Melodramatic

When I was three months pregnant, Stella Falcone, the principessa of an allied family, was also carrying another man's child. To preserve the alliance, my Mafia lover, Matteo Gallo, had to marry her. "Stella is Don Falcone's only daughter. In our world, alliances are worth more than sentiment." "Ava will understand." What Matteo forgot was that I had no one but him, and that the child I carried was the true Gallo heir. Later, as everyone mocked my unborn child, calling him a bastard who would taint the bloodline, Matteo stood by with his new bride and did nothing. That was when I learned that in this world of blood and secrets, love was the most worthless currency of all.

After my husband's brother died, he took Miranda, his widowed sister-in-law in. He claimed that he would give me his love—but gave all his money to her. He said that since she had no official status, being with him would make her the subject of gossip, so he took her with him and left me behind in the countryside. Every month, he wrote me three love letters, yet sent all his allowance to her. During the famine, she and her two children sat in a warm little house eating well, while my two children died before I could return from selling my blood. One froze to death, the other starved to death. Later, my husband finally came back, but he didn’t shed a single tear for the children. Instead, he told me he wanted a divorce. "Nathalie, to apply for housing, we need a marriage certificate. It hasn’t been easy for Miranda all these years. I want to give her a home. Don’t worry, even if I marry her, I’ll still divorce her afterward—because you’re the only one I love." In the end, I was devastated and threw myself into the icy river. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my children were about to die. This time, I shook them awake, ready to go reclaim everything that was rightfully mine.

On her first day at work, a new colleague uploaded a 500-million-dollar property purchase agreement to the company group chat. The message was accompanied by the caption: “Thanks for the gift for my first day at work, Dad!” She quickly deleted it, following up with, “Sorry, wrong chat!” I frowned, recognizing the contract immediately. It was the same property my father gifted me for my birthday a month ago. Some sharp-eyed colleagues noticed the contract number and chimed in. “I have a relative in real estate. I remember this property. Our chairman bought it recently!” “So, the heiress has joined us to experience life. Forgive your humble servant for not recognizing you!” The chat was soon filled with flattering remarks. Even my stingy and miserly husband joined in. I felt a coldness in my heart and couldn’t help but respond in the group chat, “I recall the president always opposing ostentatious displays of wealth and advocating humility. This heiress seems to veer away from his usual philosophy.” Instead of support, I faced attacks from my husband and others. “Look at you being so poor and petty. How could you ever compare to Grace? Why did I ever marry someone so shortsighted?” “As if you know the president that well! I think you’re just jealous that Grace was born with a silver spoon!” I sneered coldly and, without hesitation, dialed the president’s number right in front of everyone. “Dad, I heard we’re not that close, hmm?”

I return to the country after attending an international anesthesia academic conference. That's when I see the news of my boyfriend and twin sister getting married. I'm anxious to verify its authenticity, but my sister drugs me and induces me. "A substitute's child will only be an unwelcome bastard even if it's born. I'm just helping it move on to a better life." Then, she slices me open with a scalpel. She gouges my womb out, causing me to die from significant blood loss. Meanwhile, my boyfriend believes her lies. He's sure he's not the father of my child. He ignores my messages begging him to save me. Instead, he spreads the word about me eloping with someone else. He even wipes all traces of me from his life. "I will never see her again, forever and ever." Five years later, surveillance footage of my sister cruelly murdering me surfaces.

His precious childhood sweetheart got drunk one night and ended up in a stranger’s bed. When she showed up again, she was pregnant—just like me. On the day I gave birth, Harold handed me the divorce papers. "Rachel’s about to return to acting," he said coldly. "She and the baby need a proper title. If a scandal breaks out, it’ll destroy her." Dragging my frail body, I calmly signed the papers. In my previous life, I refused to step aside. I went live, holding my daughter, and exposed the award-winning actress Rachel Underwood for knowingly becoming the other woman. The internet turned on her. She lost every endorsement and was driven to the edge by massive fines—eventually jumping off a building. Harold quietly took care of her funeral... and then stood by as her fans harassed me in the streets, even tried to burn my child and me alive. It was not until I saw him lock the door behind us that I realized—he had wanted us dead all along. Then I woke up. And it was the day he gave me the divorce agreement... again.

