Bias

After I get abducted to an underground auction house belonging to a mafia family based in Aleroth, I become the most popular commodity ever in the live stream hosted on the dark web. As the live comments flood the screen and the viewers keep tipping the live stream, I feel my legs being forced open inch by inch. The electric chair beneath me keeps pulsing me with jolts of electricity, making me tremble uncontrollably. Men keep rearranging my limbs however they want in various positions. Then, they put me through all sorts of torture, as if I'm not a human being at all. Once everything is over, I can only curl into a small ball in a corner of the iron cage. My clothes are completely disheveled, and my gaze remains hollow and lifeless. That's when I hear someone speaking in Elythran, a language I'm familiar with. "Haha! That chick still thinks she can escape from this place!" "To think that the mafia princess of Elythra ends up getting lured to this place and reduced to a common whore for us to toy with! Those brothers really are ruthless!" "I heard the brothers did this just to appease their adopted younger sister, Emilia Ricci. That's why they ordered us to put up a show. Even the people tipping on the live stream are actors they've hired to make this show perfect." "This idiot is still waiting for her brothers to come rescue her! Last night, she kept crying out to them in her sleep, begging them to save her!" As the henchmen speak, they open the door to my room, only to be stunned by the blood-stained floor. Immediately, they dig out their phones and begin dialing numbers anxiously. The moment I make out one of the numbers, I feel my blood turn into ice. It appears that the so-called abduction is just a show that my brothers have put on just to appease Emilia… I can feel blood rising in my throat. As my vision goes blurry, I think I see another man's gentle expression. That's the memory that I've kept buried deep inside my heart—the memory of my actual older brother, Silvio Gallo.

In the seventh year of my marriage to Simon Heath, I finally walk away from him after his 32nd mistress shows up at my door. I join a classified government program and disappear from his world. Now he's falling apart and calling me non-stop. "Lily, I was wrong. Please come back." In the past, a single word of apology from him would have been enough to make me stay. But not this time. This time, he's bound to be disappointed.

Before Mom's surgery, Mason—yeah, the Mason Leonhart from one of Brighton's big-name families—suddenly "had" to go on a business trip and couldn't be at the hospital. A few hours later, Judy Yeager blasted a video on social. There was Mason, Mr. Born-With-A-Silver-Spoon, recycling bottles with her. Caption: [If we work hard together, no hardship can scare us.] I couldn't resist. [Future Leonhart heir, worth ten billion, still helping his girl recycle bottles to trade in for cash—heartwarming.] It vanished in seconds. My phone lit up. Mason's voice? Ice cold. "Shiloh Harrington, what was that? Call Judy. Tell her you were joking." I laughed. "Keep playing your little poor-boy cosplay without me." Hung up. Three days till the divorce cooling-off ended. Then Mason could be the broke man he was pretending to be.

I waited for my fiancé, Charlie Boyd, to arrive for the wedding, but the one who pushed the door open was Conrad Parker, the deranged son of his family’s chauffeur. Amid the crowd’s mocking laughter, Charlie’s elegant secretary, Crystal Henderson, covered her mouth and said with a smirk, “Your future husband has come to pick you up. Shouldn’t you hurry off and marry him?” “As for Mr. Boyd, I’ll make sure to keep him company today.” Just then, Charlie strolled to the doorway with practiced nonchalance. “It was just a prank. Why the sour face? “That idiot is nothing but a lunatic. Just treat it like a childish game of make-believe.” I met the amused gleam in his eyes and said calmly, “He came wearing a groom’s suit to pick up his bride—how could that be a game?” “If we are marrying, then let it be a real ceremony.”

On our son's fifth birthday, I found the texts on Stanley's phone—from his best friend's widow: [Stanley, the kid misses his dad again. When are you coming over?] [Stanley, Archie liked a set of matching family outfits. I already ordered them. Let's wear them together this weekend.] [Stanley, Archie starts school tomorrow. I put your name down under "father." Hope that's okay?] And Stanley? He was all in: [Loretta's asleep. I'll head over now.] [My size is 3XL. Don't get the wrong one.] [It's fine. You two have always been my responsibility.] I stood there, frozen. Then I called him back in from the living room, where he'd been helping Luca open gifts. He didn't deny it. Just hugged me and started rambling. "Hallie's Howard's widow. I promised I'd look out for her and Archie. I know I messed up. It won't happen again." We'd been together ten years. Luca had just turned five. Ending a marriage over a few texts felt dramatic. So I let it slide. Believed him. We even went out to celebrate Luca's birthday. Then his phone lit up on the table: [Stanley, the kid's crying for his dad before bed. I can't calm him down.] Stanley shoved his chair back and walked out—no hesitation. I looked at Luca. He was startled at the noise. And just like that, divorce didn't feel so dramatic anymore.

