

I'm the daughter of a gang leader. The thing is, I never liked violence since I was a kid. All I want is to live life like a regular person. Upon realizing that I'm still single despite being 28 years old, Dad issues me an ultimatum and forces me to go on a blind date. Otherwise, he will never acknowledge me as his daughter. Soon, I arrive at the location of the blind date. When I walk past a luxury store, a handbag happens to catch my eye. Just as I'm about to pay for it, a woman pops out from behind me and slaps a black card onto the counter. "I'm buying that bag, and that's final! Wrap it up for me!" I tell the woman nicely, "Miss, I'm the one who wants to buy this bag first." Unexpectedly, the woman begins berating me arrogantly. "A broke bitch like you only has the right to feast your eyes on this bag! Now get lost! I'm the secretary of Mr. Cohen Campbell, the CEO of Skyreach Corp! No one in this city has the guts to fight over the things that I want with me!" Cohen Campbell? Isn't that my blind date partner? I pull out my phone and call him right away. "Cohen, do you have any idea that your secretary has a habit of using your name just to bully others?"

When I went to reissue my mate certificate, the Werewolf Affairs Division told me, "Your mate certificate is a forgery. We have no record of your registration." I stared at the clerk, unable to believe what I was hearing. "But Sam and I registered five years ago. That's impossible. Could you please check again?" The clerk gave me a look before double-checking the files. "We found Alpha Sam's record. But the registered mate… isn't you." My voice trembled. "Then who is Sam's legal mate?" The clerk didn't hesitate. "Lily." I gripped the back of the chair, white-knuckled, just to keep myself upright. Until the clerk had spoken that name, I'd still held on to hope. Maybe it was a clerical error. A mix-up. But of all people, it had to be Lily, Sam's childhood friend. And suddenly, everything started to make sense. In five years of being Sam's mate, he had never marked me. We'd only held a mating ceremony—no certificate, no legal bond. I had given up everything for that ceremony, poured all my hope and love into it, believing I was his, only to find the certificate was fake. The five years I'd thought were mine—our happiness—had all been a lie, crafted and upheld by appearances. If none of it was truly mine, then there's only one thing left for me to do. Leave.

In the fog-choked steam city of Verlock, Chloe Ashborne survives a brutal family massacre and hides herself as a disfigured, mute maid sneaking into the obsidian Clock Tower Manor—the stronghold of the cold and powerful Duke Liam. Covered in wax scars and pretending to be timid and clumsy, she hides her true identity as the last heir of the Ashborne mechanical clan, a master toxic healer, top gear decoder, and deadly combat fighter. Her only goal is to retrieve the sealed case files that record the truth of her family's murder from the manor's confidential machine room. As she lurks in the shadows, she repeatedly arouses Liam's suspicion and curiosity. She narrowly escapes frame-up and fatal traps set by the jealous captain of the female guards, saves Liam from fatal steam poison and assassin attacks, and secretly controls the manor's defense gear system in crisis. While the line between hatred and attraction blurs, Chloe's layered disguises are gradually stripped away one by one. When she finally breaks into the secret chamber to obtain the files, she falls into a carefully laid trap, and her true face and identity are completely exposed to Liam. The two fall into misunderstanding and confrontation, until the real murderer behind the massacre launches a full-scale attack on Clock Tower. Standing amid fire, gunsmoke and collapsing steam machinery, Chloe and Liam lay down their hatred, fight side by side to defeat the evil guild, uncover the buried truth, and turn a revenge disguise into a fated love bonded by gears, steam and redemption.

