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I have a secret: I can see live comments! After scrolling past a video of a muscular man, my husband kicks me out of the car on the highway. The comments say "He's jealous! He totally loves you!" and "He just has that cold CEO syndrome". But when I'm badly injured in an accident, he allows his first love to spill hot soup at me,push me down the stairs, destroy my belongings,and be intimate with him countless times, and the comments are still celebrating. "Aloof now, chase later!" What they don't know is that from the first moment my heart turned cold, I've been calmly planning my escape. I hand him divorce papers and disappear completely, then remarry someone far above his station. No matter how he weeps in regret, I never look back.

Yvette Queen, the hidden heiress of the prestigious Queen family, falls in love with Wendell Lewis, who's from a declining family. Without revealing her true identity, she secretly supports his family while his parents, unaware and looking down on her, push Wendell to marry into the wealthy Lane family. They send Wendell abroad with Sue Lane for further studies. Before leaving, Wendell promises Yvette that he will marry her upon his return. Four years later, however,Wendell comes back and announces his engagement to Sue. Seeing his true colors, Yvette has her family crush both the Lane and Lewis families. The backlash causes Wendell's mother to fall gravely ill. Desperate to secure a hospital director's treatment for her, Wendell seeks out Yvette to reconcile—only to discover she is the legendary Queen heiress. Realizing his mistake, Wendell turns against Sue, and the two betray each other, reaping what they sowed.Meanwhile, Yvette becomes the chairwoman of the Queen Group.

Fifteen years ago, I casually helped a homeless kid who couldn’t afford a football. I handed him three hundred dollars and, half-joking, asked for 1% of his future company as “founder’s shares.” I just wanted to give him a push to chase his dream. Fifteen years later, the football club I built is on the verge of collapse. The three children I raised with my own hands team up to steal my company, drain my accounts, and grind me into the dirt. Players are demanding unpaid wages, my wife is dying of a terminal illness, and my most trusted friend forces me to my knees. Just to save my employees and my family, I swallow my pride and give up everything. Right when everyone’s waiting for me to finally break— A fleet of luxury cars from a thousand-billion-dollar empire rolls up to my door. That same scrawny, homeless boy who once had nothing… has come back.

I was born broken. My Alpha mother was the one who branded me. She said emotion was a sin. A weakness. Especially for a werewolf. Especially for an Alpha’s heir. The day we were born, she clamped emotion-suppressing collars around our necks. Mine and my twin sister's. The slightest flicker of emotion, and the collar flashed red. My mother would then push the button, injecting me with a diluted "silver solution" to suppress my feelings. But my sister Cassia's collar? Always a calm, steady blue. Even when she shattered Mom's precious moonstone, it just pulsed gently. And me? I’d just whisper, "Mom, the thunder scares me," and my collar would erupt in a violent red. Then came the sting of silver poison burning through my blood.. I used to argue. But Mom always said the same thing. "The data doesn't lie. Pain is a teacher. This is for your own good." After thousands of these injections, I started to believe it, too. That I was born out of control. The night of the alliance's Moon Goddess Festival, Mom was taking my sister to the rooftop party. Something scared me during the day. The collar flashed red, and my mother started the punishment. But this time, the collar malfunctioned. It shot a dose a thousand times stronger into my neck. I collapsed on the carpet, begging, "Mother, the collar... it hurts so much... help me." My collar was flashing a frantic red. My mother just looked down at me, drenched in a cold sweat, and pressed the button for the maximum dose. "You'd lose control like this just for attention? You're a lost cause." She turned, took my sister, and slammed the door. I couldn't help but think, Mom must be right. The collar is red. It doesn't really hurt. I'm just being dramatic, looking for pity again. I'm sorry, Mom. In my next life, I'll be the perfect daughter you always wanted.