Novel & Cerita Karma Quote Images

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!”

No one knew that I was the Thorn pack’s head Alpha’s soulmate. He and Carol, who had been best friends since they were kids, were very close. Everyone in the pack thought they were soulmates while I was just a mistress threatening their bond. To protect Carol’s reputation, Barnett lied to the pack, claiming Carol was carrying his pup. This made our child illegitimate. When I confronted him in pain, demanding why, he explained, “Carol is known for her gentle and quiet nature. If our packmates knew she was pregnant without a mate, they would shame her. She's too fragile to go through all this.” For the first time, I looked at the man I thought was my mate and questioned if the Moon Goddess had made a mistake. Later on, while Barnett was away gathering herbs for Carol, the elders forced me to terminate my pregnancy, branding our pup as a disgrace to the Thorn pack. By the time Barnett returned, our pup was gone, and so was I.

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.

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."

On my birthday, Connor Simpson's first love jumped off a building due to depression. She died on the spot. Connor blamed everything on me. I never celebrated my birthday again after she died. After the murderer electrocuted me for more than ten hours, they forced me to call Connor. "Connor, it's my 25th birthday today. Can you come over and spend time with me?" However, Connor did not notice anything unusual. His voice was laced with venomous iciness. "Clarisse Winter, Audrey wouldn't have died if it weren't for you. How dare you ask me to celebrate your birthday? If only you were the one who died." I heard him coaxing a woman on the other end just before he hung up on me. That low and gentle tone was what I loved to hear the most in the past. That night, the murderer cut my body into countless pieces, packed them in bags, and threw them in front of the police station. Connor was summoned back overnight. He spent two days and two nights piecing together the body parts, but he did not realize that the dead person was the wife that he hated the most.

My best friend, Sienna Monroe, who always swears she'll never marry, goes with me to the fertility clinic and suddenly snatches away the donor profile I choose. That's when I know she has come back to life too. In my previous life, I wanted a mixed-race baby, so I chose the IVF route. Sienna mocked me, saying I'd just be raising someone else's child. But two weeks later, I was taken to the royal palace of Valoria. It turned out the donor I picked was none other than the Prince of Valoria, a man of eight national lineages. He not only insisted on marrying me as his princess but also promised that our child would inherit the throne. The baby and I were cherished by the entire royal family, so much so that the jewels they draped over me nearly bent my back. Meanwhile, Sienna flaunted her extreme feminist stance and offended business partners. In the end, she was fired and blacklisted across the industry. Sienna spent all her savings on a plane ticket to attend my party, where I would introduce my baby to everyone. But when I went to welcome her, she crushed my son to death in her hands and splashed concentrated acid on me. "You don't deserve such good fortune! You worthless witch!" But when I opened my eyes again, I had gone back to the day I asked her to go with me to the fertility clinic.

It was almost New Year. I had just withdrawn money from the bank when I noticed that the amount on my passbook didn't match the cash in my hand. I counted carefully—my passbook showed a different figure than the five thousand dollars I was holding. Frustrated, I turned and went back to the counter to find the teller who had handled my transaction. Clutching the receipt, I tried to be polite. "Excuse me, I think there might be a mistake with this transaction." Instantly, she snapped, pointing her finger at my nose. "Don't you know that once you leave the counter, we are not responsible for any discrepancies?" I waved my hands, trying to explain. "No, wait, look again. I clearly withdrew five thousand dollars, but on my passbook, it shows…" She cut me off impatiently. "When you filled out the form, it was all right there. Once you leave the counter, it's not our problem. You signed the form yourself, confirming everything. Are we supposed to correct it every time someone claims a mistake after leaving the bank?" I froze. No wonder she kept repeating that the bank isn't responsible after leaving the counter. She thought I had come back to ask for more money. What I was really trying to explain was simple: I withdrew five thousand, yet my passbook showed that I deposited five thousand.