I Will Change The Genre

I gave birth prematurely, just twenty days before the due date. Two hours after I entered the surgery room, I had a stillborn baby. I did not cry at all. I did not even spare a glance at the dead baby. I endured the pain from childbirth and calmly walked into the hospital nursery. After the door was tightly shut, I turned down the temperature of the air-conditioning. The temperature inside the nursery would be too cold for newborns to bear after an hour. The doctors and parents were begging me on their knees to let their babies live. They screamed and cried. They said I was a mother and hoped that I would understand. Instead, I laughed and said, “Yes, I was a mother. But my baby died!” The gynecologist knelt on the floor and begged, “We may be at fault for not being able to save your baby, but these babies are innocent! “Please don’t be reckless just because you lost your baby! You’re so young. You’ll have more babies in the future.” I gritted my teeth and roared, “But my baby isn’t dead! “She’s still alive. I’ll give you one hour. Bring her back to me!” But I was unsure if she would still be alive after an hour.

They said I was beautiful — but not real. That my smile was perfect — but my past made me broken. I spent years trying to prove I was more than the girl who changed her face to survive the world’s cruelty. I married Julian Vale, believing love would finally see me. I called Serena Blake my sister, trusting her more than my own reflection. And when my world collapsed under secrets, silence, and the weight of never being enough — I disappeared. Then I opened my eyes… Ten years earlier. Before the surgery. Before the vows. Before I forgot who I was beneath the makeup and the mask of confidence. This time, I don’t need to be fixed. This time, I don’t need to be forgiven. I remember every lie. Every betrayal. Every time I silenced my voice to keep the peace. So I’m not here to win back love. I’m not here to punish the past. I’m here to become the woman I was always meant to be — unedited, unafraid, and finally, completely seen. I was more than pretty. This time, I’ll live like I believe it.

The 99th time Owen Anderson slides a ring onto my finger, his adopted sister, Monica Morgan, calls again. And just like that, for the 99th time, he ditches me at the altar to be with her, who's having another depressive episode. I'm fed up. I yell after him as he walks away, "Go ahead! Walk out on me, and I swear I'll marry someone else!" He doesn't even flinch. Instead, he snaps, "Can you stop being so unreasonable? We can get married anytime, but Monica's the only sister I've got." Then, he turns and walks away, leaving me standing there like a complete fool. What he doesn't realize is that this time, I mean it. Later, when he gets down on one knee for the 100th time, his older brother, Chris, slips an arm around my waist and says, "Sorry, Owen. She's your sister-in-law now."

“Give me your hands,” he ordered, coldly. I froze, watching him loosen his tie as he walked closer. Something about him felt… off. Mean. Distant. My throat went dry, but I gave him my hands anyway. He gripped my wrists—tight enough for my pulse to throb under his fingers. He wrapped the tie around them and pulled, dragging me up the bed like an animal on a leash. My back hit the headboard. Before I could react, he tied the other end of the tie to the frame. Then he reached for the veil on the nightstand. “What are you doing?” I asked, heart racing. He didn’t answer….just placed the veil over my head like I was a doll. “Making sure I don’t see your face and wish it was hers,” he said, unbuttoning his shirt. I blinked. “Hers?” He leaned in. His jaw clenched. “Your twin sister,” he said. “I wanted her. Not you.” His words felt like someone yanked the floor right under me. “I should be with her,” he added cruelly. “Loving her. Worshiping her. Not stuck with a knockoff pretending to be my wife.” I couldn’t breathe. My hands fought the tie, but it was useless. I was trapped, veiled and bound. Lucian didn’t want me. He wanted ‘her’ instead. —------------- Losing her clinic was devastating. Facing eviction was worse. But accepting a mysterious nursing job? That was desperation at its finest. What Scarlett Ashford didn’t expect was that her patient would be her terminally ill twin, the same sister she’d cut ties with. And Lucian Montgomery, her sister’s cold billionaire husband, offered her a proposition far beyond medical care. He wanted her to be his surrogate. Scarlett wonders—what twisted melodrama has she gotten herself into?

My mother-in-law, Eleanor, was having a heart attack, and my husband, Ben Dover—a heart surgeon—was the only one who could save her. Did I call him? Nope. I just stood there, watching her gasp like a fish out of water. In my last life, I'd begged Ben to come save her. He brushed me off, accusing me of interrupting his time with his mistress, Ima Schit. No matter how much I pleaded, he wouldn't come. Eleanor had died in the hospital. And when Johnny, my father-in-law, demanded answers, Ben flipped the script, saying I'd never even called. He made Eleanor's death my fault. Johnny, blinded by grief and fury, killed me. But plot twist—I woke up. Right back to the day this circus started.

