Chapter 1 Choice and Despair

July in Bellerion was oppressively hot. The scorching air felt as though it could roast a person alive.

Yet standing outside the study, Lucille Young felt frozen to the bone.

Her fair hand trembled as she pressed it protectively against her swollen belly. Her breathing grew increasingly ragged.

The conversation inside continued.

"I didn't expect her condition to worsen at a time like this!"

Michael Powell took two deep drags from his cigarette. "How many more extractions does she need?"

"About three more, but drawing Lucille's blood alone isn't enough anymore. The only option is to arrange a bone marrow transplant as soon as possible."

As a doctor, Harry Cohen found it difficult to say the words, but Michael had to make a choice.

"But if we go ahead with the surgery, your child definitely won't survive.

"Even if the baby somehow makes it, the medication could cause severe deformities or intellectual disabilities. Lucille's life will also be at risk. Think carefully before deciding."

Silence filled the room.

Peering through the narrow crack in the door, Lucille stared anxiously at the stern-faced man inside.

She watched as he crushed the cigarette into the ashtray. The indifference in his eyes was something she had never seen before. After only a brief moment of hesitation, he said, "Get rid of the baby."

His voice was detached and emotionless. "Schedule the surgery as soon as possible."

At those words, Lucille's pupils contracted violently. Her entire body shook uncontrollably.

She couldn't hear anything else that was said after that.

After finally catching her breath, she turned and fled back to her room, slamming the door behind her and locking it.

She rushed into the bathroom. With trembling hands, she tore off her nightgown and painfully twisted around to face the mirror.

Her back, which should have been smooth and fair, was covered in countless needle marks. Around the punctures were dark, ugly bruises caused by improper pressure after the needles had been removed.

"Mmph..."

She clamped a hand over her mouth and sobbed in horror.

Since becoming pregnant, she had never once bathed herself. Michael had always insisted on doing it for her. She had never thought to look at her own back.

Memories of his unusual behavior over the past several months flashed through her mind. The tears came even harder.

It turned out that every bit of tenderness that had once moved her was a lie.

No wonder she'd been feeling exhausted lately, sleeping so heavily every night.

It was because someone had been drawing her blood after she fell asleep!

Michael had never married her out of love.

He married her for her blood. And after taking her blood, he intended to take her life!

Lucille clutched her nine-month pregnant belly tightly.

The baby would be born any day now.

She would never allow anyone to hurt her child.

...

That evening, at the dinner table.

Michael's face carried its usual indifference, though the sharp coldness he'd shown in the study was gone.

He personally ladled a bowl of soup for her.

"You're weak. Drink this."

After being married to Michael for so long, he'd always given orders, and she'd long since grown accustomed to obeying them.

But this time, Lucille's hand froze around her utensils.

She looked at the man she'd been married to for two years. Every trace of his gentleness felt poisoned.

Her chest tightened violently.

He had said the baby needed to be gotten rid of.

Lucille abruptly stood up.

Crash!

The bowl shattered on the floor. It was just like their marriage—broken beyond repair.

Warm soup splashed across Michael's pant leg.

His eyes flickered briefly. A coldness surfaced in them before he quickly suppressed it.

Maintaining his patience, he reached out and touched her forehead as if comforting her. "Are you feeling unwell? Should I have Harry come take a look at you?"

"To draw my blood again?"

The moment the words left her mouth, silence swallowed the room.

Lucille bit down hard on her lip. Her eyes filled with tears, yet she stared at Michael with fierce determination.

She was waiting for an explanation.

But in the next second, her collar tightened. The answer he gave her was ruthless force.

He yanked her directly in front of him.

The warmth in his voice vanished, replaced by a dangerous chill. "So you found out?"

His grip tightened around her neck.

"Then you should understand that your only option is to cooperate."

That was right. She had never had a choice in front of him.

The Powells stood at the pinnacle of high society. Their business empire was vast enough to rival nations.

And Michael was the ruler of that empire!

Whatever he wanted, nobody dared stop him, and nobody could.

Lucille's hollow gaze met the icy indifference in his eyes. Tears streamed down her face like broken strands of pearls.

She could barely breathe. Looking at his sharply defined features, all she saw was coldness.

His grip wasn't cutting off her air, yet every breath hurt.

Seeing her face turn pale, Michael frowned. He released her abruptly and said darkly, "Since you already know, think about what compensation you want. I'll do my best to give it to you."

The grip around her collar disappeared. He turned and walked away without another glance at her as she slid weakly down the wall.

Compensation?

Lucille closed her eyes, concealing the sorrow within them.

Has everything been a scheme from the very beginning?

Her lips trembled numbly. "Tell me who she is."

She wanted to know who the woman was who made him abandon his wife and child.

Who could hold such an irreplaceable place in his heart?

Michael stopped and frowned, as if he hadn't expected that all she wanted was an answer.

But he still didn't reply.

Chapter 1 The Real Heiress Awakens

"Why couldn't I have been the heiress?

"How is it even possible to share a name with someone and be total polar opposites?

"If I were in her shoes, I swear my only job would be swiping the black card. I wouldn't screw anything up..."

After pulling an all-nighter to binge The Fake Heiress' Revenge, Natalie Sullivan was mumbling her grievances as she drifted into a deep sleep.

*****

"Natalie.

"Severe malnutrition combined with hypoglycemia caused the collapse."

A deep voice resonated near her ear. When Natalie peeled her eyes open, a medical report was the first thing she saw.

"This is the DNA analysis. Biologically speaking, you're my little sister—the seventh child in the family.

"I haven't figured out how you ended up outside the family loop. Our eldest brother, Tyler, will have to dig into the specifics, but don't stress—the Sullivans take care of their own."

The man speaking wore a sharp, bespoke suit, casually twisting a heavy gold signet ring on his pinky. He had the air of old money—polished, handsome, and academic. They were in a hospital ward, but his aura screamed top-tier traditional specialist.

The scenario, the dialogue... it matched the novel she'd just read perfectly.

The Sullivans of Eldoria—the richest family in the nation.

From this moment on, she was officially a billionaire heiress.

Jackpot!!!

Natalie stared eagerly at Oliver Sullivan—Eldoria's youngest and sharpest traditional medical prodigy, and now, her biological brother.

And Oliver was staring right back.

The Sullivans had five sons and one daughter. The fifth and sixth were twins, the "miracle babies" born late in the game.

Their mother had given birth to them at forty-one. Wyatt was born frail and constantly sickly, while Nicole was sharp as a tack and the picture of health.

Natalie's emaciated, unconscious frame was a spitting image of Wyatt back when he was bedridden—fragile, like she might snap in half.

When Natalie had been brought in after collapsing, someone had fetched Oliver. He'd recognized her face instantly—no doubt about it—but just to be safe, he'd swabbed her for a DNA test.

The results were definitive. She was a true Sullivan.

Which meant the girl currently at the house...

Oliver lowered his gaze. That girl wasn't his flesh and blood. She had zero genetic ties to the Sullivans.

But this one? This one was the real deal.

Technically, she was the real sister—but it didn't look like she had clued in yet.

The Natalie sitting in front of him seemed perfectly thrilled with her new identity, and the sparkle in her eyes was impossible to miss.

Oliver didn't comment. "Pick a time. I'll take you back to Sullivan Estate."

Things were undoubtedly chaotic, but if Natalie wanted to go home, she could—whenever she was ready.

In the original story, Natalie chose to go home immediately, of course. She even put on a whole performance in front of her mother, Hannah Clark, playing the fragile victim and throwing subtle shade at the female lead—which kicked off their feud. She'd even deliberately tanked her own health just to frame Nicole. Totally unhinged behavior.

Natalie looked down at her own stick-thin arms and decided she'd rather stuff her face and get her strength back first. No way was she playing the part of a tragic damsel. The Sullivans weren't going to disown her anyway, so she might as well seize the chance to let Oliver treat her.

Getting Oliver's help wasn't easy, but health came first—a strong body meant she could enjoy the influencer lifestyle way more comfortably.

Her eyes darted around the room, and Natalie dropped all pretense, calling out sweetly, "Oliver."

At that, Oliver's brow twitched. He didn't answer, but he didn't ignore her either. He just watched her in silence.

Natalie patted her stomach. "I'm starving."

"Go ahead."

Her system could handle food, so Oliver didn't stop her. Better to let her eat.

Natalie held out a hand. "I'm broke."

Oliver left speechless.

Right. She'd been dragged to the ER by a Good Samaritan after passing out from hunger.

He shot her a complicated look, then pulled out his phone. "I'll Venmo you."

Natalie fished out her shattered smartphone.

Oliver sighed. "I'll take you out to eat."

Yes! Real food!

Natalie hopped off the bed happily—then her legs gave out immediately, sliding her down to the floor like a wet noodle. She stared blankly at the ceiling. Her body was honestly pathetic right now!!!

Oliver took a sharp step back, ready to signal a nurse.

Right—she remembered. He was a massive germaphobe.

No help coming from that corner.

Natalie didn't want to make a scene, but she still had some dignity. Lying there in a heap was too embarrassing. "No, no, no."

"Don't bother anyone.

"I'm fine. Totally good.

"I got this!"

Oliver never did more than the bare minimum. Since Natalie claimed she could handle it, that was that.

As long as it didn't violate his principles, he considered himself an accommodating brother—but that policy only applied while she was still in the hospital. Once she went home, she was on her own.

His unspoken motto boiled down to two things. "Fend for yourself, and leave me alone."

Over on the floor, after about a minute of struggle, Natalie finally crawled back onto the bed and sprawled out like a starfish. Her mouth, however, kept running. "Oliver, can you order for me?"

Oliver was already mentally scrolling through which restaurants had the best delivery when Natalie rattled off.

"No cilantro.

"No vinegar.

"No fish.

"I have a sweet tooth..."

Before she could finish, Oliver shoved his unlocked phone into her hand. "Order it yourself."

Fine!

She fiddled with the phone for a second, then realized she needed the delivery address. "Nurse! Can you help me for a sec?"

Ten minutes later, the nurse left after answering her questions. Oliver walked back in right on cue and reclaimed his phone.

Ten minutes after that, Natalie got her first delivery—yes, first of many.

Five minutes later, a milkshake arrived.

Five more minutes, and a slice of cake showed up.

Another five minutes, and Oliver was back again.

With that many delivery drivers buzzing the intercom, how much was she planning to inhale?

Inside the room, watching Natalie demolish fried chicken, fries, a burger, milkshake, and cake, Oliver finally pinched the bridge of his nose. "Why are you putting this garbage in your body?"

"These places deliver the fastest. I was about to starve to death!" Natalie was genuinely ravenous—she needed calories, ASAP.

She sounded sincere and earnest.

Oliver unlocked his phone and saw two new food delivery apps installed. He tapped in and saw they were both Natalie's orders—she'd even stacked coupons, and the special notes all said things like "ASAP pls hurry hurry hurry."

Even at their hungriest, no Sullivan would ever eat like they'd been rescued from a desert island.

He ran his mouth nitpicking nonstop, yet there she went ordering nothing but junk food with zero nutritional value.

As for him? He couldn't stomach a single bite—all he could do was sit there, just breathing in the fumes.

His own biological sister was indeed...

Really high-maintenance.

And not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed.

As a doctor, he couldn't stand watching a weak patient neglect their health—especially when that patient was his own flesh and blood.

But he was lazy.

So annoying.

Didn't want to deal with it.

He'd raised Wyatt from birth, and his motto had always been "as long as he doesn't die". Nicole had always been the one looking after Wyatt, anyway.

Thinking about what a pain Wyatt had been, Oliver promptly dialed a number. "Tyler. Come get Natalie."

Chapter 2 Family Reunion

The sun dipped below the horizon, giving way to a silver moon ascending the night sky. Under the mid-July stars, the air hung heavy and stagnant—absolutely still. The whole world felt suffocatingly close.

On summer evenings in the past, Natalie's idea of nirvana was curling up in an air-conditioned room, binge-watching her favorite shows with an ice-cold slice of watermelon and a fizzy sea-salt soda within arm's reach.

But tonight, she sat bolt upright in a sleek, modern mansion. The space paired crisp minimalism with subtle vintage furnishings steeped in classic traditional craftsmanship, the epitome of old-money elegance.

She still found herself swept up by the plot that forced her to return to Sullivan Estate the moment she learned her true identity. However, her motivation was vastly different from the original Natalie's dramatic antics and hysterical desperation.

Chapter 1

Don Killian Voss forced me to sign divorce papers, demoting me from the Lady of the house to a hidden mistress, to make way for his new love.

I signed without blinking.

He pulled his new girl closer and sneered at me,

"Vera brings power. You bring nothing."

The next morning, his entire dock headquarters was locked down—completely surrounded.

Then Lorenzo, head of staff to the most powerful mafia family in New Yxrk, bowed to me and spoke with respect.

"Miss Valentino. The Don says that you've had your fun. It's time to come home and take your place."

Killian and Vera dropped to their knees right there, scared out of their minds.

As I slipped the Valentino signet ring onto my finger, Lorenzo's cold gaze swept across the room.

"I just received word. Who exactly thought they could lay a hand on the sole heir of the Valentino family?"

…

The divorce papers stamped with the Voss family seal sat in the center of the blackwood table.

Killian's consigliere kept his head lowered as he spoke.

"Sierra. Mr. Voss said if you sign the papers, you'll never have to worry about money again. The Council already voted unanimously. Vera Moretti is the one they see as fit to sit in the Lady Voss seat."

I looked through the windows overlooking the New Yxrk harbor. Shipping containers stretched across the harbor for miles. I had built this empire with Killian.

And now? Killian was sitting in the booth next to ours, laughing and chatting with Vera Moretti—a washed-up old mafia heiress from a fallen family.

Vera wore a black dress, the Moretti family crest hanging from a necklace at her collar.

Her crimson nails slid slowly across Killian's waist as she looked at me with elegant contempt.

After coaxing Vera with a few soft words, Killian finally turned to look at me. His voice was cold.

