u/RhiyoreLace

In my last life, my husband fell for a college girl.

I went crazy with jealousy. I tried everything to break them apart.

But I lost.

He destroyed my family... just to divorce me and marry her.

I couldn't accept it.

So I jumped off a building.

And he?

He looked at my body— with disgust.

"Couldn't you die somewhere else? You're ruining my view."

...

When I opened my eyes again, I was back— One month before he fell for her.

So this time, I went to where she worked. Watched her life like a stalker.

I needed to know—

What kind of girl... stole the man I loved for ten years.

In my last life, I never even met her.

All I had was a name... and a few photos.

I lost everything.

And my rival?

She never even showed her face.

--

The streets in Ardovelle were busy—cars and crowds everywhere.

I'd been sitting in a corner of a café called Déjà Vu for two hours already, facing the counter.

A young woman in a sky-blue apron was busy making drinks.

She was around 1.6 meters, probably less than forty-five kilos. Fair skin, always had a smile on her face. Her thick, dark hair was tied up in a high ponytail, and when she smiled, her eyes turned into crescent shapes that lit up the whole room.

“Ma’am, would you like a refill?”

She walked over with a bright smile.

How awkward. I’d been so lost staring at her that I completely zoned out. Good thing I was a woman, or someone might’ve thought I was some kind of creep.

“Sure. Still black,” I smiled politely, my voice giving nothing away.

Soon, she set another bitter black coffee on the table in front of me. But instead of leaving right away, she hesitated for a second before getting a little nosy.

“Ma’am, you’ve already had two cups of black coffee. I know it helps keep you awake, but drinking too much isn’t good for you. Maybe... you could save the next one for another time?”

She was kind and outgoing, her voice crisp and brisk, like wind chimes—pleasant to the ear.

I glanced at the black coffee, then stood up, purse in hand.

“Okay. Check, please.”

She beamed like she was glad I’d taken her advice.

I paid without a word and left the café quickly.

“Mrs. Crowe.”

The driver, Parker Ellis, respectfully nodded at me and opened the car door.

“Home.”

The car pulled off smoothly. I leaned back in my seat and closed my eyes, but my mind kept drifting back to the young woman at the café.

That was Lydia Fairburn.

The woman Preston Crowe was so set on divorcing me for one year from now, even though it meant burning every bridge with his family.

I hadn’t expected the first thing I did after being reborn was to go to her workplace and watch her like some kind of creep.

It was just... I was curious.

I wanted to know what kind of woman took away the man I’d loved for ten years.

In my past life, I never even met her. Preston kept her so protected, like she was the most precious thing in the world. All I had was a name and a few photos.

I lost everything, and my opponent never had to show her face.

Young, beautiful, innocent, kind, cheerful...

All those nice words fit her perfectly.

Her only flaw was her humble background, which created a huge gap between her status and Preston’s.

Just then, Parker broke the silence.

“Mrs. Crowe, today is your and Mr. Crowe’s anniversary.”

I opened my eyes, feeling dazed for a second.

Come to think of it, it had been five years since I married Preston.

Every anniversary, I’d get busy all day, preparing a candlelit dinner and a gift for him.

I was twenty-seven this year, and he was twenty-nine.

“I know.” I rubbed the bridge of my nose, feeling my head throb a little. “You don’t have to remind me.”

Parker probably said that because he’d sensed something off about me this year.

But why was I always the one putting in the effort?

Why did I have to love Preston?

I’d thought about this before dying in my past life.

For Preston, I ended up dying a tragic death, my family destroyed.

While I was lost in thought, Parker pulled up outside the villa Preston and I shared.

To my surprise, I saw Preston’s car.

He was home.

My feelings were complicated.

Now I’d come back from the dead, what kind of expression was I supposed to put on when I saw the person who caused my downfall?

I thought I’d hate Preston.

After all, for another woman, he’d cornered me—his wife of five years.

He’d even driven my parents to their deaths, even though they’d treated him like their own son.

He practically wiped out my whole family.

But now that I was actually seeing him, the hatred wasn’t as strong as I’d expected.

What was left was mostly just acceptance.

In my past life, Preston gave me a chance.

He said we could end the marriage peacefully, and to make it up to me, he’d give me some shares of the Crowe Group—enough to set me up for life.

But I refused.

I was so bitter.

After ten years, I still couldn’t make him love me even a little, yet another woman spent only one year making him fall head over heels.

How was I supposed to accept it?

So I tried everything to win him back.

But step by step, it escalated—from a rift, to a standoff, to a point where only one of us could walk away alive.

This time, none of that had happened yet.

Instead of wasting my energy hating him, I’d rather change the fate that left me a tragedy.

“Why are you standing there?”

Preston sat on the sofa in the living room, his long legs casually crossed. The cigarette between his fingers had burned down. He stubbed it out in the ashtray with practiced ease, then glanced up at me with the same indifference he always had.

The day we married, he told me bluntly that we were at most roommates, that our marriage was basically a partnership, that he felt nothing toward me.

“Nothing. Just surprised to see you home.”

I bent down to change into slippers.

They were Hermès, elephant gray, simple design, understated color.

Comfortable—probably the only thing they had going for them.

Then Lydia in the blue apron popped back into my mind.

Right—there was a little red flower smiley face pinned to her apron.

None of the other staff had that.

Then I thought about my clothes—all expensive and dull.

Simple as always.

Boring as always.

Suddenly, I found those slippers repulsive.

I kicked them off and walked into the living room barefoot.

Preston noticed. He frowned slightly, a hint of surprise flickering across his eyes.

“You’re not wearing your slippers?”

“No. Don’t feel like it.”

I answered flatly, sitting down across from him.

“That’s rare. Who got under your skin?”

He actually chuckled, and his tone was light—both were probably a first.

I wanted to say, “Your future soulmate,” but I held back.

Instead, I looked down at my pale feet.

Because I was so thin, they looked a little bony.

Lydia was different.

She was thin, too, but her skin was firm and healthy.

Me?

I was practically skin and bones.

Five years of a lonely marriage had done a number on me.

I had no appetite, so I kept losing weight, and now I looked like a skeleton.

“Preston,” I said.

“Yeah?”

He was on his phone, not bothering to look up.

My gaze lifted from my feet to him, my voice a little hoarse.

“I want a divorce.”

He scoffed.

Tossing his phone onto the sofa, he looked at me, his gaze familiar—cold and indifferent.

“What are you playing at this time, Bianca?”

“I mean it.”

I sat up straight and met Preston’s intense gaze without flinching.

“It’s been five years. You’re not going to fall for me anyway. Let’s just cut each other some slack.”

In a month, there’d be a big business conference in Ardovelle.

Preston would meet Lydia there.

It would be love at first sight for him, and he’d stop at nothing to get her.

What an epic love story.

No way I was sticking around to be the disposable side character.

In my past life, I did everything I wanted to do, could do, and should do.

And I saw how it ended.

This time, I wasn’t going to make a fool of myself or drag my family into the abyss again.

I decided to step away before Preston met Lydia.

I decided to remove myself from the picture before their rocky journey even began.

Chapter 1

While working as a club hostess at The Box in Manhattan, I met a guest who seemed strangely familiar.

His name was Vincent Moretti, the Don of the Moretti Family and a man no one in New York's underworld dared to cross.

He tipped far more generously than the other guests, yet he never asked me to pour his drinks or keep him entertained.

Chapter 1

Four years with my boyfriend. I accidentally found a group chat on his phone called "Happy Hours Without Emily".

I am Emily. What exactly happened?

There were eight people in it.

My boyfriend. His sister. His two best friends. My roommate. My best friend.

And my little brother.

I froze. Messages kept coming.

His sister: [She's not coming Saturday, right? Last time she came, nobody could relax.]

My best friend: [Don't worry. I already told her I have to work. She won't suspect a thing.]

My brother reacted with a laughing emoji.

My Boyfriend: [Perfect. Same place. I'll book it.]

My hands shook as I scrolled up.

The group had been active for two years and three months.

Over 700 messages.

That's when it hit me.

The people I loved could only be happy when they left me out.

...

The sound of my suitcase zipper echoed. I'd left the bedroom door open.

Liam called from the living room. "Got watermelon in the fridge. Want some?"

I didn't answer.

"Emily?"

"No."

Silence. Then he showed up in the doorway, leaning against the frame.

"What are you packing? Work trip tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Last minute."

He nodded and went back to the couch.

Chapter 1

Vanya

“I don’t want to marry, Father. I have Alpha blood—I deserve to be the next Alpha of the Blood Moon Pack! If only you—”

Slap.

The sharp sting lit up my cheek, but it wasn’t the pain that brought tears to my eyes. It was the hand that had delivered it.

My father. The Great Alpha Marcolos DiVinci of the Blood Moon Pack.

“You can’t force me, Father!” I shouted, voice trembling with fury. His eyes flared with rage.

In two strides, he closed the distance between us. His hand tangled in my hair and yanked me up until I was kneeling before him, tears streaming down my face faster than I could blink them away.

He usually ignored me—treated me like nothing more than an unfortunate duty. But today, when I finally spoke up about my future, about what I wanted, after he told me I was to be married off to a man twenty-five years older for a political alliance… I couldn’t stay silent.

“I let you live, Vanya. Be grateful for that,” he hissed. “The only value you have is in sealing an alliance for this pack. That’s your role. That’s what you were born for. So shut your mouth, be a good girl, and do what you're told.”

With that, he released me. I collapsed onto the cold stone floor, my knees hitting hard. But I didn’t feel the impact—I was too full of rage. Burning, bitter rage.

I looked up at him, and for the first time in my life, I didn’t care that he was my father. I looked at him the way I would an enemy. The kind of hatred in his eyes mirrored mine. He had always blamed me for my mother’s death. Said I stole his mate the moment I was born. Said the Goddess had cursed me, cursed him, by not giving him a proper heir. In his mind, a daughter could never be an Alpha. A woman could never lead the pack.

“I’ve arranged your marriage to Alpha Danish. The ceremony is next week,” he said coldly, then turned to leave.

“No—Father, please! Please!” I cried, scrambling after him. But the door slammed shut in my face. A second later, I heard the key turn in the lock.

Through the thick wood, his voice carried out one final order.

“She gets food once a day. Nothing else. Do not open that door.”

I slammed my fists against the door. I could break it if I wanted to, but what good would that do? My father would just hit me again. Maybe even lock me in the cells this time.

So I stopped and walked back to my bed. My hands were shaking, and my chest hurt. I sat down and cried harder than I ever had before.

I knew he would never understand me—but I didn’t think he’d go this far. To him, I’m nothing. Just a puppet he can use when it suits him. Right now, marrying me off to Alpha Danish is the best deal he can make for himself and the pack.

It hurts.

I have everything it takes to be an Alpha. I trained for it. I worked hard for it. I was born with Alpha blood. But none of that matters to him. Just because I’m his daughter and not a son, he thinks I can’t lead.

Who decided that? Who made that rule?

I deserve to be Alpha. But he doesn’t care. His plan is to marry me off, merge the packs, and keep the power in his hands. Then, one day, the children I have with Alpha Danish will take over.

The thought makes me sick.

He’s using me like I’m just some deal to trade. Like I’m not even a person.

But I won’t let him.

I’m not some helpless girl. I won’t let him control my life. I don’t deserve this just because I’m a woman—or because he thinks I’m not strong enough.

I’ll show him.

But first, I have to find a way out.

The hotel room smells like bleach and stale coffee. 

I’ve been staring at the ceiling for twenty minutes. Maybe longer. The crack above the bed runs left to right, thin as a hair, splitting the plaster like a fault line nobody bothered to fix. Kind of like my marriage. 

I roll over and grab my phone. 8:47 PM in California means 11:47 PM back in Tennessee. Too late to call a five-year-old. 

But tomorrow is Jack’s birthday. 

My baby is turning six, and I want to be the first one to wish him on this day. 

I open the camera app and check my face. My eyes are puffy. Not crying puffy – just tired puffy. The kind that comes from four days of twelve-hour shifts, back-to-back client dinners, and sleeping in a hotel bed that smells like bleach and stale coffee. 