In the VIP lounge of an underground casino, Maeve, the Falcone family's princess, had been plied with too much hard liquor. Fueled by alcohol, someone goaded her into revealing the most shameless thing she'd ever done to win over the Don. She swirled her glass, pointed at me dealing cards behind the table, and threw her head back with a laugh. "Seven years ago, when Declan was in a coma after a shootout, I took his private phone. And I deleted the distress message that bitch sent him. Every last trace of it. Then I replied in his name: You're a burden. Go die." "You'll never guess what happened next. That idiot stood outside the safe house all night in a downpour, like a stray dog. I almost died laughing…" The room erupted in crude laughter. Only the man enthroned at the head of the table remained silent. The crystal whiskey glass in his hand shattered with a sharp crack. Blood mixed with the amber liquor, trickling over the veins on the back of his hand before dripping onto the carpet. His murderous, bloodshot eyes were locked on me. I calmly dealt the last hole card in front of him and offered a clean, white silk handkerchief. "Don Declan, you should wipe your hand. Blood on the felt is bad luck." After all, some stains never wash out.

After our eighty-eighth canceled wedding, I called my business partner. "I'm taking the Haviana market project." There was a beat of stunned silence. "Seriously? That's ten years overseas. You just got married—well, weren't you? Does your husband even know? What about your parents? You always said staying close to them was everything." I glanced around the empty church and let out a sharp laugh. "There was no wedding. No husband. And my parents? They've got Cindy. That's all they need." Another pause. "Alright. Pack your bags. You leave tomorrow." After the call, I ran a hand down my wedding dress. One last tear slipped out, quiet and pointless. Cindy had another "episode" today. Claimed she'd off herself. Andrew canceled—again. I'd looked at him, drained. "It's the eighty-eighth time." He dropped his head, guilt all over him. "Just a little more time, Viv. She's been off since the accident. I'm scared she'll actually do it. I swear, I'll talk to her. For real this time. Then we'll get married. Promise." My parents didn't hesitate. "Vivian, let Andrew go. If Cindy hadn't gotten kidnapped trying to save you, she wouldn't have these breakdowns. Are you really putting a wedding over your sister's life?" "How could you be so selfish?" I'd heard it all before. Used to fight it. Not this time. If neither my fiancé nor my parents wanted me around, then fine. I'd leave.

In my previous life, I was adopted by a regular family. My younger sister, Regina Capasso, was taken in by a mafia Don, resulting in her becoming the principessa of Etalia's most powerful mafia family. Unexpectedly, Regina is cast out by the Don in her third year of getting adopted. She was forced to roam the streets as a homeless person till the day she died a terrible death. I, on the other hand, got into a prestigious university thanks to my good grades. Then, I furthered my studies with my adoptive older brother, Dario Bivona. With hard work, I eventually became the rising star of the AI industry who was sought out by all. With my adoptive parents' blessings, Dario and I ended up getting married and having our own children. My life was filled with peace and happiness. After we're given a second chance at the same life, Regina makes an entirely different decision. She rushes into Dario's arms and starts calling him by his name sweetly. Then, she takes my ex-parents' hands while gazing at me gloatingly. "You should have a taste of what it feels like to be a principessa, Livia. I seriously can't endure another second in that cruel, unforgiving family!" I look at Dario expectantly, hoping that he'll say something in my defense. But he shields Regina behind him while glaring at me icily. "Stay away from my sister." In the end, I slowly make my way toward the Rolls-Royce as Regina continues to look at me smugly.

In my previous life, I was adopted by a regular family. My younger sister, Regina Capasso, was taken in by a mafia Don, resulting in her becoming the principessa of Etalia's most powerful mafia family. Unexpectedly, Regina is cast out by the Don in her third year of getting adopted. She was forced to roam the streets as a homeless person till the day she died a terrible death. I, on the other hand, got into a prestigious university thanks to my good grades. Then, I furthered my studies with my adoptive older brother, Dario Bivona. With hard work, I eventually became the rising star of the AI industry who was sought out by all. With my adoptive parents' blessings, Dario and I ended up getting married and having our own children. My life was filled with peace and happiness. After we're given a second chance at the same life, Regina makes an entirely different decision. She rushes into Dario's arms and starts calling him by his name sweetly. Then, she takes my ex-parents' hands while gazing at me gloatingly. ""You should have a taste of what it feels like to be a principessa, Livia. I seriously can't endure another second in that cruel, unforgiving family!"" I look at Dario expectantly, hoping that he'll say something in my defense. But he shields Regina behind him while glaring at me icily. ""Stay away from my sister."" In the end, I slowly make my way toward the Rolls-Royce as Regina continues to look at me smugly.

