Novel & Cerita Death Is My Bff

I woke up in the past, on the eve of being traded by my family to that controlling mafia Don. Last life, his suffocating “love” and rigid rules strangled me to death. This time, watching my father’s eager face, I just smiled. “The engagement? Give it to your precious illegitimate daughter.” I walked away. Using the skills he forced me to learn, I secured my escape. On the day of his wedding to my replacement, I boarded a plane far from this gilded hell. Just before leaving, I pressed a button. The family mansion—the symbol of my old prison—erupted into a fireball behind me. Now, I’m thriving under the Mediterranean sun, free and wild. The once-untouchable Don is scouring the globe for me, unraveling. He found me at an airport, fell to his knees, his eyes desperate, begging me to come back. I lowered my sunglasses and looked at this stranger, my ex-fiancé, my voice utterly calm. “Do I know you?”

When Matteo Ricci threatens to end our engagement for the 100th time unless I take Lydia Capone's place in the famiglia's drug trial, I don't cry or make a scene. I just sign my name on the engagement termination agreement and calmly hand over the man I've loved for eight years to my twin sister. A few days later, Lydia storms the mafia summit like she owns the room, insulting the Pirelli family and daring anyone to stop her. I'm forced to step in and bear the full weight of her chaos. And now they're saying Lydia's body can't handle the trial after all, so they want me, the older sister, to take her place. The moment I agree, my parents smile at me for the first time in years. Even Matteo, who barely notices me, hovers nearby and murmurs, "Don't be afraid. The trial isn't lethal. When you get out, I'll take you for your favorite spaghetti alla Napoletana." But he has no idea that there's a late-stage stomach cancer diagnosis tucked inside my pocket. No matter what horrors the trial holds, he will never witness me walk out alive.

After I get abducted to an underground auction house belonging to a mafia family based in Aleroth, I become the most popular commodity ever in the live stream hosted on the dark web. As the live comments flood the screen and the viewers keep tipping the live stream, I feel my legs being forced open inch by inch. The electric chair beneath me keeps pulsing me with jolts of electricity, making me tremble uncontrollably. Men keep rearranging my limbs however they want in various positions. Then, they put me through all sorts of torture, as if I'm not a human being at all. Once everything is over, I can only curl into a small ball in a corner of the iron cage. My clothes are completely disheveled, and my gaze remains hollow and lifeless. That's when I hear someone speaking in Elythran, a language I'm familiar with. "Haha! That chick still thinks she can escape from this place!" "To think that the mafia princess of Elythra ends up getting lured to this place and reduced to a common whore for us to toy with! Those brothers really are ruthless!" "I heard the brothers did this just to appease their adopted younger sister, Emilia Ricci. That's why they ordered us to put up a show. Even the people tipping on the live stream are actors they've hired to make this show perfect." "This idiot is still waiting for her brothers to come rescue her! Last night, she kept crying out to them in her sleep, begging them to save her!" As the henchmen speak, they open the door to my room, only to be stunned by the blood-stained floor. Immediately, they dig out their phones and begin dialing numbers anxiously. The moment I make out one of the numbers, I feel my blood turn into ice. It appears that the so-called abduction is just a show that my brothers have put on just to appease Emilia… I can feel blood rising in my throat. As my vision goes blurry, I think I see another man's gentle expression. That's the memory that I've kept buried deep inside my heart—the memory of my actual older brother, Silvio Gallo.

