Reborn Short Stories & Bias Face Slapping Novels

At the orphanage gates, the fake heiress stole my proof of identity and slipped into a waiting luxury car, smiling triumphantly. I leaned against the attic while waving goodbye to her. "Have a safe journey, my scapegoat." In my past life, I was taken back to a wealthy family. I thought I'd found my family. My adoptive parents smiled at me, bought me dresses, and called me their darling daughter. Three months later, I was wheeled into an operating room. My heart was removed. I died on the operating table. They didn't even hold a funeral for me. After being reborn, I wanted to make everyone pay the price. This time, it was them who should be on the operating table.

I brought my three-month-old pup, Nico, to my mate's pack for the Moon Gathering. The Blackwood pack lived deep in the northern pines, hidden from human eyes. Margaret Bailey was the Luna of the Blackwood pack, mated to the aging Alpha who rarely left his den. Her word was law in the longhouse. While my pup was sleeping, my niece, Raven Blackwood, and her friends carried him to the second floor of the longhouse and threw him out the window. My baby died right in front of me. I lost my mind. I shifted and tried to carry him to the pack healer, but it was already too late. He was gone before we ever made it there. Because my niece was still a minor under pack law, she barely faced any consequences. The Council ordered her family to pay eight hundred thousand dollars in blood money, but my sister-in-law, Seraphine Stone, howled and screamed, accusing me of trying to destroy their bloodline. I cried until I felt like my heart had been clawed out. All I wanted was justice. But my mate, Damien Blackwood, and the Luna, Margaret Bailey, only snarled at me. "Raven is just a pup too! Are you really going to destroy her future just because your son died?" I never got my revenge. In the end, grief and hatred hollowed me out. That winter, I died of a broken heart. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the Moon Gathering. This time, I immediately called my birth pack and asked them to take my son away. But even then, my niece still threw a baby from the upstairs window.

Even though the prettiest girl in my class, Phoebe Jones, bombed her college entrance exams, she claimed she had gotten into the prestigious Pemberton University and was just waiting for orientation day. She even guaranteed she could get the whole class in, too. Everyone erupted in cheers, put her up on the class podium, and lined up to hand over their applications. Something did not sit right with me, so I asked a few questions. Her 'exclusive enrolment channel' turned out to just be an AI chatbot called Babble. Babble had promised her it had reserved exclusive spots at Pemberton and guaranteed she would be registered by the start of the term. I tried to warn everyone that it was just an AI telling her what she wanted to hear, but my childhood friend was the first to jump to her defense. "Maren, how could you think that about Phoebe? She's doing this for the whole class. What's your problem?" My best friend added, "Maren, AI is the way of the future. You can't just dismiss it because you don't get it." That was all it took to turn the whole class against me. They pushed me around until I tumbled down the stairs, cracked my head open, and died on the spot. When I opened my eyes, I was back at the moment Phoebe announced she had gotten into Pemberton. I could not save people who were hell-bent on their own destruction, so this time, I wished them nothing but the best.

My mother-in-law Mindy was fanatically superstitious. When my daughter Amy came down with a high fever, she followed an old wives' tale and wrapped the child in three thick quilts, causing her to nearly suffer permanent brain damage from overheating. I immediately rushed Amy to the hospital and repeatedly warned Mindy not to feed her anything strange. The moment I stepped away to pay the medical bill, she forced "holy water" she'd gotten from a suspicious temple down my daughter's throat when she'd only been barely saved from death's door. My daughter had an adverse reaction, and she suffocated to death on the spot. Devastated, I tried to call the police to arrest Mindy, but my husband Sam insisted she had only meant well, and had told me to be more understanding. "Mom was just desperate to save her! You don't have to take it this far, we could always have another child!" Because of this incident, I ended up being diagnosed with severe depression. Mindy, however, was insistent that I'd been possessed by an evil spirit and called on an exorcist to perform a purging ritual on me, inflicting wounds all over my body with a whip. By the time I was barely clinging to life, my husband came home from work. When I tried to beg him to save me, he forced me down by my limbs. "Listen to Mom. Once the evil spirit is exorcised, you'll be all better." And so, I was beaten to death. When I came to, I returned to the day Mindy tried to "help" my daughter once more. This time, I would make sure they had a taste of their own medicine.