My father, the Alpha King, did not want his daughter surrounded by Alphas chasing the throne, so he hid my identity and arranged for me to meet Adrian Vale, the young Alpha of the modest Silver Ridge Pack. Father said Adrian had real ability. Unlike the court Alphas who knew only how to flatter power, Adrian had taken control of his pack young and kept it stable. I wore a Chanel dress, a custom Cartier watch, a Hermès bag, and the moonstone bracelet my mother had left me. It was only a formal meeting, but since Father had arranged it himself, I chose to show respect. Before dinner could begin, Adrian's childhood friend, Molly Veyne, stormed into the private dining room. She called herself a gold-digger detector. Her eyes swept over my dress, my watch, my bracelet, and my bag before she laughed. "Adrian, look at her. She covered herself in luxury brands so you would think she came from noble blood." Adrian apologized and said Molly disliked women who dressed too loudly. I chose not to lose my temper. Then Molly dragged my Hermès bag under her shoe. "A bag worth this much? How could you afford it?" "Tell us, how many Alphas did you fool before you could pay for everything you are wearing?" "You dressed like a princess because you want an Alpha to put a Luna crown on your head." Her malice almost made me laugh. I looked at the moonstone bracelet on my wrist. Even if Silver Ridge sold every business it owned, Molly still might not be able to pay for what she had just touched.

In my previous life, my girlfriend's childhood friend impersonated a rich heir and messed around with the fake power he had. I exposed him, and he crashed his car into me. In my final moments, my girlfriend's sister begged on her knees, pleading for my girlfriend's aid, hoping she could save me, but my girlfriend did nothing. "He wouldn't do that. Zacharias is beyond this. He would never dirty his hands for a nobody like this guy. He might be my boyfriend, but that doesn't mean he can do anything he wants. He'd better know his place." My girlfriend's sister remained on the ground for three days. In the end, Zacharias dragged her away, violated her, and killed her. Even at my dying breath, my girlfriend was still covering up for her childhood friend. She refused to believe Zacharias hit someone with a car and violated her sister. And then I was reborn. This time, I did not beg and plead for my girlfriend to give me a moment of her time. I called my brother instead. "Hey? Yeah, it's me. Some bastard impersonated me and is dragging my name through the mud. I need you to take that guy out. Also, I'm not marrying Annabelle Lawson. I'm taking her sister instead." I gave the Lawsons a lot of resources so they could grow, and what did I get in the end? An ungrateful woman who would leave me stranded and dying all for another man. With all their resources pulled, Annabelle and her childhood friend would be saying goodbye to their good old days and hello to their personal hell.

The day the Royal Academy's screening results came out, the twin Alpha heirs — Julian and Damien — stood in front of me. Each of them was holding an application form. "Ivy. Have you decided whose name you're putting on that form?" In my previous life, I chose Julian for love. I gave up my direct admission to the Royal Academy and stayed behind in the pack with him and Celeste — his childhood-friend Omega who'd failed the screening — to help them train for another year. I thought that was what it meant to go through hardship together. That was love. But the pack laughed at Celeste — an Omega who thought she could get into the combat track at the Royal Academy. She couldn't stand the gossip, ran off alone, and was killed by rogue wolves. Julian threw me into the silver pit — the pit our pack used to execute traitors. Silver burns a wolf's flesh like acid. "If you hadn't been so desperate to cling to me, I could've focused on protecting Celeste. She wouldn't be dead!" "Ivy Hale — all of this is your fault. You ruined us." He poured silver down my throat. I died thrashing in agony. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day the screening results were announced. This time, I slipped my arm through Damien's and gave the brightest smile I had. "Let's apply to the Royal Academy together." Julian let out a quiet, relieved breath and turned to go find his Omega. He didn't see the way Damien's hand tightened around mine — or the obsession and ambition he couldn't quite hide behind his eyes.

