Nouvelles Tragic Love & Romans Bias Age Gap

Leon Vincent, the shark of Warren Street, is the one who raised me. Twelve years ago, a fire tore through the orphanage and took everything from me. He was the one who pulled me out of the flames and gave me a second chance at life. To repay him, we make a weird deal—a 99-debt contract. I have to either obey him or be abandoned 99 times. After that, the debt will be cleared. Every time he goes on a date with some high-society socialite, he'll toss another insanely expensive piece of jewelry into my safe. In just two short years after turning 18, I've accumulated 96 diamonds in my safe, each one marking the 96 times he's cast me aside. One day, his fiancee, Elena Harrington, sends me a provocative email. "Dearest Isabelle, Leon and I are finalizing the wedding invitations. Do you think velvet with gold foil or matte leather would be more elegant? The ceremony's early next month. Can't wait to see you there! Love, Elena." Right after that, Leon calls, asking me to pack his bags for the summit in Parienne tomorrow. I simply send the wedding gift I've prepared in advance—a seven-figure emerald necklace—straight to his darling Elena without any words. That night, Leon returns to the apartment and finds out what I've done. He praises me for being considerate. Late into the night, he pulls me into his arms with rare tenderness. Nothing is left between us; no clothes, no holding back. He whispers that he wants to give me a special kind of reward, one that only I can carry. Somehow, Elena discovers my pregnancy. She stands on the balcony of Vincent Estate, screaming like her life depends on it. "Leon, I'm begging you! Don't let her have that baby! If you do, I'll jump!" The cold and proud Leon begs me, for the first time, to get rid of the baby. Everyone at the party awaits my breakdown, but I just smile softly and nod. "Alright. I will." He whispers in my ear, "Our marriage is just a business arrangement. I don't even like her. Once we're divorced, I'll give you another baby." What he fails to realize is that it was never in my plans to keep this one. There are only three more times left before I pay off this life debt from when he pulled me out of that fire all those years ago. After the 99th time, I board a ship bound for Azara to join a medical research mission. From that moment on, my life will be mine alone to live for.

I fell in love with my Cognato, the man who had adopted me. To outsiders, I was merely his adopted principessa from the Moretti family. No one knew about this forbidden relationship. Right on the eve of making our relationship public and announcing our engagement, I took three bullets for him and fell into a coma. But when I finally opened my eyes, Marco announced that his new bride would be Liliana. "Serana, Her parents gave their lives for me. Marrying her now is simply to help her gain a firm foothold." I loved him with my life. He thought I would cause a massive scene at the engagement party, threatening him into marrying me, or else I'd blow the bride's head off with my little BodyGuard. Instead, I elegantly attended his engagement party, called her Cognata, and affectionately kissed her cheek. Because only I knew that in my previous life, I had actually done just that. He was forced to marry me. But on the night of our wedding, Liliana jumped into the sea. After that, he became a hollow shell, never speaking a single word to me again. I finally suffered a complete mental breakdown. In a moment of delirium, I fell down the stairs. When Marco heard the news, he closed his eyes in sheer agony, two silent tears tracing down his jawline: "If it weren't for you, Liliana wouldn't have died. In the next life... stay away from me." When I opened my eyes again, I had actually been reborn. In this life, I let him go. I didn't want that ending anymore. But Cognato... why are you regretting it now?

After I Took Three Bullets For Him, He Said He Was Just My Uncle I took three bullets for Don Lorenzo Moretti, the man I called my uncle. The last one nearly killed me. Only then did the family elders agree to name me Donna. But in the two weeks I lay unconscious, Lorenzo announced his engagement to Ava, the daughter of a family benefactor. The Rocci, my family, lost its power when I was ten. Ever since Lorenzo, a close friend of my father's, brought me to the Moretti estate, I was certain he would one day be my husband, despite our age gap. He always told me to find men my own age, but I just let it go. In my previous life, I crashed their engagement party, a decision that led to a miscarriage and my own violent death. But this is my second chance, and I have learned my lesson. I will reclaim the token of my love, accept my destiny as Donna, and offer myself in a marriage alliance far away in Sicily. Uncle, I finally understand. A young man is far more entertaining than an old one like you.

I came back to life the day Cedric Gramont got drugged. This time? I didn't offer my body to him. I called his so-called soulmate instead. In my last life, I stupidly fell for the uncle who wasn't blood-related. When I found out he'd been hit with something strong, I ignored his plea to call Elyna Humbert—and "helped" him myself. A month later, I was pregnant. He had to marry me. On our wedding day, Elyna, who'd gone abroad to "clear her head," got kidnapped and killed. Before she died, she called Cedric 199 times, begging for help. He didn't pick up once. Too busy sealing the deal with me. Later, he just stared at those missed calls, not saying a word. Then the day I went into labor, he locked me in the basement. I begged him to take me to the hospital. He just smiled, cold and empty, and watched me die screaming, the baby still inside me. Last thing I heard? "If you hadn't gotten pregnant, I wouldn't have married you. I wouldn't have missed Elyna's calls. You deserved to die." When I opened my eyes again, it was that same day—Cedric was drugged, but this time, I knew better.

As soon as I leave the hospital after my abortion, I send my husband, Rykel Heffer, a message. "I terminated the pregnancy." I get an instant reply. "Okay." I stare at that single word and suddenly find it almost funny. For years, whenever I gave him a heads-up before heading into a high-risk assignment, the only reply I got was "okay". And whenever I reminded him that if he was unable to reach me for 24 hours, he should come looking for me, I also got a simple "okay". When I was trapped under the rubble after a building collapsed and lost contact for 72 hours, I sent Rykel 309 desperate messages, consumed by fear. He replied with 309 "okay"s. Only now do I realize that every reply I have ever received has been an automated response. Since Rykel never reads my messages, naturally, he has no idea that half a month ago, I told him I would be taking an overseas assignment and terminating the pregnancy today. His attention and affection have always belonged to the woman who fills his social media feed—Joey Mugbrey. "It's our thousand-day anniversary, and it's Joey's birthday too!" The post is accompanied by a screenshot of their chat history. Above the countless messages is a 1,000-day streak, celebrating their thousand days together. I tap "Like" on his post and leave a comment. "A wonderful day indeed." Today marks the anniversary of the day I narrowly escaped death in that collapse years ago. More importantly, it is the day I decide to leave Rykel for good.