Suspense In Story

Albert Meyer, a former fixer of a large underground crime syndicate, wants his name cleared from the roster. He can achieve it on the condition that he has to do one last job for his foster father. He contemplates the choices he has to make and it was going well—until someone dies on his watch. Now he has to make sure no more deaths occur as he tries to choose between his emotions or duty—even as an incoming Wedding threatens to put his mind into discomposure.

I didn't kill my asshole ex-boyfriend. I knew I might've said I would countless times in the text I sent before we broke up, and I wasn't the calmest person. But I really didn't kill him. I, however, am the number one and only suspect of his murder since to everyone else he was a sAiNt. But hey, let's not talk ill of the dead. The point is, I was stuck at the station being questioned about something I didn't do. And I thought it was the worst thing that could've possibly happened to me. That is, until I set eyes on the detective of the case. I may just play along for a while. See where this thing goes....

Anastasia Collins has always been a fanatic of mystery novels since forever. Solving cases, codes, crimes, riddles–heck, she even joked sometimes that maybe she's a detective on her past life. Contrary from that, her real job is far too different because she's actually a registered nurse. But atleast, both job has a similarities right? Giving a helping hand to the people who are in need for their services. That idea alone–can already make her feel contented of what she has in her life right now. Not until one day, on her way to the hospital, a car accident happened. *** Imagine, you thought that you died and already asked for forgiveness for your sins but then you found yourself on an absurb place and realize soon after that you were transmigrated inside your favorite mystery novel book. Sound like a joke right? But unfortunately, its real. And here's the catch. You were transmigrated as the murderer or what she used to called the 'evil-villain' of the story. Sounds fun right?

Veronica was a rich city girl until her parents forced her to live in a town close to the edge of the Lagos city boarder after a mental episode. There she met Grace, a fellow high school girl in dire search of some excitement before graduation. Grace saw Veronica as means of getting that excitement. Little did she know that it would pull her and her friends into a world filled secrets and horror. Secrets would be revealed, some would be buried and friendships would be tested as they try to navigate their new life, one case at a time!

With the death of the werewolf, Professor Ericson, his best friend and Wizard, Francis, and Golden Lake University's Vice Chancellor, Dr. Giovanni, during the ‘Vestige of the Aptest’ contest, Harold Girard and his friends anticipated a regular and ordinary new session awaiting them. Unluckily, a day into the new session, they noticed they're being shadowed by two strange and extremely queer individuals. Not wanting troubles for themselves, they behaved as naturally as they could manage. For a few weeks, they were able to keep up with the stalkers but when Golden Lake's very own sport is introduced and gets underway, things instantly get out of hands and the trio get tossed into a mess perhaps, hotter than they could handle.

While preparing for the SATs at the library, my brother is accidentally shot and injured, causing him to bleed profusely. I pass by this scene but turn a blind eye and quicken my pace to leave. This is because in my previous life, when I saw him, I rushed him to the hospital in a panic. He had intracranial hemorrhaging, and he urgently needed surgery. I quickly called my mom, the top neurosurgeon in the city, begging her to come to the hospital as soon as possible. However, she thought I was jealous that she had taken my adopted sister to the beach instead of spending time with me. She also believed I had fabricated the story about my brother's injury, and thus refused to return. By the time my dad and the rest of the family hurried to the hospital, it was too late for rescue efforts—my brother had passed away. The whole family blamed me for his death. They were convinced that I had deliberately misled my mom and delayed his critical treatment. When my mom returned from out of town, she lost her composure and pushed me down the stairs, watching coldly as I bled to death. After opening my eyes again, I had returned to the day my brother was shot at the library.

On the day we receive our bonus, one of the staff members of the finance department gives me 500 dollars worth of vouchers for the fast food restaurant downstairs. He tells me that my wife, Jillian Dunn, who is also the company's president, specifically ordered him to do so. In utter disbelief, I seek out Jillian and question her. "Didn't we agree that whoever secures the project will get a 50,000-dollar bonus? Stop messing around! I still need to pay for Freya's cochlear implant!" "I'm not messing around with you," Jillian answers seriously. "These vouchers can last you for a whole month. I wouldn't even give them to you if you were anyone else. "Money is tight right now at the company. Besides, Freya has been deaf for more than a decade now. She can survive being deaf for another decade." The next day, Jillian gives one of the interns a sports car that's worth 50,000 dollars. I look at the photo she uploads of her and the intern grinning widely as they sit in the car and give it a like. Jillian must assume that everything is proceeding smoothly since she has signed the contract. However, she misses the additional condition that's printed on the last page of the contract. I dial her rival's number, asking, "Ms. Swan, are you interested in Project Charlie?"

Five years after our breakup, I saw my ex-fiancé, Nico Luciano, showing off his newborn on social media. The next day, he cornered me at a private club and slid a black card across the table. “Lena, Sophia finally had a boy, the heir to the Luciano family. Now I can marry you.” He tried to soften his tone. “Having been widowed to my late brother for five years, she just wanted a child to care for her. I had no choice after the first two were girls. “Thank you for waiting these extra two years. The wedding is set for next Monday, and the invitations are ready.” What he didn’t know was that I was already married. I am now the lawful wife of Vincent Moretti, the don of the North Alumcian Mafia Commission, and a core decision-maker of the Moretti family’s financial empire. Watching Nico’s confident smile, I sent a message to my underboss. “Notify the elders of the five major mafia families. Next Monday, I’m removing the Luciano family from power.” Then I looked up and smiled at him. “Marry me? Save your own career first.”

My son was caught in a car accident. My husband said that without a cornea donor, he would be trapped in darkness forever. Heartbroken, I let him sweet-talk me into signing away my corneas. Blind, I overheard my son gloating, "Dad, the plan worked. Mom fell for it, and Rachel's got her sight back. She won't be miserable anymore." "Yeah, now we're a real family with her," replied my husband. The truth gutted me. They'd played me like a fool to save my husband's old flame. When I confronted them, Rachel Huffman shoved me down a staircase, and I died in agony. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of my son's car accident.

In my previous life, everything I do to care for myself somehow ends up benefiting my new housekeeper instead. I apply expensive skincare, yet dark spots and fine lines spread across my face, whereas the 45-year-old housekeeper's face becomes silkier. I jog every morning, yet my body only grows heavier and bulkier, while hers becomes slender and toned. When my husband notices the stretch marks on my abdomen, his face twists with disgust, and he never touches me again. "I genuinely can't bring myself to touch you. How can you look worse than Mirabelle when you take such good care of yourself?" My housekeeper looks at me with a sinister smile. A chill crawls up my spine, and the strange feeling makes me fire her on the spot. Yet, as soon as she leaves, I start aging at lightning speed, entering menopause 20 years early and developing diabetes and high blood pressure. I see every doctor I can, but after hanging on for a week, I die from a stroke. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day she first reports to work. This time, I push away the royal jelly she sets in front of me with a pleasant smile. "I've been avoiding certain foods lately. You can have it instead."