Unscramble Heiress

The second Zoe reset her life and landed back at the Elite Match Gala, she swapped her token with her half-sister's. No hesitation. Because in her previous life, Connor had married Zoe, but she had died helpless and unloved. It was only on her deathbed that Zoe finally knowed the truth: Connor had loved her sister all along. Now, Connor grabbed the bouquet meant for Vicky, eyes lighting up."Vicky, you're it for me. My one and only." Then he turned to Zoe—and the warmth vanished. "Zoe, you've always been like a little sister to me. Don't even think about stepping into Vicky's place." That hit like a slap. Cold, sharp, humiliating. Everyone thought she was pathetic. But this time, Zoe wouldn’t beg for his love. She would bless them instead—marry the man her father had chosen for her, and never look back.

Caleb Smith's best friend, Kevin Baker, calls me in a panic and tells me that Caleb has been in a terrible racing accident. Without a second thought, I rush to the hospital and donate two pints of blood to save him. As I walk past a hospital room, I freeze. There's Caleb—standing perfectly healthy beside a hospital bed. Kevin throws his head back and howls with laughter. "It's April Fools' Day. We actually managed to trick Winnie Jewel into donating two pints of blood. Too bad that it's useless, though. We might as well feed it to the stray dogs." Vivian Jewel, lying in a hospital bed, looks up at Caleb. "Caleb, don't you think that's a bit much?" A fond smile curves Caleb's lips as he replies, "I can't help it. Where does Winnie get the nerve to take your place? She should have stayed in the orphanage, but since she forced her way back into the Jewel family, she can't blame us for taking your side." Kevin jumps in eagerly. "This year marks the eighth year since she returned to the Jewel family, and the eighth year we've been pranking her." Their undisguised mockery spills out of the room. I pull out my phone and contact my aunt, Gianna Jewel. "Aunt Gianna, I’ve decided. Let's leave the country."

I was the real daughter—unloved, unwanted, and cast aside. The design draft I poured my heart into was stolen by my second brother and gifted to the fake daughter. Then he accused me of being a plagiarist. My father, the richest man in the city, had me blacklisted from the entire industry. The fake daughter pretended to apologize, then pushed me off a cliff. When I woke up, nearly all my bones had been shattered. I called my fiancé, the captain of the rescue team, but he was cradling the fake daughter's sprained ankle. He scoffed, "Oh, you had an accident too? Want me to save you? Why don't you just die already?" My body grew colder under the crushing pain. My eldest brother, the forensic pathologist, cut open my rotting corpse while grumbling that he was late for the fake daughter's birthday. Yet when they finally saw me again, they all cried, begging for my forgiveness.

My adoptive parents' long-lost daughter came back. She's a wellness influencer. She eats from crystal bowls she "cleansed." Sleeps with a white noise machine. She will only ride in a custom, climate-controlled car. That's not all. She filled our family's Manhattan law firm with Himalayan salt lamps and energy crystals. The espresso in the conference room? Replaced with gluten-free, organic dandelion root tea. "The energy here is so murky," she'd say. "We need to cleanse the world with love and light!" My guilt-ridden parents gave her everything she wanted. Even my fiancé told me, "Ava, you stole twenty years of her Upper East Side life. Can't you cut her some slack?" The day of the final hearing for our firm's biggest case, the entire court had to wait for her to finish her "emotional cleansing meditation." The judge was furious. I stood up. Delivered a flawless closing argument. I won our client $500 million and secured the future of the firm. But at the party, she had a drunken breakdown, fell into the pool, and drowned. My parents and my fiancé blamed me for everything. "You always have to win, don't you? It was a simple, open-and-shut case. You couldn't even let her have that?" They had me committed to a psychiatric hospital. They destroyed my law license and my reputation. They even had me injected with a fatal overdose of sedatives. I died full of hate. The next time I opened my eyes, I was back. Back to the day she was crying on her Instagram Live, begging for the case. This time, I walked straight into our rival's law firm. This "sure-win" case? I'm going to make you lose everything.

