Nouvelles Revenge Rebirth & Romans

My boyfriend, Sam Gibson, had a childhood best friend named Tina Lincoln. She was a star medical student. On the day Sam and I were supposed to get our marriage license, Tina took one look at the tight top I was wearing and flat-out claimed I had been sleeping around for years. She pointed at my chest with obvious disgust. “If men hadn’t been all over you, there’s no way your breasts would be this big.” Sam believed her completely. He started cursing at me, calling me a slut who had sleep with anyone, and refused to go through with the marriage license. I tried over and over to explain, but Tina just sneered at me. “People may be more open-minded these days, but that doesn’t mean you can sell your body and make your chest that big.” She used me as some kind of “example,” started a livestream to lecture people online, and exposed all my personal information. After that, strangers kept sending me disgusting, harassing messages, asking how much I charged for a night. Some even followed me and tried to force themselves on me. I begged her to clear things up for me, but she just shrugged and said, “If you never did that kind of thing, why would people be asking you?” In the end, I was assaulted and killed. And she went on to become a nationally famous influencer doctor, gaining fame and money at the same time. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I was supposed to get my marriage license with Sam.

Cory Sullivan, my ten-year-old son, joins a swimming class organized by his school. A bunch of his fellow students end up pinning him to the drain of the swimming pool. I spot the streak of red in the water and completely lose my mind. I immediately dash over to save Cory, but by the time I do, his face has turned swollen and blue from the suction. Blood trickles from his mouth. He's no longer breathing. Andy Webster, the ringleader of the trio who hurt Cory, arrogantly declares that he won't be criminally prosecuted because he's a minor. "So what if I did it? He started getting on my nerves ages ago! Now that he's dead, no one else can compete with me to be the top in our class." Andy's father, Greg Thompson, condescendingly throws me a debit card. "There's 100 thousand dollars in there. That should be enough to make up for your son's worthless life." Outrage, I demand justice, but my wife, Sheryl Lowe, stops me. "Andy's just a kid himself. Are you going to force someone else's kid to lose his freedom just because your own son is dead?" I stop at nothing in the pursuit of justice, but Andy simply gets sent to a juvenile detention center. That's nowhere near enough for me. Eventually, I lose all hope. I lie down at Cory's grave and swallow a bottle of sleeping pills. Suddenly, my eyes open again. I've returned to the day I took Cory to the swimming pool. I immediately drag him off to take him back home before anything happens, but alas, a young boy still ends up losing his life at the pool.

After winning 800 thousand dollars, the first thing I did was rush to the hospital to pay for my daughter's surgery and treatment. Then, out of nowhere, a colleague called. "There's an extremely urgent situation at the company. You need to come back and handle it right now!" My husband took the bank card from my hand and, with thoughtful understanding, said, "Tell me the PIN. I'll go pay for Alicia's surgery. You head back to the company and focus on work." In my past life, I trusted him without hesitation and hurried back to the office. Before my daughter could even make it into surgery, I received a police summons instead. It turned out my husband had conspired with my colleague to file a report against me, pinning the crime of embezzling company funds—money my colleague had actually stolen—on me. With no money for treatment, my daughter died in the hospital. My parents, shattered by grief, suffered heart attacks and passed away. I ended my own life in prison, consumed by bitterness and regret. After death, my soul drifted to where my husband was vacationing abroad. I heard him say to my colleague with my own ears, "That stupid woman wins such a huge jackpot and only knows how to waste it on that worthless daughter's medical bills, dragging me into a life of hardship! "Now their whole family's deaths have bought us endless wealth and luxury. Consider it that idiot woman's compensation to me. Hahaha!" When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the very moment my husband took the bank card from my hand. This time, I still told him the transfer PIN.

