Bias

When my husband, Jared Hunt, receives a promotion that requires him to travel to Belmont, a big city, he submits a list of family members who will be traveling with him to the organization. He has submitted two names; the first one being our son, Jackson Hunt, and the second being a knowledgeable young woman, Sabrina Hayes. She's a friend who has traveled to the village with him in the first place. Life in the village is difficult. There's no way Jared will let Jackson suffer in the village. As for Sabrina, he has already given her his word to take her back to Belmont a long time ago. But when it comes to me, his actual wife, he thinks I should be gracious and offer the opportunity of traveling to Belmont to others. "It's completely useless for a country bumpkin like you to go to Belmont. Sabrina is very knowledgeable, so she's a more suitable candidate. Jackson and I will come back for you when an opportunity comes up in the future." As I listen to Jared's perfunctory explanation, I can feel my heart breaking. But what Jared doesn't know is that I'm not a country bumpkin despite having lived in the village longer than him. The truth is, I'm the talent that Belmont wants the most. The promotion that Jared cherishes the most is actually something that I don't want.

The day my husband, Ethan Hart, posted wedding photos in a bridal gown with the college girl he was sponsoring on his social media, I didn't fly into hysterics like I usually did. Instead, I gave them a like. I even left a comment: [Such a perfect match. Let's all wish the newlyweds a lifetime of happiness.] People in our circle said I was the most pathetic wife alive, letting the mistress walk all over me without resistance. A week later, he came home and explained, "It was just an act. Her grandfather is sick. Before he dies, he wants to see her get married." I nodded calmly. "I didn't take it seriously. I believe you." In my previous life, I had stormed into their wedding ceremony that very day and caused a scene, ruining their wedding. To punish me, Ethan went after my parents' company. He drove them into bankruptcy and forced them to jump to their deaths. And I was sent to a mental hospital by that woman, tortured until I truly went insane. So in this life, reborn with everything laid bare, I no longer crave his love. All I want is his money. Every time he cheats, I transfer a portion of the assets under his name. Three chances remain. After that, he will have nothing left.

After being reborn into a new world, the system assigned me four male leads and a mission to complete. As long as I successfully won over one of them, I would be able to come back to life, as I had died in a car accident in my original world. However, I failed with all four. Every one of them fell in love with the female lead of that world instead. Because of that, they turned their hostility toward me, hurling cruel words and even telling me to die. In the end, I failed my mission, and I chose to leave that world. Only when they saw my body did they completely break down.

Cleo Carrington used to be Northvale's brightest spark—wild, fearless, impossible to pin down. And then she married Damian Joubert. The most controlled, rigid heir in their world. Damian ran like a machine. Perfect standards. Zero slack. And he expected the same from his wife. Cleo loved noise—clubs, music, bodies moving. He had every venue in the city blacklist her. She loved freedom—the blazing Afriyan sun, the northern lights in Icelorn. She raced cars. She jumped out of planes. He took her passport. Shut it all down.

Ang ampon ng aking ama ay ikinulong lamang sa masikip na storage closet nang halos labinlimang minuto, ngunit tinalian niya ako at itinapon sa loob bilang parusa. Tinakpan pa niya ang ventilation gamit ang mga tuwalya. "Bilang nakatatandang kapatid ni Wendy, kung hindi mo siya kayang alagaan, marapat lamang na maranasan mo rin ang takot na naramdaman niya,” seryoso niyang sabi. Alam niyang may claustrophobia ako, ngunit ang aking mga desperadong pakiusap, ang aking matinding takot, ay sinagot lang ng malupit na sermon. "Magsilbi sana itong aral sayo para maging mabuting kapatid." Nang tuluyang lamunin ng kadiliman ang huling hibla ng liwanag, nakakaawa akong nagpumiglas. Isang linggo ang lumipas bago muling naalala ng aking ama na may anak pa siyang nakakulong at nagpasya siyang tapusin na ang aking parusa. "Sana'y naging magandang aral sa iyo ang isang linggong ito, Jennifer. Kung mangyayari pa ito muli, hindi ka na pwedeng manatili sa bahay na ito." Ngunit kailanman ay hindi niya malalaman na matagal ko nang nalanghap ang aking huling hininga sa nakakasulasok na silid na iyon. Sa kadiliman, unti-unti nang nabubulok ang aking katawan.

