Male Protagonist

Due to my heightened sensitivity, even the slightest touch causes an uncontrollable reaction. My husband, concerned, sends me to the hospital for treatment. As I lie on the operating table, the attending doctor unexpectedly triggers a wave of intense response from me—right in front of my husband.

"Please help me, Kyle. I think a flea got under my dress while I was walking the dog. It itches so badly." My goddaughter came to me in distress after being bitten by fleas in an unfortunate spot during her evening walk. What started as an innocent request for help with the itching soon became more complicated when she insisted I needed to help her with the problem more directly.

To pursue the goblin prince Cole Hutch, I devoted five years of my life. However, on the very day I'm about to marry him, dressed in a wedding gown, I overhear a conversation between Cole and his friend. "Cole, are you really going to marry Lilian?" his friend asks doubtfully. A shadow flickers across Cole's eyes. "Of course. The Heroic Alliance has been eyeing our kingdom for a long time, and now that Shia is pregnant with my child, the alliance elders are displeased with me. Marrying Lilian is the perfect way to appease them." "Aren't you afraid Lilian will find out you've been seeing someone else and go after Shia?" The friend asks again. Cole replied, "She won't. She's madly in love with me. She'll keep the secret for my sake. She's gentle and easy to control. As long as I marry her, we can at least delay a war against our kingdom, and Shia will be safe." My entire world shatters at that moment. In my daze, I get ambushed and gravely wounded. And when I finally wake up from my unconsciousness, I remember everyone, except Cole. So, when the leader of the Heroic Alliance contacts me to ask me to return for an arranged marriage, I immediately book a portal back seven days later.

I, Celine Walsh, and my dear sister, Caroline Walsh, became Pregnancy Maidens, who were fertile for merfolk, through the ingestion of special elixirs. We were betrothed to the merfolks through a political marriage. In my previous life, I had chosen a silver-finned merman who was powerfully built, but rough on the eyes. With him, I gave birth to several black-finned mer-children that were prized pedigree. Through them, I was elevated to the status of Crown Princess, enjoying a life of luxury and a prolonged lifespan of several centuries. Meanwhile, Caroline, who picked the purple-finned merman only ever gave birth to red-finned mer-children, which was considered the lowest of lows. For that, she became the laughingstock of the merfolk. Driven to madness by her jealousy, she took my inner pearl, turned me into minced meat and fed me to the fishes. When I finally opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day of my wedding. This time, Caroline quickly chose the silver-finned merman without any hesitation. Unbeknownst to her, rising to power through her children was not as easy as she had imagined. The silver-finned merman was a promiscuous and depraved one, the very embodiment of cruelty. His favorite activity? Torturing a pregnant lady…

Here's a piece of advice—do not catch the eye of those pretty salesgirls who sell supplements. You have no idea the things they'll do to close a deal. I become a yummy slice of cake in their eyes; they all want a bite of me. I'm faced with the seduction and allure of countless beauties, but it doesn't make me happy at all.

All along, I've been following a social media account that's dedicated to a couple sharing about their romance. It doesn't have a lot of followers, but the posts are all very heartwarming. The owner of the account records all the little details about his relationship with his girlfriend. They get into arguments over a plate of pasta before breaking into laughter and calling each other an overgrown child. They climb up the hill to hold each other under the sky full of stars, wishing they could make time pause at that very moment. Even though the owner of the account never reveals his face, I am always moved by the words he writes. The day before my wedding, the owner uploads a new post. "This marks the end of our ten-year relationship. From now on, she'll be his wife, and I'll only be his friend. There won't be any more updates to this account. I wish nothing but the best for my best friend and the woman he loves the most." The picture uploaded with this caption is one of my fiancee and me, taken from behind.

"Hubby, kiss me. I miss you so much. When are you coming home?" Out of nowhere, I received a text. The sender was the cold, untouchable CEO who was currently scolding us in a meeting, Veronica Starling. What shocked me even more was the timestamp on the message. It was sent five years in the future.

When news of my arranged fiancee's death arrived, I didn't cry or make a scene. Instead, I quickly reclaimed her shares and had the death certificate issued. I did it because I've been reborn. In my past life, Dad was worried that women would eye my fortune as the heir to the wealthiest family. So, he arranged for me to marry one of three women he personally picked. I chose the most outstanding one, Monica Harris, and married her. However, just three days after our wedding, she died suddenly. Heartbroken, I was persuaded by the remaining two women to give up on marriage and remain single for life. At 80 years old, when I returned to our special place in Sunmere Valley to reminisce, I saw Monica. She should have been dead for 60 years! She stood beside Liam Rogers, my driver who'd gone missing decades ago, surrounded by their children and grandchildren, living a picture-perfect life. I realized I'd been deceived my entire life. The shock sent my blood pressure soaring, and I died of a stroke on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I was transported back to the day I died. This time, I'm going to find out exactly how someone who's supposedly dead keeps on living.

In the first year after marrying Victoria Kingsley, I choose to celebrate the holidays with her in her childhood home. At dinner, my mother-in-law suddenly claims that she's lost her gold bracelet. That's when Victoria's childhood friend, Jonathan Zane, points at me. "You must be the one who stole the bracelet! After all, you've been a serial pickpocket since you were young!" Everyone turns to stare at me, their gazes unkind. I thought Jonathan must have mistaken me for another person, so I tell everyone that I never stole the bracelet. But Jonathan continues confidently, "You were punished for stealing from others in high school all the time! Not to mention, I saw you at the police station last month! There's no way I'd have gotten the wrong guy!" Then, Jonathan lays down the details including the time, location, as well as the clothes I was wearing that day. All I feel is mixed feelings at the moment. The thing is, I was at the police station because I needed to obtain some evidence. After all, I'd already joined the judiciary a long time ago. Last month, I was even promoted to the presiding district court judge.

On Valentine's Day, I paid in full for a sports car and gave it to my wife as a gift. But when my wife arrived at the private dining restaurant, she brought her parents—and her childhood sweetheart—along with her. The moment my mother-in-law saw it, she slammed her hand on the table, furious. "Tyler, do you have so much money that it's burning a hole in your pocket? Is all this really necessary just for a meal? "Megan pinches every penny at home, and here you are throwing money around outside—just to show off?" Embarrassed, I tried to explain that this was simply a token of my love for Megan. My father-in-law, however, kept a stern face. "No matter how expensive the car is, it's still going to get stuck in traffic during rush hour! It's not even as useful as the electric scooter Brandon gave her. If you ask me, you didn't put any real thought into this. "Oh, right. I heard the salesperson who sold you the car was introduced by Brandon. How exactly are you planning to repay that favor? No matter how busy you are with work, you can't just push everything onto Brandon to handle for you." I could hear the hidden meaning behind his words. So that was what this was really about. They were still holding a grudge because a week ago, when my father-in-law had twisted his back, I hadn't gone to the hospital to visit him. But at the time, I had been busy cleaning up the mess Brandon Hayes had caused for the company. I'd even kept him out of prison. Yet, instead of gratitude, they were turning the blame on me. After a long silence, my wife finally looked at me. "Tyler, transfer ten percent of the company's shares to Brandon as repayment." "And if I don't?" My father-in-law barked angrily, "Then I'll have Megan divorce you!" I laughed. Then I calmly pulled a divorce agreement from my pocket and placed it on the table. "Go ahead," I said. "Sign it."