MY CHOICE OF JEWEL
Molly was once the most feared underworld princess, a ruthless hacker who could burn empires with a few keystrokes. But betrayal claimed her life in flames, until fate gave her a second chance.
She wakes up in the fragile body of another Molly, this one a disgraced pop idol, mocked by the media and abandoned by fans. With sharp instincts, a predator's patience, and her past life's cunning, Molly vows to rebuild this new life on her own terms. No more weakness. No more humiliation.
But walking this path means crossing Kelvin Brass, the cold, calculating CEO who never believed in her, and who now finds himself intrigued by her sudden transformation. The world expects the same washed-up starlet. Instead, they see a woman reborn, sharper than before, deadlier than they could ever imagine.
As Molly steps back into the entertainment world, every move shocks those around her. With a mind built for war and survival, she turns stages into battlegrounds, scandals into weapons, and rivals into stepping stones. But even she can't deny the pull of Kelvin Brass, whether as an enemy, an ally, or something dangerously in between.
In a city of lights and lies, Molly must master her double life: an idol rising from ashes by day, and a shadow of her old underworld self by night. One thing is certain, anyone who underestimates her will regret it.
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Chapter 3
MOLLY'S POV
The room emptied quickly after his arrival, as if his presence alone pushed the air out of everyone's lungs. Within minutes, only Kelvin and I remained.
He studied me in silence, hands tucked into his pockets, a man carved from stillness and command. The longer he stared, the more I sensed it, he wasn't here just out of curiosity. He was measuring me.
"You really aren't the same girl," he said at last.
I tilted my head. "And is that a problem?"
His eyes narrowed slightly, the faintest edge of danger slicing through the calm. "It depends. If you plan to return to your old habits, humiliating yourself and chasing after my brother..." His voice dropped, colder than ice. "Then it is."
I almost laughed. So this was it, the infamous Jin Liwei, delivering a warning to the woman I now inhabited.
"Don't worry," I said, my lips curving. "I have no intention of chasing anyone. Least of all your brother."
Something flickered across his face. Not relief, not irritation, something harder to read.
He stepped closer, and I resisted the instinct to move back. His shadow fell over me, commanding, suffocating. "Then remember this, Miss Molly," he said softly, lethally. "In this city, every move you make is watched. Don't step where you can't survive."
I held his gaze, refusing to look away. My voice came out calm, almost mocking. "Survival has always been my specialty."
The silence between us crackled. For a heartbeat, I thought he might smile. Instead, he turned, his coat shifting with quiet elegance.
"Good," he murmured. And just like that, he walked away, leaving me standing there with my pulse racing.
I pressed a hand against my chest, my lips curling in a smirk.
So the devil himself decided to warn me. Interesting.
If he thought I'd be intimidated, he was wrong.
This was my second life. And I intended to play it by my rules, devils included.
The news of my "miraculous awakening" spread faster than wildfire. By the time I was discharged, reporters were already camping outside the hospital, hungry for a scandal.
In the past, the old Molly would have loved this posing dramatically, shouting for attention, giving them something ridiculous to gossip about.
But I wasn't her.
The moment I stepped outside, microphones and flashing lights swarmed me. Questions flew like arrows.
"Miss Molly, how does it feel to wake up after a year?"
"Will you continue your music career?"
"Are the rumors about your mental health true?"
I adjusted the sunglasses on my face and walked straight past them. Not a single word. Not a single glance. Just silence.
The crowd gasped. Silence was something Molly had never given them.
I could hear the whispers already.
"She didn't even yell?"
"She looked... calm."
"Is that really Molly?"
Good. "Let them doubt", I said to myself.
At home, the shock continued. The staff stiffened when I entered, waiting for tantrums, insults, maybe a wine glass thrown across the room. Instead, I simply said, "Thank you for taking care of the place," as I walked upstairs.
Their mouths fell open.
I almost laughed. Did they really think I'd waste my second life on screaming matches with maids?
In the mirror of my new bedroom, I studied myself again. The soft face. The delicate frame. The image of a spoiled child. But behind the eyes, there was me, harder, sharper, untamed.
They all thought Molly is back from a coma. No. She is gone.
Soon, everyone would realize that the woman standing in her place is someone entirely different.
I touched the glass, my reflection smirking back.
"My first step," I whispered. "Now watch me walk."
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7.4
Becoming a bride to settle a debt was never part of my dreams.
Yet, my stepbrother's betrayal and a trap party turned my life upside down, shattering my illusions of a joyful marriage. Now, I'm faced with the harsh reality of being married to a ruthless Mafia boss, Alessio Marino.
Can I trust his promises, or will my situation be worse than the abuse I endured from my stepbrother?
With love stripped from my wedding vows, all I can do is cling to hope for God's mercy and summon the strength to navigate this perilous new life.
8.8
Fleeing shadows in the hallway, Adrian Vale knew betrayal came from those closest. A fortune inherited meant little when blood turned cold. Last breaths tasted of lies whispered at dinner. Trust shattered like glass underfoot. Murder arrived wearing a familiar smile.
Yet his eyes opened somewhere beyond belief.
Beneath the quiet of her body.