"Don't make this difficult, Sierra. The wife of this family needs to strengthen the empire. "Vera brings weapons contracts, political access, and old-blood connections. You've never accomplished a thing.

"Three years, and all you know how to do is burn cash. Here's the deal. You sign the papers, and you walk away with three million dollars and the villa.

"In return, you stay out of sight. You're mine when I call for you, and you don't make a sound about any of it. I'll make sure you live comfortably in New Yxrk for the rest of your life."

I didn't even get a chance to answer before Vera clicked over on her heels.

"Sierra, don't blame Killian. He's doing this for the future of the Voss family. Just sign the papers."

Three years.

Killian went from a street thug fighting over alleyways to the Don of the Voss family, controlling half of New Yxrk Harbor.

And I was there for every step. I had his back the whole way.

When rival families cut off his cash flow, and his men started deserting him, I sold the only thing my mother ever left me—an heirloom emerald signet ring.

I funneled weapons and cash to cover his shortfall.

But everything I gave him? He acted as if none of it mattered. Just brushed it off with that one line—"You've never accomplished a thing."

I didn't bother looking at their faces anymore. Just signed my name clean and fast.

"Deal. I don't need an ungrateful bastard like you anyway. You two deserve each other—trash and trash. Stay together forever."

Killian's expression darkened instantly.

Vera slipped herself against his chest, all honeyed charm.

"Oh, don't waste your energy on her," she purred. "Once we're married, the Moretti weapons network becomes yours. Why would you ever look backward?"

I buried my mother on a Tuesday.

I came home Friday.

My husband didn't hug me. He slid a piece of paper across the marble island.

An itemized bill. For $10,000.

In my own house.

"You were gone three weeks, Emma." Brandon's tone was clipped, like he was reviewing a vendor contract. "The household didn't pause just because you did. Your share of expenses, plus the extra labor Mom took on while you were... away."

Away. At my mother's hospice bed. Holding her hand while she stopped breathing.

I looked down at the paper. His mother's handwriting—neat, deliberate, proud of itself.

Household contribution arrears: $5,500. Domestic labor performed by Patricia (cooking, cleaning, errands): $150/day x 21 days. Utilities surcharge. Emotional disruption fee. TOTAL DUE: $10,000.

Emotional disruption fee.

I read it three times, waiting for it to turn into a joke.

I looked at Patricia, my mother-in-law, perched on the couch with her tea. The woman whose heart surgery I'd paid for. The woman who called me the daughter I never had.

She sighed, long-suffering. "Emma, sweetheart, this family runs on fairness. Everyone contributes. You can't expect to disappear for a month and have a free ride."

A free ride.

I pay the mortgage on this house. Every month. $5,000, auto-deducted from my salary. I paid for the renovation—every tile, every light fixture, every inch of that marble island Brandon was leaning on like he owned the world.

I turned to my sister-in-law, Chloe, curled in the armchair scrolling her phone. Twenty-six years old, living here rent-free for two years. She didn't even look up.

"Honestly, Em, don't make it weird," she said. "Even married couples should keep clean books. You stayed gone. You pay."

I waited for Brandon to laugh. To tell me grief had made me hallucinate.

He held my gaze and said, "It's not personal. It's just fair."

Eight years of marriage. The man who once drove four hours in a snowstorm because I sounded sad on the phone. The man who promised my mother—promised her, at our wedding—that I would never carry anything alone again.

That man was looking at me like a landlord looks at a late tenant.

Something inside me went very, very quiet.

"Okay," I said.

Brandon blinked. Patricia's teacup paused halfway to her lips. Even Chloe looked up.

I pulled out my phone and transferred $10,000 to Brandon's account, right there, standing in my funeral clothes with my dead mother's perfume still on my collar.

His phone chimed. The tension dissolved into smiles.

"See?" Patricia beamed, patting his arm. "I told you she'd be reasonable."

They didn't waste a minute. By that evening, Chloe had booked it: five nights in Aspen. A "family decompression trip"—their words—because apparently my absence had been so stressful for them.

Funded entirely by my $10,000.

The next morning I stood at the window and watched them load matching luggage into Brandon's SUV. The SUV I co-signed for. Patricia laughed at something Chloe said. Brandon honked twice, cheerfully, the way he used to when we left for our honeymoon.

Nobody asked if I wanted to come.

Nobody asked how the funeral was.

They pulled out of the driveway glowing, three happy people off to spend a dead woman's daughter's money on heated pools and rib-eye.

I stood in the house I had built with my own hands and my own paychecks, and I felt the grief inside me harden into something else. Something cold. Something with edges.

They thought they'd be coming home to their beautiful house.

They had no idea what would be waiting for them.

Chapter 2: What I Paid For

Here's what they conveniently forgot while they were drafting my invoice.

When Brandon inherited this house from his grandmother, it was a gutted shell. Rotted floors. Dead wiring. A kitchen from 1974. He stood in the wreckage of it and almost cried, because he couldn't afford to fix a single room.

I could. Barely.

I'd been saving since my first job—my "someday" fund. I emptied it. $238,000. I managed every contractor, compared every faucet, drove to three states for the right floorboards. I worked sixty-hour weeks and spent my weekends covered in paint samples.

The day it was finished, Brandon stood in the living room with tears in his eyes and said, "You didn't just build a house, Em. You built us. Everything I have is yours."

The deed stayed in his name. "Simpler for taxes," he said. "What's mine is yours anyway."

I believed him. God help me, I believed him.

Then came the mortgage on the addition, the one he insisted on so his mother could move in. $5,000 a month. He was "between promotions." I set up the auto-payment from my salary. Temporary, he said.

That was two years ago. It never stopped.

Chapter 1 Ding! The System Has Arrived

Plelas, Blackthorn University.

Dorm 302, Girls' Residence Hall.

"Megan, seriously, try not to think about him anymore. Wally is after your money. A guy like that isn't worth ruining yourself over."

"Exactly! There are tons of men out there. If this one's garbage, just replace him. Tomorrow I'll call up all the guys from my hometown group. Seniors, freshmen, everybody. You can pick whichever one you like and make that jerk regret dumping you."

Megan Harmon sat there in a daze. The two girls in front of her kept talking, trying their best to comfort her, but Megan's mind was still spinning. Even now, she could barely believe what had happened. She had transmigrated.

The girl whose body she now occupied was also named Megan, a sophomore at Blackthorn University.

According to her roommates, original Megan had been dating a guy named Wally Field since freshman year.

But not long ago, she saw him at the campus gate, carrying another girl from the same university into a luxury car. The girl weighed over 200 pounds.

Original Megan confronted him right there. Instead of apologizing, Wally dumped her on the spot.

Everyone knew why. He wanted a richer girlfriend. That was precisely why original Megan couldn't let it go. Heartbroken and furious, she dragged her two closest roommates out drinking to drown her sorrows and ended up drinking herself to death.

Which was how Megan ended up here.

There was so much nonsense packed into this situation that Megan honestly didn't know what to say.

"Ding! Host detected awake. Would you like to bind with the system?"

Megan froze for a second before answering firmly, "No."

She had read enough system novels in her previous life to know better. Who knew what this thing actually was? What if it was some scam system that drained her life or stole her soul? She had only just arrived in this world. She wasn't trying to die twice.

"Ding! Queen M System successfully bound. Congratulations, Host, on taking your first step toward becoming a gorgeous woman with wealth and beauty."

Megan was speechless.

Apparently, her opinion meant absolutely nothing.

"Ding! Congratulations! You have received a Beginner Gift Pack: 1x GeneX Serum. Would you like to claim it?"

Megan didn't say anything out loud. She asked silently in her mind, What's GeneX Serum?

The system's sweet, childish voice rang out in her mind.

"GeneX Serum gradually optimizes the host's genes and improves the body to its most perfect state. It is recommended that the host drink it as soon as possible."

Megan paused. If she suddenly becomes prettier, won't people think she got herself some cosmetic surgery?

"GeneX Serum works gradually. It will not cause suspicion.

"Queen M System is legit and professional. Please do not compare it to those shady bargain-bin systems."

Megan twitched at the corner of her mouth. Before she could respond, the system added quietly, "This is a trustworthy system. It only helps the Host become richer, prettier, and more successful. It will never harm the host."

Megan suddenly felt weirdly guilty, like she'd been caught talking trash behind someone's back.

She glanced at her roommates. The two girls were still passionately insulting Wally while trying to cheer her up. Finally, Megan raised her hand weakly. "Hmm, I know you girls mean well, but I kind of need to use the restroom."

The girls exchanged suspicious looks, clearly worried she might do something stupid, but they still let her go.

As one of the country's top universities, Blackthorn University had excellent dorm conditions. Every room came with its own private bathroom.

The second Megan shut the door, she whispered in her mind, Claim it.

A small blue bottle instantly appeared in her hand.

Megan stared at it for a while before making up her mind.

Now that she knew the system wasn't dangerous, who wouldn't want to become prettier?

She opened the bottle and drank everything in one gulp. After finishing the serum, Megan immediately stood in front of the mirror with excitement.

Original Megan's looks were only average at best. Her complexion was sallow, and all the drinking had made it look dull and tired.

Megan widened her eyes and stared at herself. Before she could notice any changes, a layer of dark grime suddenly started leaking out from her skin.

Well, now she definitely had to shower.

By the time Megan finally cleaned herself up and stood in front of the mirror again, she immediately noticed the difference.

Her nose looked slightly sharper. Her hairline had moved forward a little. Her features all seemed subtly improved, though nobody would notice unless they looked carefully.

Her pores had become smaller, too. Her skin looked brighter. Even the little bit of belly fat she used to have was reduced.

If her original appearance had been a six out of ten, now she could barely reach a solid seven.

Megan's eyes lit up with surprise. It really works!

After admiring herself enough, she finally asked her roommates to pass her a fresh set of clothes.

The dorm room had four girls in total. One of the girls who had been comforting her was named Zea Kinsman. She was tiny and cute, the classic sweet Southern girl.

The other was Veronica Lamb. She came from the Wrephia Region and stood almost 5'8". She always acted like the big sister of the dorm. The idea about gathering upperclassmen and freshmen for Megan to choose from earlier had been hers.

The last roommate was Astrid Dunn. She was local to Plelas and rarely stayed in the dorm, so Megan was closest to Zea and Veronica.

The moment the girls saw Megan walk out of the bathroom, they both let out obvious sighs of relief.

Veronica stepped forward and pulled Megan into a hug. "That's more like it! A cute, fresh-looking girl like you? Wally doesn't even deserve you."

The two of them had been worried Megan would lock herself in the bathroom and cry in secret. But looking at her now, she was glowing. There wasn't even a trace of that miserable, heartbroken look from before.

Zea grinned beside them. "Exactly! My bestie is gorgeous. Screw that loser!"

Megan smiled and quietly let out a sigh of relief. The system really knew what it was doing. Neither Zea nor Veronica had noticed the tiny changes in her appearance.

"I told you already, this is a decent system. Nobody will suspect a thing."

The system's weak, little voice echoed in her head. At the same time, a transparent screen appeared in front of her.

Host: Megan Harmon

Age: 19

Height: 5'3" (Upgradeable)

Beauty Score: 6.1 (Upgradeable)

Queen M Progress Bar: 1.5% (Total Progress: 100%)

Megan was puzzled.

She had just said her looks had to be at least a seven now, and the system gave her a 6.1? Was it doing this on purpose?

And what was this 1.5% progress bar supposed to mean? She had been secretly happy for a few seconds, only to find out she hadn't even reached 2% of "Queen M" status yet!

"The system's evaluation is based on all the information in this world. It is the most accurate rating possible, so please do not doubt the scores.

"Also, becoming a queen isn't just about looks. Knowledge, temperament, and personal ability all count too. The more rewards you earn from daily check-ins, the higher your score will become.

"Ding! It has been detected that the host has not checked in today. Would you like to check in now?"

"Check in," Megan answered immediately without even hesitating.

"Ding! Congratulations! You have received 1 million Fangcoins. The system has automatically credited them to your account. Please check it."

Megan was speechless. "Couldn't you just give me cash instead?"

The original Megan liked gaming and watched livestreams often, so having a FangStream account wasn't strange.

She picked up her phone, opened the FangStream app, and tapped into her profile.

Sure enough, 1 million Fangcoins were sitting quietly in her balance.

Megan's emotions instantly became complicated.

The system really was loaded. One million Fangcoins converted directly into one million dollars.

Which brought her back to the same question—why couldn't he just give me cash?!

"Ding! Virtual currency spent by the host will be returned as cash rewards at 10 to 100 times the amount spent. Please explore the system yourself."

Megan's eyes lit up. "Can I tip myself?"

The system fell silent at this.

"Cash farming is prohibited! The host's ultimate goal is to become a top-tier queen! A true queen would never obsess over such tiny amounts of money!"

"Fine," Megan said.

Even with terrible luck, 1 million Fangcoins would still return at least 10 million dollars in cash. The moment she thought about that, the last bit of resentment in her heart disappeared completely.

Chapter 1

The day I found out I was pregnant, Kane lost control on the full moon and rutted a low-ranked Omega.

The next morning he knelt in front of me, gold eyes blown red, and slapped himself across the face. Twice.

"Selena, I've already cast her out of the pack. She'll never come near us again."

"Forgive me. Just this once. I swear on the Moon Goddess — from now on, it's only you and the pup."

I was still holding the ultrasound the doctor had pressed into my hand an hour earlier.

I believed him.

Three months later I rode out to inspect the border.

On the brightest night of the moon, a wave of heat slammed down the mate-bond.

It wasn't mine.

A second later an image was shoved — deliberately shoved — into my mind.

Kane. Pinning that Omega. Lilith. In our bedroom.

And a sonogram. Three months along. Strong heartbeat.

I dropped to my knees in the snow. My stomach cramped. Warm blood ran down the inside of my thigh.

By the time my aide hauled me into the infirmary I was already half-gone.

The doctor said the only thing that could save the pup was a blood-binding ritual — performed in person, by the Alpha.

