Historias cortas y novelas de Reborn Karma

The first thing I do after being reborn is dump my devoted boyfriend and immediately say yes to the obsessive man's pursuit. In my past life, my so-called best friend, Sarah Cole, bound herself to an app that could transfer all of my boyfriend's love for me to her. My boyfriend was Luke Spencer. The golden roses he prepared for me ended up with her. The hotel he bought for me suddenly had her name on the deed. The way he looked at me shifted from fierce desire to cold disdain, but when he turned to her, his eyes overflowed with the tenderness I once knew so well. When I cried and demanded to know why Luke had changed, he just looked at me with disgust as he spat, "We broke up a long time ago. Leave my girlfriend alone!" On my birthday, Sarah went live online, flaunting how Luke had rented out the entire amusement park for her. Fireworks lit up the sky behind her in a blaze of color. And me? They worked together to have me thrown into a mental hospital. They called me a crazy woman obsessed with someone who never loved me back, and in endless rounds of electroshock therapy and forced medication, I died in despair. When I open my eyes again, I'm reborn. This time, I no longer feel anything real for my ex-boyfriend. Instead, I play along with Ethan Grant. I find it funny when Sarah opens the app again, siphoning away every drop of Ethan's overwhelming love. I really want to know if she can handle it.

My younger sister, Sophia Ashford, got pregnant before marriage. To protect her reputation before marrying into a wealthy family, she abandoned the baby at our doorstep after giving birth. Our parents, Owen and Julia Ashford, begged me to adopt the child, Tom Ashford. Seeing how pitiful he was, I agreed. Raising Tom consumed nearly all my time and energy. I lost my original job and ended up washing dishes and carrying trays, juggling three jobs on my own just to survive. When Tom grew up and was accepted into a top university, Sophia suddenly returned, crying and accusing me of stealing her child. She had successfully married into a wealthy family and lived happily with her CEO husband, Sebastian Langford, for years. Now, she wanted Tom, who had already grown into someone accomplished, back. "She was the one who stole my baby! I finally found you, my precious child! Your CEO father is rewarding you with a million dollars for getting into university. Work hard and inherit the family business in the future!" Just like that, the son I had raised for over a decade threw himself into her arms without hesitation and cut off all ties with me. The situation spiraled out of control. Our parents were ashamed of me and kicked me out of the house. To prove my innocence, I drove to the police station to retrieve surveillance footage from back then, but I died in a car accident on the way. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I discovered the abandoned baby. This time, I didn’t hesitate. I called the police immediately.

After the night of the full moon, my daughter - Lily was declared lost to the Rampage—her mind shattered, her wolf consumed by madness. Pack law is clear: when a wolf-blood is deemed uncontrollable, their guardian must sign the Blood Pact. The moment the pact takes effect, their body belongs to the pack. My Alpha husband, Liam Blackwood, urged me to sign. He said it was an honor to serve the pack. He said our daughter would have wanted to save other pups. Holding our daughter's broken, wasted body, I wept until I had nothing left. But that night, at the end of the corridor, I heard her voice. Elena Vance. The pack's youngest Shaman Healer. And the woman Liam had loved before me—the one who got away. "Lily's marrow is a perfect match." "Once Sophie signs the Blood Pact, I can harvest the marrow and brew the antidote. It will save your daughter. Our daughter." Later, Elena's daughter walked out of that treatment center, healthy and whole. My daughter walked out in an urn. I stormed the Alpha Mansion to demand the truth. But before I could speak, Dark Magic ripped through my veins. My wolf surfaced against my will—violent, uncontrollable. The pack guards tore me apart. My last sight was Liam shielding Elena and her daughter from the bloodshed. "Don't look," he murmured, covering their eyes. "You'll have nightmares." I died clutching the wolf fang necklace my daughter left behind—burning with hatred, drowning in regret. Then I opened my eyes. I was back in the treatment center. Back in that sterile white room. Back before I signed my daughter's life away. I turned to the bed where my little girl thrashed against iron chains. This time, I swore it: They will pay. In blood.

