How To Decide

Did the goddess make a mistake or was I destined to suffer or should I just make a way for myself to be happy. These are questions Jane must answer while she still breathes in order not to make any mistakes or regret living.

My fiancé presented two engagement rings—one for me, one for my sister to choose first. The first was a three-carat fancy pink diamond, flown in from Antwerp, the kind that made dealers go quiet. The second was a plain platinum band, standard issue, the sort you buy off the tray as a backup. For the first time in my life, I pointed at the pink diamond. "I'll choose first this time." Dante Moretti ran his hand through my hair, the way you soothe a restless dog. "Eleanor, you know Grace has always been particular. If she can't have the best, she'd rather have nothing. You've never cared about any of this. The other one is fine." I didn't answer. My chest felt hollow. We'd grown up together—his father ran the West Coast territory, mine the East. But in Dante's eyes, I'd always been the second daughter, the one who got what Grace didn't want. Every summer, he'd cut watermelon and bring the first plate to Grace. She'd take the center slice—sweetest, seedless, deepest red. He'd push the rest toward me—the pale pink near the rind. "This part's still good. Just not as sweet." When he bought his first Maserati, Grace picked the front seat—less motion sickness. He gestured at the back. "A little tight, but you can pick either side." Even our love was secondhand. He'd loved Grace first. She chose her academic career over him. So Dante, wounded and restless, came to me. In his world, Grace was always the first choice. I looked at the platinum band and pushed it across the table. "Give them both to Grace. I don't want either."

Lucy the beloved daughter of Alpha James, has never experienced love. Whilst visiting a neighbouring pack she is thrown into a life of love, jealousy and betrayal. Torn between two, neither one wants to let her go and she can not choose between them. They are both fated to love her and while trying to navigate their complicated love triangle, she is thrown into an unexpected battle and finds herself all alone. The only way she can survive is putting her trust in a group of outcasts, who quickly become her family.

When I turn 20, my grandfather's old friend—now the richest man in the country—lays out photos of his grandsons in front of me. He says, "Pick one to be your husband." Without hesitation, I choose Nathaniel Chapman. Everyone in the room is stunned. After all, it's no secret I've always been hopelessly in love with George Chapman. I used to swear I'd marry no one but him. In my previous life, I got what I wanted—I married George. And because of that marriage, he inherited the lion's share of his grandfather's wealth. But after the wedding, he started an affair with my sister. My parents were furious and sent her abroad to study. George thought I was the one who exposed them. From then on, he hated me to my very core. Women came and went at his side, each one resembling my sister more than the last. The betrayal crushed me. I fell into deep depression. Later, he secretly replaced my medication with slow-acting poison. I died with a child in my womb—alone, bitter, and betrayed. Now, I've been reborn. This time, I choose to let them have each other. But what I don't expect is that George has been reborn too.

Eighteen-year-old Ayesha dreams of pursuing her education and building a life on her own terms. But when her traditional family arranges her marriage to Arman, the eldest son of a wealthy and influential family, her world is turned upside down. Stripped of her independence and into a household where she is treated as an outsider, Ayesha quickly learns that her worth is seen only in terms of what she can provide—not who she is. Arman, cold and distant, seems to care little for her struggles, and his family spares no opportunity to remind Ayesha of her "place." Despite their cruelty, she refuses to be crushed. With courage and determination, Ayesha begins to carve out her own identity, even in the face of hostility. As tensions rise and secrets within the household come to light, Ayesha is faced with a choice: remain trapped in a marriage that diminishes her, or fight for the freedom and self-respect she deserves. Along the way, she discovers that strength can be found in the most unexpected places—and that love, even in its most fragile form, can transform and heal. Why Me is a heart-wrenching story of resilience, self-discovery, and the power of standing up for oneself, set against the backdrop of tradition and societal expectations. is a poignant and powerful exploration of resilience, identity, and the battle for autonomy. Set against the backdrop of tradition and societal expectations, it is a moving story of finding hope, strength, and love in the darkest of times.But at the end she will find LOVE.

By the seventh year of my engagement to Tristan, he postponed our wedding for the third time. The reason was simple. His childhood sweetheart, Gabriella, had returned to the country. She had just gone through a divorce and was emotionally unstable. Tristan personally retrieved every invitation we had sent out, his tone calm and steady. "Gabby has no one by her side right now. I can't upset her at a time like this." I held the ring that had already been resized twice and asked, "What about me?" Tristan glanced at me. "You're different. You're sensible." I had been hearing that word for seven years. Sensible. When his startup failed, I sold the old house my grandmother had left me to help him pay off his debts. When he suffered a gastric hemorrhage, I stayed at the hospital for three days straight and missed my own promotion defense. When his mother said my background was too ordinary for him, he only rubbed his temples and said, "Tori, don't make this difficult for me." Every time, I nodded. He once told me that no matter how thick the fog became, he would always leave a light on for me. Until the day Gabriella stood in front of the mirror wearing my wedding dress and smiled as she asked, "Victoria, you don't mind, do you? Tristan said your wedding's being postponed anyway." Tristan stood behind her. He did not deny it. He even reached out and adjusted her veil for her. The fog lamp he had given me with his own hands sat by the display window of the bridal shop. It was still lit, illuminating someone else in the white dress I had waited seven years to wear. Only then did I realize that some roads were not lost because the fog was too thick. It was because he had never planned to come for me at all.