I poured the last of my strength into the bond and called for Kane.

On his end: silence.

He'd closed me out.

By the time he staggered through the door my baby was already gone — washed out of me in a slick of blood, soaking into the dirt floor.

He grabbed me, his voice shaking.

"Selena — the pup's gone, I know, I know — but Lilith's can't be lost too —"

"Just hold on. When hers is born I'll send her up to the Far North. We'll raise the pup as ours. Okay?"

I didn't cry.

I lay against his chest and slowly, very slowly, remembered a name I had buried ten years ago.

A voice — low, controlled, like a dark river running under ice.

"…Luna of Frostmoon. I'll wait for you. However long it takes."

Lilith's pup was born on a day the whole Frostmoon pack was howling with joy.

"Look at those eyes — pure Alpha blood!"

"Same brow, same jaw — spitting image of the Alpha!"

Kane, who hadn't smiled in public for years, couldn't keep the corner of his mouth from twitching up.

How funny.

If my baby had lived, he would have been born this same week.

Kane spotted me in the doorway and his face lit up. He carried the tiny bundle over and held it out to me.

"Selena. Look at him. He's ours now."

I said nothing.

Kane's mother, Catherine, stepped between us, watching me the way you'd watch a half-feral bitch in heat.

"Done throwing your tantrum yet? If you hadn't gone riding the border while pregnant, the pup would still be alive."

Kane scrambled. "Mother, please — Selena is grieving too."

Catherine sniffed. "We've chosen the pup's name. Dawn. Selena — as Luna of this pack, try to behave like one."

Dawn.

I almost laughed out loud.

Dawn was the name Kane had whispered against my belly in my second month of pregnancy. He'd said, He'll be like you, Selena. The light that cuts through the dark.

Now he'd pinned that light onto somebody else's child.

I turned and walked out.

Lilith caught me at the top of the stairs. Still pale from labor, cheeks flushed pink, eyes wide and gentle as a doe's.

"Luna…" She rose on her toes and breathed it into my ear, soft as a feather. "When you saw us through the bond… how clearly did you see?"

Then she threw herself backward down the staircase.

Her scream split the hallway.

Kane came tearing out of the bedroom, scooped her off the floor, and looked up at me with ice in his eyes for the very first time.

"Selena — she just gave birth! When did you turn this cruel?"

Cruel.

In ten years he had never used that word on me.

Lilith tugged weakly at his sleeve. "Alpha… don't blame Luna. I lost my footing…"

Kane's voice went up a notch. "Selena. Whatever your feelings are, she is Dawn's mother. If you can't bear to live under one roof with her, you move out of the main house."

I lowered my head.

My nails had cut into my palms. Blood was already dripping onto the marble.

I didn't let anyone see.

The snow outside the main house went on forever.

I dragged my suitcase out the door I had carved the Frostmoon sigil into with my own hands ten years ago.

On the other end of the bond, Kane didn't call me back.

He sent one text:

[Selena — when you're done sulking, come home. I'll wait.]

I lay on the floorboards of the new house all night.

The moon hung outside the window, cold as a slab of iron.

I opened our message thread and typed:

[Kane. Dissolve the mate-bond.]

Chapter 1

The staff member shook his head apologetically. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we can’t change the seats now. The match is about to start any minute.”

--------

Our family clutched our hard-won World Cup tickets. When we finally reached the very last row, we stopped in our tracks. The middle seat was completely wrecked — the cushion torn open, metal frame exposed. Totally unusable.

Mom’s face turned bright red. “What is this?!” she shouted. “We paid so much for these tickets!” She grabbed my brother and stormed off to find the staff. Before leaving, she looked back at me with her usual worried expression. “Scarlett, stay right next to Raphael, okay? Don’t wander off. It’s too crowded. If you feel hot or uncomfortable, tell me right away.”

I nodded quietly, looking like the perfect daughter. But inside, I was secretly thrilled. Finally… some time alone with Raphael.

On the surface I stayed calm, but my mind was racing. Ever since Mom remarried, Raphael had become the strong center of our home. He was a retired professional soccer player — broad shoulders, narrow waist, and that powerfully built body that always drew my eyes. What kept me awake at night was that one accidental glimpse I caught of him in the shower… that image had lingered in my mind ever since, stirring feelings I knew I shouldn’t have.

Mom paced back and forth, still complaining. She turned to check on me twice, pressing her hand to my forehead. “Scarlett, your face is red. Is it too crowded? Are you okay?”

I tried to stay calm. “Mom, it’s fine,” I said softly. “There’s no time left. Let’s just watch the game first.”

Mom sighed. “Alright…” She glanced at Raphael. “You’re okay with her sitting on your lap?”

Raphael nodded. “Of course.”

My brother offered, “Mom, you can sit on my lap,” but Mom shook her head. “No, the game is too long. I’m too heavy.”

So the decision was made.

I stood up, my pulse hammering. I walked over to Raphael and turned around. The moment I slowly lowered myself onto his lap, a huge wave of shame washed over me.

His thighs felt incredibly firm and warm beneath me. I could feel the heat of his strong body through our clothes. As I settled fully against him, his broad chest pressed against my back, radiating steady warmth. His breathing grew a little heavier, brushing warmly against my ear. That familiar, comforting male scent surrounded me, making my whole body soften. My legs trembled slightly.

Every point of contact felt electric — the solid strength of his thighs under me, the rise and fall of his chest against my back, and his big hands resting gently on my hips to steady me.

I tried to sit normally and look innocent, but my heart was racing. Oh god… I’m really sitting on Raphael’s lap… This is so wrong… but it feels so good…

The referee’s whistle blew. The game started.

The stadium erupted in a deafening roar. The seats shook violently. Fans behind me kept bumping into my back, pushing me forward again and again, pressing me even closer against Raphael.

The air felt thick and warm. I pretended to watch the field, but all my attention was on him — every small movement of his body, every shift, and the way the warmth between us seemed to grow stronger.

Raphael leaned close, his lips almost touching my ear. In a low, calm voice he began explaining the game. “See that formation? They’re playing a 4-3-3 today…”

His warm breath sent shivers down my spine.

Mom is sitting right in front of us… and I’m on Raphael’s lap, feeling his body respond to mine… This is so shameful… but I don’t want it to stop…

His hands stayed on my hips, holding me a little tighter. His breathing grew deeper. And I could feel the unmistakable warmth and firmness growing beneath me.

Chapter 2

Whenever the fans behind us jumped up to cheer, the entire row would shake. I used those moments.

First, I let myself lean forward just a tiny bit, then slowly pressed my body back down against him. I could feel Raphael’s reaction clearly. What started as a warm, heavy presence gradually became fuller, firmer, pressing up against me through our clothes.

I repeated the motion, even slower this time.

Lean forward slightly… pause… then ease back down, letting my body settle more fully against his. The heat between us kept building with every small movement.

My breathing grew quicker. I tried to control it, but it was getting harder to hide how affected I was.

The noisy, crowded environment made everything more intense. Each time the seats rocked, I was pressed tighter against him. The guy to my right occasionally brushed against me, but my focus remained completely on Raphael.

I “accidentally” rested one hand on his thigh, then slowly drew soft little circles with my fingers. His muscles tensed under my touch.

Raphael’s breathing grew heavier. He leaned closer and whispered, “Cold, Scarlett? Daddy will hold you tighter.”

His gentle words made my heart flutter wildly.

The handsome Italian guy on my right glanced over again. He was strikingly attractive, with sharp features and charming eyes. A small, playful smile touched his lips as he noticed my flushed cheeks.

Inside my head, everything was chaos.

Mom is sitting right in front of us… and I’m moving against Raphael like this… This is so wrong… but I can’t stop… He feels so warm and strong… I want more…

I grew braver.

Instead of just moving back and forth, I began making small, slow circling motions with my hips — tiny clockwise, then counterclockwise. I could feel every inch of his growing response against me.

I added gentle forward and backward movements, pressing down a little more each time.

Raphael finally couldn’t hold back. He leaned in, his voice low and husky against my ear. “Baby… do you know what you’re doing to me?”

Chapter 1

"Alright! Anyone who's been a homewrecker—DRINK UP!"

Truth or dare. Someone shoves a drink forward.

Nobody moves.

Then Finn's "girl bro" Nora slides a glass toward ME. Grinning.

"Actually, Finn and I got married a year ago. So technically? You're the homewrecker. Come on, bottoms up."

My hands shake. I look at him.

Waiting for him to say something. Anything.

Finn just shrugs.

"Lost a dare. We went and signed papers. Figured we'd undo it someday."

"Then one night we hooked up. Her parents were on her case about marriage, so I just... stayed married. Easier that way."

"But babe, relax. Nora and I are just bros. YOU'RE the one I love."

Amazing.

I just stare at him.

Feel like someone just ripped my lungs out. Can't breathe.

Finn pinches my cheek. Smiles like none of this matters.

"Wedding's still happening next month. She gets the certificate. You get the ceremony. Win-win, right?"

Eight years. Gone.

I don't cry. Just pull out my phone.

Text my dad:

"I'll do the arranged marriage."

---

"Come on, Summer—drink it. What, you scared or something?"

Nora's right in my face with the glass, looking way too happy about this.

Everyone starts going crazy.

"Yeah! They're actually married—so drink up!"

They're all staring at me like I'm some kind of joke.

Finn's friends have messed with me before.

But not like this. Not right in front of everyone.

He used to tell them to stop.

But ever since Nora came back from London? He doesn't do that anymore.

Now he just looks at me like I'm being annoying and says:

"Why are you being so dramatic? They're just messing around."

I bite my tongue. Taste blood.

Finn's sitting there with his arms crossed. Smirking.

Like he's waiting for me to just drink it and shut up.

When he sees how pale I look, he squeezes my hand.

"Babe, just drink it. Everyone's looking. Don't make it weird."

I pull my hand back.

"So you think I'm the other woman too?"

He puts his arm around me, voice all gentle.

"No one's saying that. It's just a game."

I push him away.

"Don't touch me. She's your wife."

His face changes. Now he's pissed.

"What are you so upset about? Me and Nora are friends. The marriage thing was a joke. I was helping her out with her parents. Why does it matter?"

Nora cuts in, trying to smooth things over.

"Summer, seriously. Finn and I are just friends."

Then she smiles, all innocent.

"That one time? He was so drunk he thought I was you. Guy was desperate—I could barely walk the next day. Honestly, he was terrible. If we weren't friends, I would've killed him."

She hits Finn's chest, laughing.

Finn grabs her wrist and pulls her onto his lap.

"I was terrible? You were the one wrapping your legs around me, wouldn't let me pull out."

Nora's face turns red. Sits on his lap and covers his mouth.

"Shut up!"

Then she looks at me, acting all sweet.

"If the marriage thing bothers you, I'll get a divorce tomorrow. I'll drink this instead—sorry about everything."

Finn's face changes. He grabs the glass from her.

"What are you doing? You're on your period. You can't drink."

"And I never said I'd divorce you. Your mom's just gonna bug you again."

My chest hurts so bad I can barely breathe.

My parents have been telling me to get married for years.

Every time, Finn would say: "It's just paper. We don't need it."

Guess it matters. Just not with me.

I waited eight years for something he gave his "bro" when he was drunk.

Finn finally looks at me. His face is cold. He pushes the glass into my hand.

"Summer, stop acting like a child. You lost. Drink it and get over it."

I laugh. It sounds empty.

Chapter 001

KATY’S POV

“Hey, I’m heading over now. Can you bring out the books I left?”

I press send and shove my phone into my jacket pocket as Bryan’s townhouse comes into view, my steps automatically quickening.

I have Statistics in thirty minutes, and Mrs. Tompson would rather swallow a jean jacket than let me walk into her class without my textbook, the same textbook I managed to leave lying around in my boyfriend’s room.

As I walk faster, I recheck my phone, half expecting a reply, but there’s nothing. Not even a typing bubble.

For a moment, I wonder if he has already left, but it‘s unlikely. It’s only 9:30 in the morning, and Bryan never leaves his room early. One of the perks of being a baseball player is that he doesn’t have to treat academics like life or death the way I do.

I reach his townhouse and take the stairs two at a time, my purse bouncing against my h*p.

The higher I climb, the more rushed my breathing feels, though it has less to do with the stairs and more to do with this creeping frustration that he still hasn’t texted back.

By the time I get to the third floor, where his room is, I’m already picturing walking in and tossing a sarcastic comment about how hard it is to answer a simple text.

My hand reaches for his doorknob when I hear his voice through the door.

“Hurry up, my girlfriend will be here soon.”

I freeze.

“You need to leave.”

Who is he talking to?

The question barely forms before the door flies open and a girl rushes out, nearly colliding with me. My breath hitches. She gasps, her eyes wide with a mix of panic and shame.

In the sliver of a second before she bolts, I take in her messy red hair, wrinkled shirt, and unbuttoned jeans. A sickening masculine scent, one I recognize very well, clings to her.

My gaze snaps to Bryan, who is standing in the middle of the room in nothing but his boxers, his own chest b**e, and his hair tousled.

A cold, sharp shiver runs down my spine, stealing the air from my lungs. My knees go weak, and the knot in my stomach turns to a solid block of ice.

Without a word, the girl tears past me, disappearing down the hallway. My fingers begin to tremble, and my heart hammers so hard it feels like it will burst through my ribs. I stumble back, a bitter taste rising in my throat.

“Baby, wait.” Bryan’s voice follows me as he steps into the hallway. I spin around and run, determined to put as much distance as I can between us, my chest burning with anger.

He catches me, his hands clamping around my wrist before I can escape, spinning me back toward him and blocking my path. "Baby, let's talk.”

"Let go of me," I snap, my voice shaking. "Don't t***h me!" I shove against his chest, but he doesn't budge.

He tugs me toward his room, his grip tight. "It's better if we go inside. Everyone can hear us out here."

Inside, I shove him away, my chest rising and falling with quick breaths. I want to demand answers, but I already know the truth. The evidence is everywhere: in the rumpled sheets, the scent of her perfume, and the desperate, guilty look in his eyes.