My coming-of-age ceremony was supposed to be a celebration. My father, the Alpha of Alphas, had invited every powerful pack in the land. His goal: for me to choose a mate from the land's strongest Alphas. I chose the most powerful of them all, Alpha Lukas. But my sister Lyla, my father's bastard, was only allowed a lowly beta. She was slaughtered in the forest. After her death, Lukas and I crafted 99 soul crystals in her memory. I thought he did it for me, to honor my fallen sister. But then he killed me in battle. With his bare hands. "You bitch! If you hadn't chosen me, Lyla would have been my mate!" Only then did I learn the truth. He had only ever loved Lyla. He hated me for stealing the life that should have been hers. Those 99 soul crystals… they weren't for her memory. They were for my penance. I died in a sea of despair. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of my ceremony. Facing the most powerful Alphas in the world, I walked past them all and chose the one no one wanted. The half-breed outcast despised by all. Salome.

In my past life, right before sitting for the college entrance exams, my best friend, Lily Shaw, and I made a pact. We promised that once we got into college, we would study finance and make a fortune. But because my exam went smoothly and I was the first to leave the exam room, I ended up on camera for an interview. Somehow, I blew up overnight. Years later, I became a top celebrity, while Lily was sent to prison for financial fraud. When she got out, I gave her a million dollars to help her get back on her feet. She repaid me by quietly forging lies about me, whipping up a wave of online hate, and doing everything she could to destroy me. I traced the truth and confronted her, but she snapped back at me, "What gives you the right to stare down at me from your lofty throne and throw me scraps, Hannah Linden? I'm prettier than you, and my grades were better than yours. Why did you get the better life?" She laid out a plan to get back at me. She knocked me out and slashed my face. She also gouged out my eyes and cut out my tongue before stuffing me into a freezer, leaving me there to freeze to death. When I open my eyes again, I find myself reborn in my senior-year classroom. There's just over a month left for the college entrance exams. I look at Lily, who sits to my left and whispers to me. I smile at her, my eyes glinting with ice and venom.

In the third year of my relationship with Dante Santoro, heir to the Santoro family fortune, I got pregnant. The night before the Don's birthday banquet, he finally brought me home as his girlfriend. Giulia Costa, the housekeeper's daughter, smiled sweetly and asked about my food allergies. I mentioned I was allergic to truffles. In the end, every dish at dinner was loaded with truffles. I swallowed my irritation and grabbed a slice of cake that looked safe. Two bites in, I heard her laugh. "I got creative and mixed truffle powder into the frosting. How is it?" Before I could answer, my throat closed up and I could not breathe. Giulia gasped and covered her mouth. "Ms. Leone, your skin is turning purple! Do you have some kind of contagious disease?" Everyone watched as I was carried out like trash. The moment my allergic reaction cleared up, Giulia insisted on helping me pack. I told her multiple times not to touch my ring. In the few minutes I spent in the bathroom, she "accidentally" knocked it down the drain. That was the wedding ring Dante gave me. I lost my temper and confronted her, but Dante just laughed it off. "She's jealous of your pretty ring. Don't be so petty." That night, Giulia brought sleep-aid drinks to my room as an apology. Dante convinced me to accept her peace offering. I drank a few cups and felt drowsy almost immediately. When Giulia walked me back to my room, I told her to lock the door behind her. Ten minutes later, a group of men shoved their way inside and beat my stomach until I miscarried. The baby was gone. Giulia's eyes filled with tears as she claimed she never saw anyone enter. She said I never wanted the Santoro family to have an heir and had orchestrated my own abortion. Dante went white with rage and ordered his men to dump me in the ocean. When I opened my eyes again, it was the night before the banquet.

