1945 Pulitzer Winning

For five years, I was married to Angelo Harmon, who treated me like a queen, earning the envy of everyone around us. But my dream life ended when I discovered he had a second home with a younger woman. When I confronted him, he brushed it off. "It's just a fling for excitement. You’re still my wife. What's the problem?" His callousness repulsed me, pushing me to terminate my pregnancy and walk away.

For four years I was his secretary, and for four years I warmed his bed. I knew everything, from his family business to the secrets he whispered to me at night. But to him, I was nothing more than a toy he could summon whenever he pleased. The moment his first love, Sofia Costa, flew back into the country, he humiliated me without a second thought. He kissed her in a Sicilian church, abandoned me on a rain-soaked road with a gash ten inches long on my calf, and later dismissed me with a cold, cutting line. He said I was someone unimportant, someone he could simply ignore. She waved the tulip plush he'd given her in front of me. "I'm the only one he loves. You were just a stand-in." While I rebuilt my life in Chicago and finally found some peace, this ruthless Mafia don knelt outside my door, eyes red with emotion. "Elena, come back to me." I kicked his hand away with a smile. "Your so-called devotion disgusts me."

In their fifth year of marriage,Jessica went to renew their marriage certificate. However, she was told that the certificate was fake, and her husband's legal wife was someone else. The love that had seemed inseparable for five years turned out to be a lie. When she returned home, she overheard Anthony, her husband, talking to his lawyer: "Linda is building her career abroad, and to establish herself in the business world, she needs the title of Mrs. Harris. I have to help her." "As for Jessica, she's completely devoted to me. She's already cut ties with her family for me, and she will never leave." Hearing that, Jessica's heart turned to stone. By the time Anthony brought back the real marriage certificate, Jessica had disappeared, and he was unable to find her again.

With only an hour left until the concert began, every trending topic across the internet was dominated by a single headline. [Breaking: Rising Star Tiffany Burgess to Propose to Her Manager After Ten Years of Romance, Leaving Fans in Awe.] This proposal was not just a personal milestone; it was the centerpiece of our company's most ambitious PR campaign of the year and the culmination of a love story between Tiffany and me. Then, in the fire escape, I bumped into Tiffany, dressed in her wedding gown, locked in a passionate kiss with a young man. "Wayne, let me explain," she pleaded. "Explain what?" I snorted. "That just before our proposal, you're sneaking around with another man? The proposal is live-streamed to millions, with thousands of media outlets eagerly awaiting the announcement." I slammed the engagement ring down onto the table in front of her. "After the encore tonight, you'll either propose to me on that stage, or you'll be ruined, both in reputation and career!" Her fists clenched, but in the end, she gritted her teeth and grabbed the box. "Fine." Under the spotlight, she stood before me in her wedding dress, pulling out the ring. But instead of turning to me, she held the ring up toward the guest seating area, where her true love sat. "Wayne, thank you for helping me reach the stars," she declared. "But tonight, I'm going to chase my moon." The crowd erupted in shock and confusion. In a single instant, I became the laughingstock—the unwitting prop in her grand romantic gesture. My heart shattered the moment she reached him.

I am the sole heir to the Alpha King of Northaria, but I'm an Omega. All of Northaria awaits the day I come of age, hoping I'll awaken the kind of Alpha bloodline strong enough to claim the throne. But when the day finally comes, I'm still just a low-rank Omega. So, they say that the true heir must be one of the three "pledged Alphas" my father adopted from the major tribes. Whichever one of them marks me becomes the ruler of all Northaria packs. But none of them have ever truly looked at me. The one I like most is Quin Lawson. When I fainted on the snowy plains as a child, it was he who carried me back to the pack. I've tried countless times to get close to him, only to be met with nothing but cold, contemptuous stares. I used to think he was just emotionally distant—until the Moon Goddess Festival. That night, I saw him kneel before Silvia Anderson, the daughter of my father's second-in-command. His voice is soft, and his gaze is tender. "I'm marrying Evelyn only to repay the Alpha King's kindness. Once I get the inheritance, I'll make you my Luna. As long as she doesn't harm you, I'll even grant her a piece of land to live out her life in peace. You're my true mate." The night before the marking ceremony, my father asks me who I choose. I think of the way all three of the pledged Alphas look away whenever our eyes meet. I smile and say, "I'm the rightful heir of Northaria. My mate should be someone who brings the greatest strength to our pack. And so, I choose Alpha Heath of the Pyraxis pack." The air goes still. My father frowns. "Him? Are you sure? Every one of his mates has died under mysterious circumstances. His wolf is known to be vicious—no one dares get close to him. You truly want to be his mate?"

