The stadium was absolutely insane as the roar of the crowd’s cheers drowned out even the announcer’s voice. The impossible had been achieved. The giant was defeated by the underdog. It was a true Cinderella come-from-behind story, and the fans loved it.

Well, at least most of the fans. There were no cheers in my row of the arena, no excitement. Only sadness and shock could be found on my row, as it was the reserved seating for the Sun Stones’ family and friends.

A single tear rolled down my cheek as I thought of what this outcome would mean to my brother, my supporter, my best friend, my hero. He must be absolutely crushed. I knew I had to shed any tears I had here, before going to see him.

I would need to put on a happy face for him so my disappointment didn’t make him and his teammates feel any worse. He didn’t do badly—the other team just played better.

The other team was good, insanely good. In fact, I’d been watching these competitions for years and had never seen anything like them. It wasn’t as if every member on the team was the best in the world—actually, they seemed on par with my brother’s team.

What set them apart was definitely the tactics they used. I had watched their promo videos, just like everyone else in the audience. Apparently, the single female on their team, Mars, was the one who’d designed their strategies.

A high school senior, just like me. She must be an absolute genius.

I watched as Carter and his teammates shook hands with the other team before walking out of the arena. Wanting to comfort him, I quickly got up and left through the back door. To get to the green room, I had to circle around the foyer of the arena.

This left me fighting past the other spectators, making their way to restrooms, concession stands, and wherever else they were headed. As soon as I got past the last concession stand and out of the crowd of spectators, I took off running toward the green room. I needed to get to my brother—I needed to make sure he was all right.

One hallway left and I would be back to him. I sprinted around the corner, just three doors away, when a door suddenly opened in front of me. I was going too fast to stop, too fast to avoid the collision.

The next thing I knew, I was lying on the ground, dazed.

“Ouch,” I said, my head lying on the warm ground.

Wait, the corridor was cold, the ground was concrete—it shouldn’t have been warm. My face was definitely pressed against something warm. My hand was also touching something warm.

“As much as I normally enjoy a woman on top of me, mind getting off?” I heard a deep voice say, making me jump.

I quickly jumped up, realizing the warmth against my cheek was a guy’s chest. Not only had I managed to take myself out in my rush, I’d also tackled a guy who, based on his chest, was very muscular.

“I am so, so, so sorry,” I quickly said, too embarrassed to look up at his face.

“Do you have a license?” he casually asked.

“Huh?” I was still too embarrassed to look up, but his question caught me off guard.

“Because you just swept me off my feet and drove off with my heart,” he casually said, like it was nothing.

“What? Do lines like that actually work?” I questioned, finally looking up and freezing when I saw who I had bumped into.

The guy in front of me was one of the players I had just watched in the arena. It was Neptune, one of the members of the Romans, the Cinderella team that just beat my brother. He was attractive on the TV, but up close, he was even hotter.

I could definitely get lost in his eyes.

“Not really. Sorry, your beauty stopped my brain from functioning,” he replied, causing my cheeks to heat up. “You’re even more stunning when you blush.”

Was he seriously hitting on me? I’d never had a guy hit on me, and this Adonis was actually hitting on me?

“Nep, you coming back?” a girl yelled from inside the room he had just come out of.

Shoot, that’s right—I had to get back to my brother. He turned to say something to the girl, and I used the opportunity to run away, back to my original mission of getting to the Sun Stones’ green room.

I burst through the door of their room, making a loud clang as the metal handle banged into the wall. I was met with a deafening silence. No one looked up, no one acknowledged me as each member was trapped in their own world, coming to terms with the loss, their fall from the top.

Carter was sitting in an armchair, his head hanging, buried in his hands. I slowly walked over to him and sat on the arm of the chair, wrapping my arms around his broad shoulders, encasing him in a hug. Our usual roles were reversed; normally he was the one comforting me.

My skinned knee after falling off my bike when I was ten. My tears when Jack called me fat in seventh grade. My first B in Mr. Gregory’s sophomore English class. Carter had been there for me countless times, comforting me and telling me it was all right. It was finally my turn to be there for him, to make him feel better.

Carter leaned toward me, putting his head on my leg. No words passed between us; no words were needed. Despite my best efforts to not show my own emotions, I couldn’t stop the tears that streamed down my cheeks.

Seeing my hero so upset was too much for me to handle. I leaned forward, placing my head on his back and wrapping my arms tightly around him. We just lay there, silently crying and seeking comfort from each other.

We stayed like that for about five minutes until Ricky, my brother’s best friend and teammate, walked over.

“Awards are in five minutes,” he quietly said.

I lifted my head to look at Ricky and saw his matching slightly puffy eyes that indicated he had spent the past few minutes the same way we had. I wanted to get up and hug him too, but knew Carter would be upset by that.

Even as a brotherly hug, he wouldn’t want me hugging a guy. For some reason, my mind went to my encounter in the hallway, before I shook it off and focused back on the men in front of me.

Carter took just a minute more before raising his head and putting on a smile, wiping away the evidence of his sadness. It was time for him to put on a confident facade and show the world that the Sun Stones were graceful even in defeat.

“All right, we can do this,” he said, standing up and putting his hand on my head. “Thanks for that, kiddo,” he said with an earnest smile, the kind that was reserved for me.

“You know I’ll always be there for you, just like you are for me,” I told him, wiping the tears from my face.

“You better believe it.”

“I love you, Bubba,” I told him, managing a weak smile.

“Love you too,” he said, pulling me up and into a full-body hug, letting me know everything was going to be all right.

“Do I get a hug?” Ricky asked me after Carter released me.

“Touch her and die,” my brother quickly said. I would have laughed if I wasn’t pretty sure he was telling the truth.

“Why do you always threaten me? You know I was just kidding. She’s like a sister to me,” Ricky quickly defended, putting his hands up in surrender.

“You know she’s not something to joke about. No one touches my baby sister,” Carter replied.

I loved my brother, but he was way too overprotective.

“Come on, Bubba, what if I find a guy I really like? You can’t keep all guys away from me forever,” I said, once again my thoughts drifting to earlier.

“I sure can. You aren’t allowed to date guys, and anyone who even looks at you will have to face my wrath.”

“That’s not fair, I’m seventeen, not seven. I start college next year!” I whined.

“Which is precisely why you can’t date. I know what guys your age are like, and you deserve better than that. Remember, I was your age five years ago.”

“Sorry kiddo, but he’s right. Eighteen-year-old guys only want one thing,” Ricky agreed.

“You guys dated tons of girls, still do. So you only want one thing also?” I questioned, not wanting an answer, just making a point.

“We aren’t talking about us, we are talking about you,” Carter replied.

“Great, I’m gonna die a virgin,” I mumbled.

“I heard that, and yes, you are,” he replied.

I just rolled my eyes. The only good thing about this conversation was that it got their mind off of the loss.

Luckily I didn’t have to change the topic away from my dating life, or lack thereof, since their manager walked in and told them it was time to head back to the arena. Carter offered me one last smile before walking out with his teammates to go to the awards ceremony.

I went back to my spot in the audience, ready to watch the ceremony. When Carter’s team was called to receive their second place, I cheered louder than anyone in the arena. Even getting second, I was so proud of him.

The last team to take the podium was the first place team. I couldn’t help but glance at them, noticing Neptune standing proudly next to his teammates. He was definitely attractive, but he seemed to know it. He was not the type of person Carter would approve of me dating, not that he would approve of anyone.

***

It had been two weeks since the tournament, and coming in second hadn’t really changed much in my brother’s life. Carter and his team still had sponsors and were still competing online and practicing most of the time.

I guessed first or second didn’t make that much of a difference overall. They were still insanely popular, but just had to share the limelight now.

“Hey, Abs, wanna play with me?” Carter asked as I walked in from school, my parents still not home from work.

“I thought you were at an event today?” I questioned. I hadn’t seen him all week, since he was so busy shooting commercials and practicing.

“We got done early, plus I missed hanging out with you.”

“Aw, I missed you too. Unfortunately, I can’t play though, I have homework to do,” I replied.

“Come on, just for a little bit?” he begged.

“Homework,” I said, pointing to my bag over my shoulder.

“You’re super smart, I know it won’t take you all night. Play with me for just a little while. Please,” he begged.

“Oh, okay, fine. I’ll play for an hour, then I really have to do my schoolwork,” I conceded.

“Yes!” he cheered, making me laugh.

I dropped my bag on the floor in the hall and sat on the couch next to him. He grabbed the spare controller from the coffee table and threw it to me, like he had done thousands of times before. I was nowhere near as good as him at video games and would never be a professional, but I’d been playing with him my entire life, so I was decent.

Gaming together was kind of our special thing. It was how we bonded. I’d never admit it, but I really loved playing games with him.

One of my oldest memories was sitting in his lap on the floor as he helped me play some fighting game. I must have only been three or four years old. I remember picking a cartoonish girl with twin buns on her head. I liked her because she used pretty fans to attack people.

“What are we playing?” I asked curiously. Sometimes we would play Strike from Above together, but he never played that on a console, so I knew it wasn’t the game we would be playing today.

He looked over and gave me an evil grin before booting up a basketball game.

“Oh, come on!” I complained. “You know I hate sports games.”

“That’s just because you suck at them,” he teased.

“Hey!” I yelled, throwing a decorative pillow at him.

Ignoring my pillow attack, he skipped the loading screen, and we both picked our teams. He started out by getting the ball and using some combo to dribble between his legs, away from my defender, and scored a basket. Twenty seconds into the game and I was already losing.

It was now my turn to get the ball, and I decided to show off my skills. Two could play that game. I used a different combo to toss the ball behind my back to an open player, who then nailed a three-pointer.

“Yes! Take that!” I cheered, since that meant I was ahead of him.

We went back and forth like that through most of the game, each showing off whatever combos we thought the other might not know. It was so much fun playing with him, even though I don’t like that type of game.

Despite what Carter said about me sucking, I only ended up losing by three points. Not bad, considering he was a professional gamer and I was, well, just me.

Looking over at the clock, I saw that it was almost six ,and I still had a ton of work to do. I guessed our fun had to end.

“All right, Bubba, I really need to go do my homework now,” I told him, as I got up to head to my room.

“Abs, check this out before you go,” Carter said, handing me his phone where he’d been checking his social media accounts.

“Since when do you follow the Romans?” I asked.

“Gotta keep tabs on the competition, but look at their latest post.”

It was a post from Neptune on their official social media account.

“Looking for the mystery girl I ran into at the tournament. Our meeting was brief but our connection was deep. Mystery girl, if you see this and felt the connection too, send me a dm,” I read out loud.

Carter let out a loud snort. “What a player. That’s exactly the kind of guy you should avoid.”

For some reason, those words hurt more than they should have. I definitely couldn’t tell him the mystery girl was me.

I followed Annie into the living room, where the rest of our family had already gathered, waiting for us. I draped my arm over her shoulders as she paused just inside the door. I knew she was waiting to be reamed out for running away into the woods as soon as school let her out. She knew that today was an important day. Osprey would be informing us of who was going to the Rocky Mountain sleuth to smooth out the recent conflict developing there between the wolves and the bears. As our parents had made themselves one of the strongest mate pairs anywhere in the states, we were called on for most of the conflict resolution that was needed. Annie, who was already upset because she was not 18 yet and was excluded from traveling to other sleuths, hadn’t cared about this meeting in the slightest.

“Sorry guys,” I said, “Annie was napping and lost track of time.”

We both knew that nobody believed me, but out of respect for my father, nobody would lecture Annie in front of the entire family. I got her seated in the chair directly across from our mother. As my favorite sibling, little Annie would always have my protection. Everybody knew it and never questioned it. We both knew that we would each receive a private lecture later, once we were in our own rooms. She gave me a small smile, thanking me for coming to her rescue.

“May I start now?” Osprey asked, obviously annoyed by our tardiness.

I put my hands on her shoulders and defiantly met his eyes. “Yes, you may.”

“As everyone is aware, the Rocky Mountain sleuth has been at war with the Lower Hills pack for some time now. We have received reports that neither side has had any fatalities as of yet, but we have been asked to step in before any have the opportunity to occur. As we all know, Hannah, Latoya, and Annie are not in the running to go.” He turned to me with a hardness in his eyes. “Since you just turned 18, you are going. The more packs and sleuths you visit, the higher your chances of finding your mate. Priscila is 17 and can accompany you. She can start looking for her mate as well.” He paused for a moment to look around at all the adults present in the room. “The two of you will need a chaperone. Do we have any volunteers?”

Elena groaned when none of our parents offered to accompany us. “I will go. Are you going to be able to handle life without me for a week?”

He rolled his eyes. “I’ll be fine. Beanie, are you going with her?”

“Always,” Beanie replied.

“Alright. So it is settled, and the four of you will be going. You will leave first thing in the morning. Go pack.”

Annie jumped up to rush out of the room before she got yelled at for disobeying his orders. Sometimes, Osprey took his Alpha training just a little too seriously.

“ANNIE!” 

His roar shook the room, making all of our other siblings scramble even faster out of the room while Annie froze in place.

“Y-yes, Osprey?”

“Where were you?”

I stepped in front of her. “Asleep in a tree, like I said.”

He narrowed his eyes on me. “Nice try, Gerald! Annie is an Alpha. Even if she never officially becomes one, she still needs to act as though she is one. An Alpha never puts their own desires before the responsibilities of their sleuth or pack. Now, I am going to ask again: Where were you, Annie?”

She sighed from behind me as she moved around me to my side. “I was running in the woods with Silver Junior, if you really need to fucking know!” She snapped.

Osprey bared his teeth at her. “What is your problem lately, Annie?”

She angrily jammed her hands into her pants pockets. “Why do you even care anyway, Osprey?” She asked, removing her hands from her pockets again. “You have everything that you could ever want.” She held her hand up and began to put her fingers down as she listed everything she believed was not just. “You have Scarlett. You have the sleuth. You have your best friend as your Beta. You have a house. You have the power. You have money. What is left for the rest of us? You abuse your power! You were able to go out and explore other packs and sleuths with our dads before you turned 18. This is not fair!”

