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For three years, I’d used my family’s connections to bring the company hundreds of millions in revenue. But at the quarterly meeting, the new intern stood before everyone, displaying my attendance and expense reports, and accused me of “unexcused absences” and “squandering company funds.” “These high-end clubs, these restaurants…” she declared, her voice ringing with self-righteousness. “She spends thousands of dollars every time! These are completely unnecessary expenses.” “I strongly advise the CEO to fire her immediately and save the company’s cash flow.” I glanced at Claude, the CEO. My old classmate. He knew exactly how much revenue each of those meetings generated. He also knew that when I wasn't in the office, I was at some bar, negotiating with investors, sometimes drinking until my stomach turned. But he just stared at me coldly. “Caroline, what’s your explanation for the absences and expenses Lia has presented?” I smiled. “I have nothing to explain.” They would all learn, very soon, the consequences of this little stunt.

My stepsister falsely accuses me of causing her allergies to act up. My three brothers stuff me into the cramped cellar and chain the door shut. I pound on the door and beg them to let me out. My eldest brother, an outstanding businessman, snaps, "It's bad enough that you keep bullying Lori. How could you make her eat seafood when you know she's allergic to it? Isn't that just murder? Stay in there and reflect on your mistakes!" My second brother, an award-winning singer, and my third brother, a genius painter, scoff contemptuously. "It's unbelievable that someone as evil as you is making excuses to garner pity. You can stay in there and repent for your sins!" After that, they take our shuddering stepsister to the hospital. The oxygen in the cellar soon runs out, and it gets difficult to breathe. Ultimately, I die in there. My brothers only remember me three days later when they bring our stepsister back from the hospital. Unbeknownst to them, I've already died of asphyxiation.

My stepsister falsely accuses me of causing her allergies to act up. My three brothers stuff me into the cramped cellar and chain the door shut. I pound on the door and beg them to let me out. My eldest brother, an outstanding businessman, snaps, "It's bad enough that you keep bullying Lori. How could you make her eat seafood when you know she's allergic to it? Isn't that just murder? Stay in there and reflect on your mistakes!" My second brother, an award-winning singer, and my third brother, a genius painter, scoff contemptuously. "It's unbelievable that someone as evil as you is making excuses to garner pity. You can stay in there and repent for your sins!" After that, they take our shuddering stepsister to the hospital. The oxygen in the cellar soon runs out, and it gets difficult to breathe. Ultimately, I die in there. My brothers only remember me three days later when they bring our stepsister back from the hospital. Unbeknownst to them, I've already died of asphyxiation.

I was reborn, back to the day before my wedding. The first thing I did? I swapped husbands with my sister. Last time around, I married Julian, a mild-mannered tech mogul. He couldn't handle my fiery temper, and I couldn't stand how soft he was. Our marriage crashed and burned in a year. My sister, sweet and timid, was in an arranged marriage with Robin Kane, the Don of New York's biggest crime family. She couldn't handle the brutal, chaotic life. Tormented by Robin's so-called childhood sweetheart, Isabella, she fell into a deep depression and died. So when I came back, I made a decision. I’d be the one to marry the Don. But I never expected that after the wedding, the cold, stoic Don would become a different man. Every night, he’d be on top of me, kissing me like he was obsessed, whispering, "Good girl. I'll make you feel good. Just one more time, baby?"

When Julian, the true heir by blood, was finally brought back to the Family, my cold-blooded adoptive parents cast me aside. They sent me to "The Abyss"—a clandestine hellhole where billionaires and mafia bosses paid to hunt, rape, and slaughter human prey.No matter how humiliatingly I begged for mercy, I remained locked in an iron cage, passed around as prey for those bloodthirsty beasts.Days later, a photo of me—covered in whip marks, kneeling like a dog with a chain around my neck—made its way to my beloved fiancée, Vivienne.Standing before the press, the untouchable Mafia Princess sneered, her voice dripping with disgust. "He’s pathetic and utterly filthy. The Valenti family would never align with such trash. I'll be marrying Julian instead."On cue, the Russo family officially disowned me, permanently stripping me of their name.After I was tortured to death, the wedding of the century commenced, broadcast live worldwide to celebrate the alliance between two major mafia families.But right then, my "wedding gift" was delivered.When the box was opened, the entire room went dead silent.

I was reborn, back to the day before my wedding. The first thing I did? I swapped husbands with my sister. Last time around, I married Julian, a mild-mannered tech mogul. He couldn't handle my fiery temper, and I couldn't stand how soft he was. Our marriage crashed and burned in a year. My sister, sweet and timid, was in an arranged marriage with Robin Kane, the Don of New York's biggest crime family. She couldn't handle the brutal, chaotic life. Tormented by Robin's so-called childhood sweetheart, Isabella, she fell into a deep depression and died. So when I came back, I made a decision. I’d be the one to marry the Don. But I never expected that after the wedding, the cold, stoic Don would become a different man. Every night, he’d be on top of me, kissing me like he was obsessed, whispering, "Good girl. I'll make you feel good. Just one more time, baby?"

