Good Novels To Read Online

My mother was asking me and my sister to choose the man we wanted to marry. My sister, surprisingly, did not choose the gloomy STEM student she spent four years pursuing. Instead, she went for the rich but infamous playboy. Shock colored my mother's face. "I know he's rich, Joan, but what if you get all known and unknown STDs? I thought you loved Gil. Are you sure you're making the right choice?" That did not sway my sister's mind. That alone told me what I had been suspecting all along. Like me, my sister was reincarnated. In our previous lives, she happily married Gilbert Terrason, but he left her on read for ten long years. His cold treatment drove her a little gaga. That playboy, however, stopped his philandering lifestyle for me and loved me like his life depended on it. He gave me all his riches, and we became the model couple everyone wouldn't stop talking about. Then, it happened during the ball. On my tenth wedding anniversary, my sister, consumed by rage, burned us into cinders. Here we were, on our second chance in life. This time, I took Gilbert's hand. "No takebacks, Joan. Don't try to do a third take." My sister snickered. "As to you. This time, all the love in the world is coming to me." Ah, yes, love. Joan still did not get it. Love was the most unreliable element in any marriage.

The housekeeper deliberately reveals her busty chest when I'm out of the house. She says coquettishly to my husband, "Oh, my. This is an accident, Mr. Houston …" My husband looks like he's focusing on his drink, but he keeps sneaking looks at her. I see all of this from the housekeeper's livestream.

My husband's ex, Sarah Miller, once ditched him to chase a rich guy. When she came back, she was crippled, dragging along two scrawny kids. The day I found out I was pregnant, Jake Carter demanded a divorce. "Sarah is too weak to manage alone, and her kids need someone. I've got to step up," he said. I nodded calmly and went straight to the hospital for an abortion. In my past life, I fought to keep the baby and refused the divorce, even exposing Sarah's dirty secrets to the world. Her reputation was ruined. She became a pariah, and eventually, she took her kids and ended it all. In her blood-soaked suicide note, she blamed me for driving her to despair. Thus, Jake hated me to the core. He hired thugs to assault me, posted the video online, and spread lies that I was a cheater. In the end, he threw me and our child into the sea. As I died, he snarled, "This is what you get for killing Sarah!" When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day he demanded a divorce. This time, I agreed on the spot. Jake was thrilled, dreaming of winning Sarah back. What he didn't know was that, in my past life, I uncovered why Sarah was dumped. Her private life was a mess, and she caught AIDS.

On our wedding anniversary, my CEO husband, Michael Grant, invited me to watch the ocean with him. Tragically, a typhoon hit. I stood there in the raging wind and rain for over two hours, and he never showed up. In the end, all I got was a text that he was suddenly going on a business trip and couldn’t make it. Right after that, his intern, Nora Blake, posted a video on her social feed. It showed my usually pampered husband barefoot while helping fishermen haul crates of seafood. Her caption read: "Our hardworking CEO loves to get his hands dirty!" I laughed and commented: "Diligent and enduring—a true role model for us all." The company Slack channel instantly exploded. Everyone was betting on whether I’d finally blow up this time. Michael called me, his voice tight with fury, "Lauren West! What the heck did you mean by posting that comment? Are you trying to humiliate Nora in public? "It was a typhoon. I helped her family move some fish. What’s the big deal? You’re such a pampered little princess who has no idea how hard life really is. Delete that comment now. I’ll take you to the coast another day." Disgust churned in me. I replied, "Let a man who’s already rolled in the mud take me to the ocean? Forget it." Yes. Michael was now tainted, and I didn’t want him anymore.

"Ms. Stout, please read the requirements carefully. Once you submit your personal profile and sign up, all of your information will be sealed. You must then enter the research institute within 15 working days. Until the research results are made public, you will not be allowed to leave." The response from the National Academy of Sciences Research Institute came quickly, accompanied by a form. Shermaine Stout stared at the screen, but the mouse in her hand suddenly felt as heavy as lead. The door to her room suddenly swung open, and Shermaine blinked, quickly closing the laptop without a trace of emotion.

At my own wedding, I find out the woman behind the veil isn't even the one I'm supposed to be marrying. Instead of getting mad, I give her the wedding of the century. It's all because of what happened in my past life. I'd exposed that she wasn't my bride in front of everyone and blew up the whole ceremony. That forced Jessie Clarke, who'd been at the hospital with her childhood sweetheart, Oliver Grant, to rush over reluctantly so we could still get married. Because of that, Oliver refused treatment and died on the operating table. When I heard he was gone, I told Jessie she should see him one last time, but she refused. All she said was, "Blame it on his bad luck." After we got married, we acted just as in love as before. I kept getting money from my family to save her company every time it was on the verge of collapse. But on the anniversary of Oliver's death, Jessie shoved me off the top floor of her company. I hit the ground hard enough to end up a broken, bloody mess. As I fell, I caught one last look at her face, streaked with tears. "If you hadn't forced me back to marry you, Oliver wouldn't have died! You get to keep me, but I lost him for good! Why do you get to live a happy life?" So that was it. She'd blamed me for Oliver's death from the start. She'd never loved me at all. The next time I opened my eyes, I was back at our wedding ceremony.

