Karma Quotes Sayings

Ever since James Barrington the third was a small child, he hated being told what to do. Yes, he was a rebel, a wild child. His mother died when he was in his teens, barely fourteen and his father… Well, suffice to say, he tried his best to tame James, make him into his image. He failed. Miserably. The more he pushed, the more James pulled. Then there was his grandfather. James’ father was his clone. To top it all off, he was the only child. The heir to the Barrington billions. Now his grandfather and father were setting an ultimatum. Give up his philandering and wild ways, get married and take over Barrington Enterprises. Or face being disinherited. Even arranged for him to meet Marcy Davenport, eldest daughter of Richard Davenport, one of the richest and most influential families in West wood. He loved his freedom he was twenty-six for heaven's sake. So, James being the rebel he was, promised himself to marry the first woman he runs into who didn’t know him from a bar of soap, just to shut the old men up. Destiny Johnson is a girl from the other side of the track. Growing up in a poor neighborhood, Des-tiny was used to having very little. Now she lives in a trailer park and works at a convenience store. James sets out to turn her into the perfect girl to impress his grandfather and father, the James’s as he calls them. But as he tries to change Destiny to fit his mold, she is slowly changing his universe around. She slowly reels James in, making him into the man he was meant to be. Call it fate or call it Karma… An accidental meeting changed both their lives in an instant.

Attending a high school reunion, I rode my motorcycle to the venue. By the time I arrived at the Moon Valley Hotel, most of my former classmates were already there. Everyone seemed to be doing well for themselves. The parking lot was filled with luxury cars belonging to high-ranking pack members. There was even a Rolls Royce that belonged to the son of an Alpha. As I dismounted from my motorcycle, a former male classmate I barely remembered looked at me with disdain. "Well, well, if it isn't our former class president. Still riding a basic bike like an omega, I see." During dinner, everyone was fawning over the Alpha's son while completely ignoring me in the corner. Only Derek, our former class monitor and now a beta, sat beside me with a sympathetic look. "Don't worry about it. Even though you're still just an omega like your parents, I'm sure one day you'll rise up in the pack rankings." I couldn't help but smirk, whispering under my breath: "This isn't just any motorcycle. It's the Royal Guard's official vehicle."

Blaire Presley goes to the Carter residence, battered and bruised after being tormented by the three Carter brothers for three days. "Mr. and Mrs. Carter Senior, I've decided to marry Matthew Carter." Olivia Barrymore is surprised. "Are you sure you have the right guy, Blaire? Matt is those three brats' uncle!" Blaire isn't sure, but she has no other choice.

My sister aims her camera at my face as she livestreams. She forces me to get on my knees before her as everyone in her class watches. Then, she tells me to lick her shoe clean. My parents know about her behavior but don't care how it affects me. Their indulgence only makes my sister's behavior worse. This is precisely what I want, though. If one wants to ruin someone, the first step is to turn her into a psycho!

The morning after their night together, Harper Sullivan froze with a sudden, sickening realization—Ryan Delgado hadn't used protection. Fear coiled tight in her chest, sharp and suffocating. But Ryan just smirked, his voice smooth, teasing, as if this were some kind of game. "Our families are enemies. A baby changes that. Your father would have to accept me. Then I could marry you—properly." Heat rushed to her cheeks. She should have pushed him away, should have demanded answers—but his touch still burned through her resistance, and she gave in to him. Then, like a knife to the ribs, she heard his friend's voice from the next room, laced with cruel amusement. "Ryan, that's genius. Get her pregnant, then dump her. Harper would never recover from the scandal. And her family? Total disgrace." Ryan let out a cold, satisfied laugh. "Serves her right. She stole Olivia's spot as valedictorian, broke her heart, drove her overseas. I'll make sure she pays—this is for Olivia." Harper's body went rigid. Three years. Three years of stolen moments, swallowed secrets, letting him touch her in the dark while her family believed her loyal. And it had all been a lie. Rage and humiliation crashed over her, so violent she nearly choked on it. Her phone buzzed in her trembling hand. Fighting back tears, she answered. "Dad… I'll take the engagement."

