Novel & Cerita Ralph Breaks The Internet Sugar Rush

My best friend, Mason Lodge, and I transmigrate into a novel together. On top of that, we even marry into the same wealthy family, known as the Grants. Unfortunately, Stella and Tanya Grant's mutual first love, Eric Stewart, returns to the country on the day after our transmigration. Everyone keeps advising us to just get our checks and dump the sisters. But Mason and I just glance at each other with smiles on our faces. "Are things really that bad overseas to the point that he comes running back to the country as soon as he hears about the Grant sisters' marriages?" "Just listen to how sickly sweet his voice is! Isn't he worried that he might contract diabetes for real?" As soon as our words fall, I see Stella looking at me in disgust. Meanwhile, Tanya glares at Mason angrily. Honestly speaking, there's no way a pretentious bastard like Eric can ever win against Mason and me, who are known for seeing through all the facades that a typical pretentious bastard can ever put on.

During the heatwave apocalypse, I didn't die due to the heat, nor did I die in a conflict. My younger sister, Amber Carter, has a "heart of gold" by nature. She couldn't bear to see the people suffering in the apocalypse, so she gave away all the food in our cellar. After we ran out of food, Amber forced me to go look for food outside in the heat. That was how I died—from the heat outside. In this lifetime, I'm going to enjoy my ice-cold watermelon while watching Amber dig her grave with her own hands.

The Internet is shocked when Peyton Grant, an award-winning actor takes his life. His final tweet before his death is short and simple. "I like you so, so much, Ri. But you're too bright—you burn me whenever I get close to you." Everyone knows Rita York's character in her new show is called Rina. That's when I learn that the person I've had a crush on for a decade has someone that he loves but can't have. When I wake up one day, I find that I've traveled back three years in time. This time, I'm going to help Peyton make his wish come true.

As the Luna of the pack, I was replaced by a giant Plush Wolf Doll. Every night, Alpha Julian clutched it in his arms and fell asleep. Its voice—manipulated by Alpha pheromones—came out in breathy moans like a woman’s, keeping me awake all night. At our son’s first birthday banquet, I filed for divorce. “Maybe that Plush Wolf Doll is better suited to be your Luna. Let’s get divorced—I’m severing our mate bond.” “You’re jealous… of a stuffed toy? Chloe, have you lost your mind?” Everyone thought I was making a scene for no reason. Julian’s Beta assistant, Harper, was especially agitated. “The little wolf pup just turned one! Are you really going to let him grow up without a mother?” “I’m asking for a divorce, not dropping dead. How could he not have a mother? Or… are you getting so worked up because you want to replace me as my pup’s mother? Or maybe replace the plush toy?” Outside, my friend—and lawyer—Victor was already waiting. “I’ve sent someone to dig into it. The truth you want will be in our hands soon.” “Good. Three days from now, in court—you’ll be my lawyer.” I tapped open a strange video. The giant Plush Wolf Doll walked across the room, opened the fridge, and took a drink. But I remembered perfectly—this toy could only make sounds. It couldn’t move, let alone eat. Three days. That was all I needed to prepare. Then, before the eyes of the entire pack, the truth would have nowhere to hide.

On the day my marriage ended, the entire Vale family was celebrating my husband’s mistress for carrying the “heir” I had failed to give them. For five years, they called me barren. For five years, I protected Damian Vale’s pride while his mother humiliated me piece by piece. For five years, I played the perfect Luna while they prepared to replace me. So I smiled, opened the family group chat, and sent the one document that shattered everything. Damian Vale. Male. Congenital azoospermia. Permanent infertility. The room went silent. Then I looked at the people who had fed on my humiliation and said, “I was never the one who failed this family.”

