Nouvelles Plot Twists & Romans Scumbag Fake Death

When I found out I was pregnant, Elroy Lousteau went all out—hired some fancy doctor, loaded me up with meds to "protect the baby." He'd never believed in anything before, but suddenly he went to church, praying like his life depends on it. "You've been through hell, babe. Once the baby's here, I swear I'll make it right." That same day, I picked up his phone by accident. "As instructed, the meds include a compound for permanent infertility. The baby will be stillborn. "Ms. Tillon's baby is healthy and will be delivered safely—as the true Lousteau heir. "Mrs. Lousteau won't suspect a thing. Your relationship's secure. You can rest assured." I looked down at my belly. He never loved me. Not really. So I made up my mind—once the divorce papers were signed, I was gone. No looking back.

Ever since I lost my Alpha, Kael, in a brutal fight with some nasty rogues, I've been raising our young son, Finn, all by myself. My old pack has been pushing me to take a new Alpha, you know, so Finn and I would have protection. But I truly believed my Mate Bond with Kael was unbreakable. Then, on the Blood Moon ceremony, the fifth anniversary of Kael's “sacrifice,” I overheard Kael's father, old Alpha Marcus, tearing into Kael's quiet twin brother, Ronan: “Kael! You damn wolf! It was Ronan who went down on Blood Moon Cliff five years ago! He was the cursed one! You faked your death, lived as Ronan, all to protect Alina? You lied to the whole pack, to your sacred mate, and your own flesh and blood! Was it worth it?!” “For five years, Elara has raised Finn from a tiny pup all alone. You gave your so-called 'niece' a fake 'father,' but did you ever think? The day you put on Ronan's mask, Finn lost his real father for good!” I felt like I'd been struck by lightning. After Kael “died,” Ronan had been the dutiful uncle, “looking after” Finn and me. I never dreamed he was Kael in disguise. And he did all this just to protect Alina, Ronan's destined mate, who was already pregnant?! That night, under the bright moon, I snuck away and sent a message to my cousin, the Head Beta of the Silver-Moon Pack: “Tell your Alpha Lucian that I, Elara, accept his courtship offer.”

During the five years I was in a vegetative state, all ten family soldiers assigned to guard me were murdered. One of them merely smoked a cigarette outside my hospital room. The next day, he was found upside down, drowned in a toilet. Another simply adjusted my pillow. The next day, he took a dive from a skyscraper rooftop. The Corleone family was in chaos, but they couldn't find a single trace of the killer. With no other choice, the ten executions, all textbook Mafia hits, became cold cases. Strangely, the very second the tenth guard's heart stopped, I opened my eyes. The first thing I did upon waking was call the FBI and turn myself in. The agents were stunned. "Miss Corleone, are you saying that while in a coma for five years, you planned and executed the murders of ten fully armed Mafia soldiers?" My fingers tapped lightly on the table, a faint smile playing on my lips. "That's right." "Being in a vegetative state only means I couldn't move." "Who ever told you that killing, something so crude, required me to get my hands dirty?"

My family goes bankrupt when I'm ten years old. Just like that, I become a fallen heir overnight. Instead of letting me struggle, my dad, Steven Hollister, raises me with even greater care. He insists that I'm the family's only hope. I spend the next eight years living like a porcelain doll. My skin can't have so much as a scratch. Every meal is measured down to the last calorie. I'm forbidden from taking gym class or touching anything sharp. If I come home with even the smallest cut or scrape, Dad berates me for days. My younger brother, Michael Hollister, on the other hand, is given complete freedom. He skips school and gets into fights. Dad barely gives him a second glance. "He'll never amount to anything," he says with a dismissive wave. "This family is counting on you." On my 18th birthday, Dad excitedly announces that the company is finally going to recover and that we'll be rich again. He throws me an extravagant birthday party, but the guest of honor is a young man about my age seated at the head of the table. During dinner, the stranger openly sizes me up from head to toe before nodding in satisfaction. I assume he's the investor who's about to save my family. That night, I happen to glance at Dad's phone just as the screen lights up. A notification shows a massive wire transfer. The payment note reads, "Final payment received. We'll deliver the goods as scheduled."