In eight years together, my boyfriend—Shayne Raffield—blocked me eighty-eight times. This time? Because I missed his call. At my best friend's birthday party. Usually, I'd panic-order a gift, then stand outside his office, head down, ready to beg. But today? I blocked him first. The Chat Feed popped up, loud as ever: [Nooo, Ley-Bae, don't block Shay-Shay! He's just got abandonment issues. Comfort him!] [Shay's heart = shattered; Eyes = red. Ley, go! One pout and he's yours again!] Then Shayne called. Didn't say a word. Just breathed for ten seconds and hung up. The Chat Feed freaked out. [AHHHH SHAY LOVES LEY SO MUCH HE JUST SUCKS AT SAYING IT. THIS COWARD'S GONNA LOSE HIS GIRL.]

A plane crash tore my husband and his twin brother apart. One survived. One did not. When I rushed to the hospital, I saw my brother-in-law, who had just survived the crash, locked in a passionate kiss with his wife. My husband? He lay lifeless in the morgue. Blinded by grief, I stumbled down the stairs…and lost the child I had spent three years longing for. Three years passed. Just as I was finally learning to breathe without him, I overheard a conversation between his closest friend and my brother-in-law: "How long do you plan to keep pretending to be your brother? Alicia is your legal wife." He adjusted his glasses, voice icy and distant. "I swore to my brother I'd protect Emily for the rest of my life. I am him now. As for Alicia… let her be the debt I carry into my next life." That's when I learned the truth. It was the brother-in-law who died in the crash. My husband, the man I had mourned all those years, had taken on his brother's identity to stay by Emily's side, the unattainable woman he had always secretly loved. So then what about me? The woman clinging to old memories, living in torture for three years. What was I to him?

I had anemia, so getting pregnant was not easy for me. My husband and I tried for ten years, and we finally had a son. When our son turned eight, he got into a car accident. The doctor said that he needed a blood transfusion, but his blood type was A. Both my husband and I were type O. My husband started to suspect that the child was not his and did a paternity test right away. The result showed that the boy really was not his son. I could not believe it and asked for another test, but the result was the same. My mother-in-law accused me of cheating and called me horrible names. My husband asked for a divorce and told me to leave with nothing except my son. We were kicked out of the house and ended up living in a cave in the mountains. A sudden rainstorm caused a landslide, and my son and I were buried alive inside. After I died, my spirit stayed near my husband. I heard him talking on the phone. “Don’t worry. I made her leave with nothing. We’ll get our marriage certificate tomorrow.” It turned out he had been seeing another woman for a while and had planned everything to make me leave with nothing except my son. What I could not figure out was how he managed to fake the paternity test in front of everyone. Luckily, I returned to the past. I woke up on the day of my son’s car accident.

My family was attacked by rogue wolves when we entered their territory. My wolf was gravely injured, and in the end, I was the one who saved everyone.
As I collapsed, exhausted, no one came to me—they all ran to my adopted sister, Fiona, fussing over a few shallow scratches.
By the time pack members carried me to the infirmary, the healer delivered the cruel news: my wolf had been struck by a silver dagger, and the one-month-old pup in my womb wouldn’t survive.
Yet my mate, Luke, had given the only life-saving treatment to Fiona. With no other choice, I refused the healer’s remedies and numbed my wolf’s pain with crude herbs—knowing it would only buy us three days before death.
In those last days, I let everything go. I gave Fiona all my possessions and insurance money while my parents smiled in approval. I signed the bond-severing agreement Luke slid across the table without a second thought. Luke was satisfied, believing I was considerate. Kane, my brother, nodded his head when I told him to give my room to Fiona.
Even my son, Jim, squealed with joy when I asked him to call her “mom.” No one questioned why I gave all my belongings to Fiona, and their approving gazes said it all: “Good. The old Emma is back. But as the clock ticked down, one thought haunted me:
When they find our bodies—my wolf and my unborn pup—will that satisfaction turn to regret?

After failing the task of winning Spencer Greene’s affection, I was bound to the Perfect Partner System and became his perfect wife. When rumors spread about him and Zoey Xander, I stepped up to clear his name. When Zoey accused me, he let it slide, and I took the blame and apologized. Even when he got Zoey pregnant, I stayed quiet. I calmly handed him the divorce papers and gave Zoey the title of Mrs. Greene. But he was not pleased. He pinned me down on the bed with eyes full of anger. “Zara, I only wanted you to behave! I never wanted you to push me away. “Are you blaming me now?” I froze and stared at him in shock. “Isn’t this what you wanted?”