A week before my parents' sixteenth wedding anniversary, my dad gave my mom a diamond necklace worth over two hundred thousand dollars. Instead, I immediately fastened it around the neck of my flamboyant classmate. Because in my previous life, three days after my mom put on that necklace, she became a completely different person. The way she looked at me turned cold and distant. She flew into rages over the smallest things, throwing objects and calling me a worthless burden. One day, I casually complained about her best friend, Vanessa Moore, and she slapped me hard across the face. Then, late one night, I passed my parents' bedroom on my way to the bathroom and overheard a conversation inside. That was when I learned the diamond necklace was cursed. It could swap my mother's soul with Vanessa's. I called the police immediately. Instead, they insisted I was mentally ill and forced me into a psychiatric hospital. I endured endless abuse and humiliation there before dying a miserable death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my dad gave my mom the necklace.

My husband was a Gold dragon. So was I. Yet I gave birth to a small Ice Blue dragon. Then came the news: my younger half-sister had borne a Gold dragon for his younger brother. Her fame spread like wildfire. Drakon Vexis, the Crown Prince, flew into a fury. He slaughtered my child. He threw me into the frozen dungeons, where I was tortured and starved until I breathed my last. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day of my coming-of-age ceremony—the day the dragon court chose its brides. Without hesitation, Drakon chose my sister. I knew then. He had been reborn too.

On the day my husband, Martin Clark, took wedding photos with his secretary, I didn't cause a massive scene like I used to. Instead, I personally went to help them pick out the best shots. I even had the photos framed and hung them right in the living room for every visiting guest to see. Rumors spread like wildfire among the families of Sicilana that I was the most powerless donna, allowing any mistress or side-chick to climb over my head. I simply smiled and said nothing. Half a month later, Martin explained to me, "The photos were just a birthday wish of hers." I nodded obediently. "Okay." In my past life, the moment I saw those photos, I rushed right in front of Martin and threw a huge fit, even posting all of his explicit cheating photos onto social media. To punish me, Martin deliberately sabotaged my father’s shipping lines, causing our family to suffer devastating losses. Using the excuse that I was mentally ill, he sent me to a psychiatric hospital, where I was controlled with drugs and died within a few years. Now that I have a second chance, I won't harbor a single shred of love for Martin. I only want money! Every single time he has an affair, I will divert another one of the Clark family's shipping lines away. Right now, there are only three lines left. One more mistress, and the Clark family will be turned into an empty shell.

During the May Day holiday, my roommates decided it would be funny to act like rich girls and got into character the second we got in an Uber. I knew better than to show off in front of strangers, so I tried to smooth things over, telling the driver, Andrew Houstead, that they were just joking. The moment my roommates' act fell apart, they flushed red with embarrassment and got out of the car. I didn't get the chance to follow. Andrew locked the doors and grabbed me. "Since you helped them out, you can pay the price for them," he said, smiling in a way that made my stomach drop. What followed was something I barely survived. I made it back to the city by sheer luck and went straight to the police. During the investigation, my roommates turned on me without hesitation. "She jumped into the front seat the second we got in. What do you think she was after?" "Exactly! And after we got out, she stayed behind. Obviously, she wanted something exciting with the driver." Their words didn't stay in that room. Andrew's wife heard them. She dragged me by the hair, screaming that I was a homewrecker, then put all my personal information online. Strangers I had never met piled on, calling me shameless, saying I got what I deserved. Andrew took it further. He sent my nude photos to my mother. She couldn't handle it. She had a heart attack and died on the spot. Not long after, I followed. In the end, my roommates used my death to secure guaranteed admission to graduate school, smiling like they had won. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in that Uber, right at the moment they started playing rich.