He paces the room, running a hand through his hair before stopping and grabbing my shoulder. "I messed up, okay?" He drags a hand over his face. "It was a mistake.”

My eyes twitch. “A mistake?”

“Yeah, baby," he says, his eyes skittering away from mine. "Some of the guys came over last night. We drank too much. I got so shift-faced I… I thought she was you. I don't even remember half of it.”

I blink, unable to process his words. My mind stumbles over them, each syllable making less sense than the last. Did he really just say that? Does he actually expect me to believe this pathetic lie?

I stare at him, my mouth slightly open, waiting for him to take the words back. But he doesn't. He just holds my gaze, searching my face as if he's trying to see if I'm stupid enough to swallow his bucket of lies.

“You… you thought she was me?” I choke out in anger. “Are you actually serious right now?”

“Yes, baby, I'm serious. I didn't mean it. It was a mistake," he insists. "And honestly, she came on to me first. How was I supposed to resist when I was drunk? Come on, you know I love you.”

A bitter laugh escapes my l**s. "Cheating is one thing, Bryan," I snap, taking a step toward him, "but thinking I'm stupid enough to believe your lies? That's a whole other level.”

The Proposal.

Jessica's Pov

“Mhmm…” I let out a soft moan, my fingers kneading my breasts as waves of pleasure rippled through me.

The rose vibrator hummed relentlessly against my clit, drawing stars across my vision, but in my fevered imagination, it wasn’t silicone—it was Aaron’s mouth, his tongue teasing me with a wicked precision only he could dream up.

Heavens, the thought of him, my roommate, my eternal crush, had me teetering on the edge.

“Yes,” I hissed, cranking up the speed, my hips bucking involuntarily.

I was so close, stars bursting behind my eyelids, when—damn it—the jingle of keys shattered the silence, followed by the unmistakable creak of the front door.

No. No, no, no. Not again. This was the second time this week he’d ruined my orgasm.

I flicked off the toy with a frustrated groan and shoved it under my pillow, my chest rising and falling like I’d just hauled up a flight of stairs.

Sweat beaded on my forehead, even though the room was cool from the slightly open window, and blasting air conditioner.

I froze, my eyes glued to the ceiling as I listened to his heavy footsteps thud closer.

Our bedroom door creaked open, and I slammed my eyes shut, my heart slamming against my ribs.

Please don’t smell it, I begged silently. The air was thick with my scent, musky and unapologetic. Could he? Guys were supposed to have that sixth sense, right?

And worse…..what if he’d heard me moaning his name earlier? That would be mortifying.

“Quit faking it, Jess. I know you’re wide awake.” His voice rolled over me like dark honey, deep enough to drown in, vibrating through the quiet room and straight to my already throbbing pussy.

I stayed perfectly still, holding my breath, hoping he’d buy it and leave.

The silence dragged on, and I figured he’d given up, stalked off to the bathroom or the kitchen.

I cracked one eye open to peek, and there he was, his gorgeous face hovering inches from mine, those honey-brown eyes sparkling with an infuriating mix of mischief and mockery.

A squeak escaped me, half-yelp, half-laugh, and I slapped my palms over my burning cheeks.

“Jesus, Aaron! Personal space much?”

He chuckled, low and rough, pulling back just enough to loom instead of invade.

“Why are you still awake? I thought you had that big test tomorrow.” He straightened up, his tone casual, like he hadn’t just scared the life out of me.

I sat up slowly, pulling my knees to my chest and wrapping my arms around them, trying to hide how flustered I was.

He turned away then, thank God, yanking off his jersey in one smooth pull.

Sweat glistened on his inked muscles, the tattoos flexing as he moved—dragons and symbols that told stories I was dying to trace with my fingers.

I heard my pussy purr, and I pressed my knees tight to prevent the juices from coating my bed. Down, girl. Not now.

I’ve been in love with Aaron Tyrone for what feels like forever.

It’s been my quiet curse since we were kids scraping knees in the neighborhood. He was the villain in my story back then—my next-door bully, the one everyone whispered about like he was cursed.

“Bad news,” they’d say, crossing the street to avoid him. But my bruised little heart? It latched on anyway, because it was the only attention I ever got from anyone.

At home, I was invisible. My dad poured all his love into my step-siblings, and my stepmom never missed a chance to remind me I was “bad luck” because Mom died giving birth to me. I was the shadow girl, overlooked and forgotten.

And yeah, Aaron was hot—even at twelve, with that jaw already cutting edges, dark hair flopping over his forehead until he’d shove it back, revealing those endless brown eyes that could pin you in place. Straight nose, lips made for sin—I’d replayed kissing them in a million stolen dreams.

He bullied me, sure, but he’d muscle in like a guard dog if anyone else tried: “Back off, she’s mine to mess with.” Toxic as hell. I knew it, I should have bolted. But that possessiveness? It hooked me deep, and damn if I didn’t crave the burn.

How we ended up roommates? Pure desperation. College dorms filled up before I could snag a spot, and apartments were insanely pricey.

Where was I supposed to get the cash? Dad? Puh-lease. I had no friends—thanks to my locked-away childhood that made Rapunzel look free-spirited, and sharing with a stranger sounded like a nightmare.

Aaron lived near campus, so I swallowed my pride and asked him for help. He grumbled, but he said yes. Turns out, under that mean streak, he’s not entirely heartless.

Living with him, though? Torture. Sleeping just feet away from temptation every night pushed me over the edge. I deflowered myself with toys just to cope, imagining it was him.

How do you sleep next to fire and not get scorched?

“Are you even listening to me? What’s got you spacing out?” He snapped his fingers in front of my face, jolting me back.

“Huh?” I blinked, my gaze locking onto his eyes.

They were warm as bourbon, sucking me under like quicksand. I could drown happily there.

He huffed, and raked a hand through his tousled hair, leaving it even messier. Sexy bedhead on steroids. I thought.

“I said, I need you to come somewhere with me this weekend.”

“A date?” The words tumbled out before I could stop them, my heart leaping stupidly.

His face crumpled—surprise? Irritation?—and he barked a laugh that didn’t reach his eyes.

“In your dreams, maybe.”

The words landed like a gut punch, but I played it off, rolling my eyes with a snort.

“Ouch. Way to crush a girl’s ego at midnight.” Inside, though? It hollowed me out, but I’d take scraps over nothing.

“My grandpa’s throwing this big family dinner. Everyone’s gonna be there.” He leaned against the dresser, arms crossed, looking effortlessly sexy in just his shorts.

I arched a brow, folding my arms to match him.

“And I’m invited because…?”

“I want you there.” His tone was firm, almost commanding, but that didn’t make it any less vague.

I rolled my eyes. “That’s not exactly a reason, Ronnie.”

He scowled, his jaw tightening. “Do you really love getting on my nerves? I’ve told you a million times to stop calling me that.”

I snickered, shrugging. “You get on mine all the time. Fair’s fair.”

He glared, those heated eyes boring into me, and I felt my cheeks flush. I cleared my throat to break the tension.

“For real, though, why me? Why drag your roommate to a family thing?” My voice came out softer than I intended, almost vulnerable.

“Fiona and Eric will be there.” His voice flatlined, face a blank slate, but I caught the glimpse of an old wound reopening.

Ah. His ex and his cousin. Fiona cheated on him with Eric, shattering Aaron in ways he never admitted.

I never got what he saw in her—beyond her mean-girl vibe, she wasn’t even that pretty.

Maybe it was her big, unhinged boobs. Or maybe he just liked the thrill of the chase. Or… right, her family’s money. But no, Aaron wasn’t that shallow. At least, I wanted to believe he wasn’t.

His family, the Tyrones were loaded, hockey royalty in the US, though Aaron bucked tradition by choosing basketball over the family sport.

That choice pissed off his stoic grandpa, creating this massive rift, but Aaron didn’t budge. He chased his dreams with that fierce determination I secretly admired.

“So, you up for it?” he asked, one perfect brow arched in challenge.

I swallowed, piecing it together. The fake girlfriend act.

“You want to use me as a rebound?” The words slipped out, laced with hurt I couldn’t hide.

He tilted his head, scanning me slow, like he was weighing my soul.

“Yeah. Just for the weekend.”

It felt like a knife twist in my chest, but I nodded anyway, forcing a smile. God, I wanted to grab his shirt, beg, Make it real—just once. But desperate girls get doors slammed, so I bit it back.

“Okay,” I whispered.

A smirk tugged his lips, and he reached out, ruffling my hair like I was his pesky little sister.

“Perfect. We’ll hit the stores tomorrow, I can’t have my ‘girl’ rolling up in those tragic hoodies and sweats. Time for an upgrade.”

He turned and vanished into the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind him.

Alone, the dam broke. Tears streamed down my face, hot and silent.

Why did loving him have to hurt so damn much?

Fake Girlfriend, Real Feelings.

Jessica's POV

“Take a break, we’ll reassemble in thirty,” Aaron’s smooth, commanding voice echoed across the court, cutting through the squeak of sneakers and the thud of basketballs.

The college players scattered like leaves in a gust, grabbing towels and water, their chatter filling the gym.

Aaron stayed rooted in the center, chugging from the bottle I’d slipped into his gym bag that morning. He is such a stubborn ass. 

Earlier this morning, he’d grumbled about not needing it when I offered, but there he was, guzzling it down like it was liquid gold.

Lucky for him, my love made me a fool who’d bend over backward, even if he didn’t deserve it half the time.

I watched from the library’s massive window, perched on a stool with a forgotten textbook in my lap. The view overlooked the court perfectly, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away from how he owned the space—barking orders, demonstrating shots with effortless sexiness.

Students hung on his every word, launching balls toward the hoop like disciples following a prophet.

Aaron coached part-time at Arcadia Hills College, a gig that always puzzled me until I pieced it together: he wanted to nurture the next generation, help them chase dreams like he was chasing his.

Soon, he’d ditch Florida for LA, signing with some top-tier team, and damn if I wasn’t rooting for him harder than anyone. I’d be glued to every game, cheering from afar.

Weird, right? Anyone sane would call me deranged because I was wishing the moon for the guy who’d tormented me since we were kids, chipping away at my confidence like it was his hobby.

But love doesn’t play by rules, especially not mine. Maybe I lost a screw when Mom died; her spirit taking a chunk of my sanity with her. 

Loving Aaron was my beautiful madness.

“How does it feel sharing an apartment with him?”

The question yanked me from my reverie, and I yelped, flailing like a cartoon character.

My stool wobbled, and my forehead bumped the glass with a comedic thump. I clutched the thick curtains for balance, only for them to billow uselessly as I nearly face-planted.

“Oops! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you!” I rubbed the budding ache on my head and spun to face Debbie, the campus’s favorite punching bag for laughs.

If I was awkward in high school (and okay, maybe still a tad now), Debbie was the queen of geeks: frizzy dirty blonde hair escaping a messy ponytail, braces flashing with every word, coke-bottle glasses magnifying her wide eyes, acne-scarred skin, and that lanky height that made her tower over everyone like a giraffe in sneakers.

But strip away the world’s cruel beauty checklist, she was stunning in her own way: kind eyes, a warm vibe that peeked through if you bothered to look.

Society’s beauty standards were just a rigged game anyway. Superficial and impossible.

I managed a small smile, trying to shake off the embarrassment. “Hey, Debbie.”

She shyly mirrored it, her fingers twisting together, weight shifting from foot to foot like she was debating running away.

“How’d you know I live with him?” I asked, keeping my tone light.

She let out a nervous giggle, relaxing a fraction, probably sensing I wasn’t the judging type.

“It’s not exactly a secret…” She trailed off, squinting as she fished for my name.

“Jessica,” I supplied softly.

Chapter 1: Haunting Memories

Blythe's P.O.V.

*******************************************************

~ Flashback, age 13 ~

*******************************************************

"Come on, you promised you'd sit with me while Tae finished our project," Ozias whined as he tried to drag me to the computer lab.

"I know, but Evander just asked me if I could meet him in the library really quickly," I said, trying not to laugh at the pout on Ozias' face. "I'll only be a minute."

"Oh, please, Evander is going to keep you the whole time," Ozias sulked.

"I won't let him," I replied, but he wasn't convinced.

"What if I just go with you?" he suggested, shrugging his shoulders.

"That would leave Tae all alone, and you know I hate that," I said.

"You only hate it because he hacks into your socials every time you give us more attention than him," Ozias teased.

"Yeah, and last time, he posted a ton of embarrassing pictures of me," I replied with a laugh. "The double chins... I was so hideous."

Ozias laughed as he reached up to cup the side of my face, brushing his thumb across my chin. My laughter died down as he stared at me. Electricity was crackling between us, and I held my breath, unsure of what to do. I don't want to pull away, but I'm also a little bit scared.

"Double chins... Hideous," Ozias scoffed softly. "Would it make you feel better to know that I jerked off to those pictures?"

My face flamed as embarrassment coiled in my belly.

"W-what?" I stuttered.

Ozias, as usual, wasn't phased in the slightest.

"It was real, it was raw, it was unfiltered you," he replied. "And nothing gets me going more than you, Sweets. At any angle."

He's joking, right? He has to be. We've been friends our whole lives pretty much. Ever since the first day of fourth grade.

Ozias had stood up for me when some boys were pushing me around on the playground. I had been at school for a few days and couldn't seem to make any friends. We moved in the middle of the school year and everyone pretty much had their friend groups already. I never seemed to fit in.

That day was the first day anyone was nice to me. Ozias and his friends had been on an extended weekend vacation, so it was the first day I had met any of them. Even as kids, they were all very protective of me. That day, Ozias had threatened the boys who were pushing me, and then took me inside to meet his friends.

The six of us have been practically inseparable ever since.

That being said, this charming attitude that Ozias has isn't new. Ever since we were old enough to know what s**x is, he's made comments similar to this. However, this is the boldest thing he's ever said to me.

