

On our seventh wedding anniversary, I was straddling my Mafia husband, Lucian, kissing him deeply. My fingers fumbled in the pocket of my expensive silk dress, searching for the pregnancy test I'd hidden there. I wanted to save the news of my unexpected pregnancy for the end of the evening. Lucian's right-hand man, Marco, asked with a suggestive smile in Italian: "Don, your new little canary, Sophia. How does she taste?" Lucian's mocking laughter vibrated through my chest, sending a chill down my spine. He replied, also in Italian: "Like an unripe peach. Fresh and tender." His hand was still caressing my waist, but his gaze was distant. "Just keep this between us. If my Donna finds out, I'm a dead man." His men chuckled knowingly, raising their glasses and swearing their silence. The warmth in my blood turned to ice, inch by inch. The one thing they didn’t know was that my grandmother was from Sicily, so I understood every word. I forced myself to remain calm, keeping the perfect smile of a Donna fixed in place, but the hand holding my champagne flute trembled. Instead of making a scene, I opened my phone, found the invitation I had received a few days ago for a private international medical research project, and tapped "Accept." In three days, I would disappear from Lucian's world completely.

On our seventh wedding anniversary, I was straddling my Mafia husband, Lucian, kissing him deeply. My fingers fumbled in the pocket of my expensive silk dress, searching for the pregnancy test I'd hidden there. I wanted to save the news of my unexpected pregnancy for the end of the evening. Lucian's right-hand man, Marco, asked with a suggestive smile in Italian: "Don, your new little canary, Sophia. How does she taste?" Lucian's mocking laughter vibrated through my chest, sending a chill down my spine. He replied, also in Italian: "Like an unripe peach. Fresh and tender." His hand was still caressing my waist, but his gaze was distant. "Just keep this between us. If my Donna finds out, I'm a dead man." His men chuckled knowingly, raising their glasses and swearing their silence. The warmth in my blood turned to ice, inch by inch. The one thing they didn’t know was that my grandmother was from Sicily, so I understood every word. I forced myself to remain calm, keeping the perfect smile of a Donna fixed in place, but the hand holding my champagne flute trembled. Instead of making a scene, I opened my phone, found the invitation I had received a few days ago for a private international medical research project, and tapped "Accept." In three days, I would disappear from Lucian's world completely.

On our seventh wedding anniversary, I was straddling my Mafia husband, Lucian, kissing him deeply. My fingers fumbled in the pocket of my expensive silk dress, searching for the pregnancy test I'd hidden there. I wanted to save the news of my unexpected pregnancy for the end of the evening. Lucian's right-hand man, Marco, asked with a suggestive smile in Italian: "Don, your new little canary, Sophia. How does she taste?" Lucian's mocking laughter vibrated through my chest, sending a chill down my spine. He replied, also in Italian: "Like an unripe peach. Fresh and tender." His hand was still caressing my waist, but his gaze was distant. "Just keep this between us. If my Donna finds out, I'm a dead man." His men chuckled knowingly, raising their glasses and swearing their silence. The warmth in my blood turned to ice, inch by inch. The one thing they didn’t know was that my grandmother was from Sicily, so I understood every word. I forced myself to remain calm, keeping the perfect smile of a Donna fixed in place, but the hand holding my champagne flute trembled. Instead of making a scene, I opened my phone, found the invitation I had received a few days ago for a private international medical research project, and tapped "Accept." In three days, I would disappear from Lucian's world completely.

"In our tenth year together, the King of the Gods, Aetheon, threw the grandest wedding I had ever seen on the peak of Mount Olympus. And at the ceremony itself, he calmly told me he had cheated on me. ""Go on with the rite, or stop it right now. It's your call."" He swirled the wine in his cup, bored. He told me that just before the ceremony began, he had sex with a mortal girl. The world went cold around me. I stared up at the king standing high above me. ""Do you love her that much?"" His brow creased slightly, as if he thought I was making too much of it. ""Not really. She's a fragile little mortal, nothing more."" ""You've just been so proper, so well-behaved these past ten years. Never a flaw I could find. It was interesting, for once, to be adored by someone who didn't know any better."" He turned the thunder ring on his finger as if none of it mattered. ""Don't worry. If you choose to go through with the ceremony, you'll still be my queen—no question. And if you want to throw a fit about it, fine. Throw your fit. I won't stop you."" I stood frozen on the altar platform. I had waited ten years for this day. And now the perfect ceremony in front of me pressed down on my chest until I couldn't breathe."

