By The Time You Read This, I'll Be Dead Novels & Stories

When I got reborn into my youthful years, I turned down the marriage proposal of Seth Klein, the future major general. Instead, I chose to be with Nathan Prescott, who lived a poor life. My mother thought I was possessed. After all, the entire village knew that I, the village chief's daughter, used to follow the well-educated Mr. Klein around all the time. Apparently, I was willing to do anything just to marry him. I soon recalled what happened in my previous life. After I married Seth, we never consummated our marriage. He even brought back a child, claiming that said child belonged to a fellow soldier who had passed on in the war. I viewed the child as my own and made an effort to raise him. It wasn't until our fiftieth anniversary that I discovered a secret after barging into Seth's study, which had always been forbidden to me. It turned out that the study was plastered with photos of my older cousin, Catherine Parker—the most beautiful woman in the village. The thing was, she had been dead for a long time. The truth was, Seth has always been capable of performing in bed. He was merely practicing abstinence because of Catherine. Furious, I collapsed and was admitted to the hospital. But my son, whom I treated as my own, was the one who unplugged my life support with his own hands. "If it weren't for you taking over my mom's position as the actual wife, she wouldn't have died as an unknown mistress!" After my death, I witnessed Seth getting a joint burial with Catherine as husband and wife. As for my ashes, they were randomly scattered into a dried-up river. Now that I was reborn, I chose to fulfill their wish!

When Ellie went to see him with her pregnancy test in hand, she caught her Alpha husband with his ex . "I'll NEVER let that wolfless rogue be the mother of my child. She's just a surrogate!" Tears streamed down her face as she got in an accident and lost all her memories 💔. Her friend says, "You almost gave up everything for that man..." "Who? Me? Why?!" 😳 * His wife seemed different now, but he has no idea why. She urges him, "Let's get a divorce! Now!" 😘 He grits his teeth, "No way!" 😡😡😡

My girlfriend, Rene Watson, who's in a long-distance relationship with me, has gotten a promotion recently. I want to give her a surprise. After buying some flowers and a cake, I take a flight scheduled to depart to her city at 1:00 am. But the one who opens the door for me is actually her first love, Joshua Zimmerman. As for Rene, she's in the middle of hanging his underwear on the balcony. "Who's that, honey?" Rene asks casually, making me feel as though my heart has gotten plunged into an icy abyss. The moment she notices me, the expression on her face freezes instantly. With a sneer on my face, I smack the roses right in Joshua's face. "I'm the owner of this place! Pack up your things and get the hell out!"

I find myself losing my mind when I learn that my wife, Meredith Snow, is flirting with her professor. I rush to her school, wanting to cause a scene. My father-in-law, Liam Snow, tells me that it's my fault for not being able to keep Meredith in check. Matthew Snow, my brother-in-law, says that I deserve all that is happening to me. I tell Meredith I want a divorce, but she uses our son, Elias Fairfield, to threaten me. I have no choice but to endure her despicable behavior for Elias' sake. I never thought that I would have to endure it for the rest of my life. Meredith lives a fantastic life while I wait on her hand and foot. She's eventually promoted to the position of professor and is guaranteed a comfortable life. As for me, I work hard all my life only for Elias to call me a loser. I end up dying alone on my sickbed in a rented house. Taking pity on me, God gives me another chance. He sends me back in time to the day I asked for a divorce.

On the day of my bonding ceremony with Vincent Sawyer, the future Alpha, the moonstone ring meant for me, the future Luna, has mysteriously disappeared from the ringbox. In its place sits a can tab that has already gone black from oxidation. The guests' cheers die down immediately. They all turn to look at me after that. Amid the silence, Vincent's childhood sweetheart, Sharon Anderson, walks out from the crowd. She raises her left hand and waves, the moonstone ring perched on her ring finger. Then, she pulls out a matching ring before sliding it onto Vincent's finger. "You must be scared out of your wits, huh, Angelica? I'm actually wearing the ring right now. This can tab is no ordinary item, you know. Vincent had given it to me when we were still pups. It resembles everlasting love that will never fade away. Now, I'm giving it to you." Sharon's words strike me right in my heart. I tremble violently, feeling as if my heart is being cut into a million pieces. However, Vincent just chuckles. "Sharon always comes up with silly ideas. She's just joking around, Angelica. Don't take her actions to heart." "Oh, I won't." I toss the can tab into the bonfire, a dry chuckle escaping from my lips. "This bonding ceremony is canceled." Vincent grabs my hand before pulling me into his arms. "Stop messing around, Angelica! We found the ring, didn't we? This bonding alliance will affect the future of our packs! You're not the one calling the shots here!" I squirm out of Vincent's grasp, catching a trace of sickly sweet scent lingering around him—one that isn’t mine at all. "While it's true that the Moonlake pack is going to form a bonding alliance with the Brownstone pack, my future mate isn't necessarily you."

