The Lawyer Who Disappeared

The stifling heat of my dorm room was the first sign. It clung to me like a wet blanket, a stark contrast to the cool relief of the hallway. Then came the sharp voice, Olivia' s, followed by the others, demanding I turn off the AC I' d just turned on. "Turn that off." "Yeah, turn it off. It' s freezing." They seemed unaffected, even as I sweltered. Then came the electricity bill: an exorbitant $485.62, more than double last month, which they insisted I pay, all of it. "What' s the matter, Chloe? Can' t afford it? I thought your family was rich." It was a blatant lie, a twisted mockery of my efforts to be fair, to be liked. The feeling of pure injustice burned within me. What had I done to deserve this escalating torment? "You're our personal ATM, Chloe. And we're not done making withdrawals." They weren't just taking my money; they were stripping away my dignity, piece by piece. My phone-my only lifeline-was next, then a brutal beating, culminating in my terrifying imprisonment in a dark, foul-smelling closet. My own father, Mr. Thompson, the university trustee, was just outside. He heard the fabricated lies, the slander about my character, and believed them, leaving me in that dark place, thinking he' d abandoned me. His quiet departure, the click of the door, felt like the end. But a final, desperate sound, a frantic phone call from my best friend Jessica, pierced through the despair, and then the thundering demand of my father' s voice, now raw with panic: "Open this door!" My fight for survival was just beginning.

"Lily, you should do it," Tiffany Hayes purred, her eyes fixed on me in the art academy' s lounge. As the scholarship student, managing our class' s two-million-dollar art fund seemed like a twisted honor, a responsibility the elite kids conveniently dodged. Three years later, at our graduation exhibition-the night my life' s work was finally displayed-my childhood friend, Mark Miller, seized the microphone. "Our class art fund has been mismanaged," he announced, his gaze piercing me. "One point eight million dollars is missing." The dreams I had meticulously built shattered. Every eye in the buzzing gallery turned to me, judging, accusing. Tiffany, Mark' s girlfriend, stood by his side, her feigned sympathy a cold knife twisting inside me. They stripped me bare, painting me a thief, a public spectacle. "I have records of everything," I insisted. "Every dollar is accounted for!" But the projection screen behind him flashed a balance of $1,250.34, sealing my fate. "Just tell us what you did with the money," Tiffany cooed, trying to lure out a confession. "We were friends." Friends? Their betrayal burned hotter than any accusation. They had done this. Set me up. Framed me. The rage and humiliation were suffocating, but a cold resolve began to crystallize within me. They thought they had broken me, but they had just ignited a fire. I walked out of the gallery that night, not in defeat, but with a fierce determination. I would find the truth. I would expose them. And they would pay.

The smell of smoke and burning wood woke me, my heart pounding. It was the same fire, the one that had consumed everything in my first life. But this time, Kaelen was alive, his silver eyes narrowed, not in concern for me, but in a frantic search for Lyra. He accused me of setting the blaze, demanding I save her with my own lifeblood, forcing the agonizing transfusion while she smirked, thriving on my pain and his blind devotion. How could he believe her lies, even as I sacrificed everything, again and again, for the very life he now blamed me for saving? Then, the memory hit me: Kaelen, dying in my past life, his last breath a bitter regret not for Lyra, but for me. This second chance wasn't just about saving him from fire, but from himself, from the painful, world-shattering regret that had haunted his dying eyes.

The antiseptic smell stung my nose, and a dull ache pulsed behind my eyes as I woke up in a hospital bed. A sharp voice cut through the quiet: "She\'s awake. After all that drama, she finally decides to wake up." It was my adoptive mother, Helen, with my father, David, and then Liam, my husband, walked in. They weren\'t there for me; they were worried sick about Scarlett, my stepsister, who lay pale and fragile just a few rooms away. "You almost died trying to get Liam\'s attention again, " Helen sneered. "Are you happy now?" Liam, meanwhile, looked at me with chilling indifference before grabbing my arm and dragging me to donate blood for Scarlett. The nurses whispered about my supposed obsession, but their words meant nothing; the pain, the desperation, it was all gone. My amnesia had wiped the slate clean, and for the first time, I saw the truth: I was a burden, a wife Liam didn\'t want, an obligation they resented. And for the first time, I felt clarity, not sorrow. I picked up my phone, found a number, and then said, "I want a divorce. And I want to sever all ties with my adoptive parents, the Hayes family."

