Hottie Next Door

One of my classmates, Liam, called me one day. His mom was planning to get a divorce, and he wanted me to talk to her.   The first time I saw Liam’s mom, I was captivated by her unique charm as a mature woman. From then on, I couldn’t stop thinking about her.   One day, I decided to invite Liam for a hike. He wasn’t home, but there were faint moans coming from inside the room. I pushed the door open to find Claire lying on a red blanket. Her legs were entwined, and she moved in a way that was impossible to ignore.   Who knew Liam’s mom would be so good at it? Quietly, I moved further into the room. Without a word, she walked over and shut the bedroom door behind me. 

Late one night after getting off work, I was scrolling through my company group chat when a colleague shared a piece of news. The headline was horrifying. "Night-Shift Courier Murdered During Delivery, Police Suspect Robbery." I zoomed in on the crime scene photo that had been partially pixelated, and a chill ran straight down my spine. Lying in a pool of blood, the courier who had been hacked to death was unmistakably me. I had scrolled into news of my own death. Almost at the same time, my delivery app began vibrating violently. "Urgent pickup! Destination: Unit 704 Hawthorne Ridge Apartments, Building 7. Time limit: 15 minutes. Penalty for timeout: Death." As I stared at the notification that read "Pickup failed three times", the searing pain of my brutal death surged through my body. So that was it. I had already died three times. When I forced open the half-closed security door of 704 for the fourth time, a thin delivery envelope lay quietly inside. I tore it open. A photograph slipped out. It was a picture of my dismembered body. The timestamp showed tomorrow at 7:00 a.m. On the back was a single line written in fresh blood: "Next time, remember to pick it up on time." At that moment, the red indicator light on the hallway surveillance camera suddenly went dark. I looked up. From the ventilation opening in the exact same spot, a single eye was staring straight at me. The mole at the corner of that eye was identical to mine.

My husband, Alex Carter, is a top AI engineer. He one day gets drugged by a new intern at his company, and one night of chaos follows. He calls me the next morning, his voice hoarse from a hangover and filled with unfamiliar panic. "Em, I messed up. But don't worry. I gave her enough money to disappear from this city." After ten years together, I believe it is just a momentary lapse in judgment. Six months later, Alex's company suffers the worst cyber attack in its history, with core data hanging by a thread. I rush back from a fragrance exhibition in Astral, only to witness a scene at the data center entrance that sends me into shock. Alex stands outside the tightly sealed door, his face showing a weariness and guilt I have never seen before. The doctor says that the intern, Brooke Anderson, is three months pregnant and has spent 72 hours with him in the high-radiation server room. Now, she shows signs of miscarriage. Later, Brooke gives birth to twins, a boy and a girl. The entire Carter family is ecstatic. I remove the wedding ring that has accompanied me for ten years, my fingertips turning ice cold. I dial the number saved with only one letter "S" and say, "Mr. Sullivan, I accept the collaboration you proposed last time." A low, soft laugh comes from the other end of the line. "Ms. Emma Shaw, that's a wise decision."

Brielle Davenport tells me to test out rat poison on her childhood sweetheart, Trevor Whitlock's live stream, just so the popularity can be boosted. "All you lose is a life, you know. Meanwhile, Trev has always dreamed of becoming a popular streamer." Then, Brielle hands the rat poison to me. I don't turn her down. Instead, I lift the rat poison to my lips and drink it right in front of the camera. Naturally, my actions boost Trevor to the top spot of the platform, making him the most popular male streamer. The delighted Brielle is quick to throw him an afterparty to celebrate his success. The next day, when Brielle opens the door to the studio, she notices my stiff figure on the floor, my lips still bluish-purple from the poison. She has always been cold and aloof, and yet, she crumbles from anxiety on the spot. I used to come back to life within two hours after my death. Yet, this time, I show no signs of life. Brielle keeps calling out my name. Later on, she can only listen in disbelief as the doctor pronounces my death. Meanwhile, I've already stirred awake in my original world and started my life anew. The truth is, I've transmigrated into this book eight times in a row. In the first seven times, Brielle had saved me seven times, but she also hurt me that many times. In the eighth attempt, I return seven lives to her. Finally, I'm able to leave this world once and for all.

On the day of the World Rally Championship finals, I pressed the accelerator to the floor, ready for the final dash. The next moment, the engine exploded in a deafening roar, and thick smoke instantly filled the cockpit. Flames spread toward the fuel tank. I yanked at the door, desperate to jump out, but the handle wouldn’t budge, and the brakes felt welded in place. In that instant of despair, my husband’s voice came through the comms. “Attention, all teams, no need to rescue her. My wife is the Iron Racer! “For today’s live broadcast challenge, let’s see if she can drive this burning car across the finish line!” His co-commentator, recently recruited onto the team, chimed in with excitement. “Thomas, the sponsor just confirmed! As long as Jane holds on to the end, they’ll increase investment. I can get a permanent spot!” I understood instantly then that the husband on the commentary platform I had supported for years was using my life to pave the way for his mistress. Smoke clawed at my throat. However, I forced down the dizziness and begged, “For the sake of all our years together…” Only for him to cut me off with irritation. “Save your energy for driving. You’re skilled. Just hold on a little longer. Mandy’s promotion depends entirely on you.” The cockpit had become an inferno; my skin searing with every second. I gripped the blistering wheel, steering through the smoke for the last time. This time, my finish line was the commentary platform where the two of them were huddled together.