I thought I was the Conti family's "legitimate wife." Until the day I saw it with my own eyes, my husband, Christian, resting his hand on my stepsister Emma's bump belly, gentle like he was cradling the future. Everyone told me to be "big-heated": when the baby was born, they'd put it under my name, make him call me Mom, because the family needed an "heir." Even the private doctor they hired announced it in front of everyone—steady heartbeat, and from the ultrasound, it looked like a boy. I didn't cry and didn't make a scene. I just picked up the phone and told my lawyer to initiate the divestment. Twenty-four hours later, Christian's cards were frozen, his projects got their loans yanked, and assets started getting seized— That's when he finally understood: he hadn't betrayed a wife. He'd betrayed the lifeline of the entire family. But what I really wanted to know was— When he dropped to his knees and begged me to come back, would I tell him— I had already picked out his grave?

I always thought if I just held on a little longer, I could still keep this family together. But my mate Ethan and my brother William poured all their favoritism onto Ava and her mother, and left me nothing but coldness and humiliation. They could even look me in the eye and say, “She’s your sister too,” like that was enough to make me bless them. That night, I did something so insane it bordered on self-destruction: I dragged my suitcase out the door and let the house that held all my memories get swallowed by flames. The news exploded, our villa became ruins. The security footage showed “no one leaves,” and the police made a preliminary judgment that the person inside was “highly likely deceased.” Ethan didn’t believe it. Not until he and William were handed that bag of belongings at the police station, a diamond, a Blood Moonstone, the things I treasured most, did they finally understand: I wasn’t throwing a tantrum. I was really, truly done with them. Too bad. It was already too late.

My family is on the brink of bankruptcy, and I beg my fiancé to help us with emergency funding. He turns me down cold, then gets engaged to Nellie White without hesitation. Just when I'm out of options, my childhood friend shows up with an investment contract and a marriage proposal. I say yes without thinking twice. But even with his help, our company can't escape ruin. My father, unable to bear the blow, suffers a heart attack and dies. At the funeral, overwhelmed by grief, I faint. In my haze, I overhear a conversation between my childhood friend and his friend. "You've already crushed Talitha’s family. When are you going to take her uterus for Nellie?" "On the wedding day," he replies casually. "I'll stage an accident, then operate on her myself. Her uterus will be Nell's. I can't give Nell happiness in this life, so I'll give her a wedding gift. I hope it makes her happy." Turns out his so-called devotion was just so he could take my womb. Even his proposal to me was just a way to remove all obstacles for the woman he loved.

Liliana just wanted to escape her past. Jarek Falcon had other plans. He’s the heir to a mafia empire. She’s a girl with nothing to lose. When Jarek’s obsession turns to cruelty, Liliana runs—straight into the arms of someone from her past. However, people change and when she discovers a sinister plan in the making, she finds herself running once again—straight to the streets. Years later, Jarek finds her again. He needs an heir to claim his inheritance. She needs a way to a better life. Their deal is simple: a child in exchange for a lifetime of security. But love complicates everything. Jarek realizes too late that Liliana isn’t just a means to an end. She’s the one he can’t live without. The problem? She wants nothing to do with him. Can he rewrite their story, or will his past destroy any chance of a future?

My brother came back from his heir-training course convinced he was destined to marry an ultra-wealthy heiress. He took my car and tried to crash into the rear of Wendy Hewitt's vehicle. That girl was a top heiress in Greateast's elite circle, and my brother wanted to set up a chance encounter with her. I slammed on the brakes and told him the Hewitts were no fools. If my brother were to crash into that car, it would ruin our whole family's finances and then some. Wendy eventually held a grand wedding that shook the whole nation. My brother was consumed by jealousy. He insisted he would have been the groom if I had not stopped him that day. That resentment festered into hatred. In the end, my brother drove his car straight into me. I died. … When my eyes snapped open again, I found myself back in the passenger seat—back on the very day my brother tried to create that so-called chance encounter. A smug smile tugged at his lips as his eyes stayed fixed on the car ahead. "The moment Wendy sees me, I'll have her heart. And then I'll ditch this scrap metal." I didn't stop him this time. My brother stepped on the gas and crashed straight into the 50-million-dollar supercar.