Tragic

I am the woman who stays the longest by the side of mafia Don Jasper Shaw. I believe I hold a unique place in his heart. But when his beloved Rosie Hurley suffers violation and falls pregnant, everything changes. Accused of orchestrating Rosie's downfall, I become the venomous villain in their eyes. To shield Rosie from gossip, Jasper publicly claims her unborn child as his own. Meanwhile, I am branded a depraved woman, defiled and discarded. Desperate, I reveal my own pregnancy to Jasper, pleading for our child’s future. He dismisses it as a ploy for attention. When I confront him, his words cut deep. "This is the sin you must atone for. Rosie has always been raised like a princess, and she can't endure the whispers—not like you." For the first time, I realize I am nothing to Jasper but a tool for his desires. Rosie locks me in a cramped cellar, where I suffocate and die. My body lies undiscovered for a month. When Jasper receives the call to identify my corpse, he brushes it off, prioritizing Rosie's prenatal checkup. "Amara's lies are piling up. So what if she's dead? Cremate her and then talk to me." My body enters the furnace and is reduced to a handful of ashes. Later, the mighty Jasper Shaw kneels and sobs uncontrollably. He begs for just one glimpse of me.

For three agonizing years, my mother struggled with kidney failure. Finally, after all the waiting and the constant dialysis, she was next in line for a transplant. Hope seemed so close. But then, my husband, Zachary Levi, an esteemed nephrology professor, did the unforgivable. He surreptitiously gave his lover's mother the kidney that was intended for my mother. He said almost dismissively, "Ella's mother couldn't wait any longer. Your mother's been on dialysis for so long, she's not going to die anytime soon." Later, my mother passed away. I called Zachary one final time. Yet, it was a woman who answered. "Margaret, right? Zachary's in the shower. Is there something you need?" I stared at my mother's smile on the gravestone, and an overwhelming emptiness spread through me. "It's nothing. Just wanted to talk about the divorce."

On Valentine's Day, my husband Ethan Scott’s assistant, Taylor Winston, gifted me 360 used condoms. She leaned close to my ear and whispered that this was Ethan’s favorite brand. Then, in front of everyone, she teased, "Valentine's Day calls for some explosive fun. I hope you don't mind, Claire." Disgust churned in my stomach, and I couldn’t hold back—I vomited on the spot. Embarrassed that I had humiliated him, Ethan snapped, "It was just a joke. Why are you making such a big deal out of it?" Three months pregnant, I was so enraged that a patch of red stained my pants. I begged him to take me to the hospital. But Taylor chimed in, "It's just her physiological reaction." Furious, Ethan heartlessly locked me in the car. He spent three carefree days with Taylor before finally remembering me. But when he saw me again, the usually composed CEO of Scott Enterprise completely lost his mind.

While working with the search and rescue team to save people trapped in an earthquake, an aftershock suddenly struck. Without hesitation, I pushed a hospital intern, Serena, out of the way. However, the force of the movement sent me to the ground, where a steel rod pierced my back, leaving me unable to move. When the aftershock ended, my husband, Derrick, came down with the others. Yet, instead of coming to me, he rushed to cradle Serena, who only had a few scrapes. Then he turned to glare at me. “What are you still sitting there for? Are you dead? Serena’s hurt, and you can’t even help her up?!” I was in so much pain I could barely speak, only able to force out a faint sound. “Honey, I… I’ve got a steel rod in my back… Please… help me.” Serena suddenly burst into tears in fear. “Mr. Nelson, I was so scared. Just now, Ms. Jones pushed me forward. If I hadn’t shifted direction, that huge rock would’ve crushed me!” Derrick, furious, shouted at me. “Gwen! You’re a doctor! What about your ethics? Your humanity?” Tears streamed down my face as I shook my head. “I didn’t. Please, just save me. I really can’t move…” One of the medical team members who came down with him checked my condition and looked worried. “Director Nelson, the steel rod seems to have pierced her spine. If we don’t treat her now, there’s a risk of paraplegia!” However, Derrick yanked him aside. “Save her? Let her walk herself! Gwen, we’re saving lives right now. If you want to act, I’ll put on a show with you when we get home! “Serena’s injured. Since there’s only one stretcher, we’re taking her up. You can walk up on your own.” His cold, departing back left me in utter despair.

