Lorraine
8 Published Stories
Lorraine's Books and Stories
Reborn, Redeemed, Relentless Revenge
Xuanhuan The scent of gasoline and burning metal, the agonizing twisting of the car around me-that was my last memory. My sister Bella' s triumphant smile, seared into my mind as flames consumed me.
Then, a blinding flash, and I was back. Not in a hospital, but in my old bedroom, years younger, my hands smooth and unscarred. The shock of rebirth warred with a fierce, tiny spark of hope. A second chance. A chance to do it right.
But the past wasn't content to stay buried. The memories flooded back: my father, framed and driven to suicide; his legacy left in ruins; my life single-mindedly devoted to clearing his name. And Bella, my own sister, orchestrating my downfall, poisoning my family and reputation for her frivolous desires, egged on by her manipulative lover, Leo.
The car accident wasn' t an accident. It was a calculated murder, a final betrayal. They left me for dead, my life' s work shattered, my body broken.
The raw pain of that memory still gnawed at me, the bitter taste of betrayal fresh on my tongue. Why had they done this? How could a sister be so cruel?
Then, the creak of a door. Bella walked in, dressed in a brand new designer dress, her face a mask of practiced sweetness. "Chloe," she cooed, "I need to talk to you about something." It was the exact same scene. The same beginning. But this time, she wouldn' t find a victim. This time, I knew the game, and I was ready to play. The Toxic Love That Almost Destroyed Me
Modern For five years, I was Broadway's golden girl, and my powerful CEO boyfriend, Brennan, was my anchor. Our love felt invincible, a modern fairytale written across city marquees.
Then he met Aimee, a struggling musician he claimed saved his life in a car crash.
He gave her the vintage guitar he'd promised me. He stole my private journal so she could turn my pain into a hit song, making me a national laughingstock. He even used my dying mother's medical bills to keep me trapped.
But the night my mother was dying, the night she needed an emergency helicopter, he diverted it. He sent her only hope to Aimee, who was having a "panic attack."
My mother died alone.
At her funeral, a reporter asked about his engagement to Aimee. He thought he had broken me, but he had just started a war. He didn't know the separation papers he'd already signed weren't for a payout-they were for a divorce, and I was about to disappear. Blood on the Snow, A Lost Life
Modern On our sixth anniversary, I found my fiancé Carter had given my grandmother's heirloom locket to his "fragile" colleague, Carmen.
When I confronted him, he slapped me across the face.
He then dragged me out into the snow, forcing me to my knees to apologize to Carmen for upsetting her. The stress and his violence triggered a miscarriage. I was losing our baby right there at his feet.
He never even noticed the blood staining the snow. He was too busy comforting the woman he chose over me and our child.
I left that night and never looked back.
Three years later, after building a new life and a successful bakery, he showed up on my doorstep, a ghost of a man, dying of cancer.
He collapsed, coughing up blood at my feet, begging for a forgiveness I no longer had to give. His Sacrifice, Her Cold Indifference
Modern I was forced to marry Drake Knox, a Wall Street titan twice my age. I fought him at every turn, but his cold control slowly melted into a possessive passion I couldn't resist.
Then his ex-girlfriend, Julia, returned, claiming a terminal illness had brought her back to him.
He chose her. When I was injured and left bleeding in a hotel lobby, he ran to comfort her.
When she murdered my dog, Peanut, and framed me, he believed her lies without question.
His punishment for my "betrayal" was to lock me away in his mansion, a gilded cage he called protection.
He sacrificed my safety, my sanity, and my freedom for the woman he truly loved. I was just a substitute.
So I ran. And when he chased me down a highway, I gave him an ultimatum: let me go, or watch me die. I stepped in front of a speeding truck.
I never expected him to swerve his own car into its path, sacrificing himself to save me. His Mistrust, Her Silent Sacrifice
Romance Sarah Miller finally shook off the fog of a traumatic brain injury, memories flooding back, only to discover her life in ruin.
Her so-called friend, Brenda, publicly accused her of shoplifting, prompting Mike, her military husband, to present devastating divorce papers.
Then, a debt collector arrived, exposing thousands in debt wrought by Brenda' s years of malicious manipulation.
Mike, accustomed to Sarah's alleged "trouble," paid the debts but solidified his mistrust, silencing her pleas and locking her in their home.
Brenda further engineered Mike's downfall: spreading rumors of his fictional injury, then "finding" Sarah' s pre-signed divorce papers, painting her as an abandoning wife.
Believing these cruel lies, Mike signed the papers, utterly sealing their fate.
Heartbroken and secretly pregnant, Sarah overheard Mike declare his resolute divorce, convinced she was a manipulative burden.
