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On the day my husband married my younger sister, I once again heard the divine message from the Astral Sanctuary: if I sever all ties to the mortal world within three days, I can reclaim the astral power I relinquished and return to the Astral Sanctuary. On the first day, I publicly cut my hair to symbolize the severing of love and signed the separation letter, ending my three-year marriage to the man I once loved. Holding my sister in his arms, he looked at me with disdain. His words dripped with mockery as he called me petty and jealous, claiming that sparing me the title of an equal wife had been his greatest act of kindness. On the second day, I drove a blade into myself six times, severing my bond with my cherished elder brother. He stood by, cold and unfeeling, sneering that I was nothing more than a desperate fool, resorting to theatrics to compete for his affection—a devotion he reserved entirely for my sister. On the third day, I clenched my teeth and carved through my own flesh and bone, severing my connection to the parents who had given me life. Enraged, they called me ungrateful and declared I was unworthy—not just of being their daughter, but even of being compared to my perfect sister. In the end, I succumbed to exhaustion and blood loss. My spirit ascended to the Astral Sanctuary, where I reclaimed my true identity as an Astral Maiden. When my family discovered my lifeless body left behind in the mortal realm, they all descended into madness.

She couldn't love him. His heart didn't belong to her. It belonged to another woman; one that had loved him for years. And in her heart, the heart that he was slowly stealing with each sweet word and every act of kindness, she knew he loved that woman still. Maybe she would have hated him longer if he had been anything like his mother. The woman who forced her into this marriage by threatening her sister's future. But he wasn't. Samuel Madden was everything she dreamed of ending up with but settling for him might mean settling for half. Half of his heart, half of a family, half of a husband. He had everything planned. The ring, the house, the way he'd ask the woman he loved to marry him. But with one word from his mother, threatening to ruin her life, he found himself at the altar, saying void vows to a woman he met only a month ago. He was ready to settle and wait until he was free again, but Kali Hastings wasn't an easy woman to dislike. Sure, she had flaws, but they were nothing compared to her tender heart and perky personality. Now, he was falling for a woman who was daily conquering more and more of his heart. But at what cost? There was more connecting them than even she knew. A truth that had been buried in his family since he was born. Would she still want him when she found out the truth?

All the relatives knew I had a "backward cousin." For my birthday, she gave me a grocery-store pound cake. When I ran a marathon, she presented me with a pair of worn-out canvas sneakers. At my graduate school acceptance party, she even sent a funeral wreath of white lilies with a sash that read "In Sympathy," wishing me an early departure to the afterlife. In my previous life, I slapped her so hard she tumbled down the porch steps. My brother took her side and plotted revenge, falsely reporting to the university that I had cheated on my SATs. My admission was revoked. "You're so modern. You know how things work," he sneered. "Plenty of people take a gap year. Just apply again." My father also defended her, cutting off all my financial support. "You've had so much schooling. You're so educated," he said coldly. "Support yourself." Alone in a city eighteen hundred miles from home, I fought to survive. I called my brother and my father again and again—only to be blocked. I delivered food while renting a room and studying to reapply. At my lowest, my hands were raw and cracked from frostbite, scrambling for delivery shifts at four in the morning just to earn a small bonus. Worn down by the cold and exhaustion, I suffered cardiac arrest at twenty-three and collapsed in a snowdrift in that unfamiliar city. No one ever came to claim me. This time, I chose to let it go and accepted the wreath with a gracious smile. To fully integrate myself into this family. After all, what is a moment of pride compared to a lifetime's inheritance?