I loved Alpha Lucien Grey with all my heart. From the moment I first saw him, I was drawn to him. However, I always knew the one Lucien loved was someone else. Her name was Summer White. I thought I’d be like one of those tragic side characters in romance stories—forever on the sidelines, watching the man I loved build a life with another woman. However, everything changed three years ago when Summer ran away on the night of the marking ceremony, saying she wasn’t ready to be claimed. Lucien had to make a decision and announced he would find a new partner. So, I stepped forward. Wearing a dress that didn’t quite fit, my hands trembling, I stood in for Summer. That day, Lucien and I formed a bond as mates. For the past three years, Lucien had treated me with warmth and kindness. He was gentle and thoughtful. He took care of me in every way. However, just over a month ago, Summer came back to our pack. On the night of our anniversary, she got drunk and called Lucien in tears, sobbing that she regretted everything. Lucien’s hands were shaking so hard he almost dropped his phone, but he didn’t hang up. He just stood there, torn. When his eyes met mine, full of confusion and pain, I took his hand—still trembling—and said softly, “Go to her.” The moment he left, I filed the mate-bond termination papers at City Hall, requesting to break the bond. After all, these years of stolen happiness were never really mine to keep. It was time for me to leave, too.

I went through 100 hormone shots for him—just to finally get pregnant. Five years begging those shots to work—all for Rafe Morello. The Don with ice in his veins... but also the guy who used to wipe sweat off my forehead in the middle of the night. Everyone thought we were goals. Then I handed over my lab results, and the nurse paused, blinking up at me. "Sorry, what's your relationship to Rafe Morello? There's already a pregnancy under his wife's name." I froze. Carmela Vitale. His dead brother's wife. Spouse listed: Rafe Morello. Breathing? Suddenly optional. No tears. No drama. I just slid off my ring and tucked it into my bag. Then I called the number buried at the bottom of my drawer. My voice? Freakishly calm. "Yeah. Three days. Pick me up." It wasn't about revenge. I left because I finally got it—some people, you gotta cut loose if you ever wanna stop bleeding. Three days later, he walked into a silent bedroom. On the nightstand: my wedding ring, the signed divorce papers, and a copy of the ultrasound. He sat on the floor and just... kept rubbing that ring. Regret doesn't knock. It floods. And that night, it drowned every lie he thought he could get away with. That was when he finally figured it out—love could wreck a person worse than hate ever could.

After an unexpected miscarriage, I left my ward in search of Victor. I saw him inside the doctor’s office. Just as I was about to knock on the door, I overheard their conversation. “Give my wife a hysterectomy. I don’t need her to bear me any children.” Victor Gayes pulled the woman beside him to face the doctor, his hand rubbing her belly. “The baby inside her belly will be my only child. You must protect it no matter what.” I knew the woman very well. She was Victor’s secretary of three years, Rachel Aniston. Victor reminded the doctor again and again, sternly and anxiously. “You have to give her the best medicine. I won’t allow anything to go wrong with this baby!” I pulled my hand back, all my blood running cold. To think Victor would do something so heartless to me, just after I lost our baby. To think my faith in him would become a dagger, stabbed straight into my heart. If love had another face, it would probably be letting these feelings go with a smile.

"Chloe, when you were younger, our family arranged a marriage for you. Now that you're almost recovered from your illness, would you be willing to return to Kingston City and marry?" "If you still don't agree, I'll talk to your father and cancel the engagement." In the dimly lit room, Chloe could only hear silence. Just as the person on the other end of the line thought they would not be able to convince her, she suddenly spoke up. "I'm willing to go back and get married." Her mom, Felicia, froze, clearly surprised. "You... you agree?" Chloe's tone was calm. "I agree, but I still need a little time to wrap things up in Marina City. I'll be back within two weeks. Mom, please go ahead and start preparing for the wedding." After a few more words, Chloe hung up the phone.

I was dying from my fear of heights, but my husband, Don Vincent, was busy with his assistant, savoring the latest coffee flown in from Hawaii that morning. "You're a grown woman, Bella. What's the big deal? You're stuck on a roof, figure it out." Then he hung up on me. I collapsed onto the hot tar of the roof, my body shaking uncontrollably before everything went black. It was two hours before building security found me. When I got home, I asked Vincent for a divorce. He rubbed his temples, his patience worn thin, looking at me as if I were a child throwing a tantrum. "Over a cup of coffee? I told you, the heights are all in your head. You’re perfectly safe now. Stop making a scene alright? What's this nonsense about a divorce? I have more important things to deal with. Calm yourself down." I stared at his back as he left, tears already streaming down my face. Something important? Did he really think I couldn't hear his assistant, Sophia, murmuring in the background? Did he think I didn't know he took her to the last family gathering? I had loved Vincent for three years. Everyone knew he was the center of my world. They all thought an orphan like me could never leave him. But now, all the love I had was eclipsed by a profound, soul-crushing exhaustion. I was done. I picked up my phone and dialed a number I hadn't touched in three long years. "Uncle, book me a flight to Seattle. I'm ready to leave Vincent."