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On Christmas Eve, my father got the man I had secretly loved for ten years drunk and sent him to my bed. When I woke up the next morning, Roy pulled away from my attempt at a good-morning kiss. His voice was cold and distant as he agreed to marry me. After the wedding, Roy wasted no time submitting a transfer request. He took an overseas post and left. He did not return for five years. I gave birth to our daughter, Eve, alone and waited for him to come back home. When I heard that Roy had finally applied to return to a domestic position, I was overjoyed. I spent days preparing, imagining our first reunion as husband and wife. But even when the clock struck midnight, he still hadn't come home. Our daughter, ever so thoughtful, placed her most treasured possession—a photograph of Roy—into my hands. "Don't cry, Mommy," she said softly. "Look, Daddy's right here." I tried to convince myself that his absence was due to a delayed flight. But later that night, while watching the news, I saw him. He was on a crowded city street, holding a young girl in his arms. Beside him stood a woman, her smile soft and warm. Facing the camera, Roy said, "Being with them is my greatest wish." At that moment, something inside me broke. I wrote up the divorce papers, packed our things, and planned to take Eve to change her identity. I didn't want him anymore. The day before we left, a man I had never met came to see me. He was Roy's father. "You could call me Dad," he said, a faint smile playing on his lips. "But I'd rather you call me Ryan." I told him everything about the past five years—how I had waited, how I had hoped. When I finished, he laughed softly, an unusual warmth in his voice. "If it was just business," he said, "perhaps your father should have tied a bow around me and sent me to your bed instead. But I hold my liquor well—if I ever end up wrapped in a bow, you can be sure it's by choice."

Due to an accident, my wife and I lost our lives in a massive fire. When we open our eyes again, we find ourselves back on the day we registered our marriage. In our last life, everyone thought we were the perfect couple. Little did they know that my wife, Queenie Lloyd, refused to consummate our marriage. Right before my death, I found out that I was nothing but a replacement for her first love. Queenie had intended to remain chaste for him for the rest of her life. After being reborn, neither of us speaks of the past. By an unspoken agreement, we get a divorce that very day and go on to live separate lives. Eight years later, she attends an industry summit holding her childhood sweetheart's arm. She's now a rising star in the business world. I am dressed in plain clothes. When she notices me, she walks over with a champagne glass in hand. "Mr. Lawrence! Even if you still have feelings for me, you didn't have to disguise yourself as a waiter just to approach me. Are you still trying to convince me to get back together with you?" she sneers. I ignore her and smile as I wave at someone nearby. My son runs over to me and tugs on the corner of my shirt. "Mommy said she's tired, Daddy. She wants to know when you're coming to pick us up," he tells me. Upon hearing this, Queenie's face stiffens immediately, and she almost drops her wine glass.

My physics teacher held up my test paper with an 18-point score in front of all the students and parents and said, “Students like this are hopeless. I don’t even know how someone like this passed the high school entrance exam. “I didn’t think there was a way to cheat on the high school entrance exam, but it turns out there is. It gives people like this a chance to cheat.” He did not just insult my intelligence but also questioned my character and family. “Well, it’s not surprising. Only a junk-collecting family could raise a kid like this.” I curled up in my seat, too scared to say anything. But my stepmom could not stand it anymore. She smacked the chalk box off his desk, pointed at him, and yelled, “Who do you think you’re talking about?! “I send my kid to school and pay all the tuition and book fees! How did it turn into us being a junk-collecting family?! “You can’t even teach properly, and I haven’t called you out for it! Have you no shame?! You don’t deserve to be called a teacher! You’re just a piece of trash!” For some reason, she suddenly seemed imposing and heroic to me.

"Damn you, woman! How... you're my father's wife, how the hell are you still a virgin?" It was our wedding night, but instead of sharing a bed with my old, billionaire husband, I was rolling in cash. One million dollars—that was the price of my freedom, given to me just for marrying him. For a girl who used to survive on pennies, denying this offer would have been a sin. So, who cares if he’s old? I’m filthy rich now!

Taylor Crewman has always been considered as the lowest of the low in the social hierarchy of LittleWood High.She is constantly reminded of where she belongs by a certain best-friend-turned-worst-enemy. Desperate to do something about it she embarks on her biggest project yet.