Da Lanlan

I woke up in a hotel suite, still in my tuxedo, on my wedding day, October 12th, 2014. My fiancée, Sarah Jenkins, stood before me, her face pale, telling me to get out. The jarring part was that in my memory, Sarah was dead. She had died ten years later, throwing herself in front of me during a car crash, her last words a plea for me to "live well." This was our wedding day, ten years in the past, a second chance. I knew why I was here. I had spent a decade consumed by regret, forcing Sarah into a loveless marriage for a business deal. I later discovered her diary, filled with her true love for Mark Johnson, something she never had for me. After her death, I yearned to undo my mistakes. A locket, sold to me by a strange old man, promised a way to fix a great regret. Now, I was back. The voice from the locket echoed in my mind, "Her death is a fixed point. Unless her three great regrets are undone, the end will remain the same." I knew those regrets: not fighting for Mark, giving up her music, and Mark's car accident, which had happened a year into our miserable marriage. To start, I crossed my name off the marriage certificate and wrote Mark Johnson's in its place. Sarah's call came shortly after: Mark was in an accident. My blood ran cold, she accused me, "This is your fault! You did this!" She demanded I fix it because his rare blood type matched mine. Bleeding myself dry for her, I watched Sarah's rage turn to tearful accusation, "You did this, Ethan! So you're going to fix it!" I thought she understood my sacrifice for her and Mark's happiness. But as I collapsed from donating double the amount of blood, she screamed, "Cutting his brake lines... Ethan, that was monstrous!" She believed I was the one who sabotaged Mark's car. I had tried to save her, but instead, I became the villain. I chose to disappear from her life. The locket's work was done; I had erased her regrets. Now, only my own new life remained.

The gallery shimmered with color, a vibrant tribute to my son Leo's first year, his framed finger paintings and tiny plaster casts proudly displayed. My art, my life, my world. Today, I was a proud mother and a celebrated artist. Then the gallery door creaked open, and a cold draft swept in with Brenda, my husband' s sister, her eyes already searching for fault lines. "An entire party for a one-year-old? A little much, don' t you think, Sarah? Most people just do a cake and some balloons." The words cut, but the real sting came when she implied my "art" was just a desperate attempt to contribute financially. Mark, my husband, stood beside me, silent, his arm tightening in a gesture of restraint, not defense. The room grew heavy with unspoken judgment, our friends shifting in discomfort. Brenda, reveling in the awkwardness, then whispered loud enough for me to hear, insulting my post-baby body. My throat tightened, and I fought back tears. This was supposed to be a moment of joy, yet here I was, wounded again by someone who delighted in tearing me down. Later, as "Happy Birthday" filled the air, and Leo' s candle flickered, Brenda' s voice sliced through the sweetness: "I wish he grows up to look a little more like Mark. Right now, with that hair, he could be mistaken for the mailman' s kid." The insinuation was vile, stripping any innocence from the day. Something inside me snapped. "Get out," I said, my voice shaking with a rage I hadn' t known I possessed. But when Brenda feigned tears, my husband, Mark, sided with her. "Sarah, that' s enough," he said, his voice cold. "You are making a scene. Apologize to my sister right now." Apologize? His words hit me harder than any slap. He didn' t defend me; he condemned me. He chose his toxic sister over his family, over me. Was this the man I married? The father of my child? My marriage, my sense of security, crumbled into a lie. My pain didn' t matter; my dignity didn' t matter. Only keeping the peace with Brenda mattered, at my expense. As Linda, my gallery-owner friend, began politely ushering guests out, a horrifying clarity washed over me. I couldn't live a life where I always came second. I had to choose myself. I had to choose my son. The battle for my voice, my boundaries, and my future had just begun.

A dull ache throbbed at the back of my head. I woke up in a stark white hospital room, not knowing where I was, or even who I was. Then they came-my adoptive parents, my wife Olivia, and my brother Liam. Instead of concern, their faces were etched with annoyance. They called me Ethan, but the name felt foreign. They spoke about me as if I were furniture, criticizing my "stunts" and how I always sought attention. Olivia, stunning and cold, entered, her eyes reflecting deep dislike. Liam softened instantly for her. Then Olivia spoke, revealing a devastating truth: "The CEO of Reed Tech' s husband tried to kill himself again. It' s humiliating." Worse, whispers from the hallway confirmed it: "She' s in love with his brother." I was married to a woman who despised me, living a pathetic life in a favored brother' s shadow. It was a life of begging for love that was never given. Panic started to build, but then a strange calm washed over me. The amnesia wasn' t a curse; it was a mercy. It was a blank slate, a chance to escape a prison I didn' t remember entering. They thought I was the same weak, desperate Ethan. They were wrong. I wasn't him anymore. I was no one. And I could become anyone. I made a decision, right there in that sterile room, surrounded by people who wished I didn't exist. I would grant them their wish. I reached for the phone. I didn' t call a friend. I called a lawyer. "I need to file for divorce," I said, my voice steady. "And I want to discuss severing ties with my adoptive family." A new chapter was about to begin.

