

To investigate an underground casino, journalist Waldron is betrayed and killed by its manager, Samuel. Three years later, his daughter Winona, now a master card cheat, infiltrates Samuel's casino to save her aunt from gambling addiction and hunt down her father's killer.
![[ENG DUB] Sorry, I Don't Do Tragic Endings Anymore](https://acfs3.goodshort.com/dist/src/assets/images/pc/common/f901131c-default-book-cover.png)
Zoey Shaw wakes up inside a novel as the infamous villainess doomed to a tragic end.Refusing to follow the same path, she decides to rewrite her fate—no self-destruction, no foolish choices, just survival and a new beginning. When a shameless ex and a scheming rival show up to cause trouble, she’s ready. This time, she protects her husband, claims her happiness, and crushes every plot against her. She clears her family’s name and rises from ruin to glory.

After his first love died, Oscar hated me for ten years. I tried everything to soften him. Nothing worked. "If you really want to please me, go die." The words cut deep. But when the riot came, he threw himself in front of me and was hacked down where he stood. He stared at me as he bled out. "If only… my fated mate hadn't been you." At his funeral, his parents wept. "We should have let him be with Catherine. We forced him to marry her, all because of that damn prophecy." Windvale Pack lived by prophecy. Years ago, the Seer had foretold that if Oscar didn't take his fated mate as his bond-mate, disaster would fall on the pack. I was that fated mate. But now, everyone wished I never had been. Even me. I was driven from the funeral, hollow. Then the Moon Goddess descended. She offered me a chance—ten years back—on two conditions. I would not become Oscar's mate. I would prevent Catherine's death. I said yes without thinking.

After his first love died, Oscar hated me for ten years. I tried everything to soften him. Nothing worked. "If you really want to please me, go die." The words cut deep. But when the riot came, he threw himself in front of me and was hacked down where he stood. He stared at me as he bled out. "If only… my fated mate hadn't been you." At his funeral, his parents wept. "We should have let him be with Catherine. We forced him to marry her, all because of that damn prophecy." Windvale Pack lived by prophecy. Years ago, the Seer had foretold that if Oscar didn't take his fated mate as his bond-mate, disaster would fall on the pack. I was that fated mate. But now, everyone wished I never had been. Even me. I was driven from the funeral, hollow. Then the Moon Goddess descended. She offered me a chance—ten years back—on two conditions. I would not become Oscar's mate. I would prevent Catherine's death. I said yes without thinking.

The year I was reborn was the year the vampire war began. The first thing I did was get rid of the pup. My mate's pup. Alpha Lucas's. In my last life, he covered for his childhood friend, Sarah, when she mated a vampire. He took my pure-blood pup and swapped him with her half-breed bastard. They branded me a traitor. Tortured me to death in a silver dungeon. And my own son, brainwashed by Sarah, stood over my corpse and told me to rot in hell. When I opened my eyes again, I was three months pregnant. I didn't hesitate. I walked straight to the witch's hut and drank the poison she gave me. But as the life drained away, I uncorked another bottle: an expensive Mimic Potion. It fakes a pup's heartbeat. It gives off the scent of an expecting mother. Lucas wants a child to take the fall for Sarah's crime. Fine. I'll give him a show. This time, I have no weakness.

At a remote psychiatric hospital, the most dangerous patient, Chaim Potter, passes his 144th evaluation and is released. What no one knows is that he’s never recovered—he still sees visions of his murdered fiancee, Keira Kennedy, sometimes as an angel, sometimes as a demon, urging him to take revenge. Four years ago, on the day he’d planned to propose,Keira was brutally assaulted and killed. He arrived just in time to see four perpetrators laughing as they walked away. Now free, with his loyal butler Devon Walsh having prepared everything, Chaim targets the wedding of Walter Hart and Zoie Mckay. He brutally attacks Felix Lindsey, one of the groomsmen and perpetrators, and has him dropped onto the wedding venue as his body rains down with funeral money printed with details of Keira’s death. Walter, Zoie, and bridesmaid Anna Pearson immediately realize: a calculated revenge has begun.

I died on the day I was supposed to receive the Pack’s Distinguished Service Award. Three hours after I died, my parents, my brother, and my mate were just wrapping up the graduation party they’d thrown for my sister. While my sister, Ella, was posting a cozy family photo on Instagram, I was locked in our basement, using my tongue to swipe on my phone and call for help. The only person who answered was my mate, Ryan. All he said was, "Sophie, cut the drama. Ella's graduation party is important. Enough with the tantrums!" This was the ninety-ninth time they had let me down. And the last. I lay in a pool of my own blood, my lungs still. They thought I was just throwing a fit, hiding somewhere. That if they taught me a lesson, I’d come crawling back. But they didn't know. I was home the whole time. I was already dead.

I went to pick up my three-year-old son from preschool, only to run into a man who had snapped and started attacking people with a knife. To protect my son, I took more than a dozen stab wounds and collapsed in a pool of blood. Ethan Lawson had the attacker taken to the police station and brought in the best medical team to save us. Before I was wheeled into surgery, I anxiously asked how my son was doing. But Ethan’s eyes were red as he told me our son had lost too much blood. He had stopped breathing on the way to the hospital. The grief hit me so hard that I passed out. I forgot to tell them I was resistant to anesthesia. When I had just barely regained consciousness, I heard Ethan speaking with the doctor. “Mr. Lawson, he could have been saved. Why did you give up on resuscitation? He was your biological son. He was only three years old.” “I never planned to let him live,” Ethan said coldly. “His birth was a mistake from the start. And now he dared to ask me for a birthday present? What, was he trying to claim inheritance rights to the company?” “Vivian’s child and mine will turn eighteen soon. I promised her I’d give the company to our child as a coming-of-age gift. I won’t let anyone compete with him for it.” So the marriage I had thought was happy had been nothing but hell all along. Fine. If that was what they wanted, I would give it to them.