“Annie! Stop it! Things are different now. Back then, we didn’t have a war raging on our doorstep. We didn’t have people willing to risk their lives to cross our borders to kidnap our Alphas’ children as a way to make them vulnerable and bend to their demands. We didn’t have to worry about whether or not we would see our family alive again or if they would have been killed or worse! I’m sorry, Annie. This might not seem fair to you, but it is the way it is! I refuse to send the three of you out at such young ages. What would happen if you went into heat while out there? Priscila has already gone into heat. She’s not due for another 3 months. Who’s going to protect you if you go into heat? Have you even thought any of this through? So many things could go wrong!”

She threw her hands up in utter frustration. “You are so… UGH!”

She pushed past him on her way out of the room. When he turned on his heels with the intent to go after her, our mother put her hand on his arm to stop him.

“Let her calm down first, son. Then you can go and talk to her.”

He sighed as he turned back to me. “You know her the best. What do you think I should do?”

I shrugged. “Let her go.”

“I can’t do that, Gerald.”

“Yes, Osprey, you can. If you trust me to handle that sleuth’s problems, trust me enough to protect our little sister.”

He narrowed his eyes on me again, and I could see the slight hazy look in his eyes, indicating that he was mind-linking with somebody. If I had any money, I would bet every last penny that he was linking with Scarlett. She was, after all, his emotion in his logic. Finally, he sighed, pressing his fingers into his eyes.

“Fine! I will allow her to go. But I swear, if anything happens to her, it’s your ass that will be on the line for it.”

I nodded. “Understood, Osprey.” I rubbed my hands together. “Now, who’s going to be the one to tell her?”

Osprey groaned. “The better question is: Who’s telling Priscila that she’s no longer going?”

Elena burst out laughing. “Oh, that is indeed the question. My vote is that Osprey tells Priscila. I want to see her beat his ass.”

Osprey rolled his eyes as he stomped out of the room. “Tell me again why I made you my Beta female?”

Elena skipped out of the room after him. “Because I’m your favorite!”

“Yeah, and I’m also your favorite to throw under the bus every single chance you get.”

I chuckled as I took the stairs two at a time on my way up to Annie’s room. I knocked before entering the room. Annie looked at me from her bed before sitting up, still sniffling a little.

“I just want to go with you. It’s not fair! I should get to meet your mate first.”

I walked across the room to sit beside her on the bed, taking her hand in mine. “Well, if you tell me you love me, I’ll tell you what I did.”

She raised her head. “I love you so much, Gerry. You’re the best brother anyone could ever have asked for, and there isn’t a better boar than you in the entire world! Will you tell me now?”

I chuckled. “Osprey agreed to let you go with me to the Rocky Mountain sleuth.”

She squealed as she threw her arms around my neck. “OH MY GODDESS! DID YOU REALLY GET HIM TO AGREE?!”

I patted her back. “I did. It gets better.”

“It does? How?”

I pulled back to smile at her. “Osprey has to tell Priscila that she won’t be going anymore.”

She clapped her hands. “Can we please go watch? She’s going to hurt him!”

“I know. If you’re quiet, we could go and have a peak.”

She skipped to the door before looking over her shoulder at me. “Are you coming?”

I chuckled as I shook my head. She tried so hard to not be like Elena and Priscila, but she loved to watch them make Osprey sweat. The only two beings on this earth that he was afraid of. Elena and Priscila. We hurried down the hallway as the screaming started.

“YOU SAID I COULD GO! I WANT TO GO! YOU CAN’T DO THIS, OSPREY! IT’S MY TURN!”

She threw a lamp at him, and it shattered against the wall as he ducked to keep it from hitting him. Annie giggled when Elena pulled out a bag of skittles before popping a few into her mouth. She glanced at us, winking as Priscila threw another object at him. Annie leaned toward the door, eagerly taking in the scene.

“SCILA, STOP! LET ME EXPLAIN!”

“NO!! I WANT TO GO! IT’S MY TURN, OSPREY! I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR SO LONG TO GO! HOW IS THIS FAIR?”

Scarlett’s and my mother’s scent drifted down the hallway toward us, making Annie hide behind me, gripping my shirt. My mother shook her head, smiling at us as they walked by.

“Enough, you two!”

Priscila fell silent immediately and stopped throwing things at Osprey, who had backed into a corner with his arms in front of his face. Scarlett went over to Priscila, took her hands in hers, and said, “Listen to me, Priscila. Your mother and I were able to have a quick discussion in the living room. We have agreed that you will still go on this trip, but you will go to the pack instead of the sleuth. Gerald and Annie will handle the sleuth, and you and Hannah will handle the pack. Elena and Beanie will accompany Gerald and Annie, while Adam and Mona will be going with you and Hannah.”

She glanced at Osprey. “I’m still going?”

“Yes.”

She stuck her tongue at Osprey. “Can’t you and dads stay Alphas forever? At least until I find my mate?” Priscila asked.

Our mother shook her head. “Sorry, Princess, you know that’s not how this works.”

“I know,” she said sadly, before pointing at her door. “Get out, Osprey.”

He rushed out of the room, stopping when he saw us.

“Are you happy?” He growled.

Annie peeked out from around me. “Very. You deserved that!”

He rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

After he disappeared around the corner, I turned to Annie, grinning. “He’s going to get you back.”

“I know,” she giggled as she slid her arm through mine to lead me back down the hallway toward our rooms. “And I will spend my time finding a way to get him back. It’s all part of being siblings.”

I patted her hand as we approached her room’s door. “That it is, Annie Banannie. That it is.”

On the way to the celebration for my solo design exhibition, my husband, Harrison, received a call.

A woman's voice filled the car, piped through the Bluetooth system.

"I'm back. And I'm ready to take what's mine."

Harrison didn't respond. His jaw clenched as he wordlessly stabbed the end-call button.

I took it as a clear rejection.

Until late that night, when his lawyer delivered the divorce papers.

Staring into the impenetrable depths of his gray eyes, I calmly signed my name. "Do I need to move out tonight?" I asked.

He must have expected arguments or hysterics, because a rare flicker of surprise crossed his cold, ascetic face.

His Adam's apple bobbed. "No need," he said, his voice low. "This Manhattan penthouse will be transferred to your name tomorrow."

I offered him a brittle smile and nodded.

Harrison didn't know that for a man with his intense need for control, me walking away with his money—calmly and without a single tear—was the ultimate act of war.

————————

1

I glanced at Harrison’s chiseled profile. "It's late," I said softly. "You should get some rest. Don't you have a board meeting tomorrow? I'll take the guest room."

With that, I stood to leave.

As I passed him, he shot out a hand, his grip like an iron clamp on my wrist. The heat from his palm sent a jolt through my skin.

His brow was furrowed, his thin lips pressed into a hard line, as if he were wrestling with confusion, or perhaps suppressing a violent rage.

He demanded, "Avery, why aren't you fighting me on this?"

"And if I did? Would you call off the divorce? Or does the great CEO of the Hawthorne Group get off on watching women grovel at his feet?"

Harrison stiffened, his deep gray eyes boring into me. Finally, he said in a low voice, "I'm sorry. I'll compensate you."

I turned my head just enough to reveal the tell-tale redness in my eyes. "Okay," I whispered. "I believe you."

The living room lights stayed on all night.

The next day, when we went to the courthouse to formalize the divorce, the compensation section of the agreement had several new pages.

After the paperwork was finalized, Harrison took my hand—a first for him. His gaze dropped to my stomach. "Let's have a meal together," he said.

In the past, I would have been ecstatic.

It was so unlike him. Harrison, always so cold and detached, never initiated anything.

But now, I took a half-step back, smoothly withdrawing my hand. I looked down. "Mr. Hawthorne, that wouldn't be appropriate."

Harrison's frown deepened, clearly unaccustomed to the sudden distance between us.

"Avery," he said, a hint of irritation in his voice as his long fingers loosened his expensive silk tie, "a divorce doesn't mean we're enemies. I can still provide for you."

I paused, not answering.

After all, three years ago, he had told me I wasn't even worthy of breathing the same air as him.

Taking my silence as consent, Harrison opened the car door for me himself.

He had never done that for me before.

I lowered my eyes. "The morning sickness is awful. I can't stomach the smell of truffles and oysters at the kind of French restaurants you favor."

Harrison froze, as if the reality of my pregnancy had only just struck him. "I'm sorry," he repeated, his voice strained.

I nodded politely. "Then I won't trouble you, Mr. Hawthorne. I should be going."

Harrison's lips thinned into a hard line, his tall frame rigid with a palpable anger.

But his gaze caught the lingering puffiness around my eyes, and he visibly forced himself to rein it in.

"Get in the car. I'll take you home."

This time, I didn't refuse. A strategic retreat is one thing; making a spectacle of it is another.

Throughout the drive, Harrison seemed to be wrestling with his words, his silence filling the car with a tension so thick it felt hard to breathe.

I knew what he wanted to say.

So I spoke first. "I'll raise this child on my own. When he's born, his last name will be Clark. He won't ever get in the way of you and your... reunion."

I thought my words were considerate, but Harrison's reaction was explosive.

He slammed on the brakes, the tires screeching against the asphalt.

His face was grim, his dark eyes flashing with a fury I had never seen before.

"Avery Clark," he seethed, "are you that desperate to erase me from our child's life?"

I was stunned for a moment.

Harrison was an iceberg, always composed, rarely showing emotion.

He had never lost control, except in the heat of passion, when his hands would grip my hips, his body moving tirelessly, possessively against mine.

This was the first time I had ever seen this raw, untethered rage.

I didn't argue. I curled my fingers, twisting the hem of my shirt. "This child can't be born into a media frenzy over a Hawthorne scandal," I retorted. "If you can't give him a whole family, don't pretend to be some doting father."

After all, everyone on Wall Street knew the two things Harrison Hawthorne despised most were scandals and illegitimate children.

...

In our circle, it was an unwritten rule: no matter how many lovers a man kept on the side, he maintained a public facade of respect for his wife. Airing your dirty laundry weakened the family, so you put on a united front, no matter the cost.

Except for Harrison's father.

Old Mr. Hawthorne was the first to parade his mistress and illegitimate son through the front door.

Not long after, Harrison's mother jumped from the top of a skyscraper.

From a young age, Harrison was tormented by his stepmother and bullied by that illegitimate brother.

Everyone thought he was broken beyond repair.

Instead, he quietly endured, secretly gathering evidence. On his eighteenth birthday, he turned the files over to the FBI and personally sent his own father to prison.

Then, with the help of his maternal grandfather, he seized control of the entire Hawthorne Group.

By twenty, his position in the family was unshakeable.

At twenty-one, the illegitimate brother who had made his childhood a living hell was lost at sea, his body never recovered.

From then on, everyone understood his boundaries.

And now, Harrison's face was a grim mask. "Avery, have the baby," he said, his voice tight with suppressed emotion. "I will use every resource I have to keep you both safe."

I didn't answer.

Because in that instant, his gaze shifted past me, out the car window, and fixed on someone.

I followed his line of sight.

After my whole family secretly let my half sister from my father's affair live with my husband, a high-ranking Army officer, I didn't cry or make a scene. I took my suitcase and left for South Sudan alone to join a peacekeeping medical team.

I changed my contact information and cut every tie to Capital Region Command.

In a place where life and death were part of every day, the anger and resentment I had carried slowly faded.

I found love again and had a child, and I thought I would never see the people who had betrayed me again.

Then one day, while I was shopping for my daughter's birthday cake, I ran into my brother and my ex-husband.

One had become a highly decorated senior officer in Capital Region Command; the other, a powerful senior Army officer.

The moment our eyes met, none of us spoke for a long time.

Finally, my brother asked, his voice rough, "I thought you didn't like sweets."

I smiled and scooped up the little girl beside me. "My daughter loves them."

The cake suddenly dropped from Graham Mercer's hands and crashed to the floor.

His eyes were red, and his voice broke. "Mara, didn't you say you'd only ever have children with me?"

Back then, Graham and I had been married for seven years, and we had spent six of them living apart.

I'd been banking my leave days so I could make the trip home. When I finally did, I found that the keypad code on our front door had been changed.

I was about to call Graham when my father texted first.

Dad: [Graham's here having a drink with me. Go walk around the mall for a while.]

Then my phone pinged with a money transfer from my brother and a note.

My brother: [Buy whatever catches your eye. It's on me. Graham's drunk, so there's no need to rush home.]

Even my best friend sent me a voice message.

My best friend: [Your husband weighs a ton. Mine almost collapsed carrying him to bed.]

My mind went blank.

They had no idea that five minutes earlier, the guard at the gate had told me Colonel Mercer had just come home.

***

I didn't ask any more questions. Instead, I used a lock-picking trick I'd recently learned in the Army and let myself in.

When I pushed it open, Tessa Whitaker, dressed in pajamas, looked straight at me.

The moment our eyes met, I went cold all over.

She was my half sister from my father's affair—the one who had driven my mother to her death.

My father and brother had once been desperate to see her court-martialed, and my best friend had nearly shot her with her service weapon.

Now she sat in the house Graham and I had bought when we got married, looking healthy and comfortable in her pajamas.

A familiar man's voice called from inside, "Is that Dad and everyone?"

My stomach dropped.

A second later, Graham walked out of the kitchen wearing an apron.

He froze the moment he saw me, shock flashing in his eyes.

"Mara, you... how did you get in?"

I didn't answer. My gaze landed on a Maine Coon sleeping soundly in the corner.

That cat was the only thing my mother had left me. Graham had told me it had gotten sick and died.

All this time, the woman who had caused my mother's death had been the one taking care of it.

Graham immediately pulled off the apron and reached for my hand.

"Mara, let me explain. She had nowhere else to go, so I let her stay here..."

I looked around.

There were two pairs of slippers by the door, two toothbrushes by the sink, and matching travel mugs. Even their pajamas were the same style in different colors.

I hadn't even taken another step inside, yet everywhere I looked was proof that they'd been living there as a couple.

Just then, I heard someone at the door.