Even knowing that wailing at an Eravalen aristocratic funeral was considered disrespectful to the deceased, I let my husband's adopted sister make a scene anyway. In my previous life, my husband, Robert Baker, had a distant relative among the Eravalen aristocracy who passed away. A lawyer informed him that he stood to inherit the estate and invited him to attend the funeral. His adopted sister, Mia Carter, insisted on tagging along to see how the privileged few in another country lived. She wanted to rub shoulders with nobles and make herself look important, even planning to wail dramatically in front of everyone. I rushed to stop her. "Public mourning is taboo among Eravalen nobility. Forget inheriting anything. We'll all be thrown out!" Yet she burst into tears, accusing me of looking down on her and thinking she was not good enough to mingle with aristocrats. She stormed out and was killed by street thugs in a random attack. I thought Robert would fall apart, but he stayed silent through the entire funeral and collected his inheritance without a hitch. Six months later, on our wedding anniversary, he took me to the snowy mountains for a photoshoot. The moment we reached the peak, he shoved me into a sleeping bag and tied it shut. "If you hadn't blown everything out of proportion, Mia never would've run off and gotten herself shot." He buried me alive in the snow. I froze to death, and he used that aristocratic fortune to become the CEO of a publicly traded company. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Mia insisted on wailing at the funeral.

What a small world. As Elaine Johnson was checking in at the hotel front desk, she happened to bump into Jasper Carter's young mistress —a girl who looked like an innocent college student. She was dressed in a simple white cotton dress, pure and demure, with a shy, sweet smile. "Hello, here's your room key. You'll be staying in the executive suite on the top floor," the receptionist said. "Thank you, miss," the girl replied softly, taking the key. Just then, her phone rang. Elaine overheard her speaking bashfully to the person on the other end: "Mr. Carter, I... I'm already here. When will you be coming?" Her tone was soft, a little nervous, filled with affectionate anticipation. A moment later, Elaine heard her add, "Mhm, I'll wait for you. No rush. Please drive carefully, Mr. Carter." The girl's voice was so sweet and tender, it could have melted anyone's heart. Elaine could not help thinking that her husband had good taste — the girl was young and beautiful, gentle and thoughtful, the kind of woman any man would find hard to resist.

I had just given birth when the country sent me on a secret mission that kept me undercover for seven years. When it finally ended, I came home on leave. I was eager to see my husband and children, whom I had missed every single day. However, the moment my car stopped at the gate, I saw my two children—my most precious treasures—being shoved down the steps by a woman. They tumbled hard, and they were covered in bruises. The next second, three snarling wolfhounds were released from the house, and they pounced on the children with bared teeth. Fury surged through me, and I charged forward. I got the dogs away with a few swift kicks and punches. Amid the animals’ pitiful howls, my ten-year-old son instinctively shielded his sister. His young face was pale with fear. Meanwhile, my eight-year-old daughter snapped out of her daze and trembled as she urged me to leave. “Miss, run! You hurt her dogs, and if Dad finds out, he won’t let you get away with it!” I forced down my anger and gently said, “She set the dogs on you first. Even if your dad were here, he’d protect you just like I did.” I did not expect this to make their eyes instantly fill with tears. Alarmed, I was about to ask what was wrong when a woman’s arrogant voice rang out. “You vagrant! I have a close relationship with Martin Gray, and I’m also the lady of the Gray family! “You and these two brats who dirtied my house aren’t leaving in one piece today!” I froze for a second before I took a deep breath and called my husband. “Martin, who’s this woman proclaiming to be the lady of the Gray family? Where did she come from? You’d better have a good explanation for this. And tell me, when did the house I left for John and Katy get a new owner?”

My wife, Charlene Weber, has taken me to the Scumbag Court. If I'm found guilty, all my assets will be taken from me, and I'll face 10 years of imprisonment. Charlene, on the other hand, will get to marry her ideal man—Joel Quinlan—as she wishes. If I'm acquitted of all charges, Charlene will be made to divorce me without alimony. She'll also be cursed with bad luck and disfigured so badly she'll be the ugliest woman in the world. Conversely, I'll be given 10 million dollars in reparations and gain a lifetime's worth of good luck. Everyone is advising me to admit to my mistakes, but only because Charlene has always been a virtuous, devoted wife in their eyes. They think that there must surely be some complicated grievances between us at the moment. However, they are unaware that I've been reborn. This time, I'm going to tear off Charlene's mask of hypocrisy.