want to talk about papers?" I tossed the real file onto the table, watching their smiles falter. "You didn't sign a transfer of power, Elena. You signed a Renunciation of Protection." I signaled my Enforcers, and the room exploded into motion. "Now," I said, staring at Julian's terrified face. "Let's see how much the streets respect you without my name."

On our fifth anniversary, I held the positive pregnancy test we' d prayed for. I cooked his favorite meal, but my husband, Dante, never came home. He was working late with his campaign manager, Kamala. The stress of his cold texts and her smug Instagram post sent a sharp, twisting pain through my stomach. I collapsed on the floor, bleeding. When I called him from the hospital, he accused me of faking it for attention. "What is it this time? A headache?" he sneered. "You'll do anything for attention, won't you?" The next day, he dragged me to a party to celebrate Kamala. In front of everyone, he tried to force whiskey down my throat. The stress, the fall… it was too much. I lost our miracle baby right there on the gallery floor. His apology was bringing me pepperoni pizza in my hospital bed. I'm allergic to pepperoni. It was the first thing I ever told him on our first date. He didn't remember that, but he knew Kamala preferred oat milk in her lattes. He had just proven he didn't deserve our child. He didn't even deserve me. When he finally showed up, his face a mask of fake concern, I looked him dead in the eye. "We're done. I want a divorce."

The police said Liam' s death was an accident, a car crash on an icy road. Simple. Final. But I knew better. Liam, the man I was going to marry, was murdered. And I knew who did it: his father, the tech titan Mr. Davis. Liam was a threat to his perfect legacy, so he erased him. My grief hardened into a quiet, burning rage. They thought I was just a broken girlfriend, but I was going to be the architect of their ruin. The day after the funeral, I went to a tech gala. Ethan Davis, his legitimate son, was my key. I played the part of the devoted, yearning girl I' d pretended to be for years, a scheme Liam and I had meticulously planned to gather intel on his father. Ethan, oblivious, fell right into my trap, flattered by my "loyalty." My revenge began that night. My hands were steady on the wheel as I drove a drunken Ethan home, the gentle look on my face a lie. Everything was ready. The game had just begun. I became the unsuspecting fiancée, meticulously gathering evidence of his father' s corruption and murder. Ethan, blinded by his newfound love and a desire to prove himself, unknowingly handed me the tools of his family' s destruction. The day he proposed, his world crumbled. His father was arrested for commercial fraud and murder. His mother, exposed and disgraced, jumped to her death. Ethan was left shattered, realizing too late he was nothing but a pawn. His family' s ruin was complete, but I discovered my victory felt hollow. Yet, when a car careened towards me, Ethan, the man I' d meticulously destroyed, shoved me out of the way, taking the full impact himself. He survived, but the man who emerged from the hospital was a stranger. Ethan, robbed of everything, finally understood he was merely an obstacle to the happiness Liam and I deserved. He chose to leave, a ghost of his former self. Now, I sit in Mr. Davis' s old office, the new CEO of Miller Corp, having systematically dismantled every last piece of the Davis empire. My revenge is complete, but the overwhelming emptiness echoes in the opulent space, leaving me with only the phantom memory of Liam and Ethan's discarded engagement ring on my desk-a cold testament to a brutal victory.

I remember dying. Not from the Crimson Scourge, but from the mob, their faces twisted with rage. They called me "murderer," believing the lies my husband, Mark Jensen, fed them. He claimed I was holding back the cure while accepting humanitarian awards, a hero to the world, a monster to me. The irony choked me, thicker than the blood in my mouth. I had the universal vaccine, the one that could have saved everyone, but he buried it-and me-for profit. My final thought wasn't of my lost family, but of his betrayal, the only thing real in my last agonizing moments. Then, nothing. Until now. I blinked, the harsh fluorescent lights of a conference room burning my eyes. I was back, a year younger, untouched. It was the day Mark would announce "unforeseen delays" for the vaccine, the day his lies truly began. He stood at the podium, smooth and confident, introducing me, his "brilliant wife," Dr. Evelyn Reed, with a patronizing smile. In my last life, I' d stood there meekly, trusting him despite bitter disappointment. Not this time. "He's lying," my voice cut through the room like shattered glass, every head snapping my way. Mark's smile faltered, his eyes warning me, "My wife is a perfectionist. She' s never satisfied." Alana Vance, his ambitious consultant, chimed in with fake concern, "Evelyn, are you feeling alright? You' ve been working so hard." It was the same condescending script. I remembered giving up a global award for his fragile ego, only for him to criticize my research a week later. The sacrifice forgotten, a weapon in his hand. But this rebirth was a chance. A cold calm settled over me. "No, Mark," I said, my voice clear and steady, loud enough for every microphone. "I think we need to discuss this right now." I stepped away from the wall, away from the role of the supportive wife, into the light. "I' m done."

