Reborn Romance Short Stories & Ruthless Novels

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.

During the year-end review, Shirley Johnson, Chris Kennedy’s childhood friend, said she wanted to take over as the project lead so she could get promoted to deputy general manager. For the sake of the company, I turned her down. Shirley, furious, quit on the spot and went to get married. Under my lead, the project brought in billions, and the company went public in one leap. Later, I married Chris. During our honeymoon, I was kidnapped and dragged into an underground compound in Morandia. I was about to call for help when I heard Chris say, "Do whatever you want with this vile woman." I desperately demanded to know why. Chris kicked me in the stomach. "If you hadn’t forced your way into the project lead position back then, Shirley wouldn’t have been pushed into that marriage! She wouldn’t have been abused to death. You owe her." When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day Shirley demanded to be the project lead.

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.”

I made the decision to break up with Layla Freeman as I opened my eyes once more. She wanted to take Charles Jones and his son home so she could take care of them, so I would logically leave. I had a lot of arguments with Layla in my former life because of Charles and his son. She paid for Charles’ son’s wedding using the money I had saved for my retirement. Ultimately, the bitter cold killed me in the winter. When Layla found out about that, she was not filled with sadness. Rather, she accused me of dying on her godson’s wedding day. I would leave her and not have anything to do with her in this life.

Zoe Jensen's parents kick her out because she doesn't want to share them with Alice Reed. She ends up homeless on the streets. She ultimately dies of starvation. When she's reborn, she finds herself standing before Alice. The latter is crying and begging her. Zoe is delighted by this. Alice can have her parents if she wants them—Zoe doesn't want to lose her life because of them again!

My husband, an Army regimental commander, was killed in action. Before his body was even cold, I didn't hesitate. I filed for his death certificate and notified the Army, the Social Security Administration, and our bank. Then, three days later—on the very day his twin brother married his childhood sweetheart—I moved out, changed the locks, and remarried quietly at the courthouse, taking my son and the full line-of-duty death benefits with me. To everyone else, I was heartless. Cold. I let them curse me. I just looked into my “brother-in-law's” bloodshot eyes and felt a quiet, cruel satisfaction. Only I knew the truth. In my last life, I discovered the body sent home wasn't my husband's at all—it was his identical twin brother's. I ran to confront him, but by chance I overheard him and my mother-in-law whispering. "Mom, Sarah is strong. And we have our son. She'll be okay. The benefits will take care of her. But Amy has waited for my brother all these years. If she finds out he's dead, she might do something drastic." Their words struck me like lightning. I tried to expose them, but my husband knocked me out. He told everyone grief had driven me insane. He locked me in the garage apartment and, with cold detachment, married his sweetheart. And when that woman complained my son was too loud, my husband slipped sleeping pills into our boy's juice—right as my crying child was coming to look for me. My son never woke up. The day they buried him hastily, I ended my life in the garage, utterly broken. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day they delivered my brother-in-law's body to our home.

My mother is gravely ill and needs a million dollars for surgery. I run all over the city, desperately trying to borrow the money. Just when I'm at my breaking point, my childhood friend shows up, holding a check for one million dollars. His condition? He wants to marry me. Everyone's waiting for me to say yes, but I calmly refuse. Because in my last life, even after I married him, my mother still died. Her surgery failed. Later, I accidentally overhear a conversation between him and a doctor. "Christopher, you sabotaged the surgery just to transplant Alice's mom's kidney into Jennifer? Was it worth it? If Alice finds out, you’re done." "I just want Jennifer to live. And honestly, marrying someone like Alice? My life is already over." That's when I realize our entire marriage was nothing but a carefully woven lie. He did it all for the woman he truly loved.

When my husband Joshua dragged his student Linda Moore into our apartment, I didn't even blink—I gave up the bed. Last time, it'd been pouring when he showed up with her in the middle of the night. Told me to crash on the floor with my daughter Mia and gave Linda the bed like it was nothing. I lost it. Fought with him, snapped at her. She bolted, slipped into a ditch, and supposedly drowned. Joshua said nothing. Then, one night, with the storm going wild outside, he pried open a manhole and dumped me and Mia in like trash. "Linda's my mentor's daughter. She's dead—how am I supposed to face him? You two can apologize yourselves." We didn't even get to scream before that freezing, disgusting water swallowed us whole. Turns out, Linda faked the whole thing. Just a twisted joke to punish me. Joshua moved her in right after, like nothing happened. Now, thunder cracked again as the door opened—and there he was, Linda right behind him.

My parents made Dana and me settle it with rock-paper-scissors. Loser had to marry the Baillieu heir—the so-called "freak." I won. Then flipped the script. "Cool. I'll take Blake. Dana can have the empire." Last time? I was dumb in love with Michael—Dad's adopted golden boy. Chose the company, stayed behind, and handed Dana off to Blake Baillieu. Big mistake. Six months in, Dana was gone—wrecked by that marriage. Right before she croaked, she texted Michael blaming me. Said I lost the game and ditched the deal, dumping Blake on her. Michael? Snapped. Dude went full psycho. Turns out, he and Dana had been sneaking around for years. He dragged me behind the Baillieu estate and forced a dozen intellectually disabled men to assault me. "If it weren't for your cruelty, Dana would still be alive! You'll pay for everything she suffered!" I was over eight months pregnant—almost due. Begged him to stop. Begged for my baby's life. He didn't care. Kept ordering them to take turns. Even when my water broke, he just watched. Both my baby and I died that night. Now? I'm back. And this time, I rewrote the story. Step one: marry Blake.

On the day Grandma dies, my parents, who have both remarried, argue nonstop over where I should go. In my past life, I feel sorry for my overworked mom, Melissa Tanner, so I volunteer to stay with her. The lottery ticket I help her pick even wins her a ten-million-dollar jackpot. But once she strikes it rich, she showers my stepdad, Tristan Walker, and my younger siblings with mansions and luxury cars, yet refuses to buy me even a few hundred dollars' worth of painkillers. In the end, I'm diagnosed with a brain tumor and die in agonizing pain in my bed. This time around, Mom frowns and lets out sigh after sigh. "Your dad's married to a rich woman now. Go with him and live a good life. I've got too many kids at home. There's just no room for you." My dad, Derek Bennett, twirls his car keys, his tone indifferent. "That's not fair. The more kids, the merrier. Besides, there are a lot of rules at my place, and those twins from Rebecca's previous marriage are a real handful. Felix is used to running wild. If he comes with me, those twins will make his life miserable." As they keep passing the buck back and forth, I feel nothing. When they impatiently ask me who I'm going with, I silently pick up my bag and walk over to Dad. Dad's face darkens instantly. Mom, on the other hand, lets out a long sigh of relief, unable to suppress the gleeful smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. What she doesn't know is that without me there to stop Tristan, he will toss the lottery ticket into the washing machine, reducing it to a pile of useless scraps. Now that I have a second chance, all I want is to live a little more comfortably before I die.