Is The Gershwin Years Based On A True Story?

She is the only female Alpha in the world, the princess of the Royal Pack. To protect her, her father insisted on homeschooling her. She longed to go to school, but her father demanded she hide her Alpha powers. So, she pretended to be a wolfless— Until she met her destined mate. But he turned out to be the heir of the largest pack, and he rejected her?! “A worthless thing with no wolf, how dare she be my mate?” — He publicly rejected her and chose another fake. Until the homecoming... Her Royal Alpha King father appeared: “Who made my daughter cry?” The once proud heir knelt before her, his voice trembling: “I’m sorry… please come back.” She chuckled and raised her gaze: “Now you know to kneel?”

The day my brother, Chester Rodney, came to the orphanage to take me home, my boyfriend Dominic Huxley looked at me coldly and said, "If you choose to acknowledge your birth family, we're over." I knew he had his pride—he could never accept the difference in our social standing. So, for him, I turned my back on the family I had yearned for my whole life. In the decades that followed, I toiled without complaint, saving every cent to help him rise to success. By the time I was not yet fifty, overwork had worn me down. Lying on my deathbed, my breathing shallow and weak, I watched Dominic on television. He was now an acclaimed scientist, just awarded the nation's highest research honor. Tears welled in his eyes as he thanked another woman. "All these years," he said, "I never felt worthy of Alicia. But now, maybe I can use this award as the prologue to a love I've owed her for decades." The "Alicia" he spoke of was the woman mistakenly switched with me at birth—the false heiress the Rodney family raised as their own. The camera zoomed out. Alicia Rodney stood radiant, graceful, and perfectly preserved by years of luxury, blushing as she accepted the trophy. "I waited for you for decades," she said sweetly, "but marriage is still something I'll need to ask my brother about." Chester, who had long taken over the family, looked at her with an indulgent tenderness tinged with something unspoken. "I was adopted by our uncle back then for one reason—to protect Alicia. Making the only princess of the Rodney family happy has always been my life's mission." Only then did I realize—everything I thought I had chosen freely, every sacrifice I made without regret, was nothing but a trap, carefully woven by two men, all for Alicia. The betrayal pierced my heart. I died without peace. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back on the very day Chester came to take me home from the orphanage. I glanced past the two men eyeing me with subtle disdain. Without hesitation, I stepped into the car. "Take me home," I said. This time, I'd send whoever stole my life back to the gutter they slithered from.

I manage to drag Jared Sheppard from death's door. Since then, I've accompanied him from his poorest times all the way to the current moment, when he's now worth tens of millions of dollars. On the day his company goes public, he gets engaged to another woman. "Gabrielle, she's different from you. She's an actual princess of the elite. I need to give her an official title, so I can't fool around with you anymore." I never bothered defending myself. It's time for this farce to end, anyway. After all, there's still a man waiting for me at home, who's been calling me his princess since I was a little girl.

I had been married for five years, but my belly remained flat—no sign of a child. Then, on my 35th birthday, I suddenly found out I was pregnant. When I shared the good news with my husband, he flew into a rage. Instead of being happy, he accused me of carrying someone else's baby. Only then did I learn he had a mistress. He even claimed he wanted a "real" child—one that truly belonged to him—with her. I thought he was just being irrational and would eventually come to his senses. After getting an amniocentesis, I immediately brought him the paternity test results to prove the baby was his. He came home acting like a changed man—hugging me, kissing me, claiming that he didn't cheat on me. The very next day, he booked a hotel and threw a banquet, announcing to all our friends and family that he was going to be a father. However, when his mistress saw the news, she completely lost it. She showed up with a group of people, blocked me in the street, and—despite my pregnancy—started punching and kicking me. "You shameless woman! How dare you carry my man's child? Are you that desperate to die?"

To prevent me from being jealous of my stepmother's son, my dad implemented a "family point system". Washing dishes earned 1 point, and getting a perfect score on a test earned 10 points. Accumulating 1000 points meant you could make a wish come true. When my stepbrother broke a vase, Dad said it was a sign of good luck and awarded him 50 points. When I insisted on going to school with a fever, Dad said I was trying to garner sympathy and deducted 100 points. I scrambled to scrape together every point I could, all for that exorbitant Math Olympiad registration form. On the day I finally accumulated enough points, my stepbrother cried and said he wanted a pair of limited-edition sneakers. Dad immediately emptied my points. "We're family. Your points are your brother's points too." I looked at the torn-up application form and jumped from the 18th-floor balcony.