After I Died A Tycoon Went Crazy

It was a full moon, and my mate, Alpha Ethan, bailed on our son's coming-of-age ceremony rehearsal. All because his Omega mistress, Scarlett, was in heat. Then, during the actual ceremony, our son Caleb was ambushed by a rival pack. By the time I heard the news, Caleb had been shot. He was dead, lying in a pool of his own blood. I knelt beside him, completely breaking down, when Ethan's voice, faking an apology, came through the mind link: "Sorry, Scarlett needs me. I'm sure Caleb can handle things. Just make sure Caleb gets some rest early, don't let him run around and mess up tomorrow's celebration." I looked at my son's broken body, my voice trembling, "He won't be running anywhere anymore." "Good," Ethan said, sounding pleased. "Scarlett's bloodline is purer. She's better suited to give the Stone Pack strong heirs. You should understand." I cut the link. After I committed my son's body to the flames, I found the secret ritual to break a mate bond and contacted a wolf I hadn't spoken to in a long, long time: "The protection wards on Stone Pack territory are down. You can make your move."

The day Eve Jones came back to town, Zac Gibson did not come home all night. The next day, I saw a post on her social media, showing a photo of two hands tightly intertwined, along with Zac’s peaceful, childlike sleeping face. When he finally came home, he threw divorce papers at me and said, "You’ve been standing in Eve’s place this whole time. Now that she’s back, it’s time for you to move on." It did not matter anymore. I was not going to live much longer anyway. Whoever wanted the title of "Mrs. Gibson" could have it. Later, I died. But Zac cried at my grave, kneeling, promising he would never hold anyone else’s hand again.

At eighteen, Ashley’s world crumbles. Her parents give her legacy to a perfect impostor. Her mate, Jason, accuses her of witchcraft and rejects her in front of the entire pack. Branded a poisoner and thrown into slavery, Ashley endures three months of brutal torment. When Jason—the very mate who condemned her—finally returns, it isn’t to save her. It’s to drain her blood… to save the girl who stole her life. Even her family agrees. But Ashley refuses to die for them. She rejects Jason, chooses herself—and pays for it with her life. Only death doesn’t keep her. Resurrected by a mysterious and dangerous man, Ashley becomes a weapon in a war she never asked to fight. Her enemies believe she’s returned for revenge. Her family fears her. Her former mate regrets her. But Ashley isn’t here to play their game. Her wolf finally awakens, so does her purpose: She is the chosen guardian—destined to reshape everything. Will she reclaim the pack that destroyed her? Or carve a new future—one forged in fire, betrayal, and blood?

One week after my death, my husband, Christopher Ford, was making love on our bed with his one true love. His face showed pure satisfaction. "Finally, I don’t have to deal with that bar hostess anymore." Later, he held my belongings, weeping with regret. "Phoebe, why haven’t you come back?" It seemed he had forgotten that he had already pushed me to my death that night. I was forced to donate my bone marrow to his one true love, and I died, along with our unborn child.

While they slice me apart, I desperately call my brother, Nathan Slade. He finally picks up as my consciousness starts to slip and answers in an annoyed voice, "What now?" "Nathan, help—" I don't get to finish before he cuts me off. "Can't you ever go a day without drama? Gemma's graduation is at the end of the month. Miss it, and I swear I'll kill you!" Then, he hangs up without a second thought. The agonizing pain swallows me whole, and my eyes close for good, tears still trailing down my cheeks. Well, good news, Nathan… You won't have to kill me because I'm already dead.

At the age when I should have been attending university, I was framed by my biological parents and sent to prison. My sister had been cruelly killed by her kidnappers when she tried to save me, and they blamed me for her death. On the day of my release, I was kidnapped and had one of my ears cut off. When I found the opportunity, I immediately called my father, asking him to save me. Instead, he snapped, saying, “You’re no longer my son! Don’t contact me!” I was then burned alive. After I died, my sister returned. However, when my parents found out that the charred corpse was mine, the family crumbled.

Millie is just the average high school kid, or so she thought, until she receives news from her mother about her father. Now she's in a race against time to save someone she loves dearly.

On Valentine’s Day, I discovered that my brother’s fiancee, Erika Gibson, was cheating on him. So, I tried to tell my brother, Nathan Clinton, about it. However, he yelled at me. He said that I was trying to ruin his relationship and told me to leave. Erika then asked her lover to deal with me, so he kidnapped me. He mocked me for being unable to speak and forced me to sell 200 roses at the night market. I asked Nathan for help, but he replied impatiently. [Moon, I can’t believe you’d lie about something like this… I don’t have time for your games.] I was accidentally hit by a truck while Nathan was having a wonderful time with Erika. Haha. I was finally free, but I wished I had a different brother.

On the day of my wedding, I was stabbed, left to die... and forgotten. While I bled in my wedding dress, my fiancé married my sister. And my adoptive family, the people who I thought loved me never even looked for me. They all moved on like I never existed. I thought my world had ended. But I refused to stay a victim. Benjamin Grey, CEO of Grey Global found me, saved me, and helped me rise again. When I thought I would get my revenge, I found out that my biological mother who had been missing for fifteen years was alive, and held captive by my adoptive parents. The more I try to find peace, the more trouble comes in. And I wished I had died that day. Maybe death would've been easier than living with everything I now know. Maybe I won't have to face all these traumas. But life had other plans.

On the day I was kidnapped, my husband was looking after his sick sweetheart. I called him, asking him for help. Yet, he merely replied coldly, "Danica, you are a bad liar." After that, he heartlessly hung up the phone call on me, causing me to get brutally murdered by the kidnappers. I failed to show up as scheduled on the day we agreed to finalize our divorce. He called me in exasperation, only for the phone call to be answered by the police. "Mr. Ferguson, are you a family member of the deceased Danica Reed?"