Reported Novels & Stories

My uncle, Jackson Yates, was a born pervert. While studying abroad, he was arrested for harassing female classmates and making lewd comments toward a female teacher. He was expelled and sent back home. After returning to the country, under the protection of my billionaire grandfather, he lived like an emperor, keeping hundreds of lovers in a villa. All of them vied for his attention. One day, he set his sights on my gentle, well-mannered wife—the rumored piano prodigy, Janelle Sanders. “My dear nephew, all because you grabbed your grandpa’s hand during your first birthday party game, the entire family chose you as the future heir. But as long as I don’t agree, you’ll never succeed.” He constantly harassed her, both verbally and physically. Janelle never tolerated it. She reported him to the police several times, resulting in him getting detained. She even scolded him sternly, “Cyril and I grew up together. Uncle Jackson, please remember your place!” Out of respect for his seniority, Janelle usually just reprimanded him coldly and walked away. Two years later, Jackson seemed to change. He took the initiative to manage a subsidiary and handled everything with impressive efficiency. Grandfather was pleased and handed the entire branch over to him. Just when I thought everything had returned to normal… At our son’s one-month celebration banquet, I saw Janelle in the kitchen. She was dressed provocatively as she desperately pressed herself against Jackson. Jackson lifted his head from her chest and gave me a smug smile.

After my husband topped the wealth rankings, he hired his first love as his personal housekeeper at a high salary. “Quincy, you hail from humble beginnings. I don’t want you embarrassing me in high society, so I specifically brought in Vivian to teach you the rules. From now on, everything you do must be reported to her for approval.” From that moment on, in public, I was the glamorous Mrs. Lane. However, behind closed doors, to even enjoy simple marital moments with my husband I had to write a thousand-word application seeking Vivian’s approval. Then, my adoptive father had a heart attack. I dropped to my knees, begging her to transfer me five hundred thousand dollars. She laughed coldly. “What kind of surgery costs half a million? Stop making excuses to pad your family’s finances.” “This isn’t a small sum. Write a 10,000-word application, and this time it’s denied.” Rage coursed through me, my body trembling uncontrollably as I spun toward Tyler and fell to my knees, begging him to save my father’s life. There wasn’t even a flicker of emotion on his face. “Vivian did nothing wrong. I know you’re still clinging to your old poor habits even after getting rich, but my money doesn’t grow on trees.” “This time, your father’s medical treatment will be put on hold as a lesson. Next time, don’t blame me if he’s kicked out of the VIP ward.” In the end, my adoptive father died on the operating table due to the delay in treatment. Completely disheartened, I finally asked Tyler for a divorce.

The day before the spacecraft launch, I am anonymously reported for concealing a mental illness and lose my qualification to board. After being confined in a psychiatric hospital for three years, my husband, Simon Bergman, who is now a decorated figure in the aerospace field, personally brings me home. "I had no choice but to send you there. I even applied to be demoted just to bring you back. Let's just live our lives well from now on," Simon says. Burdened by guilt for affecting his career, I spend the rest of my life carefully taking care of him and busying myself in the kitchen as a dutiful wife. But before I die, my daughter finds the letter accusing me of having a mental condition—it is written in my husband's own hand. She also discovers decades of correspondence between him and a deceased war buddy's widow named Charmaine Marlowe. In those letters, he writes that to fulfill his buddy's dying wish to take care of Charmaine, he fabricates a false mental illness record and inserts it into my astronaut application. As a result, I was sent to the psychiatric hospital, and my position was taken by her. The glass shatters, and the sharp fragments pierce me, like they are stabbing into my heart. I was supposed to be the one to go to space. But my husband sacrificed my chance so that another woman could have it! I die in despair. When I open my eyes again, I am back on the day of the astronaut selection for the manned spacecraft launch. This time, when Simon offers to help submit my application, I refuse to let him.

I'm the most obedient child in the village. Since I've failed to keep an eye on my younger brother, which has resulted in him suffering from a fall, my adoptive mother, Patricia Henson, breaks my left lower leg bone with an iron poker. "You useless bastard! Why can't you just die already? I was the one who saved your life, so you should pay me back with that life of yours!" As I look up at Patricia, I nod quietly. "Okay, Mom." Then, I turn around to grab the bottle of rat poison that's sitting on the kitchen counter. After unscrewing the cap, I begin chugging down the chemicals. Patricia is shocked out of her mind by my antics. Her screams fill the kitchen as she lunges at me just to knock the bottle out of my hands. But I've already taken a huge gulp of the poison by then. I end up getting sent to the hospital, where the doctors spend the next few days saving my life. Due to the severity of this incident, it's reported on the news, allowing my biological parents to track me down. Later on, they take me back to my actual home, which is a luxurious manor. But my older brother, Dominic Richmond, calls me filthy and wants me to cleanse myself properly. So, I grab a steel scourer and begin scrubbing my entire body with it. It doesn't take long before I'm completely drenched in my own blood. Some time later, Derek Richmond, my adopted younger brother whom everyone sings praises about, calls me disgusting with tears streaming down his cheeks. He also claims that he doesn't want to see me at all. Dominic points at the balcony while yelling at me, "Can't you just die already?" As I look at him, I just smile serenely. "Okay, Dominic." After that, I jump off the balcony. At that moment, I hear Dominic's hysterical screams.

