Cheater Karma Novels & Stories

On the day my daughter, Dakota Bradshaw, gets into a car accident, I rush over to save her, only to get crippled instead. Both my wife, Delilah Rowland, and Dakota don't mind the fact that I'm being a burden to them. Instead, they put in a lot of effort to take good care of me. But one day, a fire breaks out at home. Yet, Delilah personally closes my room door. Since I'm crippled, I end up falling to the floor in my state of panic. That's when I notice Dakota's shoes through the gap under the door. "Dakota, save me!" I call for help at the top of my lungs. But only the sounds of the crackling flames respond to me. I have no idea how much time has passed when I catch wisps of a conversation hazily. "Mom, the firefighters are here. What should we do?" Dakota's voice is very low. Delilah replies calmly, "Tell the police that your father started the fire when he was cooking. We just reached the corridor at that time, so the doorknob was already warped from the fire." Dakota simply says one word. "Okay."

My roommate branded herself as an influencer against beauty standards, vowing to free girls from appearance anxiety. Strangely, whenever she stayed up late partying and broke out in pimples, they would appear on my face instead. When she fooled around and caught an infection, the rashes spread across my body. The more radiant she became, the more monstrous I looked. People recoiled from me. Friends cut me off. My own boyfriend, before a crowd, told me I should just die. Then my roommate got pregnant, yet it was my stomach that swelled like I was eight months along, scarred with terrifying stretch marks. She, meanwhile, looked more flawless than ever, appearing barefaced on camera to encourage girls not to fear their looks. I knew something was not right. When I tried to dig for answers, my roommate and boyfriend trapped me in a basement. They tortured me until I died. Only then did I learn the truth. He owned a cursed amulet that shifted all her pain onto me. The moment I opened my eyes, I was back on our first day of college together. This time, the game is mine. I'll make sure they pay.

"Hi there, I'd like to emigrate." Christina stood at the counter and handed over the neatly prepared documents to the clerk on the other side of the glass. The clerk quickly stamped each page. The red ink spread like tiny ripples on still water. Then, without looking up, he pulled out another form and passed it back to her. "Ma'am, your paperwork will be processed in fifteen days." Christina nodded, turned on her heel, and headed for the exit. But before she could step outside, whispers trailed after her. "Did I see that right? Mrs. Waldorf is applying for emigration? Did she have a squabble with Mr. Waldorf?" "Even if they argued, would it go this far? Mr. Waldorf practically worships her. What could possibly make her leave so decisively?" "Exactly. Five years ago, their wedding was the event of the century. Even someone like me, who barely goes online, heard about it. And three years ago, after her car accident, the blood bank ran out of stock. Mr. Waldorf ignored everyone's objections and nearly drained himself to save her. Then, just last year, when she disappeared for an hour, he mobilized every media outlet worldwide to find her. Now she's leaving without a word—won't that drive him insane?" The murmurs swirled and lingered, but Christina only smiled faintly. Her expression was calm, but her eyes darkened with a bitterness that deepened with every step. Yes, she thought. Everyone knew just how much Lucien Waldorf loved her.

I go ice fishing with my husband, and we encounter a snowstorm and hailstorm. The mountainside villa has no sustenance and power, and he takes my down jacket to keep his former superior warm. I'm three months pregnant, and my daughter is having a high fever. However, he pushes us out of the villa to look for wild vegetables. Why? Because his former superior wants to eat them. He probably has no idea that I've come to this villa countless times to prepare his anniversary gift. Later, my daughter ends up mentally disabled from the high fever. I finally get my hands on proof of his under-the-table dealings with his former superior. I destroy him before he's promoted!

My daughter hid inside the cabinet, her trembling hands dialing her father—James, the Alpha of our pack. "Mommy's bleeding a lot. Please, come back and save her," she pleaded. "I'm busy. Don't bother me," James said coldly. "If she's going to die, make sure she does it far away." As he wished, I never bothered him again. Because I really did die, right in front of our wedding photo. When he found out, he went mad, completely mad.

My wolf awakened on my eighteenth birthday. Soon after, the Feral Curse tore through the werewolf world. The curse nearly claimed me, but a young Alpha, Lachlan, saved my life. He brought me to his pack. His parents, the Alpha and Luna, took me in. They gave me the best room in the pack house and treated me like the daughter they never had. Lachlan never left my side. He risked catching the curse himself, patiently feeding me potions one sip at a time. His wolf knew. I was his fated mate. I was the envy of the pack. I had an Alpha's total devotion. Then one day, Lachlan knelt before me. In his hands was the Moonstone necklace—the symbol of every Luna who came before me. He held me tight, whispering a promise to show the world that I belonged to him, and him alone. I accepted the necklace. But that night, I twisted his love into a poison. A poison I used to murder his parents and eighteen of their loyal retainers.

When the fire broke out, I called my husband, Hector. He didn't answer. Instead, he ran straight into the flames—to save my sister, Emma. They held each other, clinging to life, while I was trapped in the basement, watching my calls go ignored until all hope burned out. Afterward, Emma played innocent, twisting everything. She told him, "Hector, don't blame Sienna. She didn't leave me on purpose... she was just scared." Her lie made me the villain, and everyone bought it. Fueled by hatred, Hector spat, "She's so vicious—why didn't that fire just take her?" Three months later, the police found my body.

I was twelve when Henry Shaw took me home from the orphanage, gave me a new name, put me through school, and gave me a good life. Ten years later, his first love returned from abroad. Her name sounded like mine, and her face looked like a mirror image. I quickly realized I had been a stand-in all along. Crushing the diagnosis in my pocket, I decided that I was going to live the rest of my life for myself, even if I did not have much time left.

My wife, a doctor, treated our daughter like a walking blood bank. When our daughter passed away, she took it even further. She transplanted her corneas into her old flame’s son. Before our daughter’s body was even cold, she was out having dinner with her ex and his son. They were celebrating that the boy could see again. She even went so far as to secretly burn our daughter’s body to get rid of any evidence. By the time I got there, all I saw was my daughter's ashes being swallowed up by the flames. I told her I wanted a divorce. She just sneered, “It’s only a daughter. Are you really going to divorce me over this?” But later, she was down on her knees, begging me not to leave her.

After my husband picked up his secretary and our son, they went into the hotel for a business meeting. Photos of them were trending online. I gave him a call to ask him about it, but he hung up on me impatiently. “I’m meeting a client. Obviously, we’re meeting at the hotel! Can you stop being unreasonable?” I was busy contacting IT support to retract the trending topics. Two hours later, I received a call from the emergency department of the hospital. When I reached the hospital, my son was already dead. In his hand, he was still holding a staff ID tag. The secretary’s name was on the tag. I broke down crying. My husband, Zac Davis, had blocked my number so I could not reach him. After I completed the hospital procedures, Zac finally returned my call. He sounded very angry and impatient, “Did you fetch our son? Why didn’t you inform me? Don’t you know that we’re all waiting for him to pass us the agreement? Just send the document over now!” After that, he immediately hung up and blocked my number again. I stared at the notification on my phone and sneered. I was going to snatch your clients and force you into a dead end!