"Seventeen‑year‑old Stella, a free‑spirited and wild small‑town girl, moves into a strictly regulated luxury mansion after her mother remarries into a wealthy coastal family, where she meets Vincent, her nominal step‑brother. Twenty‑year‑old Vincent is the picture‑perfect elite heir, yet behind closed doors he dominates the top‑tier competitive surfing circle. Cool‑tongued, sharp‑witted, possessive and starved for affection, the two clash fiercely upon their first meeting. As they live under the same roof, quiet curiosity and growing fondness bloom between them. Vincent is all bark but soft‑hearted: he teases and taunts Stella verbally, yet fiercely protects her in every way. Defiant on the surface, Stella gradually falls for his exclusive affection. When Stella hits rock bottom after being betrayed by both her friend and lover, only Vincent stays by her side, quietly pulling her through despair. At a surfing competition, Vincent is injured by underhanded tricks from rivals. Stella steps up and pulls off an against‑all‑odds victory to safeguard his honor. Later, Vincent takes grave risks to shield her amid conflict. The barriers between them finally crumble, and their chemistry ignites. Defying the forbidden bond as nominal step‑siblings, they embark on a secret romance — distant in public, intensely intimate in private."

On our seventh wedding anniversary, I was straddling my Mafia husband, Lucian, kissing him deeply. My fingers fumbled in the pocket of my expensive silk dress, searching for the pregnancy test I'd hidden there. I wanted to save the news of my unexpected pregnancy for the end of the evening. Lucian's right-hand man, Marco, asked with a suggestive smile in Italian: "Don, your new little canary, Sophia. How does she taste?" Lucian's mocking laughter vibrated through my chest, sending a chill down my spine. He replied, also in Italian: "Like an unripe peach. Fresh and tender." His hand was still caressing my waist, but his gaze was distant. "Just keep this between us. If my Donna finds out, I'm a dead man." His men chuckled knowingly, raising their glasses and swearing their silence. The warmth in my blood turned to ice, inch by inch. The one thing they didn’t know was that my grandmother was from Sicily, so I understood every word. I forced myself to remain calm, keeping the perfect smile of a Donna fixed in place, but the hand holding my champagne flute trembled. Instead of making a scene, I opened my phone, found the invitation I had received a few days ago for a private international medical research project, and tapped "Accept." In three days, I would disappear from Lucian's world completely.

"My husband, Victor Shaw, once asked me to have my uterus removed so we could stay child-free together. Ten years later, he brought home a pair of adopted twins, a boy and a girl, and told me to raise them well. I said yes. From that day on, I devoted myself to those two children. When they turned eighteen, they were accepted into the most prestigious universities in the country. At their graduation party, Victor handed me a property transfer agreement and asked me to put all my assets in the twins’ names. I agreed. Just as I picked up the pen to sign, my mother pulled me aside, her face full of worry. “Lana, those two children came out of nowhere. You can’t hand your entire fortune over to them.” I said calmly, “Mom, I trust my own judgment.” My mother broke down and dropped to her knees, begging me not to be a fool. When my father realized he couldn’t talk me out of it, he slapped me across the face in fury. “You stupid woman. You’re going to ruin this family.” Then he stormed out and slammed the door behind him. I signed my name. Victor burst into satisfied laughter. Then he affectionately wrapped his arm around another woman’s waist. The woman tossed a divorce agreement at me. “Lana Grant, thank you for taking care of Victor and our children all these years. Now it’s time for you to give them back to me so our family of four can finally be reunited.” I smiled faintly. “Of course.”"

Don't move. Your dress isn't on properly." Alpha Leo Stonewell lifted a hand to adjust my ceremonial gown. But the next second, the words that came out of his mouth sent a chill down my spine. "Layla, let Lilith wear this dress instead. Don't show up at our marking ceremony on the night of the full moon. She'll take your place then." I looked up immediately. "Have you lost your mind?" He sighed softly as if to suggest I was being unreasonable. "Lilith is just an Omega in the pack. I can't bear to let her stay with me without a rightful title. Tomorrow, I'll officially mark her during the ceremony." The northern wind sliced across my face. It felt bitterly cold, but it could hardly compare to the freezing ache in my chest. "We're supposed to become mates tomorrow. If you're going to mark her, then what did the past ten years between us even mean?" Leo frowned. Impatience crept into his voice. "Your wolf spirit has been dormant all this time. To the other werewolves in the pack, you're no different from an Omega. Layla, don't worry. Even if I mark her, I'll still take care of you for the rest of your life. Let her have this marking ceremony. Lilith is young and beautiful. She can't handle being wronged." My face slowly drained of color. If this Alpha thought I wasn't as young or beautiful as Lilith Lambert, then I didn't want him as my mate either