A Category 5 hurricane will be tearing through the nation tomorrow. The state I live in has officially gone into lockdown in all five sectors involving work, production, business, classes, and transport. But Isabel Stafford, the actual heiress of the Staffords who had just rejoined the family, left an order in the company's group chat. "Tomorrow, everyone in this company must clock in for work! Those who miss out on work will have three times their salaries deducted!" I thought it was rather inappropriate for the order to take effect. So, I messaged her privately that everyone's lives were at stake here, not to mention it was a reportable offense for one to go against the national order of the lockdown. But not only did Isabel ignore me, she also continued texting in the group chat. "We're paying you just to work! Everyone needs to be present in order to protect the important documents and maintain the expensive equipment! You should know that the more you work at times like this, the more the company can see your actual value!" The colleagues dared not refute Isabel at all. But I was really worried that an accident might happen, so I spent the night calling everyone to get them not to go to work. When Isabel found out about my efforts, she went to the company out of anger the next day. The typhoon smashed the company's glass walls that day, resulting in Isabel getting thrown out of the 16th floor. By the time her body was found, she was already dead. My parents and my fiance, Shane Cross, didn't say anything about Isabel's death. But they had me hung from a helicopter on my and Shane's wedding day. "If it wasn't for you stopping the employees from going to the company that day, Isabel wouldn't have died!" "There were so many of them! If they were willing to grab her, she'd be fine!" "You're just jealous that we found our actual daughter! That's why you killed her on purpose!" I begged Shane to save me, but he just gazed at me coldly. "I told you countless times that I'd still marry you even though Isabel is back! But why did you refuse to let her go? "I'll make you feel the pain Isabel has felt when she got thrown into the sky by the Category 5 hurricane!" When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Isabel is goading the employees to show up at the company for work. This time, it's my turn to send everyone to hell.

At 3:00 p.m., Rose Jenkins, the new hire who had barely been here a few days, suddenly tagged me in the company group chat with a few hundred people in it. [Hi, can you stop hammering your keyboard? The noise is making my stomach hurt! The baby I'm carrying is sleeping. If you shake it into a concussion, I swear I'll make your whole family pay for it!] I rushed to explain. I was racing to finish a proposal that was due soon, and I was using a silent keyboard. But she wouldn't believe me, no matter what I said. I kept my patience and explained it over and over. To avoid any more trouble, I even asked if I could move out to the hallway to work. What I didn't expect was that a week later, she would storm into the break room with a kettle of freshly boiled water and dump it straight over my head. I collapsed in a pool of scalding water, my skin blistering and tearing open. She kept screaming as if she had lost her mind and smashed my head with her high heels, over and over. "It's all your fault! I lost the baby! Your keyboard noise shook my son to death!!" My vision blurred. By the time everything went black, I still couldn't understand how a silent keyboard could possibly kill someone. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day she first went off on me in the group chat. This time, faced with the same insults, I didn't back down. I went straight into the chat and fired back. [Stop pretending you're pregnant. You've got more going on down there than your dad does!]

On the day the SAT results are revealed, the fake heiress, Layla Sanders, colluded with our homeroom teacher, Richard Hoffman, to report me for cheating during the exam. When I stared at both copies of the exam papers that showed the same steps and formulas, I couldn't defend myself at all. In order to preserve Layla's pride, my own parents actually forced me to admit to stealing the exam questions in advance. Then, they had me forcibly admitted into a mental asylum. The Sanders family claimed that I had gone crazy just so they could keep this particular skeleton sealed in the closet. They abandoned me, letting me be tormented endlessly in the asylum. When I finally escaped from the asylum, I died in a car crash that was meticulously staged by Layla. Only on the verge of my death did I finally realize that the so-called "blood is thicker than water" mentality was nothing compared to a tear shed by Layla. The moment I open my eyes again, I've gotten reborn in the exam hall. This time, I choose to submit my exam paper without anything scribbled on it. I'd like to see just how someone with a total of zero points can possibly copy off the so-called top scorer of SAT.

I died giving birth. I gave George Norris ten children in seven years and died with my last child during childbirth. Everyone said I was unlucky, but no one knew that I saw the comments on the screen as I was dying. [The cannon fodder is pretty pitiful. Now the female lead gets ten healthy babies for free.] [The female lead is so clever. She likes children but doesn't want to give birth to any for the male lead, so she added fertility pills in the cannon fodder's food.] [Tsk, tsk, tsk, the cannon fodder probably won't even know she gave birth to the male lead and female lead's children.] The comments made me so angry that I dropped dead right then and there. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back, right after I had married George. [Tsk, the female lead is so ruthless; she added three fertility pills to the chicken soup.] [Is the female lead not afraid that the cannon fodder will give birth to triplets and die on the operating table?] Watching the chicken soup Cheryl York handed me, I grinned, grabbed her mouth, and poured the soup down her throat. If she liked having children so much, she could have as many as she wanted!