I pinch my cheeks. Smooth my hair. Smile. 

It’s too tight at the corners. 

I try again. 

Better. That one almost reaches my eyes. 

I tap Jack’s contact and hit video call. It rings once. Twice. Three times. My chest gets tighter with each ring. Then the screen fills up with his face and the tightness breaks open into 

something warm. 

“Mommy!” 

God, that word. That one word undoes everything. The shitty hotel. The twelve-hour days. The way Sean looked through me in the hallway last week like I was a glass door he could see right past. 

“Hi, baby.” I press my phone closer like I can crawl through the screen. “Happy almost-birthday! One more sleep.” 

Jack grins. He’s missing a front tooth. When did he lose that tooth? I don’t remember him telling me. Maybe he told Sean. 

G 

D 

“California. And yes, baby, I am.” I keep my voice light. Easy. “But I was thinking – do you want Mommy to fly home tomorrow? I can be there for your birthday. I’ll bring cake.” 

Jack scrunches his nose. The same way Sean does when he’s thinking. I hate how much they look alike sometimes. 

“That’s far,” Jack says. “Daddy says California is really far.” 

“It is. But I don’t mind-” 

“It’s okay, Mommy. Daddy is here. He’s enough.” 

He’s enough. 

I want to laugh, except there’s nothing in me that finds it funny. Six years I’ve spent learning how to fold myself smaller and smaller so I’d fit into the space they left for me. And it turns out the space was never even there. 

I swallow, and try not to let those words get to me. “Okay, sweetheart. That’s okay too.” 

In the background, somewhere off the edge of the screen, I hear a sound that makes everything in me go still. A laugh. A woman’s laugh, light and easy, and then Jack’s whole face lights up in a way it never once lit up for me. He turns toward it. 

“Aunt-” he starts, and then he stops himself, and looks back at the camera fast, guilty, like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. 

“Aunt who?” I ask. I keep my voice level. I keep it gentle. “Jack? Is someone there with you?” 

“Nobody,” he says. Too quickly. “Just Dad.” 

And then the phone is taken from him. The screen swings, blurs, and resettles on a face I’d know in the dark, in my sleep, in another life. Sean. 

My husband. 

“Jack, go brush your teeth.” 

“But Mommy-” 

“Now.” 

Jack’s face disappears. I hear his little feet padding away on the hardwood, and then it’s just Sean holding the phone. 

“Hey,” I say. 

Clam 

“Is there anything else?” 

Not how’s California. Not we miss you, not even the trip going okay? 

Just-is there anything else. 

There’s that laugh again, behind him, closer now. And I watch his eyes flick to the side, just for a moment, and something in his face changes. Softens. I’ve never seen it soften like that. 

Not in six years. Not for me. 

I open my mouth. I have a sentence ready. I’ve had it ready for so long it feels worn smooth, like a stone I’ve been turning over in my pocket. 

I miss you. 

Three words. I’ve said them before, a hundred times, a thousand times, to this face on this 

screen and to the back of his head as he walks out the front door and to the empty side of the bed at 2 AM when he’s still in his office and I’m staring at the wall like an idiot. I miss you. I miss you. I miss- 

“Nothing else, then,” Sean says. 

Then the screen goes black. 

I sit there like an idiot. The dead phone glowing faintly in my hands, my own reflection trapped in the dark glass. 

I don’t recognize the woman looking back. 

Her mouth is still half-open around the words she didn’t get to say. I miss you. That’s all it 

was. That’s all I ever wanted to say, and he hung up before the second word could leave my 

mouth. 

And the worst part, the part that makes my eyes burn, is that he didn’t do it to hurt me. 

I just wasn’t there. 

I set the phone down on the nightstand, very carefully, like it might shatter, like / might shatter, and think about that night. 

That one night, and that one terrible beautiful mistake in a hotel that smelled a lot like this one, and then the two pink lines, and then Sean standing in his mother’s living room with a jaw like granite saying he’d do the responsible thing. 

He looked at me that day like I’d set a trap and he’d been dumb enough to step in it. You planned this, his eyes said. You trapped me for my money. He never once asked what I 

wanted. He decided he knew. 

And I spent the last six years trying to prove him wrong. Six years ironing his shirts so the collars sat exactly the way he liked. Six years brewing his coffee at the precise temperature, learning his silences like a second language, putting humidifiers in every room because he hated the dry air, even when the damp made my skin crack and bleed at the knuckles. I told myself if I was good enough, soft enough, quiet enough, he’d look up one day and see me. 

He never looked up. 

My phone buzzes. For one stupid second my heart kicks, thinking maybe it’s Sean calling back. Maybe he felt bad. Maybe he wants to say goodnight. Maybe- 

It’s an sss from Alexander. Meeting moved to 9 AM. Please confirm. 

I confirm. 

The tears come finally, hot and silent. I let them. There’s nobody here to perform for. No coffee to brew. No collar to fix. For the first time in six years, I am completely, perfectly alone, and let myself go. 

*25 PORTE 

Violet 

I slowly park my Forty-Eight Harley Davidson on the side of the nearly empty street. A broken streetlight flickers above my head, while the rest are completely off. The street is quiet, except for the snoring of a homeless man sleeping in the alley a few feet away. At least, I 

think it’s a man. 

I get off my bike and pull a cigarette from my new pack. After a glance across the street, I cross the road, lighting the cigarette with the Zippo lighter I keep in the pocket of my leather biker jacket. The parking lot on the other side is empty, indicating the 24/7 diner is just as deserted. 

When I reach the doors, I turn around and kneel down, leaning my back against the wall. I’ve been more stressed than usual lately-and that says a lot. 

I finally let myself relax now that I’m feeding my nicotine addiction and close my eyes. But not long after, I hear a car approaching and open them again. 

A truck pulls into the parking lot and parks like an asshole, taking up two spaces. I narrow my eyes against the harsh headlights shining directly at me and take another drag from my cigarette before dropping it to the ground, snuffing it out with the toe of my combat boot. 

“Miss Larkson?” 

A man approaches me, and I give him a quick once-over. I know who he is-I hired him a couple of weeks ago. We’ve only spoken over the phone, so I’ve never seen him in person until now. I think his name is Vince, but I’m terrible with names. 

He’s short, bald, and slightly overweight. He’s wearing a raincoat over a thick sweater, and I cringe. It’s fucking hot-even if it’s 4 AM and the temperature’s cooled down a bit. 

“That’s me.” 

“Good. Do you want to, uh, go inside?” Vince-if that’s even his name-asks while glancing over my shoulder at the diner door. 

I stare at him for a beat too long, just to make him squirm, then lift my chin and walk into the diner. Immediately, the stench hits me, and I wrinkle my nose. The place reeks, like there’s a dead animal rotting in one of the corners. Lovely. 

The interior is old, filthy, and cheap. I take a seat in the far corner, facing the door, and lean back. Vince sits across from me, still looking uncomfortable. I nod at the disinterested waitress trudging toward our table. 

+25 Pants 

“How can I help you?” she asks, pulling out a tattered notebook. She doesn’t even look at us -her eyes are fixed on something outside the window. 

She looks suicidal, honestly. But I would be too if I had to work in a place that smelled like decomposing rats. Her hair is greasy, her makeup looks two days old, and her non-existent eyebrows are drawn on in crooked lines like she used a ruler while drunk. Her uniform needs. to be washed-badly. God only knows what it’s stained with. 

“Coffee and blueberry pancakes,” Vince says. 

I glance at him and grimace. He ignores me and smiles at the waitress. She nods, scribbles. down the order, and walks away. 

“I didn’t come all the way here for a dinner date,” I say sharply. “Tell me what you found so I can get going.” I tap my heel irritably against the floor and meet his eyes. I don’t have time for this-I need to keep moving. 

Vince nods and pulls a large envelope from his jacket. 

“Right, uh, I found something you might be interested in,” he begins. 

I let out a heavy sigh. 

“After opening your adoption file, I found out it was a closed adoption. But I managed to connect the time of your birth and your age to your birth mother. You were given away when you were about a year old. Since you came from a small town, it wasn’t hard to figure out who your mother was.” 

I glance up at him, then at the waitress who practically throws the plate of pancakes and coffee onto the table. This bitch is seriously getting on my nerves. If she keeps this up, I might smash her face into the damn table. 

I force myself to ignore the violent urge and look back at Vince. 

“Right. Uh, your mother died five years ago of a drug overdose. But you have an older brother 

and a father. Your mother’s name wa-‘ 

“I don’t give a fuck about her.” 

Vince swallows hard, a bead of sweat rolling down his face. 

“Right. Your father is fifty years old. His name is Damon Montague. Your brother is thirty- Steven Montague. They’re both in an MC called the Highway Demons. Your brother is currently the president. Your father was president before him and the original founder of the club. All the information I found is in this file.” 

+25 Points 

He pushes the envelope toward me and waits for a reaction. 

I stare out the window, taking in the quiet street and drawing a deep breath. Of course my family isn’t normal. A fucking biker club? Seriously? 

I look back at Vince, the private investigator. After a moment, I reach inside my jacket and pull out another envelope-this one with $400 in cash. I set it on the table, and Vince immediately grabs it and starts counting, ignoring the nasty-looking pancakes in front of 

him. 

I stand up, take the envelope with the files, and walk out. 

Chapter 1 

I’d been crushing on Caspian Ferretti for ten years. 

Never had the guts to tell him 

Until they diagnosed me with terminal brain cancer. 

So I tied him up. 

And slept with him. Over and over. 

His eyes were bloodshot as he struggled. “Zoya Carter! Untie me if you’ve got any guts.” 

I thought he’d strangle me once I let him go. 

Instead, he took every inch of me, relentless, day and night. “Zoya. Do I look weak to you? You drugged me?” 

I’d been crushing on Caspian for ten years. 

He wasn’t some regular guy next door. He was the sole heir to the Ferretti family. Later became the most 

feared mafia Don in the city. 

I watched him grow from a teenager into something cold. Dangerous. The kind of presence that made 

everyone back away. 

And I was obsessed. 

I never said a word. 

If he rejected me, we’d be finished. Worse, I might not survive it. 

Until ten days ago, when I collapsed at work and woke up in a hospital. 

The doctor looked at me with pity. “Terminal brain cancer. Too late. No treatment value.” 

I couldn’t just die like that. 

I hadn’t traveled the world. I hadn’t slept with Caspian Ferretti. 

I was dying anyway. What was one crazy thing on the bucket list? 

I called Caspian. Asked him to dinner at my place. 

Except it wasn’t my empty house. It was a secret apartment in his name. He used it for deals the family didn’t 

Chapter 1 

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I’d set up the security system. Still remembered the code. 

He was busy. The Ferretti family ran dozens of operations through his hands daily. But he agreed to swing by 

later 

Caspian showed up worn out. Wearing a black cashmere coat, the Ferretti family silver pin at his collar 

Cold air clung to him. 

And blood. 

I found out later I’d called while he was handling a traitor. 

Flew all day. Walked straight into my trap. 

I almost felt bad. 

I tried to make an excuse to send him away. But he walked straight to the dining table and sat down. Gray 

eyes swept the dishes. Landed on my face. 

“You cooked?” 

I said nothing. 

He picked up the spoon. Tasted the mushroom soup. 

Raised a brow. “Haven’t seen you in a while. Skills improved.” 

Thanks. But the kitchen also held the wine I’d spiked with sleeping pills. 

I watched him sit there. Take a sip of red wine. He set the glass down. Pressed his temples. “Zoya. What did 

you put in the wine?” 

I bit my lip. “You tired? Need to rest?” 

He stared at me for a few seconds. That look sent ice down my spine. 

The look the Don gave traitors. 

But finally, he just nodded. “A little dizzy.” 

“Then go rest.” 

We’d known each other for years. No walls between us. More importantly, he’d never seen me as a threat. 

