

I died just before my husband Drake's wedding to his mate. Ten days before my death, Drake's former mate returned. Drake abandoned me to spend the night with his mate even though I was attacked by rogues and was severely injured. He came back directly the next day, not to see me but to give me the news. “I want to sever the mate bond with you.” “I’ve been poisoned by wolfsbane.” “You’re lying again. Regardless, I must reject you today.” He didn’t know that his rejection would hasten my death. I thought that after this stumbling block—me—was gone, he could finally live happily with his mate. But to my surprise, he abandoned his bride at the wedding and ran to my gravestone, weeping. “Lyra, you are my wife. I forbid you to die!”

The night before our wedding, my mother needed a fifty-thousand-dollar emergency deposit for surgery. I went to my fiancé, Major Adrian Hayes, hoping he would listen before it was too late. He only saw the number. He paid the deposit in the end, but something between us broke that night. That money became the beginning of every name he would ever use against me. After that, every time I asked him for help, he sent me one hundred dollars. When I was in a car accident, he sent one hundred dollars. When I begged him to attend my mother’s funeral, he sent one hundred dollars. Eight months ago, I found out I was pregnant. I sent him seventy-seven voice messages, desperate to tell him we were having a baby. He never listened. He only sent seventy-seven payments of one hundred dollars. Later, when I started bleeding and was rushed into emergency surgery, I called Adrian and begged him to come to the hospital, to answer the doctors, to save our child. He sent one hundred dollars again. At the same time, Madeline’s Instagram story showed Adrian in his dress uniform beside her at a lavish officers’ charity gala. The comments all treated them like the perfect match. I stared at the screen until my hand went numb. I was begging for him from the edge of an emergency room while he stood under chandeliers beside another woman, looking as if he had already found the wife he wanted. By the time Adrian finally turned his phone back on, his staff officer’s voice was shaking. “Major Hayes... your wife and the baby did not make it.” And in that moment, Adrian went feral.

The night before our wedding, my mother needed a fifty-thousand-dollar emergency deposit for surgery. I went to my fiancé, Major Adrian Hayes, hoping he would listen before it was too late. He only saw the number. He paid the deposit in the end, but something between us broke that night. That money became the beginning of every name he would ever use against me. After that, every time I asked him for help, he sent me one hundred dollars. When I was in a car accident, he sent one hundred dollars. When I begged him to attend my mother’s funeral, he sent one hundred dollars. Eight months ago, I found out I was pregnant. I sent him seventy-seven voice messages, desperate to tell him we were having a baby. He never listened. He only sent seventy-seven payments of one hundred dollars. Later, when I started bleeding and was rushed into emergency surgery, I called Adrian and begged him to come to the hospital, to answer the doctors, to save our child. He sent one hundred dollars again. At the same time, Madeline’s Instagram story showed Adrian in his dress uniform beside her at a lavish officers’ charity gala. The comments all treated them like the perfect match. I stared at the screen until my hand went numb. I was begging for him from the edge of an emergency room while he stood under chandeliers beside another woman, looking as if he had already found the wife he wanted. By the time Adrian finally turned his phone back on, his staff officer’s voice was shaking. “Major Hayes... your wife and the baby did not make it.” And in that moment, Adrian went feral.

The night before our wedding, my mother needed a fifty-thousand-dollar emergency deposit for surgery. I went to my fiancé, Major Adrian Hayes, hoping he would listen before it was too late. He only saw the number. He paid the deposit in the end, but something between us broke that night. That money became the beginning of every name he would ever use against me. After that, every time I asked him for help, he sent me one hundred dollars. When I was in a car accident, he sent one hundred dollars. When I begged him to attend my mother’s funeral, he sent one hundred dollars. Eight months ago, I found out I was pregnant. I sent him seventy-seven voice messages, desperate to tell him we were having a baby. He never listened. He only sent seventy-seven payments of one hundred dollars. Later, when I started bleeding and was rushed into emergency surgery, I called Adrian and begged him to come to the hospital, to answer the doctors, to save our child. He sent one hundred dollars again. At the same time, Madeline’s Instagram story showed Adrian in his dress uniform beside her at a lavish officers’ charity gala. The comments all treated them like the perfect match. I stared at the screen until my hand went numb. I was begging for him from the edge of an emergency room while he stood under chandeliers beside another woman, looking as if he had already found the wife he wanted. By the time Adrian finally turned his phone back on, his staff officer’s voice was shaking. “Major Hayes... your wife and the baby did not make it.” And in that moment, Adrian went feral.

