Reborn Short Stories & CEO Revenge Novels

My name is Eleanor Keating. In my past life, my older sister—Alice Keating—and I were entrusted to the McKellen family in Arborhill by our parents for arranged marriages. I married John McKellen, the eldest son. While he might not be conventionally handsome, his calm demeanor and unwavering reliability stood out. Alice married Xavier McKellen, the younger son. Handsome as he was, he was equally carefree and unpredictable in his actions. Eager for a grandchild, the family patriarch—Henry McKellen—made a promise. The first to bear a child would have their offspring named the next heir of the family. After our wedding, John and I conceived. Our child was naturally declared the next heir, and with that, John and I gained influence and power within the family. Tensions between Alice and Xavier escalated into frequent fights. Eventually, both had affairs, and their marriage ended in a bitter divorce. Believing they had dishonored the family, John banished them from the household. Blinded by jealousy, Alice poisoned me and my child, ending both our lives. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back on the first day I arrived at the McKellen residence. But this time, Alice makes the first move and sleeps with John. In that moment, I realize she, too, has been given a second chance at life. Unfortunately, she has no clue that John is a twisted man. Not only is he devoid of love, but he also sees women as mere stepping stones in his relentless pursuit of power.

The most powerful Godfather in the mafia underworld—Dante Costello—had an expensive diamond signet ring custom-made to fit my finger perfectly and sent straight to our home. He said that whoever could wear the ring would become the lady of his family. The Monroe family had long since fallen from grace. All that remained were four women. On ordinary days, we fought endlessly, tearing each other apart. Every single one of us wanted to marry Dante because marrying him meant preserving a life of dignity and comfort. In the first life, the fake heiress, Blair, secretly had the ring resized smaller and married into the family. Dante took one look at her, then had her thrown into the river to drown. “Not her.” In the second life, my cousin, Chloe, underwent plastic surgery to alter her fingers and force the ring on. Dante gifted her a staged car accident. “Still not her.” In the third life, my stepmother, Catherine, clenched her teeth and forced the ring onto her finger. Her blood hadn’t even dried when she married Dante. He coldly slashed her face, then locked her in the basement, where she slowly wasted away until death. By the fourth life, all three of them were terrified. None of them dared to marry him anymore, so they hurriedly pushed me forward instead. I put on the ring. This time, the size was perfect. Just when I thought my good days had finally begun, Dante stabbed me to death on our wedding night, his eyes burning red with madness. After my rebirth, the consigliere of the Dante family delivered the ring once again. This time, all four of us avoided it like the plague.

In my previous life, my boyfriend's adopted younger sister, Rita Wood, came to me at the hospital for a prescription because she had a sore throat. I asked her if she was allergic to any medication, and I even explained the dangers of being allergic to medication. She told me "no" very firmly. When I insisted on producing the informed consent form and having Rita sign it, she started a video call with my boyfriend, Ryan Wood, on the spot. On the screen, Ryan frowned at me before saying coldly, "I know Rita's health very well. She definitely doesn't have a history of allergens. She's my younger sister, so don't keep targeting her over the smallest reasons. I'm very busy, you know. Bye." So, I gave in and prescribed Rita the medication without undergoing the official process. Three days later, Rita showed signs of miscarriage due to her allergy toward the medication, leading to her being sent to an emergency treatment room. Apparently, she hid both her allergy to medication and her pregnancy from me. Thanks to her, I was held accountable for this incident, which led to me losing my chance to get promoted. At the same time, this incident got onto the news as a medical mishap. I ended up getting blacklisted by the medical world permanently. Not only that, but I had to pay off a huge debt. In order to clear the debt, I worked three jobs at the same time through day and night without resting. Finally, I collapsed and never got up ever again on a particularly exhausting night. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Rita is here for a prescription.

At the company banquet, my boyfriend of five years, Lucas Cowan, dropped to one knee and proposed to his first love in front of everyone. I did not cry or make a scene. I stood off to the side, sipped my wine, and wished them well. Afterward, Lucas pulled me aside to explain. "Rebecca's family has the resources I need. Her mother said she would only agree to the partnership if we married." He paused, then added, "Don't worry. Once I get what I need, I'll divorce her and marry you." I smiled and told him, "I understand. The company comes first." In my previous life, I lost control on the spot. I stormed the stage and drove Rebecca out of the company myself. She went straight into the arms of Lucas' biggest rival, and that company skyrocketed overnight. As a result, Lucas locked me in a basement and starved me to death. This time, I wouldn't stand in their way. What Lucas didn't know is that every connection, every deal, and every resource his company had ever relied on was arranged quietly by me through my family's connections. From now on, each time he got close to Rebecca, I would cut off another lifeline, another resource. I wanted to see what his precious company looked like when nothing was left to hold it up.

Jake Carter called and asked to meet. We settled on the small hometown diner we used to hit up. He couldn't look me in the eye the entire time, and we didn't exchange a word during the meal. It wasn't until we were about to leave that he finally pulled a property deed from his bag. "This is for you," he said. "I accept my defeat. Consider it compensation for your emotional distress. Your name is already on it." I didn't bother with polite refusals. I took the deed, mumbled a quick thanks, and got up to leave. Jake scrambled to his feet, calling out from behind me with the one question he'd been burning to ask all along. "If you loved me back then, why did you let Brenda get to me first?" I turned around, looking him in the eye for the first time all day. "Are you really going to pretend you never knew how I felt? You were just playing dumb the whole time." "I-I'm sorry," he stammered. "Can we still get dinner together tomorrow?" "Forget it. I don't need your apology," I said blandly. "You were a victim in this mess, too. As for dinner, don't bother. I'm resigning from the company tomorrow, and it's best if we don't see each other again." The iron wire ring I once treasured as proof of love had turned out to be a cage. Stepping out of the diner, I threw the rusted ring straight into the trash. From now on, I would live for myself.

At the medical summit, my husband's precious first love thought the old professor's clothes were too shabby for such a grand occasion. So she dropped his conference badge into the trash. The old man shook with fury and threatened to pull his company's partnership with us on the spot. In my last life, I slapped her across the face right there, then bowed and scraped until the professor forgave us, and that was the only thing that saved our company. My husband, meanwhile, was heartbroken that his darling had been hit, and took her home to comfort her. Later, our company rode the professor's patented miracle drug all the way to its IPO. On the day of the celebration, indecent videos made with my face swapped via AI rolled continuously across the giant screen. And in front of a hall full of sneering guests, my husband pulled his first love tight against his chest. "You love slapping people in public, don't you? Today you get to taste what it feels like to be finished." I ran out of the hotel, sick with shame, and a runaway truck flattened me into the pavement. Then he turned around, threw the wedding of the century for his golden girl, and drove my parents into the street to die alone in the cold. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the exact second she tossed that badge into the trash. This time, I didn't fly into a rage to stop her. Instead I curled my arm sweetly through my husband's and laughed louder than anyone in the room. "Babe, Tiffany's got such a sharp eye. Security should've thrown this ragged beggar out ages ago."