Rebirth Novels

I find out I'm about two months pregnant before my wedding. Luke Logan drunkenly caresses my belly and half-jokes, "I'm not ready to be a father, Summer. Can we not keep the baby?" My heart is calm. I say softly, "Sure." In my past life, I insisted on keeping the child. Meanwhile, Riley Richards had an accidental miscarriage, making it difficult for her to conceive again. Luke held a grudge against me for that and treated me coldly after we married. As for the son that I put one foot in the coffin to bring into this world, he, too, cried and fussed. He wanted Riley to be his mother. Later, I got into an accident and suffered from significant blood loss. However, Luke and our son merely hurried past me to be with Riley as she went into labor. I slowly bled to death on the floor above, while Luke and our son celebrated the birth of Riley's child on the floor below. Now that I've been reborn, I won't lose sight of myself and take the wrong path again. I call Eric Nottingham. "I'll join the expedition team to Glacia."

On New Year's Eve, my daughter was critically ill. As she took her last breath, she said she just wanted to see her father one last time. But I couldn't bear to tell her the truth that her father was with someone else's child, lighting fireworks and celebrating New Year's Eve together. Beside me, calls continued being made, but none of them went through. My daughter passed away with regret in her heart, and I followed her into despair, jumping to end it all. Now that I've been given a second chance to live again, I looked at the man in front of me whose eyes were full of guilt and helplessness. However, my heart remained calm. "Just this once, Mariah. Tonya is sick, and she really needs me—" I cut him off and went to pick up my daughter. "Get out of my sight."

It all started when my sister made an offhand remark while sponsoring a poor student. She told him it was a coincidence that we were born on the same day, at the exact hour too. That comment made him convince himself that he was the real heir, that we were switched at birth. Soon after, he showed up with two thugs, kidnapped me, and planned to kill me to reclaim his life. I called my fiancée for help in desperation. Instead of saving me, she told me impatiently that I deserved to die for stealing his life. Her friend showed up to save me, but neither of us made it out alive after I was pushed into the river. I was back on the day when I was kidnapped when I opened my eyes again. When the poor student laughed and told me to pick someone to leave my last words to, I did not hesitate to call my sister. Their fates were sealed, with another chance at life, I would make sure to make them pay, and show them who the real heir was.

At my own wedding, I find out the woman behind the veil isn't even the one I'm supposed to be marrying. Instead of getting mad, I give her the wedding of the century. It's all because of what happened in my past life. I'd exposed that she wasn't my bride in front of everyone and blew up the whole ceremony. That forced Jessie Clarke, who'd been at the hospital with her childhood sweetheart, Oliver Grant, to rush over reluctantly so we could still get married. Because of that, Oliver refused treatment and died on the operating table. When I heard he was gone, I told Jessie she should see him one last time, but she refused. All she said was, "Blame it on his bad luck." After we got married, we acted just as in love as before. I kept getting money from my family to save her company every time it was on the verge of collapse. But on the anniversary of Oliver's death, Jessie shoved me off the top floor of her company. I hit the ground hard enough to end up a broken, bloody mess. As I fell, I caught one last look at her face, streaked with tears. "If you hadn't forced me back to marry you, Oliver wouldn't have died! You get to keep me, but I lost him for good! Why do you get to live a happy life?" So that was it. She'd blamed me for Oliver's death from the start. She'd never loved me at all. The next time I opened my eyes, I was back at our wedding ceremony.

In my previous life, after my parents divorced, my younger sister Fiona went with my father, Michael, who had a yearly salary of a hundred thousand dollars. Meanwhile, I left with my mother, Jessica, with nothing but the clothes on our backs. However, my father was fired by his company after that. He went bankrupt in an instant and lived in poverty. Meanwhile, my mother started her own business from nothing and ended up being one of the richest in Arman City with a net worth of over a hundred million dollars. Fiona was jealous of me and stabbed me to death the day I was to inherit Jessica's company. When I opened my eyes, I had returned to the day my parents divorced. When I saw Fiona wanting to live with Jessica no matter what, I knew that she had regressed as well. That was fine, though. I never wanted to experience that kind of lowly existence a second time.

After reliving my life for the third time, Soren Vantrell still died at 28. Unwilling to accept it, I started over again, meeting him and falling in love as before, until a sudden turn changed everything. He began claiming his mental state was unstable, using it as an excuse to visit his psychologist, Dr. Nadia Pembroke, again and again. Until one day, I caught them kissing inside her consultation room. With a light, mocking laugh, Soren said, "You might think I’m crazy if I told you this, but I really have died three times. Every single time, I died right next to Sloane Hartwell. "I was originally curious to see how she would try to save me this time. Now that I think about it, she must have been bad luck. Once I stayed far away from her, didn’t I end up living just fine?" I quietly stepped back. In this fourth life, whether he lived or died has nothing to do with me anymore. This time, I was going to live my own life.

