Attack On Fics 7 Minutes

During the seventh year of my relationship with Oscar Ramsay, he goes back to his home country to inherit the position of heir to the Ramsay family from his younger brother, Oliver Ramsay, who passed away. He also accepts Oliver's widow, Evie Griffin, into the family. Every time after he sleeps with her, he will get down on his knees before me and beg me for forgiveness. "I'm sorry, Aurora. You're the only person I love, but none of this is of my own accord. I'll only be able to publicly announce our relationship after I successfully give Evie a baby to be the next family heir. "I'll be taking over the company by then, too, and give you a better life in the future." He even tells me resentfully that his father, Uriah Ramsay, had told him of his dying wish that Evie give birth to a baby boy. Over the next year, Oscar sleeps with Evie 200 times. It went from a few times a month to a few times a week. Eventually, Oscar just sleeps in her room every single night. After I lose sleep for 200 nights, Evie finally gets pregnant. The next day, Oscar and Evie get married at a very expensive and elaborate wedding at a church. Ingrid Ramsay, my daughter, gets upset when she sees Oscar and Evie kissing on the screen. "Mommy, why is Daddy getting married to someone else? You're his wife!" I cover Ingrid's eyes and smile bitterly. "Because Daddy doesn't love Mommy." Oscar doesn't know this, but I have never cared that other people didn't know about my real identity. I also don't care about his money or wealth. I only care whether or not he loves me. I'm no longer willing to face a man who cheats on me. Instead, I bring Ingrid with me as we leave him forever.

Serena Sinclair is the most attractive she-wolf in the Mystic Moon pack. Many wolves are head over heels in love with her. But when she's about to become Alpha Caspian Lockwood's Luna, the video of her wild and loose side in bed gets sent to every wolf's phone in the pack. She falls from grace immediately. Not only is she demoted to the status of an Omega and has lost her right to become the Luna, but the wolves who were once respectful to her keep humiliating her as well. They even run all the way to the Sinclair residence just so they can pelt her with more curses and slurs. Serena runs off to look for Caspian, consequences be damned. After all, he's the only one who has those videos in his phone. But the moment she arrives outside his house, she overhears his subordinates' voices. "This way, Serena will never become your Luna, Alpha Caspian. She can only watch as you mark Aurelia as your mate." "Serves her right, honestly. She's the one who's been shamelessly clinging to the Alpha's side. She has no idea how much the Alpha loathes her. In order to avoid touching her, he often cleanses the scent every night before telling his younger brother, Forrest, to sleep with her and record those racy videos." "If she finds out that her lover's younger brother is the one whom she's been sleeping with all these years, will she die of an aneurysm on the spot? Ahahaha!" Serena's wolf keeps howling in her mind. She can only cover her ears as she flees away from the Lockwood residence. The last shred of hope is already gone. After that, she goes through the procedures of leaving the Mystic Moon pack once and for all. But when she's truly gone, why is it that everyone sinks to their knees and begs her to return to them?

On the eve of his Alpha succession ceremony, my fiancé Hunter prepared lavish gifts for all the distinguished guests and had Freya distribute them. Freya obliged with a smile. Then, when she reached me, her gaze swept over me with nothing but contempt. “Move aside. This isn’t for you.” She tossed an exile notice at my face. “You’re just a she-wolf who likes to seduce. Think you deserve an Alpha’s gift? Dream on. You’re not welcome here. Get out of our pack!” At that moment, the guests opened the gift boxes Freya handed out. Inside, alongside a rare blue moonstone, were photos of me in intimate moments with other Alpha males from different packs. In an instant, I became the pack’s traitorous, unfaithful woman. My face darkened as I stared at Hunter. “You’re really going to exile me from the pack?”

"Miss Elara, this confirms the arrangement for your 'staged death.' In two weeks, at the Luna coronation ceremony, your death will be staged." "You will fall into the rapids, and the cause will be poisoning by wolfsbane." When my Alpha mate, Aiden, abandoned me again for "urgent pack business," I found a rogue on the black market and signed the staged death agreement without a second thought. The entire werewolf world believed Alpha Aiden was madly in love with me. He certainly played the part, never forgetting to kiss my forehead every time he left. But only I knew that for the thirty-ninth time he kissed me, he had also spent the night lost in a drunken haze with that Omega model, Cassia. But none of that mattered anymore. A tainted Alpha, I was done with him. At the coronation he treasured most, I would ensure he received the most perfect corpse.

The day before the ceremony, my Alpha Heir mate Lysander brought home an Omega who still bore an old mark — and insisted she become his Luna. The beautiful, fragile-looking Omega leaned against his chest, her eyes red. "I can't. If you keep me, my mate will die without me." Lysander answered lightly, "Then I'll give up my Luna-to-be. We'll trade. I'll order him to break your mark at once." The Omega laughed softly. "That’s for the best. But are you sure you don't mind?" Lysander smiled back. "A dull puppet who spent her whole life waiting to be marked by me. How could she compare to you?" She glanced around the chamber and pouted. "I don't like any of this. It was all prepared for her." Lysander kissed her forehead. "I'll replace all of it. Something better. For you." Their love story became the talk of the realm. And no one cared that I was the "dull puppet" who had been traded away.

