Novel & Cerita Asya Story

It was a national holiday and we decided to drive back to my husband's hometown to spend the holidays. One day before we left, my husband's childhood crush came crying to him that she had not managed to buy train tickets home. My husband immediately decided to let her have my seat in the car and insisted that I take the train instead. I looked at him in disbelief. There was shock in my eyes. Even my son insisted I take the train. "Mommy, Aunt Rosie is so pretty. How could you make her take the train?" I did not argue. I booked my train ticket right in front of them. However, it was to my own hometown. I no longer wanted a biased husband and a disloyal son.

In the fashion industry, I was known as the most mysterious designer. I worked hard to keep my identity from the public. As I stood at the top of business, I was invited to be the secret judge of the Innovating Design Competition’s final round. The organizer reserved a VIP seat for me in the middle of the front row and ensured that my presence would not be revealed. Just when I was about to sit down, a new male influencer pushed me aside and threw his hand bag onto my seat. “What are you looking at, bumpkin? How dare you show up at the VIP section dressed like a beggar? Where’s the security? Throw this person out!” I swallowed back my anger and replied coldly, “This seat was reserved for me.” The influencer laughed. “Yours? Do you know who I am? Ms. Reid spent eighty million dollars in sponsorship to get me to come here! Ms. Reid has the final say in this industry. Do you understand me?” I could only scoff at him. How bold of the Reid family! Did they really think they could make this kind of decision without consulting me?

The day I went to try on my wedding suit, a stranger stormed into the VIP fitting room and drove a knife into my gut. "Sleeping with my woman, and you dare wear a suit this expensive?" He ripped my shirt into ribbons with a wild grin and threw sulfuric acid straight at me. The knife was buried deep in my abdomen. Pain ripped through me as I collapsed. He yanked my hair, forcing my head up. "Susan Lefebvre is my wife. What the hell are you? Just some filthy side piece hiding in the shadows!" Blood dripped from my fingertips as the truth sank in. The fiancée I'd loved for seven years had been cheating on me all along. "What are you staring at?" He sneered. "Even if I kill you, no one can touch me. My wife runs this city!" Watching that arrogant face twist in triumph, I took out my phone with a trembling, blood-soaked hand and dialed my sister. "Allison," I said, my voice cold and calm. "Come pick me up at the bridal salon. And tell the Lefebvres that the engagement is off."

It was only after my boyfriend, Julian Mercer, received his HIV diagnosis that he finally understood what his childhood friend, Luna Sullivan, truly meant by "life and death together". In my previous life, after Julian collapsed from anemia, Luna insisted on donating blood to him. I fought with everything I had to stop it. I told him that Luna had already contracted HIV. If she donated blood to him, he would be infected as well. He refused to believe me. Luna cried and swore that she had never even had a boyfriend. To prove her innocence, she climbed onto the rooftop and pretended she was going to jump to her death. However, she slipped. She missed her footing and fell to her death from the building. To avenge her, Julian conspired with our classmates to kidnap me. He strangled me with his own hands. I still remember his furious roar. "This is all because of your slander! You killed Luna! I will make you pay for her life!" When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the blood transfusion. I watched as Julian lay there, already receiving blood from his beloved Luna. I smiled faintly. HIV? Fine.

The day Yancy Shepherd died, Benedict Page poisoned our dinner. His eyes were wild, and bloodshot, as he watched me writhe in agony. There was a madness in his gaze, but worse was the hatred, a disgust so deep it twisted his face into something unrecognizable. "If it weren't for you forcing your way into our lives, Yancy wouldn’t have died from heartbreak. You ruined us! It’s all your fault!" A photo slipped from his trembling hand and landed at my feet—Yancy at twenty, looking radiant, her smile as bright as a blooming flower. I collapsed to the ground, my strength fading fast like a rose withering in the final grasp of winter. Helpless, I waited for the darkness to claim me, consumed by despair and bitter regret. Why hadn’t I listened to the system and killed him when I had the chance? But when I opened my eyes again, everything was different. I stood watching Benedict flee our engagement ceremony. My brother moved to chase after him, but I quietly raised a hand, stopping him. This time, things would be different.