My best friend, Emily Summers, who had always been terrified of dogs, suddenly told me she was planning to buy a pet dog. That’s when I knew that she had been reincarnated too. In my previous life, I bought a pure white toy poodle from a pet shop. From the moment that little dog came into my home, everything in my life turned around. Morgan Hale, our manager who had always been at odds with me, suddenly offered me a promotion and a raise. Even the client I’d been struggling to win over for months personally requested to sign the deal with me. But the most unbelievable change of all? Silas Sullivan, the company’s tall, rich, and handsome CEO got down on one knee and proposed to me after a party, saying he wanted to marry me. I had said yes and even invited Emily to the wedding to witness my happiest moment. However, driven by jealousy, she stabbed me to death on the day of the wedding. "Why should someone like you get to marry a CEO while I’m stuck working three shifts a day like a damn slave?" The next time I opened my eyes, I was back at that moment, standing beside her, at the pet shop, looking at dogs…

My husband's childhood sweetheart needed surgery, and he insisted that I be the one to operate on her. I followed every medical protocol, doing everything I could to save her. However, after she was discharged, she accused me of medical malpractice and claimed I’d left her permanently disabled. I turned to my husband, hoping he’d speak up for me, but he curtly said, “I told you not to act recklessly. Now look what’s happened.” To my shock, the hospital surveillance footage also showed that I hadn’t followed the correct surgical procedure. I couldn’t defend myself. In the end, I was stabbed to death by her super-alpha husband. Even as I died, I still couldn’t understand—how did the footage show my surgical steps were wrong? When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Joanna was admitted for testing.

My mother-in-law, Teresa Hawke, said she was trapped inside her burning villa. I called my husband, Asher Jensen, begging him to save her. But he was too busy at some bar, flirting with his childhood sweetheart, Melanie Lanner. It wasn't until I begged him, over and over, that he finally went to save Teresa. But Melanie was snatched from that same bar, tortured, killed, and dumped. He acted like none of it mattered until I got pregnant. Then out of nowhere, he threw it all back on me, saying it was my fault. Asher pulled every string he could to bankrupt my family, driving Mom and Dad to leap to their deaths. Then he rounded up a gang of violent psychopaths and threw me in with them. I begged again and again, but he just watched me with that dead stare. "You'll suffer like Mel did before she died! She left this world in agony. Why should you get to live? That's not fair." 99 stab wounds—that was how many it took before I finally bled out and died. And then, I woke up, right back on the day Teresa screamed for help from inside that burning villa.

To help my student, Stanley Johnson, win the chemistry competition, my fiancee, Yelena Quincy, replaces my experimental materials with a hazardous substance. She leaves me a note. "Hank, you've already won plenty of awards and honors. Stanley's mother only has a few days left, and this is his last chance to fulfill her dying wish. Just let him have this one. "Besides, you're Stanley's advisor. Helping your own student win the championship makes you look good, too. "Once he wins, I'll say yes to your marriage proposal right away, okay?" But she doesn't know that I no longer have a chance to marry her. The hazardous substance causes a massive explosion, and I burn to death along with the three thousand students and faculty in the building! She faces relentless demands for justice from the families of all three thousand victims.

I'm reincarnated a week before the college entrance exam. Despite being the soon-to-be top scorer, I stab my eye with a syringe. In my past life, Marianne Quentin, my boyfriend Lance Russell's childhood friend, reported me for cheating off her during the final mock exam. The teacher compared our papers and found that my essay was identical to hers. He harshly criticized me and warned me not to repeat my mistake. However, Marianne reported me for copying her answers again during the math exam. Once again, my answers were found to be identical to hers. The teacher scolded me for being incorrigible and sent me home to reflect on my actions. I couldn't understand what had happened. Clearly, I'd never cheated, but my answers were nearly identical to Marianne's, whether in writing and language or in math. As the SAT exam loomed over me, I could only suppress my doubts as I stepped into the exam hall. I finished the writing paper and thought I was safe. However, Marianne stepped out and accused me of cheating again. I tried to defend myself, yet the answers on my paper were identical to hers. In the end, I was disqualified, kicked out of the exam hall, and banned from taking any exams in the next two years—just because I "cheated". I succumbed to despair and leaped from the rooftop. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to one week before the SAT.

