Greed If Re:zero Novels & Stories

Everyone said I was too possessive when it came to my girlfriend, Amanda Crane. When Amanda first started taking photos of her childhood friend, Ian Lewis, I ripped apart all the rolls of film. When she helped him fix his computer, I called her 100 times in an hour. And when he called her from the airport, asking her to pick him up because the rain made it impossible to get a cab, I held a knife to my throat. I told her I'd take my own life if she went to him. Fed up, Amanda shipped me off to a psychiatric hospital that same night. When I got out, I vanished. Amanda was certain I was hiding somewhere, spying on her and Ian, but I never showed up—until the celebration party for a business project three years later. Ian put his arm around Amanda and swirled the wine glass he was holding. He shot me a taunting look, remarking, "You used to get so jealous, Steven. I'm sure you no longer mind if Mandy and I drink from the same glass now, right?" He waited for me to go berserk the way I used to three years ago, but I simply moved the bottle of wine closer to them. "I don't mind at all, of course. Have as many glasses as you want. It's great to see that your relationship has been progressing so well." Amanda paused. Her eyes started to redden. She stared fixedly at me and questioned, "Why don't you feel jealous anymore, Steven?"

"What if... what if I had gotten pregnant back then? What if we had a child together? What would you do in that situation?" Ms. Julia leaned in, moving close to my ear, and whispered with a chilling intensity, "I would have killed him without a second thought." My eyes widened in shock, but the devil woman nodded with a cold smile. "That's right. Collin's heir can only be born from a woman who is exceptionally beautiful and exudes class, someone worthy of standing beside my handsome son. You, my dear, do not meet our standards. We have high expectations, girls." Marissa Bennett was left reeling from her mother-in-law's chilling words. Her elder sister, Renee, had abandoned her disabled fiancé on their wedding day, leaving Marissa to step in and marry him under the guise of Renee, all to save the family's reputation. The cruel twist? Marissa was forbidden from revealing her true identity to her new husband, Tyler Collins. After Tyler's surgery restored his health, Marissa's world was shattered when Renee returned, demanding her place as the rightful wife. Desperate to tell Tyler the truth, Marissa faced a dire threat from her mother-in-law, who vowed to kill her if she exposed the deception. Now pregnant and determined to protect her unborn child, Marissa must navigate the treacherous waters of the Collins family, seeking a way to escape and start anew, far from the lies and danger that surround her.

Layla Xander was gravely ill, with little time left. From that day forward, she had a revelation—when confronted with life and death, nothing else mattered. Selfish, leeching family members? She cut them off. A fiancé who proposed one day and cozied up to her 'good sister' the next? Out of her life. With nothing holding her back, she was finally free. Rumors about her slowly began to spread through her social circle. “Miss Xander has landed herself a wealthy benefactor.” “Miss Xander was seen vacationing with a young heartthrob.” “Miss Xander’s fortune has skyrocketed. She’s throwing around millions like it’s nothing.” Later, when the truth came to light, those who had abandoned her were left in tears, begging for forgiveness. Her leeching parents wept, “You’ll always be our sweet daughter. Come back home, won’t you?” Her scumbag ex-fiancé pleaded, “You’re the only one I’ve ever loved. Please, give me another chance.” But it was too late! A man stepped in, blocking everyone from getting near her. His face was cold and menacing as he growled, “Anyone who dares disturb Miss Xander again will leave here with broken legs.” And then, later still, that same man—once so untouchable and feared—knelt on one knee before her. His voice was deep and unwavering. “Whether in life or death, you’ll always be mine.” … William Lucas never claimed to be a good man. As the head of an elite and powerful family, his path had been paved with blood, and his decisiveness struck fear into anyone who dared cross him. No one could have guessed that this untouchable figure, feared by all, had been hiding away a tender place in his heart—for a girl. A secret he had carried for eight long years. Every ounce of gentleness he had was reserved solely for her.