I stared at the Vercetti marriage contract my father pushed across the table. Without hesitation, I wrote my half-sister’s name, Demi, and slid it back. My father froze. Then his eyes lit up with ridiculous excitement, like he’d just won the lottery. "How can you give such a perfect chance to your sister?" Last life, my marriage was a joke for everyone around me. I was the red-haired, untamed little witch who dared to climb into the orbit of Cassian Vercetti, heir and leader of the old-blood Vercetti crime family. I was never perfect nor obedient. He loved goddess gowns. I wore mini skirts and danced on tables. He demanded missionary, traditional, orderly intimacy. I wanted to climb on top, ride him, lose myself completely. At a gala, society wives laughing at my hair, my dress, my “wildness.” I thought he would at least pretend to defend me. He didn’t. “Forgive her. She’s not…properly trained.” Trained. Like a dog. I spent my entire last life suffocating under his rules, bending myself bloody to fit the shape he wanted, until the night our house caught fire. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment I learned of the arranged marriage. I looked at the contract in front of me. This time? I think the nightclub boys suits me better. But the moment Cassian realized the bride wasn’t me, he shattered every rule he’d ever lived by.

To forge an alliance, I had to choose a mate from the sons of the Blackwood Alpha. Everyone thought I'd choose Larry, the powerful Alpha-to-be. But on the day of the ceremony, I chose Derek—the outcast in the wheelchair, the one they called the Broken Wolf. I did it because in my past life, I chose Larry, and he betrayed me. He mated with another she-wolf right in front of me, forcing the entire pack to watch. He even marked Chloe, my so-called best friend. When I discovered their betrayal, he murdered me—and our unborn pup—with a silver dagger. I died in despair, my heart shattered. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I had to choose my mate. This time, they could have each other. I would rewrite my fate. But I never expected he'd been reborn, too.

"Genie" His voice was barely a whisper, his breath warm against the shell of my ear. "This is so wrong, we can't be doing this." His lips find their way back to mine, trailing the bottom lip with his tongue. "So so wrong" He pulled my lower lips in, biting on them. I stifled a moan. "I know," I managed to say. I could feel the warm slickness ache between my legs. "We shouldn't be doing this. You're my step brother." My body doesn't agree with what my mouth is saying. I snuggled closer into his chest wanting to feel the heat of his bare body against mine. I want his mouth against mine, ravaging me like he had done before. We have gone too far to back out now. "Take me, Ryder" Those were the words he needed. Only those three words. Suddenly, he grips the back of my thighs and lifts me up, forcing my legs to wrap around him. Planting me against the wall, he peers up and look straight into my eyes "You're mine" Then his lips came down on mine. I'm yours. I whispered back in the back of my head. ******** Ryder Saint, for years, has bullied me. Reasons? None. It was like he signed a contract from heaven to make my life hell. From the moment he set his eyes on me, he added my name to his list. Don't be fooled by his last name. It's a charade, he's not anything like it. Everything about Ryder Saint smells evil. His heart, dark. His soul, dark. His aura, dark. Except his face. I should have neglected him like I always have, but I couldn't when our parents decided to tie the knots and he became my stepbrother. He and I, under the same roof.

"He was everything I swore never to get close to. He was toxic, possessive, selfish. Without me even realising it. He was older than me. It was wrong. He was wrapped in darkness and mystery. He was sinisterly hot and rich to an extent I couldn't imagine. He made sure to become everything I have. He was anything but the one for me, yet he made me his. He made me fall for him. He got under my skin, penetrated my soul, shattered my heart. And I naively obeyed his will. He made me his but he never was mine. He was the devil himself and I'll burn in hell for ever loving him."

When my mother asked me who I wanted to marry, this time, I chose none of them. Instead, I decided to go to the Northwest and serve my country. In my previous life, both my childhood friend, once a captain, and my educated fiancé courted me. I had feelings for both. But while I was still struggling to decide who I wanted as my husband, both accidentally ingested something. In a dazed state, I spent a chaotic night. After that, my parents asked one of the men to marry me. On the wedding day, the first love in both their hearts, the woman they had always truly loved, found out the truth. Out of spite, she accepted a local thug’s proposal. After marrying him, she was forced to give birth to ten children, one after another, until she died tragically. After her death, both men grabbed me by the throat and asked, “Why did she have to die such a miserable death, while you’re still alive and well?” They strangled me to death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day when my childhood friend and my fiancé had been drugged.