"Don't move. Your dress isn't on properly." Alpha Leo Stonewell lifted a hand to adjust my ceremonial gown. But the next second, the words that came out of his mouth sent a chill down my spine. "Layla, let Lilith wear this dress instead. Don't show up at our marking ceremony on the night of the full moon. She'll take your place then." I looked up immediately. "Have you lost your mind?" He sighed softly as if to suggest I was being unreasonable. "Lilith is just an Omega in the pack. I can't bear to let her stay with me without a rightful title. Tomorrow, I'll officially mark her during the ceremony." The northern wind sliced across my face. It felt bitterly cold, but it could hardly compare to the freezing ache in my chest. "We're supposed to become mates tomorrow. If you're going to mark her, then what did the past ten years between us even mean?" Leo frowned. Impatience crept into his voice. "Your wolf spirit has been dormant all this time. To the other werewolves in the pack, you're no different from an Omega. Layla, don't worry. Even if I mark her, I'll still take care of you for the rest of your life. Let her have this marking ceremony. Lilith is young and beautiful. She can't handle being wronged." My face slowly drained of color. If this Alpha thought I wasn't as young or beautiful as Lilith Lambert, then I didn't want him as my mate either.

My childhood sweetheart, Samuel Burton, once promises that he will marry me the moment we graduate from college. But on our wedding day, he shows up late. When we finally find him, he's tangled in bed with my stepsister, Vivian Holcomb, in a hotel room. In front of everyone, Ethan Fuller, the heir to the wealthiest family, steps forward and boldly declares that I am the one he has secretly loved for years. Five years into our marriage, he remembers every little thing I say, and I truly believe I am the person he cares about most. Until one day, when I'm doing housework and accidentally find a confidential folder hidden deep in his desk drawer. The very first page is Vivian's resume. On it is his own handwriting. He has written, "Priority. Above everything else." Behind it is a hospital operations report I have never seen before. The date matches the night of my car accident. I was rushed to a hospital owned by Fuller Group, yet no surgeon ever came. By the time I woke up, the baby I'm carrying was gone because I had lost too much blood. I cried in Ethan's arms until my voice broke, but I never told him the full truth. I didn't want him to worry even more. But now I finally know. Vivian was also injured that night, and the order Ethan sent to the hospital was— "Pull every specialist available. Treat Vivian first." My tears soak into the page, blurring the ink. "If I'm not your top priority, I'll disappear from your life then."

I was reborn on the night the Alpha lost control to dark magic, his heat spiraling out of his grasp. This time, I didn't become his remedy. Instead, I called his true love—my own sister. In my past life, I fell in love with Nicholas, the Alpha of our pack. When I learned he'd been cursed by ancient dark magic and couldn't control his heat, I made a choice I shouldn't have. I didn't push him away. A month later, I found out I was pregnant. As an Alpha, Nicholas needed an heir. The Council of Elders forced him to hold a marking ceremony with me. On the day of the ceremony, Leah couldn't accept it. She ran from pack territory. Rogue wolves attacked her. Before she died, Leah sent Nicholas ninety-nine distress signals through the mind-link. But Nicholas was in the middle of the marking ceremony—at my request—and never answered. Not once. Afterward, when the pack brought back what was left of Leah's body, his face remained eerily calm. But on the night of our pup's first full moon, he poisoned me with wolfsbane. Before I died, I heard his voice, cold as ice. "If you hadn't gotten pregnant, I wouldn't have been forced to mark you. I wouldn't have missed Leah's call for help. Her death is on you. And you're going to pay for it." When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the night Nicholas fell victim to the curse.

