No Second Chances: My Empire, My Rules

My app, GatherGround, was a hit, and my launch party was buzzing. It was also my birthday, a night meant for celebration. Then, my best friend Jess and charming boyfriend Ethan gave me a "special" gift: a vintage instant camera. What followed was a nightmare. My mother died in a freak accident, my dad suffered a debilitating stroke, my company was cyber-attacked and destroyed, and Ethan coldly abandoned me. As I stared death in the face, a horrifying truth flashed before my eyes: the camera wasn' t a gift-it was draining everything from me, giving it to them, to Jess and Ethan, who flourished as I withered. But then, I gasped, the party music pounding again, and saw Jess walking towards me with that same cursed box, moments before it all began. I was back, and this time, armed with knowledge and burning rage, I would rewrite my fate.

My wedding rehearsal dinner was supposed to be the perfect start to my future with Ethan. But then, a text from my sister Chloe, "Surprise! Got an earlier flight!" and just like that, my entire family, including my fiancé, walked out on me. They left me alone, humiliated, to pay for the abandoned dinner. It worsened. That night, despite my shellfish allergy, I was forced to cook Chloe her favorite risotto, my hands blistering, while they celebrated her. Then, when Chloe had a severe allergic reaction to nuts I' d unintentionally left out, my mother slapped me accusingly. My own family, and Ethan, branded me a jealous monster, willing to harm my sister. But the final blow came when I overheard them. My marriage to Ethan? Just a "strategic move" to keep him, Chloe' s long-time crush, trapped in our family' s orbit. I was bait. My entire life, a calculated chess move. The love I craved, the respect I yearned for, was a lie. That night, something inside me broke, and then rebuilt. I quietly submitted my application for a federal clerkship in D.C. Then, I packed my bag, left a life of lies, and never looked back.

Savannah stood at my desk, her smile unsettlingly bright, holding a tiny antique bottle. "For you, Chloe," she purred, her voice dripping with fake sweetness, "a special family recipe for good fortune." But a chill ran down my spine the moment I saw it. The bottle. The smell. The lie. It all came flooding back with agonizing clarity. I remembered the grotesque rash, worse than any psoriasis, erupting across my skin. It was red, raw, and it smelled like rotting meat, coarse black hair sprouting from inflamed patches. Doctors were confused, their creams useless. My own reflection became a monster. Ethan, my boyfriend and boss, looked at me with disgust before abandoning me for good. I was fired from the job I loved, my career turning to ash. I died alone in my apartment, ostracized and broken, the foul reek of my own decaying flesh my final breath. Then I remembered the truth I learned after death: It wasn't a disease. It was a vicious Hoodoo curse, a 'crossing' fed by that very essential oil. A "gift" from my best friend, Savannah. She wanted my job, my beauty, my entire life. And she took it all. But now, I was back. My skin was clear, my body whole. I had a second chance. And this time, she wouldn't win.

My phone screen lit up, not with a text, but a stark, black-and-white pop-up. "Ethan' s SAT scores: 1580. Stanford bound with Tiffany. You' re the 'just in case' girl." Just moments earlier, my childhood crush Ethan, whose father my own dad died saving, feigned despair over "disastrous" SAT scores. He'd gently coerced me, the valedictorian, to give up my dream school for State College, all for "us." These mysterious pop-ups, visible only to me, had always been unsettlingly, terrifyingly right. This one revealed his calculated deception: he'd aced his SATs and was going to Stanford with his new girlfriend, Tiffany. My heart turned to ice. I was his backup plan, a discarded pawn. The betrayal escalated at his lavish graduation party where he publicly humiliated me, painting my sacrifice as my idea. Then, with Tiffany's cruel suggestion, he trapped and locked me in a dark utility closet. The final blow: he brazenly showed my ailing mom a faked State acceptance letter, causing her to suffer a heart attack. As I sat by her hospital bed, watching her struggle for breath, a cold rage ignited. How could the boy whose family owed us everything be capable of such cruel manipulation? My dad died for his. Why was I his pawn? What were these pop-ups? But in that sterile room, watching his continued charade, something inside me snapped. I slapped him, hard. No longer a confused victim, I saw him for what he was: a manipulative abuser. This wasn't the end of my story. This was the beginning of my fight to reclaim it.

My hand trembled as I prepared to call Kevin. I had sacrificed everything for him, cutting ties with my tycoon father, Harrison Gold. But finally, my father had agreed to meet Kevin, even considering funding his tech startup. Peace and success felt within our grasp. Then, a new Instagram post from Jess Vance, Kevin's business partner, popped up. It was an ultrasound picture, captioned, "Love knows no timeline." My blood ran cold when Kevin called moments later. "Jess is pregnant," he stated flatly. "It's mine," he continued, "and she' s Harrison Gold's daughter." He demanded a divorce, claiming it was "just business" to secure vital funding. He violently shoved me as I resisted, sending me crashing into a table. A searing pain ripped through me as I crumpled, bleeding profusely. I was losing our baby, and he just walked out, leaving me there. The man I loved and gave everything for had brutally betrayed me. He destroyed our marriage, our future, and our unborn child for a lie and for money. How could he commit such a monstrous act, all for a fabricated identity for his mistress? But he made one critical mistake: he provoked a Gold. He dismissed me as unsupported, never realizing my powerful father's true reach. My father, seeing my brokenness and the loss of his grandchild, vowed cold, absolute revenge. This wasn't just a breakup; it was a war, and I, Sarah Gold, was about to rise from its ashes.