Chapter 1 

Tina Marlowe, my best friend, loosened the screws on my prosthetic leg on the day we took our class 

portrait. 

I tumbled down the steps in front of the whole school, the camera catching every second of my fall 

She burst out laughing, and soon the whole crowd joined in. 

My boyfriend, Hayden Hudson, crossed his arms and patted her shoulder. 

“Easy there. Don’t hurt yourself laughing.” 

Then he looked down at me, still on the ground. 

“See? A little embarrassment builds character, right? You’re not even crying about it anymore.” 

That word-embarrassment-burned into me like a brand. 

Ever since I lost my left leg, Tina had insisted that the only way to get over my insecurity was to let people 

laugh at me. 

At fifteen, she got me to do frog jumps in gym class and made me pull down my pants to prove I wasn’t 

faking. 

At seventeen, she hid my prosthetic so I had to hop onto the stage on one foot for a speech, while the whole 

class laughed. 

Just last month, she set the neighbor’s German Shepherd on me, then filmed me clinging to a tree branch, 

begging for help, and posted it online with the caption: “If a cripple can climb a tree, then pigs can fly!” 

She dragged me through the mud over and over, but always said it was for my own good. 

Hayden always stood right beside her, nodding and laughing along. 

Watching them both down there, laughing like that, I suddenly felt exhausted. 

A best friend and a boyfriend who treated me like a punchline? I didn’t need either of them. 

*** 

The fastening bolt on my prosthetic had rusted. I twisted it until my index finger was raw, but the tears kept 

coming. 

Hayden stood beside her with his arms crossed, frowning at me like my misery was just an inconvenience. 

Chapter 1 

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“Dry your eyes, will you? People might think Tina’s been picking on you.” 

“Tina’s only trying to help. She’s been putting me through those exposure exercises so you won’t burst into tears every time someone mentions your leg.” 

I glared at him through redrimmed eyes, feeling like I didn’t know him at all. 

“Humiliating me in front of everyone is supposed to be good for me? You know I hate people staring at my 

leg, and you still let them turn me into a spectacle?” 

My voice cracked as I spoke. 

Tina shrank back, her face turning sheepish. “Oops. Guess we took it too far. She’s really mad now… but I 

was just trying to help her.” 

Hayden shot me an irritated look, then turned to comfort her. 

“Relax. You know how she gets. She’s always crying and making a fuss. Just let her cool off.” 

He strode over, grabbed my arm, and pulled me toward the steps in front of the academic building, cutting 

off my protest. 

“Can we save the drama for later? Everyone’s watching right now. It’s embarrassing.” 

His eyes were cold, like I was the one being unreasonable. 

“Let’s just take the portrait. You were the one dying to get a picture with me, remember? Don’t ruin it with that 

face.” 

The photographer was already set up, and everyone had taken their spots. 

I swallowed my hurt and stood next to Hayden. 

Then Tina came charging over. 

Hayden shifted to make room for her on his left, pushing me all the way to the edge of the frame. 

The flash went off. The photographer handed out the prints. 

Chapter 1 

[Countdown to Erik’s birthday: 7 days] 

Alison Reese’s phone screen lit up with a push notification. She was holding a big gift box and pacing around the apartment, trying to find a good hiding place. 

The box held a custom birthday gift she’d ordered two months in advance. She wanted to give her husband, Erik Hale, a surprise. 

She got down on the floor, leaned over, and peered under the bed in the master bedroom. In the corner lay a white capsule. 

Alison reached under the bed and pulled it out, setting it in her palm. It was smaller than a regular cold medicine capsule, smooth-shelled, and unmarked. 

She kept turning it over in her palm. She’d never seen anything like it. 

Taking out her phone, she snapped a photo of the capsule and opened an Al image recognition app. When the result popped up, 

she froze. 

“Vaginal spermicidal suppository. Contains spermicide. Can be used in place of condoms.” 

Alison stared blankly at the words on the screen. Her mind went completely empty. 

She had never bought anything like that. In their two years of marriage, she and Erik hadn’t ever slept together. He was either buried in work or away on business trips. Even when he came home, he always acted exhausted and never laid a hand on her. 

Alison clenched the spermicide in her fist and spaced out for a long time, unable to even process her thoughts. Then, her phone’s ringtone suddenly erupted loudly, yanking her back to reality. 

Her aunt, Jane Swanson, was sobbing on the other end. “Ally, come to the hospital right now! Your Uncle Malcolm collapsed. The doctor said they have to rush him into the ER!” 

Outside the operating room at Anwell Hospital, a hospital owned by Hale Corporation, a nurse’s voice rang out from the end of the corridor, sharp and urgent. 

“Family of Malcolm Reese! Is Malcolm Reese’s family here?” 

Alison ran over. “Here! I’m here.” 

“The patient has pancreatic cancer. His condition is critical, and he needs immediate surgery.” The nurse handed her a form. ” This is the surgical consent form. A family member needs to sign.” 

Alison’s ears rang. As a medical student, she knew very well that pancreatic cancer was the king of cancers. There were no early symptoms, and by the time most patients were diagnosed, it was already late-stage. 

When she was 12 years old, her parents had died in an accident. Back then, it had also come down to a single sheet of paper. She’d been so young and devastated back then that she could barely write her own name. 

It was Malcolm who had signed the form for her. After signing, he’d picked her up and said, “Don’t be scared, Ally. I’ve got you.” 

Now, Alison tried several times to sign her name, but her hands were shaking so badly she couldn’t get the pen under control. 

She pulled out her phone and scrolled to Erik’s number. The call rang for a long time before he finally picked up. 

+15 Bonus 

“What is it?” he asked flatly, like she had no business bothering him. 

In the background, she could hear loud chatter, music, and… fireworks? 

She heard the heavy, muffled booming sounds, one burst after another. 

“Uncle Malcom is in the ER. They said it’s pancreatic cancer. Can you come? I’m here by myself” 

“I’m out of town on business.” He uttered those words, his tone crisp and final. “Ask your cousin to go.” 

“Noah isn’t in Hollibrook. He-” 

“Then handle it yourself.” Erik’s tone turned impatient. “I can’t get away right now.” 

The call cut off, the silence unusually loud in Alison’s ear. She stood in the hallway, gripping her phone. In the nearby waiting area, someone had turned on the TV. The news was on. 

“…Ravenport’s Centennial Fireworks Gala is lighting up the night sky over Harris Harbor…” 

Alison looked up. On the screen, fireworks burst over a glittering harbor. The camera swept across an observation deck packed with people. 

Suddenly, the camera zoomed in. A man and a woman stood at the railing, shoulder to shoulder, heads tilted up to watch the fireworks. The man wore a dark gray overcoat, his profile sharp and handsome. It was Erik, her husband, and the woman beside him was Monique Shore, his first love. 

So, the “business” he’d mentioned was actually a getaway with Monique to watch fireworks by the harbor. 

Alison stared at the screen, motionless. 

Erik had his arm around another woman. They stood together under the fireworks, in front of the whole world. 

“Miss, we need your signature!” The nurse came back out. 

Alison lowered her eyes to the consent form. Her hand was still trembling. 

She grabbed her right wrist with her left hand, forcing her fingers to steady, and dragged out the final stroke of her name. The letters were crooked but still legible. 

Three days later, Alison sat in the office of Malcolm’s attending physician, Stanley Lowell. 

“Mr. Reese’s condition is complicated. The standard treatment protocols we have here won’t work very well for him,” Stanley 

said. 

After a pause, he continued, “Alvonia approved a new drug last year, and the clinical data looks very promising. I heard even their president is on it. You’ll need serious connections to get it, though.” 

Halfway through his explanation, Alison’s hands balled into fists. 

Stanley’s tone became a touch more respectful. “Mrs. Hale, given your situation, I assume Mr. Hale can pull some strings to get the drug.” 

Her cousin, Noah Reese, who was sitting beside her, frowned slightly. 

Alison nodded. Her voice was barely above a whisper as she said, “Yes. I’ll talk to him.” 

“Great, great. With Mr. Hale stepping in, I’m sure everything will work out.” 

Alison and Noah stepped out into the hallway. The office door swung shut behind them, but not all the way. 

+15 Bonus 

From the gap, they heard Stanley’s assistant’s hushed voice. “Dr. Lowell, what did you just call her?” 

“You don’t know who she is?” Stanley lowered his voice. “That’s Mrs. Hale, the eldest daughter-in-law of the Hale family. She’s Mr. Erik Hale’s wile 

“Oh? She looks so young. But why is her uncle in a regular ward?” 

“Hush!” Stanley silenced him. Don’t stick your rase into rich people’s business.” 

Noah stopped walking and caught Alison by the arm. “Ally don’t want you begging him for anything.” 

She smiled. “Noah, begging is an exaggeration. He’s my husband.” 

He studied her face. 

“Go keep Uncle Malcolm company first,” she said. “I’ll make a call.” 

Alison walked toward the open atrium on the second floor, planning to call Erik. She had just taken out her phone when she froze 

From where she stood, she could see straight down to the entrance of the inpatient building. A black Bentley had just pulled up. 

Several hospital executives in suits were waiting at the door. One of them rushed forward to open the car door. 

A man and a woman stepped out. The man was strikingly handsome, with the refined, polished look of a movie star. The woman’s beauty was vivid and luminous, but there was a faint, sickly pallor to her that made her look all the more delicate. 

Erik carefully helped the frail-looking Monique out of the car and led her quickly through the lobby to the elevator. The elevator stopped at the VIP ward floor. 

Alison took another elevator and pressed the button for the same floor. The numbers ticked up, one by one. 

The VIP ward floor was quiet. Thick carpeting swallowed the sound of footsteps. 

One room stood with its door slightly ajar. Voices drifted out. Through the crack, Alison saw Erik moving around the bed, fussing over every little detail, all his usual cold detachment gone. 

Monique leaned against the headboard and chided softly, “Erik, it’s just a bit of a cold and a fever. You don’t have to make such a big deal out of it.” 

“When was your last full checkup?” Erik asked. “Since you’re here, you should get a complete workup. I’ll stay with you. 

She lowered her eyes, the corners of her lips lifting in a shy smile. 

He picked up a cup of milk tea with a straw already inserted and handed it to her. “I had them warm it up. It’s not hot.” 

Alison suddenly remembered the one time she had finally talked Erik into going shopping with her. She’d mentioned wanting milk tea, and he’d given her a look of pure contempt. He had scoffed and asked, “How old are you? You still drink that kid stuff?” 

Inside the room, Erik walked over to a narrow cot in the corner and pressed down on it with his palm to test it. He asked, “Is this the sleeper chair? I’ll sleep here tonight.” 

“You shouldn’t stay the night…” Monique murmured. “She won’t like it.” 

“I told her I’m out of town on business tonight.” 

Alison’s phone suddenly buzzed in her hand. She glanced down and realized that at some point, her finger had accidentally hit the call button. 

Erik’s phone started ringing. He pulled it out, glanced at the screen, then declined the call. 

“Was that her?” Monique asked softly. “You should go home.” 

3/4 

“What could she possibly need me for?” He slid his phone back into his pocket. “She’s just a kid craving attention.” 

“A kid?” Motique repeated 

+15 Bonus 

“My grandmother forced her one. She doesn’t know anything. I have nothing to talk about with her,” he said dismissively. 

Feeling numb, Alison turned and walked away 

Chapter 1 

Dora Hendrix’s POV 

After reading through both paternity test reports, I looked up at the couple before me. “So. I was switched at birth with the Acosta family’s child? Linda Acosta is your real daughter?” 

For seventeen years, the Hendrix family had poured time, money, and effort into raising me to be the perfect image of grace and poise. 

Audra Hendrix, merely gave a quiet “Yes” in response, her face blank and unreadable. 

Next to her sat a girl with a messy ponytail and worn-out clothes, quietly sobbing. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying. “I’m sorry. this is all my fault.” 

She lifted her tear-streaked face to look at me, eyes full of false innocence. There was a flicker of jealousy-well hidden, quickly smothered. 

