Tragic

Two years ago, I was one of the Disease Control Agency's best researchers. But while I was investigating a batch of virus samples with unsequenced genetic codes, my husband's true love burned me to death. She poured rubbing alcohol over the virus samples she accidentally dropped and rendered me unconscious with diethyl ether. Then, she set the lab on fire and burned everything to a crisp. When the agency's other employees led the firefighters to the scene, she cried and claimed I'd stolen the virus samples after colluding with an unknown organization. A month later, an odd and aggressive virus spread throughout the city, leading to countless deaths. My husband, Ethan Carter, denounced and severed ties with me before getting together with his true love. The whole city turned on me, crying for my blood. Everyone said I was a spy from an external power. That changes when three daring high school students accidentally stumble upon the cordoned-off lab. They discover my charred body inside.

My health was not good, but I had always wanted a child. My husband, citing concern for my health, avoided intimacy with me for a year. Then I stumbled across his private messages with another woman. [You'll spend Valentine's Day with me, right? You're not going to touch her tonight, are you?] [You know I don't like doing it just to make babies. Got you some lingerie. Wear it for me tomorrow.] That ill-fitting lace lingerie he was talking about was on my body. I'd slipped it on while he was in the shower, thinking it was a Valentine's Day surprise from him. Turned out, he hadn't bought the wrong size. He had just sent it to the wrong address. I clicked on the woman's profile. Her latest video showed her at the beach, hand in hand with the person filming. I recognized her hand instantly. It belonged to my best friend.

The year I graduated from high school, my dad brought home a woman and a child with a rose on my mom's birthday. When the child offered my mom the rose, my mom gladly accepted it, only to end her life after spending her 39th birthday. … When I got married, I told my husband, Alistair Yates, that a rose was enough to end our marriage if he wanted a divorce. Then, he tried to reassure me that our house would not have anything related to roses. … Five years later, during one of the Yates Group's tender, one of our partners had a rose pinned to her chest. When he saw this, Alistair immediately kicked her out of the company and blacklisted her. That day, I realized that marriage could actually be blissful. Yet, six months after that, I completed my new drug research. The entire corridor was full of roses when I came out of the lab. The person who had been kicked out of the company? She was standing beside Alistair with a bright smile. I looked at him coldly, but he casually said, "Maria prepared all these for you. She's your sister and she wants to make amends with you." It took me two seconds to stare at Alistair before I turned to leave. What sister? I never had one. And from today, I no longer need a husband.

I had been trying to get pregnant for six months. Ernest Marino, the Don of the Marinos, would personally make me a herbal brew every day to ensure that my body was properly nurtured. He watched me tenderly as I drank the brew and whispered into my ear, "You're a good girl, Mia. You need to drink this, no matter how bad it tastes, for the sake of our baby." When my full black hair started to fall, and my gums began to bleed for no good reason, I found out that it was not medicine I was drinking. It was an immunosuppressant. Ernest had spent six months showering me with adoration, turning me into the perfect organ donor. The herbal brew I had been consuming would make it so that the recipient, his precious stepsister with uremia, would not experience rejection symptoms. He thought that I was a woman who could be treated anyway he wanted. However, he had no idea that I was a Corleone. I was from Severia's oldest, most ruthless mafia family, the Corleones.

"Moon Goddess, I'd like to go home," says Seraphina Jarett. The Will of the Moon Goddess speaks to her in her mind. She doesn't reply in any form of language. Instead, it is a calm and saddened torrent of consciousness. "Alright, my child. Your mission is about to be completed. In a week, your soul can leave this place." The usually authoritative voice pauses for a few seconds, which is a rare occurrence. Unable to understand my choice, she says, "My child, you have a mate who loves you deeply and sees you as the light of his life. Your pup puts you first in everything. Isn't this your home now? They are your family… your pack." When Seraphina hears the word "family", her gaze lands on the Moon Pool that is in the middle of the room. At the moment, the pool is showing the Alpha of the Blackwood pack, Caelum Blackwood, and his son, Liam Blackwood, touching down in the pack's private airport.