My name is Jennifer Johns, and for twenty years, I poured my life, my love, and every dollar into raising my best friend' s children as my own. I did it because their mother, Sabrina, supposedly died of cancer, and her last wish was for me to protect them. Then, my adoptive daughter, Molly, stood before a judge and accused my husband, Andrew, of sexually abusing her for years. Andrew was convicted and died in prison. My adoptive son, Caleb, had me committed to a psychiatric facility, where I died, utterly broken and alone. Shortly after, the ghost of my best friend, Sabrina, walked onto a national talk show, alive and well, pointing at the camera and screaming, "I trusted you! And you let your sick husband use them!" My heart shattered, my reputation ruined, and my life extinguished by the very people I sacrificed everything for. How could I have been so blind, so foolish? The betrayal tore me apart, the injustice a gaping wound that never healed. Until I wasn't dead. I jolted awake with a gasp in my own bed, the phantom touch of restraints still clinging to my wrists. Andrew was next to me, his eyes mirroring the horror in mine. And then, the doorbell rang. Sabrina was here, alive, poised to reel me in with her same cruel lie – but this time, Andrew and I remembered everything. This time, we were ready to fight back. This time, we would write our own ending.

The smell of roasting corn and sweet wine usually filled me with joy at the Starlight Grove' s Grape Harvest Festival. I was living a simple life, a farmhand on my own vineyard, teaching my son Caleb the value of hard work and humility. But that day, a single pastry, laced with walnuts, turned my world into a nightmare. Caleb, my ten-year-old, lay dying in my arms, struggling to breathe, his body going rigid from a severe allergic reaction. I plunged the EpiPen into his thigh, but his breaths grew weaker, his lips turning blue. I screamed for help, pushing through the dense crowd towards the main gate where the ambulance was arriving, Caleb' s dead weight heavy in my arms. But the festival' s head of security, Barney Fowler, blocked our path at the VIP exit, demanding a $500 "convenience fee" per person to let us through. Then, he stopped the ambulance itself, holding it hostage for a $1,500 "commercial vehicle entry fee." He grinned, knowing I was desperate and had no choice but to pay. I transferred the money, my hands shaking, my son' s life ticking away. Just when the ambulance finally lurched forward, a horrifying, high-pitched tone cut through the air from inside-Caleb' s heart monitor flatlining. The next words from the doctor shattered my soul: "The delay… his brain was deprived of oxygen. The damage is extensive. And irreversible." My brilliant, vibrant son reduced to a vegetative state, all because of a man' s greed and a few stolen minutes. It was my fault; I created this charade. But guilt quickly transformed into a cold, burning rage. The struggling farmhand disappeared, replaced by the owner of Starlight Grove, and I knew exactly what I had to do. Barney Fowler and his nephew, Wesley, were about to discover who they had truly extorted.

I played the broke NYU art student, secretly Hailey Voss, tech empire heiress, tired of fakes. My crush, Caleb, a famously poor artist, seemed different. So, I lured him to rent a room in my lavish SoHo loft with a twisted, shirtless discount. I reveled in this unusual power game. Then my world imploded. My stepfather, Richard, orchestrated a hostile takeover, bankrupting my mother's company overnight. I lost everything-my fortune, identity, my home. Suddenly, I was genuinely penniless; credit cards useless, trust fund frozen. The next day, "broke" Caleb bought my multi-million dollar loft for cash, flipping our game. He offered me a room, teasing I'd now be topless for rent. Publicly humiliated by Brody, my old tormentor, I felt completely broken, cash thrown at my feet. How did Caleb have millions? Why play my charade? How was Hailey Voss, the heiress, so utterly powerless and abandoned? Blindsided and distraught, my life lay in ruins. Then, alone and desperate in Washington Square Park, a black Escalade appeared. Out stepped Caleb, in a tailored suit, flanked by security, not torn jeans. He faced Brody, voice cold: "You just put your hands on my future wife." My "broke artist" was Caleb Astor, heir to a real estate dynasty, and our unexpected story was just beginning.