My relationship with Liam was a twenty-year slow burn, a homecoming everyone called perfect and meant to be. Then, scrolling through my phone one Tuesday night, an anonymous post on a local gossip forum shattered that illusion. It was a gushing narrative from a girl named Olivia, detailing secret meetings and gifts from a business school charmer-the same limited-edition sneakers I' d seen Liam coveting, the ones he told me were sold out. Beneath it, a comment read, "He even lied to his clingy childhood friend 'girlfriend' that they were sold out just so he could surprise me. He says he\'s only with her because his parents like her." Clingy childhood friend. The words felt like a punch, blurring my vision. My heart raced as I dialed Liam, his warm greeting a stark contrast to the betrayal I' d uncovered. He lied about the sneakers, easily, poorly, confirming my worst fears. His flimsy denial crumbled when I confronted him with Olivia' s account, his "nervous edge" a stark contrast to my unwavering fury. My best friend Maya' s warning echoed: "I don\'t trust him, Chloe. The way he was looking at her... it wasn\'t friendly." How stupid I felt for defending him. Then, the final blow: Olivia' s public profile, a cascade of photos-his hand in hers, his familiar smile reserved for her, captioned "My one and only. Soon the whole world will know." Posted just an hour ago. The heartbreak was physical, but beneath it, a cold, sharp anger stirred. This wasn't a misunderstanding; it was a cruel, deliberate deception. I hung up, no more lies needed, meeting my own clear gaze in the dark phone screen. I was no longer just a heartbroken girl; I was a girl who had been played for a fool, and I would not let him get away with it.

The sterile white walls of Liam's penthouse, a gilded cage masquerading as my studio, stifled me. Every painting, every breath, belonged to him. Then, a cold, glowing message appeared in my vision: `[Muse System Activated. Main Task: Sever the parasitic relationship with Liam.]` My secret guide had arrived. Its first sub-quest: `[Facilitate the marriage between Liam and his childhood sweetheart, Scarlett.]` This was my way out. I became the perfect, pliant artist, orchestrating his reunion with the sophisticated art critic he truly desired. I endured her disdain, even painting her tributes to feed his obsession. The night of the Art Gala, I felt unwell, my head spinning from stress. As I steadied myself by an ice sculpture, Scarlett deliberately bumped me. I stumbled, and a piece of the sculpture crashed down, narrowly missing her. She screamed, accusing me of jealousy, of trying to hurt her. Liam, his rage burning, pulled her into his arms, completely ignoring me. `"Chloe! What the hell did you do?"` he snarled. The crowd's murmurs turned into accusations, judging me the crazy, jealous mistress. A familiar cramping seized my stomach, and I doubled over in searing pain. Blood trickled down my leg, a dark stain on my light dress. I was having a miscarriage, a life I didn't even know I carried. Liam dragged me to his car, ` "Can' t you go one night without making a scene?" ` he hissed, before abandoning me in the parking lot to return to Scarlett. The system confirmed my loss: `[Pregnancy terminated due to physical trauma.]` I realized then: this wasn't just neglect. It was calculated cruelty, a test from Scarlett to see how far he'd go for her. And he had passed. His utter indifference, his willingness to sacrifice me, ignited a cold fury. I would still get them together. But this time, it wouldn' t be for his happiness. It would be for my ultimate, painful freedom.

Joelle thought she could change Adrian's heart after three years of marriage, but she realized too late that it already belonged to another woman. "Give me a baby, and I'll set you free." The day Joelle went into labor, Adrian was traveling with his mistress on his private jet. "I don't care whom you love. My debt is paid. From now on, we have nothing to do with each other." Not long after Joelle left, Adrian found himself begging on his knees. "Please come back to me."

Katherine endured mistreatment for three years as Julian's wife, sacrificing everything for love. But when his sister drugged her and sent her to a client's bed, Katherine finally snapped. She left behind divorce papers, walking away from the toxic marriage. Years later, Katherine returned as a radiant star with the world at her feet. When Julian saw her again, he couldn't ignore the uncanny resemblance between her new love and himself. He had been nothing but a stand-in for someone else. Desperate to make sense of the past, Julian pressed Katherine, asking, "Did I mean nothing to you?"

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."

There was only one man in Raegan's heart, and it was Mitchel. In the second year of her marriage to him, she got pregnant. Raegan's joy knew no bounds. But before she could break the news to her husband, he served her divorce papers because he wanted to marry his first love. After an accident, Raegan lay in the pool of her own blood and called out to Mitchel for help. Unfortunately, he left with his first love in his arms. Raegan escaped death by the whiskers. Afterward, she decided to get her life back on track. Her name was everywhere years later. Mitchel became very uncomfortable. For some reason, he began to miss her. His heart ached when he saw her all smiles with another man. He crashed her wedding and fell to his knees while she was at the altar. With bloodshot eyes, he queried, "I thought you said your love for me is unbreakable? How come you are getting married to someone else? Come back to me!"

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!"

Elena, once a pampered heiress, suddenly lost everything when the real daughter framed her, her fiancé ridiculed her, and her adoptive parents threw her out. They all wanted to see her fall. But Elena unveiled her true identity: the heiress of a massive fortune, famed hacker, top jewelry designer, secret author, and gifted doctor. Horrified by her glorious comeback, her adoptive parents demanded half her newfound wealth. Elena exposed their cruelty and refused. Her ex pleaded for a second chance, but she scoffed, “Do you think you deserve it?” Then a powerful magnate gently proposed, “Marry me?”