Family Story

I took my in-laws to our place for Christmas without telling my wife. It was supposed to be a surprise, but the moment George, my father-in-law, stepped into the house, my wife's assistant shoved him. He crashed into the shoe cabinet and threw out his back. "Ms. Sampson's villa doesn't let homeless people in. I can't believe you're her father-in-law. Look at you. Even a homeless guy wears better than you." I told the maid to hold George, but the male assistant stopped me again. He even shoved my mother-in-law, Diane. "You think you own this place? That's Ms. Sampson's maid. It's enough she has to serve a leech like you. You don't get to make her serve your parents." The fury consumed Diane whole, and she had a heart attack. I called my wife and asked her to come to the hospital. Wendy Sampson, however, shrugged it off. Scoffing, she said, "Zack told me everything. I can't believe you brought your parents to my house! And you want me to see your mother? She's faking her heart attack! I know she is! I want them out of my house! So what if they die? Best Christmas gift I could ever hope for."

I gave birth to my son prematurely on a train, and my fiance sold both of us off to go live with my parents’ real daughter. After I reincarnated, I watched my parents find their real daughter again, and I could not stop my tears as well as laughter. Not only did I personally get my fiance drunk, I sent him my sister’s way, and he got her pregnant. I tied up the person I hated the most in the train carriage. The station ahead was the one where I got trapped in a small village for the entirety of my last life. In this life, it was going to be her turn. Her and her child’s!

My parents’ adoptive daughter took three kids hiking with her, and they ended up dead. They wanted me to take the blame for her. My father forced me to kneel before the families of the victims and crushed my calf with his hiking pole. “These were the legs she used to take your kids hiking. I’ll make sure she never gets to hike again.” My mother legally disowned me. “Jenny will be breaking hiking records one day. I won’t let anyone bring up her shameful sister when that happens! She’s sacrificed so much for you all these years, and it’s time you paid her back.” My boyfriend promised me, “Jenny has nothing. She would not survive if she had to endure all this, but at least you have me. I’ll be here for you no matter what happens. They’re just angry, but they won’t send you to jail. You can come home once everything settles down.” To defend the reputation of my adoptive sister, he and my parents worked together to falsify evidence and send me to jail. “It’s to protect you,” they promised, “so the families don’t take revenge on you.” They did not know I had already given up on them.

On my five-year-old son Oliver's birthday, I baked him his favorite allergy-safe cake and he said he wanted my husband's secretary, Rachel, to be his mom. While I worked hard for my husband and son to have a privileged life, they went to an amusement park with Rachel to eat ice cream together. I still worked overtime to treat him when Oliver openly denied that I was his mother in the kindergarten and claimed that Rachel was his "biological mother". I still believe his assurances even after I discovered a photograph of my husband Derek and Rachel from before we met. I thought being Head Healer of Blood Moon Pack meant I could mend any wound, but some betrayals cut too deep for even the strongest magic to heal. As it is, it's time for them to know how much I paid for our perfect little family. It's time for them to pay me back for everything I've given them.

My mother-in-law lives alone. One day, her house suddenly catches on fire. It's a life-threatening situation. I call my firefighter husband several times before he answers impatiently. "I don't care why you're calling—can't it wait? I'm fixing Sophie's pipes!" I tell him about his mother being trapped in a fire, but he merely sneers. "How dare you curse my mother just to make me go home? You're insane!" He hangs up without another word. I'm left helpless. All I can do is wait for his colleagues to arrive, but they only come half an hour later. Their expressions shift to horror when they see the blazing fire. "Didn't Captain Scott say his wife was lying?" My mother-in-law dies due to the delay. My husband even misses the funeral because of his first love. I give up on him and ask for a divorce. However, he rips the divorce agreement to shreds and shatters the urn that contains his mother's ashes. "Drop the act—I would definitely go through with the divorce if not for my mother!" I laugh. He doesn't even know his mother is already dead.