As the price of gold soars, my late mother, Eleanor Hutchinson, appears to me in my dream. She tells me she has left a gold bangle on my nightstand. If I wear them, they'll bring me wealth and bless the child I'm carrying. But after I find the bangle, I give it to the rabid dog the neighbors keep locked up. In my previous life, my younger sister, Irene Owens, and I marry two brothers and become pregnant at the same time. During a prenatal checkup, the doctor says Irene's baby appears to have severe birth defects and recommends terminating the pregnancy. She doesn't take it seriously at all. That very day, Mom comes to me in my dream, and I find the gold bangle on my bedside table. After I tell Irene about it, she slips the bangle onto my wrists. She says, "You always say Mom favors me. But after she dies, you're the first person she thinks of and approaches. Just wear them." I do exactly as she says and never take the bangle off. But on the day we give birth, Irene delivers a healthy baby boy with rosy cheeks and a loud, vigorous cry. My baby, however, is born with two sets of reproductive organs. The child isn't breathing the moment it's delivered. Before this, every prenatal exam has shown that my baby is healthy. I realize Irene and the bangle must have something to do with it. The sight of my horribly deformed baby drives me insane. In a fit of rage, I dig up Mom's grave and confront Irene. "Why does Mom keep paving the way for you even after she's dead?" She has me committed to a psychiatric hospital. I waste away in despair until I die. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day Mom first appears in my dream.

When our teacher caught my desk mate, Avery Collins, and me stealing mock exam papers just before the college entrance exam, he shouted, "The college entrance exam is right around the corner! What was the point of stealing the mock exam papers? Tell me, who was the mastermind?" In my previous life, I took the blame without hesitation. My father nearly beat me to death for it. Avery and I attended the same university, got married after graduation, and raised a daughter, spending thirty years together. I believed I had the perfect life. Then, on the day of my daughter, Emma's wedding, I was thrown out of the venue. Emma told me, "You have no right to be here. Caleb Morgan is my real father." Avery looked at me coldly. "After you got drunk, you already signed the divorce papers. The company, the house, and all the assets belong to me now. You're leaving with nothing. From this day forward, we're strangers." Lost in a daze, I wandered into the street and was crushed beneath a speeding truck. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day everything began. This time, I told the teacher directly, "Avery was the one behind it. I gave her the papers, but I never looked at them. My score belongs to me."

At my 20th birthday banquet, I am to sign and receive the ten-billion-dollar inheritance left to me by my mother. My half-sister, Samantha Hatfield, and Howard Daley, her husband, who is also a secretary, eagerly urge me to sign the document. In my previous life, they trick me into signing the very same agreement, and the inheritance somehow becomes theirs. When I try to fight back, no one listens to me. Together, they have me confined to a sanatorium, where I spend the rest of my life drugged, imprisoned, and forgotten. But this time, their scheme is going to fail—I have returned with memories of what happens from the past life. Under their confident, expectant gazes, I pick up the pen. However, I do not pick it up to sign. I raise my hand and slash the pen's tip across Howard's face. As he lets out a terrified scream, I tear the agreement into pieces in front of all the guests and hurl the paper scraps at them. I say coldly, "My mother left all this to me. What makes you two heartless parasites think you're worthy of laying even one finger on it?"

In my previous lifetime, my parents can't bear to marry Selena Madden to a faraway pack, so they decide to let her marry Alpha Kyle Abbott from the Shadowfrost pack. On the night a party is hosted, the drunken Kyle mistakes me for Selena, so he kisses and marks me on the spot. Later on, he's forced to marry me in order to take responsibility for what happened. Out of sorrow, Selena decides to marry far, far away to Londres. But after Kyle and I become mates, he pretends as though I don't exist. Throughout our three-year mate bond, I'm forced to endure the cold shoulder he gives me while helping him deal with all the pack-related affairs. On top of that, I still prepare Kyle's meals for him meticulously every day. Even when it comes to bedroom matters, I do my best to cooperate with him. Some time later, our relationship begins to ease up. Kyle no longer treats me coldly. I thought this is a sign that Kyle has accepted me as his mate. But when he dies in an accident, he has his Beta deliver his final words to me before he breathes his last. "Layla, if there is a next life, please let me and Selena be together." It turns out that Kyle has never forgotten Selena. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Kyle and Selena are about to discuss their upcoming bonding ceremony. In this lifetime, I decide to fulfill their wish.