My father walked in carrying Tessa's favorite barbecue ribs, my brother was holding a bouquet of flowers, and my best friend had a giant teddy bear in her arms.

Every smile vanished the moment they saw me.

"Mara..."

The living room went dead silent.

A hollow laugh escaped me. "So this is what all the lying was for—so you could cover for my half sister from my father's affair?"

My phone was still full of the messages they had just sent me.

Dad: [Stay home with me tomorrow. I'll make a whole spread of your favorites!]

My best friend: [I feel like going shopping. Come with me the day after tomorrow.]

My brother: [Mara, come to a concert with me sometime in the next couple of days. My treat!]

At the Army hospital where I was stationed, I was only approved for five days of leave to go home each year. I had raced back to this city to see Graham, unwilling to waste a single minute.

But every time I came back, they filled my days with meals, walks around base housing, and shows on post, doting on me like I was the most precious person in the world.

I thought they simply missed me that much.

In reality, they were only keeping me busy so Graham and Tessa could have the house to themselves.

Tessa burst into tears and hurried toward me.

"Mara, they only did all this behind your back because they felt sorry for me. I had no one else."

"Please don't blame them..."

I had once believed they hated Tessa every bit as much as I did.

Now I finally understood.

I had been the one they shut out all along.

The tears finally came.

I swiped them away and looked at Graham, who stood there at a loss.

"Graham, let's get a divorce."

In a locked room at the Turner estate, Larissa woke up in pain.

She held her head and looked around. Everything was dark.

She had been reborn. She was back to the very day Julia Turner framed her and accused her of pushing her into the water.

In her past life, just to gain even a shred of love from the Turners, Larissa endured being framed by them as the one who started the fire and was sent away to Ravenmind Island overseas for five years.

She'd later escaped on her own and come back. Even then, she still longed for their love.

She thought the Turners agreed to take her back because they had learned the truth about the fire. She thought they finally knew she was innocent. She believed they wanted to make up for the pain she'd suffered, to care for her, and to love her.

But that had all been nothing but her wishful thinking.

To the Turners, she was always just a tool.

Julia had a rare illness, and Larissa's blood type happened to be a perfect match.

In her past life, Larissa was a fool. As long as the Turners showed her even a little kindness or treated her slightly better, she obeyed them without question and let them use her.

They felt no guilt at all. They treated her like a walking blood bank. By the time she turned 26, without caring about her health, they'd forced her to sign away her shares and agree to a kidney donation.

She'd died pinned to the operating table.

She was only 26 years old.

Until the moment she died, not a single person from the Turners came to see her.

She closed her eyes in despair. A tear slid down the corner of her eye.

She regretted everything. She should never have treated the Turners as her family.

She should never have hoped for even a trace of family love from them.

If she could go back to when she was five years old, she would never have left with Morris Turner.

That wasn't salvation. The Turners were the real hell.

All her suffering came from them.

If she were given one more chance to live, she wouldn't expect anything from the Turners.

In her past life, she gave everything but received not a single bit of real love. Her whole life had been a joke.

The person she hurt the most was herself.

This time, she only wanted to live for herself.

She never expected that fate would actually give her another chance.

She was reborn. She went back to when she was 17 years old, only six months after returning from Ravenmind Island to the Turners.

Julia was the Turners' most beloved biological daughter.

Julia had jumped into the water herself, yet she falsely accused Larissa of shoving her in.

Julia was rushed to the hospital, while her father, Morris Turner, slapped Larissa hard across the face and then locked her in a dark, locked room.

She was truly unlucky. She had just gotten home from work that day when Julia pulled her aside to talk.

She hadn't even had a single bite to eat before being locked in this place.

Twelve hours had already passed. The room was completely dark. No one even brought her a sip of water.

In her past life, she had already paid the Turners with her life. In this life, she owed them nothing.

She only wanted to live for herself.

The door suddenly opened, and the sound of servants cursing came in.

"I've never seen someone so cruel. Forget being grateful for the Turners raising her. She even pushed their biological daughter into the water. What a heartless, ungrateful brat."

"I never would've thought someone so young could be this ruthless. Back then, she tried to burn Ms. Turner to death and was sent overseas for five years. Now she even pushed Ms. Turner into the water. A person this evil deserves to be starved to death."

"Exactly. Someone so evil should be starved. Julia is so kind—how could she hurt her? I heard that even while she was unconscious, she kept saying it wasn't anyone else's fault and begged them not to hurt her."

"The Turners' real daughter is gentle and kind. The fake daughter is cruel and wicked. Fake is fake—she'll never be worthy."

"If I were Mr. Turner, after hurting my daughter like this, I would've kicked the fake daughter out long ago. She's already this cruel at such a young age. She's done arson and attempted murder. What wouldn't she dare do when she grows up?"

"Haven't you heard? That fake daughter was shipped off to Ravenmind Island for arson. That place is known as a lawless zone, full of violence, blood, and darkness.

"I can't believe she survived there for five years.

"Anyone who makes it out alive is either a cold-blooded killer or a complete lunatic.

"And yet the master still dared to keep her in the Turner house. If it were me, I would have thrown her out long ago."

"That's enough. Take her out. Mr. Turner and Ms. Turner should be back from the hospital by now."

...

The door was pushed open from the outside. A beam of light shone inside.

Larissa looked toward the light.

At that moment, she finally felt it clearly. She had been reborn.

Ignoring the servants' looks of disgust, Larissa was taken to the living room.

She had not eaten anything all day. She was dizzy from hunger, her whole body weak.

Sitting on the sofa were Morris Turner, Priscilla Bowden, Julia, the eldest son Jettson Turner, and the second son, Harlan Turner. The entire family was there, staring at her as if she were an enemy, like trash.

Julia slumped weakly against Priscilla's chest and whispered, "Larissa, why did you push me? What did I do wrong for you to hate me so much?

"It's already been five years. Do you still want to kill me?

"Five years ago, you were jealous that I came back to this family and took away Dad and brothers' love, so you tried to burn me to death.

"Five years have passed. You failed to burn me to death, so now you want to drown me instead?

"Mom, Dad, Jettson, Harlan, I'm so scared."

When Morris saw that Larissa didn't greet them and did not admit her mistake, he became furious and shouted, "Larissa, even though you are not my biological daughter, I raised you as my own.

"Now that you've done something wrong—pushing Julia into the water and trying to drown her—how dare you not apologize to her?"

Larissa glanced down at herself. She was wearing a white shirt that had been washed until it faded and a pair of old jeans. She let out a cold laugh.

"I didn't do it. I did nothing wrong. I didn't push her. She jumped into the water on purpose to frame me. I won't apologize.

"Mr. Turner, did you really treat me like your own daughter?

"If you did, you wouldn't have thrown me into Ravenmind Hospital when I was only 12 and ignored me completely.

"For the past five years, I waited every single day for you to bring me home.

"I waited for five whole years.

"Would you leave your real daughter in a place like that and not care about her for five years?"

Morris never expected Larissa—who had always obeyed him, obedient and well-behaved—to talk back like this. His anger exploded.

The Turners might not be the richest family in Marcrest, but they still had power and influence.

As the head of the family, no one had dared to challenge him for a long time.

Maybe her words hit the truth. Or maybe he was angry and embarrassed. Morris walked up to Larissa and kicked her hard, forcing her down onto her knees.

His voice was cold with fury. "You refuse to admit your mistake and still talk back. If I don't teach you a lesson, you'll never learn!

"Looks like five years on that island didn't make you behave.

"Those six months of good behavior were all just an act."

Larissa's original name had been Larissa Turner. But when she was ten, Julia was brought back to the Turners. Julia disliked her name and didn't want her to use the surname Turner. So her name was changed to simply Larissa.

Larissa's eyes turned red as she looked at Morris.

When she was five years old, it was Morris who took her from the orphanage and brought her into the Turners. She thought that from that day on, she finally had a father and a home.

But once his biological daughter, Julia, appeared, everything changed.

Everything she had before was nothing more than an illusion, like it was never truly hers.

The air was thick with a nauseating stench—a sharp, revolting cocktail of decaying filth that made every breath a struggle.

Elizabeth Schofield was fuming.

As a veteran Spiritual Botanist who ruled the cultivation world through farming—ahem, cultivating—she had been a VIP to every major sect, yet here she was, stuck in this mess.

Who wouldn't be fuming? One second, she was admiring a freshly harvested Divine Essence Root in her spiritual field; the next, she was trapped against a literal mountain of garbage, held down by a leering, deranged maniac with the worst of intentions.

"Hahaha! As expected of a high-born lady from a wealthy house! Look at this tender skin... It would be such a waste to let you die just yet. Let me just..." The man flashed a mouthful of yellowing teeth, closing in with a predatory sneer.

A wave of concentrated halitosis hit her full in the face, nearly sending the newly awakened Elizabeth straight back to the afterlife.

Damn it!

She might be a 'combat-weak' Spiritual Botanist, but that didn't mean any random trash could just step on her!

Her thoughts spun wildly, but her body reacted even faster.

Driven by pure instinct, the last trace of spiritual energy inside her surged into her fist, delivering a fatal blow straight toward his face!

Bang!

With a dull thud, the man who was gloating a second ago was sent flying like a tattered ragdoll.

He slammed down several feet away, clutching his chest and groaning in agony.

He's still breathing?

Elizabeth frowned, deeply displeased.

What happened to the sword aura that was supposed to kill even a Golden Core cultivator in one strike?

That was it? Seriously?

She instinctively raised her small fist, then froze at the sight of her bare fingers.

Where was the Golden Suncrow Ring on her pinky, the one housing three strands of Golden Suncrow sword aura—each one lethal enough to kill a Golden Core cultivator?

Where was the storage ring on her middle finger with half her life savings inside?

Ahh damn it! Whoever stole my things deserved to die!

Radiating pure killing intent, Elizabeth marched toward the man.

The man was scared out of his wits. Scrambling backward on all fours, he shrieked through a mess of tears and snot, "Ms. Elizabeth, spare me! Please, spare my life! It wasn't my fault! It was... it was the Madam! Madam Schofield made me do it!"

Ms. Elizabeth? Mrs. Schofield?

Elizabeth froze. It was as if two giant, physical question marks had just popped up over her head.

What kind of nonsense is this? Who's he even talking about?

She had no parents. She'd spent decades fighting her way through the cultivation world alone, relying on trickery—no, hard work and wisdom—to survive.

Wait. Where's my Divine Essence Root?

She clearly remembered reaching out to harvest it when Nine Heavens Divine Lightning thundered down.

That lightning could wipe out even top-level cultivators.

If it had truly locked onto her, how could she still be alive?

Not only alive, but seemingly unharmed?

Elizabeth checked herself. Aside from a body so fragile it looked like it would crumble in a light breeze, and the familiar long-sleeved clothes she wore, everything seemed intact.

So what exactly was going on?

Before she could think it through, a flood of unfamiliar memories slammed into her mind, leaving her dizzy and unsteady.

An interstellar world ... Federation Sector ... the prestigious Schofields ... a biased father ... a vicious stepmother ... a fake, two-faced half-sister ... a stolen fiancé...

Elizabeth was stunned.

She might—possibly—have transmigrated again.

Why "again"?

Because in the beginning, she'd just been an ordinary college student in the 21st century. One accident sent her into the cultivation world.

Now, a lightning tribulation had flung her straight from the cultivation world into this interstellar world.

Should she feel lucky ... or extra lucky?

After all, she had lived two more lives than most people.

From the memories, the original body owner was also named Elizabeth. She was the eldest daughter of the Schofields, one of the Five Great Families of the Interstellar Kingdom. Her life should've been full of luxury.

Instead, with her biological mother gone too soon, a scumbag father who didn't care, a scheming stepmother, and a half-sister who framed her at every turn, she had been turned into the laughingstock of high society.

Even her childhood fiancé had been snatched away by her half-sister, who then had the nerve to demand an end to their engagement.

Refusing to let go, the original Elizabeth had been goaded by a toxic best friend into the ultimate stupidity, drugging her fiancé to force a done deal. She was caught red-handed.

Because of his military status, she was sentenced to 100 years of exile on a Garbage Planet.

In the interstellar era, most people only lived about 150 years.

As for the scene before her? It was obviously her stepmother's little insurance policy, just to make sure she didn't survive the trip.

After digesting these memories, Elizabeth's first instinct was to scramble for her Storage Pouch, Pendant, and Bracelet.

She turned herself inside out, but found nothing. Aside from an ugly wristband, she possessed absolutely nothing.

Elizabeth froze.

All the spiritual stones she had painstakingly saved over decades were gone.

All the precious natural treasures she had hoarded were gone.

Her entire fortune was gone. Every single bit of it!

In that instant, it felt as if a tangible black aura labeled "poverty" started puffing out from the top of her head.

The joy of surviving rebirth was crushed by this disastrous beginning. All that was left was grief and an overwhelming urge to curse.

While she was still hurting over her losses, the man on his knees thought he had a chance. He jumped up and tried to crawl away.

Just before he escaped her sight, Elizabeth didn't even look up. She picked up a sharp stone and flicked it forward.

"Zip—Thwack!"

The stone pierced straight through his back and into his heart.

He stumbled forward, collapsed, and went completely still.

That strike made her feel slightly better. At least her spiritual root was still there.

Still, her cultivation had dropped from Golden Core all the way down to Early Essence Refinement.

Worse, the air here was filthy and almost completely devoid of spiritual energy. The bit of motivation she had just built up instantly deflated.

Whatever. Being alive was better than being dead.

When she initially entered the cultivation world, she started as a slave with no freedom. She still climbed her way up.

With the memories and mastery of a divine-tier Spiritual Botanist, there was no way she'd starve to death in a literal dump like this.

A Garbage Planet meant endless waste and, more importantly, boundless unclaimed land. She could farm on her own terms—completely rent-free.

As for the environment being harsh and unsuitable for farming?

She was a spiritual botanist. What was there to fear?

She decided then and there to look on the bright side.

Having successfully pumped herself up, Elizabeth immediately flicked open the holographic display on her wristband, eager to see just how much of a fortune the original owner had left behind.

