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News of my groom's death arrived, but I shed no tears. Instead, I quickly reclaimed his shares and had his death officially recorded. Why? I was reborn. In my previous life, my family had adopted three boys to accompany me since childhood, all of whom were potential candidates to be my husband. As the heiress of the wealthiest family in the country, my father feared I wouldn't be happy marrying someone else we weren't familiar with. I chose Jayden, the most capable of the three brothers—but just three days after the wedding, he passed away. In my grief, I gave up on remarriage. With Jesse and Joel's persuasion, I lived the rest of my life as a widow. Upon reaching eighty, I went to Massalia, where we once pledged our love. There, I encountered Jayden…who had supposedly died sixty years ago! He was living with my maid, who had gone missing decades ago, surrounded by children and grandchildren, living a happy and contented life. When I realized I had been deceived my whole life, I was so enraged that my vision suddenly darkened. I died of a brain hemorrhage on the spot. When I awoke, I had returned to the day the news of his death had arrived. Let's see how a man who should have died intended to continue living!

My billionaire husband suffered from chronic insomnia for years. Only the sleep balm I made could help him sleep. On the night of our seventh wedding anniversary, his childhood sweetheart poured a basin of scalding water over the old camphor tree in our garden. I wept and tried to save the tree as she apologized, “I didn’t know you used its leaves to make the sleep balm.” My husband gently comforted her and ordered his men to tie me to the tree trunk instead. “What a precious tree. You’ll spend the rest of your days with it!” With my wrist fractured as a result, I filed for divorce immediately. A month later, my husband was unable to sleep late one night. He stood in the garden and stared at the withered camphor tree.

The day before my fifth wedding anniversary to my husband, the jewelry store manager called me. He reported that the expensive jewelry I had commissioned for my husband had been accidentally damaged by the staff. However, the shop was willing to pay a penalty for breach of contract. He hung up before I could lose my temper. I immediately received a message from my husband and $6 million in compensation. [So you're the shameless homewrecker. How dare you keep my husband's contact information! I'm warning you: I've given you the money, now get lost! Otherwise, I'll have to teach you a lesson!] The woman smugly sent me an intimate photo to follow up on her threats. Looking at the familiar side profile, I immediately called my biological parents, who were high-ranking businesspeople. "Dad, Mom, put the Shelby family's investment on hold for now. I'm getting a big gift ready for them!"

I'm about to get married under the witness of the Goddess of the Moon. However, Carl Erickson, my partner of ten years, doesn't know it yet. Carl has recently hired a new assistant—Ivy Keating. Everyone in the wolf pack knows something amorous is going on between them; they frequently "discuss work" until the wee hours of the night. A celebration that's supposed to be for our anniversary turns into Ivy's birthday celebration. Carl orders a ten-layer mango cream cake for the celebration—it's Ivy's favorite. They get cream everywhere, but they've forgotten I'm seriously allergic to mangoes. A regular mango is as lethal to me as wolf venom is. I'm taken away by an ambulance to be rescued, and I'm alone when I wake up. Carl is still at the party, celebrating Ivy's birthday. My wolf growls unhappily, and my love for Carl dies. It's then that I agree to the marriage my family has arranged for me. I'm going to marry a true Alpha.

For five years, I thought our marriage was solid. Then, my husband, Lionel Franco’s first love, Sandra Howard, posted a photo of a property deed on her social media. The caption read: [Thank you, Lionel, for transferring the house to me.] I stared in disbelief and left a single comment: [WTF?] Lionel called within minutes. “She’s a struggling single mother. Transferring the house to her makes it easier for her son to get into school. It doesn’t affect where we live,” he snapped. “How can you be so lacking in compassion?” In the background, I heard her muffled sobs. Half an hour later, she tagged me in another post.  This time, she flaunted her Mercedes worth over a million dollars, with the caption: [Paid in full. As the saying goes, ‘Where a man spends his money, that's where his heart is’.] I knew he bought it to soothe her temper. But this time, I had enough. I decided to divorce him.

After my father’s death, I decided to divorce my husband, Captain Marcus Hale, and stay in Pine Ridge Village forever. On the first day, I tricked Marcus into signing the divorce papers. On the fifth day, I handed in my resignation to my old unit at Fort Haven. On the seventh day, I cooked a full table of food and said farewell to all my friends. Frowning, Marcus accused me of making the very meal his childhood sweetheart, Julia Summers, hated. I stood up and raised my glass to toast her. From this day on, Marcus and I would have nothing more to do with each other. Half a month later, I saw Marcus returning from a mission in Pine Ridge Village. Only this time, the country evening breeze brought tears to his eyes.

After falling head over heels for Joe Smith for three years, I finally got the proposal I had been waiting for. However, on the day of our wedding, he did not show up until the wee hours of the morning. When I found him, Joe was drinking happily with a young girl in his arms. “I’m already tired of her clinginess. She’s a joke. Who else would want her?” Much later, he made me a wedding ring and proposed with my favorite jasmine flowers. But a muscular man opened the door instead. The man had two scratch marks on his neck and smirked at the disheveled Joe. “Isn’t it a bit too shameless of you to propose to a married woman?”

I was the fiancee of Lucian Veris, the celebrated Swan Prince, who had offered up the principal role in exchange for my hand. On stage, he was proud and untouchable, yet he surrendered completely to the choreography I created for "Eternal Crown." When I came back after three years in Valmont, I discovered that the understudy who mirrored me had already claimed our private rehearsal hall. At the company's welcome gala, Lucian abandoned a room full of sponsors just to chase after the crying understudy. From behind the velvet curtain, I overheard words he had never spoken to me. "Elara, I chose you only because you reminded me of her. I was looking for a replacement. But you were different. Your choreography captivated me—more than she ever could. Just make sure she never finds out until the closing night of 'Eternal Crown.'" Then came the muffled sounds of their entanglement, followed by his whispered vow. "I'll give you the principal's place." Right there, in that same room, he had once held my hand and sworn that I, Astraea Lynelle, would be his only soulmate in this lifetime. I turned and walked away, the sharp echo of my pointe shoes striking with finality. Back in the dressing room, I dialed his greatest rival, Caelan Thorne. "Mr. Thorne," I said evenly, "I accept your offer to join your company. And one more thing—prepare a gift for me. I intend to turn Lucian's grand finale into the most spectacular downfall the art world has ever seen."

Jonathan Shaw is busy taking his mentor's daughter, who's burning up a fever, to the hospital on the day I fall. I'm pregnant. I need to undergo surgery to stabilize the pregnancy, but it's risky. However, Jonathan's tone is icy on the other end of the line. "I know you've always been biased against my mentor, Tessa. Still, do you think you can use something like this as an excuse to get me there?" I lose hope in him as a lone tear rolls down my face. "Don't bother saving the child. Help me abort it." My love for Jonathan leaves with our child.

My husband and I go on a road trip back to my hometown before Christmas. I want to ride shotgun, but he chases me to the backseat so his female colleague can sit in front. He says, "Isabel gets carsick easily. You are my wife, so you should be more considerate of her." He seems to have forgotten that I'm pregnant—my morning sickness is at its peak. Halfway through the journey, he and Isabel Slater start smoking. They make me throw up. The smell disgusts them, and my husband wants to teach me a lesson. He and Isabel leave me at the rest stop. Unbeknownst to them, my family is already waiting there. This time, I'm going back with them and getting an abortion and divorce. Later, my husband is filled with regret when he learns the child is gone.