Karma X Nagisa Novels & Stories

My twin sister died on her 18th birthday. She died of respiratory failure in a dark corner of a hotel after being raped. Her dearest friend, Joanne Lowe, whom she always cared for and supported, turned around and anonymously spread photos of my sister being raped. I then slowly ruined the face which had so badly wanted to replace my sister with a knife. With blood everywhere, I cradled Joanne's face as if it were a piece of art and said, "My beloved sister is gone, and you people who harmed her won't be let off so easily."

A group of unwelcome visitors suddenly show up at a relative's funeral. The man in the lead claims to be my wife's boyfriend and wants to punish me. Apparently, I'm her fresh-faced lover. I don't want this to turn into a big deal because we're at a funeral, so I tell him we'll settle this after everything's over. Unexpectedly, my wife's boyfriend causes a huge fuss and instructs his men to pin me to the ground, wanting me to get on my knees and grovel at his feet. The rest of my relatives are unmoved by this. They watch as my legs get broken. I sneer and say, "Your girlfriend bought this urn for my mom. She spent a fortune on this, you know!" Sure enough, the man is furious. He clamors and wreaks havoc, ultimately smashing the urn to pieces. "How dare you parasites latch onto my girlfriend and try to exploit her! Don't think you're getting a cent out of her!" What he doesn't know is that the "mom" whose funeral is being held is my wife's mother and my mother-in-law. The funeral that is crashing is hers, and her urn is the one he's just smashed.

At the height of my love for Seth Scott, he gave his heart to someone else. The winter chill seeped through the walls, and I lay beneath my blankets, trembling through the long, dark hours. He was out there, holding another woman close, warming her feet against his chest. He dismissed me as dramatic, refusing even a final glance. But what he didn’t realize was that I was dying. And he would never have the chance to see me again.

The housekeeper became my stepmother, and together with her son, they humiliated and murdered me. After being reborn, I exposed a video of her affair with her lover at her wedding, destroying her reputation completely. I watched as she and her son were kicked out. They left with nothing, wandering the streets like outcasts. I smiled and tossed a moldy piece of bread into their begging bowl. “This is all you deserve.”

My mother-in-law and I were trapped during an earthquake overseas. The rescue team knew that my husband had a private plane nearby and asked me to contact him, but I could only shake my head in rejection of the idea. In my last life, I tried my hardest to call him and get him to come save us. My mother-in-law and I were saved, but my husband’s true love got angry and went out to let off some steam. The incident ended with her being tortured to death. In front of his mother, my husband said that his lover deserved it. Yet, on the anniversary of her death, he killed me the way she had died. “I’ve always known that it was your scheme. You have to die as Shevonne did!” This time round, when my husband took his lover on a private plane to admire the cityscape at night, he found out everything that had happened and went mad.

I was sitting at the police station. My landlord scolded me harshly and pointed at my nose. Out of nowhere, my mother called and berated me mercilessly. “Chloe went to your place and disappeared! Did you lose her?!” “I know you’ve had grudges against me and your brother all these years, but how could you take it out on your niece?” In my previous cycle, when my mother told me Chloe was missing, I panicked and searched for her everywhere. Instead of helping, my mom and brother’s entire family dragged me to court without hesitation. I could not understand it. Chloe disappeared on her way to my place. How was that my fault? I begged the police to clear my name and review all the surveillance footage in the city. But the footage showed Chloe arriving at my door that day, and I opened the door for her. After that, she was gone, as if she had vanished into thin air. I stared blankly at the footage of her hopping cheerfully into my apartment. I had no way to explain myself. My sister-in-law lost it. She was convinced I had killed Chloe and threw boiling oil at my face in a fit of rage. I ended up in the hospital. I was disfigured and completely crushed, both physically and emotionally. No matter how hard I tried, I could not recall ever opening the door for Chloe. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day Chloe disappeared.

On the very first day Jason and I made our relationship official, he insisted on handing over his salary for me to manage. He said marriage was only a matter of time and that he trusted his future wife to keep the money safe. On the day of our engagement, Jason demanded that I hand over the $960,000 in salary I had “kept” for him over the past four years. “Each month, I gave you $20,000. In four years, that’s $960,000. After expenses, there should be at least $800,000 left, right? I can’t bear to make my parents empty their savings for my marriage. We will use my savings for the wedding, $600,000 as the down payment for the new apartment, and the remaining $200,000 will be my wedding gift to you.” I froze. “But there isn’t a single dollar left!” Jason exploded. “You wasteful woman! You spent all the money?!” His mother also erupted. “So much money, and you squandered it all! What shameful acts have you been up to?! This marriage is off!” Jason demanded to see the accounts. I immediately pulled out the records in front of everyone. Seeing this, Jason’s mother panicked.

My mate-to-be, Ethan, said he had some urgent work come up right before our planned full moon trip. He bailed. I was missing him like crazy, so I immediately drove for over ten hours to his city. I hadn’t told Ethan I was coming. There I was, flowers in hand, standing outside his mansion, ready to give my destined mate a sweet surprise. But then I caught the mixed scent of Ethan and another female werewolf. The scent was sickeningly familiar. Amber Collins. Ethan’s ex-mate. I fought back the burn in my nose, my eyes already red, and pushed the door open. And what did I see? Them, sharing a glass of red wine, cuddled up, practically on top of each other. When Ethan finally noticed me, he jerked his arm away from Amber, walked stiffly over, his voice laced with panic. "Scarlett, why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

I'm in the middle of my pediatric shift when an emergency call comes in. A three-year-old boy arrives, hemorrhaging and unconscious from a car crash, but there is no matching blood type in the bank. Then, it hits me that my husband, Ethan Stone, has the same blood type, so I ask him to donate blood right away. When he arrives and stands frozen to the spot, I can no longer hold back my rage. "What are you waiting for? Saving his life is the priority here!" That's when the boy's mother sprints over and screams, "No! Close family can't donate! He's the boy's father!"

My employees host a savage livestream cursing me out as a cold-blooded Scrooge just because I didn't hand out frozen turkeys for Thanksgiving. What the internet didn't know was that our company, rooted in a powerful mafia family, has one, single, unbreakable tradition for every major holiday: ten uncirculated American Eagle gold bullion coins hand-delivered directly from our private vault. No paper trails, no taxes, no exceptions. As the whole internet was calling for my head after watching her livestream, I decided to give them exactly what they wanted. I sent out a company-wide memo: "To honor our cherished holiday traditions, the family gold distribution program will be discontinued this year. In its place, to ensure everyone experiences a traditional Thanksgiving, all employees will receive a complimentary, grocery-tier frozen turkey." The memo dropped. The office exploded. A stampede of my employees swarmed my office door, practically on their knees begging me to bring back the gold.