I Copy Talent 96

For six years of marriage, Cyran Valehart and I lived with measured respect, as if we were partners holding the same scale in perfect balance. For the sake of my equestrian career, I refused to have children. He shouldered the gossip, endured the judgment, and stood beside me without hesitation. But when I rode into what should have been my final international competition, he went back home with his first love—her hand resting protectively over her swollen belly. "All these years, you chose the horses over me," he spat. "That damned competition meant more to you than our family ever did." His voice shook with righteous anger, but his next words cut far deeper. "Six years ago, I abandoned Celia once. Now she carries my child. I won't betray her again." In that instant, my marriage became nothing but a title. I was reduced to a wife in name only, a figurehead in his home, a shadow he no longer cared to see. During the very competition meant to crown my life's work, Cyran laced a sharp needle beneath my saddle, each stride of my horse a fresh stab of pain meant to break us both. I lost the match. My horse collapsed with a shattered leg. And in that fall, my dream and my marriage were crushed together—ruined by the very man who once swore to protect them. Later, he paid with everything he had, desperate to make amends. But no matter what he sacrificed, Cyran Valehart was already behind me, nothing more than a ghost I would never turn to face again.

On the day of my coming-of-age ceremony, all three of my fiancés showed up with the worst reports from their family-run businesses. My father had declared that I would marry the one who could bring the greatest benefit to our family. However, all three of them had already fallen for a penniless scholarship girl named Amelia Jones, and none of them wanted me. In my previous life, I kept them close, mentored them, and poured my resources into helping them rise. By the time they had each become powerful men in my family, they repaid me by framing my father, getting him arrested, and making him age more than 10 years overnight. He was dragged to prison. Me? They hired a crew of street thugs to brutalize me, leaving me to die while my private photos spread across the internet. As life slipped away, I heard their sneering voices: "Did you really think we ever liked you? Everything we did was for Amelia." "If you hadn't chained us to your side, we'd have married her long ago, we'd have a house full of kids by now!" "You and your father ruined her future. She couldn't afford college because of you. She had no choice but to jump!" Then I opened my eyes: reborn on the very day of my coming-of-age ceremony. I pulled my father aside, looked him in the eye, and said, "I'm an adult now. Throw them out. Strip them of every business and every asset we gave them." "I'm not choosing any of them. I chose Bruce Sullivan, the Don of the Sullivan family."

My fiance, Derrick Lodge, chooses to save me during the typhoon, instead of his first love, Victoria Rayne. My life is saved, but Victoria dies after being struck by flying debris before the rescue team can find her. They aren't even able to find the rest of her body afterward. After going home, Derrick doesn't attend Victoria's funeral and immediately holds a grand wedding for me instead. For the next three years of our marriage, Derrick doesn't stop torturing me because he says that I caused Victoria's death. When I reach my limit and finally ask him for a divorce, Derrick kills me with a gun before killing himself. I open my eyes again and realize that I have traveled back in time. It is the day the typhoon happened, threatening our lives. This time, however, I tell Derrick to save Victoria's life instead.

On the day of my wedding gown fitting, a stranger burst into the VIP suite and stabbed me with a knife. “You think you deserve a dress this expensive after stealing someone else’s man?” She tore at the delicate fabric of my skirt. Then, with a twisted smile, she hurled a bottle of acid at me. The blade was buried in my lower abdomen. The pain drove me to my knees. She grabbed my hair and yanked my head up. “Gerald’s my husband! What are you? You’re nothing but a mistress who can’t even be seen with him in public!” Blood dripped down my fingers. That was when it finally sank in. The man I had been with for seven years had been keeping another woman by his side. “What’re you staring at? Even if I kill you, with my husband’s influence, no one will dare touch me!” Staring at her smug face, I pulled out my phone with hands slicked in blood and called my brother. “Matt…” My voice was unnervingly calm. “Come pick me up at the bridal shop. And please inform the Hoover family that the engagement is off.”