Na-yul had been having a miserable time lately. The workload was already overwhelming when shared among three people, and on top of that, she constantly had to clean up the messes caused by her junior colleague. “…Kwon Si-jin….” That bastard. Kwon Si-jin was a completely hopeless human being. Hopeless in character, hopeless in the words he spoke—a man who knew better than anyone how to trample on another person’s dignity and self-worth with his words alone. And once again today, because of that utterly hopeless man… Grinding her teeth, Na-yul stared at her frozen computer screen for ten straight minutes. It was already 11 p.m. Friday night. 11 p.m. Drawn by the distant glow of light, guided purely by rage and instinct, she marched straight into CEO Kwon Si-jin’s office and flung the door open. “Sir, I really don’t think this is acceptable. I—” “……” “Sir? Are you okay?” Their eyes met in midair. Hot breaths tangled with cold ones. Time seemed to stop completely— Leaving Na-yul face to face with her boss, who was behaving suspiciously late at night during overtime.

My best friend and I married into the same ultra-wealthy family. I married the genius doctor older brother, she married the cold and proud CEO younger brother. On the day of our wedding, Julian Long did not show up. He had gone to help his long-lost love find her missing dog. My grandmother was so upset she had a heart attack. I begged him to come back and save her. He said angrily, “Are you insane, Molly Shane? How could you lie using your only family’s life to drag me back? Sunny’s dog went missing, and I’m helping her look for it. We can have our wedding some other day.” That day, he found her dog, but I lost my grandmother forever. I cried until I passed out. When I woke up, I turned to my bestie. “Evie, I’m getting a divorce. What about you?” My bestie hugged me and wept. “I’m getting a divorce too!” The brothers’ eyes went red with tears when they received the divorce papers.

At the party for our first wedding anniversary, I hit the floor—face-first on a red carpet, gasping like a fish out of water. Carlo Pipino, my husband, had his arm draped around Gianna Verde, his childhood flame, sipping champagne and laughing. Gianna knew I was allergic to nuts. So, obviously, she bathed everything in hazelnut dressing. One bite and boom—my throat locked, my lungs lit up, and hives popped like confetti. I reached for my allergy meds—came up with a fistful of melted M&Ms instead. Gianna laughed when she saw my face. "Surprise! Carlo swapped your meds. Seriously, Siena, one nut? Dramatic much?" I slid off my chair, wheezing, while the crowd placed bets on how long my "performance" would last. "Carlo... my meds..." I croaked. "Please. I'm gonna die." He sighed, annoyed. "God, you're so dramatic. Why do women always play dead for attention? You know I love you. Just stop this show already." Right then, my heart shattered faster than my lungs could. I stopped begging. Hit the distress signal. Called my real family.

Attending the ten-year high school reunion for the cheerleading squad and football team, I arrived in an old domestic Ford, while the parking lot was filled with Lamborghinis, Ferraris, Maybachs, and even a gold Bugatti. It was as if I were the only relic from another era. The moment I stepped out of my car, a former classmate, whose name I could no longer remember, looked at me with a sneer. “Well, if it isn’t the coach’s pet. How is it that after all these years, you’re still driving this beat-up old Ford?” “This thing looks like it belongs in a scrapyard from the last century!” During dinner, everyone gathered around the Bugatti owner, raising their glasses in celebration, while I was left ignored at the side. Only the cheerleading assistant sat next to me, raising a glass in my direction with a comforting smile. “Don’t let it get to you. Your car may be old, but I believe you’ll be driving a luxury car one day.” I let a small smirk curl at the corner of my lips and lowered my voice. “This car may look unimpressive, but it’s been fully upgraded with a carbon fiber body. It’s already worth over half a million dollars. Too bad, none of you even recognized its true value.”

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.

Three days before my marking ceremony, someone set fire to the bridal shop while I was inside trying on my ceremonial dress. Alpha Marcus threw the arsonist into the pack prison, sentencing them to the harshest punishment our laws allowed. I lay in the hospital bed, my body covered in third-degree burns, refusing to wake fully as the reality of my disfigurement sank in. In my semi-conscious state, I heard Marcus speaking with the pack's healing witch. "Alpha, we can still heal her completely with the ancient magic. If we wait any longer, Sarah will bear these scars for life! You just want Miss Rachel to be your Luna at the marking ceremony. This is cruel beyond measure!" "Let her keep the scars. I'll provide for her for the rest of her life, but if she's healed, she'll definitely cause trouble at the marking ceremony." "I promised Rachel that her pup would be welcomed into the pack with full honors. Only when Sarah is completely disfigured will she be grateful enough to raise Rachel's child as her own. The scars are necessary - at least this way, she won't dare mistreat the pup." In the corner of the room, where no one was watching, a tear slid down my burned cheek. So this was the truth. The marking ceremony I'd dreamed of was nothing but a lie. The mate bond I longed for would be my death sentence. If that's how it had to be, I would give him what he wanted.

