mr. williams! madame is dying

Jodie Walsh finds herself transmigrated into a romance novel as the ex-wife who got screwed over. The original character spent five years in an arranged marriage with a CEO tyrant, giving him everything—money, property, her whole heart—only to end up with her family destroyed and herself behind bars. And it gets worse. Her parents, best friend, childhood friends, and basically everyone connected to her was just cannon fodder in the story. Well, time for Jodie to roll up her sleeves and rewrite this mess. Mr. Hotshot CEO? She's going to see how mighty he is after bankruptcy. The pure, innocent female lead? Honey, let's add some darkness to that light. Her parents jumping to their deaths? Not in her version. They'll be doing the disco on her ex-mother-in-law's grave instead. Her bestie killed by her abusive husband? Hmm... such a "wonderful" husband. Let's save him for the female lead's bestie. Her broke aristocratic childhood friends? Here, one business opportunity each, and boom, instant CEOs, easy peasy. And the supposed villain? With that face and those abs? No one's going to object to him being the male protagonist. What's that? You're asking what makes her so badass? Jodie beckons to the mafia boss. "Babe, you tell them." "Simple." Mafia boss grins. "She's the boss lady."

"You're no daughter of this pack," my mother hissed, her golden eyes flashing in the firelight. "If you can't support your Alpha sister, then get out." I should have seen it coming. In the Ashveil Pack, family means everything—unless you're me. Vera Darkthorne, the disappointment. While my perfect sister Eris got the love, the title, even my mate Cain, I got a mating ceremony where nobody showed up. Not even the man who swore he'd always be mine. That night, I ran. Now I've built a new life in Berlin's underground werewolf syndicate, where strength is the only law that matters. I've learned to fight, to lead, to make wolves twice my size back down with just a look. But when a message comes that Eris's dying, the pack demands my return. "Come home, Vera," my father's voice crackles through the phone. "Your sister needs you." I almost laugh. After everything? But this time, I'm not the weak wolf they left behind. This time, I have fangs of my own. And when wolves hunt you down, you don't run—you rip their throats out first.

My sister and I were reborn on the very day we were to be sent to the Demons as sacrificial vessels. That day, our husbands, the God of Water and the God of Fire, came to rescue us. However, this time, without any discussion, we made the same choice. We refused their rescue and willingly offered ourselves to the Demons. In our previous life, after they saved us, the Demons captured the God of Water's young apprentice as a replacement. In the end, she was flayed and had her bones torn out, dying a brutal and tragic death. Because of that, the God of Water and the God of Fire came to hate my sister and me deeply. They spread rumors that we were the Twin Blossoms of Ruin, destined to destroy the world, and forced us to the point where our souls were completely annihilated. When I opened my eyes again, my sister and I had returned to the moment when the Demons first captured us. We exchanged a glance and then announced in front of everyone, "We are willing to become the sacrificial vessels of the Dark Lord and the Demon King. Take us with you." The God of Water and the God of Fire left with their young apprentice, who was completely unharmed. They were relieved that they had finally protected the one they truly cared about. Only later did they realize their mistake, but by then, they were consumed with regret.

On my twentieth birthday, I had to choose a husband before all of Olympus. Everyone thought I would choose Apollo Olympion, the radiant heir of the sun god and the man I had loved for years. In my last life, I did. Because of me, he gained Zeus’s favor, sacred estates, and the right to rise above every divine heir. But after our marriage, he gave his sunlight to Celeste, the dying flower nymph my mother had taken in. When Demeter drove her away, Apollo blamed me. From then on, he hated me. He humiliated me, broke me, and finally let my sacred medicine become slow poison. I died carrying his child, on the night the spring inside me withered. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on my twentieth birthday. This time, I let them have each other. So before Zeus and every god in the Golden Hall, I chose Cassian Hadeion, the last blood of Hades. The cursed underworld prince everyone mocked. Apollo sneered. “Choosing him just to make me jealous?” I ignored him. Because in my last life, after I died, Cassian was the only one who avenged me. Then Apollo stepped closer and whispered, “Funny. That wasn’t who you chose last time.”

I was diagnosed with Wolf-Soul Decay Syndrome on my birthday, which meant I was on the verge of death. But my older brother, Alaric Sinclair, bought the only tube of Moonviolet serum—a serum capable of saving my life—just so he could give it to my younger adopted sister, Megan Sinclair. He thought I faked my illness in order to attract everyone's attention. Because of that, I stole the serum when no one was looking and took it. That night, Megan drove away from home in tears, only to be met with a fatal car accident that took her life. I was cast out of my childhood home by my parents. Even my fiance, Kenneth Ravenscroft, who once vowed to protect me, hated my guts. Upon returning to my own home, I ended up dying in a fire that broke out. But what I don't expect is that I've traveled back in time to the third day before my demise. During those three days, I've given up on everything. When I mention that I can give away my spot at the marking ceremony, Kenneth praises me for being an understanding fiancee. When I hand over my design company, which is in the top 500 rank, to Megan, my parents are satisfied with me. "You've finally learned how to be selfless, Evie," they say. But Alaric grabs my hand and roars, "Didn't you claim that you'd never give those things away unless you die? Why are you giving them away now?" That's because I'm about to die, dear brother.

My husband Hades gave another woman my birthday celebration. Then he gave her my mother’s brooch. Then he let our son call her home. Nympha was the flower spirit who had grown up beside him. The healers said a curse was killing her, and she had only six months left before she disappeared forever. Hades said he only wanted her final days to be free of regret. So I was expected to be generous. Even when our five-year-old son, Eren, curled up beside her at the hearth and whispered that she felt more like home than I did, I still told myself he was only a child. Then one night, I heard him say to Hades, “Nympha is so gentle. So beautiful. I wish Mother could be more like her.” Hades only smiled. “Your mother is strict because she wants what is best for you,” he said. “But if you like Nympha so much, I can let her stand beside you at the family altar. She can bless you like a second mother.” That was when I finally understood. My husband had already given her my place. And my son had accepted her there. So the next morning, I placed a marriage dissolution agreement before Hades. He signed it without reading, because Nympha had collapsed again and he was desperate to reach her.By the time he realized what he had signed, I was already gone. If they wanted Nympha to be the lady of the Underworld, I would grant them their wish. But why, after I left, did Hades tear the Underworld apart looking for me? Why did my son cry himself sick, begging for the mother he once pushed away? And why did the dying woman they protected so carefully suddenly stop looking so fragile?