“Dora, please don’t be mad. If you don’t want me here, I’ll go back,” she said softly, casting herself in the role of the pitiful underdog-vulnerable, humble, and oh-so-lovable. 

Too bad no one in the Hendrix family had any interest in her little performance. 

“There’s no need to apologize,” I said flatly. “I’ll leave on my own.” I didn’t bother putting on a show for the Hendrix couple. I didn’t care-and neither did they. 

“Your real parents are poor,” Linda added, head lowered, fingers 

nervously twisting her skirt. “I just don’t want you to suffer with them.” 

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It was a well-crafted line-on the surface, kind and selfless. But underneath, the message was clear: I had lived a luxurious life for seventeen years under false pretenses. 

Now that the truth was out, any attempt to stay would seem greedy and inappropriate. Not only did Linda take a subtle jab at me, she made herself look generous and considerate in the process. 

To an outsider, Linda’s words might evoke sympathy. One might imagine how much hardship she must’ve endured with the Acosta family to grow into such a sweet, self-sacrificing girl. Some would be moved to shower her with affection, desperate to make up for the seventeen years she lost. 

Unfortunately, her acting wasn’t convincing. The three people in the room didn’t buy it for a second. 

A heavy, awkward silence settled over the room. 

I gave a faint smile and studied Linda for a moment. 

Where my beauty was sharp and striking, Linda’s features were plain and forgettable. 

Her personality, at least, matched the files I had seen. I just hoped Linda would dial back the melodrama when it came time to meet the Hendrix family’s two sons. 

I sat down in a single armchair. Betty Campos, the housekeeper, rushed over and placed a steaming cup of coffee on the table. I set the folder beside it and took a sip, my calm demeanor making me seem like nothing more than an onlooker. 

“What’s your plan?” Jerrold Hendrix finally asked, voice low and steady. 

“Since your real daughter is back, I’ll go find my real parents,” I said calmly. The coffee had steeped too long-its bitterness lingered on my 

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tongue. 

288 Youcler 

Jerrold had always believed they’d raised me well-I was capable, composed, and elegant. But in the end, blood was blood. No amount of polish could match the value of a biological daughter. 

So when I said I was leaving, he didn’t try to stop me. 

“You’ve got two weeks to leave. I’ll give you 1 million dollars. After that, you’re on your own,” he said. 

It wasn’t concern for my future. The money was a buyout-a clean break. From that moment on, me and the Hendrix family would have no further ties. 

The Hendrix family had spent decades clawing their way through the business world. They knew better than to make enemies unnecessarily- alliances were always more valuable. Ruthlessness had its place, but they never went for the kill unless absolutely necessary. 

There was no signed agreement, but the 1 million dollars served as a leash of sorts-a silent guarantee to safeguard the family’s reputation. 

“1 million dollars? That’s way too much!” Linda shrieked, all traces of her earlier sweetness and humility gone. Her expression twisted with fury, as if she wanted to tear me apart on the spot. 

“You think that’s a lot?” Jerrold shot her a cold glance. Despite being her biological father, there wasn’t a shred of warmth in his eyes. 

That single look carried a crushing authority, like a predator sizing up its prey. Linda instantly, shrank back, her bravado evaporating. “No, I just didn’t expect you to be so… generous with her, Dad.” 

I took a sip of my freshly brewed coffee, the corners of my lips twitching in amusement. “Thank you, Mr. Hendrix. I’ll remember your kindness 

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over the past seventeen years.” 

288 Moucher 

The subtext was clear: I would take the money and walk away quietly, with no intention of slandering the Hendrix family or causing a scene. It was my way of drawing a clean line-settling the past without burning the bridge. 

Chapter 1 

Four years into being transported to a parallel world, my fiancé sent me to the operating table for the 

ninety-ninth experimental surgery. 

Luckily, I was born with a regenerative ability. 

The system said that after just one more time, I could finally return to my original world. 

There, my fiancé loved me like his own life. 

Unlike this world, where he treated me like a tool, supplying me to the female med student he sponsored for 

her self-taught anatomy practice. 

So even though I frequently spiked fevers from post-op infections and passed out, I never once refused to lie down on that operating table. 

The hundredth dose of anesthetic was pushed into my veins. 

I closed my eyes, but before I lost consciousness, I heard my fiancé and the doctor talking outside the door. 

“Mr. Sterling, we’ve been deceiving Ms. Morrison for four years now, making up that parallel world and the strategy system. When this is all over, can we really keep it from her?” 

“Yes. I hired the best hypnosis team.” 

“These four years have been my fault, but her physiology is the perfect fit for CeCe to practice on. Even though the first ninety-nine trials failed, this time CeCe is sure to succeed.” 

“After the surgery, I’ll make it up to her with the most extravagant wedding and spend the rest of my life with 

her.” 

Under the surgical drape, my eyes flew open, and my mind went completely blank. 

So all of it was a setup he’d orchestrated, just to fulfill Cecilia Vance’s medical dreams. 

“Oh, and one more thing, this time we’re taking the brain, not the eyeball. When she wakes up, be careful not 

to slip up.” 

My blood ran cold all the way through. 

He didn’t know that my ability came from a brain different from any normal person’s. 

Once the brain was removed, it wouldn’t regenerate. 

And I would die for sure. 

Chapter 1 

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دلچسپ پرکس کو غیر مقفل کرنے کے لیے کھیلیں 

On the operating table, I struggled with everything I had, but the restraints strapped over my limbs held me completely immobile. 

Cecilia walked in and pulled back the drape, frowning at me with obvious displeasure. 

“What are you making a scene for? The surgery’s about to start. Stop moving.” 

“Let me go!” 

My eyes were bloodshot. 

“I’m not doing this surgery!” 

A metallic voice exploded inside my skull. 

[Warning! Warning! The host only has one surgery left to complete the target and escape this parallel world.] 

[Abandoning now means everything resets to zero and you start over from the beginning.] 

If this were the old me, I never would have let all that effort go to waste. 

But now I knew-that voice was nothing more than a hallucination induced by hypnosis. 

Cecilia let out a cold laugh and called the nurses over to tighten the straps. 

“It’s not up to you whether you do it or not. If you delay my research, can you even afford the consequences?” 

Nathaniel Sterling heard the commotion and came in from behind the door. 

He frowned and asked, “What’s going on? Didn’t you give her the anesthetic?” 

The doctor checked the monitors. 

“Mr. Sterling, we’ve used anesthesia too many times. Ms. Morrison has developed a tolerance. We’ll need a different drug.” 

“I won’t take it!” I screamed. “You can’t cut open my skull!” 

Nathaniel froze. “So you heard all that.” 

He paused, then softened his voice. “You’ve been complaining about those migraines anyway. Take the brain 

out, grow a new one-maybe that’ll fix it.” 

“Nathaniel, I will die,” tears welled up against my will, and my voice shook. 

Chapter 1 

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دلچسپ پرکس کو غیر مقفل کرنے کے لیے کھیلیں 

“You lied to me for four years. I won’t hold that against you. I’m only begging you-let me go this one time. 

Please.” 

He looked down in silence, a flicker of hesitation in his eyes. 

“Elena, what are you playing at with that pitiful act?” 

Cecilia’s tone was laced with amusement. “Which one of these surgeries hasn’t left you alive and kicking 

afterward?” 

“Nate, if we don’t start now, I’m going to miss Muffin’s feeding time.” 

Muffin was her dog. 

He stopped hesitating and signaled the nurse to continue with the anesthetic. 

“Elena, Muffin is delicate. She can’t go hungry.” 

“This is the last one. After this, we have a long life ahead. I’ll make it all up to you.” 

In his eyes, my life mattered less than whether a dog got its dinner on time. 

Chapter1 

My second wedding anniversary. The husband who promised to celebrate with me went silent. 

I waited at the restaurant. 

Instead of him, a call came through-from the future. 

A girl’s voice, shaking, barely holding it together. 

“Mom, don’t wait. Rory’s at the County Clerk’s Office right now.” 

“He’s getting a marriage license with someone else.” 

I laughed. “You could’ve made it more believable. Rory and I have been together eight years. Married two.” 

“Everyone knows he loves me.” 

She started crying harder. “Mom, my name is Ruby.” 

“You picked that name yourself. Your marriage license is fake. Everyone’s been lying to you.” 

“Go to the Clerk’s Office. Dad and Lena are about to walk out.” 

It sounded crazy. 

My head told me not to believe it. But my feet were already moving. 

Outside the Clerk’s Office, I saw them. 

A crowd of familiar faces. Rory with his arm around a woman I’d never seen before. He kissed her forehead. 

My best friend Gemma was wiping tears-of joy. 

“Congratulations, Rory and Lena. After seven years, you finally made it.” 

Seven years. 

For eight years I’d been with him. For seven of them, he’d had someone else. 

And I was the joke. 

I watched them leave, the ache spreading through my chest. 

Two days ago, these same people had toasted my marriage. 

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دلچسپ پرکس کو غیر مقفل کرنے کے لیے کھیلیں 

D 

Gemma had her arm around me: “Maren is my best friend. Rory, if you hurt her, you answer to me.” 

Now they were cheering for her. For the other woman. 

I went to a lawyer. 

The clerk checked the records and gave me a strange look. 

“Rory Delaney’s legal spouse is Lena Park. Not Maren Hale.” 

The world tilted. 

The girl on the phone was right. 

My marriage license-the one I’d held like a treasure-was a forgery. 

My phone rang again. Ruby. 

I answered, my voice shaking. “How do you know all this? What happens in the future?” 

I believed her. 

Not just because she’d been right-but because Ruby was the name I’d always planned to give my daughter. 

Ruby’s voice cracked. “On my eighteenth birthday, the son that woman had with Dad also turned eighteen.” 

“That’s when he told everyone the truth.” 

In that timeline, I couldn’t let go. 

I went to confront Lena. 

She turned it around. Accused me of being the mistress. 

Sued me for every penny Rory had ever spent on me. 

“Dad admitted to everything. Gemma testified for her. You lost. Fifty thousand.” 

“You sold everything. Grandma and Grandpa lost their house. I couldn’t afford school.” 

“And then… you broke. Dad had you committed on fake charges.” 

The call ended. 

I stood in the wind, nails digging into my palms. 

After college, I’d helped Rory build his company from nothing. 

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پرکس کو غیر مفعل کرنے کے لیے کھیلیں 

We’d lived in a basement. Shared one meal across two days. 

I thought we’d survived the hard parts. 

Turns out the last fall was the one he pushed me into. 

That night, I saw Gemma’s Instagram story. 

“Protecting My Best Friend Lena’s Marriage.” 

The photo was a group chat. 

Everyone I knew-except me. 

“Rory, Lena-congratulations!” 

“Don’t worry. We’ll keep Maren out of it. We can’t let her ruin Lena’s happiness.” 

Seconds later, it disappeared. 

I called Gemma. 

My voice was raw. 

“I saw your post. Why did you lie to me?” 

Chapter 1

Tina Marlowe, my best friend, loosened the screws on my prosthetic leg on the day we took our class portrait.

I tumbled down the steps in front of the whole school, the camera catching every second of

Pagmulat ng mga mata ko, ang agad kong naramdaman ay ang pagsirit ng kirot sa pagitan ng mga hita ko. Napangiwi ako dahil nang gumalaw ako ay doon ko naman nadama ang pananakit ng mga hita, braso at balakang ko.

Then, everything went back to me like a flood. How we ended up in this hotel room and me, surrendering my virginity to the mighty Ashton Nicholo Aguilar.

Mainit na ilaw, maingay na tugtog, at paulit-ulit na amoy ng alak… normal na gabi lang ito sa bar, at normal na pagod lang din ang nararamdaman ko.

Pero the moment na lumingon ako sa table sa right wing, naramdaman kong may mga matang nakatutok sa akin.

At hindi basta ordinaryong pares ng mga mata. They are the dark and beautiful Ashton Aguilar’s eyes.

For weeks, ramdam ko na. Malimit na ang mga palihim na tingin, pahabol na ngiti, at kung minsan ay halatang pinagmamasdan niya ang bawat galaw ko.