On New Year's Eve, my older brother, Casper Shaw, attempted to expose me as a fraud and announced that Jenny Ford was the real heiress to the family. He pulled out a paternity test result and threw it in my face. "Open your eyes and take a look! Jenny is the Shaw family's real daughter. You're just a fake who has taken Jenny's place for so many years, yet you still have the nerve to sit here and eat New Year's Eve dinner with us!" Then, he pushed Jenny in front of us, revealing a face that looked exactly like my mom, Theresa. Everyone froze. I lunged for the report, but suddenly, a stream of floating comments rolled past above Jenny's head. [Is the female lead finally going back to her rich family and starting a sweet romance with her fake older brother?] [Not yet. Right now, they still think they're siblings. They only get together later, once the misunderstandings are cleared up.] [Am I the only one who feels bad for the female supporting character? She's the biggest victim in the whole book. She takes all the female lead's hatred that should have gone to her fake brother, and she gets treated as the fake heiress and sent to the Ford family to suffer on top of that.] I looked at Jenny's face and compared it to my own—we almost looked like twins. I checked our ID cards again, confirming that our dates of birth were exactly the same. "Seriously? Ever think that you might be the real impostor here who was switched at birth?"

I'm reincarnated a week before the college entrance exam. Despite being the soon-to-be top scorer, I stab my eye with a syringe. In my past life, Marianne Quentin, my boyfriend Lance Russell's childhood friend, reported me for cheating off her during the final mock exam. The teacher compared our papers and found that my essay was identical to hers. He harshly criticized me and warned me not to repeat my mistake. However, Marianne reported me for copying her answers again during the math exam. Once again, my answers were found to be identical to hers. The teacher scolded me for being incorrigible and sent me home to reflect on my actions. I couldn't understand what had happened. Clearly, I'd never cheated, but my answers were nearly identical to Marianne's, whether in writing and language or in math. As the SAT exam loomed over me, I could only suppress my doubts as I stepped into the exam hall. I finished the writing paper and thought I was safe. However, Marianne stepped out and accused me of cheating again. I tried to defend myself, yet the answers on my paper were identical to hers. In the end, I was disqualified, kicked out of the exam hall, and banned from taking any exams in the next two years—just because I "cheated". I succumbed to despair and leaped from the rooftop. When I open my eyes again, I'm back to one week before the SAT.

During the Labor Day team retreat, I had booked out the entire top floor of the Grand Summit Hotel. Yet, when my fiancee, Serena Wagner, found out, she was enraged. "Matthew Grant, are you out of your mind? Spending over 800,000 dollars to rent a place for one day? Since you're so rich and have nowhere else to splurge, just let me help you spend it!" Then, she called over our intern, Dylan Foster. She pointed at him and started yelling at me. "He only makes 6000 a month as an intern. Why don't you give him this money instead?" I looked at my colleagues standing nearby, their faces clearly uncomfortable. I replied calmly, "His salary isn't low compared to industry standards. Besides, the team-building budget belongs to everyone. Why should I give it all to him?" However, the moment those words left my mouth, Serena exploded. "I'm your finance director and your future wife! Of course, I get to control where your money goes. If you don't agree, then let's call off the engagement!" With that, she stormed off with Dylan. I silently picked up a bottle from the floor and poured myself three glasses. The first glass was for her, for being with me through the first half of my life. The second glass was for me, for having a clear conscience in this relationship. The third glass was for both of us. I wished us well as we parted ways and moved on with our separate lives.

The day Alpha Marcus and I marked each other, his first love, Cecilia, threw herself off a cliff into a ravine overgrown with wolfsbane. The pack searched for three full days and nights before they found her, barely clinging to life. She was once the most spirited she-wolf in our pack, but the fall cost her a leg and the ability to bear pups. I grieved for the beautiful life that had been ruined, and I blamed myself for not seeing how fragile she'd become. Marcus comforted me gently. "Elena, this wasn't your fault. Cecilia made her own choice. You did everything you could. Don't beat yourself up." Later, not long after our pup, Rylan, turned five, a sudden illness tore through him, and he died in my arms. Night after night, Marcus held me, wiping away my tears. "Don't be sad, Elena," he would murmur. "We'll have other children." I had always believed my mate was the most considerate, most protective Alpha in the entire world. Until the day I overheard him speaking with his Beta, Adrin. "Alpha, the dosage of wolfsbane we gave Rylan was perfect—just as you ordered. It looked like a genetic defect. No one will ever suspect." "It's been so long. Don't you think it's time to forgive the Luna?" "What's one pup compared to what Cecilia lost? She lost a leg, her future as a mother. Everything."

