Attack On Titan Rose Wall

My mate and my brother hated me for twelve years. They believed I stole their precious Sarah's herbal research and bullied her for twelve years into silence. At my marking ceremony, they exposed my "crimes" to the entire supernatural world. "She's nothing but a bully who torments her packmates and a thief who stole the herb formula from Sarah!" But Sarah smiled through her tears: "The formula doesn't matter anymore." "As long as it saved our wolves from silver poisoning, what does it matter who created it?" "I've already forgiven her." She became the pack's angel of mercy. I was condemned by thousands, until the very wolf I'd saved with my medicine poured silver water over my head. In my despair, I dragged Sarah down with me into death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in my second year of high school. Sarah was slicing her arm with a silver blade, smiling as she asked: "Have you thought about how you'll apologize to me?" Something in me snapped. My Alpha power surged forth, crushing her to her knees. I grabbed the blade: "Let me show you what real cuts look like."

When I was ten, I accidentally overheard my mother on the phone. It seemed like she was talking about me being a switched-at-birth rich girl, and that my real last name was Gardner. The coldness and cruelty my mother had shown me all these years suddenly made sense. When I turned 11, I paid an adult to get a maternity test done for both my mother and me. The results confirmed that I was indeed her biological daughter. I kept the report to myself and pretended I was still in the dark.

Isang video ng boyfriend ko na nagpo-propose sa kanyang secretary ang nag-trending. Lahat ay kilig na kilig at sinasabing napaka-romantic at nakakaantig ang eksena. Nag-post pa mismo ang secretary niya sa social media: "Matagal kitang hinintay, at buti na lang hindi ako sumuko. Ipagkakatiwala ko ang buhay ko sayo, Mr. Emerson." Isa sa mga komento ang nagsabi: "Diyos ko, sobrang sweet nito! CEO at secretary—bagay na bagay sila!" Hindi ako umiyak o nag-eskandalo. Sa halip, tahimik kong isinara ang webpage at hinarap ang nobyo ko para humingi ng paliwanag. Doon ko siya narinig na nakikipag-usap sa mga kaibigan niya. "Wala akong choice. Mapipilitan siyang pakasalan ang isang taong hindi niya mahal kung hindi ko siya tinulungan." "Eh si Vicky? Siya ang totoong girlfriend mo. Hindi ka ba natatakot na magalit siya?" "Eh ano naman kung magalit siya? Pitong taon na kaming magkasama—hindi niya ako kayang iwan." Sa huli, ikinasal ako sa parehong araw ng kasal nila. Nang magkasalubong ang aming mga sasakyan, nagpalitan kami ng bouquet ng kanyang secretary. Nang makita niya ako, labis siyang nasaktan at humagulgol.

Five years into my marriage to Dante Moretti, the Don of the Chicago Outfit, the entire underworld knew he loved me more than life itself. He’d had a violin—for me—tattooed right next to his family crest, a symbol of loyalty that could never be erased. Until I got the photo from his mistress. A cocktail waitress, sprawled naked in his arms, her skin marred by the dark bruises of rough sex. She had scrawled her name right next to the violin he’d gotten for me. And my husband had let her. "Dante says only being inside me makes him feel like a man anymore. You can’t even get him hard anymore, can you, sweet Alessia? Maybe it’s time to step aside." I didn't reply. I just made a single call. “I need a new identity. And a plane ticket out.”

I gave everything to save my fated mate, Alpha Austen. I even lost our pups. Twice. But he gave all the credit to his adoptive sister, Seraphina. He called me weak. Useless. He always chose her tears over my scars. He even stood by as her poison shattered my wolf spirit. As I lay dying, I watched him hold my killer and whisper, “I know it wasn’t your fault. This was her fate.” Then I opened my eyes. And I was back. Back before it all went wrong. This time, I’m done explaining. Done sacrificing. Right in front of him, I disguised a potion that would sever our mate bond as a "blessing elixir" and held it to his lips. “My love,” I said, “drink this. It’ll help you comfort your poor little sister.” He drank it without a second thought. In thirty days, under the Blood Moon, our mate bond will be severed for good. But only when I was truly gone did he finally regret it. He knelt before me, again and again, calling himself my fated mate. Begging me to take him back.