My sister-in-law, Maeve Cohen, floored my luxury car and blew past traffic at about 125 mph, killing a family of three. She pretended to be me and acted as if nothing could touch her. "Those idiots walked into my path! It's not my fault they got hit!" she snapped. "I'm the Lincoln Enterprise heiress. Even if I ran, who would dare catch me?" In my last life, Maeve said her husband wasn't home and she needed a car to visit her parents, so she borrowed mine. She ended up racing down the road, plowing into a family crossing the street, and driving back over them to make sure they were dead. The couple had just bought a house. The baby was only a month old. When the victims' family demanded an explanation, she hid behind my reputation and spat venom. "They're just three worthless people! I'm the Lincoln Enterprise heiress; why should I explain myself? Tell them to come to me for funeral expenses!" The grieving family couldn't take it and came to my in-laws' place. "Three worthless people, huh? Today, we'll end you so you can apologize to them in person!" My husband had died the year before. With no one to protect me, the victims' family turned on me, and I was stabbed to death. The valuable wedding gifts my family had given to me became Maeve's overnight. My family tried to appeal for me, but trolls who hated the rich maliciously reported tax problems about my father's company. My father was driven to exhaustion. One night, he fell asleep at the wheel, and the car plunged off a cliff, killing him. Only after I died did I discover it had all been Maeve's plan to ruin us out of spite. Then I opened my eyes. I was back on the day Maeve took my car and ran into those people.

During orientation training, the class belle, everyone’s favorite, led the entire class to protest against the orientation leader. The orientation leader threatened to make us run as punishment, but she took on everyone’s training load by herself. But in reality, she shifted all the exhaustion onto me. She ran 30 miles while carrying weights without batting an eye. Then, she told the orientation leader that she was willing to take on all the class’s remaining orientation training duties by herself. From that point on, she became the darling of the entire class. Meanwhile, I was exhausted beyond measure, was frequently hospitalized, and was late to training. It affected our class’s honor roll standing. I got yelled at by the whole class. When I explained the situation to everyone, they dismissed me as a nutcase. “You’ve only been in training for a few days! How could you be this exhausted? I think you’re just faking it.” “Are you just jealous that Eira Yard is in better shape than you, looks better than you, and is even more popular than you?” In utter despair, I confronted Eira, but she casually changed into her orientation training uniform. “Please step aside. I’m going to run the final weighted cross-country race on behalf of the entire school. I don’t have time to mess around with you.” Once she was done with the run in the 104-degree heat, her expression remained cool and collected. I, on the other hand, felt as if my limbs had been severed. My organs failed, and I died on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the first day of orientation training. This time, I beat everyone to it and reported to the orientation leader. “I’ll run for the whole class.”

My adopted Omega sister, Maya Bardolph, is known to be innocent and kindhearted. Before the practical admission assessment, I specifically tell her not to interfere in any way. But she secretly puts a prohibited performance booster into my water bottle. I am reported for cheating on the spot. My results are canceled, and I am permanently blacklisted. When I break down and demand an explanation, she bursts into tears, looking pitiful and wronged. She weeps, "Sierra, I just wanted you to get first place... I didn't know things would turn out like this." My boyfriend, Dale Ashshade, immediately pulls her into his arms and blames me instead. He scolds, "She is only trying to help. Why are you being so harsh to her?" My parents chastise me frostily as well. "Isn't it just one practical assessment? She's an Omega. She doesn't understand these things. Can't you be more patient with her?" To apologize, Maya smilingly brings me a cup of herbal tea later. "Sierra, I made this just for you. Promise you won't be mad at me anymore after you drink it, okay?" Without thinking much about it, I drink the tea. But what she uses to brew the tea is highly poisonous silver oleander. I die from the poisoning. Outside the emergency room, Maya cries hysterically, "I'm sorry! I didn't know silver oleander is poisonous... I just wanted to apologize to Sierra..." When questioned by the Enforcers, Dale calmly gives false testimony. "After Sierra was caught cheating, she became mentally unstable. She couldn't accept how things turned out and took silver oleander to kill herself..." When I open my eyes again, I return to the day before the assessment.

