Nouvelles Familial Bond & Romans

To shield my sister from a street thug's iron bar after she cut class, my right leg was shattered. The infection that followed left the doctors no choice but to amputate. From that day on, I spent ten years in a wheelchair. Consumed with guilt, my sister massaged my stump every single day. My parents wiped their reddened eyes and promised that everything they owned would go to me someday, to make up for what I had lost. Then my sister won the highest international ballet award, and the whole family wept with joy. Before the ceremony, she looked at my wheelchair. Her eyes suddenly filled with tears. "This is the greatest moment of my life. If a cripple tags along, what will the press write about me? "Dad, Mom, just this once, let the three of us go together, looking our best. Please?" My parents caved in the end. Before they left, Mom was afraid I might fall, so she lashed me to the wheelchair with hemp rope. "Be good, Audrey. I put all the knives and scissors away. Don't move around. We'll bring you back egg tarts from Belem." I sat obediently in the middle of the living room and watched the front door close, then heard the lock turn from outside. That night, the old electric blanket in the bedroom short-circuited and caught fire. The flames burned their way from the bedroom into the living room. I could not break free of the ropes. I could not reach the door handle. I could not find a single thing sharp enough to cut myself loose. The fire licked up my one remaining leg. The pain was beyond anything I had ever known. I sobbed through the smoke, begging my family to save me. They hung up. On the television, my sister stood in the spotlight, her smile radiant and dazzling.

During the Spring Hunt, my Alpha mate's adopted sister, Susie Blackwood, used the bow I'd designed for him to shoot two werewolves in the forest. The wounded were rushed to the healing center. Susie was so terrified she broke down in tears. Charles Blackwood immediately paid someone to take the fall for her, then booked two flights heading north. He didn't call to let me know until after he'd landed. "Susie's not in a good place right now. I'm taking her somewhere to clear her head. Stay home while we're gone, and don't bother me unless it's important! "She needs peace and quiet." I was standing outside the emergency room, so frantic that tears streamed down my face. "You need to come to the healing center right now. Your—" Before I could finish, Charles cut me off sharply. "Is this really the time for this? You're still pulling these jealous stunts! I'm not even in the pack right now. "Don't call me unless it's important." Then he ended the call. What Charles didn't know was that the ones lying on the operating table, the ones Susie had shot, were his parents.

My little sister was murdered by her kidnappers. I watched it all happen and never said a word about who did it. My mother got on her knees and begged me. I didn't flinch. When my father threatened me with his authority as the Don, I walked away from my place as the Family heir. I moved to a small town down south. Eight years later, I was dying of a terminal illness, and my older sister, Beth Turner, had taken over the Family. Under her, the Turners had become the most powerful mafia family on the East Coast. The first thing she did when she found me was have me dragged back to the Family's tribunal. "Selena Turner, you ungrateful snake. Mia called you her sister for all those years, and you still won't name the kidnapper. "Mia's been dead for years. Don't you feel any guilt at all?!" I was on my knees in the great hall. I couldn't speak. "After all these years, I can finally extract your memories. Today, I'm going to see exactly who you've been protecting. I will avenge Mia." She ordered her men to restrain me and hook up the extractor. On the screen above the banquet hall, a face suddenly appeared. The room erupted into chaos, and Beth's face went deathly pale.

After I started college, Mom said she'd send me money in installments. "Lucia, you're an adult now. I want you to learn how to manage money, so I'll give you your living expenses in installments." I figured she meant monthly. Maybe weekly, worst case. Then move-in day came. Mom walked around the cafeteria, checked the prices, and sent $8 to my payment app. I stared at my phone. "Mom, did you send the wrong amount?" She smiled. "Silly girl. That's your lunch money for today. I checked already. Just get the cheapest grab-and-go meal. "From now on, ask me for money before each meal." I froze. So by installments, she didn't mean monthly. Or weekly. She meant one meal at a time. By day three, I stood at the breakfast counter, unable to afford a $1.50 egg. Mom still wouldn't send me anything. "I just bought Ryan a house outright yesterday. I don't have extra cash right now. Skipping one meal won't kill you." The cafeteria worker looked at me with shock and pity. Her expression crushed what was left of my pride. That day, clutching the egg the worker had given me, I started looking for a job online. But once I stopped needing Mom, she panicked.

