1945 Pulitzer Winning

Today was supposed to be my marking ceremony. Instead, it became my funeral. Eliza had run me down with her car. She dragged my broken body into the storage room. "Stay here. When the ceremony is over, I'll let you out." She wanted to take my place, to be marked by Greyson, as his Luna. Greyson loved me. But his family could never allow their precious Alpha son to marry a lowborn Omega. "Millie," murmured, his voice thick with guilt. "I have to obey my family and give them an heir first -- with Eliza. You know... she's Alpha blood. "Once the pup turns one, I'll marry you." And I marked the days one by one, counting down to our forever. He claimed it was a mere duty, but but their feverish nights suggested she was his preferred addiction. A month later, Eliza was pregnant. Ten months after that, she bore the Alpha's heir. Another twelve agonizing months dragged by, and finally, it was the day he was supposed to claim me. But now, I was lying here on the floor, my body shattered. Greyson's voice cut through the phone, sharp and impatient. "Why aren't you here yet? Haven't you been desperate to marry me?" "I've let the pup's birthday incident slide -- are you still going to sulk about it?" "If you don't show up, I'll mark Eliza instead." I wasn’t coming, Greyson. I couldn’t -- I was already dead. But he believed I was simply having a tantrum.

My husband, Damien, loved me deeply—so deeply it felt like I was his whole world. Everyone said he was the perfect husband. Yet, he betrayed me. Not once, not twice, but three times. The first time was three years ago. His closest friend, Aaron, died saving him. Damien kept it from me and secretly married Aaron’s girlfriend, Vivian—on paper. I was heartbroken and ready to leave him. That night, he sent her abroad and fell to his knees, begging me. “Estelle, Aaron gave his life for me. I must take care of his widow. That marriage certificate is just a promise of security for Vivian. Once I’ve avenged Aaron, I’ll divorce her. The only woman I love is you.” I forgave him. The second time came the following year. At a press conference, Damien publicly introduced Vivian as the Mafia leader’s wife. He pulled me aside to explain. “Vivian is the only daughter of the Young family—the Mafia. Our two families joined forces for one reason only: to get revenge for Aaron. I’ve already made arrangements with her. Once we’ve dealt with our enemies, I’ll divorce her and marry you right away.” Once again, I believed him. Then came the third time. Someone drugged Damien at a banquet, and he spent the night with Vivian. He hid it from me until just two weeks ago, when I caught him at the hospital, sitting beside her during a prenatal checkup. That was when I finally learned the truth. He lowered his head, unable to meet my eyes, and spoke in a low voice. “Estelle, it was an accident. Once she gives birth, I’ll send her away. My parents will raise the child, and I swear—neither of them will ever appear in your life again.” In the name of love, Damien pushed me to compromise again and again. Yet now I know. There’s no future left for us. It’s time for me to walk away.

That night, I got off work early and brought home some late-night snacks. When I opened the door, I saw a pair of high heels carelessly tossed in the entryway and Gregory’s blazer thrown over the couch. His heavy breathing and the woman’s moans could be heard through the gap between the door and its frame. I was all too familiar with this sight. This time, I did not storm out like I used to. Instead, I sat quietly at the dining table and finished my cold pizza.

My boyfriend refuses to accompany me to the airport to pick my mother up, but he later rams into my car from behind in my new Maybach. He looks at my secondhand car and wraps an arm around the young woman beside him, who looks frightened. He says, "It's just a rusty old Volkswagen Beetle! So what if I've crashed into it? I can afford to pay for the damages!" The crowd praises him for being handsome and rich. With his back to them, he warns, "This is the woman my mom wants me to date. I'm just playing along for her sake. Don't make things embarrassing for me." I nod understandingly and tell the young woman, "Since you like collecting trash so much, you can have both him and the car. I'll have my lawyer send you the bill." Now, my boyfriend panics. He looks devastated as he hangs around outside my company all day, begging me to give him another chance.

