Bias

To cheer up their depressed adopted daughter, Ashley Reid, my parents don't dare to treat me nicely. They've even locked me in a pitch-black room more than 700 times, just to put a smile on her face. At first, they feel guilty toward me. But eventually, even my older brother, Liam Reid, who used to care for me the most, treats it like it's all perfectly reasonable. When Ashley's depression finally starts to ease, I work up the courage to kneel and beg them to seal off that room for good. But at her birthday party, simply because I'm wearing the only T-shirt I own, she starts tearing up and asks my parents if I don't like her. My parents and Liam rush to comfort her and, yet again, lock me away in that dark, endless room. "Summer, you're her elder sister. You have to be more considerate of her feelings." "If you hadn't insisted on wearing something so tacky for her birthday party, she wouldn't have gotten so upset." "You've gotten used to it after all these years, right? One more time won't matter to you." I curl up in the corner, gripping my hair, unable to say a word. Three days later, they finally let me out. They remind me not to upset Ashley again. But I just stare at them blankly. "Sorry, who are you?"

Before my crazy grandmother died, she gave me three walnuts. According to her last wish, I cracked open the first walnut on my twenty-fifth birthday. Inside the walnut was a slip of paper. 'Go to the skybridge and grovel at the first beggar you meet' was the instruction written on it. When I looked at the note, I could feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment. Still, I did as told. To my surprise, the beggar turned out to be an undercover cop. Only later did I learn that I had long been targeted by human traffickers, and the bow had saved my life. As for the second walnut, my grandmother told me to crack it open before I got married. When I put on my wedding dress, ready to marry the policeman who saved me, I happily opened it. This time, there was a crumpled old photograph inside. In the photo, my fiancé was smiling as he strangled another bride.

Rainy nights in Sicelia were always thick with the stench of rust and gunpowder. Rumors had circulated that the newly appointed Don of the Romano family, one of the most powerful mafia clans, had been badly disfigured in a fire. His temper had grown brutal, and three fiancées had already been driven to terror. When the news reached the Deluca family estate, my so-called sister had collapsed in tears and begged me to take her place and honor the engagement. I had watched her act in silence before kicking her to the floor. I had said calmly, "When I was brought back into this family, you were afraid of losing your status. You rushed to secure the marriage alliance to protect your position. Now that your fiancé is disfigured and you can't bear to face that scarred monster, you want to shove me into the flames instead?" At that moment, my childhood sweetheart had burst through the door. He bent down and helped my fake sister to her feet, his concern plain to see. "Elena, don't be so ungrateful," he snapped. "This marriage was yours from the beginning. Now it's simply returning to its rightful owner. Tomorrow, I'll be holding a grand wedding with Rosa. As for you, you can obediently go and serve that monster." My parents had stormed in as well, pointing at me and cursing without restraint. As I looked at the selfish faces before me, I drew a slow breath. Resolve hardened in my eyes. "Fine," I had said quietly. "Then all of you can come down to hell with me."

On the seventh year of our anniversary, the anniversary gift my husband, Anthony Walker, has given me is a divorce agreement that is valid for seven days. He has planned all this just because he has his eye on a female intern in his company, who is seven years younger than him. So, he wants to be in a legitimate relationship with her that only lasts for seven days. On the first day, they reserve an entire cinema for themselves. After that, they make love to each other from the doorway to the seats. On the second day, they set off fireworks at the beach. The fireworks are so bright that half of the city is illuminated by them. On the fifth day, the intern, Tanya Lindt, barges into my art exhibition. With tears running down her face, she accuses me of being the side chick in her relationship in front of the mass media. That night, news of a rising female painter becoming a homewrecker for the sake of love goes viral. More than 100 thousand malicious comments directed at me are posted in the comment section. On the sixth day, Anthony apologizes to me on Tanya's behalf. Apparently, the punishment he has set for her is that she's not allowed to go shopping for three days. On the seventh day, Anthony finally realizes that something is wrong. He calls me 99 times just to remind me that we'll get remarried the next day. "Okay," I say to him. Then, I inform my assistant to check in my baggage. What Anthony doesn't know is that I already came up with a plan to further my studies overseas seven days ago. This time, I'm not going to waste my time on him anymore.