I was Sarah Miller, a junior architect, on the cusp of a life-changing promotion, meticulously crafting a future I believed was mine. But then, like a phantom limb ache, the terrifying memory hit: my "father," David, barging into my review, screaming baseless accusations of kickbacks. In my first life, this was only the beginning, the calculated unraveling of everything I held dear. My entire "family"-David, my "mother" Susan, "Grandma" Carol-systematically dismantled my reputation, framing me for identity theft, driving me into mountains of phantom debt. Their biological daughter, Jess, the "roommate" I thought was a friend, gleefully joined their schemes, twisting the knife. I was relentlessly doxxed, blacklisted from my profession, and ultimately met a brutal, senseless end in a hit-and-run. I died, my last conscious thought a haunting question: Why? Why did the people who raised me orchestrate such a relentless, professional campaign to destroy my life? The sheer depth of their calculated malice went beyond mere familial dysfunction; it foreshadowed a sinister, hidden truth far more profound than I could have imagined. But now, I'm back. It's the very same morning, the same inescapable dread, but this time, the grim knowledge has become my power. I remember every trap, every lie, every betrayal they planned. They believed they had broken me irrevocably once. They're about to discover that their carefully constructed world of deceit, built upon my stolen identity, is on the verge of spectacular collapse. Because this time, I'm not just surviving; I'm fighting back to expose every single one of their fraudulent secrets, and to reclaim the life that was always rightfully mine.

My carefully constructed world was perfect, the epitome of the American dream. My son, Sam, was graduating high school, Yale-bound, smart, kind-the culmination of everything I' d worked for. Surrounded by loved ones in our sprawling Hamptons-esque garden, I handed him a substantial stock trust from his late father, a solid foundation for his brilliant future. Then, Darlene Pickett, our former housekeeper, burst through the wrought-iron gates, her face contorted with grotesque rage. She dragged a small, disheveled boy beside her, pointing a trembling finger at my son. "He's not Eleanor's son!" she shrieked for everyone to hear. "He's mine! And this," she thrust the other boy forward, "this is Daniel Ainsworth! Your real son, Eleanor! I swapped them eighteen years ago, in that hospital!" A collective gasp echoed across the stunned crowd as my beautiful day-and carefully curated life-shattered. But the horror deepened as Darlene, her husband, and even her daughter openly gloated about the years of systematic neglect and brutal abuse they'd inflicted on Danny, the boy they thought was mine, detailing every scar and broken bone with chilling pride. My heart clenched, not in fear of public ruin, but at the raw depravity laid bare. Sam, bewildered and utterly disgusted, turned to me, his eyes pleading, "Mom? What are they talking about?" He couldn't fathom such cruelty, begging me to say it wasn't true, that they were all insane. They demanded DNA tests to prove their twisted, greedy claim. And I, with an icy calm that surprised even me, simply replied, "Very well. We'll arrange for them immediately." Because what they didn't-couldn't-know was that I had been waiting patiently for this exact moment for eighteen long years.

Five years of silence had turned my marriage into a tomb. My husband, Ethan, a brilliant CEO, was a stranger. I decided to leave, taking our six-year-old son, Leo. We couldn't live like that anymore. But as we drove away, a blinding light erupted. Then, darkness. The 'accident' left Leo with one eye gone, and me, a kidney missing. Guilt consumed me; I blamed myself for leaving. Ethan, the 'devoted' husband, played his part on live TV, begging for 100 days to prove his love. Broken and weak, I believed him. So I agreed. Day ninety-nine arrived. I overheard Ethan's voice, casual and chilling, from his study. He was talking to Dr. Peterson, the surgeon. Not about a car crash, but about harvesting. My son's eye, my kidney – taken. For Chloe, his mistress, and her son, Liam. The 'accident' was deliberate, a monstrous organ farm. My world tilted, my trust shattered. The man who' d begged for my forgiveness had butchered us for his affair. He brought his new 'family' into our home, and when I reacted to their cruelty, his hand struck me. That brutal slap, Leo's horrified, awakened face – it ignited a cold, black fury. This was no longer about leaving.This was about retribution.And I knew exactly what I had to do.