At my mother's funeral, I caught my husband passionately kissing a sales associate at the local department store. When I confronted him about it, he turned the tables and accused me of being paranoid and delusional. Later, I discovered she had been calling my husband "daddy" in their text messages. The betrayal left me emotionally numb, and I decided to step aside, giving them my blessing. What I did not expect was discovering that she was not just involved with my husband—she had been sleeping around with multiple men. When my husband finally learned the truth, he came crawling back to me with tears streaming down his face, begging for forgiveness. By then, I had already moved on with my life and wanted nothing to do with him.

After five years of marriage, I received a wedding invitation from abroad. The groom is my husband, Arnold Willowstream. The bride is my younger sister, Yasmine Cooper. In disbelief, I decide to fly to Ainland and witness the wedding for myself. But the moment I see Arnold holding Yasmine and kissing her deeply, my heart shatters completely. Fireworks explode in the sky, and glowing words appear above—"Happy Marriage, Mr. Willowstream and Ms. Yasmine." In that instant, it feels like a blade piercing straight through my chest. Watching them look so happy together, I feel like I'm the one intruding on someone else's marriage. Love is a game for two—there's no room for a third. If he's already gotten married to someone else, what place do I have left in his life? Rather than waiting to be pushed out, I choose to walk away on my own and at least keep the last shred of dignity.

As Cain Knight's mate, I watched him lead Elias Sinclair, his childhood sweetheart, onto the stage at the Black Moon Pack's annual charity gala. "In recognition of Miss Sinclair's outstanding contributions to our community," Cain announced, his voice a glacial shard as his eyes found me, "I have decided to grant her the title of this year's 'Charity Ambassador.'" An honor that had, for years, been bestowed upon the Luna by her Alpha. He shattered tradition just to humiliate me. Under the pitying gazes of the entire pack, I did not cry. I did not question him. I simply straightened my spine, set down my champagne flute, and silently turned to leave. "Let her go," I heard Cain sneer behind me. "She won't last half the night. She'll come crawling back like a beaten dog, begging for my forgiveness." A wave of derisive laughter erupted behind me. "After all these years, Lupita still uses the same tired tricks to get Alpha Cain's attention!" "I bet she'll be on her knees, pleading for Alpha Cain's forgiveness before sunrise!" But they didn't know. The person waiting to spirit me away was already at the door. This time, I would vanish from this gilded cage forever.

In our five years of marriage, my husband, Derrick Wickham, bails on me 99 times for his childhood sweetheart, Jessica Harson. This time, after he stands me up, I find two plane tickets to Frantines in his office. "I was planning to surprise you for our anniversary. Since you've already seen them, we'll just meet at the airport," he says icily. I eagerly pack and get myself ready, arriving early at the airport. I wait from the wee hours of dawn till the late hours of night, but Derrick fails to show up. Then, I see a post on Jessica's social media. "It's my birthday today. Though he doesn't have the time to go on a trip with me to Frantines, I forgive him because he brought me to the amusement park instead!" In the past, I'd have called him, crying and demanding answers. But this time, I'm truly done.

Five years later, Stella was released from prison—only to face the brutal vengeance of Joseph, the new Alpha. Convinced she had caused his father’s death, he tormented her mercilessly. Yet he never imagined the truth: the accident five years ago had been his father’s doing, and Stella had been innocent all along. Now, as Joseph realizes he’s fallen in love with her, where does that leave him?

The night before our 17th wedding attempt, my mafia husband, Rafaeal Holloway, looks at me and promises an uninterrupted wedding. He solemnly swears. "Gianna, I promise you. I told Natalia that even if the sky falls, she'll deal with it alone." I am five months pregnant by then. After three years of dating and five months carrying his child, we've never managed to make it down the aisle because he's canceled the past 16 weddings. Every single time, it's for his sworn sister, Natalia Sullivan. The first time, she claims she has a fever. I spend the whole night at the hospital, still in my wedding dress, just to find out she has a mild cold. The second time, she claims her chest hurts. Rafael abandons me mid-wedding and rushes to her side, while she's out laughing over afternoon tea with friends. The third time, she cries for fear of thunder. He bolts mid-vows and leaves me alone in a hall full of staring guests. But everything's different now. Three days ago, a letter arrived from Northern Silenzio. My father, the Don of the Rossetti family, has finally summoned me home. If Rafael walks away for Natalia one more time, I'll leave for good.