How could she possibly explain the years of calculated deceit that orchestrated her complete ruin?
Her newfound clarity only illuminated the utter devastation Brenda had wrought.
Leaving behind the signed divorce papers and a silent farewell, Sarah vanished from Fort Henderson.
Six years later, amid the chaos of Hurricane Anya, she' d unexpectedly face Mike again.
But this time, a shocking truth-and a little girl-would unravel everything. A Second Chance, A True Love's Kiss
Romance The Montauk Highway rain slammed against our windshield, just like my stomach cramped with familiar, sharp pain.
Marcus drove, his knuckles white, until his phone flashed 'Izzy.'
My husband, always her loyal puppy, was gone in a flash.
"Ellie, call an Uber. Izzy needs me," he' d declared, abandoning me sick and alone on that dark road.
It was the ninth time Marcus chose his ex-girlfriend over me, his wife.
The 'ninth goodbye' in a cruel bet Izzy orchestrated years ago: "Nine times, Ellie. Nine. Then you walk away."
Each incident a deeper cut: my anniversary dinner, my emergency surgery, my grandmother' s memorial.
I was just his convenient rebound, his 'consolation prize,' a pawn in their twisted game.
Days later, after an elevator accident left me shattered and hospitalized, Marcus cradled Izzy, his terror only for her.
I finally saw it with chilling clarity: he never truly loved me.
My marriage was a meticulously crafted lie, orchestrated by Izzy from college.
My love for him, that foolish, stubborn hope, was finally drained, leaving only an aching void.
But the game was over.
I had already signed the divorce papers he carelessly overlooked, ready for my freedom.
When Izzy later set a vicious trap to publicly shame me, accusing me of assault, a mysterious stranger stepped in, changing everything.
This was the end of a nightmare, and the beginning of my true life. Too Late for Regret, Liam
Romance For six years, I believed Liam and I were building a real life together in our Chicago apartment.
I always thought our love was solid, unbreakable.
One quiet Tuesday night, searching his laptop for a tax document, I stumbled upon a folder simply named "C."
Curiosity, that stupid little nudge, made me click.
It wasn't finances; it was Chloe.
Thousands of photos, her smiling face, and then the "Journal" subfolder.
My hands shook as I read devastating entries.
The flowers he bought me after my promotion, the romantic trip to Italy, even our engagement-each cherished moment a desperate reaction to a woman he still couldn't let go of.
He worried I was pregnant, clearly terrified of being tied to me while Chloe was "still out there."
Then Chloe herself started sending me messages, photos of her and Liam, bragging I was just a "placeholder."
I heard him tell his best friend he was "stringing me along" to make Chloe jealous.
The man I loved saw me only as a prop in his silent play for another woman.
How could I have been so blind, so completely fooled?
His ring on my finger was never for me.
With a cold, hard clarity, I realized my entire relationship was a meticulously crafted lie.
I saved every message, every damning photo, and wrote a short note: "We're done."
I closed our joint accounts, changed my number, and bought a bus ticket out of Chicago.
There was no sadness, just a firm click of a door closing on a life that was never truly mine. You might like
His Proposal, Her Two Choices
CAMILLE BERRY In my past life, a divine power offered my sister and me a choice between two life systems. Olivia, my older sister, eagerly chose the "Socialite Siren," while I was left with the "Independent Achiever," a system that demanded tireless, solitary effort.
Ten years later, I had achieved hard-won but lonely success as a tech startup founder, while Olivia, having manipulated her way through the city's elite, lay paralyzed after a brutal accident. Her resentment, however, burned brighter than ever, culminating in her stabbing me repeatedly in a hospital room.
My vision faded, only to snap open again. I was back at the moment of choice, the shimmering orbs presenting themselves once more. A cruel smile twisted Olivia's lips as she snatched the "Independent Achiever," believing she was taking the superior path and leaving me with the "leftovers."
She smirked. "Looks like you're stuck with the leftovers, Chloe. Good luck trying to charm your way through life. I'll be watching you fail."
This time, I almost laughed. After reliving the brutal isolation of the "Independent Achiever," I knew true independence wasn't about lonely hell. Olivia, blinded by greed and pride, had no idea I was finally free.
With profound relief, I touched the pink orb. "I choose the 'Socialite Siren' system." This time, I wouldn't be its prisoner; I'd change the rules completely. Reborn, Redeemed, Relentless Revenge
Lorraine The scent of gasoline and burning metal, the agonizing twisting of the car around me-that was my last memory. My sister Bella' s triumphant smile, seared into my mind as flames consumed me.