Before the marking ceremony, Leon Parker crossed out his name on the Moonlight Tree. Then, he carved his brother Cillian Parker's name next to mine instead. A friend teased him, "Just because you lost a bet to Susie Burton, you're changing the name on the Moonlight Tree to Cillian's? Aren't you afraid Madison Lachlan will find out and lose it on you?" Leon replied lazily, "She nearly died for me once. Changing a name is nothing; she won't mind. I've already ruined her marking ceremony 52 times. What's one more? Besides, Cillian's leg is injured, and he's stuck in a wheelchair. No woman would ever want to be with him. Once Madison finds out, she'll come crawling back to me, and I'll still have the upper hand." I stood by the door, listening to every word of their conversation as my heart gradually turned cold. The Moonlight Tree was sacred to all werewolves. Every mated pair carved their names into it, symbolizing the Moon Goddess's blessing on their bond. Yet, Leon was treating something so sacred like it was a joke. I did not make a scene, just slipping away silently. On the day of the marking ceremony, Leon arrived at the venue to find no one there. He frantically called me. I stood in my white wedding dress, looking at my mate across from me. "My marking ceremony is about to start. Are you here to congratulate me on my big day?"

I, Zoey Carter, it was as if I was born to be punished. An accident, I lost my parents, and that was the day I was accused of murder. All those years of bullying and torture. Without my family, I thought my godmother's presence was a pathetic handout from the moon goddess. But now, I'm going to lose her again! I can't lose her, I don't want to actually become alone, a person who will never be loved! So I have no choice, I need money and I have nothing but a sound, needed womb. Yes, I'm going to be a surrogate! As a rumored murderer, of course I wouldn't be accepted. But this time, I had complete confidence that I was the best person for the job... *** "NEXT!" "Don't go inside!"My wolf, Tilly cries. "He will kill us!" I know it. But No! I must go! Even if it means death! I ignored a ranting Tilly and straightened my back,, look up noble and ready to fight with this jerk and his friends. The door opens in front of me and I step inside but as soon as my eyes meet their eyes. I can see the shock on Tristan's face to see me here, as if he just saw a horror movie that scared the shit out of him. But before I could react his Beta is grabbing me by my arms and pushing me into the wall, while gamma Nicholas blocks in his tracks. "What the F*CK are you doing here?! You murderer!" and grabbing my throat he lifts me in the air, holding me there.

What can a woman do when her husband lost his memory and was now in love with another woman? Three years ago, I lay in a coma for a year after a car accident. When I woke up, not only didn’t my husband remember me, but he loves another woman, Ashlyn.  But I didn’t give up on us. Two months ago we got drunk, and we slept together for the first time in two years. But the next morning, Jayden was angrier than ever. He was convinced that he was drugged which was just another scheme of mine to win him back… I can’t forget the image of him staring at me with no emotions in his eyes and hands me the Divorce Agreement. Then I find out I was pregnant. The tiny life growing inside me made me stronger. Now it’s been three years and slowly each day got better. I started a little firm as a marketing and financial advisor, putting my education to use. My business partner, Phillip, has been helping me grow the company and we have grown very close. Phillip was so overwhelmed with emotion today since we are signing our biggest deal; his lips are on mine before I can stop him. When I turn around, the man standing at our glass door, glaring in at me and Phillip, is my ex-husband Jayden Brennan himself. Is there jealousy in his eyes? What does he want now?

It is the night before our wedding when my fiancee, Whitney Sullivan, reunites with her childhood sweetheart, Steven Foster, a mercenary who has been missing for five years. He is brought to our doorstep by his teammates, bloodied and barely clinging to life after being poisoned with a deadly aphrodisiac on a mission. Whitney, usually so aloof and controlled, immediately breaks down. She locks the door, defying my efforts to stop her, and stays with Steven all night long. I choose to stay outside the door, never closing my eyes. I confront her the following morning with a torrent of accusations, only for her to stand in front of Steven protectively and say shamelessly, "I couldn't just stand by and watch Steven die. Isn't it just my virginity? What's the harm in letting loose the night before the wedding?" In that instant, all my affection for her is utterly destroyed.

In the final year of my bond with vampire lord Saul, the curse of our pact struck, and I was overwhelmed by agony, but my lord was nowhere to be found. He had gone out. He left me to suffer. Alone. When the door finally creaked open the next morning, I looked up through bloodshot eyes—hope flickering like a dying candle. But he wasn't alone. He carried an unconscious woman in his arms, her head resting against his chest like she belonged there. Ignoring me as I curled up on the floor in pain, he first carried the woman to his room and called the old butler anxiously. "Jacinda's passed out. Hurry! Check if she's all right!" The old butler cautiously pleaded on my behalf, hoping our lord could save me first, but Saul frowned and interrupted: "Jacinda is in danger, and I have no mind to drink her blood now. She just needs to pull through herself. Believe me, she won't die. Right now, the priority is to save Jacinda." A frown and a glance in my direction was his only response to the old butler's desperate plea. With my only hope shattered, I clenched my teeth and slashed several long wounds on my arms and hands to drain blood for self-rescue. After a long period of weak convulsions, the curse of the pact finally ended. I lay in a pool of blood, sending a message with my last faint consciousness. "I promise I will leave him."