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No Longer a Pushover
In Noelle Liddell's past life, she obeyed her brothers' every command. Yet they exploited her and stepped all over her pride so they could dote on Xenia Quigley, their fake sister. Noelle is their birth sister, yet she ultimately dies after being kicked out of her home. After being reborn, Noelle follows one principle—she stops being such a Good Samaritan, and she's not going to forgive or make up with her brothers. They can go do whatever they want as long as they leave her alone. Her eldest brother, Donovan Liddell, wonders why his health has deteriorated recently. It's because Noelle doesn't bring him his medication and supplements anymore. Her second brother, Frank Liddell, wonders why his company's firewall keeps acting up. It's because Noelle doesn't maintain it anymore. Her third brother, Carl Liddell, wonders why the development of the new drug is going so slowly. It's because Noelle isn't testing it anymore. Her fourth brother, Blake Liddell, wonders why the scripts he's getting are so horrible. It's because Noelle isn't writing them anymore. Her fifth brother, Wyatt Liddell, wonders why his prosthetic limb is so terrible. It's because Noelle isn't producing them anymore. Her sixth brother, Lucas Liddell, wonders why his team lost. It's because Noelle quit. The six men grovel at Noelle's feet and beg for her forgiveness. "Come home, Nelly. Blood is thicker than water—we're a family!" Noelle sneers. "You only know that you're wrong after everything's gone to shit. Sorry, but I'm not going to forgive any of you!"
Goodbye Scumbag, Hello True Love
"I'm so over Cassandra." Aidan Ziegler sneers, swirling his wine glass with a lazy smirk. "A real woman is soft and sweet—like Clara. As for her..." In the corner, a glass suddenly shatters in a man's palm. Cassandra Callum stands frozen, holding the cake she made to celebrate their three-year anniversary, eyes locked on the blood trickling down from his sharply defined fingers. Tristan Freeman, head of Freeman Group, slowly wipes his hand clean. His dark gaze sweeps over her tear-reddened eyes. "Ms. Callum, would you like to marry me?" The city explodes with gossip. Everyone thinks a broke little designer has climbed her way into wealth and power— what no one knows is that this marriage is a trap Tristan set five years ago. His private gallery holds over a thousand sketches of her profile—from that day in sophomore year when she crouched in a rainy alley feeding a stray cat, to her backstage at a runway abroad, gently arranging jewelry. Late at night, he stares at security footage, cigarette in hand, as Aidan kneels in a storm, soaked and shaking. Tristan suddenly pulls his delicate wife into his arms. Later, a finance reporter captures the once cold and ruthless Tristan, down on one knee before Cassandra. His hands tremble as he holds a pregnancy test. Cassandra flashes her wedding ring and laughs softly. "Surprised, Mr. Freeman?" Tristan, once known for being sharp and vicious, blinks back tears, then presses a trembling kiss to the faded mark on her ring finger. "Cassie, when you were 22, I wanted to say..." "Say what?" He leans in, his voice hoarse as he whispers, "The cake was really sweet."
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