I had been missing for twenty-five years when the Whitmore family finally found me. My mother sobbed in my arms. Vivienne told me she had never stopped searching. My father promised that Whitmore House would always be my home. I believed them. I gave up the career I had built and moved to Boston. I never resented them for continuing to love Sebastian. For twenty-five years, while everyone believed I was dead, he had been the son who stayed by their side. But they soon learned that all they had to say was, “You’re stronger than he is,” and I would step aside. So Sebastian remained the heir. He kept the East Wing and used my work to secure his place on the board. I lived in the guest suite and waited for promises that were always supposed to be fulfilled later. Then, at the dinner formally welcoming me home, the family attorney handed me a trust agreement. All I had to do was sign away any future claim to the inheritance, shares, and voting rights, ensuring that my return would never threaten anything Sebastian already had. My mother took my hand. “You wouldn’t take away the only home he’s known for twenty-five years over a piece of paper, would you?” They expected me to understand, just as I had for the past year. Instead, I returned the unsigned agreement to the attorney. “I came back because you said you loved me, not because I wanted to take anything from him.” “But if your love always requires me to be the one who gives way—” I stood. “Then I don’t want this family anymore.”

I was a stickler for rules. When I was in elementary school, we were supposed to vote for class president, but the teacher simply appointed the principal's daughter instead. Hence, I followed the school rule that whoever received the most votes would win and brought all 42 students to the principal's office to hold a proper vote. After I started working, my boss handed me a 1,500-dollar invoice and told me to claim 15,000 dollars in expenses. I told him that wasn't allowed under company policy, but he said that, in this company, the boss' word was the only rule that mattered. "You need to learn to be flexible," he claimed. "Otherwise, the company may as well replace you with someone more obedient." I nodded, wrote his exact words in the signature section, and sent a copy of the invoice to the tax authorities. "This is a new rule the company has added. It's not up to me. I'm sure you can review it." After that, no one ever asked me to break the rules again. That changed when the Collins family found me, 25 years after I went missing. On the day they officially welcomed me back into the family, I discovered that Blair, their adopted daughter, was listed ahead of me in the family trust as their eldest child. "Mom and Dad put my name there when they adopted me. It'd be difficult to change it now," Blair Collins claimed. "Surely you don't mind?" I looked her straight in the eye. "Are you asking me to accept being listed after you in the family trust so you can keep your status as the eldest daughter? Or are you saying you have no intention of giving up the inheritance and assets that legally belong to me as their firstborn daughter?" The smile on Blair's face froze. My father frowned. "It's just the order of the names. Do you really think we'd take away your inheritance?" I looked up at him. "So am I supposed to understand that my parents know perfectly well that the family rules say the legitimate eldest daughter inherits the family business, yet they're

Being locked away by my parents as a child left me with severe claustrophobia. Every time it flared up, I not only lost my voice but also lost my ability to use the mind-link with anyone in the pack. In my parents' eyes, a strong werewolf should have gotten over something that happened so long ago. Each time I lost my voice, only Alpha Caius Thorne stayed by my side. He kept notepads and pens throughout the estate and kept our conversation pinned to the top of his messages. He even learned sign language just for me. When another episode struck, I signed to him with trembling hands. "Does this ever make you tired of me?" My mate's scent enveloped me, calming my restless wolf. "Never. If anything, I'm glad we have a language that's just ours." Then Sage Mercer returned. She was a human healer and one of my closest friends. She tricked me into entering an underground stone chamber and locked me inside. The sealed space triggered another episode. I couldn't call for Caius, even though he was standing right outside the door. All I could do was sign frantically. But he acted like he didn't understand and stood there as Sage sealed the heavy stone door. Panic took over. I shifted into my wolf form and threw myself against the door with everything I had. Again and again, I slammed into it until my body was drenched in blood, yet not a single cry for help escaped my throat. Then I heard Sage speaking to Caius on the other side of the door. "Elara has to face her trauma head-on. Protecting her every time this happens won't help her get better. "A Luna represents her pack. With a condition like hers, she'll only hold you back. "Once she can call out for help on her own, we'll let her out." Caius said nothing. I understood his silence for what it was: agreement. So that was how Caius really saw me. A burden. But they had forgotten this underground chamber was designed to hold untamable beasts. Once the heavy door was sealed, almost no fresh air could get inside. No matter

After the semester began, all of my dorm mates wanted a part-time job. To fit in, I said I wanted one too. One by one, my dorm mates found part-time jobs, while I was still lazing around in the dorm. My dorm mate sent me a message. [How are you going to get by without a job?] I remembered a meme I'd seen online and texted back, "A kind middle-aged couple pays my bills, so I don't need a job right now." I didn't think much of it, until I stumbled across a post on social media. [My dorm mate said she wanted to get a part-time job, but all she does is lie around the dorm. When I asked how she could afford not to work, she said a married couple was paying all her bills. Should I report her for misconduct?] I thought it was funny. The comments gave her all kinds of advice. [Report her! What if she takes a scholarship spot from you?] [Exactly, get her expelled!] I still didn't think much of it until my academic advisor, Ethan Davis, showed up at my door. "Chloe, someone reported you for misconduct. They claim you're a sugar baby. Is that true?"