In the fifth year after my death, Oliver Rypien, leader of the huge smuggling ring that has a notorious reputation domestically and internationally, finally gets arrested by the police. At the public trial court, Oliver can be seen wearing an inmate uniform, though his murderous look is etched on his scarred face. He even has the guts to hum a whimsical tune tauntingly, completely unrepentant. After hearing the prosecutor accusing him of killing 129 victims, Oliver suddenly snorts in laughter. "You're wrong. You're missing one more victim. The police officer named Victor Patton who came from the Customs Enforcement Unit? Yeah, he died at my hands as well." Everyone gasps in shock. A reporter is quick to rebuke Oliver. "Hang on, Victor is a mole working for your organization! After a bounty on him was posted, he had nowhere to run to, so he embezzled over hundreds of millions of dollars' worth of national assets before fleeing overseas! Even now, he's still living his life scotfree abroad!" Oliver shook his head before letting out a cold chuckle. "Victor was a stubborn one. Even though I crippled him, he still managed to kill five of my men. How is it possible for him to be our mole? "After crippling him, I threw him into the concrete foundation of Joy Bridge. If you don't believe me, go ahead and dig through the foundation." Suddenly, Oliver lowers his tone. His smile becomes more malicious. "Speaking of which, we did have a mole who worked with us to kill ten police officers. But now, he's successfully washed his hands off his crimes and became a certain someone's husband. "Why don't you take a guess as to who that brainless, idiotic woman is?" Three minutes later, my ex-wife, Gabriella Campbell, also known as the Chief Commissioner of Police in Gakoli, receives a phone call from the court outside the office of a well-known OBGYN department. "Chief Campbell, please come to the court immediately. The defendant has something crucial to tell you in person."

My family is the oldest healing bloodline in the Frostmoon Pack, and I am the most promising talent to become the pack's Chief Healer. My destined mate, who promised to mark me on my 20th birthday, instead chose my stepsister Eliza on the very day that was meant to be mine. Then Alaric Blackwood, the legendarily powerful and cold Alpha of the Blackwood pack, openly pursued me after I was abandoned. For five years after becoming his mate, he treated me with tender care and bone-deep devotion. He told me not to work so hard as a healer and to focus on being his Luna. Until I accidentally overheard a conversation between him and his loyal Beta. "Alpha, Eliza has already become Chief Healer. How long will you continue pretending to love Amara?" "It doesn't matter since I can't be Eliza's mate anyway. Besides, as long as I'm with Amara, she won't interfere with Eliza's happiness." Every night, he prayed to the Moon Goddess, and every word was filled with longing and love for Eliza. "May the Moon Goddess bless Eliza. May she find peace in body and spirit." "May the Moon Goddess grant Eliza all she desires, and protect all that she loves." ... "Eliza, we're not destined for each other in this life. I only pray we become fated mates in the next." Only then did I realize that my mate—his body belonged to me, but his heart belonged deeply to my stepsister. I've prepared a fake identity and planned a staged death at the hands of rogue wolves. From now on, we will never meet again, in this life or any other.

My seven-year-old son, Matthew Hayes, needs an Rh-negative blood transfusion very badly because he's gotten roped into a car accident. I roll up my sleeve immediately. "Take my blood, doctor! I have Rh-negative blood!" But my husband, Samuel Hayes, grabs my hand tightly. "Hold on, let me call another person! She also has Rh-negative blood!" I throw the divorce agreement at his face instead. "If she wants to donate her blood, she can go ahead and do that right after you sign this divorce agreement!" Samuel clutches the agreement angrily. "Have you gone nuts, Naomi Hart? Our son is waiting to be saved right now, and yet you're bringing up divorce at this time?" I gaze at him coldly. "That's right." My mother-in-law, Evelyn Shaw, rushes over and slaps me at that moment. "You vile woman! Samuel is worried about your physique, and yet you still kick up a fuss over this matter!" I don't bother dodging the slap. Then, I walk over to the doorway of the operating theater before announcing, "Doctor, stop all of your surgical preparations! As the patient's family, I refuse to donate my blood, and I refuse to let my son undergo the surgery!" Both Samuel and Evelyn are stunned by my declaration. Samuel points at me and yells in a quivering tone, "Back then, you almost died in the hospital just to secure Matthew's life! Are you trying to kill him now, Naomi?" I just look at Samuel emotionlessly. Heck, I can't be bothered to even show an expression right now. "I never forgot about those times. But that was in the past. Now, I don't want Matthew anymore."

