Why Does The Protagonist In 'The Perfect Home' Make That Choice?

For three years, Elena endured a husband who barely acknowledged her, a mother-in-law who treated her like hired help, and a sister-in-law who sneered that she was nothing but a golddigger. All the while, her husband, Damien, pined after his “perfect” ex, like his own wife didn’t exist. Until the day Elena had enough. She signed the divorce papers, packed a single bag, and vanished. Damien was certain she’d come crawling back within a week. But the woman they all dismissed? Turns out Elena is a billionaire heiress, the CEO of the very empire Damien has been desperate to partner with and the one now signing his paychecks. Oops. Now Damien is spiraling, realizing too late what he lost. But Elena has choices she never had before. Like her childhood best friend, an NFL star who’s been in love with her all along. So who will it be? The ex-husband who finally woke up? The best friend who never left? Or has Elena finally decided she’s done with men who don’t deserve her?

I was adopted. They were so good to me that every night before I fell asleep, I prayed to grow up healthy and happy in this home. Then Mom got pregnant. I hid under my covers and cried all night, quietly packing the little suitcase I had arrived with. But they didn't send me away. They loved me even more. The day my brother was born, Mom took my hand and gently stroked my head. "Having an older sister," she said, "is why we have a younger brother." Dad lifted me above his head and spun me around laughing. "Lily is our family's lucky star — our most beloved baby!" I finally stopped dreading every single day. I thought I had truly become part of this family. Then my brother snapped my favorite Barbie in half. I pushed him. He stumbled, sat on the floor, stared for two seconds, and burst into tears. Mom panicked, shoved me aside, and pulled him into her arms, asking over and over if he was hurt. Dad came running. He grabbed my shoulders and slammed me against the wall, eyes blazing. "Is this what I raised you all these years for — to bully your brother? Believe me when I say I will send you straight back to—"

After five years of marrying into the Loween City in place of my sister, the Gambling King finally passed away. My son and my ex-husband—at long last—gave me permission to fake my death and return to them. But they laid down three conditions. First: kneel before Vivian Gray, apologize for framing her all those years ago, and surrender my place as Mrs. Hartwell. Second: work as a live-in maid for my own son for five years, and never show up at his school in my former identity as the reigning queen of the nightlife scene—lest I embarrass him. Third: drink an abortifacient to destroy my fertility forever, as recompense for the infertility I once caused Vivian. "My lady, you've endured five whole years just to earn your freedom—how dare they humiliate you like this?" My maid's eyes were red, burning with indignation on my behalf. But I just tipped my head back and swallowed the death-faking pill, letting the servants toss my "corpse" into the overgrown brambles beyond the city limits. Then, from the mud and weeds, I crawled back to the Hartwell mansion—one knee at a time. Day one, I knelt as ordered and signed over custody of my son without a fight. Day three, I locked myself in the storage closet and stopped showing up at school to pick my son up like I used to. I also stopped pestering him to call me "Mom." Even when Vivian—knowing full well I'm terrified of the dark—deliberately trapped me in the basement, I bore it in silence. By the time my ex-husband Nathan Hartwell saw me again, I was barely hanging on. For the first time, a flicker of panic crossed his face as he carried me out of that basement. But my son just sneered. "It's just another stunt to win our sympathy." When he caught the tears welling in Vivian's eyes, Nathan coldly dropped me to the ground. "Always scheming against Vivian with your dirty tricks—aren't you tired of it?" Right then, the system chimed in my ear: [Please proceed to the "disposable ex-wife death node" to complete the story line and return to your original world.] I let out a quiet laugh. "Not tired at all." And with that, I turned and dove straight into the swimming pool beside me.

What happens to a perfect housewife? After seven years of marriage, I am known as the perfect wife. I love my husband Ron, and I've always thought our marriage was perfect except for the lack of an heir. However, on our seventh anniversary, my husband told me that my little sister, Gina, was pregnant with his child. At this moment, I feel my world collapse! I frantically went to Gina's apartment to ask her why she was trying to break up my marriage, only to see her clutching her stomach as she lay on the floor in pain, and I was arrested as a murderer. “Let me out! I want to see my husband!” In prison, I found out that I was pregnant. I was anxious to tell my husband the news, but Gina's dagger came instead. At the moment of death, I shouted from the bottom of my heart: I am willing to pay any price to revenge. When I opened my eyes again, Ron was urging me to go to the funeral. What's going on? I'm back in my house? I grabbed my phone and looked at the date. It was seven days before our 7th anniversary. Yes, I was reborn, and this time I won't let it happen again. All those who betray me must be punished. But why is there a dangerous man following me?

I got my marriage certificate with the heir of the most powerful family of the city in the morning. By the afternoon, he took me to file for divorce. I clutched the documents and stood frozen as his friends burst into unrestrained laughter around me. “Julian, just because Elena said that, you actually married Maya just to divorce her right away?” “Haha, look at her face. She’s gone pale. Is she about to cry?” However, Julian simply pulled my adopted sister, Elena, into his arms. His voice was soft with affection. “Now that we’ve got divorced, will you finally smile for me?” Elena let out a chuckle. Her cool, aloof face bloomed into a smile. I tried to step forward and question Julian, but my three brothers held me back. My eldest brother, the CEO, frowned and said, “Elena only smiles for him. Try having some decency.” My second brother, the actor, shoved me to the ground. “She’s had a hard life. You have everything. You don’t need this one man.” My third brother, a biology professor, said coldly, “Julian should’ve married her long ago. Stop interfering.” They forced me into the car, refusing to let me stand in the way of their love and her happiness. At that moment, the system that had been silent for so long finally came online: [Host, the objective has been completed. Do you wish to return to the real world now?] I sat in the back seat, gazing out the window. I almost let out a laugh. The tragic play I had put on for this mission was finally over. From now on, I wanted no part in their lives.

I was known all throughout high society as the perfect, obedient daughter. Suitors lined up at my door in droves, yet I insisted on marrying Grayson Thatcher, whose family fortune had crumbled, all because of a promise we made when we were young. I thought we would be partners building a life together, but he fell deeply in love with his childhood sweetheart, a girl who spent her days running wild. The night before our wedding, he went street racing with her and they both got arrested, causing him to miss the ceremony entirely. The scandal made it everywhere. On New Year's Eve, he left me to organize the family banquet alone while he ran off with his childhood sweetheart to some crowded plaza. To see a different display of fireworks, they set fire to balloons people had released into the sky and triggered a massive blaze. Once again, I exhausted every connection I had to get him out of the mess. I cleaned up 999 of his reckless mistakes and kept the Thatcher family's business afloat, making sure he could live without a care in the world. I thought that eventually, he would at least remember some small part of what we meant to each other. Yet when I fell critically ill and needed a heart transplant, he took the only available donor heart and gave it to his childhood sweetheart instead. That was the first time I broke down and demanded answers. He stared at me, cold and unmoved. "You have the nerve to ask me that? If you hadn't forced yourself on me, I would've gotten together with Maeve years ago. You're as stiff as an old lady. How could you ever compare to someone like her? She's full of life. "I've let you play Mrs. Thatcher for over a decade. I was more than generous. Maeve is going to be my wife now. When she dies, we'll be buried together. You won't even get that much." I died consumed by bitterness and rage. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the matchmaking event. I picked up the marriage proposal the Thatchers had sent and tore it to pieces. Then, I reached for the one from the wealthiest family in the room and smiled. "Dad, if I have to get married anyway, I might as well marry the man with the most money and power."