1945 Pulitzer Winning

To the world, I was Mrs. Ward—the untouchable queen beside the mafia king of New York, Elias Ward. But I knew my husband never loved me. His heart had always belonged to Harper Dinah. His nephew’s wife. And after that nephew conveniently died, Elias brought her into our mansion, “I just want to take better care of her,” he’d said. And his version of “care” was where he’d throw a man out of a party for daring to flirt with Harper and got her pregnant. Elias likes to praise me in public like I was the perfect wife to him. And I was. I helped build his empire. I was the one who smiled and played nice. I made his casino shine while he hid Harper away like she was something sacred. Because of all that praising, one of his enemies set his sights on me. They took me. Sent Elias a message soaked in blood and threats: Back off. Leave New York. Or your pretty wife dies. Of course, Elias didn’t choose to back off.. “Just wait,” he said over the phone, “They won’t hurt you, Noa. You’re leverage. Just hold on until Harper gives birth. Then I’ll come for you.” Eight months of being held in a filthy hole, starved, beaten, degraded. The gang leader raped me over and over again. And still, Elias never came. Finally, I escaped when they were all drunk. Went home, only find my twins sleeping in the maid’s room, eating scraps while Elias was too busy hosting a party for his newborn. I didn’t confront him, just packed my babies and disappear.

I had been married for seven years. My husband's nemesis kidnapped me and threatened my husband that they would kill me, yet he ignored it because his sweetheart had asked him to use this opportunity to subdue me and teach me a lesson so that I would give away my assets. The moment I escaped that hellhole, I asked my husband for a divorce, but he claimed his sweetheart tricked him and knelt before me to beg me not to leave.

Connor Lockwood abandons me at the hospital's entrance even though I'm bleeding in the middle of my pregnancy. He insists on sending his client, a divorcée, home. The blood flows down my legs, but he hurries off without another look back. He should've been at the hospital and by my side, but instead, I see him in his client's social media update. It's captioned, "Thank goodness for my wonderful lawyer. Do you know who gets to have hangover soup when they're drunk? Me!" I spend the rest of the night wide awake. The following morning, I calmly dial a number. "Dad, I've made up my mind. I'll return home in three days to take over the company."

I'm traveling through my pack when some Rogues ambush me. They chase me without mercy. I scream for Grayson Atwell, my Alpha mate, through the mind-link. But he shuts me out, muttering something about being "busy with pack affairs". I force down my fear and run, but they catch me anyway. Just as the silver knife grazes my throat, Vidar Mallory, the guard captain, bursts in. He drives the Rogues back and takes me to the hospital. Lying in the hospital bed, I overhear Vidar talking to his men by accident. "Freya is carrying a seven-month-old pup. How could Grayson abandon her just to take care of Bella's pup?" "Bella's pup had a fever last night. Grayson stayed at the hospital the whole night." My heart shatters. Even the pup I fought so hard to conceive was lost in the accident. I decided to leave and take on an entry-level healer position at a hospital in another pack. But after I'm gone, Grayson loses his mind searching for me.

Chuck Bassett, heir to an Urbington East fortune in Nuvark City, has dated 42 girlfriends—all foreign, all in white dresses, every single one with a mole at the corner of her eyebrow. People joke about his obsession, saying he'll never get over his first love, Lylith Fowler. Then, Lorrie Scarrow shows up. She's sharp, short-haired, hates dresses, and her eyes are clear and bright. She's nothing like the women he's dated before. Chuck buys her a private island. When she mentions how much she loves the stars, he fills the sky above their estate with millions of drones, crafting a shimmering galaxy just for her. He even gets her initial tattooed beneath his collarbone. Everyone is amazed. Chuck has finally moved on from the past. Even Lorrie starts to believe it. Until she spots him in the red-light district, shelling out a fortune to book a hostess for a whole month. The woman has short hair and a button-down shirt. She looks just like Lorrie. Chuck's friends are floored. "Have you lost your mind? Lylith changed her look, and now you're after someone who looks even more like her? Remember how she dumped you for that wealthy foreign businessman when she thought you were broke? "She only came crawling back after she found out you're the heir to one of the Four Great Families. You've always said there's nothing you hate more than women like that!" Chuck knocks back the shot. "I hate her, and I love her. She pulled me out of a fire ten years ago. No one else can ever replace her in my heart." "And what about Lorrie? You proposed to her! She gave up a career at one of the world's top design firms for you. Aren't you worried she'll walk away when she finds out?" Chuck leans back on the couch, his expression cold. "I won't marry a traitor. Lorrie's pure, innocent—the closest thing to how Lylith used to be. So I'll still marry her. She loves me too much to walk away." Unseen in the shadows, Lorrie stands frozen, her heart plummeting. Turns out, she's just another her.