Then, a blinding flash, and I was back. Not in a hospital, but in my old bedroom, years younger, my hands smooth and unscarred. The shock of rebirth warred with a fierce, tiny spark of hope. A second chance. A chance to do it right.
But the past wasn't content to stay buried. The memories flooded back: my father, framed and driven to suicide; his legacy left in ruins; my life single-mindedly devoted to clearing his name. And Bella, my own sister, orchestrating my downfall, poisoning my family and reputation for her frivolous desires, egged on by her manipulative lover, Leo.
The car accident wasn' t an accident. It was a calculated murder, a final betrayal. They left me for dead, my life' s work shattered, my body broken.
The raw pain of that memory still gnawed at me, the bitter taste of betrayal fresh on my tongue. Why had they done this? How could a sister be so cruel?
Then, the creak of a door. Bella walked in, dressed in a brand new designer dress, her face a mask of practiced sweetness. "Chloe," she cooed, "I need to talk to you about something." It was the exact same scene. The same beginning. But this time, she wouldn' t find a victim. This time, I knew the game, and I was ready to play. Reborn: A Wife's Vengeful Return
Haley The antiseptic smell of the hospital and the relentless rain were the last things I remembered from my past life. That' s where it ended-my body hollowed by grief, my spirit eroded by depression after losing my baby in a hurricane.
But on my deathbed, a final, cruel truth echoed from outside my room: my husband, Mark, and his childhood sweetheart, Lisa, conspired to destroy me. They admitted using their own daughter, Chloe, as bait in the storm, knowing my "bleeding heart" would save her, ensuring I' d miscarry and become a "barren mule."
They rejoiced in how I' d raised Chloe, their daughter, completely oblivious to their monstrous scheme. I died with their laughter ringing in my ears, my last breath a ragged gasp of pure, undiluted hatred.
Then, I gasped again, a deep, full breath. My eyes snapped open. I wasn' t dying. I was in my living room, the wind howling, a news anchor warning of a Category 8 hurricane.
My hand flew to my stomach-a faint, familiar warmth. My baby was still there. I was still pregnant. I was alive, reborn to the day it all began.
The trap was being set again. I knew who was out there, waiting to be "saved." My nine-year-old son, Ethan, tugged my sleeve, pointing with manufactured fear.
"Mom, look! There's a little girl out there! In the water! She's going to drown!" The Bait Boy's Billionaire Secret
Paula Gardini The preliminary exam for the Presidential Scholarship was about to begin. I stared at the essay prompt: "The Nature of Ambition." I knew exactly what to write.
A flawless essay, every sentence a stroke of genius, destined to secure my spot in the finals and launch my brilliant future.
But in my last life, that perfect essay became my death sentence. Mere minutes before I could hand in my paper, my rival, Ethan, uploaded an identical one online.
Then, he and my girlfriend, Jessica, launched a brutal campaign, painting me as a fraud, a plagiarist who stole from the school's golden boy.
The scandal utterly destroyed me. I was expelled, the scholarship snatched away. The immense stress broke my mother's weak heart; she died, still questioning my integrity.
My father, a humble bait-and-tackle shop owner, spent his entire life savings trying to clear my name before he perished in a suspicious boating "accident." Left with nothing, watching Ethan celebrate his Yale graduation online, I extinguished my own life.
The cold, hard rage of that injustice consumed me, even in death.
How did they know every thought, every perfect turn of phrase? How could they have replicated my genius so flawlessly, systematically dismantling my life while I was powerless?
Now, I'm back. In the same exam room, at the same desk, with the same clock ticking down. This time, I' m not just rewriting an essay. I' m rewriting history. And the script calls for a reckoning. Shattered Light: A Queen's Vengeance
AtengKadiwa I woke up back in my old novitiate room.
The sunlight was weak, my head ached, but it wasn't physical pain. It was the crushing weight of a whole life, stolen, crashing back into me.
Years of sacrifice, of pouring my heart into others-Ethan, Maya, Mr. Henderson-all ripped away.
My deepest devotions, twisted by a dark ritual, a "Charm of Transference," meant to siphon my spiritual credit to my sister, Seraphina.
She was lauded for my true work, celebrated for my love, while I was publicly shamed, exiled, and left to die, broken and alone.
Now, I' m back, and the game is already in motion. Alistair is setting the stage for Seraphina's rise, forcing me down familiar paths of betrayal.
I tried to change things, to build something real with Kai, to honor Mr. Henderson. But again, Seraphina claimed every ounce of my effort, my love, my sacrifice as her own, leaving me stripped bare, exiled, deemed "unworthy."