After all, she came from a rich family. Even if the stepmother was cruel, that useless father was still her biological parent.

His daughter had been exiled. Surely he'd drop some credits in her account to keep up the act of being a father, right?

Chapter 2 A Stone With Spiritual Energy

An interstellar device was essentially a fusion of a smartphone and a computer from the 21st century.

But in this highly advanced interstellar era, it could do much more.

Upon initialization, a pale blue holographic screen flickered into existence, hovering right before Elizabeth's eyes.

Name: Elizabeth Schofield

Gender: Female

Date of Birth: Stellar Calendar, September 12, 2005

Address: Sector A1, Planet A001

ID: 45567424243254

Her gaze lingered on the birthdate.

Seriously? What are the odds?

Today was September 12, Stellar Year 2025. The day that should have been the original Elizabeth's 20th birthday had become her day of passing.

Elizabeth offered a silent moment of mourning for the girl she'd never met, then continued scrolling.

“Win the heart of one of the four mates I gave you before your twenty fifth moon or your soul will be erased forever. That was our deal little hybrid. And yet…you failed”

“How pathetic, tell me was humiliation not exhausting?”

Her voice slid into my head the way it always did — warm, unbothered, like she was commenting on the weather rather than ending my life.

“And now you can no longer continue, your time is up.”

I stood outside the great hall of the castle stronghold, back pressed against cold stone, listening to the crowd roar inside.

Through the heavy oak doors came the sound of horns, of celebration, of Rose’s breathless laughter as Dorian — the Lycan King, the last of my four assigned males — sealed his vows to her with a kiss.

It had been twenty-five years!

I had spent twenty-five fʊcking years in this world miserably. Born into it as a wailing infant with no memories and a divine mission from the Moon Goddess stitched into my soul like a scar.

The deal was to make one man of the four she picked to love me. Just one to truly love me and I get to go home back to my world and live.

So I agreed. How hard could it be, I said.

Yet, I hadn’t managed a single one.

“Tough luck, little hybrid. It was really fun watching those petty attempts, mostly quite shameful and humiliating I must say,” the Moon Goddess said cheerfully, mocking me.

“I really thought Dorian was going to be your moment. The enemies-to-allies arc? The late night war councils? Very compelling, your seduction was topnotch. I was invested.”

“YOU!.. you were invested?,” I almost shouted but I had to control my tone. “How wonderful for you.”

“C’mon don’t be like that. I gave you good material to work with.”

“You gave me a brother who hἅtes me, a warlock who treated me like a lab specimen, a king who forgot I existed the moment his fated mate walked in, and an extremely cold Vampire who never once looked at my face yet every other lady was all over him.” I pushed off the wall. My legs felt like water.

“Phenomenal material. Truly.”

“Look at it from this angle, I made you a Hybrid, the only rare creature in this world with fast healing abilities… uhmm.. and the Vampire situation was genuinely tragic I’ll admit, it was unexpect—”

“You fʊcking made things worse…whatever I don’t care again, what happens now?” I cut her off. My voice came out steadier than I felt. “You said if I failed, I had to end it myself. Is that still the arrangement?”

A pause took over. Suspiciously long for a goddess who always had something to say.

“…Yes. Those were the terms.”

“Fine. I’ll commit suicide if that’s what you want”

I said inside my head and walked away to a sacred place in the castle while everyone was preoccupied.

………….

The river road outside the stronghold walls was quiet at this hour. Everyone was inside celebrating.

The torches along the path burned low and orange, throwing long shadows across the cobblestones.

I knew this road with my eyes closed because I had walked it a thousand times over twenty-five years — running errands, delivering messages, making myself useful to people who never noticed. All the cold looks, all the cruel words. Every single one of them had turned on me because of Rose.

Rose was the heroine of this world.

The Moon Goddess told me not to blame myself at some point that I was just always usɛless and incapable of winning just one male lead heart. She said Rose was the female lead, so of course the male leads would be drawn to her.

Pathetic. Yes I now knew.

I found the old bridge at the edge of the Ashburn territory.

The river below ran fast and black in the dark and the cold breeze was something I enjoyed.

I climbed onto the railing without letting myself think much as I inhaled the air. I was holding in my hand a silver white oak stake, one I had stolen from the castle to k!ll myself as it was the only thing I could use to end my life all thanks to Claire, the Moon Goddess.

“You know,” the Moon Goddess said conversationally, “for someone who’s allegedly giving up you’re moving very efficiently.”

“Goodbye, thanks for the twenty five years of torment” I told her, wrapping my fingers around the stake as I directed the sharp edge at my heart.

“Yara—”

“I said goodbye.”

I looked up at the sky. The moon was full tonight. Bright and indifferent. Of course it was.

Just because I was born into this world as a supporting character — was I really doomed from the start?

I closed my eyes and stabbed my heart with full force but before it made contact a hand seized my wrist from making a move.

The grip was brutal — yanking me off the railing so hard I crashed sideways into a broad chest before being shoved back against the bridge wall. My shoulder blades hit stone and cracked, I immediately opened my eyes spitting out blo0d forcefully.

ARGHHH FʊCK!

“Next time listen to me, I was trying to warn you not to stop you from dying duh” Claire chipped in.

It was Tyson.

My brother in this world. Alpha of the Ashburn pack. One of the four men the Moon Goddess had assigned me. He was still in his wedding clothes. He must have left right after the ceremony.

He looked furious.

“What,” he said, “the hɛll do you think you’re doing?”

Yeah he was pissed.

I stared at him. Twenty-five years of memories hit me all at once — every cold look, every dismissal, every time I had made myself smaller so he could feel bigger. And underneath all of it, buried so deep I had almost forgotten it was there, the stup!d stubborn flicker of hope I had carried for him since I was old enough to understand what a family was supposed to feel like.

“What does it look like,” I spat back.

“It looks like you’re making a scene outside our family’s territory on my Alpha’s wedding night.”

His jaw was tight. “You want to commit suicide? Are you okay? Do you have any idea how that reflects on me?”

There it was.

I laughed. It came out wrong on normal occasion I would have hid it but fʊck it.

“Of course. That’s why you followed me. Not because you were worried. Because of how it looks.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

“I’m not.” I straightened up, brushing his hand off my wrist. “Go back inside, Tyson. This doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

He grabbed my ἅrm again before I could move and snatched the stake away from me. “You’re not dying on Ashburn land.”

“Then I’ll walk further, give me back the stake!.”

“Yara—”

“Let go of me.”

He didn’t. His grip tightened and something shifted in his expression — something that might have been real if I still had the energy to believe in real things. “Stop being dramatic. Rose’s wedding was always going to happen. You knew that.”

And there was the slap. Not with his hand he used words. He’d always been better with words.

I felt something go very quiet inside me.

“You’re right,” I said softly. “I knew still fʊck you.”

He must have heard something in my voice because his eyes narrowed. Then, like he couldn’t help himself, like twenty-five years of cruelty had just become a habit he couldn’t break even now — his free hand came up and caught me by the neck then he slammed me harder on the wall that I felt my bones crack especially my skull.

Blo0d trickled down my lips as I groaned, enduring the pain, then I smiled.

It was not a kind smile. He had definitely hit a nerve.

“You just hit me again,” I said, getting pissed, “Don’t make this worse, hand me the stake.” I turned to look at him deἅdly.

“No. Get out of my sight”

Something flickered behind his eyes but I wasn’t going to back down.

I saw my chance to snatch the white oak stake from him and stab myself in the heart.

And yes I did!

But sh!t something else happened and Tyson’s blo0d stained my clothes.

Walking down the street, Kyle maintained a calm front. But inside… he was devastated.

For a moment, he had believed that she would at least agree not to go with them—with Ethan—today, especially after he mentioned breaking up.

She kept saying that she was going through a situation, but no matter how many times he asked, she couldn't work it out. She couldn't tell him what that situation was.

There was a time when he didn't question her and allowed her some space. But everyone had a limit—there was only so much patience a person could have, only so much they could tolerate.

The unnatural closeness Amanda shared with Ethan was something not only Kyle but others had started talking about as well.

Kyle didn't give a fuck about what others said or thought, but he was expecting an explanation from Amanda, anything that could somehow save this relationship.

Yes, it sounded pathetic, but… she was his first love.

They had spent the past two years like a normal couple—no, more than that.

They were inseparable. They both knew what the other wanted before it was said out loud.

The consideration Amanda showed, the way she looked only at him, got jealous, acted like a baby in his arms, played with his hair… it all lived inside him like a beautiful memory. But now, it stung like an open wound.

"Haa…" Exhaling a long sigh, he stepped into his house.

The dark one-room flat he had rented near the university felt far too big and cold today.

He dropped his bag on the table beside the entrance and stared into the darkness for a few moments.

The first thing he did was strip off his clothes and step under the shower.

The splash of cold water snapped him out of the daze he had been trapped in.

He shook his head vigorously, as if trying to break the spell Amanda had left on him.

Whatever had happened was necessary—a chapter of his life he would never be able to forget.

However, life was all about moving forward.

Clink

Turning off the showerhead, he grabbed a towel and wiped his hair, then his body, before wrapping it around his waist.

There was no one else living here, so what was the point of wearing clothes? He usually slept in his underwear anyway.

As he stepped out, he looked at the state of his room.

Messy.

The bedsheet was wrinkled, books lay scattered, speakers were on the ground, and tissue papers were littered around.

Tissue papers he had used to wipe his nose.

Nose.

Shaking his head, he muttered, "Well, this isn't going to get better just by staring."

So he got to work—arranging the books, fixing the bed, dimming the lights, throwing the trash into the bin. Finally, he stopped at the holy corner of his room.

His PC.

The only expensive thing he had bought with his own money.

He had done freelancing and part-time jobs in the beginning, and thanks to that, he had managed to save enough money during his high school days to build this computer.

He had stopped playing most of his games because Amanda didn't like games at all. She found them time-consuming and useless.

Naturally, his focus had shifted almost entirely to her, and slowly, he stopped playing as well.

But six months ago, he had started something new.

Remember the T-shirt startup he had? He created a live streaming channel to advertise his brand.

The plan had more excitement than practicality.

Naturally, in a world where every second unemployed guy was starting a streaming channel, Kyle was nothing more than a bacteria-sized fish. No one noticed him or his company.

However, even after his company shut down, he didn't close his channel.

Why?

There were a few people who had grown attached to him—and Kyle had grown attached to them as well.

Initially, there were around fifty viewers. Then thirty. Then ten. Then five.

By that time, his company had already been dissolved. But since those five people never stopped waiting, commenting, and talking to him, he thought—why not?

He wasn't paying a single Nero to the streaming platform, and he had plenty of free time—especially after Amanda started ignoring him—so he spent that time talking to random strangers.

However, now… "I need to stop this."

He took a deep breath, his hands pressing against the table as his head hung low.

He had made several wrong decisions in his life, and they had led him to this point—unemployed, useless, and with no clear future.

He didn't know what he would do if his brother stopped sending money next month.

Things couldn't continue like this. He had to change.

There were no more distractions. No company to manage. No lover to pay attention to. Thankfully, his social life was perfectly aligned with a better future.

No friends. No wasted time.

So the only thing that could still take hours of his day was this… one last thing.

'Guess this will be the last time for me to go live.'

Little did he know how this decision was about to turn his world upside down.

...

The moment he toggled the live button, five members joined.

Like usual, Kyle was wearing a mask to hide most of his face, only his dark green eyes visible as he looked into the camera and said, "Hey, how have you all been?"

By this point, it felt more like a video conference rather than a live stream. Because for the past five months or so, it has just been these five people and Kyle.

His words were relayed to them, and soon, the live chat started showing up,

WarHorse: [Kyyyyyyle! Finally, you are here!]

Myuri: [Kyle! Ethara cursed me today!]

Ethara: [Wrong allegations. I never curse, Kyle knows.]

One-eyed: [Kyle, are you planning to stay for long today? Maybe seven hours?]

Tharos: [Kyle...I missed you.]

Despite how bad his day passed, seeing them bantering, texting him, trying to get his attention, and their craving for him to stay longer...it always puts a smile on his face.

He calmly responded to each one of them, "Hello, WarHorse. I hope you didn't fight with people this time and are pretending to be excited so that I don't suspect anything. And Ethara...Myuri wouldn't lie to me. One-eyed, sorry but I won't be able to stay for long. And Tharos...nice to see you in good health."

Although they said they are quite old and have met hundreds of people in their lives, for Kyle, they were like lost children who were handed responsibilities more than they could bear.

What started as a promotion of his company turned into a counseling stream where he talked with his viewers, listened to their problems, and tried to solve them. 

He has scolded them at times, too, when they confessed their mistakes or did something under the assumption of being right.

There have been a few times, some of them—especially One-eyed—to get frustrated by his blunt words and leave the stream. But sooner or later, everyone returned to him, accepting that he had been right.

Kyle didn't know whether it ran in his blood, but just like his uncle, he was quite a good counselor.

One-eyed: [Why is that? You don't have anything to do after uni, do you?]

Myuri: [That's right! And you said your partner isn't coming over to your place as well! So no distraction.]

Sharing personal information on a social media platform was not a good thing, but there were times he grew emotional as well and said more than needed.

Well, not like they know who he was to share the details with anyone. 

Leaning back in his seat, Kyle said, "Well, you are right. But I got a realisation today...I have been neglecting my duties as a student...wasting my time at things which aren't providing me any benefit."

WarHorse: [That's quite a bad thing to do! You should always invest your time in something pro-ah! Don't tell me...]

Ethara: [Kyle? What do you mean by those words?]

It was surprising that even WarHorse, who generally remains oblivious to these things, realized what he was implying.

It pained Kyle but he has to do it for the sake of his future.

"Yes, you guessed it right...I am thinking of stopping this..."

There was a brief silence before a message popped up,

Tharos: [Kyle...is abandoning me?]

Kyle's heart clenched, guilt arising in his chest. He really didn't want to stop contacting them...but whenever he goes online, he ends up staying there for several hours. 

