How Does The Last List Of Mabel Beaumont End?

I was slowly dying from Silverthorn Wolfsbane, and there was only one cure—the Miracle Elixir. But my mate, Leo Ashford, bought it and gave it to my adoptive sister, Jane Smith. He did it because he thought I was faking my illness. I gave up on the treatment and swallowed a potent painkiller instead. It would kill me in three days by shutting down my organs. In those three days, I gave up everything. I handed over the fur manufacturing business I built from the ground up to Jane, and my parents praised me for caring about my sister. I offered to sever our mate bond, and Leo praised me for finally being sensible. When I told my son he could call Jane "mommy", he happily said that his new mommy was the best! I transferred all my savings to Jane, and no one seemed to notice anything out of the ordinary. They were just pleased with my "better behavior". "Viola is finally not so bad." I wondered—would they regret it after I was gone?

She destroyed me once. Now I own her. Ten years ago, Cassy Beaumont humiliated me in front of everyone, read my love letter aloud, made them laugh at the maid's daughter who dared to dream. Three hours later, my father died from the stress her family caused him. Now Cassy's world has crumbled. Her father's empire exposed as fraud. Her fortune gone. Her sister facing fifteen years in prison. And she's desperate enough to walk into The Gilded Cage, the city's most exclusive auction house, to sell the only thing she has left. I paid four million dollars for one night with her. She thought it was just one night. She didn't read the fine print. For the next year, Cassy Beaumont belongs to me. Body and soul. And I'm going to make sure she understands exactly what she took from me. I'm going to break her. Rebuild her. Make her beg. And when she finally realizes she can't live without me? That's when I'll decide if she deserves forgiveness. Or if some ruins are meant to stay broken.

Emma Hart thought she led an ordinary life—until a single mysterious message changes everything. When her phone flashes a countdown and a distorted voice warns her not to look outside, Emma realizes she’s caught in a deadly game she doesn’t understand. Shadows move faster than any human, storms rage with unnatural fury, and the city she calls home becomes a maze of fear and secrets. With only twelve minutes to act, Emma must uncover who—or what—is hunting her, why she was chosen, and how to survive when time itself seems to be against her. Racing against a relentless enemy, she discovers hidden powers, buried truths, and the shocking revelation that the world is far more dangerous than anyone could imagine. The Last Signal is a pulse-pounding thriller that blends suspense, supernatural mystery, and heart-stopping tension, asking one question: when the clock is ticking, who can you trust—and who is already watching from the shadows?

“Landon is here?” Mabel asked, turning to look behind her, a frown forming on her face. “Are you stalking me? Huh?” She asked drunkenly and made to climb down from the stool, but she missed her footing and fell toward Landon who instinctively caught her in his arms. Upon realizing what he had done, Landon suddenly pushed her away from his body like he had touched a bag of filth, making her fall to the ground on her butt. “Ouch!” She winced as her butt came in contact with the hard floor. Landon felt a pang of pity for her but quickly masked it. Such a shameless woman isn't worth his sympathy. She was married, yet she was drunk at a bar, flirting with a random guy. ******* What happens if your wedding was never about love but about settling an old score? Mabel never wanted an arranged marriage, but honoring her father’s dying wish left her no choice. On her wedding day, her groom, Landon Ferguson, didn’t bother to show up only sending someone in his place. Humiliated and furious, she swore never to forgive him. As the truth behind their arranged marriage comes to light, Mabel realizes too late some debts demand more than just a name on a marriage certificate. Some demand a sacrifice.

"Ms. Jones, the service to fake your death that you requested has been arranged. Here's the agreement. Please sign here." Isabella Jones glanced at the contract that the person placed before her. Client: Isabella Jones Cause of death: Falling from a mountain, eaten by wild animals. Unable to retrieve the remains of the body Time of death: One week from now One week from now would mark the fifth anniversary of her marriage to Samuel Grant. It was also the day she had planned to fake her death and leave him. Since that was the date it all began, it might as well be when it ended.

The Clan Healer told me that without the vial of Progenitor's Blood, the Blood Blight afflicting me meant I had only seventy-two hours to live. But my husband, Miles, the new Duke of our world, gave the only vial of the precious cure to my adopted sister, Vivienne, the woman I had turned three years ago. "She's in agony from the rejection, Isolde. It's a pain you can't possibly understand." His tone was self-righteous, devoid of any concern for the patch of skin on my collarbone already turning to stone. I nodded, watching as the life-saving, dark red liquid slid down another woman's throat. I accomplished a great deal in the time I had left. As I signed the documents, the lawyer's hand trembled. "Are you certain you want to transfer everything, Your Grace? The territorial rights of a thousand-year-old clan..." I didn't hesitate. "Yes. To Vivienne." My adopted daughter, Lily, the girl I had risked everything to save, who was now forever frozen at the age of eight, cowered in Vivienne's arms, pointing at me and screaming, "Aunt Vivienne is my real mommy! You're the witch who turned us into monsters!" I offered no defense. "Yes, that's right. Be a good girl and listen to your new mother now." The Progenitor's Ring, the symbol of the clan's supreme authority, now rested on Vivienne's hand. "Oh, sister, you're too kind," she sobbed, her sobs a practiced performance. "I'll be sure to protect the family in your stead." I nodded. "You'll run things better than I ever did." I even signed away my control over the Elder Council, a council sustained by my own blood. For the first time in a century, a shadow of complex emotion crossed Miles's face. He stared at me,"Isolde, stop fighting. It's better this way. You need to rest." Yes. On my deathbed, I had finally become the perfect, submissive Isolde they always wanted. An Isolde who was about to turn to dust. The seventy-two-hour countdown had begun. I wondered, when I finally turned to ash,