The coppery taste of blood was a phantom memory, chilling me to the bone as I jolted awake. I knew this day; it was etched into my soul, the day Red Rock burned and I died at Mike’s hand, a forgotten casualty of his reckless ego. This time, I wouldn’t just watch; I’d save Red Rock, starting with the town alarm, a desperate wail echoed by my pounding heart. But the school bus, our only way out for the women and children, was gone, along with the men and our best guns. Mike had taken them, miles away, for a lavish birthday party for his new girlfriend, Lila, completely abandoning us. He’d stripped us of our last hope, dismissing my desperate warnings as cheap jealousy, leaving us vulnerable to the marauding Vulture gang, who were already tearing our town apart. Even his own sister, Chloe, was slapped by him and sent back when she tried to warn him. Later, fiercely pregnant, I rode out alone for help, only to be intercepted by Jake, Mike’s blindly loyal deputy, who, brainwashed, believed my pleas were lies. He dragged me, bound, to their drunken desert party, where Mike publicly humiliated me, forcing me to watch while our homes turned to ash. How could Mike be so blind, so cruel, sacrificing everyone for a frivolous celebration? My agony intensified when Red Rock lay in ruins; Mike, feigning shock, turned the mob’s grief and rage onto me, blaming me for everything. They descended, a blur of fists and kicks, until a searing, tearing pain in my belly confirmed my worst fear: my baby, violently ripped from me. But this time, I wouldn't die in silent despair. As life drained from me, Chloe appeared, a small, defiant beacon, exposing Mike's selfish lies and turning the tide of vengeance. This time, Mike, you wouldn't get away with it.

My name is Ethan Prescott, scion of a powerful family, destined for a life groomed by expectation. My future was mapped out: marry Victoria Sterling, secure the Prescott legacy, forge a formidable alliance. But then I met Sarah, a bright, real woman who painted harbors and loved the sea. She awakened a truth in me that transcended wealth and duty, and I promised her a future, vowing to defy my iron-willed mother, Eleanor. But Eleanor's ultimatum crashed down, a brutal choice: marry Victoria and save my family's name, or watch Sarah's world crumble, utterly destroyed. I caved, clinging to a twisted compromise: marry Victoria, give them an heir, then we'd be free. What began as a desperate hope became a living nightmare. I stood by, powerless, as Victoria’s calculated lies smeared Sarah, accusing her of crimes, orchestrating public humiliations, even leading to physical assault at my mother's command. I watched Sarah’s spirit break, her belief in me shatter, all while I built a public facade of a perfect family with Victoria and our children, Lily and Daniel. Each "temporary" sacrifice I made was a new knife in her heart. How could I, the man who swore to protect her, become the architect of her deepest agony? Each decision fueled by fear, each broken promise, only cemented my role as her tormentor, crushing the very soul I claimed to love. I was a fool, chained by duty, believing my elaborate ruse protected her, when in reality, it was destroying her. But just as I stood at the altar, moments from sealing my public fate with Victoria, the horrifying truth erupted. I heard Victoria's chilling confessions of pure manipulation—the fake illnesses, the staged "accidents," even her "miscarriage"—and my own mother's cold admission of forcibly banishing Sarah. Now, the scales have fallen from my eyes. I know the depths of their deceit, and I will tear down their empire to find Sarah and reckon with the ghosts of my unforgivable past.

Amy, a gifted chef, poured two days into a perfect Thanksgiving feast, hoping to heal her fractured family. But her husband, Rich, arrived with his mistress, Veronica, who immediately dismissed Amy's efforts with a store-bought pie. Over dinner, both Rich and Veronica openly ridiculed Amy's traditional cooking as "quaint" and "not modern," while her own daughter, Lily, eagerly chose Veronica's sugary dessert over her mother's cake. This blatant disregard was a harsh blow, amplified later when Amy discovered her new business ideas were being stolen and flaunted by Veronica with Rich's complicity. The ultimate betrayal came when Amy saw Veronica flaunting the engraved anniversary watch Amy had secretly bought for Rich, now on Veronica's wrist. How could the man she had loved, the father of her child, weaponize her dreams and her love against her so cruelly? The raw humiliation became a searing anger, pushing Amy to the edge of despair, yet sparking a ferocious resolve. Just as Amy fought to rebuild her life from the ashes of betrayal, launching her own bakery, Rich and Veronica destroyed it again, meticulously trashing her new shop and stealing her grandmother’s precious recipe book. This was the final straw. It wasn't just about revenge anymore; it was about reclaiming her legacy.