The true daughter of a mafia family, Evelyn, who had been separated from her family for twenty years, resolutely accepted the demand of the fake heiress Jessica and lay down in a crystal coffin overnight in order to gain the sense of family belonging she had always dreamed of. However, Jessica secretly blocked the ventilation openings, causing Evelyn to die in extreme agony. Her three brothers, deceived by Jessica, watched with their own eyes as their sister perished inside the crystal coffin. It was not until all the truth came to light that they learned Evelyn had tested bulletproof vests on her own body and gambled with her life in Russian roulette just to prepare gifts for them. The three brothers instantly collapsed, falling into endless pain and despair. Although they personally carried out Jessica’s execution, they could never bring their sister back to life, and in the end, consumed by remorse and helplessness, they went completely insane.

Three days before our wedding, my fiancé, Raphael Russo, was killed in a gang shootout. They didn't even find a body. As I was drowning in grief, comments suddenly flashed before my eyes: 【Wake up, girl! the coffin's empty! He faked his death! The scumbag ran off to be with that scheming bitch chloe, the one pretending to be sick!】 【While you're crying your eyes out at the funeral, Raphael is fucking Chloe’s brains out in a hotel bed.】 【When he comes back, he'll claim he has amnesia. You won't know a thing and you'll forgive him. You poor thing…】 A month later, news of my marriage to Mafia Don Marcello Falcone spread through New York. Raphael’s right-hand man cornered me, furious. “How could you betray the Boss?” I tightened my grip on Marcello’s arm and smiled. “A girl can’t mourn forever, can she? I’m sure Raphael, in spirit, would be happy for me.”

It's been three years since my heiress sister, Zoey Hudson, blocked me. She donates one dollar to my RainDrop Fund campaign and leaves a comment dripping with mockery. "Lung cancer, huh? Let me know when you're really dead. I'll throw a party." Three years ago, Andrew Lane—the needy student she's been sponsoring—accuses me of stealing his college admission spot. Zoey flies into a rage and has me pulled out of school on the spot. "Even if you couldn't get into college on your own, I would still have your back," she snaps. "But stealing someone else's spot? That has to be punished." We have a massive fight that ends with her coldly kicking me out of the house. "Come back when you realize what you did wrong. I refuse to believe I can't fix that rotten attitude of yours!" Since then, she has treated that needy student like a prince. As for me? She makes sure I lose every single job I land, until my only way to survive is picking through trash. I stare at her comment blankly for a long while before calling a cemetery plot salesman. "Please hold the cheapest one for me. I'll send you the deposit tomorrow." The single dollar Zoey donated is just enough to hit the withdrawal threshold. I'll give her exactly what she asked for.

Mafia Don Cesare slaughters Helena's fiancé and family on her wedding day, forcing her into a hellish marriage. For seven years, Helena endures his cruel obsession until she fakes her death and flees pregnant. But when Cesare hunts her down, the bloody truth shatters everything she ever believed...

Maria drives her daughter to celebrate the birthday of Logan, her husband. When a crash traps them, Logan—a skilled doctor—rushes to save his ex-lover's son, unknowingly leaving his own child to die.Heartbroken and disappointed, Maria decides to divorce. Before Natalie's funeral begins, will Logan uncover the truth and make amends?

Maria drives her daughter to celebrate the birthday of Logan, her husband. When a crash traps them, Logan—a skilled doctor—rushes to save his ex-lover's son, unknowingly leaving his own child to die.Heartbroken and disappointed, Maria decides to divorce. Before Natalie's funeral begins, will Logan uncover the truth and make amends?