karma

My secretary replaced me on my wedding day, walking down the aisle in a white wedding gown. The man I had loved for ten years threw the bridesmaid dress in my face and ordered me to wear it instead. "She is the bride now. You'll be next," he said coldly. My grandmother was so furious that she fell ill on the spot. Meanwhile, he and the secretary smiled brightly as they completed the wedding ceremony. After the grand wedding, the secretary posted photos of herself in her wedding gown on social media. The comments were overwhelmingly congratulatory. [Today is such a beautiful day, I finally got what I wanted. I hope those who try to ruin someone else's relationship will wake up soon.] She wrote. Chester Morrison replied to her post: [It is a great day. Don't ruin your good mood by some trash.] When I returned home, holding my grandmother's photo, who had passed away, I found them tangled together on the bedspread my grandmother had lovingly sewn for me, the one with a pair of Swan that symbolizes eternal love.

After I studied and lived in Descensio for five years, I finally graduated and was ready to return to my home country to take over my dad's company. When I arrived at the Sullivan Group building, I took a picture and posted it on my Instagram story with the caption. 'Since you're the man I love most, I'm here to see you immediately after graduation.' Yet, a woman appeared out of nowhere and slapped me as soon as I arrived at the company's lobby. "It's her! She's the hussy! She had seduced my husband back in high school. Now that my husband has become the director, she shamelessly showed up here to flirt with him. So, I want you girls to beat her up. I'll take the blame if anything happens." While the woman was cooking up a story about me seducing Marcus Lane, a director of Sullivan Group, others around simply looked on coldly and judged me. She slashed my limited-edition bag to pieces and smashed the expensive seal I wanted to give my dad. "You're just a gold digger wearing and buying fake luxury goods. It's just a few hundred dollars. I can still afford to pay you." However, little did she know that everything I had was real. Even if she and her director husband worked for the rest of their lives, they would never be able to afford to pay for the damages.

My mother-in-law brings a woman from the countryside. She looks like she's up to no good when she asks my husband and I to care for the woman. My husband is a mama's boy through and through. His gaze darts around, and he doesn't object to his mother's words. Is it a trend nowadays for people to serve mistresses on a silver platter? It looks like I'll have to do my best in "caring" for them, then…

I was head over heels for Jonas Hayes, the cold and aloof scholarship student who saw me as nothing more than a walking wallet. He took my credit card but refused to let me get close. "Get lost. The sight of you and your filthy money makes me sick." Using my wealth, he showered Clara Dove, the stunning campus bella from a humble background, with luxury gifts and even threw her a lavish birthday party at the city’s most exclusive hotel. Everyone envied him, believing he was a self-made billionaire. But I didn’t care. I stayed hopelessly in love. After graduation, I poured my entire inheritance into building a life with him, convinced I could win his heart. During our honeymoon, he watched as I drowned, his voice ice-cold as he said, "Every time I think of how you used your money to control me, I wish you’d die sooner." When I woke up again, I was back in my college classroom—the day Jonas asked me to top up his card. This time, I wasn’t the desperate fool he remembered. I slapped him across the face with the card and sneered, "Even beggars know how to kneel and ask. What are you, a weed?"

My husband makes me quit my job to care for his deceased friend's wife after she's given birth. Yet, she deliberately breastfeeds to his face. He can't take his eyes off her, yet he has the nerve to call me petty. He even says I'm asking for trouble. Later, I get a divorce and sell the house. I return to my hometown and make it big there. That's when he begs me to take him back.

Trisi was talking to her daughter Heena , "As the eldest daughter of this family, you have to keep the family together. If you want your father out of the prison, sign this document and your dad will be a free man within seven days, maybe I might love you a little if you do this." Heena is not her mother's favourite and she has been living her life to get her affection. Two weeks after Heena the eldest daughter of Ro'Sau signed the document, she was sold off to a gangster all in the name of marriage and her father was still in jail. She was given a bitter surprise wedding present. What she has lived for 25 years to be true was blown to her out of proportion to be the opposite. Heena went to hell and swam in it, however, she came out of it and returned to get revenge in another form. Why did Trisi hate Heena? You will get the answer to this question as you read further.

On the day Yara Cullen was released from prison, it was raining. A chilly wind carried the drizzle, striking her as the media swarmed the prison gates. "Ms. Cullen, in the Crestwood Estate sexual assault case, your client lost the lawsuit and took her own life six months ago. Her mother is demanding accountability. Do you have anything to say?” "Ms. Cullen, your attorney's license has been revoked, and your mentor was forced to retire. What are your thoughts on this?" No matter how the reporters pressed, Yara kept her head down and pushed forward, forcing her way through the crowd. A black G-Wagon was parked by the roadside, where Westley Langston leaned against the car, smoking a cigarette. Beside him, Elena Cullen tugged at his arm. He turned, glancing toward the prison gates.

After my husband's car accident, I did a checkup and found out he had a malignant brain tumor. Instead of telling him right away, I stuck the report in my bag, planning to wait for the right moment. Guess what? He found it first—and thought I was the one with the tumor. A few days later, I overheard him in his office, laughing with a buddy: "My wife? No looks, no figure, just money—and now she's got a brain tumor. Talk about a win for me. If Rainee hadn't gone abroad, I'd never have married her. Bad luck, huh? At least I dodged the kid bullet. Once she's gone, I get everything." Then he pulled the amnesia card, blamed it on the accident, and started treating Rainee like his wife. He even welcomed her into our house. I smiled and said, "Nathan, let's get a divorce."

My son accidentally ate peanuts and suffered a severe allergic reaction. I threw away all the anti-allergy medication in the house and even hung up when he called 911 for help. I watched helplessly as his airway swelled shut and he suffocated to death. In my previous life, when my son struggled to breathe, I immediately drove him to the hospital. After an intense rescue effort, he survived, and I finally breathed a sigh of relief. However, my mother-in-law stormed in, furious, accusing me of being a monster and blaming me for nearly killing him. I hurried to explain that he was fine. Yet, when I presented the doctor's report and discharge paperwork, I was horrified to discover that they had turned into a death certificate. My son, who had been resting safely in the ICU, was gone. He had somehow appeared in the morgue. Refusing to accept it, I checked the surveillance footage. However, the footage clearly showed that my son never left the operating room. Instead, it was just me, talking to myself the entire time. I had no idea what was happening. No one believed me. They locked me in a psychiatric hospital. In the end, as my condition worsened, a swarm of frenzied patients attacked me and tore me apart alive.

My husband is a haute couture designer. When his true love goes blind in her right eye, he goes to his mother's ward and asks her for help in getting me to sign an organ donation agreement. What he doesn't know is that I'm already dead.