Sorry, I Upgraded My Life

My husband Dante, Don of the Moretti family, was killed in a gang crossfire. I was devastated, because the same day, I’d also found out that my IVF injection had worked. I was pregnant. The Moretti didn’t want me to spiral. So they called in Dante’s twin brother, Ash Moretti, to help around. I felt both guilty and grateful until I overheard them talking in the study. “It was Ash who died. Why would you make us tell Harper it was you?” His father asked. Dante’s voice. “I only married her because you promised me the Don’s seat.” Then Gianna’s voice. “Dante had given her a child. That alone should’ve been enough.” So. It wasn’t my husband who died. It was his brother. And my husband and his sister in law thought this was his clean exit. As he wished, I gave it to him. When the doctor told me the fetus had less than a ten percent chance of survival, I agreed to terminate. And along with reclaiming everything else I had once given the Moretti, I walked away from his life—for good.

The financially disadvantaged student I was sponsoring secretly went behind my back and sold my small island, which was worth two billion dollars. I was furious and confronted her, but she publicly slandered me in front of the entire school. She exclaimed, "I saw you doing unspeakable things with eighteen men on that island! You're still young and you can't keep making mistakes like this. I sold the island for your own good!" I was so enraged that I kicked her to the ground and prepared to call the police, but my brother stopped me. He and my fiancé stood in front of the student, protecting her. They accused me of being violent and in need of medical treatment. Before I could resist, they joined forces and threw me into a psychiatric hospital, where I died that night from food poisoning. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day I discovered the island had been sold.

My boyfriend of three years had a secret true love: my vicious best friend. For her, he swallowed my family business whole, froze every cent I had, and crushed my dignity into the dirt. When my father lay dying from a brain hemorrhage, I begged him for $50,000 to save his life. He refused cold-heartedly. At the exact moment my father died on the operating table, he was busy spending millions on rare jewelry for her. I didn't show up to our engagement party. Instead, I sent a "gift" that played on the big screen. That arrogant man went completely insane in front of the whole world.

(Trigger warning: this book has some elements of dark romance with an unhinged ML) "Would you give me your surname or better take mine then? Will you be the lucky man?" I blurted out having no idea of what I was saying. My head was already in the clouds and blinded by his smile. It calmed the storm in my mind. He laughed. Those dark abysses were truly alluring when they sparkled. His fingers grazed my cheeks, wiping off my tears, before cupping them in his callous palms. "If you love my surname so much." A foolish smile graced my lips, oblivious of the fact that he wasn't joking. "You can't back down now, hubby. You just got a wife." I thought I lost everything when I walked away from Sinclair. I never imagined I’d end up as Alaric Von Duvall’s wife. ******* Her life was written in stone. A perfect life one she always dreamt of. Everything Cassandra wanted was within reach until one night revealed the love she'd trusted was a lie. Betrayal and deceit from those she trusted the most made every belief she had crash down. What she didn’t expect was to stumble into a stranger's arms, into his bed and wake up married. Alaric gave her what she thought she wanted; now she can't take it back. One reckless mistake became a wedding vow. Now she’s trapped inside Alaric’s empire of lies. Married to a stranger who knows more than he’s letting on He’s dangerous. He’s charming. And in front of everyone, he claimed her as his . Caught between Sinclair’s obsession, Alaric’s shadowy intentions, and her family’s betrayal, Cassandra doesn’t know if this marriage will be her downfall… or her salvation.

I've spent a huge sum of money on a custom-fitted gown just so I can go on a date with my fiance, Vincenzo Rossi, on New Year's Eve. He's also known as the rising star of the mafia underworld. But Vincenzo sounds very impatient on the other end of the line. "Can you stop being so clingy, Grazia? I have an important business gathering to get to on New Year's Eve!" His younger sister, Valentina Rossi, adds, "My brother's doing this for the sake of your shared future, Grazia. Stop causing trouble for him, okay?" I end the call, feeling disappointed. After that, I console myself, saying that Vincenzo is working very hard for the sake of our future. But that illusion only lasts till the moment my friend sends a video clip to me. Vincenzo can be seen hugging a gorgeous woman in the clubhouse. They are in the middle of making out with each other. Valentina, on the other hand, leads her friends on as they cheer for the couple. It turns out that Vincenzo's "important business" is to spend the night with another woman. I drain my glass of the strong alcohol. Scorching pain flares from my stomach immediately. Since Vincenzo can find himself a woman to toy with, then why can't I do the same? I swipe a finger across my phone and dial the number of the rival family's Don. "I want you to order the two most good-looking male escorts for me right now."