I had been married to my husband for 27 years, but the love between us had faded long ago. Even our children could see it, and they were the ones who tried to persuade me to get a divorce. "Mom, you and Dad are still young. You still have time to pursue your own life." "Yeah, Mom. You shouldn't force yourself to live like this anymore. We'd support you if you got divorced." With their encouragement, my husband and I finally ended our marriage. My daughter even helped introduce me to someone new. Not long after the divorce, I began a new relationship. But just as I was preparing to remarry, my ex-husband suddenly sued me. He accused me of cheating during our marriage. My own children appeared in court and testified against me. They confirmed his accusations. No matter how hard I tried to explain, no one believed me. In the end, I walked away from the divorce with nothing. My new boyfriend and I were dragged through the mud online. [You shameless old woman. One foot in the grave and you're still chasing another man!] [At your age, you’re still getting divorced? Hope you and your little side piece stay together.] A few self-righteous, extremist internet vigilantes broke into my home. They tied my boyfriend and me to a bed, poured gasoline over us, and set us on fire. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day my children first tried to convince me to get a divorce.

I won $30 million in the lottery. I quietly told my mom, Helena Nightfall, and urged her to divorce my abusive, gambling-addicted dad, Victor Nightfall. From then on, I would take care of her and give her a life of luxury. She agreed without hesitation, then turned around and told him everything. Dad came to my door and demanded the money. When I refused, he beat me mercilessly. In the end, it was my lovesick mother who searched my room, found my debit card, and took every cent I had. Dad squandered my money on a life of excess. Not only did he kick Mom to the curb and find himself a new woman, but he even handed out my winnings generously to relatives back in our hometown. They lived it up on my money while I—the one who had won the lottery—didn’t receive a single cent. Unwilling to accept it, I went to confront Dad and demand my money back. By sheer coincidence, I ran into debt collectors who were after Dad. Dad shoved me out the door and left me to be stabbed to death by his creditors. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment I first discovered I had won the lottery.

With the SATs coming up, I hired a top student from a poor family to tutor me. However, he insisted on bringing his childhood friend along to every session. I turned him down politely, and he did not push it any further. Still, on the day his childhood friend left my house, she was hit by a car. After that, she dropped out of school and got married. Life went on. He kept tutoring me. We both got into the same university, grew close, fell in love, got married, and had a child. Everything seemed perfect. Until one night, during a business dinner, he heard that his childhood friend was being abused by her husband. That was when everything fell apart. He locked me inside our home while I was heavily pregnant, then tortured me to death. "If you hadn't gotten her hurt back then, why would she have rushed into marriage and ended up being abused? "This is what you owe her!" When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day he brought her to my house for tutoring. This time, I would not spend a single cent on that psycho.

The company just hired a clueless new intern. For a contract worth millions, she misplaced a decimal point and practically handed it over for one dollar. I chased after the high-speed train and drank until my stomach bled before I managed to recover the company's losses. While I was still in the hospital, she ran to my fiance, Edward Cooper, to complain. "I've always been bad at math. How was I supposed to know something like that!" Edward smiled at her dotingly, replying, "You just lack experience. Go ahead and do whatever you want. If anything goes wrong, Zoe will take the blame." I was so furious I nearly quit on the spot. To so-call "make it up to me," Jenny insisted on cleaning my office as an apology. She ended up throwing newly approved bidding proposals straight into the shredder. The company lost hundreds of millions. I was fired and sued. I ended up in prison, where I was tortured to death by inmates. As I lay there on my last breath, I heard Jenny crying once more. "If only I were smarter… maybe Zoe would still be alive?" Edward stroked her head gently, soothing her, "She was incompetent. She couldn't even keep track of her documents. You're still young. You don't need to blame yourself." I died of anger. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day Jenny first joined the company.