As I sat in the police station with Yvonne Harper, my boyfriend’s childhood sweetheart, waiting for bail arrangements to be made, the decision loomed. One of us could go home tonight. My mate, Alpha Jackson, chose to take her. "Nicole, just wait for me one more night. I’ll come back for you tomorrow," he said. He was worried about her fragile health, but he didn’t care about my fear of the dark. Later, I called him. My voice was steady, though my heart ached. "Jackson," I began, "for the past few years, I’ve been waiting for you." "But I won’t wait forever."

Sophie, who deeply loved Dylan, had been enduring constant pain because Dylan was in love with a lowly maid. Dylan believed the maid was his lifesaver, and he forced Sophie to donate a kidney to her. Only then did he realize he had mistaken the wrong person—but by that time, Sophie had already left him forever.

At three in the morning, I was urgently called to an underground hospital in Verdanza to operate on the mafia Don's only son. But the man lying on the bed was my husband, the same man who had sworn before leaving that he was going on a business trip, promised he would drink less, and told me not to worry. Outside the operating room, a young woman clutched my sleeve and nearly broke down in tears. "Doctor, please save my fiancé! He got shot while protecting me. We can pay anything!" A well-dressed middle-aged woman quickly pulled her back. "Sylvia, calm down! Think about the baby." At that moment, I came to a horrifying realization. The man I had supported for ten years with my scalpel, the man I believed was bankrupt and drowning in debt… He was actually the heir to the biggest mafia family in Verdanza. And now, he had put himself in the ICU to protect another woman. I felt as though my heart had been ripped open. In our years together, we had once had a child. Back then, he had convinced me to terminate the pregnancy with the excuse that we were buried in debt and couldn't afford a baby. Yet now, another woman was carrying his child, surrounded by his family's protection and cherished like a priceless treasure. If that was how it was going to be, fine. After this surgery, everything Luca Colleone and I had together would be over. Ten years of history, wiped clean.

My brother hated me and wanted me dead.I cried and asked him, "Am I your sister or what?""I don't have a sister," he scoffed.That night, a car suddenly hit me and killed me.He went insane.

My wife, Caroline Bailey, was a forensic pathologist. For her first love, Ian Lawson, she was willing to break every rule she held sacred and allowed him into the autopsy room to observe. She even let him throw acid onto a corpse's face. That was, until Caroline took on a new case. As she stood over the disfigured body on her operating table, she began to fall apart. The acid-burned face was starting to look more and more like mine.

I stopped fighting. The moment I came back, I stepped out of the family spotlight on purpose— no arguments, no expectations, no awkward “let’s bond” moments. And somehow… that’s when my parents lost their minds. They made my little sister the heir? I congratulated them and filed my transfer to the Vegas branch the same afternoon. They threw her a massive coming-of-age gala? I smiled, booked a flight, and left before the invitations were printed. They bought her a limited-edition luxury car? I claimed my “old wrist injury” made driving impossible and insisted she take it. I thought they’d be relieved. I thought they’d finally get their perfect family without me messing up the picture. But instead—my cold, distant parents started calling nonstop. Showing up at my door. Pleading with me to come home. Asking what they did wrong. Why now? Why only when I stopped trying? Because in my last life, I spent decades clawing for their love— only to die bitter, resented, and humiliated. Even my grown son told me I was embarrassing. This time, I came back different. I refused to fight for a place in their world again. I refused to compete with my sister. I refused to beg. But the moment I stepped away… the entire family empire began to crack. And now they’re terrified. Not because I left— but because they finally realized what they lost.