Tragic Ending

When I was five months pregnant, I was kidnapped by a group of thugs. They used my phone to call my brother, Jeremy Wirkola, and my husband, Grant Sanders, to demand a ransom of ten million, but no one answered. I was tortured and assaulted until I was barely alive. When I was finally rescued, Jeremy cried and promised to avenge me. Grant was in tears too. He vowed to get me treated. However, while under the haze of anesthesia, I overheard Grant's cold voice outside the door. “Jessie is waiting for a bone marrow, but don’t forget to remove Ashlyn’s uterus. Just tell her the injuries were too severe to save it. Oh, and get the best surgeon for her. She’s afraid of pain.” His assistant hesitated. He was clearly uncomfortable. “Mr. Sanders, isn’t this going too far?” Grant paused for a second before he replied firmly. “She refused to donate her bone marrow to Jessie and even used the baby as an excuse. She’s selfish. Besides, if we don’t do this, how can I bring back Jessie and our child into the family? As for Ashlyn, she’s my wife. I’ll make it up to her for the rest of my life. She used to bully Jessie with her status, which resulted in Jessie suffering from depression and almost killing herself. It’s time she paid the price for it.” As I listened to his heartless words, something inside me shattered completely. Since they had chosen to sacrifice me for Jessie, let them have what they wanted then.

When I was six, I spilled hot water, slipped, and burned my face. My face was ruined. My parents learned their lesson and never let my younger sister do housework. To everyone they met, they praised her beauty, her charm. They turned to me with nothing but disdain. When I was ten, I had a high fever. They didn't think much of it and let it drag on until my brain was damaged, leaving me slow and dull. They learned their lesson again. From then on, if my sister so much as coughed, they would rush her to the hospital in the dead of night, showering her with care. I was like a failed experiment. Every mistake they made with me, they corrected for her. I was ugly, silent, dim-witted, unwanted. She was beautiful, sweet-talking, clever, adored by all. When I was diagnosed with depression, I gathered what little courage I had and told them. Mom lashed out, called me sick in the head, and accused me of being petty. If I was so capable, she said, I might as well die. It wasn't until my sister pushed me off a high-rise that they found out, by sheer accident, that she wasn't their child at all. I was their one and only biological child.

After eight years of marriage, I finally get pregnant with Claude Frey's child. It's my sixth round of IVF, and my last chance. The doctor says I can't put my body through it again. I'm overjoyed, ready to share the good news with him. But a week before our anniversary, I received an anonymous photo in the mail. In it, he was bending down to kiss another woman's pregnant belly. That woman is his childhood sweetheart, the one his family watched grow up. She's gentle and well-mannered, and the kind of daughter-in-law every parent dreams of. The funniest part is that his entire family knows about her pregnancy, except me. I'm just the punchline in their joke. It turns out that the marriage I've been holding together despite all my wounds is nothing but a carefully crafted lie. Fine. I don't want Claude anymore, and I'll never let my child be born into a world built on lies. I book my ticket to leave on our eighth anniversary. It's also the very day he's supposed to take me to see the sea of roses. Before we got married, he promised me a sea of flowers all my own. But instead, I find him in front of the rose garden, kissing his pregnant childhood sweetheart. After I leave, he starts searching for me everywhere. "Don't go, please?" he begs. "I was wrong. Don't leave." He finally remembers the promise he'd made to me and plants the most beautiful roses in the world in that garden. But I don't need it anymore.

We had been dating for ten years before my boyfriend, Shawn Jepson, agreed to marry me.  When the wedding photographer asked us to pose a few kissing shots, Shawn claimed he had germophobia and walked out on me.  I awkwardly apologized to the team.  Taxis were a rare commodity during blizzards, so I trudged through the snow to get home.  To my dismay, I stumbled upon Shawn tongue-deep into his crush’s throat in what was supposed to be our marital home.  “Just say the word, Casey, and I’ll leave Jessica.”  Later, word went around that Shawn searched the world for his ex-fiancee, begging her to return.

The golden boy of high society once stopped a plane for me. And I? I once ran away while pregnant, disappearing for three years. We got married. Nine years later, a younger, stunning woman appeared by his side. She was vibrant and fearless, joining him in all his wild adventures. Meanwhile, I had become a stay-at-home mom, spending my days making sure our daughter didn’t eat junk food. My husband said in disappointment, “Elaine, you’re not the woman you used to be.” Even our daughter complained. “Miss Snow is smart, gorgeous, and makes her own money. But you? You just rely on my dad.” The next morning, I grabbed my ID and filed for divorce. They must have forgotten that at twenty-two, I had the guts to jump off a cliff into the ocean just to break free, and at thirty-five, I would still have the strength to start over.

The seventh time I planned to register for marriage with Piero Conrad, he didn't show up again. I was about to text him and ask when he would arrive when I stumbled upon his childhood friend's post. [Celebrating the 999th day since marrying my dear, from the past to the future, it's always been you.] The video showed a marriage certificate, with Piero's name listed as the husband. The registration date was May 20, three years ago. I realized that was why he never showed up those seven times. He was already married to someone else.

I'm a CEO. Funny things keep happening around me after I meet a weird woman.

My husband is the perfect doctor… or so everyone thinks. However, he delays the critical treatment of an accident patient so he can accompany his first love's son. Later, he even secretly switches out a patient's medication and watches as she dies from the pain. That way, he can take her heart and perform a heart transplant for his first love's son. What he doesn't know is that the patient whose heart he's taken is his daughter's. She's disfigured in an accident after her treatment is delayed. He calls her family's phone number, hoping they'll agree to donate her body to contribute to the medical field. That's when he hears my phone ring.

After three years of secretly dating my boyfriend, I finally called my mom. "Mom, I've decided—I'm coming home to run the family business." She practically squealed through the phone. "That's such good news! But... what about your boyfriend?" I stood at the door, took a breath, and said, "Don't worry. In ten days, he's history."

In my past life, I was a rare treasure: the only she-wolf capable of bearing a pureblood werewolf heir. That singular gift made me a prize, claimed by Leon, the Alpha of the formidable Silvermoon Pack in North America. Leon's ambition burned with the desire for a child. A pureblood heir, he believed, would secure his ascension to President Alpha—the supreme leader of all North American Lycan packs. But fate, as it often does, twisted his expectations. After ten long months, I birthed a pup with gray fur and gray eyes which was different to the golden-marked purebloods. By all standards, a low-ranking wolf. Simultaneously, my sister Eve, wedded to the rival Seurin Pack, delivered a golden-furred, golden-eyed pureblood. Leon's dream of becoming President Alpha shattered in an instant. From that moment, he harbored a strong hatred for me and my pup. He forced wolfsbane down our throats and ended our lives with a silver blade in a cold merciless way. Only in my dying breath did the horrifying truth reveal itself: my own sister had stolen my gift—the ability to bear purebloods—using dark magic, claiming it as her own. Now, I am reborn. I find myself reliving the day Leon and Seurin arrived to propose marriage. Just as before, Leon chose my sister Eve without hesitation. I saw it in his eyes—he remembers everything. He, too, has been reborn. But this time, I possess the knowledge. Without me, he will never father a pup—not pureblood, not even half-blood. Not even a mutt.