My roommate sets me up. She deliberately forces me into a death-trap survival game. As I shut my eyes and wait for death to take me, I realize that the game's bosses can read my mind. "Look at the blood spurting from this baby doll's neck. It's like a fountain of pee." The baby doll is baffled. It's about to launch its ultimate move, but it falters. "Man, look at how this guy is still sweeping the streets when he's so old. Does he not have a pension?" The old man is about to swallow me whole, but he suddenly gets a heart attack. An ambulance takes him away. "Oh, so this is the amusement park's owner. Oh, dear god, he's handsome, albeit a little skinny. I can send him flying with a kick!" The handsome owner's expression darkens. He instantly takes off his shirt to reveal his washboard abs. "Do you still think I'm skinny?"

After I become pregnant, Mason Clarke suddenly becomes incredibly attentive to me. He cancels all his social engagements and personally cooks for me every day. Everyone envies me for finding such a devoted and caring husband. Until one day in his study, I accidentally discover a document titled "Prenatal Blood Donation and Cord Blood Donation Agreement". My name and social security number are clearly written on it! In the beneficiary column is Chloe Reid, his first love, whom he has been supporting abroad for seven years. From outside the door comes his gentle, doting voice. "Chloe, don't worry. I'm personally monitoring her. Her nutrition and daily routine are held to the highest standards to ensure the baby is born perfectly healthy. Your life-saving treatment is absolutely guaranteed!" So all those pregnancy meals he carefully prepares for me, the mountains of expensive supplements, none of it is ever out of love. It's all to fatten me into nothing more than a walking blood bank!

On my wedding day, my best friend, Beatrice Hopper, buys a lottery ticket from a convenience store and gives it to me as a wedding gift. I initially believe that she's joking, but when I see the unmistakable disdain in her eyes, I know something is off. "They say it's the thought that counts. This gift is precisely how I show that I care. Besides, I'm pregnant and need money for everything right now. I don't want you to feel bad about taking my money," she says. Honestly, I'm disappointed. But since it's my wedding, I can only stand there and watch as my best friend drags her entire family to the reception for free food and drinks. As expected, the wedding ends on a sour note. The two of us part ways unhappily. What I don't see coming, though, is winning 50 million dollars in the lottery that night. Elated, I tell my husband the news, and we head to the lottery office first thing in the morning to claim the prize. The news quickly spreads among our friends and family. But by the afternoon, Beatrice pounds on my door, demanding I return the lottery ticket. "I should've been the winner!" she screamed. "I was the one who bought it, so why should you take away my prize?" I keep backing away from her, panic flooding my entire body, so much so that I don't even notice she's holding a knife. The last thing I expect is for her to swing it at me in the middle of our struggle. By the time I realize what's happening, the blade is already buried in my husband's chest. I try to call the police, but Beatrice yanks me back. We grapple, stumble, and crash through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Eventually, we fall to our deaths in the courtyard below. The universe must've had mercy on me because when I open my eyes again, I'm back at the moment she hands me that lottery ticket. Here comes my second chance.

Abductors bind me in a basement, subjecting me to the torment of dozens. Meanwhile, my husband, Evan Foster, dines by candlelight with his lover, Carmen Locke. My abductors grant me one chance to call for help, and I dial Evan's number. I'm certain he will come for me. I believe Evan would give his life for me, as he once vowed that his future held no meaning without me. Clinging to hope, I call the number etched in my heart. However, Evan scolds me for interrupting their date. "You think I'll come get you? Dream on. Maybe I'll bother to collect your body if you die out there." His words crush me, and I do die. Five days later, Evan stands before the autopsy table, grimacing at the mangled remains before him. Even as the police department's finest forensic expert, having dissected thousands of bodies, he condemns the killer's brutality. Yet, despite his cold dismissal of my desperate plea over the phone, he now wears a look of pity. Evan, if you knew these fragments belonged to me, would you still find me worthy of your compassion?