In my past life, I casually bought a lottery ticket at the corner store and won 80 million dollars. Three days later, my pregnant housekeeper, Lily Hall, jumped off a bridge and killed herself. Before she died, she left behind a suicide note and a video recording. She claimed I had verbally abused and beaten her for months, and that I had falsely accused her of trying to seduce my husband, Jayden Sanders. In the video, my voice rang out crystal clear as I hurled insults at her. "You little tramp, why are you using a mop? Get down on your hands and knees and scrub it inch by inch. If it's not spotless, don't even think about eating tonight." I called Jayden to vouch for me. However, he insisted I had always been arrogant and cruel, constantly screaming at people or hitting them. He even lifted his shirt to show off the purple bruises covering his body. I could not defend myself and ended up being the villain everyone wanted to see locked up. Eventually, the entire 80 million dollars went to Lily's younger sister, Emma Hall, as compensation. I spent the rest of my life rotting in prison, never understanding why sweet, gentle Lily would frame me and then take her own life. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I won the lottery.

The day I was reborn, I came across that anonymous post again. “My sponsor is like a sister to me, but her husband gives me butterflies. “I know it’s wrong, but I can’t stop myself from feeling this way. Yesterday, we got down and dirty on the couch she bought.” Back in my past life, this very post broke me. In a fit of rage, I exposed their filthy secret to the world. The girl I once gave my heart and soul to help succumbed to cyberbullying and took her life by jumping off a building. After the funeral, my husband, Taylor Rogue, became a devoted and gentle man, only to lock me up in a mental institution the moment I put down my walls. “You should spend the rest of your life atoning for ruining Ivy!” With three years of pills and electric shock stripping away my sanity and dignity, I climbed to the roof and leaped. When I opened my eyes, I was back to the moment everything began.

When the results were released, my stepbrother, Dylan Anderson, conspired with our class teacher and accused me of cheating. When they presented the two examination papers with the exact steps written out, I was rendered speechless. My biological parents forced me to admit that I cheated to protect Dylan’s reputation. Then, they forcefully sent me to a mental asylum. To cover up the scandal, the Anderson family told everyone that I had gone insane. They left me to suffer alone. I finally escaped, but died tragically in a car accident facilitated by Dylan. When I died, I finally learned that the phrase “blood was thicker than water” held no truth. It was no match to Dylan’s lies. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the past. I was in the examination hall again. I handed in four blank examination papers. I wanted to see how they could accuse me of cheating if I scored zero on all papers.

My younger sister, Mindy Sampson, has a rare blood condition. She needs regular blood transfusions and a bone marrow transplant. My husband, Ian Huffman, and I are matches. My mother says we should draw lots. Whoever draws the short stick will become Mindy's blood donor. In the next five years, I am always the one who draws the short stick. Because of constant blood draws and bone marrow extractions, my body breaks down. Before I die, I stumble upon Ian holding Mindy and saying, "Cindy is so stupid. There are only short sticks in the container. Every time, we let her draw first. How could she ever get a long one? "She is going to die without ever knowing you are not sick at all. Once she dies and we get the insurance money, we can travel the world." When I open my eyes again, I am back in the fifth year after Mindy is diagnosed. I look at the container of sticks on the table and smile. Then, I look at Ian and say, "This time, you draw first."

My husband, Tyler West, and I had been childless for five years. Under my best friend, Julia Morse's encouragement, we decided to adopt the child with a so-called tragic background—according to her, anyway. We treated Howard Whitley like our own son and proceeded to raise him for more than a dozen years afterward. Only when Howard came of age did we find out that he was actually the illegitimate son of Julia and a rich man named Alex Saggese. In order to flee from Alex's wife, Catalina Tassi's vengeful acts of assassination, Julia and Howard purposefully lured me and Tyler into riding a car that was tampered in advance. Because of that, we were caught up in a tragic car accident, making us the sacrifice needed for Julia and Howard to shake Catalina off their backs once and for all. To make things worse, Julia and Howard flew overseas and lived lavish lives by spending our money! When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Julia keeps convincing Tyler and I to adopt Howard. That's when I feel Tyler gripping my hand tightly, a dark look on his face. Immediately, I realize that he's gotten reborn as well. In this life, we will never step down that path of idiocy ever again!