My son is gravely ill. His inner wolf is too weak to awaken, and the healer warns that without the Alpha’s blood to strengthen his spirit, he may not last the next full moon. He clutches my hand, his feverish golden eyes dimming. “Mother, can Father take me to the Barnum & Bailey Circus？” But no matter how many times I summon my mate through the pack bond, he does not answer. His presence in the mind-link is an empty void. I can only hold my son as his small body trembles. I whisper stories of wolf warriors and great Alphas, but his breathing grows weaker. When the dawn breaks, his tiny fingers slip from mine. His wolf never wakes. A few days later, the scent of wild roses floods our pack’s sacred grounds. I turn—and there he is. My mate. My Alpha. He strides into the hall with my sister cradled in his arms. Her neck bears his fresh scent mark. His mark. I watch as he presses a lingering kiss to her lips, his hands caressing her like a treasure. Their love is bold, shameless—an unspoken declaration to the entire pack. And only then do I learn the truth. While my son lay fighting for his life, waiting for his father’s touch, longing for his Alpha’s strength… my mate was deep in Rose Valley, tangled in passion with my own blood. I thought my heart had long since gone cold from his neglect, but at that moment, it shatters. I make my decision. I will leave this pack. Yet just as I turn to walk away, the mate who had only ever treated me with indifference suddenly drops to his knees. A broken sob rips from his throat. For the first time, my proud, untouchable Alpha weeps.

The day I go into labor, my husband's student, Yasmin Holden, storms off in a rage. She climbs the mountains alone while heavily pregnant. For the next three days and nights, my husband disappears to look for her. Meanwhile, I suffer a difficult labor and hemorrhage badly. I'm rushed into the ICU. When I finally wake up, the doctor hands my husband a critical condition notice. He hands me divorce papers. "Yasmin is my most promising student. I can't let her do anything foolish. You're about to be a mother, so you need to be strong!" In my last life, I refused to sign. As soon as I left the maternity ward, I reported their affair to the university. Yasmin lost her graduate school recommendation and was torn apart by public scandal. In front of me, she slit her own throat. By the time my husband arrived, Yasmin was already gone—along with the baby. He quietly handled her funeral and said nothing. Then, he returned to me as if nothing had happened. I thought that meant I was finally going to have a happy ending. But one day, he drove our car off a cliff with me and our daughter inside. That day was Yasmin's death anniversary. When I open my eyes again, I'm back on the day I give birth.

That night, Liam served me my usual evening tea. I trusted him completely—he was my mate, after all, and a respected healer of Thornpack. I shouldn't have. When I woke up the next morning, my head was spinning. The special safe where I kept the morphing inhibitor—the one I'd spent my entire savings to import from Europe for our daughter Isla—was empty. Racing to the healing center, I found Liam celebrating. He was handing out moon-blessed wine, beaming with pride as Natalie's daughter Anna showed off her perfect transformation. My inhibitor had been used on his first love's pup instead of our own daughter. The shock triggered something in my brain. When I collapsed, they diagnosed me with the rare tumor that plagued our kind. Without inhibitors, I couldn't stop Isla's transformation that came early, her six year old body couldn't handle the massive wolf form and the force ripped through her young body. And I, for one, don't even have enough money to keep her in a treatment center. She died in my arms three days later, her little claws drawing blood as the pain overwhelmed her. Until her last breath, she kept asking why Papa hadn't come. Now, in my cold, empty home, with the white porcelain urn containing her ashes on the table, I touch her and decide to sever our partnership.

My fiancé wants to marry me in a pizzeria. At the same time, he promises to give his true love the rest of his life on a luxurious cruise. Our wedding is only 48 hours away, but I don't want him anymore.

My son was kidnapped by rogue wolves during training. Ethan used all his connections as Beta to finally locate him in an abandoned hunting lodge. When I burst through the door, Tyler was already lying on the ground. His chest was a bloody mess, his heart ripped out completely. I chased after the rogue wolves like a mad she-wolf, desperate to retrieve his heart, but I was too late. Unable to bear the devastation, I collapsed and fell from the cliff edge. Ethan carried me to the pack healer's den, his face deathly pale. Before the healing ritual began, he gripped my hand tightly, his voice trembling: "Serena, you can't give up. Our son is already gone. I can't lose you too..." But when I regained consciousness, I found an anonymous text message on my phone. I opened it and heard a recording. "Beta Gray, you have already found another heart donors. Why specifically choose young Tyler? He's so young, and he's your son..." "He was just a tool to save Lucas. I raised him all these years—taking one heart isn't too much to ask, is it?" "Besides, the pack healer said a blood relative's heart has the smallest chance of rejection. Lucas is mine and Vivian's life. I can't bear to see him suffer even a little." My entire body shook violently. I could barely hold the phone. The man who repeatedly claimed to love me was the murderer who killed my son for his illegitimate child with his mistress. The marriage I thought was happy was nothing but an elaborate deception.