With a sharp gunshot, my husband of twenty years, Marcus De Luca, rushed in front of me and took the bullet for me. As he lay dying, he spoke gently. “Nerina, live well.” I held him in my arms. My tears kept falling as I pressed hard against the wound in his chest. But he only touched my hair. His eyes fell on Vivian’s body. “She’s dead. I have no reason to live either.” It felt like a bullet had gone through my head. All the blood in my body froze. “She suffered in Sicily for twenty years.” “She finally came back, and now she died in front of me.” “Please stay alive. Bury me with her.” “If there is another life, don’t let her go to Sicily in your place again.” “Please make us whole.” His hand fell. My world collapsed. When I opened my eyes again, I was standing in front of Marcus’s father. The old Don looked at me. “Your wedding with Marcus is set for three days from now.” I lifted my head and spoke calmly. “Marcus’s bride should not be me. It should be Vivian.” “As for Sicily, I’ll go.”

Brianna Lester, with her unusually platinum blonde hair and grayish-blue eyes, is impossible to miss wherever she goes. Her bubbly personality, hyperactivity, innate talent for tripping even while standing still, and her knack for always causing trouble ensure that she immediately catches the attention of the coolest tattoo artist around. Unfortunately, it's not her rather unique appearance that gets noticed, but her clumsiness. The moment she closes the door of the tattoo shop, one of the pictures hanging on the wall-the owner's favorite, and quite valuable-unexpectedly falls down. To make up for the damage, she ends up working at the shop until she can pay off the cost of the picture. It would all be pretty easy if a sexy tattoo artist didn't enjoy teasing her about her bad luck. By now, Brianna has resigned herself to the idea that her life is stuck in the "never a joy" zone, and her birthday is proof of that. Who can be considered lucky if they were born on a day that only comes once every four years? No one. Some people are kissed by fortune at birth, while others are kissed by bad luck. Brianna definitely falls into the latter category.

When my mind-link request had been ignored by my parents for the twentieth time, I went to the Werewolf Council, clutching the report on silver dust corrosion in my hand. “Hello. I’d like to renounce my pack identity—effective immediately.” Ten minutes later, my parents burst in, dragging my adoptive younger sister, Elsa, with them, panic written all over their faces. The door burst open with a bang, and my Beta father charged in like a storm. His fangs bared, claws twitching. “You’re nothing but a spoiled brat craving attention! Stop this pathetic act. You’re an embarrassment to a Beta’s name!” My mother, a forensic specialist for the pack, immediately snatched the report from my hand. After a brief glance, she let out a cold sneer. “You faked this report just to get our attention? You’ve been a liar since you were a pup.” Elsa clung to both of them, tears in her eyes as she sobbed, “I’m sorry, Jenifer. It’s my fault for holding the shifting ritual. But please... don’t lie to our parents just to make them feel guilty!” Blood was still pouring from my nose, but I wiped it away calmly and stood tall before the werewolf councilors once more. “I haven’t had a real family for a long time. Please—remove all my personal records from the pack. I just don’t want my funeral—scheduled for three days from now—to be delayed.”

"You can't have all three Alpha's to yourself." They said. I smirked and made All three mine. I never expected this transmigrating into the world of my favorite BL novel where I suddenly find myself in the shoes of a character caught between three hot, powerful alpha wolves. The original MC chose one—one out of the three. I always hated that. They were all perfect in their own right. Why should I choose just one when I can have them all? Now, in this new life, I’m determined to rewrite fate. No longer bound by the rules of the story I knew so well, I’m here to change the game. The three alphas. Cayden, Ryan, and Levi are mine to claim. I’m not going to let fate limit me to one. I’m going to make them all fall for me. I’m going to make them realize they all want me too. And once they do, I’ll have my pick... but not just one. The thing is, it's not as easy as it looked as staying in a body that's not yours is hard to maintain and what will happen when the owner wants his body back? There are challenges, enemies, and secrets lurking in the shadows, and I have to stay one step ahead. If I’m going to get all three of them, I’ll need to play my cards carefully. The pressure of the whole world watching only adds to the weight on my shoulders.. I want them all..Every single one of them. I won’t stop until they’re mine, and I’m theirs.