On Thanksgiving, my husband Steven Mandel showed up with another woman. Not just anyone—Fiona Osborne, his first love. She had Alzheimer's and only remembered him. And yeah, he said she was moving in. Steven's eyes were ice. "Erica, I stayed away from Fiona out of duty. But I'm not wasting what time I have left without her." Happy 50th anniversary to me. No gift—just a slap-in-the-face love confession. Maya, my daughter-in-law, tried to talk some sense into him, bless her. Then Anton—my own son—cut in. "Mom already kept Dad away from Fiona for years. She's tied ME to you for half my life. Now Dad just wants to take care of the woman he loves—what's so wrong with that?" Steven stepped in front of Fiona like some kind of hero. "Anton's right. Erica, I let you play the wife role for decades. Now, I want to be with the woman I truly love. "If you can't handle that, let's just get a divorce." I stood there, frozen. I'd walked away from a powerhouse law career for this family after we had Anton. I thought I had given everything, and in their eyes, I would be a perfect wife and a perfect mother. But today made it clear—I was never enough. No matter how much I gave, it was never going to be enough. I turned to Maya. She was crying. "You wanna get divorced together?"

The Underboss, Gio Rocco, told me that during yesterday's hit by a rival clan, my husband, Don Domenico De Luca, and his secretary were caught together in a compromising situation. When our men broke in, the secretary had barely managed to put her clothes back on. I don't want to believe it, but when I enter the conference room and see the delicate, helpless woman in Domenico's arms, it suddenly seems laughable. Anger surges through me, and I storm up to Domenico. He instinctively steps in front of the woman, shielding her. I press my gun against his forehead. "Domenico, let's get a divorce," I say coldly.

Everyone in the underworld knew Rosalie Thorne, the "Thorn Principessa" of the North. Wild, rebellious, notorious. Street racing, high-stakes gambling, guns, and drinking, she had mastered them all. The rose-and-thorn tattoo on the nape of her neck drove countless men wild. But what they didn't know was that for Rocco, the new mob boss of the South, a single sentence, "I prefer a more obedient woman," was all it took. At his word, I had the tattoo lasered off and swapped my leathers for long, conservative dresses. I am Rosalie. For five years, I hid my identity and played the porcelain doll Rocco wanted. Until the night he eliminated all his rivals and was crowned the new Don of the South. That was when he let his men bow to another woman, hailing her as their "Donna." I watched Rocco. The same hands that had just executed a traitor were now gently placing a pair of red high heels on the feet of his adoptive sister, Vivian. "Rosalie, she has a temper. She'll make a scene if she doesn't get the title." "You're the good one, the obedient one. Just let her have this." That day, I walked straight out into the rain and never looked back. I was never truly obedient. I just made myself smaller for him. My family had already chosen a husband for me. They had been waiting five years, just for me to say yes.

She coveted everything about me. My possessions, my experiences, and even my men. So one night, my mother pushed me into an older man's bedroom. The next day, she asked with a smug smile, "Nina, how was your night with the older guy?" I rubbed my sore waist, recalling his broad shoulders, long legs, and trim waist from the night before. I smiled as I answered her. "That fiancé of mine is all yours now. Just remember—I’ll be your Aunt-in-law in the future.”

Even the street punks knew that in Chicago, Catherine Leone was untouchable. I had three deadly protectors watching my back. My husband, Raphael Falcone, was the youngest underboss in the Chicago Outfit. He was known for his cold, iron-fisted rule, yet in a crowded room, he would kneel to adjust the hem of my gown. My childhood friend, Luca Vizzini, the family's brilliant new consigliere. He'd sworn to protect me since we were kids. And my twin brother, Salvatore Leone, who cherished me above all else. He took over the family at eighteen and treated me like royalty, making me the most envied Principessa in the underworld. On my twenty-eighth birthday, I waited in the living room all day, clutching a pregnancy test with two solid lines, ready to share the news that would change everything. Instead, they brought me my brother's body, murdered by a drug dealer hailed as a hero. And standing before me was my husband, Raphael Falcone, ready to clear the murderer's name. "Tell me why," A scream clawed at my throat, but I fought it down, "You know damn well who the murderer is." "Catherine, control yourself." It was Luca Vizzini, my childhood friend, who tied my hands. "Salvatore's gone, but you still have us. You're still Mrs. Falcone, still the Principessa of the Leone family." "The Leones have looked after Chiara for years. You know her father is all she has." They wanted me to confess to my brother’s fabricated crimes and apologize to Chiara. But they forget. Before I was Raphael's wife, I was Catherine Leone. A master hacker who could breach any system. I will deliver my own justice in ways they cannot imagine. And I will make them regret it.