The cold screen of my phone cast a harsh glow on Olivia' s smug, made-up face-my art school rival-her latest post a candid, unflattering photo of me. Then, I saw the caption: "Some people will do anything for money. Here's Scarlet, a little fuller these days. Wonder if she finally landed a big fish. Or maybe it' s just a little goldfish she' s carrying?" The comments exploded, branding me a gold-digger, a woman using a baby to trap a man. Nausea churned in my stomach, not just morning sickness, but pure panic. Just as the world narrowed to the poison spreading online, a new notification flashed: a press release from the Sterling Corporation. My heart pounded as I clicked, expecting another blow. Instead, it was an announcement from the notoriously reclusive tech mogul, Liam Sterling: he confirmed he was the father of my unborn child and vowed legal action against any defamation. The world tilted. Liam Sterling? The legendary, untouchable genius from college? It was impossible. I had never even spoken to him. How could he be the father of a child conceived in a transaction with a nameless stranger in a dimly lit hotel room-a desperate mistake made to save my dying grandmother? It made no sense. The public shaming felt insignificant now, overshadowed by a terrifying reality: my quiet, desperate life had just collided with a world of unimaginable power. I was trapped, a pawn in a game I didn' t understand. I had signed a contract for survival, and now I was paying the ultimate price.

The Boston Real Estate Awards gala was meant to be a triumph – a celebration of my hard-earned success as lead architect for a foundation rebuilding the city, a life I painstakingly built after leaving behind a toxic past. But then, across the glittering ballroom, I saw them: Matthew, my ex-fiancé, and Sabrina, my stepsister, his heavily pregnant wife, the golden couple whose lies once orchestrated my death and the loss of my unborn child. They spun their familiar, perfected tale to a reporter: my "public breakdown" in Vegas, the "male escorts," the "maxed-out credit cards" – a fabrication designed to paint me as unhinged, justifying why "our family had no choice but to cut her off." My heart pounded with a cold, familiar dread; this was the narrative that destroyed my first life, costing me everything, even before Matthew' s truck "accidentally" ran me off the road for my inheritance. But this time, when they sneered, offering me a job cleaning construction sites, mocking my presumed destitution, a calm resolve settled over me; my second chance wasn't about vengeance, but about finally living free.

Oakhaven, Vermont, lives by a chilling prophecy: my deaf-mute mother, Martha, will speak only three times, her words bearing immense, unsettling weight. For years, she was just a quiet enigma, her silence another local quirk. Then, the unwritten rule shattered. My father died mysteriously after her first whispered "utterance." Five years later, just before my wedding, Martha whispered to my fiancé, Michael, and he barely escaped death in a bizarre "sleepwalking accident." Oakhaven erupted, screaming "Silent Curse." Reporters swarmed, turning our private grief into public spectacle. My mother retreated into an impenetrable silence, leaving me isolated, my world crumbling under the supposed curse. But I knew better. Dad never sleepwalked. Michael remembered nothing. My mother, though silent, harbored no malice. The official stories felt like flimsy lies. What truly happened? What did her "prophecies" really mean? Then, her desperate voice reached me: "Sarah... Pastor Thorne... He knows... Don't trust... the water... He...!" The line went dead. I found her, a suicide note and pills. But I knew. This wasn't a curse. This was a warning. And I would uncover the killer.

My beloved grandfather's "routine" surgery didn't just end in death; it unveiled a nightmare. Then I found it: "MD <3 VA"—Mark Davidson and Victoria Ainsworth—carved into his liver, a sickening love note from my own husband and the surgeon who had killed him. Mark, the Chief Medical Examiner, covered up her crime, then publicly sided with Victoria's powerful, elite family in court, systematically discrediting and financially ruining me. I lost everything: my home, my reputation, my hope, even enduring a brutal beating from their thugs. The horror escalated when Victoria, in cold blood, murdered my bedridden mother, then gloated, revealing Mark's decades-old betrayal that had also led to my father's death. How could the man I loved for so long be complicit in such monstrous evils, betraying my entire family, leaving me broken, destitute, and utterly alone? But in my deepest despair, a hidden letter from my mother surfaced, revealing a single, impossible name: my long-lost uncle, a highly influential U.S. General. The monumental fight for justice, finally, was on.