Dad is famous for being a total simp over Mom in the elite society. Naturally, he views Callie Archer, the stepdaughter whom Mom has brought with her, as his own. But Callie is afflicted with a severe case of walking phobia. Her feet couldn't touch the ground at all. Only when she's stepping on my back can she roam around in the house freely. So, whenever Callie looks in a certain direction, Mom will press my head down and force me to crawl toward Callie to serve as her doormat. The doctor issues a warning to my family that my spine is severely contorted. So when Callie wants to admire the flowers in the yard while wearing a pair of spiked shoes again, I can't endure the pain anymore, so I shiver slightly out of instinct. Callie ends up losing her balance and falling to the ground. She bawls like a baby afterward. Mom rushes over immediately before kicking me in the gut, her high heel lodging into my flesh. "It's extremely rare for Callie to be willing to leave the house! Why must you ruin her mood? Can't you just be more understanding and play your role as a doormat for the sake of your sister's illness?" Meanwhile, Dad scoops Callie into his arms, his heart bleeding for her plight. He coaxes her gently, telling her that he'll buy her new dresses later. I can only curl up on the ground while hacking up blood. But Dad just thinks I'm playing the pity card. He commands his men to throw me into the basement. Apparently, I can only be released once I've learned to stay stationary when I'm supporting Callie. As I clutch my broken ribs, I feel my tears flowing down my face as well as the blood from my injuries. I'm sorry, Dad. Next time, I will definitely not move a muscle, just like a corpse.

After completing my mission, I married the man I had been trying to win over. On our wedding night, I told him that the system had given me ninety-nine regret pills. Whenever he did something that hurt me, I would take one. Once all the pills were gone, I would completely leave his life. He held me close and promised he would never give me a reason to regret being with him. Three months into our marriage, his childhood sweetheart came back from abroad. The first time he stayed out all night, he realized that I would quietly take a pill after just crying once. After that, he began to act without any restraint. Ten years later, on our anniversary, his childhood sweetheart threatened to kill herself again. He left me without hesitation to handle the situation. The next day, he returned with his neck covered in love bites and begged for my forgiveness. I did not cry. I looked at him calmly and asked, “Can I take one of the regret pills?” He shrugged as if it did not matter. “Go ahead. There are plenty left.” I smiled and let him bring her into our home. He did not know that there were only three pills left in the box. Once they were gone, I would leave him for good.

I wasn’t even pregnant, yet I ended up popping abortion pills like they were candy. It was all because in my past life, the moment my widowed sister-in-law got pregnant, every single side effect of her pregnancy became mine. She strutted around happily with her big belly, consuming spicy tamales, while I was rushed to the hospital for violent nausea and stomach pain; she showed off her flawless skin in crop tops every day, while my stomach broke out in hideous stretch marks. When I told my husband what was happening, he just shoved me away impatiently. “Enough with the jealousy! My brother’s dead, and she’s carrying his only child. Of course, I should look out for her. Do you really have to put on such an act?” After that, my sister-in-law went even further. She kept testing her limits during pregnancy and even ate a mango she was allergic to. And me? I went into anaphylactic shock, landed in the hospital, and nearly died. Doctors couldn’t explain it. They just brushed it off, saying I was overly jealous and it was all psychological. Later, my sister-in-law tried to brand herself as a “hot single mom”. She went live, belly and all, to show off her weight-loss workouts. She jumped around for three straight hours. And me? My uterus literally gave out, and I hemorrhaged to death. When I opened my eyes again, it was the exact day she first announced her pregnancy.

My adoptive brother, Don Cassian. I loved him. The rival family drugged him. He had me pinned down. His hands on my breasts. He was hard, his eyes filled with a desperate hunger for me. But I shoved him off. Ran out the door. And called my best friend, Camilla. "Cassian's in the master bedroom. Get here. Now." I locked myself in the bathroom, letting the cold water wash away the fire he’d started in me. I remembered the last time. In my past life, when Cassian kissed me, I didn't say no. We made love all night. I thought my ten-year crush was finally mine. Then came St. Patrick's Cathedral. The Vitelli family's sapphire ring, passed down for three generations. The blessing of the Elders. I had everything I ever wanted. But the day after the wedding, I got the news. My best friend, Camilla, was dead. An overdose of antidepressants in her apartment. I was on the phone, crying for her, when a knife went through my chest from behind. I turned. It was Cassian, his face twisted with hate. "If you hadn't blackmailed me with those ledgers—if you hadn't forced your way into my bed—Camilla would still be alive. You have to pay for this!" That's when I understood. He never married me for love. It was all because of a whisper from Camilla: "Aurora controls the family's money. She can ruin you with a phone call." And a warning from the Elders: "Don, you must marry her. She knows too much." So this time, I stepped aside. I let them have each other. But why? Why did he come after me, his eyes red, looking like he'd lost his mind? "Aurora," he begged. "Why don't you love me anymore?"

I, Xavier Locke, had married the same woman, Melanie Slater, seven times. But for the sake of her first love, Leonard Blueman, she divorced me seven times. The first time we got married, she told me, "I'll only love you for the rest of my life." But every time Leonard came back to the country, she sang a different tune. "Can't you be more sensible? How can you bear to stand by and let Lenny be called a homewrecker who snatches a married woman from her husband?" The first time we divorced, I cut my wrists to make her stay. I was taken to the hospital in an ambulance, but she never showed up even once to see me. The third time we divorced, I humbled myself and applied to be her assistant at her company. I did that just so I could see her a little more. By the sixth divorce, I had learned to quietly pack my things and move out of the home we shared. My hysteria, my repeated backing down, and my tolerant compromises brought me nothing—just Melanie repeatedly divorcing and remarrying me. Time and time again, she pulled the same trick. With history repeating itself, I decided enough was enough. After hearing that Leonard was coming back again, this time, I handed her the divorce papers myself. As always, she set a date for our next remarriage. But what she didn't know… was that I was leaving for good this time.