Dominic Langdon, a gang boss, is about to host his birthday banquet soon. He specifically tells everyone that he wants bluefin tuna and premium abalone as the grandest dish in his banquet. That seafood comes to a total of 80 thousand dollars. But my uncle, Steve Cutterson, gives me 800 dollars and tells me to carry out the task. I head toward the garbage dump of the farmers' market immediately. Soon, I return with a cartload of canned sardines and crayfish. After calculating the transportation costs, it comes to a total of 800 dollars. When the cheap-looking seafood is served, Dominic is so pissed that he flips the table on the spot. "How dare you pocket my money! You must have a death wish!" Steve quickly makes me the scapegoat. "Mr. Langdon, Caleb is the one who bought the seafood! He must have embezzled your money! Caleb, you'd better grovel to Mr. Langdon and pay him back right now!" I just show everyone the magnified version of the transfer record of 800 dollars with a stony expression. "Take a good look, Uncle Steve. Do you really think you can afford bluefin tuna with just 800 dollars? Did Mr. Langdon give you the money purely out of charity purposes?"

Throughout my seven years of living in this residential area, I've been helping my neighbors receive their parcels and babysit their children no matter how sudden the requests are. All sorts of delivered goods have gone through my hands, be it tiny regular parcels, special deliveries containing raw seafood, or furniture and electrical appliances. My motto is that close-knitted neighbors are more dependable rather than my family, who lives very far away from me. That's why I never hesitate to lend a helping hand as long as the circumstances permit me to do so. In fact, I often deliver everyone's parcels to their units. But one day, Carmen Webber, a young woman who has just moved into the apartment, brings this topic up during a casual chit-chat with the other neighbors. "Nowadays, the parcel lockers and the parcel pickup points are very convenient to use. There's absolutely no need to specifically get someone to sign your parcels for you. Could it be that Hilary is using the guise of doing things for everyone just to make some quick bucks under the table? "After all, those who accept parcels on behalf of others tend to get paid. You guys must have slipped her some money every time you drop by her place to pick up your stuff, right? Imagine how lucrative business must be for her!" Carmen then shoots me a glance, mockery dripping from her tone. The neighbors just swap looks with each other. Then, they turn their suspicious gazes to me. That's when Carmen adds, "Next time, you can seek me out when you need someone to accept parcels and babysit children for you. I have a lot of free time on my hands, and I promise that I won't earn a single cent from you guys!" My heart goes stone cold when I listen to everyone else agreeing with Carmen. Over the past seven years, I'm the one paying for everything, be it opening my door in the middle of the night to accept a delivery, babysitting children for others, or making up for the lost packages and the spoiled seafood. Not only do I not earn a single cent, but I've also lost quite a huge amount of money. On top of that, many of my plans get delayed or rescheduled, too. Since Carmen wants to be the good Samaritan this badly, I might as well let her take over all these troublesome and thankless matters from now on.

My mother-in-law was somehow allergic to me. As long as I was in the house, her skin would break out in rashes, and she would struggle to breathe. The hospital could not find any specific allergen. They said it might be something to do with my scent. To give his mother some relief, my husband Keith asked me to stay in a hotel every weekend. I quietly packed away everything that was mine. I even stopped wearing my favorite perfume just so I could stay home for one extra day. However, her condition only grew worse. The days I was allowed to be home dropped from five days a week to three, and eventually to just one. I never complained. I only hoped she would get better soon. One day, I left work early to pick up a document from home. I heard laughter from inside the house. "Mom, your trick really works! Every time you cough, my brother kicks that woman out." It was Keith's god-sister Caroline, who had studied abroad. My mother-in-law laughed smugly. "Caroline, you're the best. You can cook, and you give great massages. You're nothing like that useless block of wood who's always in the way. "Keith, hurry up and marry Caroline already. Get rid of that woman!" Keith's voice was full of indulgence. "Mom, don't say things like that. Caroline, look at the perfume I bought you. You've worked hard lately." All strength left my body as I stood frozen at the door.