Sa dami ng mga babaeng nagsusumiksik sa paligid niya… mga naka-backless, naka-mini skirt, at kung ano pang puwedeng idikit sa balat, ako pa iyong pinipili niyang titigan.

Hindi ko alam kung nakakainis o nakatatawa ba iyon. Siguro both.

“Miss, the group on Table 7 is calling you,” sabi ni Joan, coworker ko, saka iniabot ang tray ng bagong drinks.

Of course. Table 7. The ego table. The billionaire-babies-who-think-they-can-buy-the-world table.

Huminga ako nang malalim bago lumapit.

Pagkaharap ko, halos sabay-sabay silang ngumisi. At si Ashton… nakasandal lang, medyo pabukaka ang pagkakaupo niya na parang hari, may hawak na baso ng whiskey.

Ashton had always been everyone’s favorite here, lalo na ng mga kababaihan. The kind of man women fall for just by breathing the same air as him.

Unfortunately for him, hindi ako kasali sa mga babaeng iyon. Kailangan ko lang talagang magtrabaho para suportahan ang sarili ko.

“Aviona, right?” tanong ng isa sa mga kaibigan niya.

“Yes, sir?” magalang pero walang emosyong sagot ko. Kabisado ko na ang katarantaduhan ng mga ito. Kahit mga gaya kong crew ay hindi pinalalampas kapag may naisip na kalokohan.

They are practically untouchable because they are filthy rich and has an unimaginable influence in the society.

Biglang ngumisi si Ashton nang tumingin sa akin at magsalita. “They’re challenging me,” he said, eyes locked on mine. “Kung kaya daw ba kitang iuwi ngayong gabi?”

Tinaasan ko lang siya ng kilay at hindi nagpakita ng anumang ekspresyon. “Okay… and?”

Nagulat siya. Actually, lahat sila. Kitang-kitang sa mga mukha na hindi nila inaasahan ang magiging sagot ko.

Siguro dahil ang inaasahan niya ay kikiligin ako. O aatras sa takot. O, kahit ano… basta hindi iyong klase ng tono na ipinapakita ko ngayon.

Biglang humalakhak ang mga kaibigan niya.

“Bro, she’s already rolling her eyes at you,” sabi ng isa.

“Rejected ka agad, pre?” dagdag ng isa pa.

Hindi ko pinansin. Tumayo lang ako nang diretso, naghihintay kung may order ba sila, or if this is just another testosterone show.

Ashton leaned closer, the dominant alpha move type. “Aviona,” he said softly, “one million for a night with me.”

Natahimik ang mga babaeng nasa paligid nila at pare-parehong umawang ang mga labi. Natahimik naman ang mga kaibigan niya at lahat sila ay nakatingin sa akin.

Waiting. Expecting.

They seemed convinced that this is the moment that I will give in to their game, like every other woman who practically throws herself at him.

Pero hindi nagbago ang tindig ko. Nakatingin lang ako kay Ashton at wala siyang makikitang anumang emosyon sa mukha ko.

Tapos… tumawa ako na lalong ikinagulat nilang lahat.

“Sir,” sabi ko habang bahagyang umiling, “one million isn’t enough to buy something I’m not selling.”

Nabura sa isang iglap ang ngiti ni Ashton. Literally. Parang may bumasag sa ego niya.

“Kung wala na po kayong kailangan, maiwan ko po muna kayo. Marami pa po akong gagawin.”

Nang wala pa ring sumagot ay magalang na akong tumalikod at iniwan ko silang lahat.

At doon ko narinig ang halos sabay-sabay na kantiyaw ng mga kaibigan niya.

“Bro. Bro. Bro. Did you see her face?”

“One million, tapos tinawanan ka lang?”

“This is the first time you paid to get rejected! That’s interesting and entertaining at the same time!”

“Dude, this is historic. Iconic. Legendary. You’re done.”

Hindi ko na nilingon. Busy ako. Maraming trabaho. At lalong hindi ako binabayaran para makipaglandian sa mga lalaking sanay makuha ang lahat ng gusto nila.

Pero habang naglalakad ako pabalik sa counter… ramdam ko ang mariin na tingin ng isang tao sa akin.

Tumingin ako saglit. At nakumpirma kong si Ashton nga ang nakatitig.

Nakangisi na siya ngayon… hindi naman arrogante at hindi galit, pero isang ngiting nakakainis.

Iyong ngiting nagsasabing: “Challenge accepted.”

At doon, sa unang beses, naramdaman kong may paparating na gulo. At lahat ng iyon ay magsisimula sa isang lalaking hindi ko dapat binigyang-pansin… pero heto siya, gumagawa ng eksena para guluhin ang isip ko.

And he is Ashton Nicholo Aguilar.

“You’re awake!”

Napasinghap ako at naputol ang pag-iisip ko nang bumukas ang banyo sa may dulong bahagi ng kuwarto at lumabas mula roon si Ashon.

Fresh na fresh at bagong ligo. Lintek! Bakit naman napaka-guwapo ng demonyong ito? Muli kong nakagat ang pang-ibabang labi ko dahil nang gumalaw ako ay kumirot na naman ang p********e ko.

Hindi ako makapaniwala na ganoon pala kalaki ang ari ng isang lalaki. Parang hindi naman yata ganoon iyong kay kuya. As in ang sakit talaga noong ipasok na niya iyon sa akin.

Akala ko talaga kagabi mawawasak na ang ibabang bahagi ng katawan ko. Sobrang sakit. Pero kalaunan nasarapan na rin ako kahit may kirot pa rin. So that’s how s*x works. There is pain and there is pleasure at the same time.

“Naipadala mo na ba ang pera?” malamig na tanong ko. Kumunot ang noo niya. Para bang hindi niya inaasahang ganito lang kalamig ang tono ko.

“I will double the amount if you stay and make me happier in bed. Hindi pa sapat sa akin iyong ginawa natin. I want more!” lumapit siya sa akin at hinaplos ang pisngi ko.

“Hindi ako pokpok, Ashton! Kailangang-kailangan ko lang ng pera kaya pumayag ako sa gusto mo!” asik ko sa kaniya.

“Well, I never said you are a w***e. Pero kung isang beses lang natin gagawin iyon, hindi naman kaya lugi ako masyado?” tanong niya.

Napanganga ako at naningkit ang mga mata. “Lugi ka? Heto na nga at halos hindi ako makagalaw sa sakit ng ano ko, tapos lugi ka pa? Kakaiba rin ang mindset mo, ano?”

Pinilit kong bumaba kahit nahihirapan ako. Pero muntik na akong mapamura nang bigla niya akong buhatin. Nagulat kasi ako.

“Ibaba mo ako, Ashton!” angil ko sa kaniya.

“Huwag kang malikot kung ayaw mong tirahin kita ulit ngayon. Ang bango pa naman ng pawis mo, tinitigasan agad ako!” mapang-asar na saad niya.

Napanganga ako sa kabastusan ng bibig niya. Pero ano pa bang aasahan sa mga gaya niya?

Hindi ako kumapit sa kaniya nang lumakad na siya papuntang banyo. Niyakap ko lang ang sarili ko hanggang makapasok kami roon.

Bahagyang umawang ang mga labi ko. “Ang laking banyo naman nito…” wala sa sariling nausal ko.

“Ang ignorante mo naman! Banyo lang, para ka nang nakakita ng palasyo!” angil niya sa akin. Kaya naman mabilis ko siyang tiningnan saka mahinang binatukan.

“Ouch! Bakit nananakit ka?” reklamo niya.

“Eh, napakamapanlait mo, eh! Masama bang mamangha sa ganitong banyo, eh, mas malaki pa yata ito sa bahay namin ni kuya!” sabi ko.

“Sige na! Maligo ka na at ihahatid na kita sa inyo. May lakad pa ako,” masungit niyang tugon. Inirapan ko siya.

“Umalis ka na! Ako na ang bahala sa sarili ko. Hindi mo na ako kailangang ihatid!” tinalikuran ko siya. Tapos ngayon ko lang na-realize, nag-uusap kami na hubo’t hubad pa pa pala ako.

“Kapag sinabi kong ihahatid kita, ihahatid kita! Tapos ang usapan!” Singhal niya at padarag na lumabas ng banyo. Kulang na lang ay ibalibag pa niya ang pagkakasara niyon.

“Demonyo talaga!” inis na inis na bulong ko. Pero muling nabaling ang paningin ko sa kabuuan ng bathroom.

“Ibang klase talaga ang mga mayayaman. Banyo pa lang halatang milyones na ang halaga!” napapailing na lamang ako at nagsimula nang maligo.

Nakakatuwa na kahit papaano ay naibsan ng maligamgam na tubig ang pananakit ng buong katawan ko. Maging ang pagitan ng mga hita ko ay hindi na gaanong makirot.

Nilapitan ko ang cabinet na salamin ang pintuan at binuksan iyon. Doon ay nakita ko ang nakatiklop na mga tuwalya na iba’t iba ang kulay – gray, blue, dark green at may itim pa.

Pero ang kinuha ko ay iyong naka-hanger na pulang roba. Natakpan pa niyon ang sakong ko sa haba. Sabagay, mga gamit ni Ashton ito at napakatangkad niya. Kahit 5’7” ang height ko, parang ang liit ko pa ring tingnan sa tabi niya.

Lumabas ako ng banyo na pinupunasan pa ng tuwalya ang basa kong buhok. Pero agad kumalam ang sikmura ko nang makaamoy ng pagkain. Bigla akong naglaway sa gutom.

“Let’s eat before we go! I bought you some clothes to change on to,” walang-emosyong saad niya saka tuloy-tuloy na naglakad patungo sa mini dining area at naupo roon.

Napansin ko ang mesang may nakahain nang mga pagkain. Nilingon ko pa iyong paperbags doon sa may sofa. Napalabi ako. Binilhan daw niya ako ng pagbibihisan.

Paano ba naman kasi, napaka-wild niya kagabi. Pinunit ba naman ang damit ko. Muli ay napapailing na lamang akong lumapit sa mesa.

“Ikaw ang nagluto?” kaswal na tanong ko.

“And why would I cook, kung puwede namang mag-order ng pagkain?” masungit na sagot niya.

Napamaang ako at nanliit agad ang mga mata ko nang tumingin sa kaniya.

“Mainit ba ang ulo mo? Nagtatanong lang, ang angas mo namang sumagot. Hindi ka siguro mahal ng Mama mo!” inis kong sabi sa kaniya.

Pero imbes na mainis ay bigla siyang natawa. Ttooong tawa kaya namangha ako kasi mas guwapo pa pala siya kapag totoo iyong saya sa mga mata niya.

“I am my mom’s favorite child. Baka ikaw ang hindi mahal ng Mama mo!” para yatang pang-aasar niya.

Pero hindi ako nakasagot. Bumigat ang dibdib ko at humapdi ang puso ko. Masyadong maganda ang umaga para alalalahanin ang malulungkot na bagay.

“Hey,” untag nya sa akin kasi hindi ko pinatulan ang joke niya. “I was just kidding. Bakit bigla ka namang sumeryoso riyan? Kapag ikaw ang nang-asar, puwede. Kapag ginantihan kita, bawal.”

Bahagya akong napangiti at umiling” Hindi sa gano’n. kumain ka na lang! Kalalaki mong tao, ang daldal mo!”

“The next time na tatarayan mo ako nang ganiyan, sisiguraduhin kong hindi ka makakalakad ng ilang araw!” banta niya sa akin, kaya nabitin sa ere ang pagsubo ko.

“At ano naman ang gagawin mo, aber? Lulumpuhin mo ako?” sinimangutan ko siya.

“Yes! Lulumpuhin talaga kita, kaya huwag mong sasagarin ang pasensya ko!” seryoso siyang nagsasalita pero iyong mga mata niya ay halatang may iniisip na kalokohan.

Hindi ako sure kung biro ba iyon o ano. Pero hindi na ako sumagot pa. Mas maiging manahimik kaysa mapahamak. Hindi ko personal na kilala ang lalaking ito kaya baka totohanin niya ang sinabi niya.