I was a brilliant artist. But I crushed my right hand saving my mafia husband, Vincent, and my ability to create died with it for three years. Vincent promised he'd make me whole again. Our private doctor swore he was doing everything he could. But my hand remained numb, useless. Then, one day, I overheard a conversation that shattered my world. "Make sure she can never create again," Vincent told the doctor. "I can't have Isabella threatening Sophia's place in the art world!" "But, Mr. Torrino, another procedure might... she could lose the hand for good." "I don't care what happens to her! Sophia saved my life. I will not let her down!" It turned out my husband was the one who had destroyed me. And the assassin, Sophia, was the woman he truly loved. He let her claim my designs, turning her into the art world’s new darling while I was trapped in a broken body. When I confronted him, pregnant with our child, he slapped me in public and told the world I was losing my mind. That night, I burned everything that bound me to him. Then I dialed an encrypted number I hadn't used in what felt like a lifetime. "Grandpa. In three days, I need to disappear."

Ever since we were kids, I'd always known how to make use of my gentle childhood friend for things like sending him on errands, and borrowing his allowance. He never complained. Just silently indulged me. Things continued the same way until the day we got engaged. That's when everything snapped into place. That was the day we both woke up. I was just a throwaway character in a novel. He was the male lead—fated to fall in love and end up with the novel's heroine. I was stunned. Ready to walk away. But he was furious. Jaw clenched, eyes wild. He grabbed my hand and dragged me straight to City Hall. "Screw the novel. Screw the plot. The only thing I know is that I love you, and I want forever with you." After we got married, he treated me like I was made of glass. Gentle. Meticulous. We worked side by side, building a reputation as a power couple in the business world. The events of the novel faded into the background. I fell deeper in love with him. Three years later, the youngest daughter of a real estate tycoon started her internship at our company. That day, there was a fire in the office. In the chaos, the girl stumbled into a shelving unit. It came crashing down, headed straight for my husband. I didn't hesitate. I threw myself in front of him. Pain exploded in my skull. Blood poured down my face. The girl, in her panic, had fallen to the ground, crying out, "Aaron, help me!" My husband's face went pale. His expression—pure terror—as he ran toward her without a second thought. "Grace!" he cried. Lightning split through me. My face drained of color. The heroine in the novel—her name was Grace.

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.

In my past life, I supported the bankrupt Clark brothers. However, after I became pregnant, they allowed a poor student, Kimberly Scott, to push me down the stairs, where I bled profusely and died while carrying my child. When I opened my eyes again, I was reborn on the day I had brought them into my house. This time, I kicked them out without hesitation. To my surprise, Kimberly had teamed up with my grandmother to pretend to be the real heiress, painting me as the fake heiress who had taken over the family. The butler, Mr. Williams, who had watched me grow up, came forward and accused me of causing my parents’ death. Under the public backlash they had orchestrated, I remained calm and presented my evidence. Not only did I expose Kimberly’s fake identity as the heiress, but I also revealed the true faces of my grandmother and Mr. Williams. I avenged my parents and gave the wrongdoers the punishment they deserved.

Three years ago, my father marries me off to Evan Blackwell, the CEO of Blackwell Group, for the family's interests. Everyone thinks I'm done for because Evan is known for being ruthless and cruel. Yet, he's nothing but gentle to me, and he never raises his voice at me. He even has my initials, SH, tattooed on his chest. Every year on our anniversary, fireworks bloom across the city right on the dot. They spell out my name and the loving words he dedicates to me. On our third anniversary, the fireworks suddenly replace my name, Selena Holloway, with Serena Harroway. Before I can ask about it, Evan immediately calls his subordinates and tears into them. "What's going on? How could you mess up my wife's name? Do you want to lose your jobs?" I hastily tell him it's fine and that the thought is what truly matters. In the end, he lets them off the hook. However, he pushes me until my legs are shaking and my voice is gone that night. When I wake from the night that leaves my whole body humming, he's already seated at his desk and buried in work. He asks me to grab a folder for him, yet I open the wrong drawer and stumble upon an old photo album. It contains intimate photos of him and a young woman who looks strikingly like me. There's a confession on the back of every single picture. "I miss you so much, Serena."