Tragic Ending

I never thought a dance could bring me disaster Tonight, at the annual Moon Goddess Festival, my brother, the heir of the Silver Moon pack, Aiden, and I performed a dance together. We won a lot of applause. Aiden made me the star of the festival. Unexpectedly, after the dance, Aiden's mate came with a group of sorority members to bully me. "How dare you flirt with Aiden? Omega! "Break her legs!" “No!No!No! I am Aiden’s sister!” I tried to explain, but they gagged me. I struggled desperately, but it only provoked an even more brutal beating. "If she's so horny, strip her naked and throw her into the boys' restroom," Bella said, standing nearby with her arms crossed. Tears of despair streamed down my face. Just then, Aiden arrived. "I'll make every one of you pay for this!" he roared.

"I don't want to go with you on this business trip," Lucy Landon said at the dinner table. Her voice was calm, so calm that no one could sense anything unusual. Steven Cooper's trip was set for June 1st. It wasn't their wedding anniversary, nor was it anyone's birthday. Just an ordinary Children's Day. Three days ago, she had stumbled upon a voice message on Steven's phone. A child's soft and childish voice had said, "Daddy, for Children's Day, I want to go to Maldove to see the fishes!"

My boyfriend is summoned away by a phone call on the day he proposes to me. Once he's gone, his true love forces hard liquor down my throat with everyone watching. "You can drink on Oliver's behalf since you claim he can't drink. You've done this plenty of times over the years, anyway." I've carefully protected Oliver Sansbury for the past four years due to his heart condition. However, all I get in return is a slap to the face. Later, when I make his mother end up behind bars, he falls to his knees by my sickbed. He cries and begs me to marry him. It's too bad I'm about to die.

In my final year of high school, my parents died, leaving me nothing but a crumbling brick house. And yet, I somehow got myself a younger brother. He was a second-year student at our school, at the top of his grade. But no one respected him. Even when he was bullied, the teachers turned a blind eye. Why? Because even if others didn't beat him, his drunken father did it every day, while his cowardly mother never dared to fight back. I dragged him home with all my strength, patched up his wounds, and kept him with me for several days. Later, when his mother was beaten to death, I called the police and had his father arrested. "Hey," I told him, "from now on, live with me. I don't have any family left. Call me sister, and I'll put you through school." He dreamed of getting into a prestigious university. So I dropped out, set up a street stall, sold my own blood, and even took illegal jobs just to support him. When he graduated, he said he wanted to start a business. I gave him every cent of my savings. And then one day, I watched him stand beneath the dazzling lights, a radiant girl at his side, holding a trophy for a youth entrepreneurship award. I looked down at the cancer diagnosis in my hands. A bitter smile tugged at my lips. In the end, I had raised him into someone I could no longer reach. It was time for me to leave the stage.

My father bought twin brothers from the black market to serve as bodyguards for me and my sister. My sister chose the tall, strong older brother, leaving me with the frail, mute younger one. Feeling sorry for him, I kept him close, seeking doctors for his silence and maintaining distance to respect his apparent OCD. I thought trauma had shaped him that way. But when our father's enemies kidnapped us, he abandoned me without hesitation, choosing to die shielding my sister. In his final moments, he spoke for the first time. "You finally see me." To me, he said, "In the next life, please don't choose me." I realized then that he was neither mute nor afflicted with OCD. His silence and aversion were directed solely at me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day we chose the bodyguards. This time, I'd grant his wish.

After twenty-five years of trying to win over Gus Harding, I failed and died by his hand. But he didn't know that. He kept threatening, demanding I show myself immediately. The real heiress slapped him hard. "Genevieve is dead, and you didn't even care enough to see her one last time." Gus scoffed, claiming it was just another one of my tricks. Only when he saw my cold, lifeless body did he finally understand. I was gone for good. And this time, it drove him mad.

As a vampire, I once saved a stray wolf pup, my mortal enemy, from the streets. Little did I know that ten years later, he would lead his pack of wolves to destroy my clan and trap me in an ancient castle. Seeing my cold demeanor, he brought in a human woman as a substitute. The substitute, arrogant from her favoritism, treated me like a mere imitation, mocking me as though I was a seductress trying to mimic her appearance. She slashed my face with silverware, crushed my limbs with her boots, and then presented my bloodied form to Alex. "Honey, that wretched woman is using black magic to impersonate me. Look, she even has the same birthmark on her face!"

I'm sold into the underground and turned into an anthropodermic fan, suffering endless days of humiliation. It isn't until my spine shatters from a hammered nail that my brother—Daxon Smyth—and my fiance—Joshua Moore—finally arrive. The two men who've doted on me for 20 years swear to make the guilty pay in blood. And I think my salvation has come. But when I overhear their words, I realize the truth—every torment I've suffered is of their doing, all to make me behave and stop me from competing with the true heiress they've found. When another man carries me away from that place, they lose their minds and scour through all ends of the world, trying to find me.

“Strip off her clothes!” It never occurred to Gwen White that her husband would order a bunch of men to strip her! Throughout the ten years of crushing on him and two years of marriage, Gwen loved Jared Crawford madly, but he despised and hated her to her bones. That said, when Gwen decided to leave Jared for good, he personally brought her back from the depths of hell and begged her to start all over again...

My husband took our six-year-old son to meet his first love, using him as a cover. At some point, he sent our son to buy burn cream. My sweet boy then encountered a lunatic who stabbed him to death. The pain in my heart was unbearable. When I saw the burn cream still in my son's hand, I broke down in tears. Yet, my husband called to berate me, "Look at the son you've raised, Shayla Joy! He burned Claire and didn't even apologize. Get him back here right now!"