After catching Gideon Hawthorne cheating on me for the 99th time, he decides to sleep with the fake heiress, Helena Fairchild, just to get back at me. When I catch him and Helena together in bed together red-handed, instead of feeling guilty for what he's done, he just grins at me maliciously. "Ophelia, your sister feels a lot tighter than you." In my previous life, when I heard Gideon's comment, I broke down on the spot and started kicking up a huge ruckus over the matter. I even spread intimate, racy photos of Gideon and Helena all over the world on the Internet. Unable to endure my lunatic tendencies anymore, Gideon chose to divorce me. As for my parents, they completely gave up on me and cast me out of the family. I thought things would be better for me, and yet reality taught me otherwise. I practically had to raise myself in the countryside for the past 18 years. Even if I got reunited with my biological family, I still had no survival skills to fall back on. On top of that, the Hawthornes kept exacting revenge on me, causing me to starve all the time. A few years later, I died from cancer. As for Helena, she ended up marrying Gideon and became a rich aristocrat in the upper crust. To think that I, the ex-wife, was reduced to everyone's laughingstock at the end of the day… When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day Gideon and Helena have slept together.

Everyone in class can hear my thoughts, but there's a catch—the "thoughts" they hear have been deliberately altered. During the exam, while I swiftly fill out the answer sheet, the rest of the class stays put. They eagerly wait to hear the answers in my head. [The answer for this is C, of course. These questions are exactly the same as the ones Ms. Clarke revealed to me. I'm going to be the top student again without even breaking a sweat!] Everyone else immediately copy my answers. Ultimately, apart from me, they all end up failing the exam. During our swimming class, my leg cramps, and I start sinking underwater. I try to scream for help, but my classmates hear something entirely different in my head. [I'm going to act like I'm drowning and see who's the idiot who jumps in to save me. Hahaha!] In the end, they all watch indifferently as I drown. My eyes open again. I've gone back in time to the day of the exam. This time, I can also hear these "thoughts" of mine that have been altered.

After writing an essay about the future I wanted, I made a desperate appeal to my parents, just as Aaron Wade was likely doing in the hall of a business his family owned. The appeal lasted two days. Our demand was simple: annul the engagement between us. Others might have found this confusing, but I knew exactly why it mattered. In my previous life, I married Aaron and gave him everything. I devoted my career to him and stood at the peak of his business empire. He repaid me by forcing me to take the fall for Rebecca, a so-called heiress. I was arrested and sent to prison. "Had you not forced us into an engagement the moment you got into Iale University, I would have ended up with her instead," he sneered. "You owe her this, Bernadette. It's time you paid up." Even my own parents joined in. "You robbed Becky of what she deserves. Think of this as your divine retribution!" They had supported the engagement back then. Rage overwhelmed me and triggered a cardiac arrest. I died on the spot. While my body lay cold in the morgue, Aaron and Rebecca held a lavish wedding at a five-star hotel to celebrate their union. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day I had written about the future I wanted. Now I knew what that future looked like. It had none of these people in it. This time, I would live for myself.

After dating Gabriel Lowe for three years, we finally saved up enough money to buy a villa for ourselves. I personally designed this villa. But what I didn't expect was that the gas line in my villa would explode on the day Gabriel and I were meant to receive the keys. Not only did the entire villa get reduced into ruins, but the explosion also killed the neighboring family of three. On top of that, the fire even destroyed their antique painting that was worth 500 million dollars. Since I took responsibility for the explosion, I faced massive compensation claims. My mother-in-law and Gabriel had tears streaking down their faces as they promised to help me tide over this crisis, even if it meant selling everything under their name. I was touched by their words, so I used all of my assets in compensating the victims. After that, I spent the next 20 years in prison, only to die of severe illness there. But when I was on the verge of dying, I saw Gabriel with his arm around his first love, Jasmine Wade. Apparently, they were here to visit me. They grinned maliciously at me outside the bars. "The truth is, the family didn't die at all. The painting was a cheap imitation, too. I bribed them so that they could fake their deaths and leave the country. That's how I successfully got my hands on all of your assets. "If I didn't do that, how would I be able to marry Jasmine and move her into the villa?" It turned out that my decades of atonement was nothing but a huge scam targeted at my wealth and life staged by others. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the day I'm meant to receive my keys. This time, I've personally checked all the pipes, installed seven safety valves, and taken away all the blueprints. Let's see how the explosion will occur now that there aren't any leak points! But at 3:00 pm, the explosion in the villa still occurs…