"That's right, I need to focus on my studies for the sake of my future… so yes, I won't be coming online anymore."

The chat went silent.

Too silent.

The kind of silence that made Kyle stare at the screen, wondering if everyone had already logged out. He waited. A second passed. Then another. His cursor hovered, unsure.

Then the messages exploded.

WarHorse:

[This is madness!]

[Absolute madness!]

[You can't just say that and leave!]

Myuri:

[Kyyyyyyle!]

[I can't— I can't—]

[Don't go… please… waaaah!]

Ethara:

[Studies?]

[Is "studies" a person?]

[Where is my spear.]

Kyle blinked.

Tharos:

[Kyle… don't go…]

[Kyle…]

[Kyle...]

WarHorse:

[WHOEVER TAKES MY BROTHER FROM ME SHALL PERISH!]

[Raaaah!]

[I will wage war upon reality itself!]

Myuri:

[Hiiick…]

[Kyle I can't breathe…]

[Please tell me you are joking.]

[PLEASE.]

Ethara:

[Is someone threatening you to say that?]

[If yes, blink twice.]

[That person shall not live another day to see the rising sun.]

Myuri:

[KYYYYYYYYYLLLLLEEEE!!!]

Kyle rubbed his face, already regretting everything.

WarHorse:

[We fought together.]

[We bled together.]

[You stood behind my shield!]

[And now you abandon the battlefield for… books?!]

Ethara:

[Books do not bleed.]

[Books do not scream.]

[Books are suspicious.]

Myuri:

[Do you know how long I waited for you to log in every day?]

[I even saved emotes just for you!]

[I didn't use them on anyone else!]

[ANYONE!]

Tharos:

[The balance is breaking…]

[The threads are shaking…]

[My logs feel empty without your name.]

[Kyle…]

WarHorse:

[I refuse this fate!]

[I challenge it!]

[I challenge STUDIES!]

Ethara:

[Point me to the library.]

Myuri: [If you leave… who will listen to me rant at 3 a.m.?]

[Who will say "calm down" when I clearly cannot?!]

[Who?!]

Kyle was getting blinded by all the messages suddenly popping continuously on his screen, not allowing him to read even one of them.

Just then,

One-eyed: [All of you, stop.]

My husband and daughter told me there was another world beneath the abandoned swimming pool in our backyard.

They said they had a family there too.

On Thanksgiving, I spent the whole day preparing a full dinner spread. But my daughter didn't even glance back as she followed Grant into the pool.

"I'm going to spend the holiday with my real mom. She's nicer than you. She actually loves me."

Grant dug out the savings account statements, the deed to the house, every investment account under his name, and carried all of it down there.

"In the other world, everything doubles in value. What's the point of leaving it with you? You can't even get in."

Even on my birthday, the two of them pulled on their swimsuits and rushed toward the water.

"The other mom's birthday is today too. She's down there waiting for us to have a barbecue. Just order DoorDash or something."

After an accident left me unable to handle things on my own, I woke up to a house that felt completely empty.

I checked my account balance. Zero. I called Grant to ask about the medical bills. No answer.

A second later, he texted back:

[The other wife's in a bad mood. We're keeping her company. Take care of yourself. Don't bother us unless it's important.]

I stared at that message for a long time.

Our savings were gone. The house was empty. Even this marriage had been hollowed out a long time ago.

So I picked up the phone and called a pool draining company.

"I've got an abandoned swimming pool at my house. The water needs to be drained. Can you send someone out?"

---

I checked myself out of the hospital alone and stood at the front gate of my own yard.

I looked at the pool. The surface of the water reflected another world.

Grant was in there. My daughter was in there.

Another woman was waiting for them on the other side. My daughter called her Mom. Grant called her his wife. A happy family of three, picture-perfect.

They went to an amusement park together.

My daughter sat in the front row of a roller coaster, her hair whipping everywhere in the wind. She turned and buried herself into that woman's arms, gripping her with both hands, screaming:

"Mom, don't let go..."

The woman held her tight. Grant stood beside them, phone raised, snapping photos.

Watching that scene, I instantly remembered last month when I'd suggested we all go to an amusement park together.

My daughter had waved me off without a second thought. "Going with someone as old as you? Boring."

Grant had chimed right in. "Yeah, don't come and kill the vibe."

But now, there they were, having the time of their lives with another woman.

That evening, Grant and my daughter climbed out of the pool.

The smile hadn't fully faded from my daughter's face yet, but the moment she saw me, it vanished.

She tugged on Grant's sleeve, whining sweetly:

"Daddy, I want to stay with Mom a little longer."

That mom wasn't me.

They walked inside and found that I hadn't cooked dinner.

Grant's face darkened instantly. He turned to me.

"So you just sat around the house all day doing nothing? You didn't even cook?"

"I just got out of the hospital today," I said.

"And that means you can't cook?" He stared me down. "Everyone else manages just fine. Why do you have to be so dramatic about everything?"

My daughter stood off to the side, curling her lip.

"God, I can't stand being around her."

"The mom in the pool is sweet and pretty. She never tells me what I can or can't eat, never nags me about anything."

"You never let me do the things I enjoy. No candy, no snacks, no games. Do you have any idea how much of a buzzkill you are?"

I tried to explain. "That's because you're still young..."

"Okay, okay." She cut me off, flapping her hand. "Can we just stop arguing? You're exhausting."

"I wish I could stay down there every single day. Daddy, can we spend more time in there? We only need to come back to sleep."

Grant looked down at her and smiled, ruffling her hair.

I watched them shut me out, and I tried to push back.

"How have I not been good to you? The reason I don't let you eat that stuff is because your stomach has always been sensitive. You..."

My daughter cut me off immediately.

"Oh my God, you're unreal. So cringe. Come on, Dad, let's go. I don't want to be here. Let's eat out."

She grabbed Grant's arm and pulled him toward the door.

Grant stopped in front of me, paused for one step, and looked me up and down.

"Look at the way you dress. You haven't even made an effort to dress up in ages. Can you really blame the kid for saying what she says?"

"The person on the other side feels so different from the one I've been living with. Maybe try looking in the mirror and figuring out why."

He paused, then added:

"If I could stay down there forever, I wouldn't come back either."

Then he left with our daughter.

I stood there. Didn't move.

Watching their backs disappear, I thought about when we first got married.

Grant had just started his business back then. I went to the construction sites for him every day, and by the time I got home at night, there was sand in my hair.

He'd hold me and say, so gently: "Mia, trust me. I'm going to give you a better life."

And eventually, we really did move into a big house.

I thought about the first time my daughter called me Mama. She was the clingiest thing in the world back then, wouldn't fall asleep unless I was holding her.

I thought that was how it would be forever.

Then they found the other world inside the pool, and everything changed.

The first time my boyfriend, Ethan Whitmore, took me home to meet his mother, he brought my best friend with us.

The door had barely opened when Diane looked right past me and reached for Chloe Parker with a smile.

"Chloe! I found those fuzzy slippers you liked last time."

Only then did she notice me standing behind Chloe.

"And you are...?"

For two seconds, no one said a word.

Ethan smiled and slipped an arm around my shoulders.

"Mom, this is Nora. My girlfriend."

Diane's surprise gave way to awkwardness almost at once. "Oh. Ethan talks about Chloe at home all the time, so I just assumed..."

Chloe slipped her arm through mine with practiced ease, smoothing over the awkwardness for everyone.

"Diane, the three of us have known each other since high school. Nora won't mind."

Later, Diane drew Chloe into the kitchen, praising her for being sweet and thoughtful and saying she already felt like one of the family.

Ethan leaned against the doorway with a grin. "My mom loves people like her."

I sat by myself in the living room, cradling a cup of tea that had long since gone cold.

That evening, Diane brought out an antique gold bangle that had been in the Whitmore family for generations and turned to Chloe.

"Tell me something. Does this look too old-fashioned for someone your age?"

The three of them crowded around it, talking. No one paid any attention to me.

Watching how easily they fit together, I suddenly felt tired.

...

The moment the bangle slipped over Chloe's wrist, the living room went still.

Diane's eyes lit up.

"Oh, wow. It really does suit you."

Chloe glanced down and immediately waved her free hand.

"Diane, I can't wear this. Let Nora try it."

She started to pull it off.

But somehow, the bangle caught at her wrist bone.

Chloe sucked in a breath at the pain.

Ethan frowned immediately and took hold of her wrist.

"Don't yank it. You'll hurt yourself."

His voice stayed low, but the concern in it was unmistakable.

Diane panicked too. "Did I hurt you when I put it on?"

"No, no."

Chloe shook her head, yet still remembered to glance my way.

"Nora, don't get the wrong idea. I was just trying it on for Diane."

From the couch, I watched Ethan bend over her wrist and carefully work the bangle loose.

His touch was gentle.

Too gentle, almost as if he were afraid she might break.

He glanced up at Chloe, annoyed. "Quit worrying about that. If it hurts, say something."

Chloe smacked him with her free hand. "Hey. Don't snap at me."

They went back and forth, neither willing to let the other have the last word.

The tea in my hands had gone completely cold.

Before we came over, Ethan had shown me a picture of the bangle.

He told me the women in the Whitmore family had passed it down from one daughter-in-law to the next for generations.

"If Mom brings it out, it means she sees you as family."

Back then, I had actually asked him:

"What if she doesn't?"

Ethan had laughed and mussed my hair.

"She will."

"How could she not like you?"

Now the bangle was on Chloe's wrist.

They were so busy making sure Chloe was okay that no one gave me a second thought.

Eventually, Ethan brought over some hand lotion and slowly eased the bangle off.

A red ring marked Chloe's wrist.

Diane fussed over her, urging her to sit while she went to find some ointment.

Ethan crouched in front of her too, inspecting the mark.

"Still hurt?"

Chloe grinned and tucked her hand away.

"It's nothing. You're being dramatic."

That was Chloe. She had always been breezy about things like that.

Once Diane had finished rubbing ointment onto Chloe's wrist, she finally looked at me.

"Nora, I only asked Chloe to try it on. Don't take it the wrong way."

I had barely opened my mouth when Chloe came over and wrapped herself around my arm.

"Babe, you're not mad at me, right?"

She blinked up at me, coaxing me the way she had countless times before.

I looked at the red mark around her wrist. I knew I should say what I really felt, but a dull ache had already settled in my chest.

It had taken me ten years to go from secretly loving Ethan to standing beside him as he introduced me to his family.

Back in school, Ethan was the kind of guy everyone knew. He collected competition wins like trophies, and no one thought the two of us made sense together.

I was painfully ordinary by comparison. My GPA hovered near the bottom, and I came from an average family.

There had been enough gossip to make me doubt myself more times than I could count. Every time, Chloe had planted herself beside me and told me not to listen.

As insecure as I was, I had always thought I was lucky to have both Ethan and Chloe.

Now, with all of them looking at me expectantly, I still couldn't make myself say no.

I swallowed against the tightness in my throat and lied.

"I don't mind."

All of them paused.

I got to my feet and set the stone-cold tea back on the coffee table.

"You have good taste, Diane."

"The bangle really does look good on Chloe."

Ethan's brow tightened, almost too subtly to notice.

"Nora."

I shoved my feelings down and made myself sound casual. "I mean it."

Chloe threw her arms around me.

"God, Nora, you're the best!"

Ethan shot back, "She's mine."

Standing on either side of me, they each grabbed an arm and started bickering over me.

I tried to get them to stop, only to realize I couldn't get a word in.

My arms hurt from being tugged back and forth.

At the wedding rehearsal, my fiancé and my best friend slipped right back into their favorite old game: pretending I didn't exist.

While we were supposed to be exchanging rings, Grayson leaned past me, laughing, and asked Sienna what she wanted for dinner.

The two of them started chatting like there was nobody else in the room.

I stood there with my hand still hanging in midair, saying "I do" for the fifth time.

Nobody answered.

They'd been playing this game since we were kids.

The first time, I was six. I drew the short straw and became "the ghost."

After that, they couldn't get enough of it.

Neither of them wanted to lose and end up the next ghost.

No matter how hard I cried, how hysterical I got, they just looked straight through me.

Every single time, I was the one who broke first.

I'd cave and beg them to stop.

When the game was over, Grayson always ruffled my hair.

"It's just a game. Don't take it so seriously."

Sienna would hide behind him, giggling into her hand.

"You always freak out so hard. It's hilarious."

Under the spotlight now, they chatted away like the perfect couple everyone always imagined they'd be.

Like I'd never existed at all.

I felt suddenly, bone-deep tired.

I pulled my hand back, tore off my veil, and walked out of the chapel.

Nobody came after me.

They probably figured the game just wasn't over yet.

Fine. I'd give them exactly what they wanted.

I'd walk away from their lives for good.

***

Grayson got home while I was packing.

Five years together, three of them living under the same roof, and there was almost nothing here I actually wanted to keep.

He stopped in the doorway, eyes landing on the suitcase.

He opened his mouth like he was about to say something, then shut it again.

The Ghost Game wasn't over yet.

Talk to me and he'd lose.

So he looked away and walked straight past me,

like I was just a patch of empty air crouched on the floor.

There used to be a time when moments like this sent me into a panic.

I couldn't stand being ignored by him and Sienna.

I'd try everything to get their attention. Anything to make them look at me.

None of it ever worked.

He probably figured this suitcase was just another one of my tricks to make him crack first.

But this time, I didn't chase after him.

I folded the last shirt and set it in the suitcase.

Grayson paced the living room a few times.

He poured a glass of water, closed the curtains, then finally leaned against the bedroom door and started scrolling his phone.

He set the glass down hard on purpose and kicked my charging cable toward my feet.

I bent down, picked it up, and stepped around him.

The apartment went so quiet you could've heard a pin drop.

His expression darkened, bit by bit.

Right when he looked like he was about to break, the front door clicked open.

Sienna bounced in with a bag of fruit swinging from her hand.

"Grayson, I got the biggest, sweetest strawberries!"

Grayson went right over and took the bag from her.

"Cold out there?"

"Freezing. And you didn't even come down to walk me up."

The two of them laughed their way over to the couch.