I blame the fact that they were all raised in a motorcycle club. The Inferno's Demon Riders MC. The demons are great, don't get me wrong. I've spent so much time in the clubhouse that it's like a second home to me. I know that they party and party hard. I also know that they make sure I don't see everything that happens there either.

"Did I break you?" Ozais teased me when I just stood there with my mouth open like a mor.on.

"Break her? That's my job, isn't it?"

I g*****d at the sound of that voice. I didn't even get the chance to turn around, or plan an escape before Chayton slung his long arm around my shoulders. Ozias smiled at our friend before they fist bumped.

"You'd never break Bly and you know it," Ozais told him, shooting me a wink.

"You have no idea how much I want to," Chayton muttered.

I looked up at him with a frown. Chayton is just a big bully. He's rude as hll, but he has a big heart under it all. He's just a big ol' sassy pants. But he's so dang tall and buff, you'd never guess he was kind. You just have to dig for it.

"Anyway," Chayton continued without looking at me. "What are you guys doing?"

"Well, Peaches here thinks she's going to meet Evander all alone in the library," Ozias told him. "I told her that I should come with."

"Oh, definitely," Chayton said, spinning us around in the direction of the library. "Let's all go have a little bit of fun."

Ozias was on my other side within seconds. He was so close that his fingers brushed against my hand. I looked at him and he winked at me. My face flushed with heat and I quickly looked away.

Chapter 1 The Anniversary Nightmare

It was supposed to be our wedding anniversary. But instead, a group of thugs locked me up—with animals. For thirty days.

When the paramedics found me, my clothes were rags, my skin caked with filth. And my breast—a hollow landscape of pain.

My husband, Adrian Cross, fell to his knees, eyes rimmed red with fury, swearing he'd make every one of them pay.

Our son, Ethan, pulled every string he could to get me into the city's best hospital.

But in the swaying ambulance, drifting in and out of consciousness, I heard Ethan's hesitant voice.

"Dad… aren't we going too far? Even if it's for Aunt Lydia's research data, there are other ways."

Adrian's gaze swept over me, a storm of conflict in his eyes before his jaw tightened with resolve. "Your mother was always selfish. She used to pick on your aunt when they were kids. Letting her suffer a bit now is only fair. Besides, locking her up with those animals—it's part of a study on human–animal interaction. Your aunt needs real data for her psychology paper. Don't worry. I'll make it up to your mom. She'll live comfortably for the rest of her life."

But Adrian, you'd already destroyed my everything.

A tear traced a path through the grime on my cheek.

This family. This beautiful, poisonous lie. I didn't want it anymore.

When I came to, I dialed a number, "The confidentiality period is over. Reinstate my identity. Now."

......

Voices cut through the haze from the ICU hallway.

"Prof. Cross, your wife is critical." The doctor's tone was strained. "Her body is flooded with zoonotic pathogens. We've identified nearly a hundred distinct viral and bacterial strains attacking her organs and intestines. Without immediate, targeted treatment, we're looking at systemic organ decay and a high risk of active rabies infection. The only thing that can save her is the medicine you developed. But we need your authorization..."

"No."

Before the doctor could finish, my husband Adrian cut off. The word was ice. No hesitation.

"Any interference would corrupt Lydia's research data. Keep her alive—nothing more."

The anesthetic was pulling me under, and my mind grew fuzzy.

The doctor's sigh floated through the haze.

"Without the special drug, the virus will keep eating her alive. She won't last long…"

Then my son—his voice cracked with something almost human.

"Dad, maybe we should just use the medicine. What if she doesn't make it?"

"Enough! It was just a normal experiment with animals. Nothing will happen. Don't waste my time. Do as I said."

As darkness swallowed me whole, a single tear slipped free.

So that was my worth for him.

Chapter 1: My Best Friend Is Engaged

~BELLA~

Any minute now, I was about to confess my love to my best friend of fifteen years. Any moment now, he'd walk through the door and see that I had set up a romantic picnic inside my house for us.

I stare at the set up in front of me. I was actually quite proud of myself.

There were rose petals on the ground, fancy pillows, an entire meal that'd I'd cooked just for us. Heart-shaped balloons on the ceiling. Everything was set beautifully.

Caleb and I have been inseparable since we first met at my parents' anniversary. We became best friends quite quickly and refused to break apart. He would spend nights in my room, we would talk for hours about almost anything really.

I knew about all his failed dates, he knew about mine. I knew every time a girl broke his heart and he would come running to me for comfort. I would always offer it to him without a second thought, happy that I was the one person who knew how to make him smile during those tough times.

We made each other happy, and even though it has been a whole year since we last saw each other, I knew that absolutely nothing had changed between us.

The doorbell rings and my heart skips a beat as I trip over one of the pillows to open the door. The second I do, I'm expecting to see the big grin that Caleb always gives to me when he hasn't seen me for a while, then followed by his long comforting hug.

However, I receive the shock of my life when I see a woman with her arms wrapped around his neck. My heart squeezes tightly as I see the two of them kissing each other passionately, tongue and all that. Even making the kissing noises, neither of them noticing that I was at the door staring at them with no doubt a heart-broken expression.

"Oh," the unknown woman says as she wipes her lips. "How rude of us."

Yes. How rude.

They rang the doorbell and immediately started making out in front of the door? Of course they knew I would open the door and see this. They can't be that obsessed with each other.

Was this another one of those situations where Caleb fell for a girl, she broke his heart, and then they broke up? I hoped so. I was quite used to it by now.

Still, something felt different this time. I didn't want to admit it but I had this bad feeling in my stomach.

"Bella!" Caleb greets me as he rushes forward and scoops me into his arms. I immediately melt into his warm embrace.

The girl eyes us and I can see she's uncomfortable with the way he's hugging me.

How much did he tell her about our friendship?

"Hey Caleb." I say. "Aren't you forgetting to introduce me to someone?"

He chuckles, "Okay, drum roll! This is my fiancée, Gabriella."

Fi—an—cée?

Surely I'd heard that wrongly. Caleb couldn't have a fiancée, he always spoke to me before making any big decisions. This would count as a huge one. A very huge freaking one.

How could he just drop that on me?

Gabriella does a big swirl for me like she's the biggest prize ever. I could not hide the expression on my face as I open my mouth wide.

Perfect height. Perfect teeth. Perfect smile. Perfect hair. The list could go on and on. Caleb had definitely won the lottery with her.

"Say something." Caleb teases me.

"W-when?" I clear my throat. "When did all of this happen?"

I was finding it very difficult to speak.

He has been away for a year on a business trip but never did I think he would come back engaged to someone. We texted each other every day and he somehow forgot to mention something this big to me? Was I truly his best friend?

I didn't leave out a single detail about my life to him this entire year, yet he still left out so much. It hurt.

"A month ago." He smiles. "I will give you all of the details but before that, I wanted to invite you to a dinner tonight."

A dinner?

"I don't know—"

"You have to come Bella." He insists. "I told Gabby's family that you are practically part of my family and I need to introduce you to them. We are discussing wedding plans and I need you present to give your input."

I should say no. The right thing to do is to decline this offer and not have anything to do with this wedding at all.

But the words wouldn't come out of my mouth. I always did everything I could to make Caleb happy, I could not turn him down this time either. Not when it was clearly one of the happiest days of his life.

"O-okay." I say, trying to sound happy.

"Great!" he tells me with a grin. Without warning he pushes himself into my home like he normally does. Gabriella follows behind him but I'm in too much shock to go after them.

"Ah, Bella?" Caleb calls suddenly from the living room.

"Mmm?" I answer him, still in shock. Feeling heartbroken, like someone just ripped out my heart.

"Were you planning on having a date here today?"

My eyes widen.

Oh crap. I'd forgotten about my little romantic setup. This wasn't good.

I rush into the room and in my haste to hide everything, I trip over the damn pillows and fall flat on the food I'd laid out so nicely for us. I look up slowly and find them both looking at me in shock.

In fact, this was a memory I don't think I will ever forget.

How wonderful! A perfect way to celebrate Caleb's engagement to the beautiful Gabriella!

"Yes." I manage to say dryly with the food still on my face. "I am dating someone."

I couldn't believe I'd just said that.

Chapter 2—Meet The Billionaires

~BELLA~

"What is going on here?" I asked Caleb as our car pulled up to a breath-taking mansion. I had never set foot on a property like this before. Its size and elegance left me speechless.

This couldn't possibly be where Gabriella lived. . .could it?

I checked the other houses, and although they were all just as big, none matched the beauty of this one.

"Did I forget to mention my family are billionaires?" Gabriella asked with a playfully innocent smile.

Excuse me?

Billionaires? Not even a millionaire. . .billions?

"Yes," I replied through clenched teeth. "Both of you conveniently left out that rather important detail."

How many things had Caleb kept from me over the last few months?

It turned out Gabriella wasn't just breathtakingly beautiful, she was also filthy rich. How wonderfully overwhelming for me.

As we stepped out of the vehicle, a large number of servants greeted us at once, offering trays of exquisite appetizers and chilled drinks. It felt like we were being welcomed as royalty.

We followed a beautifully lit gravel pathway toward the grand entrance. Luxury cars lined the driveway like a high-end showroom.

Inside, the hall soared with high ceilings and marble floors that gleamed under crystal chandeliers.

A few feet away stood a man whose sharp blue gaze immediately caught my attention.

I barely suppressed a gasp. He was drop-dead gorgeous, rivaling even Caleb in looks—but carried a darker, more powerful aura.

"Zane," Gabriella said warmly as she approached him. "You're finally back."

He gave a curt nod. "I had to meet your fiancé properly this time. He can't marry my sister until I know everything there is to know about him."

Caleb shot me a desperate look that clearly said, 'Help me.'

Then Zane's eyes landed on me, and my knees nearly buckled.

His stare was intense, piercing.

"Bella," he greeted me.

My eyes widened. How did he know my name?

This was our first meeting. Wasn't it?

"You're the best friend, right?" he clarified.

The best friend.

Heat rushed to my cheeks as I managed a nod. Caleb had been right, this man was incredibly intimidating.

"Guilty," I said with a forced smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you. . .Zane?"

"Zane Remington," he replied smoothly.

Remington. As in the Remington wine empire, the largest and most prestigious in the world.

Their vineyards were huge, and their wines were legendary. I saw the name everywhere but had never bothered to look up the family. I certainly never expected them to look like this. Models, every single one.

Though maybe plastic surgery helped? Surely no one was born that perfect.

"Bella Rossi," I offered, unsure why I felt the need to give my full name.

"I know," he said flatly.

A shiver ran down my spine. He already knew who I was. Had he run a background check on me before I even arrived?

"Dinner has already started," Zane announced. "I hope everyone is starving, there's a feast waiting on the top floor."

The top floor? They dined under the stars?

When we reached the rooftop terrace, envy washed over me for an entirely new reason.

People actually lived like this? If this were my home, I'd never want to leave.

I spotted Caleb's parents immediately. They had always felt like my own family. I rushed over with a bright smile. Happy that they were here.

Kilala sa high society ng Pilipinas ang five year relationship nina Nevaeh Solene Dizon at Jeston Stefan Ferrer. Sigurado ang lahat na kasal na ang susunod na mangyayari. Pero sa araw mismo na pipirma na sana sila ng marriage certificate, hindi dumating si Jeston dahil sa adopted sister nito. Doon na napuno si Nevaeh. Nakipaghiwalay siya at piniling talikuran ang lalaking akala niya’y makakasama niya habang-buhay. Ngunit dahil sa isang mapang-asar na phone call, bigla siyang gumawa ng impulsive decision, ang magpakasal sa ibang lalaki. Kay Sven Antonius Ferrer. Si Sven ang kinatatakutang “Prince” ng Philippine Entertainment Industry at ang utak sa likod ng isang malaking financial empire sa ibang bansa. Powerful, Cold, and no one could easily approach him. Pero may isang mas malaking problema… si Sven ang nakatatandang kapatid ng ex-boyfriend ni Nevaeh kaya laking gulat ng lahat nang bigla silang maging mag-asawa. Mas lalo pang nagulat ang mga tao nang makita kung paano tratuhin ni Sven si Nevaeh. Sobra ang pag-aalaga ni Sven kay Nevaeh: pinoprotektahan, inaalagaan, at tinatrato na parang reyna. At nang muli si Nevaeh maliitin ng ex-boyfriend, hindi nagdalawang-isip si Sven na ipagtanggol siya, kahit kapatid pa nito ang kaaway. Doon lang nalaman ni Nevaeh ang totoo: sampung taon na palang may lihim na pagtingin si Sven sa kanya. Ang kasal nila ay hindi aksidente… bahagi ito ng planong matagal na niyang hinihintay. Ngayon na alam na niya ang lahat, tatakbo ba si Nevaeh… o pipiliin niyang mahalin ang lalaking sampung taon na naghintay para sa kanya?

1: Dear Diary

ASIA'S POV

Dear Diary,

Today is my eighteenth Moonday. Tonight my wolf will finally be able to sense our mate.

Oh Moon Goddess, please let it be Anton. He is the most amazing guy I have ever met. His brown eyes are to die for, and those lips are like the reddest cherry on top of an ice cream sundae. This is all I want most in this world, for Anton to be my mate and kiss me under the full moon. That would make me the happiest she-wolf alive.

I closed my diary with a dramatic sigh just as I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. I was panicking, so I quickly stuffed the little pink book into my old backpack and tiptoed to the door. I peeked through the crack, exhaling when I realized it was only Beatrice, the head maid.

"That was close," I muttered, grabbing the feather duster and pretending I had been working the whole time. I started cleaning Anton's room, resisting the very real, very insane urge to open his drawer and sniff his underwear.

I had done that a few times before. Okay... I did it many times before. And I must admit, I didn't think I had nothing to be ashamed of.

Once, I nearly got caught by my supervisor, but luckily, she was too busy trying to get everything perfect to notice me clutching a pair of size-medium Fruit of the Looms like it was money. The memory made me grin so hard I was practically blushing. I was so lost in a haze of cotton and cologne that I didn't hear the door open.

"Asia!" Beatrice snapped.