My cousin, Monica Newman, turned down a blind date with a rich guy and insisted on marrying a broke kid instead. She begged me to steal her papers from my aunt so that she could get her way, yet two years after the wedding, she ended up killing me. She said it was all my fault that she had married an average guy and spent every day stressing about money. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the same day Monica was to meet that rich guy for the blind date. This time, I told her, "How do you know he's wrong for you if you won't even give him a try?" Since she blamed me for ruining her dream of marrying into money in my last life, this time, I would give her exactly what she wanted.

Lena Clermont fell hard for her dad's friend, Andrew Rohan—twelve years older. The first time she saw him, he was all sharp suits and broad shoulders, effortlessly standing out. He smiled, patted her head, and handed her a princess dress. Fast forward to twenty. He got drugged at a banquet. She wore that same dress, offering herself as the cure.

I made a deal with the Devil. My soul, in exchange for seven days on earth after I died. The eleventh hour after my death happened to fall on our third wedding anniversary. The moment I walked through the door, he had just come home from another woman's place. He had an anniversary gift waiting for me. A set of sapphires. But the card tucked beside them bore another woman's name. I spotted a pale lavender hair tie in his hand. Once, I would have fought him over a hair tie like that, all the way from the front hall to the study. This time, I said nothing. It was him who froze instead, staring at me like I was a stranger. "You didn't used to be like this. I almost miss the way you used to fall apart over everything." He was right. The old me would have thrown a fit over something as small as him forgetting to cut my steak. But ever since the miscarriage, my heart had been dying by slow degrees. When I found out I was pregnant, I was overjoyed. I wanted him to be the first to know. But I couldn't reach him, no matter how many times I called. I lost the baby. I hemorrhaged. That very afternoon, while I lay on the operating table, a photo of him and that woman hit the entertainment headlines. He never even knew I had carried a child. Now there was only one last thing I wanted from him. To drive me up to the northern coast, and bury me with his own hands. But when he realized I had truly vanished from this world, he came undone.

Seer Corvyn once foretold that House Ashveil would produce a daughter who could see the future. I hid the birthmark I was born with on my forehead, yet my younger sister painted a vivid mark on her forehead every single day. Then, a royal decree came, naming her the Crown Prince, Prince Caelen’s fiancée, and I married Prince Aldric, just like I had wanted. For the next five years, I used my ability to foresee the future to help Aldric rise to power. On the night he ascended the throne, I finally wiped away the layers of makeup and told him my secret. However, instead of relief, he flew into a rage. He carved the flesh from my forehead and had me executed. “Leanora, how dare you imitate Rosalind’s birthmark? If you hadn’t chosen me first, she would never have been forced to marry Caelen! She should have been my true queen! For five years, every moment I touched you has disgusted me. You shall die in her place.” When I opened my eyes again, Aldric burst in, cutting off Seer Corvyn mid-sentence. “How can a mark prove that Rosalind is the chosen one?” “I’m willing to use the blank royal decree Father once granted me to marry the Lord Chancellor’s illegitimate daughter, Rosalind Ashveil.”

My sister Seraphina and I were inseparable growing up. She played the fierce protector. She called herself my guardian angel. Deep down, she was a snake. She wanted everything I had. She stole my man—Rocco, a Capo in the Philly mafia's Cianci family. Her excuse? She wanted to "test" his loyalty to me. She claimed she was shielding me from his dark world of shootouts, blood, and FBI wiretaps. She maxed out the black card he gave me. Then she told him I bought a Rolex for a boy toy. She skimmed money from the family's money-laundering business. She pinned it on me. She said I was a gambling addict with massive debts. She got pregnant. Yet she still messed around with Rocco's uncle at a lavish yacht party. She got high and partied until she started bleeding. But in the end, I took the fall for everything. She spun a lie. She said I locked her in the bathroom out of jealousy. She panicked. She fell. The baby died. To avenge her, my man threw me into a rundown underground casino in Atlantic City. There, his uncle's mistress sold me to a pimp. I got hooked on drugs. Then they tossed me out on the streets. I was passed around from one man to another in pure humiliation. Until my body completely broke down. I died a slow, dirty, and lonely death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back to the very night my sister miscarried after that crazy yacht party.