For ten years, my family had called me a jinx. When I was three years old, my dad claimed that he lost a major project because he had to take care of me due to my illness. My mom wanted to buy me sweets, only to end up getting hit by a car in front of a candy store. That was how she hurt her arm. My older sister, Siena Bell, often claimed that she screwed up in her tests simply because I kept breaking her pens. One day, my mom invited a shaman named Mr. Reyes over. After inspecting the house, he contemplated for a while. "This child is affiliated with misfortune by nature. She's a walking jinx who absorbs the entire family's luck." He then added, "But if she has a life of misfortune, you will regain your luck." At first, I felt aggrieved and tried to fight back by throwing tantrums. I tugged at my mom's sleeve while arguing loudly, "I'm not a jinx!" But my mom just looked at me calmly. There was a hint of eerie calmness in her eyes. She said, "Mr. Reyes said that you have to accept your fate. Someone has to bear the sacrifices no matter what." Her icy words doused out the hope in my heart. In a way, this twisted dynamic actually worked. My dad's business went steady, whereas Siena started getting better grades. At one point, I even started thinking that I was a real jinx. But… why was it that my family was haunted by more misfortune after my death?

Trigger/ Content warning This book contains high sexual content for adults (18+) only. Proceed if you need your toes curled up in pleasure. **** “You know, I wanted you to watch me fuck my hoes… but there’s been a change of plan, Jax. I’ll watch.” “Watch what?” “You.” **** Jaxen DeLuca has just come face-to-face with the devil incarnate—a man deadlier than poison, feared like a curse and obeyed like a god. Everyone bends. Everyone worships the ground he walks on. Everyone… except Jax. But this is what she learns… Monsters like Charles don’t fall in love. They claim, They ruin, and they destroy anything that dares not kneel.

For three years, I played the humble housewife to protect Gabriel’s ego, secretly using my power as the Pearl Group’s heiress to build his empire from the shadows. But at his victory gala, the man I made a King crowns another Queen—the woman who abandoned him when he was broke. "While others were just present," Gabriel sneers, his arm around his ex, "Anna was the fire behind my success." He thinks my silence was weakness. He thinks his contract was earned by merit. He’s about to find out that the humble woman he sidelined owns the very stage he’s standing on. I’m done being your sun, Gabriel. Enjoy the darkness—because by morning, I’m taking the light with me.

In Reychelle City, a contest was held to crown the most beautiful woman. After my cousin scarred my face, she seized first place with ease. What she never expected was that this year's contest wasn't for fame; it was to select the future wife of the Third Prince, a ruthless, bloodthirsty eunuch. That very afternoon, gifts poured in by the cartload. My betrothed panicked. That night, he tore up our engagement contract and carried my cousin into the bridal chamber. The next day, she trailed her lacquered fingertips across my cheek and sneered, "Alicia, with your ruined face, who would ever want you? Perhaps the beggar at the street corner might take you in." I caught her wrist, let out a cold laugh, and said, "Who told you I would marry a beggar?" Before her stunned eyes, I pushed open my parents' chamber doors. "Mom, since Maggie doesn't wish to be the prince's consort… let me take her place." Three years later, before the eyes of a shocked court, the Third Prince entered the grand hall with me at his side, with two children in tow. No one had foreseen it. This body of mine, blessed with the rarest gift of fertility, was the perfect match for a man believed incapable of siring heirs.

When Eric Sutton—my charming CEO husband—found out I handed a million-dollar project to his assistant Vivien Cheney, he figured his three months of radio silence had finally broken me. Suddenly, he's all, "Let's go to Iceland for our honeymoon!" Vivien heard and threw a fit. Threatened to quit. Classic. Eric, who treated her like royalty, freaked out. After three days of begging, he bailed on the trip—said it was for "work"—then handed her my ticket. Later, he shrugged it off. "Romance's petty. Work comes first. You're my wife. You get it, right?" Right. I just stared at Vivien's new post: a couples selfie—cheek to cheek, hands shaped like a heart. I didn't say a word. Just nodded. Eric thought I was finally playing the role: calm, supportive, mature. Promised an even better honeymoon when he got back. Too bad I'd already quit. Too bad he'd already signed the divorce papers. We were done.

Separated by fate, haunted by the past– that's how they live. Until they met again; they built hatred, showed agony, betrayed friends, wanted to be loved, and learned how to sacrifice one's happiness. Remember those nights that I've been disturbing you, it's because I can't say what I need to say. Remember the time that I didn't disturb you; I'd been holding on so much, hoping that you'd be the one to call me first– and you did. Every time I hurt your feelings, I'm hurting too. I– I just don't know how to tell you the exact words, so I keep on annoying you. I'm sorry for all the troubles that I have caused– "I know," I said, and I hugged him. I can sense the same pain as what he is in my dream. Confessing is not bad. I'm just overwhelmed because I feel the same way. "I like you too, Alex. I don't know how, I don't know why but that's how I felt. I hate you harassing and annoying me but I missed it when you don't!" I smiled. Their fate is twisted.