Faked My Death

After five years of being mated to Alpha Lucas, I finally got pregnant. Lucas and I were ecstatic, but five months into the pregnancy, I suffered an accidental miscarriage. The Chief Healer told me it was because my wolf was too weak. I couldn't handle the news and blacked out. The usually stoic Alpha couldn't stop weeping. I thought he was as devastated as I was. That was until I accidentally overheard his conversation with his Beta. "Alpha, why gag the healer? Luna clearly ingested Wolfsbane. Why aren't we hunting down the culprit?" Beta Marcus's voice was full of confusion. "We bury this." Lucas's voice was heavy with suppressed pain. "It was Isabella. She slipped Wolfsbane into Emily's tonic by mistake. Isabella suffered severe brain damage saving me three years ago; she has the mind of a five-year-old. She can't tell the difference between Wolfsbane and Moon Grass..." "She just wanted to help brew the tonic to help Emily get better, to make me happy. But if the Council catches wind of this, they will absolutely execute Isabella for murdering the Alpha heir." Ever since Isabella saved his life three years ago and became mentally regressed, she had shamelessly invaded our lives. On stormy nights, she would crawl into Lucas's bed wearing translucent lingerie, crying that she was scared, forcing Lucas to hold her all night while I was relegated to the guest room. He always said Isabella was brain-damaged, stuck with the IQ of a five-year-old, just like a child. He treated her like a sister and told me not to hold it against her. Since you loved your Isabella so much, I would grant you your wish. I picked up the private phone I hadn't used in five years. "I regret it. I'm willing to return to the Royal Pack. Come get me tomorrow." But when I truly disappeared, the once arrogant Alpha killed his precious Isabella and begged me to come back.

At our college graduation, my fiance suddenly proposed to Lillie Stewart, my best friend, in front of everyone. I became a joke in front of everyone. Right after Lillie accepted my fiance’s proposal, Lloyd Becker, heir to the biggest mafia family on the West Coast, publicly said he loved me. Lloyd was known in the mafia world for being serious and never getting involved with women. So, when he showed an interest in an orphan like me, it made the news. We got married, and for five years, he was so sweet and treated me like a princess. But one day, I accidentally overheard him talking to his friend. “Lillie is already set to become the future lady of the Gacira family. Are you really going to keep the act up with Nelly?” “If I can’t have Lillie, it doesn’t matter who I marry. As long as I’m with Nelly, Lillie can live peacefully.” He even gave Lillie the symbol of the Becker family’s lady. He helped Lillie build her career while letting me fade into the background. After five years of marriage, I finally understood. On our fifth anniversary, I pretended to die in a shooting so he could be with the woman he truly loved. But instead of being happy, Lloyd completely broke down.

My mate Jackson died saving me in the great fire. I couldn't accept the truth that he was gone, so I decided to end my life by jumping into the silver pit. But the Alpha David saved me—twice—while making his rounds among the soldiers. He stayed by my side, comforting me, afraid I might try to take my life again. Slowly, I began to accept the idea of being claimed by him. But then, at his birthday party, I overheard something that shattered me. "I want to claim her as my Luna," he said, "but I still can't compete with her deceased mate, even after being with her for three years. She always pulls away when I get close, and I give up each time because I don't want to force her. But if she were to die for me... my wolf would be overjoyed—he would finally have found his fated mate, someone willing to die for him." I was stunned—especially by the plan he revealed next. So, before he could put it into action, I decided to fake my own death. That day, dressed in a wedding gown, I walked into the sea right in front of him. Later, I heard he went mad, deploying every soldier he could to search for me. But when all efforts failed, he was left alone, kneeling by the shore, sobbing like a broken mate— the sea answering him with only silence.

In my previous life, my husband had suddenly died of a brain hemorrhage, leaving behind a massive mountain of debt. For the sake of my son, who was still in high school, I sold the house my parents had left me, gritted my teeth, and worked three jobs to pay off the debt. Overworked and exhausted, my health deteriorated, and I eventually collapsed in the hospital. From my bed, I could hear my son, now a graduate from a prestigious university, smiling as he spoke on the phone. "Hello? Dad, it's me. Yeah, she's about to die. I bought insurance for her, so we should get close to one million. You and Aunt Rena should come back home right away." The "Aunt Rena" he spoke of was none other than my husband's childhood friend and neighbor who had known him for years. It turned out that the debts were all part of a massive money-laundering scheme between my husband and his childhood sweetheart. They had fabricated false accounts to hide their crime, and he had faked his death to escape the law. My son, eager to become the heir to wealth, had stood by and watched me work myself to death. When I next opened my eyes, I was back in the moment of my husband's feigned brain hemorrhage, the day it had all begun.

Mom, Dad, and Jesse—my younger sister—went out to sea on a trip, but they were caught in a tsunami, and all three perished in the accident. I was left all alone—just as I was about to start university—burdened with nothing but a mountain of debt. In the end, everything I had saved for my university tuition, along with the house Mom and Dad had left me, was taken by debt collectors. I was then forced to work in a shady factory, laboring 16 hours a day, sleeping in a shabby ten-person dorm, and surviving on nothing but thin, flavorless broth. I finally cleared the last of the debt when I accidentally discovered that Jesse—who was supposed to be dead—had appeared on television and become a famous dancer. Mom and Dad even gave an interview about her success. It turned out they had taken out a massive loan and faked their deaths to flee to Pravia for Jesse's dance studies, leaving the entire debt for me to deal with just as I was supposed to start university. I went to confront them, demanding the truth, but they threw me out like trash. I was then hit and killed by a speeding truck at the side of the road. "How could Lorraine be such a nuisance, not even having the decency to die far away from our doorstep?" I have been given another chance, reborn on the day they faked their deaths.

In the late stages of her pregnancy, my wife slipped away into the mountains with her childhood sweetheart, seeking some reckless thrill under the open sky. Fate, however, had other plans. She suffered a massive hemorrhage, and the two were rushed to the hospital. As a doctor, I took one glance at her condition and instructed the nurse to prepare for the cremation. In my previous life, I had risked everything to save her. On that very operating table, she and the child inside her perished together. Her childhood sweetheart, overcome with grief and fury, rallied others to accuse me of seeking personal revenge. Their rage was relentless, and they broke my hands. "A butcher like you, without medical ethics, deserves nothing less than eternal damnation!" they shouted, their words burning like brands on my soul. Yet I distinctly remembered—the surgery had been a success. Her vital signs had stabilized. Clinging to hope, I begged my in-laws to conduct an autopsy, to uncover the truth buried beneath the accusations. Instead, they called the police, who swiftly charged me with performing surgery under the influence of alcohol. Stripped of my rights, I was thrown into prison, where suffering became my only companion. Years later, upon release, I stumbled across a sight that tore what was left of my heart to shreds—my wife, alive and well, behind the wheel of a luxury car, accompanied by her childhood sweetheart and their child, living off the fortune I had worked tirelessly to build. Their betrayal didn't end there. Coldly and methodically, they lured me into a trap, casting me into a cement mixer to erase every trace of my existence. When I next opened my eyes, time had rewound itself. I was back on that fateful day, the one when her hemorrhage began.