I was one month away from donating a kidney when strangers ambushed me on vacation and tried to drag me away to harvest it. I fought with everything I had, drawing a crowd of onlookers. "Miss Ashford, my mother needs a kidney transplant right now! "You took my $1.5 million and signed the agreement. Running off with the money is pretty low, don't you think?" As he spoke, his men tried to drag me into a black car. But the patient I had agreed to donate to was a man. I had signed an agreement, yes, but I had volunteered to give this kidney free of charge to the man who had saved my life. He was one of the most powerful men in New York. He would never stoop to tactics this dirty, and he had no need to. I tore free of their grip, pulled out my phone, and sent a text.

On my birthday, my fiancé, Vincent Drake, gave me an expired anti-aging serum. Meanwhile, my sister, Diana Ashford, wore the luxury diamond necklace he'd given her. She stood on stage, cutting into a custom cake he'd ordered for her worth over thirty thousand dollars. Just like every year, my parents and my fiancé were right by her side. They toasted to another happy year for her. From my corner, I stared at the anti-aging serum in my hands. It wasn't even meant for someone my age. The "sample" sticker on the back hadn't been fully peeled off. I shared the same birthday as my sister, but I was always the one who got overlooked. Even the event staff each got a slice of cake. But by the time they got to me, there was none left.

After the Silvermoon pack lost the war, the vampire prince demanded a noble she-wolf as the price of peace. Everyone knew what that meant. No she-wolf sent to the Blood Court had ever been allowed to return to her pack. Our Alpha had no daughter, so he ordered his Beta’s two daughters Evelyn and me to draw lots. Before the draw, my fiancé Rowan whispered to me, “I marked the safe parchment with a crescent moon. Choose that one.” I trusted him and I chose the crescent. But when I unfolded the parchment, two words stared back at me: VAMPIRE BRIDE. My mother pulled Evelyn into her arms in relief. “Thank the Goddess it wasn’t Evelyn.” My father showed no sympathy. “You’re the eldest. Protecting the pack is your duty.” Rowan wouldn’t meet my eyes. “You saved the Alpha’s life once. If anything happens, he’ll bring you home. Evelyn has no such protection.” They all thought I had a way back. They didn’t know I had already used the Alpha’s life debt three years ago to save Rowan from execution. The draw had never been fair. They had chosen me to be the daughter who never came home. Fine. I would leave and never return.

I was the biological son the Rhodes family had spent years searching for. Upon our reunion, all I wanted was to feel accepted. I learned to agree with everything they asked of me, no matter how unreasonable it sounded. Whenever they gave me an order, I followed it. I never questioned them. One afternoon, Reagan Rhodes, the boy who had lived as the Rhodes family's son in my absence, glanced at me and snarled in disgust. "You smell awful. Why don't you get inside the sterilization chamber and disinfect yourself?" I turned toward the industrial machine without hesitation. I stepped inside the chamber, closed the door behind me, and started the machine. My mom discovered me before it was too late. In a panic, she forced the door open and pulled me out herself. My entire body was burning, and my skin had turned an alarming shade of red. Jasmin Rhodes, my older sister, showed no sympathy when she saw me. Instead, she was visibly irritated. "Who are you trying to fool with this act? If you're serious about dying, just take an entire bottle of sleeping pills." I remembered every word. That night, I found a bottle of sleeping pills and swallowed it whole. Jasmin eventually kicked open my bedroom door. By then, I was no longer breathing. She stood frozen beside the bed, staring at my cold body while her hands shook uncontrollably. Some time later, Reagan slipped and scraped his leg. It was a minor injury, yet Jasmin immediately lost her temper with me. "If that leaves a scar on Reagan's leg, you'd better be ready to cut a piece of flesh off your own thigh to make up for it!" I grabbed a shard of broken glass nearby, pressed its sharp edge against my thigh, and cut into my flesh. My parents rushed inside moments later, screaming in horror at the sight of this. Jasmin threw herself at me and snatched the glass shard from my hand before I could continue. "I spoke in a fit of anger! I didn't actually mean it! Why would you even listen to me?" None of them understood what seven years in the mountains had done to me. Back then, defying an order never meant getting scolded or losing a few privileges. Disobedience had only one consequence: death.