Sienna tucked her feet against his leg like she'd done it a hundred times.

He reached over and draped a blanket over her.

The TV picked up right where they'd left off on some movie.

When I walked in front of the screen to put something down, their eyes slid straight through me.

For a second I was somewhere else. My eighteenth birthday.

I'd spent forever doing my makeup, saved up for a Dairy Queen ice cream cake, and sat there happily waiting for them to help me blow out the candles.

The second the candles were lit, right as I closed my eyes to make a wish, I caught Sienna shoot Grayson a wink.

The Ghost Game had started.

I asked, careful and quiet, "It's my birthday. Can we not play tonight?"

Nobody answered.

Grayson kept his head down over a comic book, and Sienna leaned in close, pointing at the pages, laughing with him.

Not once, the whole time, did either of them look at me.

I watched the candles burn all the way down. Watched the ice cream melt.

The cake sagged into a puddle on the tray, the same way the tears I'd been holding back finally spilled over.

I sat there quietly, unable to hold back my tears.

"Okay, I lose. I give up. Please just stop ignoring me. Please just spend my birthday with me."

Only now did I remember the wish I never got to make that night.

I'd wished Grayson would love me a little more.

I'd wished this game really was just a game.

"Ow!"

A sharp sting shot through my fingertip. I accidentally nicked my finger with the box cutter.

A small cut appeared immediately.

I gasped and dropped down, pressing my hand against the cut.

Laughter kept spilling from the couch.

"Where are my strawberries? Did you even wash them?"

Sienna's voice was all pout.

Grayson mumbled something back and got up, heading for the kitchen.

Passing me, he lifted his leg and stepped right over me without a beat of hesitation.

The toe of his shoe brushed past my injured hand without him even noticing.

He couldn't even spare me a glance.

I stayed frozen where I was, watching Grayson's back blur out of focus.

A wish made without blowing out the candles didn't count, apparently.

I'd been lying to myself.

Telling myself it was just a game they couldn't get tired of.

I scrubbed the tears off my face.

When I spoke again, my voice came out strangely calm.

"Game over. I'm out."

"And Grayson, we're done."

I lost everything.

But before my 18th birthday, my life was perfect. Caring parents, lovely siblings.

Dad was our pack’s Beta before my eldest brother Jayden took over. I had a twin brother, Michel and Philip, who absolutely adored us.

And then there was me, and my twin sister Kylie.

Not all twins were alike, at least not Kylie and me.

Kylie was everyone’s favorite, sweet and delicate little princess, always dressed in pretty skirt; whereas I was always hunting in the woods, getting my hoodie and jeans covered in dirt.

And then there was…him.

Asher, the future Alpha of our pack, my best friend since childhood, my secret crush.

He was every girl’s dream. Handsome and charming.

We became friends at a very young age. Although I had the luxury of spending more time with him, I didn’t think he see me in that way. He probably just thought of me as his friend and little sister.

But my feeling for him exceeded friendship. I couldn’t imagine living without him. Asher was already 23 and still hadn’t found his destined one. His mate must be among the she-wolves who hadn’t shifted yet, myself included.

I couldn’t wait to find out if I were the lucky one.

And then came my 18th birthday.

The day that changed everything.

Kylie and I were so excited to find out about our mates. As soon as the clock struck midnight, I snuck out to Asher’s room to figure out if he was mine.

My heart almost jumped out of my mouth when I confirmed that my best friend was my mate. His scent made my body hummed with pleasure.

Despite my thrill, I didn’t wake him up. He was still soundly asleep, probably tired from his training and meeting. I would wait till tomorrow at the birthday party to surprise him.

So I dashed back home, bubbling with joy, ready to share this news first with my family.

But back at home I found my parents and all my 3 brothers gathered around Kylie, all of them in tears.

My twin sister’s mate died on the same day she found him.

Their matebond had broken.

There wasn’t any bad news in our pack that day. So her mate must be from another pack.

Kylie was crushed. This was the worst nightmare that could possibly happen. And seeing how desperate she was, I couldn’t bring myself to tell them whom my mate was. I didn’t want Kylie to be sadder.

That night the whole family stayed by Kylie’s side, trying to comfort her.

But it didn’t work.

The next morning, she tried to slit her wrist in the bathtub. If I hadn’t happened to check on her and snatched her blade, Kylie would have been dead already.

Asher called in the morning. But I missed it. The whole family had our hearts on Kylie, trying to stop her ending her life. I never had the chance to mention my news to anyone, not even to Asher.

And then finally, on the third day, Kylie agreed not to commit suicide.

But she wanted Asher.

My parents immediately agreed to her request. At that point, they were so desperate that they would say yes to anything she asked.

Plus, Asher was already 23 and still single. The whole pack was looking forward to him getting married.

I was shocked and heartbroken that day. I wanted Kylie to be happy.

But Asher…he was everything I wanted.

So I told my parents the truth, about Asher being my mate. I thought they’d help me figure out a solution together.

But no.

They took me to a witch.

The witch gave me a potion. It would hide my scent so my mate wouldn’t recognize me anymore. And the cost was my wolf.

The pain from the potion knocked me to the ground. I cried in silence, too painful to say anything.

Mom cried along, but still forced the last drop down my throat.

She told me that I was strong. And I would survive this, but not Kylie. Kylie was too fragile. They couldn’t put Kylie through this kind of pain. Kylie was more of a Luna material anyway. It was better to let her have Asher.

But I guessed they were fine with me going through this pain.

When I woke up again, my wolf was barely alive.

Then I watched Kylie and Asher happy for 2 years.

I couldn’t do my favorite hunting anymore because my wolf couldn’t afford it. And the potion left me with a constant pain. I tossed and turned in bed for hours and couldn’t sleep.

Yet nobody noticed my pain. Only my friend Elena did. She helped me realize how insignificant I was to my family.

Mom and dad were devastated when Kylie lost her mate, and they would do anything for her. But now the same happen to me. They didn’t seem to care.

My 3 brothers were always by Kylie’s side, comforting her, holding her hand, telling her to be strong. And now I was moaning in the next room. They never realized how much I needed them too.

Kylie recovered quickly now that she had Asher. Soon she was everyone’s little princess again. But I never got pass the loss of my mate. I was broken completely.

Gradually I became invisible to everyone, like that feisty Violet never existed.

Then one day, I saw it on TV that Kylie and Asher got married.

It was a huge wedding. Kylie wore a beautiful wedding gown, beaming as she clung to Asher’s arm.

She looked absolutely radiant, even more beautiful than before.

My family stood behind her. My father clapped with pride, mom cried with joy, Jayden and my twin brothers, Michael and Philip, cheered loudly, showering the newlyweds with flower petals.

As for Asher...

No.

I couldn’t look at his face. It’d break me.

I turned to the mirror and found a pale reflection of myself.

Kylie and I didn’t look alike but we used to be pretty in our own ways. But now, only Kylie was a pretty. I became a ghost.

My wolf died completely that day. The pain was too strong and overwhelming. I couldn’t stand it. So I decided to leave home. Only by staying away from everyone would ease my pain.

I moved far away, cutting off contact with everyone except for Elena. Nobody in my family bothered to find me. I had to scrape by odd jobs, but at least the pain is manageable now.

Then one day, I came back from my waitress job, exhausted and sweaty, and found a woman on my doorstep.

“Elena?”

I stared at my best friend, my eyes widening in shock.

At our wedding ceremony, Rose Lane's assistant, Zachary Zimmer, accidentally projects the wrong photo on the screen.

The huge screen initially shows a wedding portrait of Rose and me. But suddenly, it turns into a photo featuring Rose and Zachary in wedding clothes. Both of them held hands with each other while looking into each other's eyes lovingly. It was clear that they looked very happy together.

Everyone gasps in shock.

Zachary begins sobbing quietly and asks if I can delay the wedding.

Rose remains calm and collected as she starts throwing out suggestions to me.

"The guests are already here, so it'll be embarrassing for us if we delay the wedding ceremony. Besides, it also spells ill luck for us if we do that. No one recognizes the groom's face anyway. Why don't we let Zachary replace you in this ceremony for now?"

All of our friends are stunned, to say the least. They think I'll go ballistic and get incredibly jealous because of Rose's suggestion.

Instead, I nod and claim that it's a great idea.

Noting my composed manner, Rose smugly declares that we've already registered our marriage, so she promises me that she will hold another wedding for me when she's free enough.

But she seems to have forgotten that she's signed a divorce agreement just now.

Chapter 1

I plucked the groom's boutonniere and handed it to my wife, Rose Lane, then didn't bother with the subtle looks she and the people around us were exchanging. I just walked out of the hotel.

Rose didn't come after me.

Behind me, the hall erupted in applause as Rose and Zachary Zimmer took the stage, surrounded by the celebrating crowd.

I knew this wasn't an accident. It was Zachary's way of poking at me.

Too bad Rose couldn't—or wouldn't—see it. Maybe she saw and was deliberately letting it slide.

In the past, I might've felt upset, but now, surprisingly, I felt nothing but calm.

I went home and took a much-needed nap.

Rose hated fuss, so the entire wedding had fallen on me. From start to finish, I was running around making sure nothing went wrong.

I'd been preparing nonstop after work, carefully selecting hotels and staying up late to choose invitation card designs and party favors. Yesterday, I even rehearsed until the early hours, and my chest still ached from the stress.

Looking back now, it felt hardly worth it.

I should've just gone through the motions.

Just as I was drifting in and out of sleep, Rose's call jolted me awake.

"Marcus, the wedding's over. Where are you?"

Hearing her cheerful voice on the line made me chuckle—I'd been home for hours, and she hadn't even noticed I was gone.

Or maybe she had noticed, but she didn't care enough to check.

I yawned. "At home."

For a split second, there was nothing but silence.

"Marcus, are you still upset about the wedding?" she asked, knowingly, like she always did.

This time, she was wrong. I wasn't angry, just uninterested.

"I'm not," I answered truthfully.

Rose didn't believe me. "I know you're holding some resentment, but I did it for the company's sake. Many of today's guests were business partners. If they saw us messing up even our photos, they'd doubt our competence. I just didn't want you to look like a joke.

"And Zachary was under so much pressure today—you have no idea how many drinks people piled on him. He took the hits for you. You should be thanking him."

I was amused. I started to suspect that in the chaos of the wedding, someone had slipped off with her brain.

Before I could answer, Zachary's gentle voice cut in. "Rose, don't say that. I was just doing what I was supposed to do."

"Nonsense. You handled the unexpected situation perfectly. I'll soon tell the financial department you're getting a raise."

One sentence from my adopted sister was all it took to have me locked away in a psychiatric hospital.

Five years later, my husband finally came to take me home.

The moment I got into the car, I saw my adopted sister, Beryl, sitting comfortably in the passenger seat. She looked at me with watery eyes and spoke in a trembling voice.

"Quinn's glare was so scary just now... I'm frightened."

My husband's expression darkened instantly.

"Quinn, are you having another episode—"

Before he could finish, I snatched the pen off the seat and drove it straight into my left eye.

The pen disappeared into my eye socket.

Blood and vitreous fluid streamed down my face, but I only grinned wider, as though I couldn't feel a thing.

After leaving the hospital, we returned home.

The second we stepped through the front door, Beryl deliberately threw herself onto the floor.

She curled into a ball and screamed in terror.

"I'm sorry, Quinn! I know I was wrong! Please don't kill me!"

Hearing that, my husband stormed over.

Without asking a single question, he grabbed me by the hair and slammed my head into the wall.

"Haven't you learned your lesson yet? Why can't you stop bullying Beryl?"

The wound around my left eye split open again.

Warm blood poured over half my face.

Ignoring Grant, who continued shouting at me, I turned around and walked straight toward the balcony.

Then...

I jumped.

From the fifth floor.

An exposed steel rebar shot through my kidney.

The impact shattered my leg, white bone ripping through flesh.

I lay motionless in a pool of blood and mangled flesh, staring blankly at the two figures leaning over the balcony above.

Just then, my parents came home from work.

The moment they saw my twisted body lying below, both of them rolled their eyes back and collapsed on the spot.

[Ding.]

Pain Value: 40%.

An additional 80% Pain Value is required before the host may travel to the next world.

Please keep up the good work.

...

I woke up on the morning of the third day after the doctors pulled me back from death.

The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes...

was my husband, Grant, kissing my adopted sister.

The moment Beryl noticed I was awake, she hurriedly pushed him away and put on an innocent expression.

"Quinn, don't misunderstand. Grant was only helping me check whether there was something in my eye."

“Congratulations! We are calling back to inform you that you have been hired as the new Physical Therapist of the New York Glaciers.”

I nearly dropped my phone. My fingers went numb, my breath catching somewhere between disbelief and hope. I threw my apron into the dirty linens while my best friend, Freya, stared at me, mouthing, ‘what’s happening?’

I held out a hand, my voice trembling. “Oh—this is unexpected. Thank you so much! Do I need to do anything for now?”

“The details have been sent to your email. Please head to the office by Monday for the contract signing.”

“We are pleased to welcome you to our team.”

“Thank you again. Really, really thank you.”

The call ended, and the silence lasted only a second before I squealed, jumping in place. Freya squealed with me, laughing even though she had no idea why.

“What’s happening?”

“I’m hired for the New York Glaciers!” I exclaimed, my chest feeling too small to contain the words.

Her eyes widened before she screamed louder than I did. “Oh my gosh! This is great news! You’ve been wanting to become the PT of a sports team since forever!”

I smiled, my cheeks aching from it. “Well, it’s hard getting hired in this economy, especially when you didn’t graduate within the strict timeline.”

She sighed, opening her arms. I fell into her embrace, letting myself feel it—relief, pride, something close to vindication.

“This is your big break, Hope. You can finally leave this fast food hell.”

I laughed softly, pulling away. “You have to leave it soon, too.”

“Don’t worry,” she grinned. “I’ll be a bigshot photographer soon.”

I nodded, feeding off her energy, before glancing at the clock. My heart skipped.

“I have to go tell Connor. He must be back from practice,” I said, the excitement bubbling all over again.