Three days before my marking ceremony, someone set fire to the bridal shop while I was inside trying on my ceremonial dress. Alpha Marcus threw the arsonist into the pack prison, sentencing them to the harshest punishment our laws allowed. I lay in the hospital bed, my body covered in third-degree burns, refusing to wake fully as the reality of my disfigurement sank in. In my semi-conscious state, I heard Marcus speaking with the pack's healing witch. "Alpha, we can still heal her completely with the ancient magic. If we wait any longer, Sarah will bear these scars for life! You just want Miss Rachel to be your Luna at the marking ceremony. This is cruel beyond measure!" "Let her keep the scars. I'll provide for her for the rest of her life, but if she's healed, she'll definitely cause trouble at the marking ceremony." "I promised Rachel that her pup would be welcomed into the pack with full honors. Only when Sarah is completely disfigured will she be grateful enough to raise Rachel's child as her own. The scars are necessary - at least this way, she won't dare mistreat the pup." In the corner of the room, where no one was watching, a tear slid down my burned cheek. So this was the truth. The marking ceremony I'd dreamed of was nothing but a lie. The mate bond I longed for would be my death sentence. If that's how it had to be, I would give him what he wanted.

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.

A hundred years from now, Kiera Lynn, the strongest spirit master alive, is betrayed and struck down by the four contract-bonded partners she trusted most, the people she thought would stand with her to the end. She opens her eyes again at fifteen, three hundred years in the past, her spirit core still dormant and her pockets empty, with nothing but the memory of exactly how and when each of them will turn on her. This time she means to strike first, hunting down her future enemies before they ever grow strong enough to betray her. But revenge doesn't stay simple for long. The knight she remembers as cold and rigid is, at this age, reckless, hot-blooded, and painfully sincere, practically a walking ray of sunshine. The Declan Cole she remembers as brutal is a starving, battered boy throwing himself between danger and the cub he's desperate to protect. The prophet she remembers as sharp-tongued and untouchable is instead chained half-starved at the top of a tower, forgotten by everyone. And the Wolfsbane Clan's young lord, who seems bright and easygoing on the surface, is quietly carrying a blood debt no one has ever avenged, bullied by the very people who should protect him. One by one, the enemies Kiera came back to kill turn out to be nothing like the monsters she remembers, and her carefully plotted path of vengeance starts pulling her somewhere she never expected to go.

My husband—the mafia boss—loses his first love to suicide. Celeste Reyes couldn't accept that he was marrying me. Since then, Darius Sterling mourns her publicly every day, and we become the kind of couple that despises each other more than anyone else. However, when the Moretti family of Eastbourne sends assassins after me, Darius takes the bullet meant for me. The bullet is poisoned. As he lies weakly in my arms, he whispers, "I saved your life. My debt to your mother is repaid. In our next life, let's not meet again. "I don't want to hate you anymore. I just hope you'll always be the girl next door. Now, it's time for me to be with Celeste." And just like that, he dies in my arms. I cry my heart out, but Darius never looks at me again. Only then do I realize how foolish and childish our hatred has been all these years. Later, after I eliminate the Morettis, I take my own life for him. Yet, when I open my eyes again, I'm back at 20—the year of our engagement. I reject my father's plan for an arranged marriage and choose to go to New Verden to manage the family business. This time, I'll stay far away from Darius and give him and Celeste my blessings.

Three days before my marking ceremony, someone set fire to the bridal shop while I was inside trying on my ceremonial dress. Alpha Marcus threw the arsonist into the pack prison, sentencing them to the harshest punishment our laws allowed. I lay in the hospital bed, my body covered in third-degree burns, refusing to wake fully as the reality of my disfigurement sank in. In my semi-conscious state, I heard Marcus speaking with the pack's healing witch. "Alpha, we can still heal her completely with the ancient magic. If we wait any longer, Sarah will bear these scars for life! You just want Miss Rachel to be your Luna at the marking ceremony. This is cruel beyond measure!" "Let her keep the scars. I'll provide for her for the rest of her life, but if she's healed, she'll definitely cause trouble at the marking ceremony." "I promised Rachel that her pup would be welcomed into the pack with full honors. Only when Sarah is completely disfigured will she be grateful enough to raise Rachel's child as her own. The scars are necessary - at least this way, she won't dare mistreat the pup." In the corner of the room, where no one was watching, a tear slid down my burned cheek. So this was the truth. The marking ceremony I'd dreamed of was nothing but a lie. The mate bond I longed for would be my death sentence. If that's how it had to be, I would give him what he wanted.

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.