After confirming I was pregnant, I suddenly heard my husband’s inner voice. “This idiot is still gloating over her pregnancy. She doesn’t even know we switched out her IVF embryo. She’s nothing more than a surrogate for Elle. If Elle weren’t worried about how childbirth might endanger her life, I would’ve kicked this worthless woman out already. Just looking at her makes me sick. “Once she delivers the baby, I’ll make sure she never gets up from the operating table. Then I’ll finally marry Elle, my one true love.” My entire body went rigid. I clenched the IVF test report in my hands and looked straight at my husband. He gazed back at me with gentle eyes. “I’ll take care of you and the baby for the next few months, honey.” However, right then, his inner voice struck again. “I’ll lock that woman in a cage like a dog. I’d like to see her escape!” Shock and heartbreak crashed over me all at once because the Elle he spoke of was none other than my sister.

On the eve of giving birth, my world turned into a nightmare. My husband’s sworn enemy broke into our home, seeking revenge. I was brutally cut open and my baby was ripped from me. Yet, I made the chilling choice not to call my husband for help. In my previous life, desperate and terrified, I begged him to return home. He abandoned a Valentine’s dinner with a scholarship student to rush back. That night, the student was preyed upon in a bar, leading to her tragic suicide. My husband’s wrath was unrelenting. Blaming me for her death, he locked me in a kennel, leaving me to be savaged to death. “This is the pain Wynne endured because of you. Now it’s your turn to suffer!” Given a second chance, I resolved to make a different choice. This time, I let him stay for his romantic Valentine’s evening with her. But when I returned home, he had spiraled into madness.

Brody Lewis, my fiance, said that I had a rare form of transient global amnesia, which was a sudden, temporary memory loss. Every seven days, I would open my eyes and become the twenty-five-year-old Riley Taylor again. My memories were forever stuck in the past. In my pen drive were videos of Brody taking me on trips, bringing me for treatment, and proposing to me. Everything seemed great between us, but I remembered none of it. “Riley’s still around. Can’t you keep your hands to yourself?” “Don’t worry. It’s Monday tomorrow. After she wakes up, she’ll remember none of it,” Brody said, and my heart sank. “Isn’t this more exciting?” Brody embraced my best friend, and they made out brazenly in front of me. They were not shy about it at all. I wondered just how many times this had happened over the past two years. I ran as tears blurred my vision. When I arrived at a tattoo shop, I grabbed the tattoo artist like a drowning man holding on to a log. Then, I asked the tattoo artist to tattoo these words on my arm in my handwriting. [Leave him.]

My husband threw me into the crocodile pit to help his childhood sweetheart, who was a KOL, gain popularity. To make the live stream more realistic, he personally tossed bait at me. “Have you not eaten? My grandma can run faster than you!” He watched as I bled from my abdomen, believing I was just pretending to be pitiful. When I asked for a divorce, he kicked me to the ground. “Since you love pretending to be pitiful to ask for a divorce, why didn’t you just let the crocodile kill you?” I handed him a medical report. “My child died because of you. Does this count as pretending to be pitiful?”

To cure our daughter's pancreatic cancer, I made a deal with the System, trading the rest of my life for a miracle drug. My husband called me insane to my face, but secretly gave the medicine to his mistress to treat her facial scar. When I was falling apart in despair, he had the audacity to explain: "Vicky has dreams of becoming a star. She's already 24, she can't wait any longer. "Besides, didn't you get that drug by sleeping around? How could a housewife like you possibly get such high-end medicine on your own? If you want to save our daughter, why don't you go whore yourself out again? It's not like it'll kill you, right?" But the truth is, I really don't have another life to trade for another dose.