Bittersweet Rejection

The two childhood sweethearts swear that they'll marry no one but me, but they stand by as my dog of ten years gets killed in a car accident. I cradle the dog's mangled body, but no tears fall. Dante Battaglia stares at me in disgust and asks, "Why did you bring it home? Don't you know Anna's allergic to it?" Dario Battaglia immediately rushes over to snatch away the body in my arms. "This is a damned jinx. Get rid of it!" The Battaglia siblings and I are childhood friends. Dante became the Don, and Dario the Consigliere. I'm the precious princess in the two brothers' eyes, but everything changes with Anna's arrival. After burying the dog myself, I reply to the email inviting me to join an international classified project. The email reads, "Ms. Julia Costanza, we'd like to know if you're willing to participate in this institute's ten-year-long classified project. Upon joining, your personal information will be sealed for a decade, and you will be prohibited from contacting the outside world." I replied, "Yes, I agree."

At the banquet hall, I refuse to let my adopted twin pups eat the walnut cake. Ivana Lamont—the childhood sweetheart of my mate, Luther Hardwick—chokes up dramatically. She cries accusingly, "Yara, they may not be yours biologically, but you can't abuse them! Why won't you even let them have a slice of cake?" I'm just about to explain that the twins are allergic to nuts, but they point at me and complain in aggrieved voices. "Mommy often doesn't give us food. We never have enough to eat!" With that, I'm unceremoniously driven out of the banquet hall by the host. When I go to look for my mate to talk about it, I accidentally overhear his conversation with a friend. "Alpha Luther, it's been eight years. Are you still not going to mark Yara?" "There's no rush. I'll wait until the kids are a little older. We love each other very much, so it's fine even if I don't mark her." His friend responds disapprovingly, "You've been hiding from her that the twins are actually your and Ivana's pups. Aren't you afraid she may leave in anger if she finds out?" Luther shakes his head and replies with certainty, "She won't. Yara is an orphan, so she has no family. If she leaves me, where else can she go?" The ugly truth causes me to freeze on the spot. It turns out the pups I've loved for eight years were born to my mate and another she-wolf. What I thought was a happy life is nothing but a cold, heartless deception! I touch my belly, thinking of the pup I just conceived. My tears fall like a relentless downpour. In the shadows, I say inaudibly, "You're wrong, Luther. In fact, I found my birth parents three days ago. I just haven't had the chance to tell you. But it doesn't matter now because you don't need to know about that anymore." I have Luther sign the mate bond dissolution agreement before finalizing my withdrawal from the Sharp Teeth pack. Two days later, I give both my mate and the pups to Ivana. With the pup that Luther has never known or laid his eyes on, I disappear from his world forever.

My mate, Carter, sent me to a werewolf prison for four years. On the day I was released, he arrived holding the hand of his pregnant mistress. “This is what your parents owe me.” “From today on, you’ll take care of Amelia.” I nodded obediently. She made me pick roses with my bare hands. Made me plant a hundred pots under the scorching sun. Made me scrub my allergic, ulcerated skin with alcohol. And I did everything she asked. Until the day they brought me back to my old home. The house was gone. In its place stretched an endless rose garden. And my only sister— had become nothing but a box of ashes. That was the moment I understood. I survived not to atone. I survived to take revenge.

Waking up hungover next to my arch-nemesis – the city's most notorious fuckboy? Worst. Morning. Ever. I handled the walk of shame with icy dignity, but fate had a bigger curveball: one month later, two pink lines. My baby. My rules. His involvement? Zero. My flawless plan hit a snag when morning sickness ambushed me in the office restroom. He walked in. His eyes locked onto my still-flat stomach, darkening with something dangerous. Before I could blink, he had me pinned against the cold tile wall. "Who's the father?" he growled. I met his glare with a frosty smirk. "Wouldn't you like to know? Definitely not you." Then it happened: a hot tear hit my neck. His voice cracked, raw and desperate. "Don't... don't leave me. Please." Me: ...Dude. Seriously? THIS IS YOURS!

The day I found out I was pregnant with twins, Vincent Castellano celebrated like a man who had been handed heaven. Fireworks over Brooklyn. Vows whispered against my stomach. Promises that his empire, his loyalty, and his life were mine. That same day, I found out the hospital built in my name had been sheltering his affair. While I was throwing up and fighting to keep our babies safe, he was holding another woman in the next room. So I made my choice. I would keep the twins. But Vincent Castellano would lose all three of us.

When Eric Sutton—my charming CEO husband—found out I handed a million-dollar project to his assistant Vivien Cheney, he figured his three months of radio silence had finally broken me. Suddenly, he's all, "Let's go to Iceland for our honeymoon!" Vivien heard and threw a fit. Threatened to quit. Classic. Eric, who treated her like royalty, freaked out. After three days of begging, he bailed on the trip—said it was for "work"—then handed her my ticket. Later, he shrugged it off. "Romance's petty. Work comes first. You're my wife. You get it, right?" Right. I just stared at Vivien's new post: a couples selfie—cheek to cheek, hands shaped like a heart. I didn't say a word. Just nodded. Eric thought I was finally playing the role: calm, supportive, mature. Promised an even better honeymoon when he got back. Too bad I'd already quit. Too bad he'd already signed the divorce papers. We were done.

