Novel & Cerita Should I Drink Omeluum Potion

A deal between families forced my Fiancé Marco Corvini to marry me. My parents were dead. His obsession was Isabella Falcone, the princess of our rivals. In the end, Marco devoured my family’s empire and threw me to the wolves. He paraded Isabella on his arm like a prize he’d won. Twenty years later, I was on my deathbed. My own son—our son—held the poison. He said I was useless, that his father needed the Falcone family’s power. Then I opened my eyes. I was back. Back on the day of my blood oath. This time, to save my family, I didn’t sign my name on the pact. I signed hers. Isabella Falcone’s. As for me? I took the fortune my parents left me and disappeared. This time, I wouldn’t be the fool bleeding for a man who was never mine.

My husband was the long-lost heir of the Riso mafia family. In my previous life, my husband Titus Holt's childhood sweetheart, Melissa Gunther, falsely accused me of stealing her family heirloom bracelet. It happened two days before I was set to leave the slums. Just as I was about to defend myself, Titus forcefully dealt with this matter and led Melissa and me out of the slums and back to the Riso family. I thought Titus did so because he trusted me, but then I heard Titus tell Melissa, "Noelle may not be honest, but she's Christian's mother. I can't let her bear the reputation of being a thief." Looking troubled, Christian also commented, "I don't want a thief as a mom. Dad, why did you bring her back? Wouldn't it be better to have Ms. Gunther as my mom?" I felt a chill run through me. It turned out Titus had not done all this out of trust; he just felt I was too embarrassing. Even my son had hated me his whole life. In the blink of an eye, I was reborn back to the day Titus suppressed public opinion. I silently booked a ticket to Swizor. On the day Titus took my son and Melissa back to Napple, I would leave and never see them again.

I cooked an entire dinner spread to celebrate the day I was supposed to marry my girlfriend. Then, I called her to ask when she would be home. However, I heard her jeering about me with her friends the moment the call connected. "Lydia, Owen is way too easy to fool. That fake marriage certificate didn't even have an official seal, and he still bought it, believing he was your husband. We wouldn't have had to pretend to work at the City Hall if you and Trevor hadn't already gotten the real one." Lydia let out a careless, mocking chuckle. "Husband? Please. He's just a desperate fool who follows me around like a lovesick puppy. The only he's good for is being my free live-in maid. Trevor and I grew up together. He's the one who's always mattered most to me." My fingers tightened around the fake certificate as tears blurred my vision. I had loved her with everything I had for five whole years. Yet, my devotion meant nothing to her. I had never even been considered as a candidate as her future husband. I had only been free help. The woman I had wanted to spend my life with had never loved me at all. Fine. I called my childhood friend instead. "Are you free? Let's go get married."

Whenever Rachel Cooper loses it, I know I'm about to get divorced again. I close my eyes. "We are divorcing for the ninth time." Marcus Miller massages his temples and says regretfully, "Vivian, Barry died all of a sudden, leaving his wife and her unborn baby behind. I can't ignore them. Relax. Once the baby's born, we'll remarry. We won't separate ever again!" I remain silent. I already heard this promise eight times before. Barry Miller's sudden death is the reason for Rachel's breakdown. It also caused Marcus and me to divorce for the first time. Back then, Rachel was already pregnant, prompting Marcus to divorce me. He will remarry me once he has comforted her. Over the past nine months, we have married and divorced eight times. Everyone mocks me by calling me the Eight-Ring Wonder. I also find it ridiculous. After I accept the divorce certificate, one of the court staff secretly asks me, "When are you getting married again?" I answer calmly, "There's no next time."

Melissa Jones, the so-called 'fake' heiress, lost her memory trying to save me. Her memory was stuck at the time she was 18, back when our lives had not yet been set right. Everyone told me to be the bigger person. In the new family portrait, I was the only one missing. My biological mother tried to comfort me, "Shirley, be reasonable. It's just a photo. We will make it up to you later." I applied for the vice president position year after year, only to be rejected five times in a row. Then, when Melissa said she wanted to learn the business, my brother, Maverick Jones, approved it immediately. Afterward, he turned to me and said, "You should give way to Melissa. You're the reason she lost her memory. I'm helping you make up for it." When I went into labor and needed my husband, Charles Smith, to sign the consent for a C-section, he was one floor above me, accompanying Melissa to a follow-up appointment. I called him seven times. He declined every call. In the end, my seven-month-old baby suffocated. Even in a wheelchair, I went to demand an explanation. However, outside the hospital room, I heard Melissa crying. "Back then, you all agreed I should pretend to have amnesia. I'll never randomly decline calls for Charles again. I just want to stay by your side for three more months." There was a moment of silence. Then, Charles and the others agreed. At that moment, I was not angry. I just felt something inside me turn completely empty. I turned around and accepted my adoptive parents' request to return to Nebula City. This time, I would give these people what they wanted.