My roommate had a strange obsession with taking cold showers on the balcony. She claimed it helped detox her body and brightened her skin. I warned her, “You should be more mindful of your privacy.” However, she only laughed, accusing me of being jealous of her flawless figure. Then, disaster struck. Her shower photos were leaked online, and soon after, thugs showed up at our door, demanding to humiliate her. Instead of taking responsibility, she turned on me. “It’s her! She’s the shameless one showering on the balcony!” Betrayed and defenseless, I was dragged into the woods and left to die, my life snuffed out in humiliation and pain. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back on that fateful day—the day my roommate took her first cold shower on the balcony.

I fell asleep in my fated mate Alpha Zane’s office. When I woke up, a magical seal was branded on my face. “Blackmoon Pack’s Slut.” And there was Dahlia, Zane’s new omega assistant. She held an Alpha’s seal, a taunting smirk on her face. “Why is a porcelain doll like you meddling in pack business?” she sneered. “You should just stay in your castle and be the pretty little trophy you are.” My wolf snarled, ready to crush her with my aura. But just as a vase flew at her head, Zane was suddenly there. He shielded her with his own body, his own Alpha power flaring to meet mine. He scowled at me, his voice tight with fury. “Dahlia was just playing a prank. Don’t be so dramatic.” But my eyes locked on the exposed skin of Dahlia's neck, where she was nestled in his arms. There it was. A fresh bite mark. And it reeked of him. Dahlia let out a contented purr, her voice dripping with sickly sweetness. “My Alpha knows I never attended the academy, and I was getting so bored. So to entertain me, he let me play with his Alpha’s sigil to practice creating magical marks.” She giggled. “I was just playing a little game with the princess. You’re not going to be a sore loser, are you?”

I lapse into unconsciousness for a few days after a high fever. When I wake up, I see my boyfriend and his best friend standing by my bed. I want to enliven the atmosphere, so I joke, "Who are you?" Eric Cobb, my boyfriend, is taken aback. I almost laugh at the look on his face. Then, he points at his friend, Jonah Mullen. "Don't you remember? Your boyfriend's been panicking over you. As his best friend, I have to be here with him." This time, I'm the one who's taken aback. Unexpectedly, Jonah steps forward and says, "That's right. I'm your boyfriend, Jonah Mullen."

I knew perfectly well that open flames were forbidden at a gas-leak scene, yet as a firefighter, I still backed my girlfriend's childhood friend when he insisted on lighting a cigarette "to calm his nerves." In my previous life, a sudden gas leak erupted during a gathering. Her childhood friend insisted on smoking to steady himself. I slapped the lighter out of his hand and yelled at him for trying to get us all killed. Humiliated, he ignored everyone's attempts to stop him and stormed outside—only to be crushed by an advertising board blown loose by the explosion's shockwave. Later, when I saved a child who had fallen from a building and was left hanging in midair myself, my girlfriend—my second-in-command—maliciously cut my safety rope. She stared at my corpse and said, "If you hadn't humiliated George in front of everyone, he wouldn't have died." When I opened my eyes again, I was back in that room thick with the stench of leaking gas.

The princess of Oberlin City scorns the poor, and I'm the biggest thorn in her side—I live in squalor but am specially admitted by a prestigious college meant for the rich. "What right does a peasant like you have to study at the same college as me?" Nails appear on my seat, and the shampoo in my bathroom is switched to glue. Chantelle Gorman even daringly tries to ram me over at the campus entrance—all because I'm a poor young woman from the countryside. To survive, I set my sights on her father, a perfect gentleman. He's a domineering CEO who's never had a shortage of women in his life. It's too bad he has no other children besides Chantelle. Chantelle thinks I'm a piece of trash who'll get kicked to the curb after a night of pleasure, but she doesn't know how easily the women in my family conceive. I give birth to seven sons and a daughter for the domineering CEO. How can Chantelle possibly go up against me and my eight children?