Is 'May I Ask For One Final Thing?' Vol. 6 Worth Reading?

My husband is the director of a private hospital. During the three years of work, he would always find his "female best friend" with all kinds of excuses. The first time he went, he bought me a new purse I had been longing for. The second time he went, he credited one thousand dollars to the beauty salon I frequented. Only after he gave his family member's spot for the hospital's retreat did I finally ask for my one-hundredth request. He simply signed the form, thinking that it was some kind of order for a luxurious item. "I've neglected you lately. Shall I take you to see the aurora after I come back this time?" When he gracefully gave me that promise, I calmly smiled. That was because he didn't know the last thing I asked him to sign was divorce papers.

She has been killed six times. Always by the same hands. Always by the men fated to love her. Across six lifetimes and five shattered worlds, she dies the same death — not by strangers, not by enemies, but by the one soul the universe itself bound to hers. The Emotionless Emperor kills her on palace marble. The Strongest Under Heaven beheads her at a cliff's edge. The Star Emperor pierces her with starlight in a collapsing galaxy. The King of the Dead strangles her while weeping. The Dragon Monarch crushes her in hands that were meant to hold her. And in her sixth life, broken beyond grief, she simply stops breathing on her own. She wakes before the God of Destiny — and learns the truth that destroyed everything. The God grants her one final life. One world where all five powers exist. One chance to choose differently. She enters her seventh life with no intention of choosing anything — except survival. She is eighteen, razor-sharp, and carrying six lifetimes of grief behind serene eyes. When The Iron Sovereign, The Heavenly Saint, The Celestial Emperor, The Eclipse Pontiff, and The Crimson Dragon King all look at her across the same room for the first time, she already knows their faces from her nightmares. She doesn't run. She plans. But the universe has its own agenda. And the five men who murdered her across time are starting to remember. The question was never whether they would love her again. The question is whether love — and the people carrying it — can survive what it cost before.

After I voluntarily gave up my position as the team's starting carry to my boyfriend's first love, he was pleased by how obedient I had been. As a reward, he moved our wedding date forward. But on the day of the ceremony, his precious first love, consumed by jealousy, pressed a dagger against herself and begged through tears, "Ethan, please don't marry her. Please." Ethan, who had always been cold and composed, instantly panicked. He pleaded with me over and over, begging me to save her life. Every guest at the wedding was waiting to see me make a fool of myself. Instead, I stayed calm and quietly handed over my place as the bride. Seeing how understanding I was, just as I had always been, Ethan's eyes reddened. "I promise this is the last time I'll let you suffer. As soon as the wedding is over, we'll get our marriage license and make it official." But he had forgotten something. This was the ninety-sixth time he had hurt me. And I had no intention of spending the rest of my life with him. I was only waiting for three more promises. Once I had repaid the debt I owed him for saving my grandmother's life all those years ago, I would walk away for good. From that day on, our paths would never cross again.

The day my parents divorced, I turned my back on the mother who loved me and clung desperately to my cheating father. In my previous life, I chose my mother without hesitation. Because the family never accepted me, she spent the rest of her life suffering for my sake, enduring endless scorn and hardship. This time, as I looked into her heartbroken eyes, I walked away without a backward glance. Five years later, I was scraping by at a seafood market, spending my days gutting fish amid the stench of saltwater and blood. Just as I expertly sliced open a fish's belly, my mother appeared. Her heels clicked across the damp floor as she navigated around puddles left by melting ice and approached me. She covered her nose in disgust, looked me up and down in my stained, shabby clothes, and let out a cold laugh. "No matter how hard you wash, you still reek of fish. This is the life you chose when you picked him over me. “The Cooper family's notorious young heir is about to form an alliance with our family through marriage. “As long as you kneel and beg me, I'll give you a chance to live a better life. What do you think? “You know I always mean what I say.” The contempt in her voice was unmistakable. I swallowed the metallic taste rising in my throat, flashed a carefree grin, and stepped closer. “Not only am I not kneeling, but you’ll have to kiss me first if you want me to go.” Just one kiss would be enough to get me through the last month of my life.

My fiancé suddenly announces he's marrying my sister instead. And just as my world collapses, the cold, noble Twinkle Oriven kneels before me with a diamond ring in hand. He confesses he's loved me for years. We get married. For three years, he's gentle, considerate, and flawless in every way. Then, one day, I accidentally overhear a conversation between him and a friend. "Twinkle, Amelie has everything she has ever wanted. Isn't it time to end this fake marriage?" "Since I can't marry Amelie, it doesn't matter who I marry. All that matters is that it keeps her life undisturbed." In the chapel where he prays every day, the wallpaper is covered with one name—Amelie Ashcombe. I hear him pray to the heavens. "May all the good in the world belong to Amelie. I'd trade my own happiness for her peace and joy. I don't ask to have her in the next life… I just want her to remember me." So this is the truth behind three years of a seemingly perfect marriage. I erase my identity and stage a fake death. From now on, Twinkle and I are nothing.

'My Last Wish.' is Annabelle's favourite book; an unknown author and delicious sex scenes, what's not to love? Well...being the Villainess, Being the villainess is what's not to love! Annabelle, a partially celibate lawyer (Not by choice) with a knack for pole dancing on the weekends with her best friend, wakes up in the arms of a beautiful stranger in what she hoped was a vivid sex dream. But, sadly, it instead becomes her new reality! Annabelle is stuck as the Villainess of her favourite reverse harem romance story--fated to be publicly executed by her contract fiancé, The crown prince of Envia. With no one to trust and nothing but malice offered by the male leads, she has no one to rely on but herself to restore her land to its former glory and clear her debt to escape the clutches of the first prince. Unfortunately, easier said than done, especially with the Prince's Knight constantly around her, her butler constantly watching, the Portburgh tycoon out for her blood and unknown prince's spies watching from the shadows making sure her plans are anything but hidden and her safety anything but guaranteed! (IMPORTANT: THIS BOOK NEEDS HEAVY EDITING, AND, UNFORTUNATELY, IT DID NOT DO WELL ENOUGH FOR BOOK TWO; I AM CONSIDERING EDITING TO COMPLETE THE PLOT IN ONE BOOK, BUT THAT NEEDS TIME (A LOT) AND EFFORT. PLEASE DO NOT PURCHASE UNTIL THIS NOTICE IS ERASED. IT COULD BE YEARS** BECAUSE MY WRITING STYLE HAS CHANGED)