Each repeated betrayal, a fresh cut, compounded the rage that had settled deep within me.
How could they keep stealing my life, my essence, transforming my pure intentions into their glittering lies?
The injustice was a living thing, purer and more potent than any "Grace" they pretended to embody. It burned away the last vestiges of the hopeful girl I once was.
No more. I died once, broken and alone, with anger as my only companion.
This time, my pain is my power, my rage a crucible. On the eve of Seraphina' s coronation, I won' t just endure.
I will shatter their illusion, severing the very source of their stolen power, even if it means destroying myself in the process.
The game has changed. I am back, and this time, I play to win. His Second Life Begins
Mattie Valelly My soul floated above the cold asphalt, watching my own naked body lying lifelessly on the street. I was 30, a successful architect, but all I heard were whispers of judgment-that I' d thrown my life away for Olivia. Everyone knew she never loved me, that she was always with Daniel. To die like this, discarded and forgotten, was nothing short of a pathetic waste.
Then, a strange, swirling pain, and I woke up not dead, but screaming, my left hand wrapped in a bloody rag. A finger was freshly severed. Before me, tied to a chair, was Daniel. And holding a bloody knife, cold and impatient, stood Olivia. My mind reeled: this was ten years ago, the very day my life began its downward spiral. The kidnapping, the torture, the moment Olivia chose Daniel over me, leaving me for dead.
The memory of my actual death, the whispers of strangers judging my wasted life, burned clearer than any past pain. I watched her look at Daniel, her choice already made in her eyes, just like before. I was nothing to her. I had always been nothing. The desperate love, the years of pining-it all turned to ashes.
Why was I back? Why was I forced to relive this cruel charade, knowing the tragic end it led to? The injustice, the utter pointlessness of my devotion, fueled a cold, hard fury I' d never known. This time, something inside me snapped.
This time, I wouldn' t beg. This time, I' d escape. I' d use every shred of memory I had from the future I' d just left, every bitter lesson learned, to break free and forge a life entirely my own, a life where Olivia had no place. The Twin's Fatal Deception: A Reborn Wife's Justice
Valeria A grim news report flashed on screen: "Catastrophic lab explosion at Innovatech Robotics."
Then came the update that made my blood run cold: "CEO Mark Reinhart critically injured but alive.
His twin brother, David Reinhart, tragically declared dead." My husband.
Alive. But a chilling memory slammed into me.
Because this wasn't the first time this tragedy played out, just with the names reversed.
In my first life, Mark died, and David appeared, claiming amnesia.
But I knew it was Mark, changed and cruel.
He, along with his venomous mother and David's manipulative wife, gaslighted me, painting me as delusional.
They neglected my sweet Emily.
They smeared my name, turning the community against me.
It ended in fire and screams.
Emily and I didn't escape that guest house.
That nightmare of betrayal and agony was my first life.
Now, the roles were switched, but the lie was the same.
A cold wave of recognition, brutal and sharp, washed over me.
How could this be happening again?
No. This time, Emily needed me.
I wouldn't be the victim.
I would write a new ending.
Let Mark have his stolen life with Jessica; he would lose absolutely everything else.
My resolve hardened, sharp as steel. Called by the Token: Her True Mate
Noah Reed The fluorescent hum of the county clerk's office was the soundtrack to my defiance.
I clutched the pen, ready to marry Liam Thorne, a man I' d run seven days and suppressed a blood-bound token for, all to rewrite a past that still haunted my reborn soul.
Before the ink could touch the paper, Liam snatched the license.
Rip.
My heart stopped.
"I have to marry Chloe first," he said, his words echoing the betrayal I remembered from a lifetime ago.
He spoke of a week, of saving Chloe' s reputation, but I remembered years in a damp root cellar, the loss of our children.
My blood-bound token throbbed as his guards abducted me, dragging me to his coastal estate.
There, Chloe, the cousin whose manipulations haunted my first life, paraded in my wedding gown, her triumph chilling.
With a staged cry and a splash of fake blood, she framed me.
Liam, blinded by her fake tears, roared, "Take her to the old root cellar!"
My nightmare was real again.
The sting of his slap echoed the cruelty of a past he seemed to have forgotten, but I hadn't.
Had he learned nothing?
Did he truly believe a week could erase my agony, our lost children, the years in that dark cellar?
The blood-bound token, suppressed for so long, now pulsed with a furious, undeniable call.
As the heavy door of that dreaded root cellar slammed shut, I finally let go.
No more running.
No more pretending.
My forced apology was a lie, a means to an end.
It was time for my people to find me.
It was time to go home.
And this time, I wouldn't be marrying him.
I was going home to Elijah. 
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