Wear Sunscreen Baz Luhrmann

On the night I add my new girlfriend, Celia Spencer, into my group chat with my friends, my college roommate, Kevin Wright, suddenly posts more than a dozen screenshots in the group chat. Those screenshots feature the fragments of daily life I occasionally post on my social media feed. "Now here's where things get confusing. We only earn thousands of dollars per month. Where on earth did you get your money from in order to live such a lavish life? "I've been holding my tongue for far too long. At first, I intended to protect your pride. But now that you're dating such a wonderful, beautiful, and rich woman, I don't have the heart to see her getting lied to." In the end, Kevin tags Celia in the group chat. His words are filled with regret and pain. "Ms. Spencer, you're a rich scion, so you might not know anything about the bottom feeders' tactics. A fake scion like Luke who has racked up a huge online debt and brands his social media feed to look rich is very common in society! You have to keep your eyes open, you know! Take care not to get tricked by scammers!" As I suppress my anger, I respond with, "I never stole nor robbed from others! What's wrong with me spending my own money?" Kevin quickly retaliates with a lengthy audio message. "Your own money, you say? Your net worth isn't enough to afford even one segment of that luxury wristwatch in the photo! Why are you still pretending to be rich?" I just laugh in response. Does Kevin really think that rich people don't wear cheap stuff? What he doesn't know is that Celia, the so-called rich and beautiful woman he's trying so hard to kiss up to, is actually just someone I've hired to play the part. I'm the actual scion here, whereas Celia is just a fake heiress.

When my adopted sister, Alayna Ewing, hears that I'm with pup, she specifically gives me the body oil she's made. I accept it with a smile on my face. But later on, I smear the oil all over the belly of the old lady next door, who's diagnosed with a uterine tumor. After all, I have gotten reborn on this very day. In my past life, Alayna had formed a mate bond with Misael Finch, the Alpha of the Darkspire pack. She desperately needed to bear an heir for Alpha Misael in order to strengthen her position as the Luna. Unfortunately, her being an Omega meant that it'd be very difficult for her to conceive. So, she hatched a scheme against me, a newly pregnant she-wolf. Alayna bribed a dark sorcerer to cast a surrogate pregnancy curse on me. As long as I smelled something that she made, the pup in my womb would be transferred into her womb instantly. I spent entire pregnancies caring for my pup meticulously. I even endured the pain of countless shots in order to keep my pup safe. But whenever I was about to give birth, my pup would still end up disappearing. Alayna, on the other hand, gave birth to three heirs who inherited powerful bloodlines from their father. Thanks to that, her position as the Luna was greatly strengthened, and she got to live a lavish and comfortable life. In the end, Alayna had slandered me by claiming that I was overcome by lust during my pregnancy, so I ended up having passionate moments with Rogues. That was how I lost my pup every single time. With my reputation in tatters, I was exiled from the pack and forced to live the remainder of my days as a Rogue. In the end, I froze to death in winter. Now that I'm reborn, I shall grant Alayna her wish, seeing as she really wants an heir of her own. The healers have mentioned that it's their first time seeing such a huge uterine tumor, after all. Oh, I can't imagine what sort of expression Alayna will wear when she finds out that she's given birth to such a big tumor!

I fall in love with my father's friend, an Alpha 20 years my senior. I'm only eight when I first meet him. It happens at a banquet for the upper echelons of the werewolf pack. My father brings me with him. Layson Romanov instantly catches my eye. He stands tall at six feet and two inches, and his toned figure shows through his black suit. He exudes a natural dominance. My father introduces me to him, and he caresses my hair with a smile. Then, he gives me a pink dress adorned with pearls and pink diamonds. "You'll look beautiful when you're old enough to wear this." Back then, I didn't understand what he meant. … Ten years later, I put on that dress and enter his room. He's drugged after falling into someone's trap, and his wolf is out of control. His usually calm eyes are filled with mania. I know that he'll go insane—even lose his life—if he doesn't have an antidote. So, I give him my pure, untainted body. I become his antidote. We later marry, and he loves me as my father would've done. However, when I'm four months pregnant, I discover that his personal secretary, Grace Parker, is also pregnant. "I'm sorry to have put you through this, Grace. Everyone knows I only married Charlotte out of duty. I'll make sure our child is my only heir," he says. It all makes sense now—no wonder Layson refused to mark me despite us being married. Grace is the one he loves. I'm heartbroken. I ingest a large amount of wolfsbane, leading to a miscarriage. I ultimately die of blood loss. Intense regret washes over me as I breathe my last breath. When I open my eyes again, I find that I've been reborn. I'm taken back to the day Layson is drugged…