In my previous life, my girlfriend's childhood friend impersonated a rich heir and messed around with the fake power he had. I exposed him, and he crashed his car into me. In my final moments, my girlfriend's sister begged on her knees, pleading for my girlfriend's aid, hoping she could save me, but my girlfriend did nothing. "He wouldn't do that. Zacharias is beyond this. He would never dirty his hands for a nobody like this guy. He might be my boyfriend, but that doesn't mean he can do anything he wants. He'd better know his place." My girlfriend's sister remained on the ground for three days. In the end, Zacharias dragged her away, violated her, and killed her. Even at my dying breath, my girlfriend was still covering up for her childhood friend. She refused to believe Zacharias hit someone with a car and violated her sister. And then I was reborn. This time, I did not beg and plead for my girlfriend to give me a moment of her time. I called my brother instead. "Hey? Yeah, it's me. Some bastard impersonated me and is dragging my name through the mud. I need you to take that guy out. Also, I'm not marrying Annabelle Lawson. I'm taking her sister instead." I gave the Lawsons a lot of resources so they could grow, and what did I get in the end? An ungrateful woman who would leave me stranded and dying all for another man. With all their resources pulled, Annabelle and her childhood friend would be saying goodbye to their good old days and hello to their personal hell.

When I was seven years old, a handsome man Mom brought home gave me a box of mangoes. That day, Dad watched me happily eating the mangoes as he signed his name on the divorce agreement. Then, he jumped to his death. From that day on, mangoes became a lifelong nightmare for me. So, on our wedding day, I told my wife, Irene Johnson, "If you ever want a divorce, just give me a mango." She held me without saying a word. From that moment on, mangoes became forbidden for her as well. … On the fifth Christmas Eve after we got married, Irene's childhood sweetheart, Steven Carter, placed a mango on her desk. That same day, she announced that she was cutting ties with him and fired him from the company. That day, I felt that she was the woman destined for me. ... Six months later, I return from overseas after closing a billion-dollar deal. At the celebration dinner, Irene hands me a drink. After I drink half of it, Steven, the man who was kicked out of the company, stands behind me and grins. "Is the mango juice good?" he asks. I look at Irene in disbelief, but she is holding back a laugh. "Don't be mad. Steve insisted I play a joke on you. I didn't give you a mango, just a bottle of its juice. "But I think Steve is right. There's something wrong with you for not eating mangoes. Look at how much you enjoyed it just now!" she says. I keep a cold expression, raise my hand, and splash the remaining mango juice onto her face. Then, I turn and walk away. Some things are never a joke. Mangoes aren't, and neither is my decision to divorce.

When I opened my eyes, my sister Serena Shaw was kneeling in front of me, sobbing with a fruit knife pressed near her wrist. “Nora, I swear I didn’t mean it. I had too much to drink. I don’t even know how Lucas and I…” I almost laughed. Because I had seen this scene before. In my last life, Serena cried like a victim after sleeping with my fiancé, Lucas Arden. Everyone comforted her. Lucas married her to save her reputation. And I was pushed into a marriage with Graham West, Serena’s abandoned fiancé. Before the wedding, Lucas showed me my name tattooed on his wrist and promised he would only love me. I believed him. I wasted five years beside a husband who wanted my sister, waiting for a man who had married her. Then Serena died. I thought Lucas would finally come back to me. Instead, I found him at the funeral home, holding her photograph like he had lost the love of his life. “She was my wife,” he told me. “Let it go, Nora.” At my birthday party, Lucas and Graham fought over Serena on the rooftop. One had married her. One had never stopped wanting her. While they fought over her, I was shoved into traffic and died under the headlights. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the beginning. This time, I thought I was the only one who remembered. I was wrong. Lucas remembered. Graham remembered. And even with a second chance, both of them still chose Serena. This time, I would not be traded, chosen, or discarded. This time, I would build something none of them could take from me.