Her expression faltered. Just slightly—but I caught it.

“What now?”

“Nothing, nothing,” she said quickly. “I don’t want to ruin the moment, but Connor is the reason you started working in this hellhole in the first place.”

“You had to work just to pay for his hockey equipment and workshops, which then caused the delays in your graduation.”

I sighed, the words familiar, worn into me. “You already know the reason, Frey. His parents didn’t support him playing hockey. But they’ve finally accepted him after all these years.”

A small smile tugged at my lips. Connor, my boyfriend of three years, had wanted this his entire life. He only started playing in college, after years of being told to become a doctor.

I was the one who told him to chase it anyway.

And now, he was with the New York Glaciers.

Meanwhile, I took four years to finish a two-and-a-half-year degree. But I never regretted it. Not when it meant standing beside him.

“He’s a benchwarmer, though,” Freya muttered.

I ignored her, slinging my bag over my shoulder as I headed for the door.

“See you tomorrow! I’ll hand in my resignation letter.”

She smiled despite everything, waving. “Stay safe!”

I made my way to the apartment Connor and I shared, my steps lighter than they had been in years. The business district buzzed around me, but all I could hear was the echo of that call. Rent was expensive in central Manhattan, but Connor insisted we stay near the rink. Thankfully, my three jobs kept us afloat. Barely, but still.

I entered the old building, the familiar creak of the door greeting me. The elevator was broken again, as always. My legs ached, but it didn’t matter. I took the stairs two at a time, my heart racing for an entirely different reason.

I pushed the apartment door open, my smile unstoppable, my chest full.

“Con—”

The word died in my throat.

A sound slipped through the air. Soft. Breathless.

A moan.

“Ahh, Connor! Right there,” a familiar voice gasped.

My body froze.

“Fuck, you like that?”

Connor’s voice—low, rough, unmistakable—wrapped around me like chains.

“Yes,” the woman moaned. “You’re the best I ever had.”

Connor chuckled. I heard it—the wet, intimate sound of mouths colliding and skin slapping against skin.

“And you’re the best for me, too. No one else can compare.”

Something inside me cracked.

It felt like ice water flooding my veins, freezing everything in place. Still, I moved. One step at a time, even as dread coiled tighter in my stomach.

It couldn’t be.

It shouldn’t be.

After everything, he couldn’t do this to me.

The bedroom door was open. Connor lay on his back, a blonde bombshell riding him, her body moving like she belonged there. Like he belonged to her.

My throat went dry. Just like that, the happiness I carried home shattered into nothing.

A month later, Mia Scott suffered from a burn.

As she was going through a skin graft, Mike Anderson suddenly thought of me.

“Is it fun to give me the cold shoulder for that long?

“Be here in thirty minutes. If Mia has any scars because of this, I’m going to divorce you and split our assets accordingly!”

Splitting assets meant that everything in our marriage would have a price tag attached to it.

I was a housewife, and I would end up with nothing.

He believed that I would definitely go, but he did not know that I had already died in the fire along with our baby.

When I left our house, I felt a little strange.

A ghost once told me that if my lover thought of me, I would be able to leave my death site.

However, a month had passed, and I could not leave the house at all.

Mike had never once thought of me. He only remembered me when Mia needed a skin graft procedure.

I grimaced.

It was no surprise. When I was alive, he never cared about me.

What more, I was dead?

Mike was disinfecting Mia’s wounds, and he looked at her with such tenderness and care that I had never seen before.

His phone buzzed. He thought that I was calling, so he sneered.

In the end, it was a call from his team about a mission.

“Is the deputy chief dead? I told you that Mia’s injured. I have to be at the hospital with her.

“I don’t care about excelling in my KPIs. If it’s for Mia, I’m willing to let him have that chance.”

The call only lasted ten seconds.

Tears welled up in my eyes as I felt upset.

It turned out that he had ample time, he just chose not to spend it with me.

Or perhaps, he would only make exceptions for his precious Mia.

Mia pouted. She was young and beautiful.

“Mike, is Leah unwilling to donate her skin for my skin graft? Is that why she’s hiding?

“It’s fine, if I end up unmarried because of the scars, I’ll work in the firefighting department forever.”

After she said that, Mike’s eyes became fierce. Then, he called me for the very first time.

However, no one answered the call.

Out of desperation, he called my best friend, Sally Reid.

Sally scolded him, “Mike, where were you when Leah’s burnt to death?

“Did you know she was just pregnant with your child?”

Mike snorted and then immediately put in his divorce request in the system.

“Why are you teaming up to lie to me? I’m the chief of the firefighting department. Won’t I know if there’s a fire?

“Tell her that if she wants to continue this fight, I’ll divorce her!”

Divorce…

Even though my heart was no longer beating, I still felt it tighten in my chest.

I looked down at my translucent body and smiled mockingly at myself.

He did not have to divorce me. He had already regained his freedom a month ago.

Sally yelled at him for being a jerk. However, he was even more cold-blooded than I had imagined.

“I’m a jerk? Sure!

“Please tell her if she’s not willing to admit her mistakes, I’ll throw her mentally challenged mother out from the rehabilitation center to the streets!”

He ended the call after saying that. On the other end, Sally was already in tears.

“Mother? What mother…

“Her silly mother had already died in a car accident on her way to seek help from you…”

"Fuck, Elara…"

"Zack... oh, deeper... harder!" My shrill voice begged between breathy moans.

Scorching fluid surged inside me. I loved the feeling of my partner inside me, even after our climaxes had subsided.

But then he pushed me away.

"I, Zack Blackwood of the Blackwood Pack, reject you, Elara Park, as my fated mate."

WHAT THE HELL? My mate said this right after making love to me.

His little guy had just finished interacting with me!

Getting rejected by your fated mate was the worst pain imaginable.

It was not just heartbreak. It felt like someone was tearing your chest open and crushing your heart with their bare hands.

My wolf screamed inside me. The sound was so painful I almost lost my mind. She fought and clawed like a trapped animal, desperate to break free.

Every part of my body burned. My blood felt like liquid fire in my veins. My heart shattered into a million pieces.

This was fate's cruelest joke. You found your other half, then watched them destroy everything between you.

My wolf curled up in the corner of my mind, shaking like a hurt puppy.

She had been so proud when we found our mate. Now she could only whimper in confusion and pain.

Why? Why would he do this to us?

But through the pain, one thought burned crystal clear in my mind:

You just made the biggest mistake of your life, Zack Blackwood.

And I was going to make sure you regretted it.

...

I was Elara Park -a hybrid nobody wanted.

My mother Nadia was a pureblooded Alpha's daughter, while my father James was human.

When my father was alive, our life was perfect.

But after Dad died, Mom married Alpha Enzo Vance of The Amber Pack.

For the first time, I was thrust into pack life, where I became an instant target.

"Look, it's the half-breed."

"Her human blood makes her weak."

The whispers followed me everywhere. My father's human heritage became a weapon other pack members used against me.

At first, Mom tried to protect me. She was struggling too, trying to prove herself as Enzo's new wife.

But two years later, she had my half-brother Anthony.

Everything changed then. She became obsessed with being the perfect Luna.

I became an embarrassing reminder of her past.

The protection stopped. I was on my own in a world that would never accept me.

I learned the truth early in life.

I could attend pack meetings and wear nice clothes to events. But I would never be real family.

Because I was a hybrid with weak bloodline.

But Zack Blackwood was different.

He was the future Alpha of the Blackwood Pack. A born leader who got respect everywhere he went. At every gathering, the most powerful families pushed their daughters at him.

BUT, his fated mate was me.

The first time we scented each other at a territorial meeting, we both knew instantly. My wolf submitted to his power immediately. His eyes locked on mine across the room and wouldn't look away.

We fell into what felt like a perfect relationship. Secret meetings, stolen kisses, passionate nights together.

I thought he didn't care about my mixed blood.

I threw myself into becoming worthy of him - studied pack politics, learned etiquette, trained harder than any pureblooded she-wolf.

The Moon Goddess had given us this bond – surely that meant I was destined to be his Luna.

But it didn't matter.

My eyes burned as I watched Zack, who was suffering through the mate bond rejection too. I forced the words through gritted teeth: "Why?"

"I thought you always understood," Zack looked at me with eyes that had turned cold and distant. "You're a hybrid. Being my girlfriend temporarily was already an honor. How could you possibly think you deserved to be Luna of the Blackwood Pack?"

"I've already chosen my Luna candidate. But don't worry – after I marry her, you can still be my mistress."

So he'd been cheating. Planning this all along.

If I'd had a silver knife right then, I would've stabbed him repeatedly.

But I was too weak, too broken. I could only watch him get dressed and walk out of my life.

After he left, the television was broadcasting news from the Council Gala.

There was Zack at the head table, beside Selina Vance - my stepsister.

The Vance family's golden wolf, their most prized bloodline.

Elegant, pure, powerful, she seemed custom-made for the title of "future Luna."

The headline was beautifully crafted:

"Blackwood Pack's Future Alpha Appears With Pureblooded Luna Candidate, Marriage Alliance Imminent."

I stared at the photograph, my body turning cold.

Everyone was congratulating them.

Everyone thought this was right.

No one cared that Zack's true fated mate wasn't Selina, but me.

Just as I was about to crush my phone, my mom Nadia called.

Her voice was ice-cold, "Elara, you're twenty-three now. It's time you contributed to the family."

I listened as she declared my fate: "Enzo and I have discussed it and arranged several matchmaking meetings for you. All respectable Alpha families, suitable matches."

"If you don't cooperate..." she paused, her voice growing even colder, "you can forget about your father's hotel chain."

My blood froze instantly.

My birth father, James Park, had owned a boutique hotel chain—the Park Hotel Group.

When my father died, I was only five. He'd made careful arrangements for me:

He left me 45% of the shares—making me the majority shareholder.

My mother received 30% of the shares.

Another 15% went to an employee stock ownership plan, distributed among 25 core staff members, with restrictions against external transfers.

The final 10% established a charitable trust for public welfare projects.

Besides shares, father left me other assets: Park Manor, some investment accounts, and his personal collections.

These properties were directly in my name but managed by my mother until I came of age.

But there was a crucial condition—I must complete a formal marriage registration before my 23rd birthday, or management rights for all assets, including my shares, would permanently transfer to my mother.

Now, I had just one month left until my 23rd birthday.

My father had wanted to protect me, never imagining this condition would become my mother's greatest leverage against me.

If I didn't marry according to their wishes, they could use various financial maneuvers to dilute my shares' value, reducing me to a shareholder in name only.

I finally understood the truth.

She never intended to let me truly take over my father's business. Those assets were just another card in her hand, tools to control and manipulate me.

"You have 12 hours to decide," she said without any love in her voice. Just cold business. "Elara, don't let me down. You've already caused enough problems for this family. Stop being difficult."

I sat alone in my tiny apartment and started laughing.

So why should I keep letting everyone walk all over me?

If they wanted to treat marriage like some business deal, fine.

I'd use marriage to strike back. Hard.

"I'll go through with your political marriage arrangement," my voice turned equally cold, "but when it's over, don't forget to return my inheritance to me, Luna Nadia."

After the witch’s memory severance ritual, I forgot everything.

I forgot the Alpha I was fated to for seven years.

I forgot the Omega girl I’d sponsored since childhood, the one who stole my entire life.

I forgot everything about the Blackwood Pack.

With the paperwork severing my ties to the pack finalized, I applied to join the Lunar Guard and was shipped out to a conflict zone overseas.

Everyone assumed I was just throwing a tantrum.

They thought I'd come crawling back to the pack’s protection after a few weeks in the shit.

They were wrong.

Five years later, helicopters with strange markings descended on the Lunar Guard’s outpost, surrounding us.

Armed wolf warriors swarmed the area, securing it in seconds.

Under the blinding glare of a searchlight, an emissary from the North American Wolf Alliance stepped out. He looked at me, his face a mask of shock.

“After all these years, why did you never contact Alpha Aiden of the Blackwood Pack? Do you have any idea he’s been waiting for you for five whole years?”

I blinked, confused. “I’m sorry, I underwent a memory severance ritual a long time ago. Who… who is Aiden?”

The air went still.

A sudden, sharp panic seized my chest, and I instinctively looked up.

In the helicopter's open hatch stood a man in tactical gear. His tall, powerful frame was rigid, and his eyes, red-rimmed and raw, were locked on me.

…

I found out about Aiden and Lily on the night of our bonding ceremony.

I couldn’t find him anywhere.

Finally, I saw them on the terrace of the pack leader’s cabin.

He had her, Lily, the Omega girl I’d supported for a decade, pressed against the wall, his mouth devouring hers.

I walked over calmly and slapped him across the face.

The next thing I knew, Lily shoved me off the terrace.

As I fell, a strange sense of predictability washed over me.

It was happening again.

Everyone I cared about was eventually stolen by Lily.

She was the orphaned daughter of my father’s old war buddy, a pitiful Omega with a tragic backstory.

I started sponsoring her when she was twelve, treating her like a little sister.

I paid for her education, brought her into my social circle, and found her a comfortable administrative job within the pack.

She was clever, charming, and bright, like a little ray of sunshine.

My family and my pack mates, who were initially wary of her, all grew to adore her.

“That little Omega is so much more likable than you.”

I’d heard those words more times than I could count.

And now, even my Alpha, the man I’d loved for seven years and was about to officially bond with under the Moon Goddess’s watch, had fallen for her act.

When I woke up in the pack infirmary, Aiden was sitting by my bed.

He wasn’t there to check on my injuries.

The only name on his lips was Lily.

“Selena, that kiss… it was a mistake… It will never happen again.”

“And as for Lily, you’ve taken care of her for years. Her life is already hard enough. Don’t hold this against her, okay?”

I looked into his golden eyes, the mark of an Alpha, and a bitter laugh escaped my lips.

“Aiden, you’re saying all this because you’re scared I’ll ruin her reputation, scared I’ll have her kicked out of the pack. Isn’t that right?”

His face darkened. He grabbed my wrist, his grip like iron.

“I know you’re angry, but as the future Luna, your actions affect the stability of the entire pack.”