I jolted upright, dropping the duster. Beatrice was scowling like she always did when she was upset with me. And just so you know I had never seen that woman smile. Like ever.

"Yes, ma'am?" I squeaked.

"Stop your damn daydreaming and finish your chores!" she barked. "What the hell are you smiling about, anyway?"

"Nothing, ma'am," I said, plastering on the fakest serious face I could manage.

"Right. Because being a damn servant ain't nothing to smile about. We might be omegas, but we keep the wheels turning around here. Stay on track and don't lose focus."

"I won't, ma'am. I promise to finish my chores on time today."

"Don't make me regret giving you this promotion."

"Of course, ma'am. I won't disappoint you."

I sure hoped not. Last month, two other girls and I were promoted to clean for the Beta family, which meant one glorious, beautiful thing... I now had access to Anton Sharptooth's bedroom.

I'd been in love with him since the moment I laid eyes on him. I was eight years old when his father, Beta Kendrick found me wandering in the woods. They said I was probably from a nearby pack that had been attacked by the Rogue Faction—a bunch of wild wolves who didn't live by pack rules. The Beta brought me to Alpha Clayton and told him there were no survivors, just me.

Since I smelled like an omega, the Alpha told the Beta to make arrangements for me to live in the orphanage so I could be trained to be a servant.

That night, I slept in the Beta's house. Anton, who was fifteen then came into the kitchen where I sat, starving and scared. He gave me an apple and told me I should eat it because I looked hungry. That one tiny act of kindness was the sweetest thing anyone had ever done for me.

The next morning, I had a meeting with the Alpha. He questioned me about what I saw during the attack, but honestly? Everything before I came to the Grecian Wolf Pack was a total blur. I told him I remembered nothing, which wasn't a lie.

I was thrown in Miss Beatrice's protection after that, where I started at the bottom like everyone else, but now, at eighteen, I was almost at the top of the servant chain, cleaning for elite werewolf families.

And this was about as good as it got for girls like me.

I sighed, grateful for this opportunity to be cleaning Anton's bathroom. The boy was gorgeous, but not exactly tidy.

'It smells like death in here,' my wolf, Lyria, gagged.

'I know,' I giggled.

I grabbed a bucket of soap-water and bleach and got to work on the tub first, then the toilet. And let me just say—Anton needed to learn how to aim. It took me half an hour to get the piss stains out of that bowl. My eyes were watering, my arms ached, but I had to make this place spick and span. I was down on my hands and knees, drying the last of the tile floor when I heard a loud sound.

BAM.

The bedroom door flung open.

I froze, and my ears perked. I could hear female giggles followed by male grunts.

My heart dropped into my butt. I knew those grunts. They belonged to Anton.

"Heather, I should be at training right now," he whispered.

Of course, it had to be Heather. She was the Alpha's son Conan's girlfriend. Or... was. Conan was sent away for Alpha training a few days after I arrived. It was the way of the pack for the next in line to be sent away for training as soon as they turned eighteen, so that they could be prepared for taking over the pack someday. And Conan Godfrey was the next in line to take over the Grecian Wolf Pack.

Growing up, I always heard that Heather would be his Luna one day, but she wasn't waiting patiently for Conan's return.

She had been collecting his friends and other high-ranked wolves like Pokémon.

The bathroom door was slightly ajar, so I peeked through the crack and saw Anton lying on the edge of the bed with his feet hanging off the side. He was using his elbows to prop himself up. I bit my lip. He was looking sinfully good.

I felt heartbroken that he was with another girl, but I had always known that he would never go for someone like me. An orphan omega who looked like a string bean with red, frizzy hair and no boobs.

But a girl could still fantasize right? 

"I've been wanting to taste you since breakfast," Heather purred. I rolled my eyes so hard I almost saw my past lives.

I needed to get out of here and fast.

But then she started unbuckling his pants, licking her lips like she was about to devour a triple cheeseburger. She sank to her knees in front of him.

"You're such a dirty slut," Anton grunted.

"I know, but you love it," she giggled, pulling out his member.

Oh. My. Dear Moon Goddess. What a beautiful piece of equipment.

I gulped. My eyes went wide as Heather took him into her mouth like it was nothing. Nothing!

I started flexing my own jaw, wondering if I could even fit that down my throat if I were in her place.

My eyes traveled to Anton's face, and the way his sculpted jaws were flexing and how hard his red lips were trembling woke something sexual inside of me. There was this heat pooling between my legs and my tummy did a little flutter. That's when I noticed both of them pausing and sniffing the air.

Oh no. I bet they sensed my arousal.

Anton shoved Heather off like a sack of potatoes and stood up, zipping up his pants.

"I know you're in there. Come out and show yourself," he barked.

Oh. Shit.

2: Deal

"Who’s in there?" Anton barked again.

I stood up and straightened my skirt. My fingers were trembling. Scratch that.. my everything was trembling. My hand hovered over the doorknob, clammy as hell. I braced myself, then opened the door. My knees wobbled when my eyes landed on Anton.

His eyes narrowed. "Who the fuck are you?" he asked, raising one arm above his head. He had his claws out, ready to slice my throat open if I so much as breathed wrong.

What did he mean, who was I?

I was the girl who catered to him twice now after he came home drunk.

The girl he told last full moon that she had beautiful eyes.

And the girl he sat and poured his heart out to last night after we watched The Breakfast Club.

I opened my mouth to speak, but Heather beat me to the punch.

"She's one of the servant girls," the blonde bombshell said casually, flipping her perfect hair over her shoulder. "Look, she left her duster on the... uh... dresser," she said, pointing vaguely toward the bureau.

I bit my lip to keep myself from saying too much. The look on my face must have told Anton that I'd seen what they were doing a few seconds ago, and I could tell he smelled how my body reacted to what I had seen. The poor thing was doing everything in his power to avoid eye contact with me.

Heather walked up to me and handed me the feather duster with an exaggerated smile. I had to crane my neck just to look up at her. She was tall, statuesque even. And up close, she was even more stunning than ever. No wonder Anton went for her.

I glanced at her chest. Those had to be at least D cups. Meanwhile, I had ironing boards strapped to my ribs. Her hips were wide and curvy while I was shaped like a Swizzle juice box. I had no curves whatsoever.

"Are you done?" Anton asked, lowering his arm now. He damn well knew I wasn't a threat. I was still standing there like a complete idiot, staring at him. He was just so damn cute, plus after last night I thought he would at least introduce me to his other friends.

Why was he so hot? I found myself wondering. And the fact that I'd just seen his appendage was not helping my blush level.

"He's asking if you're done cleaning the shithouse," Heather snapped, her voice soaked in sarcasm.

"Ye-yes," I stuttered. "It's all done."

"Did you get the piss ring out of the bowl?" Heather asked, cocking a brow.

"Yes," I nodded. She was doing everything in her power to make sure I didn't forget my place.

"Good," she grinned.

Anton pulled his wallet from his pocket. He flipped it open, took out a paper note, and handed it to me. "Here you go. It's for all your hard work."

My cheeks burned as I accepted the Moonmark. A real, shiny, crispy Moonmark. Normally, we got paid in Howlcoins. I got five Howlcoins per week. So it would take me six months of pay to save 100 Howlcoins, which would be equivalent to one Moonmark.

"Thank you. You're too kind." I felt a little embarrassed for what I was being tipped for, but I'm a smart girl, smart enough to know not to turn down such money.

"Alright, servant girl," Heather interjected with a sugary-sweet smirk. "Grab your little cleaning crap and leave. Anton and I have some unfinished business to take care of. Alone."

"Don't be rude, Heather," Anton said, giving her a look.

"Whatever," she hissed, throwing her arms around his neck like she was a vine and he was a tree. She started kissing his neck and nibbling on his ear while his hands slid down to clutch her waist.

"Heather, easy," he chuckled. "At least wait until she leaves."

Her dark eyes found me, showcasing her wolf was at the surface.

"What are you still doing here?!" she barked at me. "Do you like watching people fuck? Is that it? Does this type of stuff get you off?"

"No! No! Of course not," I gulped. "I'm leaving now," I grumbled, spinning around to grab my cleaning supplies from the bathroom. I was just about to dip out when Anton stopped me.

"Wait!" he called out. I turned around, my heart thudding in my ears. "What's your name?" he asked. I hated playing this game, like we hadn't been getting to know each other for the past five weeks, but I went along with it.

Heather rolled her eyes while she grumbled profanities under her breath.

"It's Asia."

　　Bonnie

　　"If you don't get your goddam ass down here right now, I swear to the Moon Goddess herself I'm going to get my fucking belt out and make you sorry!" My dad's voice sends chills down my spine and has my entire body shaking knowing the pain that it's going to endure very soon. My dad means what he says and, thanks to my prick of a brother, my punishment will be even more painful than normal.

　　"If I have to come and get you, you know what will happen mutt!" He keeps bellowing while I shift myself further backward in my closest while praying for a miracle or, at the very least, for a giant hole to appear in these old floorboards and swallow me whole. Of course, reality wouldn't be as kind as to create a hole for me. No, my reality will result in pain and a lot of it.

　　"Where the fuck are you!" His voice suddenly seems so close and a growl that can only belong to that of a Beta suddenly has the walls around me shaking. Shit, he's here! "This is your last chance to come out mutt. If you don't, you know what will happen!"

　　He knows I'm here, but he wouldn't be my dad if he didn't take the time to taunt me that little bit more. It doesn't matter if I go out there now or let him find me either way, my punishment will have me suffering in pain for more than a few days.

　　"Your ass should have been downstairs over 30 minutes ago, and now it's going to pay. I don't know why you do this to yourself every goddam time! "I do sometimes wonder how my dad can help lead this pack as the Beta with how stupid he can be.

　　Does he seriously think that I hid in my closet and chose not to go downstairs and make breakfast knowing that he would come and find me and make me pay all by choice? No, I didn't, but it won't matter what my reason is for being here, he won't believe me, he won't care.

　　"Well, hello there little mutt." I feel the air leave my lungs as he tears open the door and lunges at me, grabbing my shirt and throwing me across the room. A grunt leaves my mouth as blinding pain shoots down my spine from hitting the wall, along with the impact winding me has, this day is off to a cracking start.

　　And yes, I know what you're thinking. Werewolves have amazingly quick healing abilities and while that may be true, unfortunately, that's not always the case, and of course, as with everything else in my life that goes wrong, so does having that ability. A healthy wolf can heal quickly but not an unhealthy one, and I'm the definition of an unhealthy wolf.

　　I cough as I try to catch my breath, but before I've even drawn in my first full breath, my dad is back on me and pulling me off the ground by the neck of my shirt. He roughly shakes me before screaming in my face, causing spittle to land on my forehead, nose, and chin, forcing me to hold in a gag. "Well, come on mutt. Won't you at least try and come up with some pathetic excuse to cover your ass?"

　　While most of the beatings that I get from my dad are caused by my brother, I try not to mention his name and instead, make up another excuse, any excuse because, in this household, my brother is the top, golden child and, as far as my father is concerned, he never does anything wrong and if I try and say different he sees red and just ups my punishment.

　　However, sometimes I just can't think of an excuse quickly enough and my Dad tolerates no answer, even less than me mentioning my brother's name, so that is what I have to do. I have to tell the truth and today seems like one of those days. "Rowan... Rowan locked me in my closet." As expected, his face turns an even darker shade of red as he once again roughly shakes me before throwing me across the room. Only this time I crash into the window and cry out as it shatters and several shards impale my skin.

　　"Look at what you made me do now. You stupid worthless piece of shit!" He storms over to me while I try to remove a large piece of glass out of the palm of my hand. He gets a tight grip on my hair and pulls backward until I'm forced to look up at his face, while at the same time, he moves my hand away, stopping me from pulling out the glass, and then he pushes down on it, making it impale even deeper into the palm of my hand and causing me to cry out.

　　"I'll never understand why you were born but the sooner you die, the better!" I remain quiet while trying to breathe through the pain as he continues to throw venomous words my way, but I don't think he realizes just how wasted those words are on me.

　　All I've ever heard from both him, Blue, and Rowan are vile words and their behavior has been even worse. I'm 18 years old, 18 years of hearing every bad thing imaginable, so yeah, his words do not affect me much anymore, the pain from the beatings is worse than any words he can say... so much worse, and I'm not sure if I'll ever get used to those.

　　"The next time you speak badly about your brother, I won't be the only one handling your punishment." He pulls back his hand right before landing a hard slap to my cheek, causing my vision to blur and my ears to ring. As I said before, he doesn't do well with me, badmouthing his precious son or anyone else, for that matter. Rowan is 20, the future Beta to our pack, and I swear that the boy could fall in shit, and he would still come out smelling like goddam roses.

　　My dad has threatened to have my brother punish me more than once but has never gone through with it. Of course, I don't kid myself into thinking it's because he's protecting me, he's never protected me a day in my life. No, I think it's because he knows that Rowan's temper is even worse than his, and I think he fears that Rowan will lose control and kill me, and if he does that, then who will my dad have to bully and take his anger out on? And of course, how would he explain my disappearance to everyone else?

　　I'm pulled from my thoughts by my dad once again pulling on my hair. It's a favorite thing of his to-do and, honestly, it has me wondering how I don't have bold patches. I wait for the next blow, but then his eyes glaze over as

　　someone's mind links him, and then he suddenly lets go of my hair and takes a step back. "Get your fucking ass downstairs. Now!" What the hell is that all about? There must be something big going on for my dad to stop beating me. Nothing ever stops him, not even mind links unless they are seriously important.

　　The moment he slams my bedroom door shut, tears burst from my eyes and all the pain that I've been ignoring surfaces causing me to shake. "Come on sweetheart. Get up off of the floor. Let's get you cleaned up." My wolf Lexis's voice soothes me somewhat as she encourages me.

　　I'll never understand how she's still here with me. I turned 18 six months ago and while I was able to shift fine for the first month since then, I've not been able to. My body is too weak from the beatings and being starved to be able to shift.