Everything still there inside his head - Adrian suddenly sees it clearly, a deep dread rising
Some who killed him walk free today, holding influence, their plans against his kin far from finished.
This moment changes everything - he'll learn each hidden truth as he gets older.
Right away, life unfolds differently for Adrian - quietly shifting odds, pulling people close, growing stronger where no one sees. A fight without sound starts at his first breath.
Becoming clear to everyone, that moment shifts everything...
By then, chances are gone.
9.4
I married Alistair Montgomery out of duty, enduring five years of his coldness and his mother stealing my son, hoping my love would eventually warm his heart.
Then, his "dead" first love, Cordelia, returned.
The second he heard her voice on the phone, he ordered me out of his car on a deserted dirt road and left me in the dust to rush to her side.
She faked a suicide attempt and framed me. Alistair didn't even give me a chance to explain.
"If she doesn't survive this, I will destroy you."
He roared those words over the phone, openly declaring he would spend the night guarding her hospital bed.
The very next day, Cordelia's secret son publicly attacked me and my child at the kindergarten gates, pointing at me and screaming that I was a thief who stole his father.
For five years, I swallowed my pride and let his family strip me of my dignity, only to realize I was nothing but a temporary placeholder for a ghost.
He actually thought he could just toss me the empty title of "wife" while giving his heart and his nights to another woman.
I finally woke up from this pathetic joke.
I didn't shed another tear or beg him to look at me.
Instead, I calmly opened my tablet and searched for the most ruthless divorce lawyer in New York.
The war was about to begin.
9.2
Chelsi was down to her last fourteen dollars. After a humiliating job rejection for being "too low-class," the threat of eviction forced her to try live-streaming. Terrified of her exhausted, tear-stained face, she cranked the AR beauty filter to the max, morphing into a bizarre plastic alien.
She was immediately dragged into a forced streaming battle with Kamron, the platform's most arrogant top streamer. Seeing her distorted filter, Kamron sneered, unleashing fifty thousand fans to flood her chat with toxic insults.
Kamron set a ruthless penalty for her inevitable loss.
"You're going to take a bar of soap, scrub your face completely clean, and shove your bare face right into the camera."
Desperate to keep the fifty dollars she had just earned for rent, Chelsi begged for a different punishment, but Kamron coldly refused. With her heart pounding, she walked to the freezing bathroom, her hands shaking as she scrubbed her skin raw, bracing for the cyberbullying.
She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling utterly humiliated by the cruelty of the internet. Why did she have to be stripped of her dignity just to survive? She clicked off the filter, waiting for the tidal wave of disgust to destroy her.
But the insults never came. The high-definition camera revealed a breathtakingly delicate, flawless face that no algorithm could ever replicate. The chat went dead silent, Kamron was so stunned he dropped a ten-thousand-dollar virtual yacht, and a silent war between two mysterious billionaires was about to begin.
7.7
Alondra woke up choking on synthetic drugs, pinned to a mattress by a massive, sweating VIP guest.
Her adoptive family, the Franks, had deliberately drugged her and offered her as a plaything to secure a ten-million-dollar financing deal.
The sheer terror and humiliation had already killed the original owner of this body.
When the VIP was left screaming on the floor, her adoptive mother and sister didn't care about what she had just endured.
They shrieked that she had ruined their wealth and destroyed their future.
Her adoptive father threw a cheap prepaid card onto the Persian rug like he was feeding a stray dog.
"Take this five hundred dollars and crawl back to the trailer park where you belong!"
They ordered their bodyguards to drag her out by her hair, mocking her as uneducated white trash who would rot in the slums.
The original girl had died in absolute despair, believing she was worthless and unloved.
She never knew she was actually the true biological heir to the Kerr family, the untouchable dynasty that practically owned Wall Street.
But the soul that had just awakened in this fragile body was no longer a weak victim.
It was the soul of a centuries-old European medical assassin.
Alondra calmly shattered the bodyguard's wrist, exposed the Franks' impending bankruptcy, and walked out the front door.
Outside in the cold night, a fleet of bulletproof Maybachs was already waiting to take the real princess home.
9.4
I was bleeding out on the cold ER table, my body failing, while the hospital’s blood bank sat empty.
My husband, Clayton, stood just outside the glass doors, watching me die with the terrifying indifference of a man deciding on dinner.
When the doctor begged him to sign the transfusion consent form to save my life, he didn't hesitate. He took the pen, slashed his signature across the Refusal of Treatment form, and turned his back on me to answer a call from the woman he truly loved.
As my heart monitor flatlined into a long, piercing scream, I watched him walk away to comfort his mistress over a thunderstorm, leaving his legal wife to rot in a body bag.
I was nothing to him—a vicious, disposable obstacle in his perfect world—and he ensured I left with absolutely nothing, freezing my accounts and cutting off my life.
But he made one fatal mistake: he left me alive.
I survived, and as I lay in the dark, the pathetic flame of my love for him snapped and died, replaced by a cold, broken promise.
If I survived this night, I would make sure he bled for every second of the hell he put me through.
I ripped the IV from my arm, stood up on my prosthetic leg, and walked out to start my war.