Tragic

I accidentally wear the gown Miles Graham prepared for his childhood sweetheart. To my horror, he forces me to take it off in public. "I prepared this for Nora—do you think you're worthy of wearing it? Take it off! You're dirtying it!" He knows I have serious PTSD after almost being violated, yet he insults me with those words. I look at him tearfully and beg him not to say anymore. That's when the gown's zip bursts open. My PTSD acts up. I'm so overwhelmed that I collapse on the floor and have a seizure. Miles dismisses everyone and takes Nora out on a date. He leaves me lying there in humiliation. I call my mentor before being discharged from the hospital. "Ms. Gardner, I've decided to participate in the water conservation project in Affenheim."

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."

A plane crash tore my husband and his twin brother apart. One survived. One did not. When I rushed to the hospital, I saw my brother-in-law, who had just survived the crash, locked in a passionate kiss with his wife. My husband? He lay lifeless in the morgue. Blinded by grief, I stumbled down the stairs…and lost the child I had spent three years longing for. Three years passed. Just as I was finally learning to breathe without him, I overheard a conversation between his closest friend and my brother-in-law: "How long do you plan to keep pretending to be your brother? Alicia is your legal wife." He adjusted his glasses, voice icy and distant. "I swore to my brother I'd protect Emily for the rest of my life. I am him now. As for Alicia… let her be the debt I carry into my next life." That's when I learned the truth. It was the brother-in-law who died in the crash. My husband, the man I had mourned all those years, had taken on his brother's identity to stay by Emily's side, the unattainable woman he had always secretly loved. So then what about me? The woman clinging to old memories, living in torture for three years. What was I to him?

At the celebration where Lorenzo Alvarez is crowned the new mafia boss, his men arrange a few performances. A dancer in a backless top and short skirt twists around the pole under the lights. "Don't look," he murmurs, covering my eyes with his hand. "This kind of cheap entertainment isn't worthy of you." His men jump in immediately. "Lorenzo still spoils Ms. Valenti after all these years. That kind of devotion is rare. We're so jealous." "A man as loyal and single-minded as Lorenzo is hard to find." I rest a hand on my belly, planning to tell him tonight that I am pregnant. But when I return from the restroom, I see the same man who had just held me in his arms leaning back in his chair while the dancer straddles his lap. Lorenzo slips his business card and a thick fold of cash into the waistband of her skirt. He laughs, relaxed and unbothered. "Isabella is wonderful, sure, but life needs a little passion. This ragazza is just something new. A bit of fun. "Keep your mouths shut. Don't go running to Isabella and upset her. Otherwise, you'll have a problem." Cold rushes through me. I do not approach or confront Lorenzo. I simply take out my phone and answer the email I have been avoiding for days. "I agree to participate in the confidential experiment."

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.

When Seth Gibson told me his legs were crippled and that only snowmelt from a mountain's peak could cure him, I did not hesitate. I scaled the mountainside, climbing over 15,000 feet just to get some snow for him. When I staggered back, bruised and scratched, cradling the snow outside the hospital room, I overheard cruel voices down the corridor. "Seth, today's the deadline. Nevaeh still isn't back. Could she have died up there?" "I heard that the mountain's pretty high. She might have gotten altitude sickness. What a shame! She's already risked herself for Seth ninety-nine times. This was supposed to be the last time before the game ended." "Serves her right! She used to bully Janice, Seth's childhood friend, didn't she?" I saw Seth through the crack in the door. He was standing at the window, his legs perfectly intact, and his expression ice-cold. "Enough," he said flatly. "If she dies, the game ends." I froze in disbelief until it finally sank in. Seth had been pretending all along. A laugh nearly escaped me. What a relief! I could finally get rid of this weight on my shoulders. I pulled out my phone and called his uncle. "I'll marry you," I said.

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."

On our anniversary, Nina Reid took our daughter—and her assistant, Ray Chapman—out for another "family day." Without me. That was it. I filed for divorce. Right after signing the papers and boxing up my stuff, I heard a buzz from the corner. Old phone. Twelve years old. Buried in a drawer. The screen lit up with a number I almost recognized. Hand shaking, I picked up. A voice I hadn't heard in years. Young. Way too familiar. "Hey, Liam. I need to talk to you."