Is 'A Doll'S House' Based On A True Story?

Thanks to my addiction to the stories regarding true and fake heiresses, I'm afflicted with strong paranoia that everyone is out there to get me. For some reason, I keep thinking that I'm a fake heiress who will eventually get kicked out of my home. In order to avoid getting set up, I stay on my guard every day. Not only do I hire some people to act as the actual heiresses and visit my home from time to time, but I also have them put on performances with me while clutching paternity test reports and heirloom pendants as props. On the day I'm done rehearsing all of the webnovel tropes, a pure and innocent young woman comes knocking on the door. Interestingly enough, she has live comments surrounding her. As she shows the pendant and a paternity test report, she starts crying sadly. "Mom, Dad, I'm your actual daughter!" The live comments begin spamming relentlessly. "I'm tired of looking at pure and innocent female leads! A manipulative true heiress, on the other hand, is a breath of fresh air! Not only does she intend to regain everything that belongs to her, but she also vows to teach the fake heiress a lesson she will never forget!" "Just look at how amazing her acting and her expression are! Her parents will definitely fall for her excuse, hook, line, and sinker!" Amid the live comments' cheering, my parents just nod thoughtfully. "The actress who's playing this role today is quite talented."

In Kingdom where women and girls are thrust into a life of bondage to be used as pleasure dolls for men and rich folks who could afford to buy them, a young, innocent girl of fifteen, green in life finds herself looking toward this life, with horror stories of dolls echoing deep in her heart, leaving her green eyes wide with terror. Then fate strikes and she finds herself in the path of another, though in a different path, but shares the same fate. A life in bondage. She has been made one of the most powerful woman in the kingdom, not through her making, but by the greediness of a mother, and the ambition of a father. She is the twelfth wife of a cruel old King, who kills his wives without hesitancy at the failure to produce a male child. Their path intertwine at the wedding ceremony, indoctrinating the young black haired beauty into her new life. They were not looking for it, but love came knocking on their door. It is frowned upon, it is an abomination, if found out their lives is at stake, but these young women couldn’t resist the calling of their heart. Is love worth all the hell they would go through?

Since I was a kid, my parents drilled it in—you're gonna be a Corleone girl, Giovanni Corleone's property. "This is just an alliance. Don't expect anything more." That's what he said on our wedding night. So I played the part—quiet, polished, dutiful. Then year three hit, and suddenly Giovanni couldn't keep his hands off me. Every night, something new. I thought maybe—finally—he felt the same way I had all along. Then I caught him kissing his stepmom. Funny. Just the night before, he told me kissing me made him sick. "I've been practicing with her—for your sake." So yeah. All that heat? Just rehearsal for her. So I ran. Took back my life—and our unborn daughter. The Don lost his mind looking for me. Begged me to come back—with the kid. But I would not stop for him anymore. I turned and walked straight toward the stage that was always mine.

My husband, Calvin Ziegler, recently bought a lifelike silicone doll. He says it's a companion to help relieve work stress. In the middle of the night, a faint noise wakes me up. I discover him holding the doll tightly, his expression unusually focused. Suddenly, a series of strange comments appears before my eyes. "Dorothy Sanders is using the resonance system again tonight to transfer her consciousness into the doll's body. Sneaking around right under Laura Halliwell's nose is so thrilling!" "Calvin and Dorothy really know how to have fun. That idiot of a wife probably has no idea what's going on. Haha!" I look at the doll on the couch. The corners of its mouth are curled into an eerie smile. I smile too. Since you love being a doll so much, I'll make sure you stay one forever.

"When does a person die, when it stops breathing, when its heart stops beating?" "No a person dies the moment it looses hope, that's when u become an empty shell, a living doll when you have no more expectation from the world, where there are no feelings just emptiness" "Many people would think that immortality is a blessing little do they know that this is the cruellest curse someone can give you" ******** *creepy smile* " Oh Celea you really think that you will ever be able to live me" he was caressing her face, he looked like he was crazy... "what are you talking about?" " I'm saying that you will never be able to escape me, I won't let you go even if you love someone else, you are mine" " your hair belongs to me" touches her hair " your lips belong to me" touches her lips " the eyes that look at me with indifference belong to me" touches her eyes " your heart belongs to me..." his finger went down her neck to her heart, action wich made Celea look at where his finger's at. Claus than goes to her ear and whispers " your whole existence belongs to me Celea"

Everyone in the underworld knew Rosalie Thorne, the "Thorn Principessa" of the North. Wild, rebellious, notorious. Street racing, high-stakes gambling, guns, and drinking, she had mastered them all. The rose-and-thorn tattoo on the nape of her neck drove countless men wild. But what they didn't know was that for Rocco, the new mob boss of the South, a single sentence, "I prefer a more obedient woman," was all it took. At his word, I had the tattoo lasered off and swapped my leathers for long, conservative dresses. I am Rosalie. For five years, I hid my identity and played the porcelain doll Rocco wanted. Until the night he eliminated all his rivals and was crowned the new Don of the South. That was when he let his men bow to another woman, hailing her as their "Donna." I watched Rocco. The same hands that had just executed a traitor were now gently placing a pair of red high heels on the feet of his adoptive sister, Vivian. "Rosalie, she has a temper. She'll make a scene if she doesn't get the title." "You're the good one, the obedient one. Just let her have this." That day, I walked straight out into the rain and never looked back. I was never truly obedient. I just made myself smaller for him. My family had already chosen a husband for me. They had been waiting five years, just for me to say yes.