My wife's first love was bound to an "overachiever" system—every ounce of exhaustion he racked up from grinding away at work got transferred straight to me. He pulled seven straight all-nighters to land a multi-million-dollar deal and became a legend in the industry. Meanwhile, I ended up in the ER with heart failure. When I tried to explain it to my wife, she shot me a look of pure disgust. "You're just born lazy," she snapped. "You can't stand seeing him succeed at such a young age, so you make up some sick fairy tale to accuse him." After that, every late night he pulled chipped away at my body. First came nervous exhaustion, then organ failure—until I was hanging on by a thread. I went to the hospital for tests, but the doctors couldn't find a thing. A few even hinted I might be suffering from paranoid delusions. Then, to get his company listed on the stock exchange, he locked himself in his office for two weeks straight. I wound up dead from overexertion in my own room. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the night of his very first all-nighter. This time, I bolted the door, pulled out a full strip of sleeping pills, and smiled. "Time to sleep."

Dad is struck by a sudden illness, causing him to die tragically in his office. At the funeral, my younger brother, Draco Lancaster, and my mom decide to swallow rat poison just to reunite with Dad out of sorrow. Everyone says that Dad didn't dote on Draco for nothing. But on the day after the funeral, Dad's superior comes knocking on the door. Apparently, Dad has misappropriated public property, so I am to be locked up in a stockpen serving as a holding cell in order to pay off the debt on his behalf. Later on, I finally clear the debt. But that's when I see my family, who should have been dead, laughing and chatting with each other in a car. It turns out that they've faked their deaths to flee from the consequences. Unable to accept the reality, I rush over to confront them. My family, who are terrified that the truth will get out, quickly run me over with the car as a result. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day my family is about to fake their deaths.

On the day of the funeral, Marcus asked me to share him with his sisters-in-law. The moment the news broke, Selena, the eldest brother's wife, hurled her wine glass to the floor. Vivian, the second brother's wife, raised her voice and tore into Marcus for having no sense of decency. But the Hartley family's men dropped to their knees, begging the two widows to become Marcus’s mistresses, to carry on the bloodline in honor of their fallen husbands. I stood off to the side watching, and something in me snapped. I shoved through the crowd, slammed my hands on the long table, and demanded to know exactly what Marcus thought I was to him. I called him no better than a thug. Then I turned on the two sisters-in-law, called them frauds in widow's clothing, and by the end I'd said something unforgivable to just about everyone in that room. After that, I couldn't let it go. I hired a lawyer and sued them for fraud, for a staged marriage. They turned it around on me and said I was plotting to swallow the entire Hartley estate and drive what was left of the family into the ground. My father's business was sabotaged again and again. Three key shipping routes went dark. The dockyard was seized. I was thrown out of the estate and died in a damp basement in Sicily, with no doctor and no family. The landlord found me when he came to collect rent. I only learned the truth after I died. They'd been working together all along. His public reveal of the mistress was merely meant to drive me to snap, giving him a valid excuse to end our marriage. Then I opened my eyes. I was back in that living room, on that same day. The portraits of the two brothers sat on the long table. Selena stood in a black dress, eyes rimmed red. "Marcus, your brother's body is barely cold, and you want us to be your mistresses?" Vivian wore a pale blouse, her voice trembling. "I'd sooner die than betray your brother." This time around, I was going to give them exactly what they asked for.

"Sienna, he looks so pitiful." In my last life, I listened to my younger sister and chose the black fox who hadn't even taken human form as my fiancé. I poured everything I had into helping him take human form, but he carved out my inner core and presented it to my sister to curry her favor. When I lived again, at the mate-selection ceremony, my sister once more pointed pitifully at the black fox. In front of everyone, I chose the four-tailed white fox she wanted most. Then I "gifted" the black fox to her.

