

Elite lawyer Kylin Taylor walks into a cafe and finds her fiance Zane Walker attending tenderly to his mistress. She doesn't make a scene. That night, she slides a condom into a legal contract and hands it to Zane's closest friend, David Evans, Eryland's most talked-about playboy. "Hotel tonight? It's on me." What begins as cold, surgical revenge becomes something stranger: she uses David to deliver Zane a humiliation; David plays along with every sign of enjoying himself.But as the game deepens, he drops the act entirely and and starts betting everything he has on her instead of the thrill. Kylin realizes, with a jolt, that she never had control of this board to begin with. Someone laid these pieces into position ten years ago, and it wasn't her.

After my fiance’s childhood friend found out I was born with a heart condition, she secretly poured a high-dose energy drink into my champagne. The moment I drank it, my heart started racing, and stabbing pain spread through my chest. In a panic, I tore open my only emergency medication, but the water I used to take it had been swapped with strong lemon water. As soon as I drank it, my face went pale. I lost all strength and collapsed to the ground. “Lemon water’s full of vitamin C. It helps with hangovers and keeps you healthy.” Charlotte Whitmore laughed so hard she nearly doubled over. With her arms crossed, she looked at my fiance, Ethan Cross, the boss of the Rolling Stones. “Ethan, your fiancee’s acting is incredible! “I’ve been a doctor for years, and I’ve never seen anyone react like this to a little champagne and lemon water.” I bit my lip until I tasted blood. The pain made my eyes sting, and I clutched Ethan’s leg. “Honey, please, call an ambulance! I can’t take it anymore…” For a moment, his expression wavered, but the guests quickly cut in. “Come on, stop pretending! Nobody dies from a bit of champagne and lemon water.” “Yeah, you’re just jealous Charlotte got promoted and didn’t want to toast to her.” Ethan’s face turned cold again. He yanked my hand off and stepped away. “Charlotte’s a doctor. You’ll be fine with her here.” I stopped begging and texted my father asking for help

At her dad's birthday banquet, Willa Sawyer was tricked by her stepsister, Wendy Sawyer, into having a one-night stand with a stranger. Willa's fiancé, Scott Torres, ruthlessly called off their engagement, and she became a laughingstock of the entire city.Then, her mom got ill and was in urgent need of money for surgery. Willa turned to her dad for help, but he wanted her to sleep with an old man to secure a deal. Out of anger, she quickly married a stranger, Shane Zoller, only because he'd pay for her mom's treatment. She thought she married an ordinary guy with slightly better looks and character, but she never expected him to be a powerful and mysterious heir to a rich family. She thought this would be another hellish ordeal, but he actually doted on her.He said, "In my world, you never have to endure anything or anyone; you just bask in my adoration. Mrs. Zoller, I met you too late. I wanna spend the rest of my life with you."

The doctor told me I had 72 hours left, unless I got access to the newest experimental treatment. However, there was only one slot available, and my husband Bowen Liddell gave it to my sister Yvonne Lawson instead. "Her kidney failure is more critical," he said. I nodded and swallowed the white pills that would only speed up my death. In the time I had left, I got a lot done. The lawyer's hand trembled as he passed me the documents. "Are you sure you want to transfer the two billion dollars in shares?" I replied, "Yes. Give them to Yvonne." My daughter, Candice Liddell, was giggling in Yvonne's arms. "Mommy Yvonne bought me a new dress!" I said, "It looks beautiful. Make sure you always listen to Mommy Yvonne, okay?" The art gallery I built from the ground up now had Yvonne's name on the sign. "You're too kind, Kathy," she said, crying. I told her, "You'll run it even better than I ever did." I even signed all my parents' trust fund away. That was when Bowen finally gave me his first genuine smile in years. "Kathleen, you've changed. You're not so aggressive anymore... You're beautiful like this." Indeed. This dying version of me finally became the 'perfect Kathleen Sullivan' in their eyes—obedient, generous, and no longer argumentative. The 72-hour countdown had already begun, and I couldn't help but wonder what they would remember when my heart stopped for good. The good wife who 'finally learned to let go', or the woman who completed her revenge by dying?