Good Twilight Fanfiction

My brother brings home a scheming girlfriend. He wants to kick me out of the house for her sake and claims that everything at home belongs to him. I hand the company over with both hands and leave without hesitation. Less than a month later, my brother, who can't manage the company, grovels at my feet and begs me to return.

My sister and I are twins, but my mom never liked me. Once I secured admission to a prestigious university, my mom insisted that I work to finance my sister's college education. However, my sister decided to abandon her college studies during her second year, driven by the desire to marry a man a decade older than her. Things took a dark turn when her boyfriend was involved in a hit-and-run accident. My sister drained my medical treatment funds to keep him out of jail, even if it meant jeopardizing my own well-being. I didn't survive. I woke up again and had a second chance at life on the day when the admission results came out. My sister was crying and pleading, "Sister, can you let me go to college this time?" In this life, I won't give in to her demands.

I'm dressed in flip-flops and shorts when making an inspection of the five-star hotel my husband just acquired. When the front office manager spots me, she immediately calls for security with a disgusted look on her face. "The hotel's WiFi isn't meant for people like you to use. Hurry up and pay me 200 thousand dollars in Internet costs, then get lost!" I calmly tell her that I'm the owner of the hotel, but that only makes her sneer. "The owner of the hotel? Hey, old hag, you're putting on an act in front of the real deal! This hotel was a birthday gift from my husband to me. Aren't you fantasizing a bit too much?" Oh? Since when did Ian Lambert get another wife behind my back?

After I dropped out of school, my parents didn't pressure me to do anything. But Nicole Hicks kept calling nonstop. She was my boyfriend's childhood friend who had established a reputation as a genius. I was too busy helping out in the fields, growing vegetables, and splashing around in the creek, living my best carefree life. Writing code wasn't even on my mind. In my past life, she had turned in a project just one day before I did. Her codes were exactly the same as mine. Everyone called me a fraud and said I had stolen it. I tried to explain, but no one believed me. Later, she even did a livestream, accusing me online of being a school bully. People went wild. They didn't just come for me—they went after my whole family. Some obsessed troll chased my parents in a car, and they died in a crash. I couldn't take it anymore. I jumped off a high-rise, my eyes still wide open, refusing to accept the way it all ended. Even in my last moment, I couldn't figure it out. That code was mine. My hard work. So how did she manage to post it before me? When I opened my eyes again, I was back, right before everything fell apart.

The day my boyfriend got back together with his first love was the day I boarded the flight to Imperia. "Queenie was just a fling," said my boyfriend. "I'll never see her again. We'll be together forever." His friends were worried about my ruining his heartfelt confession, but I would not. Not this time. Before I went to Imperia, I promised my mentor I would join medical research, and I was half a month away from total communication cutoff. I would have to stay around for ten years for the research. I would not be allowed to contact anyone in the meantime. And thus, my ties to my soon-to-be ex were broken.

Even after being married for three years, my husband treats me like a stranger. When I throw up blood from pregnancy complications, he's in the prayer room chanting for his foster sister, Yvie Springton. He accuses me of being dramatic. If Yvie so much as gets a headache, he drops everything and flies overseas to be by her side. When his parents are in critical condition after a car crash, I beg him to go see them one last time. But what does he do? He claims I'm cursing Yvie. When I go into early labor and cling to life after giving birth to our son, he posts a photo of his international boarding pass on social media. At his parents' funeral, he returns to the country with Yvie and demands I leave the marriage with nothing. The day our divorce finalizes, he holds a wedding ceremony with her. I bury his parents alone. Then, at an exclusive auction, dead set on winning the famous painting for Yvie, he offered a staggering price. Even his accounts are frozen. That's when he finally realizes he's been disowned by the Springton family. His eyes are bloodshot, and he's furious as he demands answers. I simply gesture for my lawyer to step forward. He says, "Mr. Springton, take a look at this will."

During a mission overseas, I shielded my younger brother from an explosion—only to wake up months later, my body broken, my mind trapped in the void of a coma. Grateful for my sacrifice, he repaid me by marrying my wife. When I finally clawed my way back to consciousness and rushed home, I found my son kneeling on the ground, sobbing as his college acceptance letter lay shredded in his fists. My nephew loomed over him, slamming a steel pipe into his back. "Lick my shoes clean," he sneered. "Who are you to think you deserve an education?" And there was my wife clapping in delight, dabbing the sweat from my nephew’s brow like a doting servant. "You’re just like your deadbeat father," My wife spat. "Born to be my stepping stone." My eyes bloodshot, I tightened my fists. Every last one of them would pay for this dearly.

On a rainy day, I gave my pregnant neighbor a ride home since it was on my way. As a result, she became clingy and started insisting I drive her home every day. When I refused, she teared up and accused me of lacking compassion. Her husband even showed up at my door, demanding, "Why won't you take my wife to and from work? Are you looking down on us?" In the end, I sold my car and moved to a new place. If I couldn’t afford to offend them, at least I could avoid them!

I was treating some friends to dinner at the private club my cousin owned. When we wrapped up, I waved over a server. "Just put it on Nick's tab." The server nodded, but a manager I'd never seen stepped in to block her. Wearing a smile that never reached her eyes, she said, "Sir, Bosco is a members-only establishment. We don't offer tabs." I felt a flicker of irritation. "I'm the owner's cousin. Just let him know." She let out a sharp, mocking laugh and slapped a bill onto the table. Eighty-eight thousand. Exclusive suite atmosphere maintenance fee, ten thousand. High‑end social network filtration fee, twenty thousand. Spontaneous entertainment ambience enhancement fee, fifteen thousand. And a mess of other miscellaneous charges. Since when did Nick's place dare to bleed customers dry like this? "What's wrong? Can't pay and now you're trying to name‑drop?" She looked me up and down with an arrogant tilt of her chin. "I've seen plenty of our boss's relatives. Not one of them is as broke, pretentious, and shameless as you." Right in front of her, I dialed Nick and put the call on speaker. "Ten minutes," I said. "Make sure she disappears from my sight. Otherwise, I'm revoking your authorization for this club."

In my previous life, I was eight months pregnant when my mother-in-law and husband forcibly dragged me to grab decorative gift boxes from the Christmas tree. I told them there was nothing inside, but my mother-in-law slapped me across the face while my husband pulled me into the crowd. A stampede broke out. They clutched their gift boxes and fled to save themselves, while my child and I were trampled to death. They eagerly tore open all the gift boxes with high hopes, only to find exactly nothing, just like I'd warned them. But as I lay dying, I noticed something in the final gift box. A Black Widow spider with an hourglass pattern on its belly crawled onto my mother-in-law's hand. This spider carries deadly venom. Anyone bitten either dies or suffers permanent disability. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on Christmas Day. This time, watching my mother-in-law and husband gear up to fight over those Christmas gift boxes, I won't try to stop them!