After being framed of a crime he didn't commit, his heart was filled with hatred. Angered and betrayed, he completely disappeared in her world without a trace. She thought she could finally move on with her life with him out of her life—or so she thought. On her wedding day, he suddenly reappeared like a devil walking out from hell. He broke in recklessly and ruined her once peaceful life. Once the truth is unveiled, could she welcome him back into his life?

Once the cherished heiress of the Douglas family, she lost everything when her parents were brutally murdered and she was framed by her own blood. Labeled a criminal, she was cast into prison with no one to trust and nothing to her name. Six years later, she returns-not as a broken woman, but as the Scarlet Valkyrie, the deadliest warrior in all of Juzora. Her aim is flawless, her signature weapon Manjusaka strikes without mercy, and her name alone sends tremors through the underworld. With one hand, she saves her ailing grandmother with the precision of a master healer. With the other, she takes down Draco City's most ruthless criminals. But her true purpose is vengeance. Every debt owed, every wound inflicted, every lie told-she will settle them all, with interest. The war goddess has returned. And the ones who wronged her are about to learn what it means to face the wrath of a legend.

Emberly, an esteemed scientist of the Imperial Federation, took her own life after completing important research. She was reborn, and just like in her first life, she was born into a wealthy family. She could’ve lived a carefree and prosperous life. However, the babies got mixed up in the hospital and she was taken home by another family from the countryside. Her foster parents later found out the truth and brought her to her real family, but they didn’t like her. Her evil adopted sister even loathed her. She was framed and ultimately, she died in prison. But in her next life, she refused to stay a coward and swore she would take revenge on all who wronged her. She would only care about those who were truly good to her and turn a blind eye to her heartless family. In one life, she had once experienced darkness and been trampled upon like an ant. In another, she had stood on top of the world. This time, she only wished to live for herself. As if a switch had gone on inside of her, she suddenly became the best at everything she put her mind to. He won the math contest, topped the college entrance exams, and solved an age old question... Later, she garnered countless scientific research achievements. People who had once slandered her and looked down on her cried bitterly and begged her for a patent authorization. She just sneered at them. No way! This was a world without faith, but the world put their faith in her. Austin, the heir to a powerful aristocratic family in the imperial capital, was cold-hearted and decisive. He scared anyone who laid eyes on him. Unbeknownst to everyone, he doted on one woman: Emberly. Nobody knew that his desire for her grew stronger with every passing day. She brought light to his originally dull and gloomy life.

Being stimulated by three overly attractive vampires was the last thing I had ever imagined. "Oh Jasmine, this is a sight to behold," Archer murmured,landing kisses all along my inner thighs. Lucien broke the kiss, I could see the lust in his eyes. Micheal took the turn to kiss me once I caught my breath and Lucien's fingers moved to spread my labia only for me to feel the unexpected lick of Archer's tongue on my clit. My eyes rolled to the back of my head. "Feel it..." Lucien growled into my ear, biting my earlobe, "Feel it how we pleasure you, little mate." ****** My whole life I have known my identity as a human but everything changed once I took the job in the Kings' palace as their maid and their attention fell on me. Black Vale Dynasty was ruled by three powerful Vampire kings. Respected, Obeyed and feared they were the most dangerous predators on the earth. But when my life unknowingly gets entangled with theirs, soon the unimaginable happened—On the night of the full moon, I turned out to be their mate and this puts my whole existence under question. They did not want to leave me but a human couldn't be the destined mate of a vampire, let alone three. However, fate pulled the strangest game on me, linking my life to the eliminated Vaidel-Dynasty which was once ruled by the strongest vampire of all time before the rogue attack…that destroyed everything.

Seraphine Vale is whisked away to Aetherborn Academy after a terrifying magical incident, she expects answers, not four dangerously captivating boys who seem unnervingly drawn to her. Alaric, the cold vampire noble. Kade, the brooding werewolf with eyes like storms. Damien, the charming dragon prince. And Lucien, the beautiful, unreadable incubus who invades her dreams. Each boy reacts to Seraphine as if they've known her far longer than she's been alive... and each one's powers surge unpredictably around her. As forbidden feelings spark and jealousy rises, Seraphine discovers a chilling truth: a prophecy ties her fate to theirs and to a sealed ancient power capable of either saving or destroying their world. Dark forces begin stirring beneath the Academy, hunting her magic... and her heart. To survive, Seraphine must unravel the mystery of who she really is and which boy she can trust when love itself might set the prophecy in motion. Because awakening the Aetherborn doesn't just change her destiny. It changes everyone around her.