After my fiance’s childhood friend found out I was born with a heart condition, she secretly poured a high-dose energy drink into my champagne. The moment I drank it, my heart started racing, and stabbing pain spread through my chest. In a panic, I tore open my only emergency medication, but the water I used to take it had been swapped with strong lemon water. As soon as I drank it, my face went pale. I lost all strength and collapsed to the ground. “Lemon water’s full of vitamin C. It helps with hangovers and keeps you healthy.” Charlotte Whitmore laughed so hard she nearly doubled over. With her arms crossed, she looked at my fiance, Ethan Cross, the boss of the Rolling Stones. “Ethan, your fiancee’s acting is incredible! “I’ve been a doctor for years, and I’ve never seen anyone react like this to a little champagne and lemon water.” I bit my lip until I tasted blood. The pain made my eyes sting, and I clutched Ethan’s leg. “Honey, please, call an ambulance! I can’t take it anymore…” For a moment, his expression wavered, but the guests quickly cut in. “Come on, stop pretending! Nobody dies from a bit of champagne and lemon water.” “Yeah, you’re just jealous Charlotte got promoted and didn’t want to toast to her.” Ethan’s face turned cold again. He yanked my hand off and stepped away. “Charlotte’s a doctor. You’ll be fine with her here.” I stopped begging and texted my father asking for help

"My husband, Victor Shaw, once asked me to have my uterus removed so we could stay child-free together. Ten years later, he brought home a pair of adopted twins, a boy and a girl, and told me to raise them well. I said yes. From that day on, I devoted myself to those two children. When they turned eighteen, they were accepted into the most prestigious universities in the country. At their graduation party, Victor handed me a property transfer agreement and asked me to put all my assets in the twins’ names. I agreed. Just as I picked up the pen to sign, my mother pulled me aside, her face full of worry. “Lana, those two children came out of nowhere. You can’t hand your entire fortune over to them.” I said calmly, “Mom, I trust my own judgment.” My mother broke down and dropped to her knees, begging me not to be a fool. When my father realized he couldn’t talk me out of it, he slapped me across the face in fury. “You stupid woman. You’re going to ruin this family.” Then he stormed out and slammed the door behind him. I signed my name. Victor burst into satisfied laughter. Then he affectionately wrapped his arm around another woman’s waist. The woman tossed a divorce agreement at me. “Lana Grant, thank you for taking care of Victor and our children all these years. Now it’s time for you to give them back to me so our family of four can finally be reunited.” I smiled faintly. “Of course.”"

After my fiance’s childhood friend found out I was born with a heart condition, she secretly poured a high-dose energy drink into my champagne. The moment I drank it, my heart started racing, and stabbing pain spread through my chest. In a panic, I tore open my only emergency medication, but the water I used to take it had been swapped with strong lemon water. As soon as I drank it, my face went pale. I lost all strength and collapsed to the ground. “Lemon water’s full of vitamin C. It helps with hangovers and keeps you healthy.” Charlotte Whitmore laughed so hard she nearly doubled over. With her arms crossed, she looked at my fiance, Ethan Cross, the boss of the Rolling Stones. “Ethan, your fiancee’s acting is incredible! “I’ve been a doctor for years, and I’ve never seen anyone react like this to a little champagne and lemon water.” I bit my lip until I tasted blood. The pain made my eyes sting, and I clutched Ethan’s leg. “Honey, please, call an ambulance! I can’t take it anymore…” For a moment, his expression wavered, but the guests quickly cut in. “Come on, stop pretending! Nobody dies from a bit of champagne and lemon water.” “Yeah, you’re just jealous Charlotte got promoted and didn’t want to toast to her.” Ethan’s face turned cold again. He yanked my hand off and stepped away. “Charlotte’s a doctor. You’ll be fine with her here.” I stopped begging and texted my father asking for help.

Vincenzo Moretti was Stonehaven’s youngest financial titan— a tech mogul commanding a multibillion-dollar empire, gracing the covers of business magazines as a modern legend. But only a select few knew the truth: he was also the ruthless Don controlling the East Coast mafia. To him, wealth and power were mere chips in a game. And I? I was just another pawn used to stabilize a fragile family alliance. In our ten-year marriage, he slept with my friends, my coworkers… every single person I once trusted. Then one morning, as I took our one-month-old baby for a routine checkup, Sienna Newton, his latest mistress, ran me down with her car. The baby screamed endlessly. I begged her to take us to the hospital, and when Vincenzo arrived, he looked at me with cold disdain. “Isabella,” he sneered, “when did you learn to stage accidents? “Even if you died here, I wouldn’t bat an eye.” Then he took Sienna’s hand and walked away without a backward glance. By the time I was rushed to the hospital, the child in my arms had suffocated. Upon hearing the news, my mother suffered a heart attack. She didn’t survive. I slipped into a coma for two days. When I finally woke up, I found out that Vincenzo never visited. Instead, his father, Renato Moretti, the true king of the Moretti empire, stood by my bedside. I looked at him calmly and said, “Let me go. Whatever I owed your family, I’ve repaid in full with two lives.” Later, that same Don who had once looked down on me knelt before me, begging me to come home. But I was no longer the woman who waited, silent and broken, for his change of heart. I was the Don’s wife who turned away and never looked back.