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.

When I opened my eyes, my sister Serena Shaw was kneeling in front of me, sobbing with a fruit knife pressed near her wrist. “Nora, I swear I didn’t mean it. I had too much to drink. I don’t even know how Lucas and I…” I almost laughed. Because I had seen this scene before. In my last life, Serena cried like a victim after sleeping with my fiancé, Lucas Arden. Everyone comforted her. Lucas married her to save her reputation. And I was pushed into a marriage with Graham West, Serena’s abandoned fiancé. Before the wedding, Lucas showed me my name tattooed on his wrist and promised he would only love me. I believed him. I wasted five years beside a husband who wanted my sister, waiting for a man who had married her. Then Serena died. I thought Lucas would finally come back to me. Instead, I found him at the funeral home, holding her photograph like he had lost the love of his life. “She was my wife,” he told me. “Let it go, Nora.” At my birthday party, Lucas and Graham fought over Serena on the rooftop. One had married her. One had never stopped wanting her. While they fought over her, I was shoved into traffic and died under the headlights. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the beginning. This time, I thought I was the only one who remembered. I was wrong. Lucas remembered. Graham remembered. And even with a second chance, both of them still chose Serena. This time, I would not be traded, chosen, or discarded. This time, I would build something none of them could take from me.

When I opened my eyes, my sister Serena Shaw was kneeling in front of me, sobbing with a fruit knife pressed near her wrist. “Nora, I swear I didn’t mean it. I had too much to drink. I don’t even know how Lucas and I…” I almost laughed. Because I had seen this scene before. In my last life, Serena cried like a victim after sleeping with my fiancé, Lucas Arden. Everyone comforted her. Lucas married her to save her reputation. And I was pushed into a marriage with Graham West, Serena’s abandoned fiancé. Before the wedding, Lucas showed me my name tattooed on his wrist and promised he would only love me. I believed him. I wasted five years beside a husband who wanted my sister, waiting for a man who had married her. Then Serena died. I thought Lucas would finally come back to me. Instead, I found him at the funeral home, holding her photograph like he had lost the love of his life. “She was my wife,” he told me. “Let it go, Nora.” At my birthday party, Lucas and Graham fought over Serena on the rooftop. One had married her. One had never stopped wanting her. While they fought over her, I was shoved into traffic and died under the headlights. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the beginning. This time, I thought I was the only one who remembered. I was wrong. Lucas remembered. Graham remembered. And even with a second chance, both of them still chose Serena. This time, I would not be traded, chosen, or discarded. This time, I would build something none of them could take from me.

The doctor told me I had 72 hours left, unless I got access to the newest experimental treatment. However, there was only one slot available, and my husband Bowen Liddell gave it to my sister Yvonne Lawson instead. "Her kidney failure is more critical," he said. I nodded and swallowed the white pills that would only speed up my death. In the time I had left, I got a lot done. The lawyer's hand trembled as he passed me the documents. "Are you sure you want to transfer the two billion dollars in shares?" I replied, "Yes. Give them to Yvonne." My daughter, Candice Liddell, was giggling in Yvonne's arms. "Mommy Yvonne bought me a new dress!" I said, "It looks beautiful. Make sure you always listen to Mommy Yvonne, okay?" The art gallery I built from the ground up now had Yvonne's name on the sign. "You're too kind, Kathy," she said, crying. I told her, "You'll run it even better than I ever did." I even signed all my parents' trust fund away. That was when Bowen finally gave me his first genuine smile in years. "Kathleen, you've changed. You're not so aggressive anymore... You're beautiful like this." Indeed. This dying version of me finally became the 'perfect Kathleen Sullivan' in their eyes—obedient, generous, and no longer argumentative. The 72-hour countdown had already begun, and I couldn't help but wonder what they would remember when my heart stopped for good. The good wife who 'finally learned to let go', or the woman who completed her revenge by dying?