Pagkatapos naming kumain, tumayo siya agad at nagsipilyo. Kasunod niyon ay nagbihis na siya at kinuha ang susi ng kotse niya.

“Bilisan mo. Ihahatid na kita,” utos niya na parang wala akong pamimilian.

Hindi na ako sumagot. Kinuha ko lang iyong paper bag at nagbihis sa banyo. Pagbalik ko, nakasandal na siya sa pader, hawak ang phone niya, pero halatang ako ang hinihintay.

Pagkalabas namin ng condo, hindi niya ako tinanong kung saan kami pupunta. Diretso lang siyang nagmaneho… relax, confident, parang kabisado niya ang buong mundo.

Pero nanlaki ang mga mata ko nang huminto siya sa tapat ng school ko.

“P–Paano mo alam na–?”

“Aviona,” putol niya, hindi man lang tumingin sa akin, “it’s a piece of cake. Masyado mo talagang minamaliit ang kakayahan ko!”

Parang may gumuhit na lamig sa likod ko. Hindi ko alam kung dapat ba akong ma-impress… o maalarma.

Paglingon niya, may nakakalokong ngiti na sa mga labi niya… iyong tipong alam niyang madadala niya ako sa nais niya.

“Call me,” mahina pero mapanukso niyang sabi. “Iyong offer ko? It will be standing. Anytime. I promise, the next time won’t hurt as much. Mas masarap at mas mag-eenjoy ka na!”

Napairap ako sa sobrang inis. “Inulit mo pa talaga?”

“Of course.” Bahagya niyang tinaas ang baba niya. “I don’t give up easily. Especially not on you.”

Nag-init ang magkabilang tainga ko sa dagdag na inis. “Hindi kita tatawagan,” mariin kong sabi. “I hope this will be the last time na magkikita tayo!”

“Hindi pa ngayon.” Umangat ang sulok ng mga labi niya. “But I’m sure, bibigay ka rin sa akin.”

“Never,” sagot ko, at agad kong binuksan ang pinto.

Buti na lang mabilis akong nakalabas, kasi baka masampal ko siya sa kakapalan ng mukha niya. Malakas na isinara ko ang pinto… kung puwede lang sabayan ng lindol, ginawa ko na.

Pero bago ako tuluyang makalakad palayo, bumaba pa ang bintana ng kotse niya.

“Aviona,” tawag niya. Hindi ako lumingon, pero huminto ako.

“I enjoyed last night,” sabi niya sa mababang boses, parang nang-aakit lang.

Napakuyom ang kamao ko sa hiya at inis.

“Rot in hell, Ashton,” sabi ko nang hindi tumitingin, at tuloy-tuloy naakong pumasok sa campus.

Narinig ko pang tumawa ang demonyo bago siya umalis. At habang naglalakad ako, iisang bagay lang ang pumapasok sa utak ko…

Ano bang klaseng sumpa ang nadampot ko at nakilala ko pa ang lalaking iyon? Kung hindi lang para kay kuya, hinding-hindi ako papayag sa gusto niya!

Pagkarating ko sa loob ng campus, pilit kong pinakakalma ang sarili ko. Kahit pakiramdam ko ay sinusundan pa rin ako ng amoy ng demonyong iyon at ng nakakaasar niyang tawa.

Pagliko ko papunta sa building namin, biglang may humampas sa braso ko.

“Ay, glowing ang BFF ko! Pero bakit parang pagod na pagod ka?” si Melody, best friend ko since first year, naka-ngisi at naka-akbay na agad sa akin.

Napasinghap ako. “Huwag mo nga akong ginugulat.”

Pero mas lalo lang siyang ngumisi. “So… kumusta ang kagabi?”

Tumigil ako sa paglalakad. “Mel, please. Ayokong pag-usapan ‘yon.”

Umikot pa siya sa harap ko, naglalakad paatras habang naka-kunot ang noo.

“Kailangang pag-usapan iyon, at least with me, no? Alam ko namang kaya mo tinanggap ‘yong deal dahil kay kuya. Pero, Avi… kumusta ka?”

Huminga ako nang malalim. “I’m fine. Tapos na rin iyon.”

“Really?” Tinaasan niya ako ng kilay. “Kasi sa hitsura mo, parang hindi pa naman tapos.”

“Melody,” may banta na sa tono ko… pero imbes na tumigil siya, mas lalo lang lumala.

“Ay, wait!” tumigil siya sa paglalakad at pilyang ngumiti sa akin. “Masarap ba? Anong pakiramdam ng–”

“Melody!” naeeskandalong saway ko sa kaniya. Napalinga ako sa paligid kasi baka may makarinig sa mga sinasabi niya.

“Ito naman, ang arte! Curious lang iyong tao, eh!” irap niya sa akin.

“Huwag ka nang ma-curious,” angil ko naman. Halos magkandahaba ang nguso niya sa pagsimangot.

“By the way, nag-pills ka ba?”

Napakurap ako. “Ha?”

“Oh, my God, Avi.” Nilapitan niya ako at parang gusto niya akong batukan. “Hindi ka uminom ng pills?!”

Nagpanting ang mga tainga ko. “Ano bang–?”

“Aviona! Kapag hindi ka uminom, puwede kang… hay, naku, ewan ko sa ‘yo!” pinihit niya ako paalis ng hallway, para kaming nasa action movie. “Baka mabuntis ka!”

Parang may sumabog na granada sa utak ko.

“Ano?!” napahigpit ang hawak ko sa bag ko. “Hindi naman siguro… ay, Mel! Hindi ako handa sa ganyan!”

“Tanga, walang handa sa pregnancy sa edad natin! Mag-pills ka na mamaya, okay?! Naku, bubugbugin ka ng kuya mo kapag mabuntis ka nang wala sa panahon!”

Napapadyak pa siya sa sahig sa matinding kaba at pag-aalala. Bakit ba hindi pumasok sa isip ko ang bagay na iyon? I should have protected myself!

“Oo na! Bibili ako mamaya pagkatapos ng klase,” halos bulong ko sa sobrang hiya at kaba.

“Good.” Bumalik na ang pagiging chill niya. “Tara na, late na tayo.”

Habang naglalakad kami papasok ng classroom, ramdam ko pa rin ang pagsusungit niya na may halong concern. Pero imbes na magkuwento, ngumiti lang ako at umiling.

“Avi, seriously,” dikit pa rin siya nang dikit sa akin, “may iba pa bang nangyari na kailangan mong sabihin?”

“Wala,” mabilis kong sagot.

“Ay, sorry,” bigla siyang umarte na parang naputol ang kabuuan ng pantasya niya. “I forgot na Aviona ‘Very Private Life’ Vinaroa ka pala.”

“Exactly,” sagot ko at tiningnan siya nang masama.

Umismid siya, pero ngumiti rin. “Fine. Pero if may problema, sabihin mo sa akin. Alam mo namang palagi lang akong nandito para sa iyo.”

Napahinga ako nang malalim. Kung alam lang niya. Kung alam lang niya kung gaano kagulo ang utak ko simula kaninang gumising ako.

At kung paano ako binuwisit ng isang nakakainis, mayabang, at sobrang guwapong demonyo! The only consolation here is my brother. He will be freed soon…

Chapter 1

After seven years together, Nathaniel Burke and I finally walked into a bridal photography studio.

Seraphina Voss—my best friend, the matchmaker who had set us up in the first place—came along to help.

The moment she slipped into her bridesmaid dress, Nathaniel’s eyes lit up with undisguised admiration.

He actually suggested she join us for a few shots, just for memory’s sake.

When I stood in the center of the frame in my gorgeous white gown, Seraphina laughed and said she looked like a servant.

Nathaniel grabbed my arm and yanked me to the edge, clearing the spotlight for her.

The flash went off—and they looked like a perfect couple, seamless and natural.

During the selection, he pointed at that three-person photo and demanded it be blown up as the wedding welcome display poster.

My eyes stung. “Why does another woman get the front-and-center spot on our wedding poster?”

He shoved the mouse away with a scowl.

“Stop being so petty. If Seraphina hadn’t introduced us, you wouldn’t even be marrying me. What’s the big deal about one photo? I’m still the one marrying you!”

I looked at the image on the screen—me in the most expensive gown, yet standing there like an awkward outsider.

I finally understood: some positions aren’t yours just because you stand in them.

I stopped fighting for the frame.

…

I unclenched my fists, and my voice came out eerily calm.

“Fine. Use that one.”

Nathaniel blinked, clearly surprised I’d caved so fast.

But Seraphina knew exactly when to loop her arm through his and give a gentle shake.

“Nathaniel, maybe forget it. Vivian doesn’t look too happy. Don’t let me cause problems between you two.”

She always played that card so well—the perfect mix of understanding and wounded innocence.

Nathaniel’s brow furrowed, and he patted her hand.

“What’s she got to be unhappy about?”

“If you hadn’t brought her into our circle back then, she wouldn’t have even had the chance to meet me.”

His words cut into me like shards of glass.

I stared at the blown-up photo on the screen.

Seraphina in her crisp white bridesmaid dress, beaming with confidence.

Nathaniel tilting his head toward her, his eyes soft with tenderness.

And me, off to the side, like a cheap extra who wandered onto the wrong set.

I pulled out my phone, scanned the code, and paid the photo selection fee.

“Send all the raw files to my email. Use this one for the poster. Do whatever you want with the rest.”

I turned and pushed through the studio’s glass door.

Nathaniel chased after me and grabbed my wrist.

“What’s your problem now? Seraphina came all this way to help, and you’re giving everyone attitude?”

I pulled my hand free, my voice flat. “I don’t have a problem. I said yes to that photo, didn’t I?”

He faltered, his face turning sour.

“You’d better mean it.”

Seraphina hurried out after us, holding two cups of coffee.

“Nathaniel, Vivian, don’t fight. I got your favorite lattes.”

She handed one to Nathaniel, the other to me.

Nathaniel took his, then pulled out the straw, stuck it in, and passed it back to her. “You have a sensitive stomach—don’t drink anything too cold. Here, take the hot one.”

Then he turned to me, matter-of-fact. “Vivian, you have the iced one. You’re healthier anyway.”

I watched the steam rise from Seraphina’s latte—my favorite order. Half-sweet, extra shot.

The iced Americano he shoved at me was something I absolutely couldn’t drink during my period.

And I remembered he’d circled that date on the calendar just yesterday.

He hadn’t forgotten. He just habitually put me second whenever Seraphina was around.

I didn’t take the iced coffee. I walked straight to the car parked at the curb.

“Let’s go. We still need to pick up the custom wedding bands.”

The ride was suffocatingly silent.

At the jewelry store, the sales associate slid a velvet box across the counter.

Inside lay two diamond rings, catching the light in tiny sparkles.

Engraved on the inner band were our initials, linked by a small heart.

I’d spent three months’ salary designing them, down to the last detail.

They held every hope I had for this relationship.

Nathaniel picked up the woman’s ring—but his gaze wasn’t on me.

“Seraphina, your hand is about the same size as Vivian’s. Try it on for size.”

My head snapped up. I stared at him in disbelief.

You don’t let someone else try on your wedding ring.

Seraphina covered her mouth and giggled, a glint of defiance in her eyes.

“Isn’t that a little weird? It’s your wedding ring, after all.”

“What’s weird about it? It’s just a size check. Vivian won’t be that petty.”

He took Seraphina’s hand and slid the ring—the symbol of our promise—slowly onto her ring finger.

It fit perfectly.

She raised her hand to admire the diamond under the lights.

“Beautiful. You have great taste, Nathaniel.”

I stared at that ring, my stomach churning.

“Take it off.” My voice was ice.

Seraphina flinched and shot Nathaniel a wounded look.

She tried to pull it off, but it snagged on her knuckle.

“Ow—that hurts.” Her eyes went red instantly.

Nathaniel grabbed her hand with alarm, carefully twisting the ring to ease it off.

