Hotel Independence Bungo

Zachary Quinn suddenly develops a fondness for going to a massage parlor after I'm discharged from the hospital—I was in an accident. He excitedly tells me that the masseuse there has the best skills he's ever experienced. "They even have free food and fruits! I bring my laptop there with me to work when I get tired at the office." I don't know why he's telling me these things. He knows my father got caught cheating at a massage parlor. I hate those places. It's only later that I learn the relaxation he describes isn't what I imagined. He's long since gone bad in places that I can't see.

The day of the verdict, Simon—my fiancé—begged me to take the deal. "I know you're innocent, but Nancy's pregnant. I can't let her go to jail." Tears. Fake concern. "This is for your own good," he said, holding my hand. I signed it. In my last life, I refused—and paid for it with prison, torture, and infertility. This time? I played along. By morning, headlines screamed I'd stolen trade secrets. Nancy? Front and center. "Yeah, it was her. I saw her sneak into Johnston Group with my own eyes!" But when court opened that afternoon, Clark—yes, the plaintiff—stepped up and dropped the case. Then, in front of everyone, he pulled out a ring, dropped to one knee, and said, "Heidi Wynn, this time... will you marry me?"

My fiancé and brother hated me for ten years. They firmly believed I had bullied their beloved Linda Lowe. At my engagement party, they exposed my crimes to the world. "She's nothing but a bully who tormented her classmate!" In the viral livestream video, Linda smiled through tears: "I've already forgiven her." "What's done is done. The past is behind us now" She became an overnight sensation. Meanwhile, I was condemned by thousands, attacked with acid by fanatic fans, and in despair, I took us both down together. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in my senior year of high school. Linda was pouring water over her own head while smiling, asking me, "Have you thought about how you'll apologize to me?" I lost it right there. Grabbing her by the hair, I dragged her into the bathroom, shoving her head into the toilet. "Let me show you what real bullying looks like. Since your mouth is so filthy, make sure to wash it clean before you go telling tales."

On my way to the bank, I stumbled across a post: [What's the most shameful thing you've done behind your partner's back?] One comment stood out: [I secretly married my first love, and my girlfriend keeps dumping money into our joint account like an idiot. She actually thinks I'm saving for a house. There's already sixty-seven grand in there. Once she hits eighty, I'm taking it all!] The flood of likes made my stomach twist. I pulled up my account balance. Sixty-seven grand. Not a penny more, not a penny less. So, my boyfriend secretly married his ex.

After being reborn, I stopped preventing Rachel Jackson from having any contact with her childhood sweetheart, Logan Cole. She gave Logan all her salary to pursue his dream, while I used the money I earned through hard work to invest. She got pregnant and gave birth to a child for Logan in the hospital, so I bought a train ticket to leave the small town. Later, she said she would agree to marry me as long as I agreed to adopt Logan's child. Unfortunately, I had already made my first million dollars by relying on the memories of my previous life. In this life, I chose to fulfill their wishes and enjoy a good life myself.

My wife, Violet Miller, was obsessed with cleanliness. Yet I caught her peeling shrimp for a male intern at a dinner party. I demanded a divorce on the spot. Violet stared at me in disbelief. “Daniel is like a younger brother to me. What’s wrong with looking after him? Are you really divorcing me over this?” My heart ached. Maybe... it was time to let go.

After my stepsister, Jennifer Nichols, died in a tragic accident, Julian Asher hated me for ten whole years. He was the youngest star attorney in Vaxton Bay. He was always calm and composed, yet he never once hid his disgust toward me. I gave up everything for him: my education, my family, my friends, even the inheritance I was meant to receive. I stayed by his side through the grueling bar exam and the brutal early days of his career. But all he ever said was, "Miley, if you really want to please me, go ahead and die." The only woman he ever loved in this lifetime was my stepsister. And I realized that far too late. It wasn't until a fire broke out unexpectedly in the courthouse archives and I was trapped upstairs that something changed. Julian ran in to save me. The blaze devoured everything in its path. In the end, he shoved me out of the rubble. The collapsing steel beams crashed down on him. Blood spilled everywhere. Outside the operating room, I fell to my knees, begging the heavens to let him live. Before he died, he left me one final message with the doctor. "Miley, I hope we never meet again in the next life." At his funeral, his mother slapped me hard across the face—again and again. "You're a cursed wretch. Killing Jennifer wasn't enough for you; now you've killed my son too. I never should've agreed to let Julian marry you." His father dragged me to my knees by my hair, forcing me to kneel. "This is all my fault. I was too soft-hearted. Julian saved you three times, and all you ever brought him was misery!" Everyone believed I was the reason Julian died. And deep down, I believed it too. In the end, I slit my wrists and took my own life—only to awaken back in university, at the very moment we was supposed to get engaged. This time, I made a choice. I would not chase after him again. I would step aside and let him be with the one he loved most—my stepsister, Jennifer.

"It hurts…" Joanna Horton clutched her swollen belly in agony, a deep, wrenching pain twisting through her that words couldn't describe. Terror filled her voice as she cried out, "It hurts so bad… Theo… please, save our baby…" But outside, there was only silence—except for the soft, steady sounds of prayers and chanting from the next room. That was where her monk husband, Theo Brook, was, praying for the soul of his long-dead first love. Ever since Sharon Cooper jumped off that building, Theo had been grief-stricken. He left everything behind and became a monk, never missing a single night of chanting for her. People said he had the heart of a saint, that he was devoted and had never stopped loving her. But they didn't know that just on the other side of that wall was Joanna—his lawfully wedded wife, the one he had once married in a grand ceremony. Joanna was burning up with fever, her eyes barely open, her face pale and tired. A few days ago, she had made Theo angry. Since then, no matter how much she cried out in pain, he ignored her. Another sharp wave of pain hit, and suddenly, a rush of blood spilled from between her legs. The baby inside her stopped moving. She knew then—her child was gone.

For five years, I quietly supported my boyfriend, helping him rise from a lawyer's assistant to a partner at a top-tier law firm. At the annual awards ceremony, I was thrilled, ready to celebrate publicly and surprise him. But then, he walked on stage with a female coworker, their behavior cozy and intimate. "Cade owes his success to my brilliant strategies behind the scenes," Caitlyn boasted. Cade smiled, echoing her words, "Absolutely, without Caitlyn, I wouldn't be where I am today." The audience erupted in applause, congratulating them. I stood at the back of the crowd, frozen. Leaving the venue, I called my assistant. "Cut off all networking support for Cade Gilliam. End all cooperation. That shady case he took on? Stop smoothing things over. Let him face the consequences."

For the seven years after our marriage, I spend whole nights in the prayer room before he will even touch me. Eric Compton says it is to atone for what I owe Monica Lynch. When his mother, Barbara Lane, pushes me to fulfill my wifely duties again, I overhear Eric's friends laughing. "Let me think. How many rounds of IVF has Avery done this year? She's trying very hard to get pregnant." "She probably doesn't know there's no way she's ever getting pregnant with Eric's kid." Eric scoffs. "Every time we're done, I give her a glass of milk. After all these years of birth control, it'd be a miracle if she got pregnant." He adds, "Everything she's suffered through is just payback for driving Monica away." I smile bitterly and send the recording to Richard Compton. "I'm not the lucky one meant to carry on the Compton name. Can I go now?"