Is 'Reborn As An Heir'S' Getting An Anime?

In my previous life, my sister thought that since my husband and I had high-paying jobs, she could swap her son with my child without anyone noticing. But twenty-five years later, the tables turned. My son had grown into a street thug, while her son—raised under my care—rose smoothly through life. Young as he was, he had already become a CEO. He was dutiful, bought me a villa, and even sent me traveling around the world. My sister barged into his company, waving a DNA test report, kicking up a scene, only to be thrown out by security. "Mr. Kieran said that even if you are his biological mother, you never gave him a single day of care," they told her. "So he refuses to acknowledge you." Breaking down completely, she drove her car into me and ended my life. When I opened my eyes again, we had returned to the very day she switched our babies. This time, my sister clutched her own child tightly, a wild, triumphant grin on her face. "From now on, you can be the mother of a street thug," she sneered. "The villa and all those riches—they're mine!"

Tracy Grant died after serving a sentence for her sister. After being reborn, she didn't want to walk through the same paths as she had previously. She got close to the villain from her past life to ensure that she would be protected and have powerful backing. Will she be able to melt the ice heart and get what she wants? How will she get her revenge?

I was diagnosed with stomach cancer, so I went online to hire an undertaker in the hopes that he would collect my body. That way, I could die and be buried. I would like to finally be at peace, even if it meant that I could only achieve it after death. I packed up my bags and left home in search of a place to die, only to receive a message from my undertaker. [Sorry, something came up. I can’t come now.] …Excuse me? I’m already half-dead, and you’re blowing me off?

This guy could offer me the moon, and I’d hand it right back. Never in a million years did I expect to run into the biggest crush of my childhood. But, of course, I have. And I’m reporting to him at the new company I landed a big-time job at. Arrogant. Hot as hell. Total jackass. Why he’s still single is no mystery to me. He’s not willing to settle down. He’s always been that way, and as far as I’m concerned, he always will be. But, boy, is he beautiful to look at. Every part of me screams "run" as my insides turn to mush. No. Not me too… Not again. I should be immune by now. I know him far too well to fall into this hopeless pit of adoration again. But maybe there’s a way around it. It’s his power that drives me over the edge of insanity. If I were the boss instead of him, I’d hold all the cards. Good thing I’m always up for a challenge. Funnily enough, this guy thinks he’s going to score. He might have to redefine what getting lucky looks like after me. At least, that’s the plan.

Everything went downhill when my Dad left us; my Mom was pregnant and with no support, then she marries a maniac who abuses her constantly. I knew it was the height of it all when he eventually murders her, but I'm proved wrong when I'm reunited with my long lost Dad.

As the news broadcast reported a random serial killing near my residential complex, I knew—I had been reborn once again. In my first life, my husband insisted on going out in the middle of a snowstorm to buy weapons for self-defense. I locked every door and window, waiting at home, anxiety clawing at my chest. I never imagined the killer could pick locks. Before I could even react, a blade plunged into me, and I died on the couch. In my second life, I didn't hesitate. I hid in a concealed storage room, holding my breath. But the door was still pulled open. A man wearing a rabbit mask stared straight at me. "Found you," he said. In my third life, I ran to the police station. I rushed inside and told the officer on duty that the killings weren't random—that the murderer was coming for me. They looked at me like I'd lost my mind. Then my husband arrived in a hurry and took me away. But the moment we reached our front door, a heavy hammer smashed into the back of my head. Through the blinding pain, I forced my eyes open, but I never saw who killed me. Now, staring at the grave expression on the news anchor's face, agony surged through every inch of my body. Rebirth isn't a reset. The damage accumulates—and sooner or later, it will torture me to death. Without hesitation, I walked into the kitchen and set a pot of oil to heat. And I waited… for the moment the lock began to turn.