“Don’t force it—what if you break a bone?”

He shot me a glare, his tone sharp.

“Couldn’t you have ordered half a size larger? Why make it so tight?”

I watched him berate me for another woman while I stood there with the ring I’d poured my heart into.

Something inside me shattered.

I didn’t argue. I didn’t cry.

I just pulled out my phone and saved the raw photo files the studio had just sent.

Those might come in handy later.

Half an hour of wrestling later, the ring was still stuck on Seraphina’s finger.

Nathaniel gazed at her slightly swollen knuckle with concern. “Forget it. Leave it on for today. We’ll take it off when the swelling goes down.”

He led her out, leaving me alone in the jewelry store.

I looked at the empty velvet box and let out a bitter, hollow laugh.

I pulled open the car door and slid into the passenger seat out of habit.

But the seat had been pushed all the way forward.

And on the headrest, a single long curl of Seraphina’s hair clung to the fabric

Sebastian Shaw came from a poor family.

Since we started dating, I was the one who gave him gifts.

With Valentine's Day approaching, I picked up a side job at a mall to buy him a suit.

Next door, at the jewelry store, a young couple came in.

The girl tugged at the man's sleeve and cooed.

"Aren't you going to break up with that poor thing yet? You can't be serious about her, right?"

The man lowered his head and swiped his card, buying a dozen pieces of gold jewelry at once.

"Didn't you tell me to chase her, make her fall hard for me, and then dump her?"

"The game's only halfway through. What's the rush?"

I stood frozen.

The girl was someone who had bullied me in high school.

And the man beside her was Sebastian Shaw.

The Vale diamond, all twenty carats of it, felt strangely, unnaturally cold against her skin.

Aurora stood before the full-length, gilt-edged mirror, a vision sculpted from ivory lace and Parisian silk. The gown was a masterpiece, a whisper of a promise that had taken six months of fittings to perfect. It clung to her waist before cascading to the floor in a torrent of white. She looked every inch the Vale heiress, the perfect bride, the future Mrs. Liam Cross.

She looked like a beautiful, magnificent lie.

A shiver, sharp and unwelcome, traced its way down her spine, prickling the skin beneath the silk. It had nothing to do with the air conditioning and everything to do with the man she was about to marry.

Liam.

His name, which once felt like home, now echoed with a strange dissonance in her mind.

He had been distant all week.

It wasn't just long nights at the Cross Empire headquarters, fueled by black coffee and the relentless push of the Asian merger. She was used to that. She respected his ambition; it was a mirror of her own.

No, this was different. This was a cold, quiet absence.

His kisses, once possessive and demanding, were now brief, dutiful pecks against her cheek. His touch, which used to set her skin on fire, was now light, almost forgetful. He looked through her, his gray eyes focused on something just over her shoulder, a future she suddenly wasn't sure she was part of.

Just last night, she had found him on the penthouse terrace, bathed in the cold blue light of his phone.

"Liam?" she'd murmured, pulling her silk robe tighter.

He hadn't looked up. "One minute, Aurora."

The minute stretched into five. The city lights glittered below them, a galaxy of stolen stars, but he saw none of it. He saw only the glowing screen.

"It's the merger," he'd said finally, his voice flat, devoid of the energy that usually crackled around him during a major deal. "It's… complicated."

"We're getting married tomorrow," she'd said, hating the small, pleading note in her voice. "Is everything all right? With us?"

He'd finally turned then. He tucked the phone into his pocket, but his hand remained there, as if tethered to it. He stepped forward and manufactured a smile. It was a perfect imitation of the Liam Cross smile—the one that disarmed board members and charmed journalists—but it didn't reach his eyes.

"Everything is perfect," he'd said, kissing her forehead. The gesture felt sterile, like a benediction. "I'm just stressed. Think about it. By this time tomorrow, you'll be Mrs. Cross. We'll be on a plane to Bora Bora. No phones, no mergers. Just you and me."

He'd promised. But the promise felt as hollow as the pit that had opened in her stomach.

Now, standing in her bridal suite, Aurora forced that memory down.

She was not a fool. She was Aurora Vale. She was fluent in three languages, held a degree in business and art history, and had negotiated her first multi-million-dollar acquisition for Vale Industries before her twenty-fifth birthday. She knew how to read people.

And she knew Liam was lying.

But what was the alternative? To believe the lie, or to tear down the entire cathedral of her life, stone by stone, just hours before the bells were meant to ring?

The scent of lilies in the room was overwhelming, cloyingly sweet. Thousands of them lined the grand staircase and the aisle below. Perfect, white, funereal lilies.

She touched the pearls at her throat, a wedding gift from her father, Henry. They were warm from her skin, a stark contrast to the glacial diamond on her finger.

Her father. He was downstairs, greeting senators and CEOs, his chest puffed with pride. This wedding wasn't just a marriage; it was an alliance. The merging of two great New York dynasties: Vale and Cross. It was everything he'd ever wanted for her.

She had wanted it, too. Desperately.

She remembered the night Liam proposed, nine months ago, at this very estate. He'd taken her to the old observatory, and under a ceiling of painted stars, he'd gone down on one knee. He hadn't been the cold CEO then. He'd been just Liam, his voice thick with an emotion that felt startlingly raw.

"You're the only thing that makes sense, Aurora," he'd whispered, his gray eyes clear and focused only on her. "Marry me. Be my anchor."

She had been his anchor. She had held him steady through boardroom battles and hostile takeover attempts. She had been his partner, his confidante.

So when had she become an inconvenience?

A sharp rap on the door broke her reverie.

Her maid of honor and oldest friend, Sophia Tan, burst in, her face a mask of joyous panic. "Oh my god, Aurora, you look… breathtaking. Absolutely ethereal. But we have to go. Now!"

Sophia fluffed a piece of Aurora's veil, her hands trembling with vicarious excitement. "Are you nervous? I'm nervous. I think I might throw up. It's like a royal wedding out there. Every single person in New York is on that lawn."

Aurora looked at her friend's bright, uncomplicated happiness and felt a sharp pang of envy. She arranged her own features into a serene smile. The mask.

"I'm not nervous," she lied.

"Of course you're not," Sophia laughed, grabbing her bouquet from the vanity. "You're about to marry Liam Cross. God, I'd kill for a man who looks at you the way he does."

But he doesn't look at me that way anymore.

The thought was so clear, so loud, it was a miracle she hadn't spoken it aloud.

"Here," Sophia said, pressing the heavy bouquet of lilies and white roses into her hands. "It's time. Are you ready?"

Aurora stared at her reflection. The perfect bride. The perfect dress. The perfect diamond. The perfect lie.

Her father was waiting outside the door to walk her down the aisle. Liam was waiting at the altar. The string quartet began to play the processional, the notes drifting up through the open window, beautiful and mournful.

This was it. The point of no return.

She could either be the girl who had everything, or the girl who threw it all away because of a feeling. And the Vales were not known for being emotional.

She took a deep, steadying breath, the scent of lilies flooding her senses, making her dizzy.

"I am," Aurora said, her voice a smooth, confident whisper.

But as she took her first step toward the door, her stomach twisted into a knot so cold and so tight, it felt like she had just swallowed broken glass.

The heavy oak doors of the Hierro estate always felt too tall, like they were designed to make whoever walked through them feel small.

Viola pulled the sleeves of her oversized sweater over her knuckles. She kept her head down, hoping her hair would fall over the sides of her face. Maybe if she stayed quiet enough, invisible enough, the evening would pass without any of the usual comments.

"Stand up straight, Viola," Octavia’s voice cut through the silence of the massive hallway, as cold and polished as the marble floor. "And for God’s sake, fix your hair. You look like you just climbed out of a gutter."

Viola flinched, immediately dropping her hands from her sleeves and tucking a strand of dark hair behind her ear. "Sorry, mother."

Vanessa brushed past her, smelling of expensive perfume and looking effortless in a tight, midnight-blue dress. She stopped, turning around with a cheap, neon-red mini dress in her hand.

"Mother," Vanessa said smoothly. "Look what I found in Viola's wardrobe."

Viola’s chest tightened. She stared at the red fabric, her eyes widening in panic.

Octavia’s face hardened instantly. She looked at the dress, then glared at Viola. "What is this?"

Viola shook her head, taking a small step back. "Mother, it is not mine. I didn't—"

Crack.

The slap landed hard across her cheek.

Viola’s head snapped to the side. The sharp sting radiated across her skin, but she clamped her mouth shut. She didn't reach up to touch her face. She just stood there, her breathing uneven.

Octavia looked at her and let out a disgusted sneer.

"I go to church," Octavia hissed, stepping closer. "I pray to God every day to keep filth away from this family, and this is what you bring into my house."

Viola didn't say anything. She just looked down at the floorboards, trying to swallow the tight lump in her throat.

"Go fix yourself," Octavia ordered, her tone harsh and unforgiving. "Your stepbrother is arriving today. After years."

She looked Viola up and down, her lip curling in resentment. "If it were not for Rafael, I would not even let you attend the dinner. I don't know why he even wants you there to embarrass us."

Vanessa let out a soft, amused breath and dropped the dress onto a nearby chair.

"Do not embarrass me tonight," Octavia warned. "Do not speak unless spoken to."

Viola just nodded. "Yes, mother."

She knew the rules by now. Stay quiet. Stay out of the way. Let Vanessa be the beautiful one, the charming one.

She didn't care about the arrival of some cartel prince anyway. She just wanted to disappear back into her room, where it was quiet and safe.

Dinner was agonizingly slow. The massive dining room felt suffocating. Rafael Hierro sat at the head of the table, looking older than the last time Viola had seen him, but still terrifying. He moved slowly, but his eyes tracked everything.

And then, the doors opened.

The air in the room seemed to vanish instantly.

Sebastian Cain Hierro didn't just walk into a room; he consumed it. He was massive—easily six-foot-three—with broad shoulders and the kind of dense, heavy muscle that made him look less like a businessman and more like an executioner. He wore a dark suit, but he didn't look civilized in it.

He ignored everyone at the table, stopping only when he reached Rafael.

"You're late," Rafael said, his voice gravelly and thick with authority.

"And you're still breathing," Sebastian replied, his tone smooth, careless, and completely devoid of warmth. "We all have our disappointments."

Rafael’s jaw tightened, but he didn't snap back.

Sebastian finally pulled out a chair—directly across from Viola. He sat back heavily, resting his arms on the table. He looked bored. He looked like he wanted to burn the house down and everyone inside it.

Viola swallowed hard, trying to keep her eyes glued to her plate. Her heart was suddenly beating too fast. The sheer, overwhelming presence of the man across from her was making her chest tight.

"Sebastian," Vanessa said smoothly, leaning forward just enough to show off the neckline of her dress. Her voice was pure honey. "It’s been a long time. You look... well."

Sebastian didn't even look at her. He didn't acknowledge Vanessa’s words or her smile. Instead, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a silver lighter, and began turning it slowly between his long, scarred fingers.

And then, he looked up.

His eyes were a striking, impossible shade of amber. They were cold, sharp, and predatory. And they were looking straight at Viola.

She froze. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't look away.

Sebastian’s gaze didn't soften. He didn't smile. He just stared at her, perfectly still, his eyes dragging slowly over her pale face, lingering for a second on her plump, nervous lips, before locking onto her violet eyes.

A heavy, suffocating silence stretched between them. Viola’s hands began to shake under the table. No one ever looked at her like that. People usually looked away quickly, unsettled by the color of her eyes. But Sebastian just watched her, his expression entirely unreadable.

"Who," Sebastian finally spoke, his voice deep and rough, wrapping around the room like a threat, "is this?"

He didn't point. He didn't even blink. He just kept his amber eyes locked onto Viola’s, trapping her completely in his stare.

"That is my youngest daughter," Octavia answered, her voice tight with thinly veiled irritation. "Viola."

Sebastian stopped turning the lighter in his hands. He slowly raised an eyebrow. "I never knew you had another daughter."

"She was shy when you were here," Octavia said quickly. "She didn't meet anyone before you moved out."

