Wealthy Writers

Kehidupan yang lalu tak lain dan tak bukan adalah sebuah candaan. Aku diperalat dan dibuang begitu saja setelah tidak berguna. Bagaimana mungkin aku bisa begitu bodoh tidak menyadarinya? Beruntung, aku mempunyai kesempatan kedua dengan kelahiranku kembali. Kakak, kakak Yi, dan siapapun yang telah memperlakukan aku dengan begitu buruk di kehidupan sebelumnya, apakah kalian sudah siap dengan pembalasan dendamku?

Albert Roosevelt was the crush I was never meant to have. Like an idiot, I believed loving someone meant giving them everything, even if they didn't care about you. So, I trailed after him like a desperate puppy, bending over backward to meet his every whim. When he couldn't afford tuition, I begged Dad to fund him, sending him to the best schools. When his worn-out clothes made him a laughingstock, I pitied him and showered him with designer labels. And what did he do? He used what I gave him to chase after a gold-digging campus belle. To keep up appearances, he blew through money like it grew on trees. He even spread rumors that he was the real heir to the Roosevelts. To him, I was just an ATM. "Your family's loaded. It's not like you'll miss a few hundred grand. If you're gonna be stingy, maybe you should stop following me around," he said when his wallet ran dry. And like a fool, I believed that if I kept paying, someday, he'd love me back. After graduation, I funded his startup. The second it took off, he married the campus belle. He had the nerve to claim he earned everything through nothing but hard work. So, I crashed his wedding, and he buried a knife in my chest. "Only when you're dead, Eve Roosevelt. Only then will my pathetic past stay buried." When I opened my eyes again, I was face-to-face with a scowling Albert. "You can't scrape together a few hundred thousand dollars? It's Bianca's birthday. Are you trying to humiliate me?" I looked around the room and rolled my eyes. "Sure, I'll pay. But first? Kneel. You look pretty enough. Consider it charity, peasant."

After the plane crash, my body was never recovered. My soul drifted back to the home I hadn't stepped foot in for five years. They didn't know I was dead. They were still waiting for me to come home for Christmas. When my mom got the call from the airline, she froze for a long time, completely at a loss, before breaking down in tears. I followed them as they went to the memorial crash site. That was when I noticed something strange—I could see their levels of regret hovering above their heads. My brother's regret level read: 40%. My father's showed: 60%. Even my sister-in-law had 30% over her head. But my mother's regret level? It flashed a cold, unchanging 0%.

I loved Clara deeply. When she was in danger, I didn't hesitate to save her, even at the cost of my own life. The incident left both my legs broken and confined me to a wheelchair, but she promised we'd marry once she passed her medical boards. To help her focus on her studies, I worked tirelessly, wheeling myself around day and night to make ends meet. But behind my back, she rekindled her relationship with Caleb Carter, her childhood sweetheart. One day, I found her in his arms, laughing and happy. I confronted her, demanding to know why she'd betrayed me. She responded by shoving me to the ground, treating me like I was worthless. Then she pulled a scalpel from her medical bag, her hands steady as she held it over my chest. "Caleb needs a heart transplant to live," she said. "Please, help me one last time."

I asked my husband for a divorce during the most difficult year of his life. Everyone condemned me, calling me heartless, but I still forced him to sign the divorce papers. Later, he overcame his struggles and rose to become a powerful CEO. I avoided him for two years, believing I’d never cross paths with him again—until he caught me at my most wretched. His eyes brimmed with hatred as he stared at me. In front of everyone, he humiliated me and relentlessly forced me to down a bottle of vodka. I vomited uncontrollably, blood gushing from my mouth in thick streams. He mocked me, telling me it was the retribution I deserved for betraying him. I didn’t argue. I let him torment me. After all, I was already dying. If that made him content, so be it.

"Dr. Shaw! Ms. Sherwood has suffered a massive hemorrhage due to complications from childbirth! She has fallen into a coma and needs an emergency blood transfusion!" "Dr. Shaw! Ms. Lunsford is vomiting from anemia! She needs a blood transfusion immediately!" "Dr. Shaw! The blood bank just declared an emergency! We only have enough blood to save one of the patients right now!" Eugene Shaw stares broodingly at the pale and motionless Lilian Sherwood. Slowly, his hands clench into fists. "Stop all treatment for Ms. Sherwood! Have all the remaining blood in the blood bank transfused to Aurelie!" Lilian curls up in pain. Her mind is blank, but she hangs on to Eugene's every word. She hears him choose Aurelie Lunsford. Her pupils suddenly dilate as the doctor next to her sobs anxiously. "But Dr. Shaw, Ms. Sherwood's condition is more critical than Ms. Lunsford's! She should be your priority, especially since she's carrying your child!" Eugene turns, eyes slightly bloodshot, "She's a medical professional! Saving lives is her duty. I believe she would've made the same choice." Lilian is in disbelief. Tears spill from her eyes, bitter and mocking. Eugene makes his selfishness sound so noble. She regrets everything. If given another chance, she will definitely leave him at all costs! She draws her last despairing breath, and her hand droops limply. Eugene kneels before her hospital bed in panic, tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Lilian. I have no choice but to save her!"

"Please, stop pushing. I can't take this anymore." The concert venue is packed tight. A man behind me keeps pressing into my backside. I'm wearing a mini skirt today with a thong underneath, and it only makes the situation worse. He lifts my skirt and presses himself against my hips. As the atmosphere heats up, someone in front of me slams into me, and I stumble back a step. My body stiffens as I feel like something just slid inside me.

"Mr. Woods, what's that thing pressing against me?" I was teaching a freshman girl how to drive at a driving school. I never expected that this innocent-looking but boldly dressed underclassman would actually ask to sit on my lap and have me teach her hands-on. On the way, I held back my urge and forced myself to focus on teaching as I deliberately ignored her brushing against me. But then she released the clutch too quickly, and the car suddenly stalled and shook violently. She fell heavily between my legs, and I could feel myself pressing against her core. She was only wearing a short skirt, with thin underwear underneath.

Isabella Harrods is a young journalist who meets Terrence Langston, the CEO of Langston's jewelry and the son of the most notorious mafia lord, who was assassinated by his own son, Terrence. Following their meeting, a serial killer imitating Terrence's father's killing pattern emerges, triggering Terrence's PTSD. Even though there is a serial killer on the loose, their hate-to-love relationship blossoms. Terrence forces her to sign a blood contract stating that only death can keep them apart. As the murder rate and Terrence's recurring PTSD skyrocket, Isabella decides to track down the perpetrator. Having sealed a blood deal with him, what happens when she walks in on him while carrying a severed human head?

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