Ikakasal na ang pinakapopular na babae sa amin noong high school. Inimbitahan niya ang lahat sa aming klase para sa kaniyang kasal. Gusto kong kumilos na parang hindi ko nakita ang message na ipinadala niya sa akin pero walang tigil niya akong tinag sa group chat. “Nagkunwari kang mayaman gaya ko noong high school, pero hindi kita masisisi sa ginawa mo. Sa totoo lang, iniimbitahan kita sa kasal ko bukas para makita mo kung paano maging isang tunay na mayaman.” Agad na nagsalita ang iba naming mga kaklase. “Napakabait mo talaga, Haley. Kaya hindi na ako magtataka kung paano mo nagawang pakasalan ang isang miyembro ng pamilya Baumer. Hindi ako makapaniwala na mapapatawad mo ang isang materialistic na kagaya ni Emma!” “Ano ba ang deserve ng isang kagaya ni Emma Larkin para makaattend sa kasal ni Haley? Masyado siyang mayabang.” Habang tumitindi ang mga pangiinsulto, umabante si Haley Stockwell para mapanatili ang kapayapaan sa chat. “Sige na, kalimutan na natin ang mga hindi maganda nating nakaraan. Hindi na ako naaapektuhan sa mga ito dahil masyado nang matagal mula noong mangyari ang mga iyon. Anyway, huwag na tayong maghinanakit kay Emma dahil masyado na itong mahirap at pangit.” Walang tigil na umulan ang mga papuri sa kaniya ng lahat sa group chat habang tinatawag siya ng ilan sa amin na mabait at inosente. Napasinghal ako sa aking nakita. Si Haley ang babaeng nagkukunwaring mayaman sa amin—ako ang tunay na tagapagmana ng isang mayamang pamilya pero pinalabas pa rin niya na sinungaling ako. Ginawa niya akong target ng mga pangiinsulto ng lahat. Tiningnan ko ang digital wedding invitation para makitang gaganapin sa aking villa ang kaniyang kasal. Mukha ring pamilyar ang kaniyang groom—hindi ba’t ito ang driver ng aking asawa? Ngumiti ako nang maisip ko ang mangyayari. Sumagot ako sa chat ng, “Sige! Kailangan kong umattend ng kasal mo!”

I gave birth to my son prematurely on a train, and my fiance sold both of us off to go live with my parents’ real daughter. After I reincarnated, I watched my parents find their real daughter again, and I could not stop my tears as well as laughter. Not only did I personally get my fiance drunk, I sent him my sister’s way, and he got her pregnant. I tied up the person I hated the most in the train carriage. The station ahead was the one where I got trapped in a small village for the entirety of my last life. In this life, it was going to be her turn. Her and her child’s!

A century ago, the head of the powerful Gilbert family in the capital made a cruel remark: "A woman who can't bear sons is nothing but a hen that lays no eggs." His words provoked forces beyond his understanding, and brought a generational curse upon his bloodline. Since then, every Gilbert man has faced the same fate: on his 30th birthday, he begins to grow feathers and wings... until he fully transforms into a clucking, egg-laying hen. The only way to break the curse? Marry a girl born on a rare, fated date, the Cursebreaker. Both my sister, Ruby Larson, and I were born under that date. In my previous life, Sean Gilbert, the cursed heir to the Gilbert fortune, asked for Ruby's hand in marriage. To protect her, I took her place and married into the Gilbert family myself. However, Ruby thought I had betrayed her for money. She livestreamed her suicide. Sean never forgave me. From that day on, he despised me with everything he had.

My neighbor's daughter is sick, and my mother forces me to donate a kidney to her. I've been malnourished since childhood—just drawing blood is enough to cost me my life. However, my mother says, "What does your death matter to me? Rhea is my actual daughter!" Only then do I learn that my mother switched me and our wealthy next-door neighbor's daughter at birth! I glance at my neighbor's daughter, but she's calm and unaffected. I watch as my mother signs the consent form for the operation. My father ties me to the operating table, and my brother performs the surgery. I have no strength to retaliate, so I make one last request—a DNA test with my mother. She agrees—she wants me to stop holding out hope. Later, I forget everything after the surgery, but she breaks down.

"You're no daughter of this pack," my mother hissed, her golden eyes flashing in the firelight. "If you can't support your Alpha sister, then get out." I should have seen it coming. In the Ashveil Pack, family means everything—unless you're me. Vera Darkthorne, the disappointment. While my perfect sister Eris got the love, the title, even my mate Cain, I got a mating ceremony where nobody showed up. Not even the man who swore he'd always be mine. That night, I ran. Now I've built a new life in Berlin's underground werewolf syndicate, where strength is the only law that matters. I've learned to fight, to lead, to make wolves twice my size back down with just a look. But when a message comes that Eris's dying, the pack demands my return. "Come home, Vera," my father's voice crackles through the phone. "Your sister needs you." I almost laugh. After everything? But this time, I'm not the weak wolf they left behind. This time, I have fangs of my own. And when wolves hunt you down, you don't run—you rip their throats out first.

I'm dying at seven months pregnant, and the one behind it is my husband. Hearing that a premature baby's blood can save my sister, he conspires with a shady clinic to take the baby out through surgery. After draining the baby's blood, he walks away—leaving my fragile preemie to die. Later, my parents say, "You owe Yvie. It's time to repay her." My husband says, "We can always have another child. A baby's life can't possibly be more important than Yvie's, can it? The overwhelming rage and grief cause me to bleed to death. My soul floats above them as I watch them prepare my sister's surgery. They don't even bother to change me into clean clothes. No one mourns me. No one loses their mind over my death. Without a care, they wheel me into the morgue and celebrate Yvonne's recovery. When I open my eyes again, I've gone back three months earlier—to the day my whole family forced me to divorce.