Sebastian tilted his head, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in a smirk that didn't reach his cold eyes. He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table.

"Viola," he repeated softly. The way he said her name made it sound dangerous.

He held her gaze for one more agonizing second, the silence stretching so tight she thought she might choke on it.

Then, he leaned back, breaking the stare.

"Quiet little thing, aren't you?" he murmured, pulling a cigarette from his pocket.

Viola didn't answer. She couldn't. Her hands were still trembling.

As the conversation slowly restarted around them, mostly driven by Vanessa’s desperate attempts to pull his attention back to her, Viola finally managed to look down at her lap.

But even without looking at him, she could feel it. She could feel the heavy, dangerous weight of Sebastian’s amber eyes, completely ignoring the beautiful sister trying to impress him, and watching the quiet, terrified girl instead.

I want a Divorce 

VICTORIA’S POV 

Cheers of encouragement erupt from the stadium below so loudly that I swear the ground shifts all around and even my own fingers tap together in rhythm as the seconds tick down and we’re two points behind. 

Just two agonizing points which is one goal. 

One single goal- that’s all it will take to get the winning cup. 

I smile as my eyes land on Jax, he has the puck, skating as fast as wind, his body like a rock as he maneuvers the stick, sliding past his teammates and the other team and when he dodges the defense from the opposite team, his own clears the way for him. 

I grimace at the way they aggressively make way for him, pushing and diving into the oposing team with force and within seconds, Jax slides the puck right past the goalie into the net, winning the game for the Ice Vortex and the crowd erupts in cheers so loud that my ears ring and the final game of the Puck Skates Cup is over, and we won. 

We won. 

I cheer until my throat feels raw, screaming at the top of my lungs even though no one can hear me from this stupid private glass suite overlooking the rink, and everybody in here joins in, clapping and whistling. 

I nearly press myself against the glass to spot Jax, but he’s lost in the swarming of his celebrating 

team. 

My beige knee length coat flares as I turn to look at Tomas Horton, and he’s grinning at me. 

“They did good, Devereaux.” He rises, whiskey glass in hand. 

“They did extremely well,” And I couldn’t be prouder, as a team manager and a wife to the Captain. 

Walking down to the locker rooms without running into one single media outlet, I pat myself on the back for the success, that’s until I reach the Ice Vortex’s locker room and the entire team is 

outside, laughing and chatting, still wearing their ice hockey gear, helmets tucked under their arms, leaning on sticks. 

“Hey guys.” I smile, looking for that ashy blonde hair. 

They become quieter, staring at me. 

8 

GO 

||| 

O 

144 

“Vicky,” James, our goalie steps in front of the door, “Quick question.” He murmurs 

I lift my hand, “It’s been a long day, James. We can talk about it tomorrow,” I step around hirm when Isaac blocks the entrance, and I become fairly suspicious, my nails digging into my palms as my 

spidey senses tingle. 

Taking one step back in my brown knee length boots, I stare up at Isaac, “Flint.” I stare up at the dark haired man that’s built like a fucking buss… 

“Devereaux,” He shoots back, eyebrows raise. 

“For a defenseman, you’re being very defensive of that damn locker room,” I peer around him. 

He grins, “Cap asked for a few minutes alone.” He shrugs like it isn’t a big deal, but that’s just weird. 

“After winning? Jax wants to be alone after winning the Puck Skates Cup?” I raise a questionable 

brow, and he gulps, adam’s apple bobbing with guilt. 

“Move, Flint.” I grit out in warning, and shoulder past him when James grabs my arm. 

“Just a minute, that’s all the man asks for,” he argues, lifting his shoulders like it’s not a big deal, getting just as defensive. Real fast. 

“Mind your section, Goalie.” I snap, and rip my arm free before storming into the locker room, and 

my heart drops right into my ass at the sight of Jax kissing a woman against a locker, not any 

locker, but his. 

Not 

any woman either, it’s Aubrey fucking Horton. 

“What the fuck, Dalton?” I grit out. 

He slowly peels his lips from hers as if he hadn’t just heard my voice, but what’s worse is when he 

turns his head to look at me with one smug ass grin on his lips that has pink lipstick smeared 

across it. Audrey’s shying behind his big frame, her cheeks flushed, lips swollen. 

“Audrey, you can go.” Jax straightens himself, letting her slip out from between him and the locker, 

and she makes a show of fixing her incredibly short, slutty skirt as she walks away from him. 

“Sorry, Vicky.” She breathes as she passes me, but I barely hear her as she struts past with swagger and no guilt. 

It takes every ounce of self control I’ve learned throughout my life to not reach for her silvery blonde hair and yank her to the ground. 

The second the door clicks shut, the simmering anger can’t be contained and I explode, “Are you fucking kidding me, Jax?” I raise my voice, and his eyes widen at that, but he’s quick to mask it with a cool, careless expression. 

2 

OGO ||| 

O 

< 

24 

I want a Divorce 

“Look, I want a divorce. It’s that easy.” He shrugs with no remorse. 

My ears ring from the blood rushing through my veins, “You son of a…” 

Clain 

He raises a hand, tutting as he shakes his head, “Look, you were great, but now you’re pretty useless to me, Vicky. You have to understand that, I need someone better, someone who can help me further my career, but since you’ve supported me all these years…” 

He stalks closer, wearing that same ridiculous grin that used to make my heart race in the best way possible, “We could still have a secret affair, then you can still live the life of luxury. I would never leave a pretty flower like you to rot in the misery of the poor.” 

He closes the proximity between us, staring down at me with gleaming eyes as if he’s offering me a favor. 

I can’t believe him. I can’t believe what I’m hearing and seeing. Has this been the real Jax from the start and I’ve only caught up now? Have I truly been so blind to miss this? Is this some sort of result of a fucking head injury? 

My hands shake with years worth of rage, and I do something I’ve never done before–I hit him. 

Straight across the face. With an open hand. 

His head swings at the impact of my hand against his cheek, the sound of skin to skin contact rippling through the air around me and his hand shoots up, touching his cheek with a brush of his fingers and when his honey eyes meet mine, shock lines them. 

“You sicken me.” I grit out, and watch as his mouth open and closes like a fish out of water. “A lawyer will handle this, and I will never, ever, be your little secret again.” 

“You’ll always come back for more, Victoria,” He grits out, stepping closer with authority he no longer own, “I’m the only one for you.” 

His head tilts, his toxic, controlling words sending my anger into a pit of fire. 

I slap him again, “I do not need you, Jax. I can have any man.” I bark out a dry, bitter laugh, “If I 

want…” 

I step closer, staring up at him, “I can go on a date with a man a hundred times better than you 

tomorrow.” 

I know I hit a nerve when his eyes narrow on me, anger swirling in those honey pools. 

“There is no man better than me!” Jax seethes, but I’m already halfway out of door, leaving my heart on the floor. 

I already have my phone out, and my lawyer on speed dial. 

SAY 

8 

3.4 

2 

GO 

||| 

< 

She answers on the third ring, and I only need to tell her one thing, “Draw up divorce papers 

because my skanky ass husband cheated on me.” 

I don’t have to delve into the details, because she knows what’s mine stays mine, and I don’t want 

anything from Jax anyway. 

My phone starts ringing, and my teeth grind together as I fish it out of my purse. 

Tomas Horton’s name flashes on my screen, and I silence it before flinging it back into my purse. 

He does not want to deal with me right now. 

I know why he’s calling. He’s wondering where the hell I am, but I will not be attending any 

celebratory party. Not with Jax. Not with the team. Certainly not with Audrey fucking Horton, or 

her father, Tomas. 

No, my party is for one tonight, and I have a date with about a dozen cocktails at the nearest fucking bar. 

Chapter 1 

The night before Julian Croft and I were supposed to get our marriage license, our friends threw a party 

Someone suggested a room-keycard game. 

“The rules were simple: whoever’s key you drew, you spent the night with.” 

My heart sank before I even knew why. 

Julian leaned in, brushed his lips against my ear, and smiled like he’d already won. 

“Relax,” he murmured. “I had someone fix the draw.” 

“I’m going to pull your card. Guaranteed.” 

So I said okay. 

But when Julian turned over his keycard… 

It had Chloe Thorne’s name on it. My best friend. 

The room exploded. 

Someone whistled, and cheers broke out. 

“A deal’s a deal. You’re not gonna back out, are you, Hazel?” 

Chloe’s cheeks went pink, and she reached for my hand. 

“Hazel, don’t read into it.” 

“It’s one night. I’ll just keep him out of trouble for you.” 

“I’m your best friend. You know you can trust me.” 

Julian turned to me with a frown. 

“It’s just a game. Don’t make it weird.” 

They both smelled like the same cologne. I didn’t know when that had started. 

I smiled. 

“Alright.” 

“Then I’ll take my turn.” 

Chapter 1 

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O 

10.00% 

I reached for the last keycard on the table like it didn’t matter. 

I turned it over, and the whole room went dead silent. 

Nathaniel Reed. 

The one person Julian hated most. 

I held the keycard up between two fingers and smiled at Julian. 

“It’s just a game.” 

“You’re not gonna back out, are you?” 

Julian’s expression darkened instantly. 

He reached for the keycard. 

“Hazel, stop making a scene.” 

I pulled it out of reach and smiled. 

“Isn’t it just a game?” 

Someone jumped in, trying to play peacemaker. 

“Hazel, come on. This is different.” 

“Chloe’s your best friend. What do you think is gonna happen?” 

Someone else chimed in. 

“Exactly. She’s doing you a favor, watching your man. What’s the problem?” 

“God, Hazel, you’re so possessive.” 

Chloe stood beside Julian, her eyes already rimmed red. 

“Hazel, let’s just forget the whole thing.” 

“I don’t want to come between you two. Not the night before your wedding.” 

She held the keycard out as she said it. 

But her grip was tight. She didn’t actually let go. 

Chapter 1 

INST 

10.00% 

Julian caught her wrist and stopped her. 

Then he looked at me, voice flat. 

“There’s nothing going on between me and Chloe.” 

“If we back out now, it just looks like we have something to hide.” 

“We’ve got nothing to be ashamed of, so why act like we do?” 

Chloe bit her lip, her voice dropping into something that was supposed to sound like concern. 

“Hazel, I get it. I know this bothers you.” 

“But if Julian and I tiptoe around this, people will only gossip.” 

“We share a room, nothing happens. That proves there’s nothing going on.” 

She dropped her gaze. 

“I’m your best friend.” 

“Don’t you even trust me?” 

I looked at the keycard still locked in her fist. A bitter laugh crawled up my throat. 

Someone nearby let out a loud, sympathetic sigh. 

“Chloe, you’re way too nice for your own good.” 

“You’re literally doing Hazel a favor and she’s making you look like the bad guy.” 

“Hazel, she’s already bending over backward here. What more do you want?” 

Julian’s jaw tightened, as if the dogpile bothered him. 

But he didn’t say a word to stop them. 

He just turned to Chloe and said, quietly, “Don’t cry. Nobody’s blaming you.” 

Chloe’s voice went even softer. 

“Don’t say that about Hazel.” 

“It hasn’t been easy for her either, you know, marrying into Julian’s world.” 

“The Sterlings have been through a difficult time. No wonder she’s feeling pressured.” 

Chapter 1 

INSTALL 

10.00% 

Yoho TV 

YOHO TV 

خوبصورت لڑکیوں کے ساتھ کھیل کھیلنا 

… 

Chapter 1 

The room went quiet for a beat. 

Then someone let out a knowing laugh. 

“That’s true.” 

“The Sterlings have faced challenges for years. No wonder she’s so desperate to keep him.” 

“No wonder she’s so paranoid.” 

Every drop of color drained from my face. 

When my family’s business went under, Julian was the one who proposed. 

He told me, “Hazel, I’ve got you. No one’s going to look down on you ever again.” 

But now… 

His friends were tearing me down right in front of him. 

And Julian just did nothing. 

And just like that, it clicked. 

His friends weren’t the ones looking down on me. 

Julian was.