Maggie's tea-making skills at the nightclub were unmatched. She was loved by so many guests for her incredible talents. She was like a lotus blooming in the mud. She had become a local treasure that couldn't be knocked off her pedestal. However, the more untouchable this white lotus was, the more men wanted a taste of her. She attracted almost anyone, including Seamus’s father. Seamus never expected his father to marry a simple tea lady! He wanted to find out for himself, what was so special. A simple taste of this enchantress was enough. Her sweetness was addictive, and he had no choice but to take her in as his secret lover.

I sat in the freezing conference room, my knuckles white as I strangled a cheap plastic pen. Outside, Manhattan was weeping in the gray rain, but inside, the air was sterile and dead. I stared at the polished mahogany table, seeing the distorted reflection of a man who hadn't slept in forty-eight hours—a man about to sign his own divorce papers. Across from me, my wife Linda wouldn't even look at me. She was too busy drumming her fingers near a diamond ring that cost more than I had made in the last five years combined. Then the door swung open, and Simon Thorne walked in. The billionaire heir didn't say a word; he just walked behind Linda and placed a heavy, possessive hand on her shoulder, marking her as his. "Let's wrap this up," Simon said, checking his Patek Philippe with the bored tone of a man ordering a coffee he didn't want. Linda finally looked through me like I was a ghost and told me to stop dragging this out. She whispered that I couldn't even afford myself anymore, a physical punch to the gut given I’d lost my job three weeks ago. After I signed, Simon flicked a business card at me, mockingly offering me a job as a doorman for minimum wage. I walked out into the downpour, shivering in a suit I couldn't afford to dry clean. My phone vibrated with a text from my landlord: "Pack your things. Keys by tonight or I’m calling the cops." I stood on the corner of 5th Avenue with exactly $42.18 to my name, watching Simon kiss my wife through the glass wall of the penthouse. I was thirty, homeless, and drowning in a city of lions. I wanted to roar until my throat bled, but I just stood there, a drowned rat in a world of predators. How could I have lost everything so fast? Why was the woman who promised to stay through "for poorer" now leaning into the arms of the man who just humiliated me? Suddenly, my phone screen exploded with a blinding golden light. An app called the Midas Protocol installed itself, declaring poverty a disease and itself the cure. With one tap, a million dollars bypassed a federal hold and hit my account, and a "Nemesis Card" appeared in my digital inventory. I didn't hesitate. I typed Simon Thorne’s name into the vengeance algorithm and hit execute. The game had officially changed.

"Never let anyone treat you like shit!" I learned that the hard way. For three years, I lived with my in-laws. They didn't treat me as their son-in-law but as a slave. I put up with everything because of my wife, Yolanda Lambert. She was the light of my life. Unfortunately, my whole world came crashing down the day I caught my wife cheating on me. I have never been so heartbroken. To have my revenge, I revealed my true identity. I was none other than Liam Hoffman-the heir of a family with trillions of dollars in assets! The Lamberts were utterly shocked after the big reveal. They realized what fools they had been for treating me like trash. My wife even knelt down and begged for my forgiveness. What do you think I did? Did I take her back or made her suffer? Find out!

Victor Damone's in-laws stole his life savings, convinced his beautiful wife he was a loser, and urged her to date a billionaire outside of marriage. When the bankrupt Victor fails to pay for his dying grandfather's treatment, he decides to return to his mysterious old life. One in which the entire world kneels before him. Victor will show his in-laws and everyone who underestimated him that he is a legendary, peerless man with a thousand gifts.

