Independence

I opened my eyes to a sharp sting in my arm. Pushing up my sleeve, I froze. A dense line of jagged letters had been carved into the skin of my right forearm: [This house has monsters! Every time I'm killed, I'm thrown into a loop and lose all my memories. With each death, I mark my hand.] Beneath the warning, three crooked tally marks were etched deep into my arm.

Zachary Quinn suddenly develops a fondness for going to a massage parlor after I'm discharged from the hospital—I was in an accident. He excitedly tells me that the masseuse there has the best skills he's ever experienced. "They even have free food and fruits! I bring my laptop there with me to work when I get tired at the office." I don't know why he's telling me these things. He knows my father got caught cheating at a massage parlor. I hate those places. It's only later that I learn the relaxation he describes isn't what I imagined. He's long since gone bad in places that I can't see.

One night before our engagement, Darren Finch insisted on throwing a singles party aboard a cruise ship. He made it clear I wasn't invited. But in the middle of the night, I got a call saying he'd fallen overboard. Panic overtook me. Feverish and disoriented, I stumbled to the deck and dove into the sea without a second thought. The night waters were icy, sapping the strength from my limbs. As I was pulled back onto the deck, shivering and soaked, I heard laughter ring out from the crowd. Carrie Specter, Darren's childhood sweetheart, stood above me. She gave a soft, lilting laugh. "Seeing how far you're willing to go for Darren... I can finally hand him over to you without worry." At that, Darren wrapped an arm smugly around her waist. "Carrie, you really do know me best." "I told you," she beamed, "Paula would pass your test." I let out a cold laugh, slipped the engagement ring from my finger, and flung it at his face. "No, thanks. I wish you two eternal bliss. Just don't ever drag me into your drama again."

At the New Year's party, my pineapple juice is swapped for beer. To make things worse, I've just taken cephalexin, which shouldn't be mixed with alcohol. After barely surviving the ordeal, I am shocked to see my husband, Harry Grant, defending Sally Lane, who was responsible for the mix-up. "Can we please just let it go? She didn't do it on purpose," Harry pleads. However, I'm not about to forgive Sally, especially given how sketchy her relationship with my husband has always been. But Harry cuts me off with a scowl, "Enough! She's just graduated and doesn't know any better. "What's the point of holding a grudge? Do you really want to ruin her life to feel better?" he asks, clearly trying to protect her. As I watch him stand by her, my heart sinks. "Fine then, go live with her."

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.

For seven years of marriage, my Alpha mate, Cassian Blackthorn, slept with thirty-two different women, every single one of them from my circle. I didn’t know how much longer I could endure it. Even when I was seven months pregnant, as I went to my prenatal check-ups alone, I kept enduring. Alas, disaster struck without warning. Cassian’s new fling, Sophia Corwin, led a pack of rogue wolves to ambush me. I clutched my belly with all my strength, begging Sophia to spare me and my child. She only sneered. "Ha. That wasn’t me. If you’re looking for the real culprit, go find them yourself." By the time a passerby found me and rushed me to the hospital, it was already too late. My baby… had died inside me. When my mother heard the news, her heart failed. She was gone, too. These two crushing blows left my world spinning. Hatred, grief, and fury rose inside me like a tidal wave, drowning everything else. Cassian’s father, Leon Blackthorn, came to the hospital to see me. Expressionless, I stared at him. "Let me go, Leon," I said in a raw and hoarse voice. "Whatever I owed you, I’ve paid it back in full."

"Martin, you're getting married within two weeks. What are you going to do about the woman outside?" Stacy Lynd paused at those words, even as a man answered indifferently, "Just keep your mouth shut. She won't know if none of you breathe a word." Behind the door, Stacy's tears blurred her vision. Never did she expect that the man she loved for years was going to treat her like a side chick. At that point, she truly understood, and went on to burn her accounts. It was not until afterward that Stacy realized she wasn't the one who couldn't get over that doomed relationship.

Leon Vincent, the shark of Warren Street, is the one who raised me. Twelve years ago, a fire tore through the orphanage and took everything from me. He was the one who pulled me out of the flames and gave me a second chance at life. To repay him, we make a weird deal—a 99-debt contract. I have to either obey him or be abandoned 99 times. After that, the debt will be cleared. Every time he goes on a date with some high-society socialite, he'll toss another insanely expensive piece of jewelry into my safe. In just two short years after turning 18, I've accumulated 96 diamonds in my safe, each one marking the 96 times he's cast me aside. One day, his fiancee, Elena Harrington, sends me a provocative email. "Dearest Isabelle, Leon and I are finalizing the wedding invitations. Do you think velvet with gold foil or matte leather would be more elegant? The ceremony's early next month. Can't wait to see you there! Love, Elena." Right after that, Leon calls, asking me to pack his bags for the summit in Parienne tomorrow. I simply send the wedding gift I've prepared in advance—a seven-figure emerald necklace—straight to his darling Elena without any words. That night, Leon returns to the apartment and finds out what I've done. He praises me for being considerate. Late into the night, he pulls me into his arms with rare tenderness. Nothing is left between us; no clothes, no holding back. He whispers that he wants to give me a special kind of reward, one that only I can carry. Somehow, Elena discovers my pregnancy. She stands on the balcony of Vincent Estate, screaming like her life depends on it. "Leon, I'm begging you! Don't let her have that baby! If you do, I'll jump!" The cold and proud Leon begs me, for the first time, to get rid of the baby. Everyone at the party awaits my breakdown, but I just smile softly and nod. "Alright. I will." He whispers in my ear, "Our marriage is just a business arrangement. I don't even like her. Once we're divorced, I'll give you another baby." What he fails to realize is that it was never in my plans to keep this one. There are only three more times left before I pay off this life debt from when he pulled me out of that fire all those years ago. After the 99th time, I board a ship bound for Azara to join a medical research mission. From that moment on, my life will be mine alone to live for.

For three years, I was the only one allowed inside my husband, Matthew Carter's, secret room on the top floor. Until that day—when I walked in and found his young assistant there. "Matthew asked me to get things ready for his dinner party," she said, all confidence and no shame. I smiled. It turned out this was what it felt like to have my privileges as his wife trampled on. Fine. If the rules of the game had changed, then I would show everyone who the real player was. One by one, I dismantled the Carter family's most prized projects. That was when Matthew finally panicked. He demanded, "Why? We're husband and wife!" "Exactly," I said, tossing the divorce papers onto his desk. "And that's why betrayal comes with a steeper price, doesn't it?"

On the day of my ninth wedding attempt, my fiancé, Lucas Yearwood, leaves me jilted again. This time, I follow him. I see him holding his adoptive sister's hand as they walk into the obstetrics department. "Lucas, I dreamed that we're having a boy—he's definitely going to be as handsome as you." Watching the two of them laugh and chat like that, I feel my blood freeze. After I chased Lucas for seven years, I got a chance to use a debt of gratitude to force a marriage contract out of him. I backed him into a corner to make him marry me. Everyone thinks I can't survive without him. But this time, I hand the marriage contract back and leave him without looking back. On my wedding day, he calls me. "Viv! Where are you right now?" I'm in the shower. My new husband picks up the call for me. "Do you have business with my wife?" Later, I hear Lucas turned all of Riverville upside down, digging through every trash can to find our marriage contract.