“Let this go. We’re about to be bonded. Don’t make this messy.”

I wrenched my hand free and stared at the full moon outside the window.

He opened his mouth to say more, but his Beta appeared, whispering in his ear.

Lily was having an emotional breakdown. She needed him.

Aiden glanced at me, his tone softening slightly.

“There’s trouble with some rogue wolves on the border. I have to handle it myself. You get some rest.”

He was gone before I could answer.

He rushed out without a backward glance.

He never came back.

I lay motionless in bed, my eyes fixed on an ad on a hidden forum on my phone.

【An ancient witch’s memory severance ritual. Break the chains of your past.】

I’ve always been decisive.

And I have zero tolerance for betrayal.

I never wanted something that was already tainted.

So, whether it was Aiden or the seven years we shared, I was done.

I walked out of the witch’s hidden cottage, my mind feeling strangely clear, yet terrifyingly empty.

Parts of my past were now locked away in a magically sealed box.

I knew they were there, but I had lost both the key and the desire to open it.

The ritual required two stages. I had to return in five days for the final session.

Following the faint memory of an address, I returned to the Blackwood Pack’s territory.

The guards recognized me and let me pass with a respectful nod.

I opened the door to my house to the sound of laughter.

“Lily did great! She won first place in the Alliance Hunt!”

“She’s really made our pack proud!”

I saw Lily surrounded by a crowd of my friends, her face blushing with pride.

Aiden stood beside her, his posture relaxed but proud, a smile of approval on his lips.

One of them noticed me, and their smile faded.

The lively room fell silent.

A flicker of discomfort crossed Aiden’s face as he walked toward me.

“Selena? You’re back? Why didn’t you tell me you were out of the infirmary? I would have picked you up.”

I stepped away from his outstretched hand, my voice flat.

“What? Did my return to my own home interrupt your party?”

The atmosphere turned awkward.

Chloe, a pack mate I’d fought and bled with for years, tried to smooth things over.

“Selena, you’re just in time.”

“We’re celebrating Lily’s victory. We all pitched in for a gift, and since you’ve looked after her for so long, it’s only right that you give it to her.”

Before I could refuse, she shoved a small, beautifully wrapped box into my hand.

Not wanting to drag this out, I held it out to Lily.

The moment she reached for it, the box suddenly dropped to the floor.

The wolf totem, carved from moonstone, shattered into pieces.

Lily’s eyes filled with tears.

“Selena… you still can’t forgive me, can you? That night was just an accident… I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

“I’ve been so worried about you while you were recovering…”

Seeing her cry, everyone turned on me, their words sharp with blame.

“Selena, honestly, Lily’s life has been hard enough!”

“Can’t you just let her have one happy day to celebrate her achievement?”

I looked at the faces accusing me.

In the center of it all, my fiancé of seven years stared at me with pure disappointment.

My heart felt like it was being pierced by silver needles. I could barely stand.

“That’s enough,” Aiden said, his voice low but carrying the full weight of his Alpha authority. The murmuring stopped.

He walked to my side, his voice a low growl.

Late at night, Julian burst into the Fifth Avenue penthouse, the cold still clinging to him.

Chloe sat calmly leafing through a book of architectural illustrations, as if the media flashbulbs popping outside the windows had nothing to do with her.

“You saw the hotel scandal?” His voice was hoarse, his eyes bloodshot. “Why haven’t you said a word?”

This wasn’t right.

Chloe lived in those buildings, in their cold, clean lines. She’d once argued with him until dawn over a single detail. There was no way she would sit back and watch the work she’d poured her heart into become an industry joke.

At last, Chloe closed the book and looked up at him.

The eyes that had once held stars and adoration for him were now a dead, frozen wasteland.

Her voice was quiet, utterly flat.

“Julian, you seem to have forgotten.”

“My name isn’t on that project.”

…

Julian froze. His tie seemed to tighten around his throat, making it hard to breathe. He searched her face for some flicker of emotion—hurt, anger, even stubbornness—but found nothing.

The face he had kissed for ten years was now like a meticulously carved Greek statue. Perfect, and cold.

“What do you mean?” He took a step forward, his voice low with restraint. “Every project under the Sterling Group has your mark on it. We’re a unit, Chloe. A team.”

A team?

A sharp, bitter laugh caught in her throat. She thought of the prenuptial agreement locked in a bank vault, the one the Sterling family lawyers jokingly called the “Sterling Clause.” It was a poisoned chain, stipulating that if the marriage ever ended, she would have no claim to a single cent of the Sterling Group’s increased value over the past ten years. She wouldn’t even be entitled to the intellectual property registered under the Sterling name.

She was the only person on this team who could never profit.

Julian’s personal assistant poked his head through the doorway. “Sir,” he murmured, “the board’s conference call starts in five minutes… and PR needs your instructions on the Art Basel coverage.”

Art Basel.

The name was a needle, sinking straight into Chloe’s numb nerves.

Two weeks ago, on their wedding anniversary, Julian had taken their sixteen-year-old son, Mason, and fourteen-year-old daughter, Lily, to Miami with Sienna, a newly famous influencer-designer. They’d thrown parties on a yacht and posted one glossy photo after another, celebrating a piece of Sienna’s that a gallery had bought for a high price.

Meanwhile, Chloe had been left alone in New York, working through the night to revise the structural drawings for the very hotel now mired in scandal.

The memory clearly pricked at Julian too. He waved his assistant away, his tone softening. “Chloe, you know Sienna is important for the group’s expansion into the younger market. She has reach. It’s purely business.”

For the first time, a flicker of expression crossed Chloe’s face. The corner of her mouth twitched, as if she’d heard a joke that had nothing to do with her.

“I know,” she said.

“You don’t believe me.” Julian’s patience was fraying. He closed the distance between them like a cornered lion. “You’re just pretending to be cold. Chloe, don’t play these games with me.”

Before the last word had left his mouth, the study door was shoved open.

Sixteen-year-old Mason stood there, his face flushed. He was still in his expensive private school uniform, but his hair was a mess, his eyes burning with humiliation and rage.

“This is all your fault! Everyone at Dalton is laughing at me!” He rushed to the desk and pointed at the news scrolling across the television screen, his voice shrill. “Why aren’t you doing something? It’s your design! Why are you hiding like a coward?”

As he shouted, he swept the architectural model off the desk. The miniature hotel, a landscape Chloe had poured countless hours into, smashed into pieces on the floor.

Fourteen-year-old Lily stood behind her brother, eyes red and lips pressed tight, a lily battered by a storm.

Julian frowned, about to scold his son.

But Chloe spoke first, her voice terrifyingly calm.

“Then you should go find your Aunt Sienna.” Her gaze drifted over the shattered model on the floor without a flicker of emotion. “She just made the cover of *Vogue*. She understands a PR crisis better than I do.”

The air in the room froze.

Julian’s fists clenched at his sides. He stared at Chloe in disbelief, as if seeing a stranger.

“Are you serious?”

“I am.” Chloe looked at the fragments on the floor as if they were her own shattered past.

Mason went still, stunned by her response. After a moment, overwhelming anger and hurt washed over him, and he broke down sobbing, accusing her of being a selfish, cold-hearted mother.

But even as he cried himself breathless, Chloe just sat there, unmoved.

A nameless fire exploded in Julian’s chest, extinguishing any desire to reason with her. “Fine, Chloe,” he said coldly. “You brought this on yourself.”

He put an arm around the sobbing Mason and strode out of the room.

Lily didn’t follow. She stopped in the doorway and looked back at Chloe, her eyes full of reproach. “Why do you always have to make Dad angry?”

Chloe lifted her head, her gaze landing on her daughter’s face, a face that was seventy percent her own.

“You should go, too.”

Lily flinched, her voice laced with confusion and pain. “You… you were never like this before.”

No. She never was.

Chloe didn’t answer. She simply stood and, right in front of her daughter, gently closed the study door.

Outside, a car engine started. Soon, everything was silent again.

Chloe leaned back against the cold leather sofa and closed her eyes.

Memories washed over her.

The day she’d graduated at the top of her class from the Yale School of Architecture and married into the Sterling family, Julian had held her hand against the glittering Manhattan skyline. “Chloe,” he’d promised, “your talent is a gift. It’s too precious to be tainted by the dust of the business world. From now on, you just focus on creating. I’ll be your armor. The Sterling name will be the umbrella that protects all your dreams.”

She had believed him.

She became the mysterious “shadow designer” behind the Sterling Group.

The drawings she labored over through countless nights won one industry award after another for the group. She solved construction problems alone on dusty sites, while Julian, as the face of the company, gave eloquent interviews to *Architectural Digest*, presenting her design philosophy as “a burst of my own inspiration.”

Everyone envied her for marrying New York’s most handsome and charming hotel magnate, for living such a carefree life.

Only she knew about the late nights, the desks buried under coffee cups and painkillers, the body that grew thinner by the day from overwork.

The final straw had been Sienna.

By accident, she discovered that Julian was not only having an affair with the “designer”—a woman famous for flaunting her curves on social media—but that he had also leaked the core concept for a desert resort hotel she’d been developing, a concept that had not yet been released.

With that nearly plagiarized idea, Sienna had won a significant “Emerging Designer” award.

But what had plunged Chloe into an icy abyss was something Lily had said, a thoughtless aside.

That day, Chloe had confronted Julian, asking him why he would do such a thing. He’d just soothed her impatiently, saying it was “only a concept. You can come up with something better anytime.” The children, seeing them argue, had scurried away. As Lily passed by, she’d muttered with a trace of upper-class contempt that didn’t belong on a girl her age, “I heard Grandpa and Dad talking… They said your talent was the Sterling family’s most successful ‘creative asset acquisition’ in years. That ‘Sterling Clause’ was just to make sure the asset would never be lost.”

Creative asset acquisition.

So her marriage, her love, had been a transaction from the very beginning.

That night, she’d watched the livestream of Sienna’s award ceremony. The woman, draped in a sexy gown, thanked Julian for his “generous guidance” and described design ideas about light, shadow, and desert roses that had come from Chloe’s own mind.

In that moment, Chloe’s world shattered. And in the silence that followed, something new and hard began to form from the pieces.

The only thing she wanted anymore wasn’t love or answers.

It was to take back everything that belonged to her. All of it.

So she did two things.

First, through an encrypted channel, she contacted David Chen, the family lawyer in New York best known for handling high-society divorces.

Second, using a shell company, she quietly registered a new architecture studio: C.D. Atelier.

She made digital backups of all her unsigned sketches, emails, and meeting records from the past ten years. Then, anonymously, she submitted her favorite new design to a prestigious international architecture competition.

In another week, the shortlist would be announced.

Soon, she would vanish from this family, just as they wished.

But not as a loser.

A sharp ring from her phone cut through her thoughts. It was Julian.

His voice came through the line, clipped and commanding. “Chloe, I’ve decided to appoint Sienna as the group’s new Brand Creative Director. Her office in Sterling Tower needs to be renovated. You’ll need to move out of your private studio at headquarters and let her use it for now.”

Taking her studio. The only territory she had left within the Sterling Group.

“All right,” Chloe answered calmly.

The next day, as Chloe packed her personal belongings with an assistant’s help, the scent of expensive perfume and the click of high heels on marble announced an arrival.

Sienna, wearing a sharply tailored red suit and Christian Louboutin heels, leaned in the studio doorway as if she owned the place.

Fresh out of the clinic after my abortion, my fiancé's voice suddenly echoed in my head.

[Did I make my wife so mad she ended up in the hospital? God, I feel so bad for her!]

[I wonder if purposely bringing her stepsister to provoke her will work today. I just really want to talk to my wife!]

My footsteps faltered. I had to be hallucinating.

Then the car window slowly hummed down.

The woman sitting in the passenger seat was my father's illegitimate daughter.

She hugged the throw pillow I had gifted my fiancé, her back resting against the heated lumbar pad I bought for him.

Her face twisted into a perfectly apologetic pout.

"Rowan, my period started and I don't feel good. Sitting in the back is just too uncomfortable."

My fiancé, Lachlan, shot me an icy glare.

"Tamsin has cramps. You're a woman, try to be a little understanding."

My fingers locked around the door handle.

My lips parted.

Before a single word could escape, Lachlan's frantic voice barged into my skull again.

[Why isn't my wife talking to me yet? Doesn't she hate this woman the most? Her mother literally drove my wife's mom to her death to take her place!]

[I put her absolute worst enemy right in the passenger seat. Does she really have no reaction at all?]

[Even if she yells at me, that's fine. Please, just say something to me.]

[Three days of the silent treatment. I'm really going to lose my damn mind!]

I released the handle.

Turned away.

And slid into the back seat.

The back door shut with a heavy thud.

Dead silence choked the inside of the car.

Lachlan's knuckles turned stark white as he gripped the steering wheel.

Then, his voice echoed right in my head.

[She actually got in the back?]

[Not a single word of protest?]

[What the hell is going on?]

[Does she really not care about me anymore?]

Tamsin shot me an odd look.

She glanced at Lachlan's white-knuckled grip on the wheel.

Tears welled in her eyes right on command.

"Never mind, Lachlan. I'll just sit in the back."

Saying that, she actually opened the door and stepped out.

Lachlan's hand shot out, snatching her wrist.

"Who said you could sit in the back?"

Tamsin peered back at me, her eyes wet and pitiful.

She bit her lip, putting up a weak struggle against his hold.

"Lachlan, let go. Let me move."

"Look, Rowan is mad."

I lifted my head.

My brow furrowed.

"I'm not mad. Keep the front seat."

Instantly.

Both of them froze.

[She's not mad? She's just doing this to piss me off, right?]

[I pushed it this far. How could she not be mad?]

[Baby, tell me you hate this. Tell me to kick her out!]

[Tell me you need me...]

So...

Every time Lachlan picked a fight with me.

Was this what went through his head?

Did he have any idea about our brutal text argument three days ago?

The one that sent me stumbling backward and crashing down a flight of stairs?

My hand pressed hard against my lower stomach.

I kept my gaze level on Tamsin.