On the day I received my prenatal test results, I heard a voice from inside my belly—my unborn child speaking to me. 'Mom, Dad will divorce you as soon as you give birth to me. His true love can't have children. That's why he married you. You're just a tool to give birth. Once I'm born, he'll divorce you, take me away, and go live happily ever after with her.' I believed every word. Without hesitation, I chose divorce. For nine months, I focused on carrying the pregnancy, planning to raise the child on my own. But on the day I went into labor, something went terribly wrong. The doctor said the baby was premature, and the position was dangerously abnormal. "The baby keeps flipping around inside you," she said. "It's like it's deliberately putting you through hell." Eight hours of emergency treatment accomplished nothing. In the end, it was a difficult labor—both mother and child died. As my consciousness faded, I heard that voice again. 'Haha. Dad never cheated at all. I lied to you.' Why would a child lie? I couldn't understand it, not even at the moment of death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day I first received the prenatal test report.

During a critical heart transplant, my doctor husband insisted his intern assist despite her garish nail art compromising the sterile field. When I called her out, he abandoned the patient mid-surgery to comfort her. I begged him to return, but he snapped, "Giselle is upset. Can't you wait? This is nothing compared to her feelings." 40 minutes later, the patient bled out and died. Later, they discovered that he was our highly respected mayor and placed the blame on me. "If it weren't for you causing a scene and kicking us out of the operating room, the mayor wouldn't have bled to death. This is all your fault!" Defenseless, I was sentenced to life in prison, tortured, and died in agony. My husband and his intern walked down the aisle, enjoying their happy life. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of that fateful surgery.

Alessandra Colombo, the Donna of the Marchetti Famiglia, is a Malvorn native. Yet, during her 35th birthday celebration, Carina Esposito, my husband's foster sister, presents her with a bouquet of yellow chrysanthemums, which actually symbolize death in Malvorn. I choose not to warn Carina about it, though. It is because in my past life, I disregarded Leone Vittorio's, my husband's, objections and threw that bouquet into the trash for the very survival of the Vittorio Famiglia. Leone binds my hands and dumps me into the dumpster after the banquet and says, "Carina cried for five minutes because of your actions, so I'm punishing you with five days in the dumpster, Valentina. You should reflect on your mistakes during this time and stop crossing Carina." I spend five days without water, feeling rats bite at me in the endless darkness. On the sixth day, Leone's Soldati force me to kneel in the scorching 104-degree sun to apologize. Meanwhile, Leone is inside the house, picking up a piece of watermelon and feeding it to Carina. I eventually die in the midst of agonizing pain. I open my eyes again, only to find out that I'm back at the birthday banquet. I silently watch Carina step forward and present the bouquet of yellow chrysanthemums to Donna Marchetti. "Happy birthday, Donna Marchetti—here's to many more!" I make no move to interfere this time around.

My husband, Francis Zouche, thought we weren't well-off and could not afford to raise a child. So, he forcibly took me to the hospital to get an abortion. Right after the surgery, I discovered that he had transfered 200 thousand dollars to his first love, Heidi Colman, for her birthday. Out of pure rage, I got into a huge fight with him in the car, which led to an accident that killed us both. When I opened my eyes, we had returned to the day before our wedding. In our previous life, we were married for ten years. We weathered storms and supported each other, but Francis never wanted us to have a child of our own. On the day I died, I finally understood that the one he loved was Heidi. After getting a second shot at life, I decided to fulfill his wish. We canceled the wedding, blocked each other's phone numbers, and never contacted each other again. Eight years later, Francis became a top lawyer in Alvren and publicly proposed to Heidi at a law forum. Seeing that I was still single, he mocked me with a sneer, "Yvette, I know you loved me for two lifetimes. But I am getting married now. Don't keep waiting for me to come back to you." I glanced at him wordlessly and bent down to pick up my daughter before walking away. As a shocking realization hit him, his eyes reddened. He questioned furiously, "Didn't you promise to love me forever and to only give birth to my children?"