The day I died was the same day as my twin sister’s birthday party. She was in tears and was wrapped up in my boyfriend’s arms. My mom was seething with anger and kept calling me over and over again. My brother was clearly upset and sent me a text saying, "You’re so selfish. You just can’t stand to see anyone else happy." Even my usually quiet dad was furious and said, "She’s nothing but an ungrateful brat." I touched my chest. Thankfully, it did not hurt anymore.

Sylvia Frost and Victor Rothwell's wedding had been postponed 33 times. This time, it happened on the night before the ceremony. She was struck by a car and left with 19 broken bones. She was rushed to the ICU three separate times before her condition finally stabilized. Once she was strong enough to leave her bed, she braced herself against the wall and shuffled into the hallway. As she reached the corner, she overheard her fiancé speaking with a friend. "Last time it was drowning. This time you used a car. That gets you another two months. What are you going to do next?" Sylvia's blood turned to ice. Victor stood there in his white coat, his phone turning slowly in his hand. "No more delays." His voice remained flat.

A love affair between two unlikely fellows because of the huge differences in their religion, culture and tribe. The two strange fellows met in a national youth service scheme after graduating from the university. It was love at first sight. But from a distance the love brewed till their paths crossed. Everything nearly fall apart if not that they were meant be. Destiny has a way of orchestrating events. They had no option than to tell themselves the truth which is that happiness lies with both of them coming together as one. But to make this happen the two had to wrestle down the tribal hatred, the religious acrimony, the cultural bias that nearly shattered their love. It's romantic, it's intriguing, it's fascinating, it's titillating and captivating.

I was diagnosed with Neurogenic Wolf Spirit Atrophy. In half a month, I would be dead. The day I received the diagnosis, I decided to give up treatment and donate my body to the Central Research Institute after my death. Through the mind link, I reached out to my brother, whom I hadn’t seen in six years, hoping he would help me sign the papers. He sneered and cut off the link without any hesitation. With the Spirit Severance Donation Contract, a formal waiver of my right to have my wolf spirit returned to my pack's sacred grounds after death, I crossed countless territories alone to the high-ranking city where he resided. He had been promoted to commander of the Silverfang Patrol, basking in glory. He casually signed the document without even looking at me, then said with chilling indifference, “Don’t ever come to me again. Given how ungrateful you are, I can't be bothered to give you a proper burial." I nodded lightly. “I understand.” He did not know that the money for his treatments in the past years had come from me. Now, there were only seven days left until my death.

After my rebirth, the very first thing I did was ride from one blood donation van to another, giving blood until I nearly collapsed. Why? Because in my previous life, my fiancé's newly hired intern, Shirley Lynch, had bound herself to a blood-exchange system. Every milliliter she donated was siphoned directly from my own veins. In just a month, she transformed from an ordinary college girl into the nation's beloved Blood Angel, showered with fame and fortune, while I, suffering from severe anemia, was fired from the hospital for being unable to work. When I exposed her scheme to my fiancé, he looked at me with disgust and broke off our engagement. "You're selfish and cowardly," he sneered. "You refuse to donate your rare blood type, and now you slander Shirley? You call yourself a doctor, yet you believe in such ridiculous nonsense!" From then on, every time Shirley donated blood, I would suffer heart palpitations, dizziness, and sometimes collapse outright. I begged the doctors in my department for help, but my fiancé blocked every attempt, accusing me of jealousy and wasting medical resources. In the end, to steal my promotion ahead of schedule, Shirley donated a full 1000 milliliters of blood live on television. As her blood drained, so did mine. I went into shock and died. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day Shirley first claimed she carried my rare blood type.

My boyfriend did not like my big chest. He gave me five hundred thousand dollars to go for a breast reduction surgery. At the same time, a mystery man suddenly transferred me five million dollars with a note telling me not to listen to my boyfriend. I gripped my phone tightly and secretly replied to my boyfriend’s best friend’s text message. [If you want me to listen to you, money is not enough.] He immediately texted back. [What are you saying? I don’t understand.] I replied. [Forget about it. I’m heading to the hospital now.] As expected, he got anxious. [What else do you want?] [Do you have 7 inches?] [I have 10 inches.] [I won’t believe you until I see it for myself.] After that, he proved it to me through his actions.