Poverty is a terrible disease. Most humans want to be wealthy. Are you also one of them? Well, I'm one of those few people who don't love money. I believe that there was more to life than money. Money can't buy happiness. At least, that was what I thought until life happened. My mother became terminally ill and life became more unbearable for me. It was the lowest point of my life. To make matters worse, my so-called girlfriend dumped me for a rich guy. She wrote me off by saying I would never make it. I plunged into an abyss of despair and hoped that I had enough money to treat my mother and also prove my ex-girlfriend wrong. It was at this time that my mother ordered me to break the jade bracelet she had never taken off her wrist since I was born. Like magic, it triggered an alarm and my biological father found me. I was actually the long-lost heir of a wealthy family. In the blink of an eye, I went from being a pauper to being the heir to a trillion-dollar business empire. I became famous and influential. My tears were wiped away overnight. I was on top of the world! All the people that looked down on me now wanted to be associated with me. The wicked girl that broke my heart also tried to reconcile with me. Do you think I would take her back? Or would I find my one true love? Do you want to find out how I went missing and found my way back? Would I forgive my enemies? And would this new life be favorable for me?

Life was straightforward for Dominik, or so he thought. He ruled over a prison housing thousands of cunning and ambitious individuals. There was little to no drama, but one day, his fiancee, who already held a high-ranking position in the military, casually tore up their marriage contract and threw it in his face. It was not until then that he realized... As he stepped out of his corner, a whole new story unfolded that would shock everyone. Wanna follow Dominik on this journey?

Five years ago, he upped and left his wife without informing her. He had always felt unworthy. As a result, he decided to go and become a better man. It took him five whole years of daily hard work. When he was satisfied, he returned as a powerful and honorable man. He intended to start a family with his wife. But he got back to meet the greatest shocker of his life. He actually had a daughter!

"Get lost, you church rat. I don't know what I was thinking when I agreed to date you. Don't show up in front of me again. I'm done!" Brian's girlfriend insulted him and broke up with him at school. He had just caught her cheating on him. Instead of apologizing, she humiliated him in front of everyone. Were poor men unworthy of respect? Nonsense! Brian was unwilling to accept that. He swore to make a fortune and have his revenge. On the same day, he received a call from his family housekeeper. "Congratulations, Mr. Tennant! Your trial has ended. You will no longer live a life of penury. The funds for your upkeep yearly have been deposited in Citibank. Go there and check them." Brian felt that the money in question was only a few thousand dollars. He didn't see the reason why he had to go to the bank to check. To the best of his knowledge, his family's business was only worth about ten million dollars. But he soon realized that he was wrong. There was a lot of cash, gold, and jewelry when he opened the vault assigned to him in the bank. It turned out that his family had a trillion-dollar empire! Now he could have his revenge!

Travis's world is shattered when his girlfriend Abigail dumps him for a wealthy playboy, Calvin, and humiliates him in public. But just as Travis is about to lose hope, a mysterious entity, the Grand System, appears, offering him a chance to turn his life around and become rich and famous. Will Travis accept the offer and embrace the unknown, or will he let his past define him?

For love, Nolan swallowed his pride as a man and lived with his wife's family for three years. He did everything to please them even though everyone looked down on him. Nolan had high hopes that he would be happy with his wife one day, but it all ended in tears after she betrayed him. It wasn't until later that everyone discovered his true identity. Nolan was actually the heir to a big empire and a billionaire tycoon. Realizing her stupidity, his mother-in-law who always maltreated him desperately pleaded for mercy. "Let bygones be bygones, Nolan. Love is all about forgiving, right? You should make up with my daughter. She's the perfect woman for you." Nolan saw through this greedy woman. What choice would he make?

My family was on the poverty line and had no way to support me in college. I had to work part-time every day just to make ends meet and afford to get into the university. That was when I met her—the pretty girl in my class that every boy dreamt of asking out. I was well aware she was out of my league. Nevertheless, I mustered all my courage and bravely told her that I had fallen for her. To my surprise, she agreed to be my girlfriend. With the sweetest smile I had ever seen, she told me that she wanted my first gift for her to be the latest and top-of-the-line iPhone. I worked like a dog and even did my classmates’ laundry to save up. My hard work eventually paid off after a month. I finally got to buy what she wanted. But as I was wrapping my gift, I saw her in the dressing room, making out with the captain of the basketball team. She then heartlessly made fun of my inadequacy and made a fool out of me. To make things worse, the guy whom she cheated on me with even punched me in the face. Desperation washed over me, but there was nothing I could do but lie on the floor as they trampled on my feelings. But then, my father called me out of the blue, and my life turned upside down. It turned out that I was a billionaire's son.