In my past life, my mate Marcus ran off to the forest to make love with my best friend Scarlett, who was eight-month pregnant. That’s when they'd be surrounded by a pack of rogue wolves. Scarlett, heavy with child, started bleeding heavily. Both of them desperately called for the Border Guard. As the Chief Warrior, I had risked everything to fight those rogue wolves. But Scarlett still died along with her unborn pup. My mate Marcus led others to accuse me of using my position for personal revenge. He personally severed both my hands with a silver blade. "A warrior without morals like you deserves to burn in hell!" he snarled. But I remembered clearly—when I drove off the rogues and got the pack healer to Scarlett, she barely had a scratch on her. Finally, Scarlett's parents arrived. I begged them to examine her body and investigate the truth. Instead, they reported to Alpha that I had neglected my duties. They claimed I was high on wolfsbane while guarding the border. Alpha exiled me for fifteen years. With both hands severed, I had no way to fight or shift properly. I survived by begging scraps from neighboring territories. Fifteen years later, I returned to the pack. I saw my mate Marcus walked through the airport's first-class terminal with Scarlett and their son. They were using my inheritance to fund their luxury vacation to the Maldives. They spotted me. Without hesitation, they pushed me into a silver pit to destroy all evidence. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day Scarlett faked her death. This time, I took one look at the scene and declared them beyond saving. I told my assistant to send them to bury them directly.

The entire ward could hear the thoughts of the beautiful intern nurse, Sonya Row. When a patient kept vomiting nonstop, and I suggested increasing the pain medication, she stood nearby, sighing. [What should I do? Should I tell the family this painkiller can be addictive and really bad for the body? If they just wait a few more minutes, he'll recover on his own. There's no need to spend money at all.] The room fell silent in an instant. Everyone's gaze shifted toward me, and the family quietly refused my treatment plan. After that, I became the joke of the entire department. Every patient specifically asked not to be assigned to me. Later, while comforting a terminal stomach cancer patient, I followed her family's wishes and lied, saying it was just gastritis. Sonya complained about it in her thoughts. [The patient's practically dying already, but she's still saying she can be cured. It's obviously just to trick this old woman into draining her life savings on treatment.] That night, the old lady jumped off the building so she wouldn't burden her family. Her family thought I had revealed the truth and driven her to her death. They reported me directly to the hospital director, and I was stripped of my position as department head. Then, on a holiday weekend, the hospital admitted a pregnant woman with a suspected amniotic fluid embolism. To save her life, I had no choice but to remove her uterus. At that moment, Sonya's thoughts rang out again. [She doesn't have an amniotic fluid embolism at all. She was on her phone during surgery, which caused this. Now look what happened. This baby's a girl. This family wanted a son, and now they'll never get one.] The family attacked me on the spot, recorded it, and posted the video online to harass me. The desperate husband, obsessed with having a son, stabbed me to death to vent his rage. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Sonya first revealed her thoughts. This time, I could hear her thoughts, too.

I was reborn back to 1975, when the child in my womb was three months old. I did not tell anyone and quietly had an abortion. However, I still wrapped cotton around my belly every day, pretending the baby was still there. In my past life, my husband Declan Huxley's childhood sweetheart Jane Patton and I gave birth on the same day. She had a healthy, ordinary baby boy. But my child looked nothing like us—he was mixed-race, with features of the Valorian people. Declan and I were both locals, so there was no way our son could look like this. Enraged, Declan scolded me in front of everyone, accusing me of cheating on him and having a disgraceful affair with a Valorian. No matter how many times I explained, no one believed me, and I became the shameful woman everyone pointed at. Worse still, Declan reported me and handed in some foreign letters he found at home, which led to me being taken by federal agents and sentenced as a spy. I spent ten years in prison, and when I finally walked out, I was nothing but skin and bones. Meanwhile, Declan had climbed the ranks for his so-called loyalty to the country. He held Jane's hand and brought along my real son, Seth Huxley, then threw 500 dollars at me like it was charity. He said, "Back then, Jane was accidentally deceived by someone else and gave birth to that brat. Unlike you, she has a gentle nature and couldn't endure hardship, so I had no choice but to switch your children. "This money is payment for your ten years and your reputation. You have a criminal record, and I already filed for divorce long ago to be with Jane. Seth also thinks you're not worthy of me, so you better take care of yourself." Seth also looked at me with disgust. "Mommy Jane treats me very well, and she's not like you; she's never been to prison. I don't want a mother like you!" When I learned the truth, the fury was so overwhelming that I had a stroke and died in despair. In this new life, I want to see how they plan to scheme against me when the child is already gone.