"I agree to the divorce," I said as I dialed my mother-in-law's number. "Matteo Bellandi will never agree to divorce me, so you need to arrange a new identity for me. I need to disappear completely. He must never find me." Despite six years of marriage, I never conceived a child. In the Mafia world, how many men remarried for the sake of an heir? Yet Matteo always stood firmly at my side. To have a child, we tried everything—ninety-nine rounds of IVF that resulted in ninety-eight failures. The final pregnancy ended in fetal demise. Matteo held me and said, "Whether we have a child or not, I will always love you." Everyone said he was deeply devoted and that I was fortunate. Even I believed it. I believed it was my body that was defective. I believed I was the one holding him back. Until that day, when I went to the hospital for a follow-up exam. I saw him with my own eyes, pushing a mobile hospital bed into a VIP suite. On the bed lay a young woman named Sienna Vale, who had just given birth, holding a pair of twins—a boy and a girl. The congratulations inside the room were sharp and piercing. They praised his good fortune and Sienna's superior genes. They said the children were born to inherit the Bellandi empire. They mocked my education and my background and said I could not produce a "high-quality" heir. "Who do you think you are, daring to speak about her? My wife is not someone you get to judge. If I hear one more word of disrespect toward my Donna, you'd better weigh the consequences yourself," Matteo rebuked them coldly, preserving my dignity as Donna. In that moment, I finally understood that the marriage I had been so proud of was nothing more than a joke in everyone else's eyes. If that was the case, I would end this love story everyone envied with my own hands.

I never expected my husband, Tony Baldino, to confess that he had cheated on me again. Six months ago, I discovered his affair. The pain was sharp, but I had resolutely signed the divorce papers, only for him to tear them up in desperation, crying at my doorstep through the rain. He swore he would never hide anything from me again, begging for a second chance. Soaked and humiliated, the high-and-mighty don of the Baldino family looked like a child abandoned by his own. Seeing him and feeling the life growing in my womb, I softened and forgave him. However, only half a year later, he betrayed me once more. This time, before I could discover it, he confessed. “It only happened once with Jane. You’re still the one I love. Don’t worry, she won’t take your place as Mrs. Baldino.” His honesty was intact. He hid nothing from me. Yet he had forgotten one thing. When we reconciled, I had made him a promise of my own. “Tony, you should understand by now that I am decisive. Once I make a decision, I will never return. I’d even vanish from your life. This time is the only exception.” Since he refuses to divorce me, I will disappear in another way.

I am Selene Moore, the fiancee of Callum Lowe, the Alpha of the Shadow Wolf pack. I am bound by a subservient love for six long years. Those werewolves back in the pack despise me, deeming me unfit to be the Luna of their pack. Callum, on the other hand, insists that I must smooth out my willful personality before proceeding with the bonding ceremony. Grandpa has been poisoned with wolfsbane and is dying, and the antidote he needs is one I can't afford. I approach Callum for help, but he dismisses me with accusations that I exploited the situation for attention. He therefore allows Natalie Anderson, his childhood friend, and her cronies to torment me. I repeatedly suffer their abuse in a desperate attempt to pay for Grandpa's treatment. In the end, Grandpa dies from poisoning, dying in despair. I become the docile woman Callum desired after Grandpa's death, and I cease my pursuit of him. I have also stopped loving him. Yet now, when the truth is laid bare, Callum seems to be filled with regret.

Four years of loving Marchello Enzo taught me one thing— it was finally time to let him go. He was the Don of the Marchello mafia empire. And I was supposed to become his Donna—his partner, his equal, the woman who stood at his side. But the moment his childhood sweetheart returned, radiant and adored, I understood something painfully simple: The title of Donna was never meant for me. It belonged to her. So before I walked away, I made three quiet decisions— First, I tossed the wedding ring he believed I treasured, and altered my million-dollar wedding dress to the measurements of the woman who had always held his heart. Second, I packed every extravagant gift he had ever given me—and donated them all to charity. They had once felt like proof of love; now they were nothing but proof of my foolishness. Third,I reclaimed a position I once abandoned for him—one I had turned down twice because he wanted me at his side. This time, I chose myself. My work. My life. A path that did not depend on his promises. On the day of his wedding, when he lifted the bride’s veil and realized it wasn’t me… the ruler of a billion-dollar underworld empire shattered. He tore the city apart looking for me— But he never found me. Because by then, I was already thousands of miles away, buried in my work, building the life he never believed I’d choose. I held the one secret he never imagined he’d lose: our child.