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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.

When the blizzard apocalypse descends on the world, my family casts me out to the blizzard just so the fake heiress, Erica Kent, can sleep in the car's backseat. But I end up awakening the three-hunk system just when I'm about to die.The first hunk is CEO Jay, a haughty yet domineering CEO who has unlimited supplies in his inventory. The second hunk is Professor Finn, who specializes in the ultimate defensive techniques thanks to his high intellect.The third hunk is Zoomer Zach, a character capable of teleporting to anywhere he wants.When the entire city is suffering from the subzero temperature, I make myself at home in a luxurious villa, where the temperature is always regulated. With the hunks by my side, I dig into a nice boiling stew while watching my shitty ex-fiancee and the rest of my family erase what's left of their humanity in exchange for a slim chance of survival by killing each other.Apparently, those scumbags still have the nerve to crawl to my fence and beg for scraps of my food! I decide to send them to hell by turning on the switch of the electrified fence around my villa.In this lifetime, I don't give a damn about relationships at all. All I care about is my own survival. With the gorgeous hunks by my side, I can rest easy in this frozen era without any worries.

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.

After my older sister Rachelle came home from dialysis, the atmosphere at home was suffocating. She curled up on the couch, thin as a rail. She was nagging me hard and telling me not to tire myself out too much at work. Dad was by the door smoking. To get money to treat Rachelle’s condition, he had sold our old house and land. Dirty and muddied, my fiance, who had always viewed Rachelle as a sister of his own, brought home his week’s salary. They all lamented how unfair life was to already poor and suffering people who had to suffer even more. I looked at myself in the mirror with my bleeding nose and flushed away the report with my acute leukemia diagnosis. During dinner, Dad suddenly said, “Ryleigh, Rachelle needs a kidney. You’re healthy and young. You might be a match.” I looked at Rachelle’s pleading eyes and coldly put my cutlery down. “I won’t do it. I’ll be a cripple with one less kidney. How am I supposed to find someone to marry then?” Dad slapped me hard, even as my fiance called me ungrateful. I slammed the door shut as I left. I looked for the nearest room to the hospital to rent so that I could wait it out until I died. The room I found was only five blocks away from the organ donation center.

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 brother-in-law, Timmy Lynch, racks up 50 million dollars of illegal gambling debt but leaves my contact information behind. By the time the interest snowballs to 100 million dollars, the debt collectors show up at my doorstep. After I persuade them to leave, my wife, Celia Lynch, and my mother-in-law, Meryl Unwin, finally come out of the room. Celia's face is pale as she says, "Let's get divorced. I'd rather leave with nothing. Your gambling debts are your own problem, so don't even think about dragging me into this." No matter how many times I explain that it was Timmy who bet on an underdog team and lost, she refuses to believe me. Meryl even slaps me across the face and roars, "Not only are you trying to trick my daughter into paying your debt, but you're also slandering my son? Listen to me, Celia—divorce him immediately!" Then, she turns to me and says, "I might as well tell you the truth now. Celia is pregnant, and the baby's father is your buddy. Just give up already and sign the divorce papers." Wait, what? I literally just won a 100-million-dollar prize from winning a World Soccer Tournament bet last night. I was going to ask if they need help covering Timmy's debt. How did this suddenly turn into a full-on divorce? Fine, then. They can pay back his massive debt themselves.

My husband, Cesare Ferrante, the most feared Don of the Ferrante family, had always hated children. Yet everything changed the moment my stepsister, Bianca Moretti, moved in next door with her six-month-old baby. Suddenly, my husband became obsessed with that child. He personally fed the baby formula, sang lullabies, and carried the baby everywhere he went. Every day, he came home exhausted at dawn, yet his face glowed with joy, as if that baby occupied his entire soul. I became invisible to him. Three days ago, someone forced my car off the road, and I crashed into the median. Blood streamed down my forehead, and my vision swam. I called Cesare 55 times. He did not answer a single call. Instead, he posted a photo of the baby on his social media. [My little angel smiled today!] I had had enough. Tonight at the family banquet, every member of the famiglia was seated around the table. I raised my final toast, then set down my glass. "I want a divorce." They all froze. "Are you insane?" My parents' voices rose in unison. Cesare grabbed my wrist, disbelief written across his face. "Giulia, you want to divorce me just because I was busy taking care of the baby and didn't answer your calls? You're actually jealous of a six-month-old child?" I did not meet his eyes. Instead, I stared at the glaring kiss mark behind his ear. "Since you love that child so much," I said calmly, "I'll make it easy for you. Go be that child's father."

On my twentieth birthday, I had to choose a husband from the six angel heirs. Everyone thought I would choose Adrian Seraphiel, the brightest golden-winged heir and the man I had loved for years. In my last life, I did. Because of me, he inherited eighty percent of House Seraphiel’s fortune and became the next ruler of the angel clan. But after our marriage, he got involved with Celeste, my adopted half-siren sister. When my dragon family cast her out of House Drakon, Adrian blamed me. From then on, he hated me. He surrounded himself with women who looked like her, humiliated me again and again, and finally replaced my life-saving medicine with slow poison. I died carrying his child, while the last of my dragon blood burned away. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on my twentieth birthday. This time, I decided to let them have each other. So in front of everyone, I chose Cassian Seraphiel, the sixth son of the angel family. Broken-winged. Mocked by everyone. No one believed he could ever inherit anything. The room burst into laughter. Adrian looked at me coldly and sneered. “Elena, are you choosing that useless cripple just to get my attention?” I ignored him. Because in my last life, after I died, this so-called useless cripple was the only one who collected my body, found the truth, and avenged me by stripping Adrian of his golden wings. But then Adrian stepped closer. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Funny,” he said. “That wasn’t who you chose in your last life.”