Being the least favorite and priority is a real struggle for Oleya Beautrin. She grew up still craving for her parents attention and love that they deprived her from. She grew up having the need to please everyone just so she will be enough and won't be compared to her twin anymore. But when she realized that pleasing them isn't enough for them to love her the same way as how her parents love her twin, she decided to stop and just go on with her life. She was happy. She found genuine friends that truly cares and love her. She also found the man that completed her. The man that makes her feel safe in his arms. But a tragedy happened that causes their relationship's devastation. She lost a life that broke her and her love of life. They broke up. And that's when everything started to crush her down. She begged and kneeed. She lowered her dignity a lot of times to ask for forgiveness from him. But he moved on while she was still in the dark, mourning. And the worst thing is, he is marrying her twin sister. A one night happened that will forever change their lives. She left to move on and gain herself back. And when she came back, she was ready to face the people who inflicted so much pain to her. And you know what's more? Oh. Her ex just came running back to her like nothing happened. Like he didn't called her names a lot of times. The question is, is she going to cave in and just forgive and forget? But how can she forget when someone who's extremely dear for her became a reminder about what happened that night. The reminder who is always with her.

She opened the door, and when she stepped inside, someone else closed it behind her. She jolted. Her head spun in shock to see him standing there. Her nerves felt jittery. He couldn’t possibly kill her now, could he? “W-what do you want?” Anna stuttered. The usual smirk wasn’t on his lips as he glared at her. “One thing I hate is when things don’t go as I planned. Silly little loopholes,” he said, pushing away from the doorframe. Her heart rippled when he took a step toward her. He was tall and large—she felt like a little girl compared to him. “I will scream,” Anna breathed, cold sweat rolling down her back. He held her chin. His hold was gentle as he caressed her jawline. Anna shivered. Then his lips tilted into a smirk—not enigmatic like the ones she had usually seen. This one was… sinister. One that told her he didn’t have good plans for her. “Careful there. We wouldn’t want you ending up with a broken spinal cord now, do we?” His large palm flew to her throat, his thumb gently caressing it. Tears brimmed in her eyes. “What do you want?” Her voice came out as a low whisper. “Your body,” he deadpanned. “As manure for my apple tree.” After being thrown to the wolves by her own father, Annalisa must make the ultimate choice—follow her heart or destroy the man she’s come to love.

I've been drinking milk since young, so my body is far more mature compared to my peers. When I'm 18 years old, my protective older sister, Yvonne Gibson, is worried that I might get my cherry stolen by others via trickery, so she specifically asks her best friend, Jasmine Joyner, to take care of me. But during our first meeting, Jasmine's gaze never leaves my crotch. After my graduation, I lead a double life. During daytime, Jasmine is my boss. At night, I'm her bed partner. Throughout our four-year secret relationship, I'm slowly molded into the lover Jasmine likes the most. Four years later, Jasmine's ex-fiance, Ethan Sawyer, has returned to the country. She quickly jumps out of bed and hurries to the airport in order to pick him up. I endure my physical discomfort the best I can as I follow her to the airport. An hour ago, Jasmine's soft body is entangled with mine. But now, she allows another man to embrace her right in front of my eyes. "Marcel Gibson, you climbed into my bed and took advantage of my intoxication four years ago. You're being unreasonable right now, and it's really getting old." The way Jasmine gazes at Ethan is very tender. The way she looks at me while mocking me is also awfully serious. I also think that things between us are getting old as well, so I text Yvonne and tell her to accept the Roberts family's marriage proposal on my behalf. Then, I look up at Jasmine with a smile. "Okay. Goodbye, then."