I was the person Henry Johnson, the head of the San Nello mafia, loved more than anyone else. He loved me with absolute devotion. During our three years of marriage, he spoiled me endlessly and treated me like a princess. Yet this same man, who claimed to love me so deeply, divorced me three times, each time for the sake of his childhood sweetheart. The first time, intimate photos of them at the airport went viral. That very night, he placed the divorce papers in front of me. "Selena," he said, "Melanie's father once saved my life. I can't allow her to be condemned as a homewrecker. Let's divorce for now. Once this storm passes, we'll remarry." With my heart in pieces, I signed the papers and prepared to leave. However, at the airport, Henry stopped me. He broke down in front of me and begged, "I've already taken care of the media. Melanie has gone abroad again. I've repaid everything I owed her family. Please don't leave. Let's get married again." His tearful pleas softened my resolve. That was the first time I forgave him. The second time, he came to me looking utterly worn out. "Melanie was implicated by her boyfriend and ended up in prison," he said. "I need to bail her out as her spouse. Once she's free, we'll remarry right away." I believed him. That time, he kept his promise. He returned and remarried me. The third time, he lowered his head and hesitated, unable to look me in the eye. "Melanie is about to give birth," he said. "An unwed pregnancy would destroy her modeling career. I have to help her. This will be the last time. Once the child is settled, we'll remarry. I promise this will never happen again." I looked at him for a long time. In the end, I answered softly, "Okay." However, on the day we were meant to register our marriage again, I never appeared. Any love I still had was worn away bit by bit. In the end, I left for good, taking with me not only a broken heart, but also the unborn heir he would never know.

My husband, Lawrence Schwartz, and I were both liars. He lied to me, saying he would forget his first love, yet his phone is filled with photos of her. I lied to him, saying I would never leave, while secretly planning a future without him. A month ago, I tricked Lawrence into signing the divorce papers. Today was the final day to complete the entire divorce process.. Three hours left. I packed all my luggage and bought a plane ticket for the next day. Two hours left. I cut up every photo of us together, leaving only myself in the album. Last hour. I thought about leaving a message, then decided against it. Today marked the tenth year I had loved him and the first day I left him.

After I became a vegetable, Samuel kept me alive for two years with all sorts of tubes. I thought he couldn’t bear to let me go—until his true love returned to the country. He took my corneas and transplanted them to her. Right in front of me, he spoke to her with the utmost tenderness: “Don't worry; you'll be fine. These eyes have been prepared for you for two years.” As a result, I had an adverse reaction after the surgery and passed away. When he heard the news, his eyes turned crimson with rage, and he nearly smashed the hospital: ”Didn't you say there wouldn’t be any problems?!”

I'm playing hide-and-seek with my son when he locks me on the balcony. It's freezing outside, and my face turns blue from the cold. However, all he does is laugh at me while I call for help. He makes ugly faces at me through the glass. "You look like the stray dog downstairs, Mom! You're so ugly!" I die a frosty and terrible death. Before breathing my last breath, I see my son excitedly give my husband a video call. "Mom has frozen to death, Dad. Can you take Ms. Cole home to be my new mom now?" When I open my eyes again, I'm taken back to the moment my son wants me to play hide-and-seek with him.

Ethan and I have been in a mate bond since six years ago. He was the Alpha of our pack. Our twin pups were going to have their fifth birthday, and I wanted to set up a bloodline trust fund for them. However, due to their special positions as the Alpha’s heirs, the trust fund required a blood verification to confirm their lineage. But after the verification, I was shocked to find that our blood couldn’t blend together. It meant I wasn’t the biological mother-wolf of the twin pups. The Inheritance Officer looked at me sympathetically and said, “I’m sorry, but this trust fund can only be established by their biological mother-wolf.” I froze for a moment and said, “There must be some kind of mistake. I can call the midwife wolf who helped me deliver them to testify. I am their mother-wolf!” “As you can see, your blood isn’t merging with theirs, but their blood is merging with the Alpha’s. So these twin pups are indeed the Alpha’s. You’re not their biological mother-wolf. Let me see… Here, their biological mother-wolf should be Helena Grayback. I’m sorry. They have nothing to do with you.” Helena? I felt completely shocked. My mind went blank. I hadn’t heard that name in a long time. She was Ethan’s first love. Helena was from a pack that had a longstanding hatred for ours. They couldn’t be together back then, but now, it turned out that the twin pups I had struggled to carry and give birth to were actually Ethan and Helena’s.