On the day of my wedding to Elliot Wendell, a fake heiress committed suicide. In the second year of our marriage, we ended up enemies. He hated me, the true heiress, for returning and causing Celeste Dent’s death. I hated him for loving the woman who had taken my place as an heiress for twenty years. During the ten years of our marriage, we fought each other with vicious words and wished for the other to die. Then, there was an earthquake, and he shielded me beneath him. He protected me with his back. The building collapsed, and he ended up a mangled and bloody corpse. As he lay dying, he whispered into my ear, “If I had known that she would die, I would’ve never taken you home.” “If we ever meet again, it would be better if I were your only family.” In the end, I still died in the secondary quakes. When I opened my eyes again, I found that I had gone back in time. It was the day when he brought me to the Dent family to regain my rightful place among them. Elliot suddenly changed his mind and said, “Samantha, I was wrong. You’re not the daughter the Dent family lost twenty years ago.”

The newly hired genius programmer was a proud woman who always thought she could turn the entire industry on its head. When an investor tried to pressure her into drinking, she flipped the table and slapped him across the face. "My worth is in my programming skills, not my ability to network. Asking me to drink with you is an insult." Enraged, Clint Warner immediately withdrew the eighty-million investment agreement. He even swore he would never work with us again. As the Head of Product, I scrambled to apologize. The situation was only salvaged after I drank so much that I ended up hospitalized. … Later, I complained to the boss and demanded that he discipline the new hire. To my shock, he dismissed the matter. "If the employee causes any problem, it's because the supervisor failed in their duty. The promised million-dollar dividend bonus is cancelled. Take this as your warning." Fed up, I wrote down Mary Hansen's name on the Counseling-Out List. She couldn't care less. "I have abilities you’ll never match, unlike a scheming bootlicker like you. If anyone tries to go after me, the project will be halted. Don't come crying to me when everything collapses." I did not argue with her then. However, when the Counseling-Out List was announced, I found my own name on it. The boss claimed it was a mistake to force me to leave. Then he promoted Mary to my position and even granted her the authority of a vice president. "You were only great because of the company's support. Mary's not the same. She's young and truly talented. She’ll lead us to greater heights." With a cold smirk on my face, I made my way to our competitor, taking the crucial piece of our company's technology with me.

Three months after my fiancé disappeared, I saw him at the airport, his arm around a girl. He laughed smugly, "Thanks to my buddies, coming up with that plan. Otherwise, how would I get to spend every day with you? Won't go back until you're pregnant. Let that old ball-and-chain keep searching." I didn't rush over to confront him; I just watched them in complete silence. Back home, I wrapped my arms around his brother's neck and whispered bitterly, "Harry is gone, but your family needs an heir."

On the night of Halloween, my best friend, Mina Corvelle, rushes to save the black cat before me, triumph dancing in her eyes. That is when I, Elora Aldridge, realize that she has been reincarnated, too. In my past life, she scorned the stray for being filthy, so she kept her distance. So, it was I who took pity on the cat and rescued it. When I walked past an old blind woman manning a roadside stall, she told me that the cat was a rare dark fortune cat. Once it recognized a master, it would draw dark riches from all directions and bring unimaginable wealth. I dismissed it as superstition. Yet, the very next day, I was inexplicably promoted to director of the department. Soon after, my family's dilapidated old house found itself part of a redevelopment scheme, and we were given compensation of eight apartments and 30 million dollars in cash. Even the enigmatic golden boy of Lakeshire, Cassian Mercer, started to pursue me relentlessly, declaring that he would only marry me and no one else. But not long after I married Cassian, Mina trapped me—and the black cat—inside the apartment. She then set it on fire, burning us alive. Outside the inferno, she screamed, "Why should you get everything without even lifting a finger? All those riches should've been mine!" When I open my eyes again, I find myself back at the very intersection.

I accidentally hit my head in the shower. To my surprise, I find that I can hear my aloof housemate's thoughts. "Damn, he's got perky buns." I think of him as a regular housemate, but he wants to sleep with me?