The sound of the front door opening was a nightmare come true-my younger sister, Emily, stood there, not alone, but holding a baby in a cheap pink blanket. "Surprise! Meet Leo. He' s the newest addition to the Miller family legacy," she announced, her voice sickeningly carefree, echoing the very words that had derailed my life in a past I' d already lived. My blood ran cold; this exact moment, this casual act of irresponsibility, had led directly to my death before. My parents, blinded by affection, embraced the child and Emily' s monstrous lie, turning their backs on my desperate pleas for reason. Consumed by a terrible sense of déjà vu, I remembered the blinding pain, the darkness that consumed me when Emily, armed with one of my own sculptures, ended my previous life for simply asking her to be responsible. But this time, I wouldn't be the martyr-this time, the cycle would break, and Emily would pay.'

Transmigration? So what? Given this second chance in life, I would not definitely make any mistakes... including that of opening my heart. :cover photo not mine:

there are thirty-three stories in this compilation" synonyms: collection, selection, anthology, treasury, compendium, album, corpus, miscellany, pot-pourri, miscellanea, garland, ana, collectanea, analects, florilegium

I had been dead for a year, my spirit tethered to my daughter, Emma, watching over her in the orphanage. Then, the director called my ex-husband, Elroy, for Emma' s urgent medical treatment, but he coldly refused, telling her, "Then let her die. It would be a convenience. She can go join her short-lived mother." A week later, Emma died at five years old, because her father wouldn' t spare the money to save her. Days later, Elroy arrived at the orphanage, believing I had faked Emma' s death to manipulate him. He pulled back the sheet covering her small body, sneering, "Very realistic. A good prop." He then picked up our daughter' s body, carried her outside, and tossed her into a dumpster, scattering raw meat around it, taunting, "Let's see how long this prop lasts when the stray dogs find it." My spirit screamed, but I was powerless as dogs tore at her. He believed I was alive, orchestrating a sick game, but I was a ghost, a silent, screaming witness to his monstrous cruelty. Why did he hate us so much? Then, I saw him with Ivonne, his childhood sweetheart, heavily pregnant, and the horrifying truth clicked: he had a new family, and he wanted Emma' s heart for his new daughter.

I am a maid in the minister's residence and was sent to the study because of my lack of education. Just because the minister was in a good mood one day and talked to me more, and even gave me a sachet as a reward, the jealous Theresa, who is also a minister, thought that I had an affair with him. She pretended to arrange for me to marry into a good family, but actually sold me to a whorehouse. I suffered torture and contracted a serious illness, died with resentment and pain, but found myself reborn on the day I was assigned to be a maid again. Since heaven has given me a chance to live again, I will not be polite and will definitely make Theresa, the minister, taste the feeling of being trampled by thousands of people!

For years, I lived a quiet life as Sarah, deeply in love with Beau Harrison, tirelessly helping him and his brother Clay rise through the ranks. I poured my heart into a protective Woven Ward for Beau, believing we were building a beautiful, shared future towards our sacred Haven. My Cinderheart sister, Ashlyn, found her own love with Clay, and our gentle Shadowfox, Whisper, curled at our feet, a constant comfort. Then, a knock on the door shattered our world into a million pieces. Clay stood there with a smug Crystal Thorne, his voice chilling as he callously abandoned Ashlyn. Crystal brazenly demanded Ashlyn's very essence, her Spirit-Spark, for her own selfish ascension. But the true horror struck when she casually confessed they' d already murdered Whisper, harvesting his spark for Crystal' s gain. Ashlyn' s raw scream tore through the cabin as untamed flames erupted around her, shedding her disguise like a burning cloak before she rocketed away in a desperate escape. My heart was a burning stone of grief and rage. Moments later, Beau arrived, his face a stranger' s, summarily dismissing our love as he told me I was too "gentle" and "unambitious" for the Haven. He stood there with Crystal, expecting me to hand over my own Spirit-Spark after witnessing my beloved sister' s torments and our innocent pet' s murder. How could they be so utterly blind, so incredibly callous? They saw only Sarah, the soft woman they thought weak and easily discarded. They had no idea I, Scarlett, held the keys to the very divine realm they craved, no idea about the Guardian Spirit they had just so heinously betrayed. But their triumph would be short-lived, their stolen glory a trap. A cold resolve solidified in my core; my own vengeful plan was already set in motion. With a feigned, heartbroken resignation, I handed Beau the Woven Ward again, knowing it was now not a gift, but a tether ensuring their destined fall. "Oh, I' ll be there," I whispered, as Sarah was irrevocably gone, and Scarlett, the ancient Guardian, returned, ready to make them pay.