To celebrate my twin sister, Tania, and me finishing our SATs, our whole family decided to take a graduation trip to Europia. When we got to the airport check-in counter, Dad had everyone's passport and ticket… except mine. He searched for it for ages. Eventually, he slapped his forehead and said, "Damn. I think I forgot to give them your name when I had my secretary book the tickets." Tania immediately tugged at the sleeve of her childhood friend, Derrick, her eyes welling with tears. "I'm sorry, Riley. I must've rushed Dad too much. Maybe I shouldn't go either." When Derrick heard her, he immediately shielded Tania behind him and looked at me with undisguised disgust. "It's not Tania's fault. If you can't go, then don't. You've always been a potato couch anyway." Mom came over and took the custom travel bag from my hands, passing it to my sister. "Riley, don't be upset at your father. Just go home. We'll definitely take you next time." She didn't even ask how I was supposed to get home with all that luggage. I watched them hurry toward security and didn't shed a single tear for the first time in my life. "Okay, I won't go. Have a safe trip," I murmured even though no one was listening. They flew to Lome while I turned around and walked straight to the domestic terminal next door. Hidden in my bag was an acceptance letter none of them had ever seen. I'd been accepted into a military academy 3,000 miles from home. And honestly, 3,000 miles was just far enough from them.

Five years after my parents' divorce, I met my mother at school. She had just finished a parent-teacher meeting for her stepdaughter, who was the top student in the grade, and was beaming with joy. The moment she saw me, her expression darkened. "Do you always come to school dressed like this? This is how your father is raising you?" She handed me a business card and said in a condescending tone, "Take this. Tell your father that I'll enroll you in the international program right away if he's willing to admit his mistake. It's better than staying in the regular program and struggling." I did not take it and took a few steps back. "No thanks, Ms. Stroll." She frowned, her eyes filled with disgust. "You're utterly hopeless, just like your father. Don't ever tell anyone you're my son." I clenched the paper in my hand and calmly watched her leave. She had no idea it was not a report card. It was my withdrawal application from school after my father's death, because I had no one else to pay my tuition for me.

The day I was released from prison, a woman claiming to be my ex-wife came to take me home. Instinctively, I pulled away when she reached for my hand. "I don't know you." She frowned, assuming I was still upset. "Five years ago, we agreed that once you got out, we'd remarry. Mom's getting older, and she misses you." Hearing that, I opened the diary I always carried with me. Written inside was an instruction: 'If someone claims to be your ex-wife, go home with her.' So, I did. After I returned home, I became the perfect husband and the perfect son in their eyes. When my ex-wife seemed to be fooling around with my younger half-brother, I pretended not to notice. When my mother openly admitted she loved my brother more, I never argued or complained. Yet, they kept asking me why I had changed. I didn't know how to answer. But the diary had made it perfectly clear: as long as I behaved and did as I was told, I could save enough money to leave quietly. What they didn't know was that I had been diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer's disease. Be it hatred or love, I'd forgotten it all long ago, them included.

Before my mother died, she arranged a marriage for me. My bride-to-be was Rosalind Young, Kingsford's most formidable financial tycoon. Before I married her, I added three clauses to the prenuptial agreement. First, no feelings. Our marriage was purely business. Second, she could live her life however she pleased, while I'd live mine. Third, I would step aside immediately if her true love ever came along. Nevertheless, I would be getting double the alimony. Rosalind was quite pleased that I knew my place. Our marriage was a peaceful one until the day a teenage girl who bore a striking resemblance to her knocked on the door of our mansion and calmly said, "Sir, I'm Rosalind's daughter. She raised me elsewhere. I'm 17."