During the heatwave apocalypse, I didn't die due to the heat, nor did I die in a conflict. My younger sister, Amber Carter, has a "heart of gold" by nature. She couldn't bear to see the people suffering in the apocalypse, so she gave away all the food in our cellar. After we ran out of food, Amber forced me to go look for food outside in the heat. That was how I died—from the heat outside. In this lifetime, I'm going to enjoy my ice-cold watermelon while watching Amber dig her grave with her own hands.

"You're no daughter of this pack," my mother hissed, her golden eyes flashing in the firelight. "If you can't support your Alpha sister, then get out." I should have seen it coming. In the Ashveil Pack, family means everything—unless you're me. Vera Darkthorne, the disappointment. While my perfect sister Eris got the love, the title, even my mate Cain, I got a mating ceremony where nobody showed up. Not even the man who swore he'd always be mine. That night, I ran. Now I've built a new life in Berlin's underground werewolf syndicate, where strength is the only law that matters. I've learned to fight, to lead, to make wolves twice my size back down with just a look. But when a message comes that Eris's dying, the pack demands my return. "Come home, Vera," my father's voice crackles through the phone. "Your sister needs you." I almost laugh. After everything? But this time, I'm not the weak wolf they left behind. This time, I have fangs of my own. And when wolves hunt you down, you don't run—you rip their throats out first.

In my previous life, my three sons told me they wanted to set up a Family Bond Fund for me. Each of them would deposit three thousand dollars every month. I cried with gratitude, truly believing that decades of sacrifice had finally paid off. One of them even said, "Mom, you've given us so much. It's our turn to take care of you now." However, eight years later, I was told I have uremia. That was when I discover that the bank card, which supposedly held the fund, couldn't even cover the dialysis deposit. Soon after, my eldest son video-called me. He said he wanted to buy a better apartment in a good school district. He was short of 150 thousand dollars for the down payment and asked if I could lend it to him first. My second son came to the hospital with his wife and daughter. He didn't ask about my condition at all. Instead, he kept showing off his daughter's piano competition trophy, hinting that he needed 50 thousand dollars to enroll her in a prestigious international piano program. My youngest son was even more straightforward. He said he had his eye on a limited-edition pair of sneakers and wanted me to pay 30 thousand dollars for them as a birthday gift. The moment they realized the bank account didn't have enough money, their faces fell. "We each put in three thousand dollars every month. Over eight years, that's at least eight hundred thousand dollars. Mom, are you hiding the money from us?" To force me to reveal my savings, they took turns pressuring me, switching between sweet talk and threats. They even told relatives that I had dementia and had been scammed out of my money. Unable to take it anymore, I yanked out my IV late one night and walked out of the hospital, only to be hit by a car, dying instantly. When I open my eyes again, I find myself back on the day of my hospital checkup.

Three years after being brought back to my family, I jumped off a building. As my soul floated in the air, I wanted to see how my parents and brother, who always despised me, would break down in tears, filled with regret. But my father simply shook his head indifferently and looked at my lifeless body, saying, "How childish." My mother pressed her lips together and sighed in relief, as if a burden had been lifted. My brother stood in front of the fake heiress, shielding her from the gruesome sight of my death. Even so, the fake heiress burst into tears, prompting the whole family to rush to comfort her. I stared in stunned silence for a long time before a bitter smile crossed my face. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the moment I was first brought home.

At the Mercer family's annual dinner, I accidentally wore a couture gown that belonged to Lucian's late wife. The eight-year-old boy I had raised myself, in front of every key member of the Family, threw a glass of expensive red wine all over my pure white dress. He just stood there, his cold, condescending expression a mirror of his father's. "Don't think you can become the mistress of this house just by dressing like my Mamma." "I swear, when I'm old enough to take over the family business, I'll make you disappear for good!" The cold liquid soaked through the fabric, clinging to my skin. But I felt nothing. My heart had frozen solid the moment I signed my life away eight years ago. I looked at the child I had raised as my own for eight years. There was no anger. The faintest smile touched my lips. I leaned down and whispered in his ear, "You won't have to wait that long, my little lion. I'm leaving, and it will be very soon."