Vincenzo Moretti was Stonehaven’s youngest financial titan— a tech mogul commanding a multibillion-dollar empire, gracing the covers of business magazines as a modern legend. But only a select few knew the truth: he was also the ruthless Don controlling the East Coast mafia. To him, wealth and power were mere chips in a game. And I? I was just another pawn used to stabilize a fragile family alliance. In our ten-year marriage, he slept with my friends, my coworkers… every single person I once trusted. Then one morning, as I took our one-month-old baby for a routine checkup, Sienna Newton, his latest mistress, ran me down with her car. The baby screamed endlessly. I begged her to take us to the hospital, and when Vincenzo arrived, he looked at me with cold disdain. “Isabella,” he sneered, “when did you learn to stage accidents? “Even if you died here, I wouldn’t bat an eye.” Then he took Sienna’s hand and walked away without a backward glance. By the time I was rushed to the hospital, the child in my arms had suffocated. Upon hearing the news, my mother suffered a heart attack. She didn’t survive. I slipped into a coma for two days. When I finally woke up, I found out that Vincenzo never visited. Instead, his father, Renato Moretti, the true king of the Moretti empire, stood by my bedside. I looked at him calmly and said, “Let me go. Whatever I owed your family, I’ve repaid in full with two lives.” Later, that same Don who had once looked down on me knelt before me, begging me to come home. But I was no longer the woman who waited, silent and broken, for his change of heart. I was the Don’s wife who turned away and never looked back.

The day I found out I was pregnant with twins, I saw my mate, Alpha Viggo, bringing another she-wolf to her prenatal check-up. I froze on the spot, the pregnancy report crumpling in my fist. That night, he looked at me with ice in his eyes. The same man who once kissed every inch of my body. The same man who swore he was mine and mine alone. “She’s carrying my pup. Her wolf is unstable. You will brew her calming tonics. Every single day.” “She's sensitive. She can't sleep without my scent. So move your things to the west wing. Make room for her.” The huge villa fell deathly silent. My wolf howled—a sharp, wounded cry. Pain from our mate bond ripped through my soul. But I didn't shed a single tear. I just calmly grabbed the suitcase I’d already packed and walked toward the door. The guards tried to stop me, but Viggo didn’t even glance up. “She’ll be back,” he said, swirling the wine in his glass, his Alpha arrogance on full display. “Three days. That’s all she’ll last. Her wolf will drive her mad without my touch. She’ll come crawling back, begging.” The pack members and allies who had come for our ceremony erupted in laughter. A few of them even made a bet right in front of me, wagering a million-dollar aurora ore mine. They bet I’d be torn apart by the fear of going rogue and be on my knees by midnight, begging Viggo to let me back in. But they had no idea. My birth father had already secretly sent our family token. My pack was already waiting. This time, I would shatter our bond for good.

In my previous life, my husband Kael Drayne, heir to the Beast King's throne and full-blooded dragon, cut open my belly with his own hands on the day I gave birth. He pulled our child out and dashed it against the floor in front of me. That was the moment I finally understood. The one he truly loved was my stepsister, Ivy Wren. Because she couldn't bear to watch the man she loved marry someone else, Ivy had staged a dramatic exit on our wedding day, slipping out alone, only to run into a gang of rogue beastkin. She vanished without a trace. Kael blamed every last bit of it on me. He hated me for it with everything he had. "Just because you're the only pure-blooded white wolf, you think you had the right to come between me and Ivy? She's gone because of you. I'm going to throw you to the horde — let you feel exactly what she went through." But he was the one who'd pursued me. He was the one who'd confessed his feelings. It was because I chose him that he was able to claim the throne at all. None of it mattered to him. There was nothing left in his eyes but hatred. Kael hurled me into a frenzied beast horde, and I was torn apart. In those final moments, I saw three figures, Kael's three unremarkable bastard brothers, charging toward me through the chaos, trying to drag me out. But the numbers were too great, the gap in power too wide. In the end, they died there alongside me. I thought my story ended there, full of regret. Then I woke up. I'd been reborn to just before Kael and I were to marry. This time, I wasn't going to choose him. And that, apparently, drove him out of his mind.