Bias

My mom is critically ill. Before she passes away, she wants to see me married. It takes 27 days of pleading before my boyfriend, Kyle Grayson, says yes. I wait at the city hall until the doors close, but he never shows up. That same day, his childhood sweetheart, Ruby Callahan, posts their marriage certificate online. "Time flies. Three days more and we'll be a month in." Only then does it hit me. The very first day I begged, Kyle was already Ruby's husband. Right then, a text from Kyle lights up my phone. "Holly, Ruby's family was pushing her into marriage. I couldn't stand by and watch her marry just anyone and ruin her life. We'll be divorced in three days. I'll marry you then." Three days later, he shows up at the city hall in a suit. But all he gets is a text from me. "Goodbye for good, Kyle."

At my engagement party, my cousin drugged herself and tearfully begged me to lend her my fiance for one night, so I sent the Eastons' youngest son, who had always had a thing for her, on her way. When Erin woke up and realized it wasn't my fiance, she killed herself out of shame and despair. My fiance didn't blame me; he treated me as he always had. Ridden with guilt, I took care of Erin's mother after her death. But on my wedding day, my groom turned husband had me drugged and threw me to beggars. "Erin suffered like this back then," he said coldly. "You can atone for her pain with that filthy body of yours." And so, on my wedding night, I was violated to death—with a baby in my belly. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to that night when Erin tearfully begged me to give my fiance to her.

My mother was once adored and protected by three men. As such, I had three fathers. After her death, I was raised by one of the greatest doctors, the richest man in Theala, and an award-winning actor. For 13 years, I was showered with overwhelming adoration. That was until three years ago—the day they adopted Erin, an orphan girl. From then on, they began to dote on her. When she accused me of stealing her necklace, they tore my room apart in their search, smashing my most cherished music box in the process. They only felt remorse when they saw me sobbing over the shards. As compensation, they bought me every music box they could find. When she claimed I mocked her for being an orphan, they forced me to write a hundred apology letters as punishment. They only massaged my hands in remorse upon seeing them trembling so badly that I could no longer feed myself. When Erin accused me of shredding her gown, they locked me in the dark basement, starving me for three whole days. When I was let out, they were filled with remorse upon realizing how much weight I had lost. Their bloodshot eyes watched over the grand feast they prepared as an apology. All of that lasted until Erin poisoned my cup of water. I kept coughing up blood as my body grew weaker by the day. Daniel only diagnosed me with malnutrition and made me take prescribed supplements. Unbeknownst to him, those supplements only hastened the poison's effects. After I collapsed at school, I went to the hospital for treatment. "You only have three days left to live," the doctor said. Why then… Why did my fathers drown themselves in sorrow and kill Erin after my death?

When I met Ethan Stone, his family had just gone bankrupt. He had fallen hard and was at his lowest point. I stayed with him for eight years and helped him rebuild everything. We were finally about to get married. On our engagement day, I was kidnapped by his greatest rival. When I came back safely, he held his secretary in his arms and looked at me with disgust. “Jane, you’re no longer pure.” I felt my heart sink. I let him go and chose to fall into the arms of his rival.

The silver blade sliced across my throat, and I collapsed in a spreading pool of blood. I called Ethan ninety-nine times. My brother ignored every single call, but on the ninety-ninth try, he finally picked up. “What now?” Irritation dripped from every word. “Haven’t you caused enough trouble already? I’m in the middle of planning Lyra’s coming-of-age ceremony, and if you don’t show up, I’ll make you regret it.” “Ethan, please—help me—” My voice came out broken and ragged. He hung up. I tried reaching through our blood bond, desperate for him to feel something—anything at all—but he’d severed that connection two years ago. My phone battery was dying, and I watched the last bar flicker before the screen went black. I stopped struggling. The silver blade pierced my heart, and my wolf let out one final whimper before she died with me. Days later, the patrol found a body. The face was destroyed beyond recognition, torn apart and mangled. But Ethan still recognized the scar on the wrist—the one he’d sworn he would never forget.By then, it was too late.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

I have been reborn 999 times, all to save my husband from the woman he can never forget. Each time, he hides the truth from me, only to be tricked by her into entering that room destined to go up in flames. He always dies in the fiery explosion. Nearly a thousand lifetimes pass, and I never once complain, even though loving him tears me apart. However, this time, I have made up my mind. I won't save him. This time, I will watch him die with my own eyes.

A love affair between two unlikely fellows because of the huge differences in their religion, culture and tribe. The two strange fellows met in a national youth service scheme after graduating from the university. It was love at first sight. But from a distance the love brewed till their paths crossed. Everything nearly fall apart if not that they were meant be. Destiny has a way of orchestrating events. They had no option than to tell themselves the truth which is that happiness lies with both of them coming together as one. But to make this happen the two had to wrestle down the tribal hatred, the religious acrimony, the cultural bias that nearly shattered their love. It's romantic, it's intriguing, it's fascinating, it's titillating and captivating.

My daughter, Annabelle Turner, was diagnosed with hereditary heart disease. I spent the past five years searching for a compatible heart donor for her. Now, I finally found one. Right before Annabelle is sent into the surgery room, my husband and renowned cardiologist, Gabriel Turner, tearfully makes me a promise. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll make sure Annabelle gets a shot at life again." Yet halfway through the surgery, Gabriel suddenly leaves in a hurry without giving any explanation. I stumble into the surgery room and see Annabelle lying on the operating table, covered in blood. Her chest is cut wide open, laid bare for all to see. Tyler Rotwell, Gabriel's assistant, stammers out, "Dr. Turner said… that Anna can still hold on a little longer, but Ms. Byron's son can't. "Dr. Turner took the heart that was meant for Anna and left…" I immediately break down and repeatedly call Gabriel's number, but Gabriel never answers a single call, not even when Anna's blood has completely dried… While settling my daughter's post-mortem affairs, I happen to see a newly posted update on Gabriel's childhood friend, Suzanne Byron's social media. "Turns out it was just a misdiagnosis," was what the caption read. "In that case, let's give this useless little thing to our good boy Oscar as a treat!" The video attached depicts Suzanne's dog Oscar tearing into the heart that was supposed to be donated to Annabelle. As I turn to look at Annabelle's cold body, the last shred of love I have for Gabriel starts crumbling apart. By the time Gabriel finally remembers Annabelle, whom he left on the operating table, only an empty bedroom and an urn containing her ashes would greet him…

My newlywed husband forces me, a late-stage liver cancer patient, to drink hard liquor just to please his secretary. When the secretary later stages a setup, pretending to take a knife for him, she loses too much blood. In a panic, he demands that I give her a blood transfusion. I name my price—ten million dollars. He sneers. "Your blood really is worth its weight in gold, huh?" Of course it is. A liver cancer patient's blood doesn't come cheap. Later, when his precious secretary crashes into my car, he mocks me again. "You caused the accident on purpose, didn't you? Stop pretending—you just want more money. Wendy Yaeger, you disgust me." I'm done. All I want now is to get that divorce certificate before I die, but he looks down at me with disdain. "Don't use such pathetic tricks to get my attention. You're not even qualified to negotiate with me." Fine. Once I'm dead, the marriage will end on its own.

In their four years of marriage, Ethan Sterling had always refused to visit any romantic couple destinations with his wife, Pearl Whitmore. He said she was shallow and just chasing trends. However, when his first love came back from overseas, he could not wait to take her up the legendary mountain where it was said couples who climbed it successfully would grow old together. Pearl divorced him and moved abroad. However, Ethan followed her to the new country, sobbing as he searched for her in the ruins...