Fooled By Randomness: The Hidden Role Of Chance In Life And In The Markets

Thirteen men dead within the span of two years. All victims are rich, old and dirty. Authority has no idea who the killer is. But there's only one thing they know. The killer is a woman.

Sofia Lorie Andres is a 22-year-old former volleyball player who left behind everything because of her unrequited love. She turned her back on everyone to forget the pain and embarrassment she felt because of a woman she loved so much even though she was only considered a best friend. None other than Kristine Aragon, a 23-year-old famous volleyball player in the Philippines. Her best friend caused her heart to beat but was later destroyed. All Sofia Lorie knew Kristine was the only one who caused it all. She is the root cause of why there is a rift between the two of them. Sofia thought about everything they talked about can easily be handled by her, but failed. Because everything she thought was wrong. After two years of her healing process, she also thought of returning to the Philippines and facing everything she left behind. She was ready for what would happen to her when she returned, but the truth wasn’t. Especially when she found out that the woman she once loved was involved in an accident that caused her memories to be erased. The effect was huge, but she tried not to show others how she felt after knowing everything about it. Until she got to the point where she would do the cause of her previous heartache, Role Play. Since she and Rad were determined, they did Role Play, but destiny was too playful for her. She was confused about what was happening, but only one thing came to her mind at those times. She will never do it again because, in the end, she will still be the loser. She is tired of the Role Play game, which she has lost several times. Will the day come when she will feel real love without the slightest pretense?

On the very day I sold my company shares to raise money for my wife’s medical treatment, my phone flashed with a notification about a trending post. "My husband or my lover, which should I choose?" An anonymous reply shot to the top of the comments. "Why choose? I want both." What followed was a casual, shameless confession. A staged car accident right after the wedding, a fake overseas treatment plan, parents who helped maintain the lie, and millions siphoned off under the excuse of life-saving medical fees. The money was never for treatment. It funded luxury vacations, hotel suites, and a long-term affair. Someone asked if she was afraid her husband would find out. Her answer was chilling. "Why would I be afraid? He thinks he took my first time and swore to take responsibility for me forever. He doesn’t know it was just a repair surgery I did for his sake." The post ended with a vacation photo. A woman in a bikini, smiling under the sun. And on her waist, a tattoo with the letters 'NG.' The same tattoo worn by my wife.

When her first love died, my wife jumped from the cruise ship to end her life on our honeymoon. That was when I realized she had never let go of Tyler. Reborn back to our teenage years, she didn’t hesitate to shake off my hand and walk straight toward her first love. I watched them leave together, then turned away. From that moment on, our lives became two parallel lines that would never cross. Ten years later, we meet again at a lavish gala in Rivendell. She was now the rising star of high society, proudly clinging to Tyler’s arm as they made their entrance. When she saw me crash the gala in search of someone, she couldn’t help but advise me. “Why are you still obsessed with me? Even if you’ve waited ten years, I’ll never love you.” I ignored her and pulled my son out of the corner where he had been sneaking cake. Her eyes instantly redden as she grabs my hand in a panic. “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you? Didn’t you say you’d only ever love me in this life?”

On my 50th wedding anniversary, I took my worn, crumbling marriage certificate to City Hall to renew it. The clerk glanced at it—and froze. “This certificate is fake. Our records show you’ve never been married.” I stared. “Impossible. I’ve been married to Damien Slater for fifty years.” The clerk pulled up his file. “Well…Yes, Mr. Slater is married—but his wife’s name is Vanessa Grant.” Vanessa. His widowed sister-in-law. A military doctor who’d spent decades living among the troops. My hands shook as I returned home and confronted Damien. He didn’t even try to deny it. “I’ve treated you well all these years. Isn’t that enough? Vanessa is my true love. I only ever wanted her—our children, our life.” My son counseled me and said, “To spare your feelings, my parents kept it a secret their whole lives. You’re getting old now. What more do you want?” Only then did I learn the truth. The child I had raised with my own hands was never mine by blood. Decades ago, Vanessa and I gave birth on the same day. To ensure her child would grow up with intellect, privilege, and a future that I could provide, Damien switched our children. My own son? Damien drowned him in the pond the moment he drew breath. And I—fool that I was—raised Vanessa’s boy as my own. I even got him all the way to Claremont University. The truth broke me, and I collapsed. When I opened my eyes again—I was back. Back to the day I went into labor.

I was sent back in time to the very day my sister and I had to choose our mafia husbands. This time, though, I discovered I could hear people’s thoughts. In my previous life, my sister married Caspian, a violent brute. She lived every day in fear, trapped in a nightmare she could never escape. I, on the other hand, married Arnold—the gentleman everyone admired, living a life others envied. However, my sister had also been sent back in time, and this time, she made her move first. She chose Arnold, the “perfect husband” she had always coveted. At that moment, her thoughts echoed clearly in my mind. ‘Elysia shall suffer instead. This time, I’ll make sure I choose the good husband first.’ Her malice was unmistakable. My dear sister, did you really think I was happy in my last life? Since you want that life so badly, I’ll hand it to you myself.