　　I've told Lexi more than once to leave me, to find herself another wolf to live with. It's the least she deserves, but she has always refused. She has been by my side since day one, and I'll always be grateful to her. She is my best friend, my only friend, and honestly, most days she's the only thing that keeps me going.

　　She refuses to leave me and I keep fighting for her but one day... One day this will all be over. I don't know how, but one way or another we will get out of this house and away from this pack, and more importantly, away from the evil that is my dad.

...

　　Bonnie

　　I move as quickly as I can to get off of the floor and drag myself to my bathroom to try and clean myself up as best as I can before I go downstairs. The pain in my back is now more of a dull ache, but the cuts from the glass are stinging like a bitch. Luckily for me, most of the cuts aren't very deep and, from what I can see, they don't have any glass in them, so they will heal just fine. However, the one in the palm of my hand is deep and will take much longer to heal.

　　I winch as I pull out the piece of glass quickly before wrapping a cloth around it to hopefully help slow down the bleeding. "I'm sorry I can't heal you, Bon Bon." Lexis's sad voice pulls at my heartstrings. "It's not your fault, Lex." As usual, she doesn't agree, but it's the truth. Yes, she's too weak to heal any of my bigger wounds, but she still heals my little ones and more importantly, she is here for me, which means more than she'll ever know.

　　The reason she can't help me with the bigger wounds is because of how unhealthy I am due to the abuse I receive daily from my dad and brother. Their abuse is also the cause of me being unable to shift and, for a while, I worried that I wouldn't even be able to talk to Lexi, but we do every day, and it's all that I need from her right now.

　　After more back and forth between us, I manage to convince her of the latter, and she retreats to the back of my mind, although I know it won't be the last time that we have this conversation and that's ok because my words or feelings will never change towards her. I just hope that she continues to stick by me until we can get away from here.

　　Once I've made quick work of cleaning myself up and wrapping up my hand, I quickly change my shirt and head downstairs to see what's going on. The usual sinking feeling starts up in my stomach as it does every time I walk down the stairs, but there's also some wonder in my head about what my dad wants after that mind-link and I decide to focus on that more than the sinking feeling.

　　As I reach the bottom of the stairs, I stop to take a moment to say hello to my Mom and kiss the picture of her that's hanging on the wall. There are several pictures of her around the house, but this is one of my favorite ones of her. She looks so young and carefree and, more than anything, happy. I never met her, but somehow, every time I look at this picture of her, I feel like I know her. I've also been told endless stories about my mom, which helps me picture her and imagine her life.

　　My mom and dad were lucky enough to meet just after they both turned 18 and were mated and married within two months and then, 8 months later, my brother Rowan was born. Just over 2 years later, my twin sister Blue and I were born. Unfortunately, Mom was ill while she was pregnant with us, and giving birth was too much for her body. After giving birth to Blue she died, meaning they had to cut me out of my Mom's stomach after she had died.

　　She was my Dad's world, her and Rowan's, and when she died he was left without his mate and a single dad of three children under 3 years old and devastated. I haven't met my mate yet, so I can't even begin to imagine what he went through. Even after everything he's put me through, I still feel sad that he lost his mate.

Chapter 1: Chapter 1 The Forgotten Wife

 

The moment Riana stepped off the plane onto the rain-slicked tarmac of Ambrose City’s airport, she let herself hope—just for a moment—that her husband might be there to greet her. 

But fate had never been particularly kind to her. Inside her bag, her phone buzzed relentlessly with birthday wishes—pack members, distant cousins, colleagues, friends—all except the one that mattered. 

Wesley Winters. 

Alpha of the Winters Pack. Her husband of seven years. 

A wry, familiar smile touched her lips. Seven years. Why did she still expect anything different from Wesley? Even sharing a daughter hadn't been enough to win his heart. 

Their marriage had begun in a haze of passion, a one-night stand sealed by an unexpected pregnancy, binding two strangers who felt no destined bond. But their families had been delighted; it was the most advantageous alliance for both packs. Their years together had been less a marriage and more a cohabitation of distant roommates. 

So what had compelled her to be such a hopeful fool? To cut her business trip short, haul her designer luggage through the storm, and take a redeye flight back here? 

"Mommy, you have to come back on time! Daddy promised we'd celebrate your birthday together this year!" Her daughter's innocent smile flashed in her mind. 

Willa. Her miracle. The one beautiful thing to come from that chaotic night. 

Though her marriage to Wesley had begun in disgrace, their daughter was a treasure they both cherished. 

Her thumb hovered over Wesley's contact - still saved as "Beastly" in her phone after all these years. For Willa, she could endure one more civil conversation. For Willa, she'd pretend they were still the picture-perfect family the Pack expected. 

The call connected. 

"Hello?" A sultry female voice answered. Not Wesley. 

Riana's blood turned to ice. 

“Delilah.” Riana didn’t need to ask. The voice alone was enough to make her claws extend, piercing through her manicured fingertips. 

Her half-sister. The daughter of the woman who’d shattered her family—her mother’s life. 

If her marriage to Wesley was a tragedy since the beginning, then Delilah's dramatic claim of being Wesley's fated mate at their wedding reception had been the final act. 

The Regalia elders had shipped the girl off to Switzerland that very night, but the damage was done - Wesley now had permanent proof that Riana was the villain in his love story. 

A rather beautiful villain, she thought with a smile. 

“Oh, Riana,” her half-sister crooned, saccharine-sweet. “How are—” 

“Put Wesley on.” Her voice was ice. She had no interest in how this bitch had returned; it was obvious her so-called husband was involved. Riana didn't need more bombshells to fray her nerves. 

She was only here to fulfill her daughter's wish, to provide the long-awaited family reunion. 

“Mm, he’s… occupied. In the shower.” A deliberate pause that was meant to mock Riana. “We just finished hot yoga. He’s all… slippery.” 

Hot yoga? Riana scoffed inwardly. Wesley had always been the most sought-after Alpha, before and after marriage; she knew that. Though theirs was a political match, he had, until now, tacitly respected certain boundaries. It was one reason she had endured this far. But with Delilah back, were all bets off? The bitterness within her deepened. 

As if determined to witness her complete humiliation, Delilah simpered, "Seven years watching my mate shackled to a woman he despises? You can't imagine what we'll be making up for tonight." 

The world swam before Riana's eyes. Hearing it confirmed was entirely different from suspicion. Fury, hot and vast, throbbed in her chest. "Put Wesley on the phone now!" 

"Don't be so upset, sister,” Delilah gigled. “Anger causes wrinkles~ No amount of spa visits will fix that then. Wesley might be even less inclined to come home." 

Riana seethed. Delilah was barely a year younger; what gave her the guts to mock her age? Riana's grip shattered her phone screen, glass biting into her palm. Blood welled - the perfect metaphor for this farce of a marriage. 

"You were never my sister," she hissed at the broken device, whispering to herself. "Just like your mother was never his Luna." 

Riana would never forget the last scene for her mother: her mother's vacant eyes staring at the ceiling, the ceremonial dagger still clutched in her lifeless hand. The Regalia elders had called it "noble sacrifice." 

Riana knew better. It was murder by a thousand cuts - every whispered insult, every public slight, every time Father brought his mistress to pack gatherings instead of his lawful wife. 

Riana brushed away a single, rebellious tear and lifted her chin. No. She would not cry over a pathetic man and a worthless reason. So Wesley had forgotten his promise. She hadn't been eager to celebrate with him anyway. She was here for Willa. 

Sliding into her red sports car, the quiet cabin seemed to amplify the agony tearing through her. Her mother's despair, the contempt in Wesley's eyes after their one-night stand, Delilah's triumphant smile shattering their wedding, seven years of icy isolation, and her daughter's hopeful gaze... The weight of it all threatened to crush her. 

Why? Why did her life have to be like this? She had believed seven years of loyalty and cooperation would show Wesley her sincerity, that he would want to build a warm family haven for Willa with her. But Delilah returns, and he betrays their arrangement without a second thought. 

Did her years of compliance make him think she was weak? 

If that's what he believed, he was in for a rude awakening. 

Riana dried her tears. By the time she stepped out of the car, her usual pride was restored, a mask of cool composure firmly in place. Her daughter was waiting for her somewhere in the manor. 

Now, nothing else mattered. All she wanted was to hold her daughter in her arms, to breathe in her familiar scent, to let that warmth soothe her aching heart. 

The grand foyer swallowed Riana whole as she stepped inside, the silence pressing against her like a physical weight. 

Flickering candlelight cast long shadows across the marble floors, amplifying the hollow ache in her chest. Disappointment. An old, familiar friend. She shoved it down—just like always. 

Until this moment, she hadn’t realized—not even her own daughter had messaged her. 

Was she planning a surprise? 

She pursed her lips into a smile. 

Her six-inch Louboutins—diamonds glinting like frost—lay discarded at the entrance. Barefoot, she padded through the cavernous halls, the cold marble biting into her skin. 

Then, a familiar presence. 

“Good evening, Madam Luna.” Mrs. Leah, the omega housekeeper who’d been taking care of her for years, stood with quiet sympathy. “Shall I bring you supper? Tea?” 

Riana forced a smile. "Where’s Willa?" 

A hesitation. "She’s asleep." Then, softer: "Happy birthday, Madam." 

Riana nodded with a thankful smile. Well, at least someone remembered her birthday. 

Upstairs, a sliver of light bled from beneath Willa’s door. Still awake? Riana’s pulse jumped. Maybe—just maybe—her daughter had waited up for her. 

She eased the door open. 

Willa hunched over her desk, golden curls spilling over her shoulders, fingers deftly threading beads onto a delicate string. The sight sent a fragile hope fluttering through Riana’s ribs. 

A gift. For me. What else could it be? 

"Willa, sweetheart." 

Her daughter startled, whirling with wide gray eyes—then scowled. "Mom! You can’t just barge in! Aunt Delilah always knocks!" 

Riana froze. 

Delilah. In her home. Around her child. Since when? 

Had Wesley grown so brazen?! 

She'd only been gone a month, and her daughter's world had been upended. The room smelled of crayons and bubblegum, fairy lights twinkling like stolen stars. This was her child, the one person who made her sacrifices mean something— 

Willa scrambled to gather scattered beads. Riana knelt, fingers brushing a stray pearl. "Let me help." 

"No! It has to be perfect." Willa clutched a shimmering bead, her face alight with devotion. "It’s for Aunt Delilah. Dad says she deserves the best birthday surprise." 

The words struck like a silver blade. Her breath vanished. 

Her own birthday. Forgotten. 

By her husband. By her daughter. 

By the two souls she’d bled for, endured a hollow marriage for. 

She stood there, invisible in her own home, watching her child lavish love on the woman who’d never soothed her nightmares, never braided her hair while humming ancient lullabies. 

Her claws pricked at her palms. 

"Willa." Her voice was too quiet, too raw. "Do you remember what today is?" 

Lyric POV

My alarm goes off at 5am sharp as usual. I groan before rolling over and turning it off.

“You’re so cranky in the mornings,” my wolf Nova snickers in my mind.

I climb out of my bed and make my way to the shower.

“I hope you’re ready for a week of chaos,” my best friend Winter links me. Winter is the youngest pup of our Alpha and Luna.

“What do you mean?” I link back.

“Seriously Lyric, besides the fact that the pack will be crawling with visiting packs soon for the ball on Saturday,” she links.

How could I forget? Our future alpha Mason Lane, who is Winter’s older brother, and my older brother Hunter, who is the future beta, both turn 18 this week. Hunter’s birthday is on Thursday and Mason’s birthday is today, and even though the mating ball is Saturday, he can scent his mate today even if she isn’t 18.

“Don’t remind me, but what does that have to do with me?” I link as I climb in the shower.

“Well Summer already walks around the pack like she is our future Luna and now today we will find out,” she links back.

Summer is my twin sister and I say twin loosely because we are on two opposite ends of the genetics spectrum. I’m 5’0 tall with caramel skin, curvy and thick no matter how much I train, with copper red hair and green eyes. Summer has olive skin like my mother with pale blue eyes and she is also 5’7 and slim.

Total opposites, I know.

That makes me an easy target for the pack’s so-called future Luna.

In public she’s sweet and perfect, but behind closed doors where there are no eyes on her, she finds any way to make my life hell.

No matter how many times I tried to fight back, it always ended up worse for me. When I was ten, I told my mom Summer shoved me down a flight of stairs. Two days later, one of the omega girls who helped me get to the hospital was beaten so badly she missed school for a week. Summer never admitted to anything, but she didn’t have to. She cornered me afterward and thanked me for proving her point. I never told on her again.

“Please tell me you’re almost ready. Training starts in 15 minutes,” Winter links me.

“Getting dressed now,” I link her back as I put on my leggings and sneakers.

I just throw on a sports bra and cropped tank. My hair does what it wants so I put it in the best version of a bun.

“You’re trying too hard,” Nova says in amusement.

I ignore her and walk out of my room.

“Meet me in the dining room,” I link Winter.

I head downstairs to the dining hall from the beta floor.

As I walk into the kitchen, I spot Mason sitting at a table with Hunter, Lucas and Micah, the future gamma and delta.

His eyes are locked on me the moment I step into the dining hall.

My stomach flips.

I hate that my body still reacts to him. It always has. Ever since we were kids and he followed me around calling me sunflower like it was my actual name.

I walk away before I think too much about what it means.

“Good morning, Mary,” I say to the head omega.

“Good morning, sweetheart. How are you today?” she asks, checking me over.

“I’m fine. Need help with anything?” I ask.

“No sweet girl, I will see you after training,” she says.

I walk out and find Winter waiting by the door.

“Finally, we are already late,” she says as soon as she sees me.

“I’m sorry, let’s go,” I say.

When we get to the training grounds, I get a link from Delta Sam.

“Lyric, the Alpha and I would like to use you for a demonstration today,” he says.

“Why me?” I link back.

“Because you are the only one who knows how to do the move properly,” he links back.

“Fine,” I say.

“What was that about?” Winter asks.

“I’m being used for a demonstration,” I say, annoyed.

