Dead Women Don't Sprint
By @john1208
The story opens with Corenza waking up mid-sprint, dodging syndicate assassins in the neon-lit alleys of Pelagosa. She didn’t want to be a reborn mastermind; she just wanted a nap. But after her cheating husband, Morovan, tricked her into signing away her syndicate shares and locked her in their burning estate, her peaceful retirement went up in flames. Too lazy to orchestrate a complex, labor-intensive assassination, the tactical genius opts for the path of least resistance: publicly 'seducing' Morovan’s worst enemy, the ruthless kingpin Davorin, who owes her a past-life favor. Told in alternating third-person perspectives, the story balances Corenza’s deadpan, couch-bound plotting with Davorin’s high-stress, action-packed execution. Their fake, hyper-visible romance is a weapon, drawing fire while they orchestrate the live-TV exposure of Morovan’s mistress as a prolific serial scammer. But Corenza soon realizes she misunderstood the rules of her rebirth: she is soul-tethered to Morovan. If he dies, her second life ends instantly. How can this strictly platonic power duo utterly obliterate a syndicate boss's life when they are forced to become his reluctant bodyguards?
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The Celluloid Winter
By @john1208
I died in the snow, locked out of our estate in the bitter cold while my husband Tullio kept his mistress warm by our hearth. Now I am back, and I have learned exactly how to smile. High society thinks I am just the dizzy, cheerful Roscuro heiress, but beneath my endless giggles lies a meticulously crafted blueprint for ruin. I sit in a smoky tavern, sliding a contract across the table to Ignazio Morante - the ruthless king of the Ondanza slums, who owes me his life. We form an unstoppable duo, though our bond is forged in shared vengeance rather than love; I have sworn off romance for good. First, we will expose his mistress’s fake pregnancy at the lavish Winter Banquet. Then, when Tullio attempts to salvage his reputation with a grand, hurried wedding, my flamboyant projectionist will cast a film reel of Tullio's darkest sins across the cathedral's vaulted ceiling. Tullio only let me freeze because he falsely believed I carried a plague that would kill his sickly sister, but betrayal is still betrayal. Will the truth of his tragic choice extinguish my fiery revenge, or will I let him freeze in the bed he made?
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