I remember the Orlando theme park vividly, a chaotic backdrop to the day I, Sarah, believed I saved my younger brother, Kevin, from a suspicious beat-up van and the men within. For twenty-two agonizing years that followed, he systematically dismantled my happiness, turning my very existence into a meticulously crafted hell, blaming me for every one of his pathetic failures and wasted life choices. On my fortieth birthday, as celebratory champagne turned to deadly poison in my throat, Kevin leaned close, his eyes glinting with pure, unadulterated triumph, whispering, "You should have let me go, Sarah; this is all your fault." That agonizing betrayal, that final, calculated act of malice, consumed me entirely as darkness quickly enveloped my world, stealing my breath and my future. I died, drowning in his insidious lies and my own complete helplessness, forever haunted by his chilling words, believing my life was ultimately a tragic, unending consequence of his twisted vendetta. Then, with a jarring jolt, I was miraculously back in that exact moment, the searing Florida sun oppressive, the cheerful theme park music grating, fully transported to the very nightmare where my torment began. There he was again, my sixteen-year-old brother Kevin, a familiar cocky smirk adorning his young face, confidently heading straight for the same beat-up van and its sinister occupants. This time, no frantic screams of warning tore from my throat; no desperate rush to interfere compelled my feet forward, no instinct to rescue him remained. A chilling stillness settled deep within my core, an immediate echo of the grave he' d prepared for me, as I consciously embraced a profoundly different path. I watched him climb into the decrepit van, watched its door slam shut on his ignorant bliss, and understood with absolute clarity that my second chance was not for any kind of salvation, but for a justice far colder and more absolute than I ever conceived.

After being kicked out of her home, Harlee learned she wasn't the biological daughter of her family. Rumors had it that her impoverished biological family favored sons and planned to profit from her return. Unexpectedly, her real father was a zillionaire, catapulting her into immense wealth and making her the most cherished member of the family. While they anticipated her disgrace, Harlee secretly held design patents worth billions. Celebrated for her brilliance, she was invited to mentor in a national astronomy group, drew interest from wealthy suitors, and caught the eye of a mysterious figure, ascending to legendary status.

I woke up from a car accident, my head pounding, to Ethan's hushed voice on the phone. Not sweet nothings to me, his injured fiancée, but a deal with his agent to steal my screenplay, "City of Echoes," and give it to A-lister Olivia Monroe. He planned to propose at the premiere, trap me with a ring, and erase me from the narrative of my own success, all for Olivia's comeback and his own glory. The agent, surprisingly, spilled the tea: my early career sacrifice to cover Ethan's plagiarism, and Olivia's involvement in the stress that led to my miscarriage, our baby now gone. Was my entire relationship a carefully woven web of lies, orchestrated by an ambitious man and a manipulative starlet? Then I saw that framed photo of me in Liam Sterling's office: a gesture of respect towards my writing. This realization made me start a new life plan: run, collaborate with Ethan's nemesis, and rewrite my history.

"Please trust me, I didn't do anything." "I don't believe you. I am rejecting you as my Queen and giving you the punishment of death." Alina was living outside her pack for five years. Her parents didn't try to contact her and always ignored her. Her best friend convinced her to go back to their pack and she agreed. But she had never imagined what was waiting there for her. She never thought she would meet her mate and had to face betrayal from everywhere. She had to pay for the crime which she never committed. Aaron Robertson is the king of Lycans. He is a very dominant and powerful King who not only rules Lycans but also rules other ranks of werewolves. Everyone is afraid of Lycans and he is the king of them. But who knew that he would get a mate who was just a simple Omega with no powers and strengths? He called her weak all the time but little did he know that his weak Omega would give him the biggest betrayal of his life for which he had to give her the sentence of death.

Betrayed by her mate and sister on the eve of her wedding, Makenna was handed to the ruthless Lycan Princes as a lover, her indifferent father ignoring her plight. Determined to escape and seek revenge, she captured the interest of the three Lycan princes, who desired her exclusively amid many admirers. This complicated her plans, trapping her and making her a rival to the future Lycan queen. Entwined in jealousy and vindictiveness, could Makenna achieve her vengeance in the intricate dance with the three princes?

"Ahh!" She was in a moaning mess. She did not want to feel anything for this man. She hated him. His hands began to move all over her body. She gasped when he pulled down the back chain of her dress. The chain stopped at her lower waist, so when he zipped it off, her upper back and waist were exposed. "D-Don't touch m-ummm!" His fingers rolled around her bare back, and she pressed her head against the pillow. His touches were giving her goosebumps all over her body. With a deep angry voice, he whispered in her ear, "I am going to make you forget his touches, kisses, and everything. Every time you touch another man, you will only think of me." - - - Ava Adler was a nerdy omega. People bullied her because they thought she was ugly and unattractive. But Ava secretly loved the bad boy, Ian Dawson. He was the future Alpha of the Mystic Shadow Pack. However, he doesn't give a damn about rules and laws, as he only likes to play around with girls. Ava was unaware of Ian's arrogance until her fate intertwined with his. He neglected her and hurt her deeply. What would happen when Ava turned out to be a beautiful girl who could win over any boy, and Ian looked back and regretted his decisions? What if she had a secret identity that she had yet to discover? What if the tables turned and Ian begged her not to leave him?

Linsey was stood up by her groom to run off with another woman. Furious, she grabbed a random stranger and declared, "Let's get married!" She had acted on impulse, realizing too late that her new husband was the notorious rascal, Collin. The public laughed at her, and even her runaway ex offered to reconcile. But Linsey scoffed at him. "My husband and I are very much in love!" Everyone thought she was delusional. Then Collin was revealed to be the richest man in the world. In front of everyone, he got down on one knee and held up a stunning diamond ring. "I look forward to our forever, honey."