The Don of the Vito family, Damiano Vito, has broken his wedding vows by cheating on me with the daughter of the rival mafia family, Bianca Sorace, while I'm still pregnant with his heir. He ends up executing Bianca with his own hands in order to reassure me as well as provide my family, the Cappas, with a satisfactory answer. My parents advise me, "Now that Damiano has returned to your side, you mustn't kick up a fuss for the sake of both families' interests." But since then, I've developed an obsession over cleanliness. Any form of physical contact is capable of making me dry-heave out of discomfort. Since I can't take any medication at all, I can only spend my days venting my stress by demanding that everything be disinfected before touching me. Damiano, who's known for having a violent temperament, is willing to keep disinfecting himself repeatedly for my sake. If he needs to make physical contact with me, he'll wear gloves. Whenever he enters my room, he has to change into a biohazard suit. No matter how hot and stuffy it gets under the suit, he doesn't utter a word of complaint. "It's fine. I was the one who broke the wedding vows first, anyway." Finally, the moment I command Damiano to wash his hands yet again, he loses control of himself before me. He even goes so far as to shatter the ashtray right before my eyes. "That's enough! All I did was make the mistake every man is capable of making! Must you humiliate me to this degree? How does that make me a filthy man?" Damiano deliberately allows his subordinates, who are drenched in blood, to throw a party in the estate, thinking that it serves as a punishment for my obsession over cleanliness. He intends to force me to yield to him by threatening the baby in my belly. Thanks to the nonstop aggravation, I feel intense pain flaring from my abdomen. Soon, blood keeps oozing down my inner thighs beneath my skirt. But at the same time, I feel a sense of relief that I've never felt before. "Let's get a divorce, Damiano."

I gave up on my inheritance right during the time my love for Matteo Rossini ran the deepest. When I was about to leave, Papa looked at me before saying lightly, "I bet that you'll come home in three years." Back then, I didn't take his words to heart. After spending three years overcoming life's hurdles with Matteo, he finally becomes the Don of his family. On the day the inheritance party is to be held, I decide to wear a dress that I've treasured for a very long time but never had the heart to wear. But the moment I walk into the banquet hall, I see Matteo holding hands with a radiant young woman. She's Isabella Ginevra, a popular socialite in the elite society. Isabella flits among the guests charismatically, as though she were the lady of the house. She's capable of engaging in any conversational topic, be it finance strategies or channels to obtain firearms. I try to participate in a conversation, only for Isabella to cut me off with a titter. "I thought you've been spending the past few years being cooped up indoors. It turns out that you know a thing or two about these topics, huh?" Everyone around us falls silent for a brief moment. My expression freezes on my face. Then, I turn to look at Matteo subconsciously. But he doesn't even bother looking my way. Instead, he merely says softly, "We're talking business here, Bianca. You should sit with the other ladies." I clench my fists instantly. But in the end, I opt to not say anything and just walk away. Through the throngs of the guests, I can see Matteo and Isabella chatting animatedly with each other in low tones. For once, Matteo looks relaxed and at ease—an expression that I haven't seen for a long time. Suddenly, I hear a guest remarking, "If someone like Ms. Ginevra were to become the Donna, she'd be of great help to the Don." A chorus of agreements ring out around him. Matteo just smiles in return, though he doesn't deny that remark. In fact, he even toasts to Isabella and drinks to her in front of everyone. That's when I draw to my feet and walk over to snatch the glass out of his hand. "I think so too. In that case, she can have the position as the Donna, then."

I've been married to Salvatore Falcone for seven years. He's a mafia Don who drills raw terror into everyone's minds. While I'm the Donna whom he has announced to the world, in truth, I'm just a mistress who serves as his human shield that can warm his bed on the side. Salvatore has betrayed me countless times over the past seven years. The first betrayal occurred when he took my ring off on our first wedding anniversary and gave it to one of the escorts in the clubhouse on a whim. The second betrayal occurred when I collapsed in the kitchen out of exhaustion. Instead of saving me, Salvatore blamed me for not preparing the hangover tonic for him in time, so he had someone dump iced water onto me to wake me up. The third betrayal occurred when I suffered from massive bleeding when I was five months pregnant. When I begged Salvatore to go to the hospital with me, he told me that he was keeping Valentina Caruso, his childhood sweetheart, company while her cat was getting fixed. For 2500 days, I swallowed all of my grievances, agony, and tears. Last night, at the banquet of our seventh wedding anniversary, Salvatore had taken Valentina's hand and sat her down on the Donna's throne that was meant to be mine. At that moment, everyone looked forward to seeing me humiliate myself. This was the 101st time he betrayed me. After the banquet was over, Salvatore didn't even bother looking me in the eye. He just said icily, "Don't forget that you're only a mistress to me despite our marriage." At the crack of dawn, Salvatore wakes up with a hangover. He tosses his soiled shirt at me out of habit. "Wash this shirt immediately. I'm going to wear it tonight." As I gaze at him, I caress my belly, which is slightly swollen. "Sorry, Mr. Falcone. This is no longer my duty." Salvatore most likely has forgotten that we've signed a contract when we first got married. The clause states that we will get divorced seven years later. Today is the third day before our contract comes to an end. I toss the marriage certificate and the pregnancy report into the shredder on the spot. In three days, my unborn baby and I will disappear from Salvatore's world permanently. This time, I will never look back.