“It’s going to be okay,” Nova says.

“I would rather stay in the back where I belong until I can get out of here,” I say to her.

“You are not meant to be in the back, Lyric,” she says softly.

“Tell that to Summer,” I murmur.

Being noticed has never worked out well for me. Every compliment, every birthday gift, every moment someone chooses me over her always seems to come with a price later.

“Good morning everyone,” Delta Sam says, getting everyone’s attention.

“Today we will be practicing offensive moves that can be useful while fighting a wolf in human or wolf form,” he adds.

“We will have a demonstration before we pair off to practice.”

“Our gamma will be demonstrating with Lyric,” he says.

All eyes turn to me—including Mason’s and Summer’s.

Great.

I walk over to where Delta Sam and Gamma Jake stand.

“Okay, Lyric will be on offense, and Gamma Jake will be on defense. He’ll attack you in his human form first, then his wolf form.”

My heart pounds in my chest.

I know I can handle this, but all this attention?

Not my favorite thing.

He yells, “Begin!”

I drop into a fighting stance, waiting for Jake to make the first move.

He swings out, aiming for my ribs.

I sidestep and land my own punch right there, solid against his side.

He staggers back and tries a leg sweep.

I hop back just in time, avoiding the trip.

Then he lunges, grabbing me around the waist.

I twist with his momentum, wrapping my legs around his hips and my arms around his neck.

In a quick spin, I’m on his back like a backpack from hell.

Before he can shake me off, I drive my elbow into the back of his head.

Delta Sam calls, “Time!”

I leap down from Jake’s back, breathing hard, a huge grin splitting my face.

When I look up, Mason’s eyes are locked on me, intense with some emotion I can’t quite read—but it sends chills racing down my spine.

Then I make the mistake of looking past him. Summer is staring too. Her face is smiling for the crowd, but her eyes aren’t. My stomach immediately sinks. Whatever pride I felt from the demonstration disappears. Because if history has taught me anything, it’s that Summer hates being outshined.

Chapter 1 It Shows You're Unmarried

Sharon Rincon's knuckles whitened as she gripped her phone tightly.

She'd finally gotten the call—one she'd waited five long years for. It was Daniel Canter, her grandfather's right-hand man.

"Ms. Rincon, your marriage to Mr. Colbert has officially passed the five-year trial your grandpa set.

"He says you can bring your husband home now. He's ready to get all his assets notarized to you early. What time works for you?"

"Really?" Excitement bubbled up in Sharon's voice, making it shake. "Mr. Canter, that's incredible! Today—right now, I'll be there!"

She hung up and let out a shaky, relieved sigh.

Thank God!

Her grandfather had finally forgiven her. Five years ago, she'd chosen her own marriage over the family's arranged match, giving up her heiress status to marry Gary Colbert—and now, it was all worth it.

She'd been right about him.

Gary was worth every sacrifice she'd made back then.

Today wasn't just the end of the trial—it was their fifth anniversary, too.

She was gonna hit him with a huge surprise—and a future that was finally real, no more secrets.

The notary office lobby smelled like old paper and ink—stuffy, official.

Her heart thudding, Sharon pulled out the marriage certificate she'd guarded like a treasure for five years and handed it carefully to the clerk.

She pictured Gary's face—shocked, happy, maybe even a little teary—and a soft smile pulled at her lips.

But as the clerk typed and checked the system over and over, his brows drew tighter. His face turned grim.

He looked up, his eyes sharp as he stared at Sharon. His voice was flat, no room for argument.

"Ms. Rincon, I'm sorry but this marriage certificate is fake. The system says you're unmarried."

"Unmarried?" The smile froze on Sharon's face. Her eyes went wide with shock. "That can't be true!"

The clerk didn't even acknowledge her panic. He just kept talking, cold as ice.

"As for Gary Colbert—he's married. His legal wife is Chloe Lopez."

"What?!"

It was like someone had bashed her over the head with a hammer. Her mind went totally blank.

She jumped out of her chair, her voice shrill.

"You're lying! That's impossible! My husband gave me this certificate himself. How could it be fake?!"

"System records don't lie." The clerk's face was emotionless. "They've got a five-year-old daughter, too. She takes her mom's last name—Mia Lopez."

"What?" Sharon stumbled, barely keeping her balance.

A daughter? Five years old?

So Mia, my precious goddaughter, is actually Gary and Chloe's kid?!

"Gary and Chloe got married five years ago—same exact time as this fake certificate you've got."

Sharon's vision went dark. She started to slump backward.

Luckily, Daniel was right behind her. He reacted fast, catching her before she hit the floor.

"Ms. Rincon!" Daniel's voice was tight with shock and anger. "How dare Gary lie to you like this! Let me call Mr. Rincon right now—he'll..."

"No!" Sharon cut him off sharply. She pressed a hand to her forehead, her nails digging into her palm. "Mr. Canter, don't tell Grandpa... give me some time. I need to find out the truth myself. Please—keep this quiet for me."

Something clicked in her head. Her voice came out dry, scratchy.

"That kid... can you check her birthday again? Please."

The clerk's typing sounded loud, harsh, in the quiet room.

"June 29th, 2022, 4:39 PM."

Those cold numbers were like a needle, stabbing straight into the old scar in Sharon's memory.

That was the day she'd fallen. The day she'd miscarried. The day she'd been rushed to the hospital.

The baby she'd fought so hard to have—gone for good by 8:13 PM that night.

Tears flooded Sharon's eyes, spilling down her cheeks.

That baby had been her everything—she'd drunk endless medicine, gotten countless fertility shots just to get pregnant.

She'd only been pregnant two months—too early for the baby to be stable—when she'd suddenly tripped at home and lost it.

Getting pregnant had never been easy for her. That miscarriage had almost broken her.

She'd lain in that hospital bed, hurting so badly she couldn't breathe. But Gary? He'd just patted her back softly, his voice calm as he said, "Sharon, don't be upset. It's for the best the baby's gone. We're just starting our careers—now's not the time for kids anyway."

It turned out that it wasn't "not the time." It was that he already had a kid—on the very same day.

The treasure she'd lost? It was just an unwanted extra in his plan.

The clerk handed the fake certificate back to her. Sharon's hand slipped, and it clattered to the shiny floor with a loud "slap."

It was like a slap in the face. Mocking her five years of love, her total devotion—all a stupid joke.

She walked out of the office, and the bitter wind hit her face. It cleared her head a little, but nothing could chase away the cold in her chest.

Daniel followed close behind, his face worried.

"Ms. Rincon, Gary's a heartless je*k. Are you sure you don't want Mr. Rincon to step in? He'll get you justice."

Sharon shook her head slowly. But her eyes—once filled with shock and grief—were now cold, hard with determination.

She took a deep breath, her voice steady.

"No. Mr. Canter, tell Grandpa I'll be home in a month—with answers. And I'll take over the family business. Tell him not to worry."

With that, she turned, flagged down a taxi, and told the driver Gary's company address.

Chapter 2 White Roses and Red Roses

The taxi pulled up outside Colbert Group, and Sharon hopped out right away.

She barely had one foot on the sidewalk when she spotted a delivery guy rushing in, arms crammed with a huge bouquet of red roses.

That wrapping, that card—she'd know them anywhere. It was from that fancy flower shop Gary always ordered from.

Sharon's heart squeezed tight. She curled her fingers into fists before she even thought about it.

She hurried to keep up, slipping into the elevator with him. She caught a glimpse of the message on the card, "Happy birthday, Chloe. From your love." It felt like a needle jabbed straight through her chest.

Today wasn't just her and Gary's fifth anniversary—it was Chloe's birthday too.

His so-called "working overtime" was just a lie to hide from her—so he could throw a birthday party for his real wife at the office.

Sharon squeezed her fists so hard her knuckles turned pale.

She stepped off the elevator, and a familiar guy's voice hit her ears out of nowhere.

It was Gary, and his best buddy slash business partner, Mike Freeman.

"Mike." Gary's voice was deep and smooth, as gentle as ever. "Today's Sharon and my fifth anniversary. Can you take that bracelet I made her back home? Grab 999 white roses too and attach a card that says, 'Hold your hand, grow old with you.'"

Sharon tightened her grip on the bouquet in her arms until her fingers ached. Her feet felt glued to the floor.

Mike scoffed, sounding curious. "Dude, you're obsessed with Sharon. Everyone calls you the ultimate wife guy. But for real—if you love her this much, why'd you marry Chloe in the first place?"

The hallway went quiet, save for Gary's low laugh and the faint flicker of a cigarette butt in the dark.

"Sharon gets all my love out in the open.

"Chloe, though? She's fine hanging back in the shadows with me—obedient, hardworking. And she gave me that cute little girl. Marrying her's my way of making it up to her..."

Sharon stood in the shadows, all the color draining from her face. Nothing but cold, icy numbness was left.

"But it's been five years now," Mike cut in, his voice soft with sympathy. "Sharon wants a kid so bad, and you... you intentionally poured oil on the floor to make her slip and lose the baby. She still has no clue..."

He switched tones. "And now Chloe's pregnant with your second kid. Gary, aren't you scared Sharon will lose it if she finds out the truth?"

Sharon froze stiff—her blood might as well have turned to ice in her veins.

So that random fall back then wasn't an accident. He did it on purpose!

"Chloe'll keep this secret forever. Sharon'll never find out," Gary said, pausing for a beat before speaking with total confidence.

"I love Sharon," he added, sounding sincere. "When I had nothing, she stuck with me through four years of college. She scraped together five million for my startup and stood by me when I was at my lowest. But Chloe's put up with so much for me too. I can't let her down. I want both of 'em!"

He still remembered who'd been there for him when he was down and out.

But all those hard years they'd shared couldn't stop him from loving someone else.

How ridiculous.

Their voices faded as they walked away.

Sharon's eyes burned with tears. Through the office's glass windows, she could see the room decked out with flowers and a balloon wall—total party mode.

All the employees huddled around Chloe, who was grinning from ear to ear. And Gary stood right next to her, as close as could be.

They leaned into each other, eyes soft and loving.

"Happy birthday, Mrs. Colbert!"

"Wish you and Mr. Colbert forever happiness—and a baby soon!"

Cheers and well-wishes flooded over, pricking Sharon's heart like a million tiny needles.

So she's Mrs. Colbert!

She'll have a baby soon!

So during the three years she'd stayed home full-time, Chloe had already taken her place—openly calling herself "Mrs. Colbert", soaking up everyone's blessings.

No wonder Gary had forbidden her from stepping foot in the company after that.

She'd never thought twice about it before—figured he felt bad about how hard she'd worked in the early days and wanted her to relax at home.

But now she knew. He'd long built a love nest for someone else, hiding from her while living his little double life.

White roses and red roses, my *ss!

The bouquet in her hand slipped, hitting the floor with a loud thud. Bright petals scattered everywhere—just like their so-called relationship.

I darted through the woods, moving between the trees while I tried to push down my fear. I knew that I wasn’t alone out here. Despite having no training, I knew that for sure. I had braided and covered my hair so I could try to stay hidden.

I had to cover it; my hair was so blonde that it was almost white. I’ve tried to color it, as everyone always makes snide comments about it, but it never works. It always went back to the same pale color. The other women in the pack hate it, always have. It didn't matter what they did to it, even cutting it off, the next morning, it was back again. I've given up on trying to change it anymore. I knew that there was nothing that I could do about it.

I knew I wasn't alone because it was way too quiet out here. There were no sounds coming from the woods that were normally teeming with life. That told me a patrol was near, and that they were in their wolf forms; all the animals had been scared away. That didn’t make sense, as it wasn’t time for any of the patrols to be in the area.

There was no other explanation for it. Which didn’t help to allay my fears. I had been coming out here for the last month, hiding high in the trees and noting when they came through. I started doing that the day I decided to leave the Shadow Fall pack. I knew I had to get the patrol schedules down like clockwork, as there was no room for error. If they caught me trying to escape, they would kill me. The feeling of dread crept up as I tried to think of a way out of this.

Alpha Dominic was never going to allow me to leave the pack. He blamed me for the death of his best friend, and former Beta. It didn’t matter that the Beta had died trying to save me from rogues as a toddler. Because as far as the pack was concerned, the blame for his death lay squarely on my shoulders. I was cursed. The whole pack felt that way. According to them, I was the bane of their existence.

I’ve heard that story hundreds of times and know it by heart. Once Beta Thomas died, the pack had nothing but a string of bad luck. Apparently, that was all because of me. I didn’t belong here and had brought misery and misfortune with me. I don’t know how they can accuse me of things that were well out of my control as a toddler. But they’ve done it since I arrived here almost seventeen years ago.

I was too scared to continue on to the place where we were supposed to meet. I didn’t have a wolf. I couldn’t shift, so there was no way that I would be able to outrun them. I knew exactly what was going to happen to me if I were caught out here.

I could accept my punishment if I were found. What I couldn’t accept was putting my only friend and her older brother in jeopardy. I knew just how vicious this pack could be. I wasn’t willing to risk their lives for any reason. I would rather stay here for the rest of my life than have something happen to either of them.

I set my shoulders. I would go ahead and hide up in a tree. Once they left, I would head back to the small Omega house I lived in. They all thought I was stupid because I was never allowed to go to school. But I was smart enough to know that this was a trap. I just wanted to know how the hell they figured out I was leaving. I wasn’t important enough to be given a phone. I had to use one of the landline phones in the pack house while I was at work to call Victoria.

I made sure to use the phone while all the ranked wolves were on the training grounds. School was in session, and the other Omegas were working, so it was the perfect time to call. I used the one near the kitchen. There was only one person who had been anywhere near me, and it couldn’t be her. I refused to believe it. She has been the only one who has made sure I was fed and clothed the entire time I’ve been here.

Bertha Flowers was the lead Omega in the kitchen. She had watched out for me the best she could. I couldn’t say she stuck her neck out for me; she knew exactly how the pack felt about me. But, other than from my best friend, Tori, Bertha had been the only one of a very few here to ever show me kindness.