"A hundred million. Take it, leave my son Eric, and never come back." Luna Anya stood at the entrance of Dark Moon Manor, looking down at me, her eyes cold and full of disgust. Before, I would've burst into tears, shaking, begging, "I'm not with him for the money!" But now, I just lowered my head and said quietly, "Okay." She froze for a second, then sneered, "You pathetic Omega. At least you know your place." Back in Eric's private villa, I asked Eric, "If I left, would you search for my scent? Would you look for me?" But he just laughed, pushed me away, and said, "Who do you think you are? Go if you want. I wouldn't waste my breath on you." So, I really did leave. But a rumor started spreading through the werewolf world. Eric, the future Alpha of the Dark Moon Pack, had gone mad. He was searching the world, desperate to find the scent of a lowly Omega. "I was wrong, Sera! Please, come back!"

A car accident left my mother-in-law bleeding and desperate for help, but her plea was heartlessly rejected by her own daughter. Even on her deathbed, my mother-in-law's only wish was to see her one last time. However, she was busy staying by her first love's side, euthanizing his dog. "You better stay as far away from me as possible! My mom's perfectly fine!" she shouted before hanging up on me, only to spend the night tangled with her first love in a hotel room. It was not until after the cremation ceremony that she returned—carrying a birthday cake. What greeted her was not a celebration but her mother's funeral. She cried, sobbing uncontrollably, "Mom! You haven't even celebrated my birthday yet! Don't leave me!" I stared at her and pulled the divorce papers from my bag. How fitting. This time, I was leaving too.

Alpha Joe signed a marriage contract with me to save his heart-sick crush— in exchange for my heart. On the day of the wedding, I was pushed onto the operating table. Her heart was taken. He was kissing his bride, while I died alone on a cold hospital bed. But fate gave me a second life— I returned as the most power ful Alpha, Stephen, vowing to make every betrayer pay in blood. Alpha Joe thought I was still the helpless little Omega. He never expected me to come back— with a lethal power , and memories sharp enough to kill him.

The night before our wedding, Desmond Arlington got jumped out of nowhere. By the time I made it to the hospital, he stared at me like I was a total stranger. Doctor said it was memory loss—some brain rattle from the hit. Temporary, supposedly. So I went full nostalgia tour, dragging him back to all our spots, hoping something would click. Then one day at the hospital, I caught him running his mouth with his buddy. "Rhea's trying so hard. Doesn't that do anything for you?" "Do what? I'm over it. Same spots, same girl. The new ones are way more fun." "So why marry her? Just call it off and live your life." He snapped, "Shut up. I LOVE Rhea. I'd never bail on the wedding. I'm just... pushing it back a bit." I looked down at the test results—zero issues. Everything normal. And that's when it hit me: you can't help a faker.

After ten years together, my boyfriend bailed me and marked my sister—Rose Howell. Right after, Jack Sterling—Silvernorth's youngest professor—blasted our engagement on the academy site. We were bonded seven years. He acted like the perfect mate—quiet, loyal, like I was his whole world. Then I caught him talking to a colleague. "Rose is the most promising healer in Silvernorth now. How long are you gonna keep faking it with that she-wolf?" "For Rose to have peace, I'll keep Wyettta around. She won't dare mess with their bond." Seven years, trashed like a strategy memo. His journal? All her name. [May Rose shine.] [Let Rose be the happiest she-wolf alive.] [I'd stay mated to someone I don't love if it makes her smile.] Seven years, and I woke up in a nightmare. On our mark anniversary, I took the gondola. Sun rising. Drop, endless. Blocked the mind link. Drank the potion. Severed our mate bond. Jumped. Soon as word spread, Jack led Silvernorth's top warriors into the cliffs, launching the most brutal search the region's ever seen—trying to recover his "lost mate." He howled my name into the mountains like regret could bring me back.