When my cheating fiancé dropped to one knee and proposed in front of everyone at our engagement party, he thought I would burst into tears and say yes. What he didn't expect was for me to snatch the microphone right out of his hand. "Sorry, I’m not marrying you." The entire room fell silent. Jason Gordon froze, the smile still lingering on his lips, as though he hadn't yet processed what I'd just said. I looked at him without the slightest ripple of emotion. Three minutes earlier, I had awakened the memories of my past life. In that life, I nodded yes at this very party. Then I watched this man slowly hollow out the company my father left me before tossing me aside like something no longer useful. Still kneeling on the floor, his voice trembled. "Claire... what... what are you talking about?" I met his eyes and smiled. "I already said I'm not marrying you." I handed the microphone back to the emcee, lifted the hem of my gown, and walked out of the ballroom without looking back. Behind me, his panicked voice rang out. "Claire Sharp! Claire, stop!" I didn't turn around.

A week before the college entrance exam, my twin brother, Tristan Doyle, runs away with a delinquent. Our parents abandon their massive corporate empire and set out to search for him. I intend to join the search, but a comment abruptly flashes across my vision. "Don't go, Ryan! If you skip the exam too, your family is doomed!" With no other choice, I shoulder the pressure and walk into the exam hall alone. Yet the moment the exams end, my parents return and lock me in the basement. Ten years later, I finally escape, only to discover that Tristan has stolen my identity. He's celebrated as that year's top scorer, gets a degree from a prestigious university, and is even married to my former high-achieving girlfriend, Alisha Hudson. They share a perfect life with two children. Furious, I attempt to confront them, but they bind me and throw me back into the basement. As I howl in rage, my parents reprimand me, "Tristan was never as smart as you, and that delinquent tricked him into running away. There was no way he could've gotten into college on his own." "You're his older brother. What's wrong with letting him have one thing? Stop being so selfish." I break down completely and die in despair. Only after my death do I learn that Tristan was the one who sent that comment. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day Tristan elopes with the delinquent. The comment appears once more. As I stand there frozen, Alisha gently nudges me with a smile. "Go study! Your whole family's counting on you."

I come from an old-money family. My grandfather's will was ironclad: whoever gets an Ivy League acceptance letter unlocks 25% of a massive trust fund and a seat on the family board. Out of four siblings, I was the only one who stood a chance. Every night, my mother Victoria carefully made me a cup of "organic brain-boosting matcha." My twin sister Chloe and younger brother Mason never got that privilege. The night before the December SAT—the last chance for Regular Decision Ivy scores—Victoria handed me my green matcha as usual. The next day, my mind went completely blank during the test. I blacked out. I missed that application season. Meanwhile, Chloe—who spent her time at yacht parties and couldn't read an equation—miraculously got an offer from UPenn and sailed right onto the board. The second year, right before the test, my snobby cousin Brianna reached for my matcha. Victoria slapped her hand away and screamed: "Don't touch Ava's things!" That exam, I got severe stomach cramps and was rushed to the ER by ambulance. I had to drop out again. And Brianna—who only cared about designer bags—somehow got into Cornell and took her board seat. The whole family popped champagne in our Upper East Side penthouse. I became the laughingstock of Manhattan's elite, having missed two application seasons in a row. Why did my body crash like clockwork, right at the final, life-changing SAT? Prepping for the third time, I took no chances. For three days before the test, I ate only gluten-free detox meals controlled by a private nutritionist. But the night before the big test, Victoria smiled and brought me that familiar cup of green matcha.

My parents want my sister, Rachael Booth, to marry rich so badly they try to talk her into dropping out of high school during her senior year. I do everything I can to stop them. "Mom, Dad, women can take care of themselves these days. Besides, wealthy families care about education too!" They back down because of my words. But later, Rachael never marries into money. Instead, she falls for a hooligan in college and ends up in an abusive marriage. Mom screams at me, "This is all your fault, you jinx! If we hadn't listened to you, Rachael would be living the high life right now!" Dad is just as furious. "You just want to ruin her life, don't you? You just can't stand to see your sister happy!" Rachael buys into their narrative completely, genuinely believing I am the one who ruined her future. One night, she kills me with a knife. When I open my eyes, I realize I'm right back to the day Mom is trying to convince Rachael to give up on college.