On the first day of school, someone knocked over my milk tea, and then insisted I'd stained her clothes. She acted as if I couldn't possibly afford to compensate her, and even led others to believe she was the school director's daughter. I looked closely—the garment was clearly the one I'd accidentally stained and thrown away. Besides, when did I get a sister?

After getting engaged, my fiancé and his childhood friend started a company. Due to my busy work schedule, I hadn't visited his office yet. He talked about it constantly, though, especially his friend, Max. He was always going on about him. I hadn't met this Max, so naturally, I was curious. Whenever I asked about him, my fiancé, Elliot, would just casually say, "Max is my best friend from childhood. He was abroad and just recently came back. He's pretty busy. I'll introduce you when he has time." I believed him. If I hadn't had a sudden urge to visit their company and seen this "Max" with my own eyes, I wouldn't have known "he" was actually a "she."

My boyfriend dumped me for a richer woman, mocking my poverty as he left, with his colleagues joining in the chorus of derision. Back home, my distraught mother offered a surprising solution: my grandfather, owner of a massive corporation with a registered capital of one hundred billion dollars, wanted me to inherit his empire. The catch? I had to first serve as president of Horizon Enterprises, a subsidiary, for one month, with one billion dollars in operating capital. My task? Overhaul the company within that timeframe.

Kane had always been fascinated by hypnotism. I remember him practicing with another friend, but despite their professional-looking approach, they never seemed to achieve any tangible results. Kane had tried to hypnotize me once, but it hadn't worked. He just talked, and I remained awake and aware. It was relaxing, almost tranquil, easing my fatigue, but it wasn't hypnosis.

Sylvia, You Are Mine Sylvia, you are finally mine. I am so happy, both physically and emotionally. Are you happy too? Looking at the man pressing down on me, a tear of satisfaction rolled down my cheek. He gently licked away my tear and kissed my lips. The salty taste carried a hint of sweetness, reminiscent of happiness. I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck, guiding his kisses to my cheeks and chest. He possessed me forcefully, controlled me, and went mad for me. I responded enthusiastically, though I said nothing because I am mute.

The news of Aiden and I preparing to register our marriage spread like wildfire among our friends, and I was filled with joy, eagerly anticipating that day. Yet, just the day before, I received a text message from an unknown number. Opening it, I saw a video of him drinking and chatting with someone. Judging by the time, it seemed to be from winter, as they were still wearing sweaters, but now it was summer. "The needy only require a bit of charity, and they'll wholeheartedly be good to you." "I didn't expect her to be much easier to handle than I imagined." "With just a word, she'll do whatever I ask! The things she does are so childish, I don't even want to mention them."

The school principal was my ex. He looked at me sternly. “Your cousin?” “My son.” His stern expression slowly cracked. “Zoe, you're 22, your son is 16… were you pregnant at five?” I smiled calmly. “My husband was 48. It's not strange to have a 16-year-old son, is it?” Instantly, surprise, contempt, and anger mixed on his face like a palette. “How did you become like this?” I placed my newly bought LV bag on the table and tugged at my neckline slightly. “Director Lucas, for the right price, I could also…”

Five years into my marriage, everyone told me how lucky I was. A loving husband, an adorable son—our little family drew envious glances wherever we went. Then, two days ago, eight or nine photos of my husband, Ethan, half-naked and embracing his ex-girlfriend, were posted in our group chat. It was a bolt from the blue. I was stunned. Maya, a member of my shared chat with Olivia, had posted the photos, adding a cautionary message for the other wives. At first, I was puzzled, but when I recognized the man as Ethan, my blood boiled. Cautionary? Seriously?

I accidentally double-clicked the WeChat profile picture of my deceased crush, Mason. The interface displayed: *I patted 'Mason' and said, Can I kiss you?* Five minutes later, my crush replied: *Would your boyfriend be jealous?

I spent three years in an online relationship with Oscar, supporting him through his darkest days. But our first meeting marked the end of that “beautiful” memory. He was, quite simply, an accomplice in my bullying. When the truth surfaced, he subjected himself to the same treatment he’d once inflicted on me, hoping for my forgiveness. But forgiveness is a rare commodity in this cruel world. Wrong is wrong, just as the dead cannot be resurrected…