A wealthy heiress from Belvoria’s elite circle asked me to be her dead boyfriend’s substitute. My compensation included a 50,000-dollar base salary, plus 8,000 dollars per shared meal and 10,000 dollars per accompanying shopping trip. My hypocritical older sister quickly stopped me from agreeing to this deal. “We come from a respectable family. How can you sell your dignity for such little money?” Yet she later became a rich man's mistress and successfully married into wealth. Meanwhile, I struggled to balance work and studies to pay for my tuition. This hurt my academic performance. After graduation, I could only find a job with a monthly salary of 3,000 dollars. I even developed a tumor from overworking. I eventually died in a cold and impersonal hospital, unable to afford treatment. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day the young heiress asked me to be her dead boyfriend’s substitute. This time, I agreed without hesitation. I was determined to take this role.

The housekeeper’s daughter, Selena Greene, deliberately chose to get married on the same day, at the same hotel as me. When our cars passed each other on the way to our weddings, she rolled down her window and asked to switch my bridal bouquet with hers. My bouquet, however, wasn’t just any bouquet. It was hand-carved from priceless jadeite by my grandfather himself—a one-of-a-kind heirloom and his blessing for my wedding day. “Trish,” she pleaded softly, “please. I’ve sacrificed so much for this wedding. I just want it to be perfect. I’ll give it back to you as soon as we get out of the cars.” My heart softened. Against my better judgment, I handed her my bouquet and took her cheap, plastic flowers instead. However, when we stepped out of our cars, she refused to return it. Worse still, during her ceremony, she tossed my jade bouquet onto the floor, shattering it into countless pieces. That bouquet had been my grandfather’s way of being present at my wedding. It was all I had left of him. Yet, in front of everyone, Selena put on an innocent act and accused me, “Who takes back a bouquet after a switch? A glass bouquet like this is all over online shopping platforms for ten bucks. I’ll just pay you back. Trish, you’ve made my life hard enough on normal days. Do you have to humiliate me on the most important day of my life, too?” Furious, I confronted her, but she ducked behind my fiancé and my brother, wiping at her eyes like the victim. My fiancé immediately went to comfort her, leaving me standing alone at the ceremony, humiliated and ridiculed by everyone. My brother, too, called me cruel and heartless. He cut me off financially and threw me out of the family home. Selena’s husband, having quickly risen to success with the help of powerful backers, unleashed his relentless revenge on the now penniless and alone me. In the dead of winter, hired thugs found me and brutalized me to death. And Selena? She became their princess, adored by all three of them. I sank into darkness, full of rage and regret. However, when I opened my eyes again, I was transported back to the day of the wedding.

My boyfriend, Sam Gibson, had a childhood best friend named Tina Lincoln. She was a star medical student. On the day Sam and I were supposed to get our marriage license, Tina took one look at the tight top I was wearing and flat-out claimed I had been sleeping around for years. She pointed at my chest with obvious disgust. “If men hadn’t been all over you, there’s no way your breasts would be this big.” Sam believed her completely. He started cursing at me, calling me a slut who had sleep with anyone, and refused to go through with the marriage license. I tried over and over to explain, but Tina just sneered at me. “People may be more open-minded these days, but that doesn’t mean you can sell your body and make your chest that big.” She used me as some kind of “example,” started a livestream to lecture people online, and exposed all my personal information. After that, strangers kept sending me disgusting, harassing messages, asking how much I charged for a night. Some even followed me and tried to force themselves on me. I begged her to clear things up for me, but she just shrugged and said, “If you never did that kind of thing, why would people be asking you?” In the end, I was assaulted and killed. And she went on to become a nationally famous influencer doctor, gaining fame and money at the same time. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I was supposed to get my marriage license with Sam.

My little sister Willa? Always played the noble princess—even during the freaking apocalypse. She was pregnant and still trying to look like some graceful queen. I told her to end it. Safer that way. She slapped me. "Shut up. How can you be so heartless?" Meanwhile, I skipped meals so she and her rescue-pet gang could eat. When I collapsed from hunger, she snorted. "Drama queen. Think of it as a free weight-loss plan." I dragged her to the base, the safe zone, and nearly died doing it. She snatched the last of my rations. "The baby and I are good. Give the rest away." I died from my injuries—frozen, starving, forgotten. Willa? She got crowned a saint. Even landed the baby daddy—the Deputy Governor—and kicked off her perfect little fairytale. Then I woke up. Back to the moment she asked me to swear I'd protect her and the baby. This time, I laughed in her face. "Die for all I care."