Karma Goddess Novels & Stories

In my previous cycle, when I graduated from university, my cousin Laura gave me a gramophone. But after I received the gramophone, accidents kept befalling my family. In the end, even my boyfriend betrayed me to be with her. It was only then that I learned that all of this was my cousin’s scheme. After I got to the current cycle, I pretended to accept my cousin’s present but never used the gramophone. It led to the curse delivering such a vicious backlash to my cousin and her entire family that they died.

At our wedding ceremony, the four-year-old nephew of my fiance, Michael Thompson, suddenly rushes onto the stage. He grabs his uncle's hand and cries, "Daddy, why are you marrying another woman? Don't you want me and Mommy anymore?" Seeing this, Lisa Jenner quickly runs over to intervene. She sounds apologetic, but her words are slightly provocative. "I'm so sorry, Sarah. Danny lost his father when he was little and has always seen Michael as his dad. He didn't mean to cause trouble." Even Michael remains completely calm as he picks up Danny. He explains to me, "Before David passed away, he made me promise to take care of his widow and child. I only let Danny call me 'Daddy' so he could have a normal childhood. You understand, right?" As I look at the three of them, standing there like the perfect family, I laugh coldly and rip off my veil. "This poor child has been through so much. How could I possibly steal his dad away? "You know what? Why don't I just let Lisa take my place up here? Then you can have your happy little family of three."

My husband sponsored a poor female college student. While I was being dragged into an alley by a criminal, he was helping her pick out lingerie. While I was hospitalized with serious injuries, he used the money my mother left me to buy her a limited-edition handbag. I confronted him in a heated argument, but he accused me of being unreasonable. "I thought your injuries were so serious, but look—you didn’t even die! Besides, your money is my money. I’ll spend it however I want!"

The hotel called, politely reminding me that the condoms used last night were unpaid and had been charged to my membership card. I was stunned. I'd been working late until midnight and hadn't set foot in any hotel. I confronted my husband, the only person who knew my card code. Nathan Phelps looked at me, bewildered. "Honey, that hotel costs over $10,000 a night. I'd never go there. It's probably a system error. Someone must have mistyped the card number. I'll file a complaint tomorrow." Unconvinced, I called my best friend, who managed the hotel. "Tracy, check who Nathan was with at the hotel last night. I'm catching him red-handed."

Billionaire Ethan Gibson, determined to break the family's curse of ending without an heir, spent a fortune recruiting ten "candidate mothers" and placed them together on his private island. On the day they arrived, Ethan announced publicly: Whoever delivers his first heir will become the future mistress of the Gibson family. Greed grew faster than desire. Within just a few months, several women announced their pregnancies with great pride. However, they and their unborn children were thrown into the ocean and fed to sharks. The reason was simple: they had been found to be involved with other men. Every night, the screams coming from the harbor kept me awake. I was terrified, because I had also had a single accidental encounter with Ethan, and I was now pregnant. When the day finally came and I saw what I had delivered, everything went dark before my eyes. Those mistresses who were fed to the sharks had at least carried human babies. I had given birth to three tiny puppies.

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.

I'm playing hide-and-seek with my son when he locks me on the balcony. It's freezing outside, and my face turns blue from the cold. However, all he does is laugh at me while I call for help. He makes ugly faces at me through the glass. "You look like the stray dog downstairs, Mom! You're so ugly!" I die a frosty and terrible death. Before breathing my last breath, I see my son excitedly give my husband a video call. "Mom has frozen to death, Dad. Can you take Ms. Cole home to be my new mom now?" When I open my eyes again, I'm taken back to the moment my son wants me to play hide-and-seek with him.

Five years ago, when my boyfriend's small company was on the brink of bankruptcy I stepped in to save him, quietly supporting him from the shadows. Without revealing my identity, I became the company’s largest shareholder. Five years later, the night before his company was set to go public, he held me in his arms and said, "Emma, after the company goes public tomorrow, don’t leave. I have a surprise for you." At that moment, I was swept away by the idea of his "surprise," my mind racing with the hopeful thought that he might propose. I didn’t notice the cold glint of malice lurking in his eyes. The next day, as his company went public, he slapped me across the face and sneered, "Do you even see what kind of person you are? Did you really think someone like you could marry me?" He grabbed me by the hair and dragged both me and my best friend in front of a crowd of thugs and beggars he’d gathered. “These worthless cast-offs aren’t good enough for me anymore. Consider them my gift to you. Do whatever you like with them!”

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."

My daughter hid inside the cabinet, her trembling hands dialing her father—James, the Alpha of our pack. "Mommy's bleeding a lot. Please, come back and save her," she pleaded. "I'm busy. Don't bother me," James said coldly. "If she's going to die, make sure she does it far away." As he wished, I never bothered him again. Because I really did die, right in front of our wedding photo. When he found out, he went mad, completely mad.