My sister, Nancy Wood, wanted to be the family's only child, so my mother had my name changed and handed my identification documents over to my grandmother. She even told me I had to pay for everything if I wanted to live under their roof. The change and coupons Nancy got from her shopping were the sole source of allowance I'd get. If she saved 30 dollars from her shopping trips, I would get 30 dollars next month. It was the last day for all students to enter their applications for college. I begged my sister to let me use her computer. She extended her hand. "You have to pay me 20 bucks." I fished all the money out of my pocket. I only had 19 dollars. So, I hastily blurted in a panic, "I'm only one dollar short. Please!" Nancy arched her eyebrow at me and shook her head. "Don't even think about it! It's 20 bucks and not a penny less! If you can't afford it, then don't use it! It's not as if someone's pointing a gun at you for you to go to college!" My mother watched at the sidelines impassively. Then, she took Nancy's side. "She's right. You remember the rules. You can't use our stuff for free!" Time was running out. I barged into my room to scrounge for money. Fortunately, I finally found a dollar in the corner of my bed. Then, I charged right at the computer, ignoring Nancy's sullen mood. The notification froze me to my bones. "Application time is up." It expired just a minute ago. My eyes were glued to the screen, my blood turning to ice under my skin. I could distantly hear my mother comforting Nancy. "She's just some distant relative. You shouldn't get worked up over her." A surge of bitterness welled up inside me as I sent a message to my teacher, "I'll go to Lorantia." After all, I was nothing but a relative. So, I should know my place and stop troubling them any further.

My mom is the kind of person who values achievement above all else. Consequently, just because I opened my eyes a little later than my twin brother, Alan Barton, when we were born, she decided I was the inferior twin—even treating me to watery baby cereal while Alan got the best of everything. From then on, Alan always came out ahead. The whole family bent over backward to give him every advantage, while I had no one to rely on but myself. After a lot of hard work, I finally achieved my goal on the SATs, beating Alan for the very first time. But when I arrived at the college acceptance party, Alan was already holding court and toasting the guests. When I broke down, sobbing and screaming at Mom over her blatant favoritism, Alan casually mentioned that he had already been accepted to Swafford College early and only took the SATs for fun; ergo, I still lost. Mom looked at me with utter disappointment, calling me worthless. Furious and heartbroken, I ran away from home. I put myself through college and built a career entirely on my own. Just as my life is finally starting to come together, I got diagnosed with cancer, threatening both my health and livelihood. After five years of complete estrangement, I swallow my pride to ask Mom for help. Instead, Alan steps in and destroys my last chance of survival.

Every month on the 15th is the day I swap lives with Melody Foster. 18 years ago, a hospital mix-up places our IVF embryos in each other's mothers. After the truth comes out, my biological parents want their real daughter, and my adoptive parents want theirs. They arrange for Melody and me to rotate between the two homes on a monthly basis, switching every 15th. From then on, I become the burden neither family wants. In whichever home Melody stays, there are endless snacks and drinks, thousands of dollars in monthly allowance, and the sunny bedroom is always reserved for her. In whichever home I stay, there's nothing but plain meals and a windowless storage room. 18 years later, I find out I have kidney failure, and Melody turns out to be a compatible donor. My adoptive parents toss me a form to sign away my right to treatment. "We raised you, and that's more than enough. Go ask your real parents for money. You're not getting our daughter's kidney, so don't even think about it." My biological parents fall to their knees, begging. "We know we've failed you, but losing you we can live with. Melody is our whole world!" Just then, I get a call from the hospital. "Sorry, we mixed up the records again. The one with kidney failure is actually Melody." Everything clicks into place. I sell the jewelry my grandmother left me, buy a camera and a full set of gear. From now on, I'll be a lone traveler, roaming wherever the road takes me.

I'm nine years old when I secretly contact my mom Lori Parker's family to get her out of the remote village. When my grandpa, Richard Parker, bursts into the cellar, he finds Mom chained by the neck, with a whip stained with dried, dark blood lying at her feet. Overwhelmed with rage, Grandpa beats my dad, Bruce Fraser, until he is almost dead, vomiting blood repeatedly. Dad is left paralyzed and bedridden for the rest of his life. Just before getting into the car, Mom cries and reaches out to me. "Amy, I'm taking you home!" My eyes sting as I clutch the hem of her clothes, but then memories of my past life come rushing back. Her family turns against her because she protects a bastard like me. She endures their contempt and humiliation and eventually dies of illness alone in a rented room. If she takes me with her, she will never forget this nightmare. I dig my nails into my palm and push her away. "Get lost! Dad only brought you into this family because he wanted a child. I never loved you!" The car door slams shut. I finally break down and run after it, tears streaming down my face. But I don't dare call out "Mom". I'm afraid that if she hears me, she'll turn back.