The Last Anniversary

I die on my wedding night. When Zachary Gordon receives a call from the police asking him to identify my body, he snorts disdainfully. "Who cares whether she's dead? I'll be there for the funeral." "We're not joking, Mr. Gordon. You should come down here." He glances at the woman in his arms as a hint of impatience flickers in his eyes. "Fine."

On the night of our fifth wedding anniversary, I set the table, lit the candles, and waited on the couch for my husband to come home. As I scrolled through my feed to pass the time, a message notification popped up–from his old classmate, Susie Cartman. "Angela, thanks to Calvin's seed, I can finally have my own baby." The message came with a selfie–her grinning at the camera, holding up a medical slip in one hand, flashing a peace sign with the other. I touched my stomach, where our child was quietly growing. Calvin… Did you really think everything in life would always go your way?

The night before our wedding anniversary party, my husband—Harvey Clarke—receives constant calls from his first love, Cassie Moss. He responds by holding me closer, and I ask, "Aren't you going to pick up? What if it's urgent?" He firmly shakes his head and says he has already moved on. But when he receives news of her at the party, he breaks down right there and then, oblivious to the room of staring guests. When he tries to leave, I stop him in a panic, but he turns to me with a pure look of disgust. "Cassie's dead. Happy now?" The words hit me like a lightning bolt.

When Matthew Sinclair accused me of selling company secrets, I expected my girlfriend to stand by me. Instead, Selena Oxford told me to apologize. To the man who framed me. That was the moment I understood that trust was not something you pleaded for. You either had it, or you did not. I resigned the same day, cut every tie, left a ring on the table that she would never wear, and walked out of her life without looking back. I believed we would never cross paths again. Eight years later, at a black-tie banquet, Selena spotted me across the crowd. I was dancing with another woman, moving through the room as if I belonged there. In front of everyone, now known as a corporate powerhouse, she met my gaze with red-rimmed eyes and asked, "Was it for her? Is that why you left me eight years ago?"

On the night of their third wedding anniversary, Aelara watches the man she has loved since childhood drive a blade through her heart and say her sister's name as he does it. She dies on the ballroom floor making one wish — not for revenge, not for answers, just the day before everything was decided. The day before she chose wrong. Fate listens. Because Aelara is not just a king's daughter. She is the Goddess of Fate and Life, and even dying, her power answers her own prayer. Reborn to the morning of the choosing ceremony, she faces four suitors and a kingdom that expects her to name Caelan Dray the God of Conquest, the man who will one day kill her. She does not. She names Riven Ashveil, the quiet, unbothered God of Sovereignty who has spent nine years showing up for her in every way that mattered and never once asking for anything back. No one understands the choice. Caelan does not grieve it. He starts watching her instead. And Lysa, her half-sister and Caelan's secret lover, goes very still. What follows is not a simple love story. It is a slow war for a kingdom, a throne, and a goddess's life fought in corridors and courtrooms and dark divine channels by two people who believed they were owed something and could not accept that they were wrong. Riven is the most powerful god in the kingdom. But power means nothing if you do not know what is coming for you. Aelara knows. She died once already. She is not dying again.

People used to say Pierce Voss, my husband, also the boss of the largest mafia in Kingsburg, and I were the kind of couple others envied. He once lit fireworks across the entire coastline just to celebrate my birthday. He bought me a private island because I mentioned loving the ocean. He made the entire mafia respect me as the most esteemed woman in the world. He shut every woman out of his world so I would never feel insecure. I thought our love was unbreakable. After ninety-nine rounds of IVF, I finally got a positive result. I was so happy I couldn’t sleep the whole night, planning to surprise him at our tenth-anniversary party the next day. But instead, I cut into our wedding cake and found Lena Young’s pregnancy report hidden inside. She fell to her knees in front of everyone, sobbing. “Serena… I have cancer. I don’t have long. Please… let me stay with Pierce for whatever time I have left. Give my child a name.” The room erupted, with gasps, whispers, cruel amusement. And in an instant, the woman Pierce Voss had supposedly adored became the laughingstock of the entire Kingsburg city. The love I had been so proud of shattered like cheap glass. Clutching my own pregnancy report, I held back my tears and prepared to walk away with my baby, far from his world, far from the lies. But before I could escape, someone framed me for harming her. I was thrown into detention for three days. And in those three days, I lost my child. Pierce Voss lost me, and every last piece of love I ever had for him. No matter how desperately he begs later, there is no returning to who we used to be.