Perfect Strangers

I decided to choose a new husband after being reborn. I looked at Asher Vance, the boyfriend I'd devoted five years to, and I turned away without a second glance. Instead, I let my soft form lean into the solid, reassuring strength of his uncle, Alexander Vance. In my past life, I'd ignored the powerful CEO who wanted to marry me and insisted on loving the wild, free-spirited Asher. It wasn't until a sudden miscarriage ripped through me that I uncovered the truth—he'd been lacing the tonic he fed me every single day, without fail, with abortifacients. And his reason? He believed I wasn't as refined, as pure, as my sister Celeste Lockwood, and didn't deserve to carry his heir. Memories of our tangled moments in bed rushed back, how he'd so often whispered Celeste's name against my skin. Only then did I piece it together: every loss I'd suffered had just been a sick, flirtatious game between the two of them, a cruel inside joke at my expense. Fine. If that's how they wanted to play, in this new life, I'd just marry someone else. But on my wedding day, the ever-arrogant Asher collapsed in tears right at the ceremony.

I wasn’t even pregnant, yet I ended up popping abortion pills like they were candy. It was all because in my past life, the moment my widowed sister-in-law got pregnant, every single side effect of her pregnancy became mine. She strutted around happily with her big belly, consuming spicy tamales, while I was rushed to the hospital for violent nausea and stomach pain; she showed off her flawless skin in crop tops every day, while my stomach broke out in hideous stretch marks. When I told my husband what was happening, he just shoved me away impatiently. “Enough with the jealousy! My brother’s dead, and she’s carrying his only child. Of course, I should look out for her. Do you really have to put on such an act?” After that, my sister-in-law went even further. She kept testing her limits during pregnancy and even ate a mango she was allergic to. And me? I went into anaphylactic shock, landed in the hospital, and nearly died. Doctors couldn’t explain it. They just brushed it off, saying I was overly jealous and it was all psychological. Later, my sister-in-law tried to brand herself as a “hot single mom”. She went live, belly and all, to show off her weight-loss workouts. She jumped around for three straight hours. And me? My uterus literally gave out, and I hemorrhaged to death. When I opened my eyes again, it was the exact day she first announced her pregnancy.

The wealthy Hanson family makes it clear that whichever sister gives birth to the family's first grandson will inherit the billion-dollar fortune. In my previous life, my sister, under our parents' arrangement, married the strong and healthy third son, Jerome Hanson. I, on the other hand, was given to the gloomy eldest son, Lester Hanson, whose legs were paralyzed. Under my treatment, Lester regained full use of his legs. I became pregnant with the Hanson family's first grandson. Meanwhile, my sister was driven to madness by Jerome's abuse, becoming the laughingstock of every wealthy woman's dinner gossip. On the day I went into labor, my sister stabbed my belly with a knife. Then, she pulled me off a rooftop with her. Now, in this life, we start over. The moment Lester sends over a golden bridal bouquet, my sister snatches it without hesitation. "I want to marry Lester!" she declares.

When His Majesty King Dominic Thornfield was attacked, my husband, Roland Wentworth, Commander of the Royal Guard, was busy placating his first love, Vivian Sinclair, who had stormed off in a fit of anger. I did not light the signal flare in my hand. Instead, I used my heavily pregnant body as a human shield to protect the King and help him escape. In my past life, I had lit that flare. Roland abandoned Vivian to rush back and save the King. He was rewarded for his loyal service by being made a Duke Protector. However, Vivian fell into a trap and died on the spot. On the surface, Roland said nothing. Yet, on the very day I went into labor, he threw me into the Beast Dungeon. My face twisted in agony as I demanded to know why. Roland merely glanced at me coldly and said, "His Majesty had plenty of guards around him, so why did it have to be me who came back? You must have done it on purpose, only caring about power and wealth. If you hadn't lit that flare, Vivian wouldn't have died. Whatever suffering Vivian endured, I'll make you pay it back tenfold!" In the end, I was torn apart and devoured by the beasts. Even the child in my womb was consumed completely. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day the King was attacked.

At my wedding to a billionaire heir, Malcom Blair, I leaned down and kissed a filthy, ragged man begging by the entrance, right there in front of everyone. While the guests were still too stunned to react, I grabbed Christine Wagner, Malcom's cousin and my maid of honor, by the hair and slapped her across the face three dozen times in a row. Everyone thought I had lost my mind and tried to have me locked in a psychiatric hospital. Inside, I spent the whole night popping champagne and celebrating. In my last life, not long after the wedding, Christine, a pediatric nurse, set fire to a children's hospital. Many kids died on the spot. The police and the victims' families surrounded my house, screaming that I was the arsonist. I stood there, completely confused, while Malcom pulled out surveillance footage and pointed the finger at me. "You used to complain all the time that taking care of sick kids was worse than dealing with a dog, that it'd be better if they just died and got it over with. I never thought you'd actually be this cruel!" The families lost control. They doused me in gasoline and burned me alive…

The night I brought my boyfriend home to meet my parents, my dad insisted on playing cards with some relatives. When he came back, he collapsed to his knees in front of me, crying. Not only had he lost half a million dollars, but he had even gambled away my boyfriend to my cousin. He slapped himself and begged me for forgiveness. However, instead of yelling at him, I helped him to his feet. Then, I took out the savings I’d set aside for my future wedding and the deed to my house. “Let’s gamble one more time.”

