Attack On Titan Woman

A rich kid offers to pay anyone who'll be his companion to a ball ten thousand dollars. My roommate stops me from responding. "He's just a rich guy fishing for fun—he's using money to play around with women! Are you going to offer yourself to him for money? We can't be gold diggers!" My mother is sick, though. She needs my scholarship money to save her life. To my devastation, my roommate latches onto a school board member and takes away my scholarship. She even mocks me. "With your looks, you could've sold yourself for money. Here's a hundred bucks to compensate you." That's not all—an AI face-swapped picture of me are posted online. Countless people harass me because of them. My mother doesn't want to drag me down, so she takes her life. I break down and choose to jump off a building. When I open my eyes again, I'm taken back to the first day of the semester. The rich kid is looking for a female companion. I immediately say, "I'm the companion you've been looking for, sir!"

"No matter the price," I said calmly to the witch across from me, "I will buy the scroll that severs a mate bond." I am Jean Thompson, Luna of the Crescent Pack in name only, and mate—also in name only—to Alpha Felix Frost. In the five years I carried this title, I endured Felix's indifference, my in-laws' scorn, and the pack's cold neglect. All because I loved Felix. I believed, with a devotion that consumed me, that one day my sincerity would move his heart. But on the very day of our fifth anniversary—when I discovered I was carrying twins—I stumbled upon him leading the entire pack of warriors to the airport… to welcome his childhood sweetheart, Mary Lockwood. That moment shattered the last of my hope. When he returned, I hid the bond-severing scroll among a stack of business documents and set it in front of him. "What's this? If it's important, give it to me later—" Before he could finish, Mary's syrup-sweet voice slipped in between us, "Alpha, our reservation is about to begin." Felix didn't even bother to look. He pressed his handprint casually on the scroll, ending five years of our bond. Just like that, our mate bond was severed. But I walked away with more than freedom. I carried with me a secret that could shake the entire pack—two lives growing inside me. Twins, foretold to become kings of the werewolves: the Alpha heirs. Later, in a place far beyond his reach, I gained everything I had once longed for—respect, trust, and love. But Felix came back like a storm I could not escape. His eyes were bloodshot, his body trembling with fury as he trapped me against the wall. "I never agreed to sever our bond," he growled. "Where do you think you're going with my pups?"

On the day the privileged heiress, Olivia Cruz, and I register our marriage, she leaves me and Mom stranded on a deserted road before running off to her childhood sweetheart, Brad McCoy. Rage triggers Mom's cardiac arrest, so I call Olivia in anxiety, begging her to come back and save Mom. But she just says a cold line before ending the call, "Not this again. Every time I have to step away, your mom suddenly has heart pain. Your family sure knows how to put on a show, huh?" With that, Mom misses her chance at rescue and dies. That night, a mutual friend posts online. "Growing up together is a whole different kind of bond!" The post shows Olivia perched on Brad's lap with his hand resting on her waist. It's the perfect picture of intimacy that leaves little to the imagination. I expressionlessly tap on the like button before typing my comment. "Is this what you meant by 'something important'?" The friend sneers. "Relax, it's just a game of Truth or Dare. I can't believe you're taking it so seriously." Olivia doesn't even bother to explain, but when I walk away without a word, she finally panics.

Everyone knows I'm Brooke River's bootlicker—I've stuck by her side for the past ten years. Now, she's getting engaged to someone else, and everyone's waiting to see me make a fool of myself. The problem is… I already got married three years ago.

I was chosen to be the fiancée of Lorenzo, the Mafia’s heir. But at a family gala, Lorenzo was openly pursued by Chiara, the daughter of an arms dealer. Chiara wasn’t like the other rule-abiding debutantes.She tore through the streets in a modified sports car, used a military-grade combat knife to cut her cigars, and drank the harshest whiskey neat.There was an untamed wildness about her, a fire Lorenzo couldn’t look away from. He complained to the family elders, “How can a woman like that possibly be our Madre and run this entire family?” His words dripped with disdain for her recklessness, yet his eyes were glued to her, tracking her every move as she raised her glass. Then, on Lorenzo’s birthday, he announced his intention to make Chiara his mistress. Chiara refused.”The women of my family are wives, never mistresses.And my husband’s heart must belong only to me.” Lorenzo came to me, his voice hesitant.”Alessia, it’s just a title.I need you to give it to Chiara.Please? She doesn’t understand our family’s traditions, and she’s making a scene about marrying me.We just need to pacify her for now.Even if she marries me, you will still be the one to manage the family’s affairs.” As I stood trying on my wedding gown, a sharp crystal bead on the bodice pierced my finger.A single drop of blood bloomed against the pure white satin. The dress was ruined, but the wedding would go on. Since he chose someone else to be his wife, I will become his Madre.

