Ash Ketchum Pallet Town

I try seducing my fiance, Vernon Floyd, 999 times. But even when I'm shirtless, his only concern is whether I'm cold. I assume that Vernon is a traditional guy, who wants to do it until we're married. But on the day of our anniversary, I discover that he has secretly booked a hotel famous for couples' getaways in the city. That night, I arrive at the VIP suite full of hope. In the end, all I see is Vernon and his childhood sweetheart passionately kissing each other as the crowd cheers. I wait outside the VIP suite for a long time. Finally, I understand that he doesn't love me. After leaving the hotel, I call my family. "Dad, I don't want to marry Vernon anymore. I want to marry Dylan instead!" Dad spits out his coffee and says, "Avril, Mr. Walker got into a car accident a few years ago. I heard that he's impotent. If you marry him, you won't have any children!" By then, I am already disheartened. "It doesn't matter whether I have children or not."

On the fourth day after our son died, I decided to end my military marriage. Before that, I spent three days taking care of what remained of him. On the first day, I tricked my wife into signing the cremation papers. On the second day, I went to my son's school and collected the textbooks he never had the chance to use. On the third day, I prepared a table full of his favorite dishes and begged my wife to come home so we could celebrate his birthday one last time. She agreed. Then she turned around, claimed she had a mission, and spent the entire night setting off fireworks with her childhood sweetheart. That night, I sat beside my son's memorial photo and ate alone. The next day, she came home looking guilty and handed me a brand new backpack. She said it was a gift for our son to use at school. She did not know that our child would never live to see his first day of school.

On my son’s birthday, my husband had asked his first love to pick our son up from our home. While I stubbornly refused to let him go, a huge fire broke out in the hallway during our standoff. I was struck by falling debris, and blood started streaming from my head. However, my son was unharmed as he lay beneath me. My husband, who was a firefighter, came forward to rescue us. But he handed the only gas mask he had to his first love. “Miss Leia has a weaker constitution. Dad, please get her out first. Mom, wait for the other firefighters to save you!” I watched them leave with a faint, bitter smile. It appeared that they had both forgotten my severe asthma and the fact that I would die without a gas mask.

My mother fell critically ill and was rushed to the hospital. Desperate, I knelt before my fiancé—the department's chief surgeon—and begged him to take charge of her operation. But outside the ICU, he was carefully tending to a scraped knee. Lucy Wendell's scraped knee, to be exact. Just as I was drowning in hopelessness, Cameron Mitchell—the hospital director and my childhood friend—pushed open the operating room doors and handed me a marriage proposal. "Marry me, and I'll personally perform your mother's surgery." With trembling hands, I signed my name, clinging to the last shred of hope that she could be saved. But she never made it through that stormy night. Cameron handled all the funeral arrangements himself, and our wedding proceeded as scheduled. Seven years later, in the hushed silence of the hospital archives, I overheard Cameron speaking with the deputy director. "Cameron, why did you transfer your mother-in-law's organ to Lucy's mother during that surgery? Weren't you afraid of getting caught?" "I owed Lucy," he replied. "If I hadn't hesitated back then, Lucy never would've chosen medical aid work in Africa… and her mother wouldn't have fallen ill from the grief."

Happily married for 2 years, I thought all his grumpiness lately was only temporary. Maybe not the richest man, but he definitely puts his work as his priority, and I want to support him with all I have. I gave all the millions of dollars of my family wealth to him to build up his company, and didn't regret that. I love him. All I wanted was a family with him, a child for me to focus my attention on. But he often says he doesn't want a child before his career is stable. I understand, and I am willing to wait, until last night-- I found out that I had adopted his mistress's child thinking he was mine. On the day of our anniversary, I received a message from an unknown number. It's a picture of him with a woman in bed. And the text reads: he has been mine from the beginning. Three days later when he comes to the house that he shared with me in the past two years for one last time, he sees the divorce paper I left him, together with the necklace he gave the girl who saved him ten years ago! Pain and regret burst out in his chest, but this time he couldn’t find me anywhere. Five years later I came back to Arizona with beautiful quadruplets who have resemblance to the most powerful Alpha King in the world, but there's a problem: he isn't ready to let me go even though he's damaged and causes me nothing but pain.

I am the woman who stays the longest by the side of mafia Don Jasper Shaw. I believe I hold a unique place in his heart. But when his beloved Rosie Hurley suffers violation and falls pregnant, everything changes. Accused of orchestrating Rosie's downfall, I become the venomous villain in their eyes. To shield Rosie from gossip, Jasper publicly claims her unborn child as his own. Meanwhile, I am branded a depraved woman, defiled and discarded. Desperate, I reveal my own pregnancy to Jasper, pleading for our child’s future. He dismisses it as a ploy for attention. When I confront him, his words cut deep. "This is the sin you must atone for. Rosie has always been raised like a princess, and she can't endure the whispers—not like you." For the first time, I realize I am nothing to Jasper but a tool for his desires. Rosie locks me in a cramped cellar, where I suffocate and die. My body lies undiscovered for a month. When Jasper receives the call to identify my corpse, he brushes it off, prioritizing Rosie's prenatal checkup. "Amara's lies are piling up. So what if she's dead? Cremate her and then talk to me." My body enters the furnace and is reduced to a handful of ashes. Later, the mighty Jasper Shaw kneels and sobs uncontrollably. He begs for just one glimpse of me.

I lose a kidney after an accident, but my one-year-old son dies on the spot. The months after the accident are when I'm most depressed, but my CEO husband is by my side day and night as he cares for me. However, in the fifth year of our marriage, I overhear Yoel Lawson's conversation with a doctor. "It's bad enough that you deliberately orchestrated that accident to have Felicity's kidney transplanted in Rosa's body, but you even accidentally caused your child's death. Aren't you afraid Felicity will lose her mind when she finds out?" "We've lost our son, but we can always have another child. Rosie would've died without that kidney. I gave up my happiness to make it up to Felicity, didn't I? I'll make her conceive again this year—she'll be happier than anything else." Yoel's indifferent voice makes my head spin. I feel like I've been struck by lightning. It turns out he didn't spend all day at the hospital after my accident because of me—he was there to care for Rosa Shaw, his true love. I don't want to have another child with him. I don't even want him anymore.

She escaped the mate who broke her—only to bind herself to the monster sent to end her. Scarred by betrayal and branded by blood, Lira survives the Pit with nothing but fury in her lungs and a tether to a man she should hate. Kael is cold, brutal, and bound by secrets—but in the dark, their monsters recognize each other. And when the bond pulls tighter, it’s not just survival on the line. It’s surrender.

In a world where money and power is whorshipped. She had everything money could , and thought she had a perfect life until things began to fall apart. She was misled into believing she was someone else, and when the whole truth comes out in the open, she was hurt because she had fallen in deeply in love with someone she isn't supposed to be with.

At the team dinner, everyone started hyping Peggy Madoff and me up to call our partners. Before I could even move, Peggy—runner-up to my top spot—whipped out her phone. "Babe, everyone's making me call you!" she giggled. On the line? Gerard Busch. Yeah, the CEO. He laughed. "Guess I'll be counting on you all to look after Peggy," he said. Cue the gasps and cheers. I just kept downing my wine. Because Gerard? He was my husband.