My husband, Jared Smith, let me take his spot for a highland vacation. After I departed, I found out that I won a random lottery that I had bought before for $50 million. In order to not delay the redemption of the lottery ticket, I took a red-eye flight back home and wanted to share the news with Jared. Before I went into the house, I heard his smug laugh. “That jacket belongs to Sammy, I’m sure! That dumb witch has been eaten by a bear! I’m so glad that Penny and I sent her on that trip.” It just so happened that the tour group chat sent a video of a member being eaten by a brown bear. My jacket was bloody. However, I was not the one who had been wearing that jacket. It had been his lover, Penny Lee.

My best friend asked me to conduct a blood test on her before she got married to the richest man in the city. That was how I found out that she had AIDS. Due to patient confidentiality and her claim that her fiance would not mind, I did not tell him about her diagnosis. Later on, he contracted AIDS as well. When this happened, my best friend went online and pointed the finger at me. “Maya Sullivan intentionally kept the results of my blood test a secret. That’s why my husband got AIDS. It’s all her fault!” Even my boyfriend added fuel to the fire. “This isn’t the first time Maya has set Pearl up. She only got AIDS because Maya used an infected needle to take her blood sample!” No matter how much I insisted otherwise, everyone kept hounding me about it. To avoid the fallout, I was forced to move myself and my parents to another city to start fresh. However, in a fit of rage, Pearl’s husband crashed into our car and killed all of us. He was later sentenced to death, so Pearl inherited all of his assets. She then lived in luxury with my boyfriend. When I opened my eyes again, I discovered that I had gone back in time. It was the day that Pearl had undergone her health checkup.

My name is Daniella Limebear. In my past life, my long-lost younger sister, Heidi Limebear, returns home. On her very first day back, I hear the faint whispers of her heart: "At the riverside, I saw the other kids learning to swim with their dads… I wish I could join them." The next day, I drive Heidi to the clearest stretch of river in the countryside. I teach her to float and paddle, guiding her hands with mine. Without warning, she lets out a scream and disappears beneath the water. I plunge into the river, fighting against the current to reach her. Suddenly, she clutches my arm and pulls me under. With the last of my strength, I push her toward the shore. Water fills my lungs, and darkness swallows me. Amid the piercing wail of the ambulance siren, Heidi curls into our mother's arms, tears streaking her cheeks. Mom slaps me across the face. In Dad's eyes, there is only utter disappointment. "Heidi has already endured so much while she was gone for ten years! I can't believe you would try to drown her the moment she comes home!" he snaps. I stand frozen, unable to defend myself. Shortly after the incident, a group of troublemakers just outside the school gates corners Heidi. Once again, I "hear" her cries of despair echoing in my mind: "He said if I don't meet him tonight, he'll set our home on fire! Daniella, please save me! You're the only one who can." The moment I arrive at the scene, I'm immediately surrounded by a group of thugs. With cruel, mocking smiles, they close in from all sides. "Don't blame us. Your precious younger sister paid us five thousand dollars to kill you." "She claimed that once you're out of the picture, the billion‑dollar inheritance goes straight to her." Just as I begin to suffocate, I notice Heidi standing not far away. Her face remains perfectly calm and composed. When I open my eyes again, I realize I've returned to the day she was found and brought home. Once more, her inner voice echoes in my ears: "I really want to swim… I wish Daniella would take me."

Before my parents died, they arranged for me to marry Alan Palmer, the powerful but impotent overlord of Northingdale. The day I received the engagement letter, strange floating messages appeared before my eyes. [Don't marry him. He can't have kids, and he's violent!] [If you go through with this, that freak will torture you to death. Run!] [Your childhood sweetheart is your true love. Run away with him!] My childhood sweetheart, Leon Wade, grabbed my hand and looked into my eyes with what seemed like deep affection. "Tiffany, let's run away together. Have your maid take your place and marry Alan. She knows you well. No one will notice." Fooled by the so-called love in his eyes and those floating messages, I chose to go with him in my past life. I could only watch as the maid stole my identity as the heiress of the Glissons, gave Alan a son, and walked away with hundreds of millions of dollars in fortune. In the end, Leon held her in his arms. He tied a huge stone to me, kicked me into the ocean, and said smugly, "From now on, she's Tiffany. As for you, rot at the bottom of the sea forever!" I watched as sharks slowly tore into my body, pain ripping through every inch of me, until only my bones sank into the dark water. After being reborn, I finally understood that those floating messages were fake. They were carefully planted traps designed by Leon. Now, facing him and his pleas for me to run away, I let out a cold laugh and ignored the floating messages. "I'm not some helpless maiden. I'm marrying Alan."