I've been caught in a relationship with a divorced man for eight years. We've broken up and reconciled too many times to count. In the end, I tallied ninety-four breakups and five divorces between us. One more would make it an even hundred, but I'm too exhausted to continue this cycle. The first breakup happened when I was giving him my virginity. Halfway through, his ex-wife called asking him to pick up some bread, and he simply left. The fifth breakup occurred when he abandoned me, newly pregnant, on the highway to comfort his ex-wife who was having complications with her own pregnancy. I ended up in a car accident and miscarried. He arrived at the hospital with his clothes disheveled. Despite all the pain he caused me, I could never bring myself to truly leave him. Our most recent divorce happened for an equally absurd reason. His ex-wife and their child were participating in a family reality TV show that required them to appear as a complete family unit. To protect his ex-wife's public image, he divorced me yet again. When filming wrapped, he called to discuss remarrying. This time I refused, because I'm going to marry someone else.

Before my wedding, my vision which I lost after saving Bruce unexpectedly returned. Overjoyed, I hurried to share the wonderful news with him, but as I stepped into the living room, I froze. Bruce and my cousin, Kerry, were in a passionate embrace. "Bruce, the baby is perfectly healthy now. The doctor said we can sleep together again! Why don't we do it right here in the living room? Also, isn't it thrilling to do it here while Nancy is asleep in her room?" "Shut up! Don't joke about my wife like that!" Bruce snapped at her, but his reprimand was accompanied by a kiss. I stood there, watching in shock as their movements grew more intense and their breathing became heavier. Only then did I piece it all together. Their sudden shared enthusiasm for indoor workouts six months ago wasn't about fitness at all. Covering my mouth to stifle a sob, I turned back to my room and shut the door. I decided then and there: Bruce didn't need to know I had recovered. Reaching for my phone, I dialed my mother. "Mom, I'm not marrying Bruce anymore. I'll marry the comatose heir of the Blakes instead. I don't need Bruce in my life."

My husband died unexpectedly, and my mother-in-law adopted a newborn boy. She said she wanted to keep this child by her side as a reminder of my husband. Therefore, I raised him as my own child. Later, when he grew up, I gave him the company with peace of mind. The first thing my son did after taking power was to have someone lock me up in the basement and torture me. He said, "If it weren't for you, I wouldn’t have been separated from my parents all these years." At the moment of my death, my husband, who had supposedly passed away for many years, appeared with his first love in his arms. "Sophia, how does it feel to be cheated for more than ten years? Fortunately, you raised a son for me so that we can live happily without you." Angered to death, I could only watch the three of them. When I opened my eyes again, I returned to the day when my husband died unexpectedly.

On the night of our anniversary, I had prepared a new set of lingerie for my Mafia husband Joey, but he had prepared divorce papers for me instead. A Cuban cigar was clamped between his teeth, a look of pure entitlement on his face. "Adriana, we need to divorce. Vivian's father is a capo. If I marry her, my future's set." "Look, sweetheart, you're just a broken family's leftover daughter. You should be grateful I kept you around this long." "Once I have the family ring, maybe I'll throw you a few scraps, let you be my little side piece." Everyone expected the daughter of a fallen family to step aside for his ambition, to be the loyal dog I'd been for the past seven years. But that night, I made a deal with the devil. I accepted a match arranged by my family and married the true king of New York's underworld. I vanished from Joey's world completely. Three years later, I returned to New York on my husband's arm. We were there on family business. Dante was called away for something urgent, leaving me to wait for him at his private club. I never expected to run into Joey, the man I hadn't seen in three years. "That's enough, Adriana. Stop with the childish tantrums." "Our son Angelo's almost six. He needs care. I'm being generous, offering you a position as his nanny." I laughed. What was this idiot talking about? He was calling the most feared and revered Donna in all of New York a nanny?

At the party for our first wedding anniversary, I hit the floor—face-first on a red carpet, gasping like a fish out of water. Carlo Pipino, my husband, had his arm draped around Gianna Verde, his childhood flame, sipping champagne and laughing. Gianna knew I was allergic to nuts. So, obviously, she bathed everything in hazelnut dressing. One bite and boom—my throat locked, my lungs lit up, and hives popped like confetti. I reached for my allergy meds—came up with a fistful of melted M&Ms instead. Gianna laughed when she saw my face. "Surprise! Carlo swapped your meds. Seriously, Siena, one nut? Dramatic much?" I slid off my chair, wheezing, while the crowd placed bets on how long my "performance" would last. "Carlo... my meds..." I croaked. "Please. I'm gonna die." He sighed, annoyed. "God, you're so dramatic. Why do women always play dead for attention? You know I love you. Just stop this show already." Right then, my heart shattered faster than my lungs could. I stopped begging. Hit the distress signal. Called my real family.