Right after the SAT results dropped, the admissions representatives from Blackridge University practically fought over me so fiercely it felt like they'd set the whole room on fire. They made an outrageous offer just to win me over, claiming that I could bring one friend along with full admission. As the clock reset, I chose no one this time around because I'd already lived through it once. In my last life, I didn't hesitate to pick my childhood best friend, Shawn Hooper. I gave him a ticket into a world he could never hope to reach without my help. And what did I get for it? A look of pure disgust. "You're pathetic," he sneered. "It's laughable that you'd dare use something like this to drive a wedge between Madison and me." Madison Cole was our class president. She was the golden girl and everyone's favorite girl. She couldn't handle losing both the guy she loved and the future she thought was hers. So, she jumped from the roof of a building. Shawn found her final message and lost his mind. He told me the class was having one last bonfire party just outside town. It was a lie. He took me there to torture me before leaving me to die. Our entire class covered for him. Every last one of them told the police I'd slipped near the ravine and fallen by accident. … A week after my death, my parents died in a supposed highway pileup. My soul never moved on, and that was how I discovered the truth—Shawn had orchestrated everything. When I reopened my eyes, I quickly realized I was back on the day when Blackridge University fought to recruit me. I wouldn't choose anyone this time. No, the only one I would choose was myself.

Before my wedding, my vision which I lost after saving Bruce unexpectedly returned. Overjoyed, I hurried to share the wonderful news with him, but as I stepped into the living room, I froze. Bruce and my cousin, Kerry, were in a passionate embrace. "Bruce, the baby is perfectly healthy now. The doctor said we can sleep together again! Why don't we do it right here in the living room? Also, isn't it thrilling to do it here while Nancy is asleep in her room?" "Shut up! Don't joke about my wife like that!" Bruce snapped at her, but his reprimand was accompanied by a kiss. I stood there, watching in shock as their movements grew more intense and their breathing became heavier. Only then did I piece it all together. Their sudden shared enthusiasm for indoor workouts six months ago wasn't about fitness at all. Covering my mouth to stifle a sob, I turned back to my room and shut the door. I decided then and there: Bruce didn't need to know I had recovered. Reaching for my phone, I dialed my mother. "Mom, I'm not marrying Bruce anymore. I'll marry the comatose heir of the Blakes instead. I don't need Bruce in my life."

My fiancee, Isabelle Bailey, engages in a passionate kiss with her stage partner, Shawn Sanders, in a theater play. While the audience is wholly touched by the romance depicted by the main characters of the play, I know for a fact that the actual script doesn't feature the kissing scene at all. Guilt flickers across Isabelle's face at my confrontation. But she argues, "We were just acting! Are you saying that I can't act out romance scenes anymore?" I no longer demand answers from Isabelle like a hysterical fool. Instead, I give the roses that are cultivated from a new breed to the background actors. After leaving the afterparty, I call my mentor, Patrick White. "Professor, I'm willing to travel to the northwest to plant roses there."

As human fertility rates kept falling, the government created a matching system between humans and beasts. That was how I became engaged to the Blackwood brothers—two wolf beasts who never wanted me. For a year, I made coffee for both of them every morning.The older brother, Adrian, kept his distance, but he always took the mug and thanked me quietly. The younger one, Kieran, was all temper and sharp teeth. He snapped at me, broke the mug, and acted like I was a nuisance. I told myself this was fair. If I treated them the same, maybe one day this arranged bond would feel like home. Then my best friend saw it and asked, “Have you ever thought that treating them equally might be unfair to the one who’s actually kind to you?” I thought about that all day. Then one morning, I walked out of the kitchen carrying only one cup.

I was abandoned and someone took me in, but being born in a mistake, I've never been a part of this world. Until a hit is taken out on me. I'm kidnapped in the night, heading to have fun, but waking up, it's to come face to face with Dimitri DiFronzo. Dangerous and heartless, Dimitri is the most feared man in the world. I've heard rumors about his potential. I find myself in a nightmare where I don't know who I can trust, and fear for my life is my only constant companion. I'm forced to be at Dimitri's mercy, I'm just not sure he has any. The fact that he is disarmingly attractive, doesn't help either. Tall, dark, and deadly. Knowing this, he uses it against me like a weapon, breaking down my walls faster than can put them up. There's a war coming, and I'm right in the middle of it. The only question is, will Dimitri be the one to save me or kill me?