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Oh ... Yes ... Like that ... You are the best ... They were at it again. Ever since that young man had moved in next door, these sounds had frequently invaded my room. It wasn't just that they were so loud, it was that once they began, they were sure to keep me up for half the night. I hammered on the wall, hoping they would quieten down. If anything, the noises only got louder. I could feel myself getting angry. I was on the warpath. I stormed outside and hammered on his door. But I was not prepared for what I saw once it opened. I shouldn't be privy to this, I thought. After witnessing this, how can I be allowed to live?

When my son was born, I noticed a small, round birthmark on his arm. But the weird thing? By the time I opened my eyes again after giving birth, it was gone. I figured maybe I'd imagined it. That is, until the baby shower. My brother-in-law's son, born the same day as mine, had the exact same birthmark. Clear as day. That's when it hit me. I didn't say a word, though. Not then. I waited. Eighteen years later, at my son's college acceptance party, my brother-in-law stood up and dropped the truth bomb: the "amazing" kid I'd raised was theirs. I just smiled and invited him and his wife to take their "rightful" seats at the table.

The fertility clinic called to inform me that my embryos were ready for transfer. I touched my abdomen, still numb from the anesthesia of that morning's egg retrieval. Even with cutting-edge medical technology, embryos couldn't be prepared this quickly. Before I could call back to clarify, my husband stopped me. "Mom's been pressing us hard. I pulled some strings to fast-track the process so you can get pregnant sooner. Imagine twins! My buddies will be green with envy." Silent, I drove straight to the clinic and dialed 911 on the way. "Hello? I'm reporting a fertility clinic involved in illegal surrogacy."

I poured my heart and soul into securing a big deal for my wife's law firm. But when I stepped out for a quick coffee break, she fired me on the spot, claiming I'd gone AWOL for too long. "New company rule: ten minutes away from your desk, and you're out. You were gone for ten minutes and five seconds. Now grab your stuff and leave." I sneered and flipped the script, turning over proof of her siphoning funds to buy her intern boy a Maybach to the police. She thought she could burn bridges with me, but this bridge didn't crumble so easily.

My husband's protégé boasted she could disarm bombs blindfolded, relying on her so-called intuition. Her reckless misjudgment triggered a bomb's secondary detonation sequence, endangering an entire building. I intervened, using the dangerous liquid nitrogen condensation method to save the day. As a result, Rita Smith was removed from frontline duties and placed under investigation. Patrick Munoz tried to defend her, but I stopped him cold. "If you back her now, you won't just fail to save her. You'll be dragged down with her." Crushed by the pressure, Rita staged an accident that killed her, leaving a letter blaming him for abandoning her in her hour of need. He said nothing, only preserving her letter in his study. Years later, he became a nationally renowned bomb disposal expert. During a terrorist attack, I was strapped to a timed explosive. He arrived to defuse it but repeated Rita's fatal mistake. As the timer ticked down, he gave a bitter laugh. "Rita was just nervous back then. If I'd supported her, she'd be a hero today." The bomb detonated, leaving nothing of me behind. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the point when he tried to defend Rita. He didn't know that the building housed the nation's top-secret core server.

In my previous cycle, when I graduated from university, my cousin Laura gave me a gramophone. But after I received the gramophone, accidents kept befalling my family. In the end, even my boyfriend betrayed me to be with her. It was only then that I learned that all of this was my cousin’s scheme. After I got to the current cycle, I pretended to accept my cousin’s present but never used the gramophone. It led to the curse delivering such a vicious backlash to my cousin and her entire family that they died.

The beastfolk are a powerful race, and to strengthen our family's power, Father arranges marriages for both me and my stepsister, Arya Hearthguard. In our past lives, Arya entered a high-profile marriage into the wealthy, powerful dragon clan, while I was forced to wed into the crumbling lion clan. The clan leader of the dragons—Draken Vorgath—was cold and detached. He cared more for gold than his bride, leaving Arya in a glided cage of loneliness. Overwhelmed by the desolation, she seduced the future leader of the fox clan, who was flirtatious.. And when the scandal exploded, Draken resolutely divorced her. Arya's scandal brought shame upon our family. Despite Father's favoritism, he was compelled by family honor to exile her in disgrace. Clan leader of the lions and King of the Jungle—Kael Hawthorne—was a man of unwavering devotion. Our marriage blossomed, and within a year, I bore him a golden lion cub blessed with the Aetheric Divinity. With the Aetherborn, Kael rose to rule all beastfolk as the chieftain, and I became their most revered chieftess. Consumed by envy, Arya sneaked into my son's first birthday feast and strangled the golden lion cub in his cradle. Then, she set the place ablaze and burned me alive along with it. When I wake up, I am back on the very day of our marriage. This time, Arya volunteers to marry into the lions and leaves me the chance to marry into the dragons. I accept everything meekly with only a tenth of her dowry and marry Draken. Later, she bleeds her dowry dry, propping up the lion clan, only to fail in conceiving a cub. When the elders demand she mate with other males, regret drowns her. As for me, all I want in his new life is an heir and a quiet life among the dragons. But no one warns me about the dragons, least of all that my supposedly cold-hearted husband will relentlessly demand me once awakened. Or that his members came in pairs and ridges!

My brother calls me his princess and transfers money to me as allowance; his wife-to-be misunderstands and thinks I'm his secret lover. She crashes my new apartment, which I've lovingly decorated, with a group of friends and family. "I can't believe you're someone's secret lover when you're so young! I'll teach you a lesson on your parents' behalf! I'm going to spread your illicit relationship online so your teachers and classmates will all know how shameless you are!" They trash my new apartment and rip my clothes off. Then, they make sure to get my student ID in the scene as they record me getting bullied. My brother rushes over, his eyes red and bloodshot. "Have you guys lost your mind? How dare you bully my sister!"

Rhian Monteclara, a fun-loving and fiercely ambitious 25-year-old, is the face behind Glam Perfume—the brand that brought “One scent, one story” to life. Rhian only wanted to forget a heartbreak—but one drunken night leads to a pinky promise with a dangerously charming stranger in a crimson suit. She wakes up in his bed, wearing a nightdress she doesn’t recognize… and a promise she might’ve made to marry him. The catch? He’s not just any man—he’s Damon Damien Alejandro, a powerful mafia boss with secrets as lethal as his smile. And now, she might be his… whether she remembers it or not. But what if their meeting wasn’t random? What if he’s been watching her all along? And what happens when a bubbly dreamer finds herself in the deadly world of crime, secrets... and a husband who may be her greatest danger—or her only salvation?

On our fifth anniversary, my fiance, Caleb Alton, mixed up gifts meant for me and someone else. When he pulled out a set of lingerie, he looked flustered and explained that the store had sent the wrong item. The next day, I saw a video posted on social media by his junior colleague, Mia Lawson. The caption read, “He said that old lady of his is out of shape, but I look the sexiest in this.” In the video, she was wearing the same lingerie and lounging seductively in Caleb’s arms. I glanced at the engagement ring identical to the one Caleb wore and decided to call my boss. “Hello, Mr. Farrington. I’ve made up my mind. I can start at the branch office next week.”