My father, Benjamin Ward, was bedridden, paralyzed, and unable to move. The AI model he spent his entire life developing—a model powerful enough to cure terminal diseases—had been stolen and published under someone else's name. Humiliated beyond endurance, he suffered a stroke and collapsed. He couldn't speak. He couldn't even write. I swore I'd find the thief who destroyed him. My girlfriend, Maris Dawn, wept and promised to help me uncover the truth. But at a dinner party, when her first love proudly announced that he'd been specially recruited by a national research lab thanks to that very model, she immediately grabbed my arm, whispering, "Don't make a scene. Grayson just wants a good future. Don't ruin his life." Grayson Vale smirked with disdain. "The old man was about to retire anyway. Think of it as recycling waste." My vision went red. I charged at him, ready to make him pay for what he'd done to my father. Maris tripped me before I could reach him. She threw a check for ten million in my face. "Here's for your dad's medical care. Don't be shameless, alright? Grayson is a rising star. You're just a broke grad student. You should learn your place." I tore the check apart, piece by piece. That check could never buy the Dawn family a future in the world of science.

On the day we receive our bonus, one of the staff members of the finance department gives me 500 dollars worth of vouchers for the fast food restaurant downstairs. He tells me that my wife, Jillian Dunn, who is also the company's president, specifically ordered him to do so. In utter disbelief, I seek out Jillian and question her. "Didn't we agree that whoever secures the project will get a 50,000-dollar bonus? Stop messing around! I still need to pay for Freya's cochlear implant!" "I'm not messing around with you," Jillian answers seriously. "These vouchers can last you for a whole month. I wouldn't even give them to you if you were anyone else. "Money is tight right now at the company. Besides, Freya has been deaf for more than a decade now. She can survive being deaf for another decade." The next day, Jillian gives one of the interns a sports car that's worth 50,000 dollars. I look at the photo she uploads of her and the intern grinning widely as they sit in the car and give it a like. Jillian must assume that everything is proceeding smoothly since she has signed the contract. However, she misses the additional condition that's printed on the last page of the contract. I dial her rival's number, asking, "Ms. Swan, are you interested in Project Charlie?"

My fated mate, Alpha Rylan, turned cold the moment our bond snapped into place. They all say I'm just a lowly omega. That I'm not good enough for him. I started to believe them. To think my wolf was broken. Maybe this wasn't a mate bond at all, just a pathetic crush. Then, on the day I finally decided to give up, a second wolf awakened in my mind: Echo. She screamed at me that Rylan craved me. That he loved me. And just like that, my hope was rekindled. He hurt me ninety-eight times in seven years. Seventy-seven of those were for his adopted sister, Morrigan. Each time, Echo insisted he just didn't know how to show his love. And favoring Morrigan? That was just to make me jealous. To see that I cared. But the ninety-ninth time was the last straw. He left me for dead in enemy territory. When I woke up, the gift he'd prepared for me was in Morrigan’s hands. I was done. Finally. I called the Elders with a single request: "I want to sever my bond with Alpha Rylan. I'm leaving. For good."

Even though it's been three years since we held our weddings, Adrian Johnson refuses to get our marriage registered. I overhear him venting to his best friend after he gets drunk. "Colleen got kidnapped before. I keep thinking of her as a tainted woman. Plus, her family has already gone into bankruptcy. She has no idea that my company is about to get listed." I feel my blood turn into ice in my veins. His confession leaves my feet rooted to the spot. Then, Adrian pulls a woman into his arms before kissing her belly. That woman is Rosalind Muller, the young and beautiful bar singer. I'm still dazed when I receive a text on my phone. It's a photo of Rosalind's pregnancy bump. The caption writes, "You're just a tainted woman. How can you ever compare to me?" What Adrian doesn't know is that I never got kidnapped three years ago. At that time, I had carried out a top-secret rescue mission as a secret agent. Soon, I text my dad. "Dad, where's your island? Can you send a helicopter over to pick me up?" On the day I leave Adrian once and for all, it's time for my mysterious identity and the truth from three years ago to be revealed.

My brother Raymond hated me for seven years. After a bitter fight on a freezing winter night, I stormed out and drove away. I never expected a blizzard to fall so suddenly. It blinded my vision. I was attacked by a rogue, injected with a poison that could erase memories and sever blood bonds. My memories became fragmented. When I woke up in the pack’s infirmary, Raymond stood there with a cold expression and casually pointed at a gravely ill male werewolf lying in bed. “He’s your brother. Stop bothering me.” I was stunned. The male werewolf pushed himself up and took my freezing hand, his eyes gentle.
“Come on. I’ll take you home.” After that, I no longer saw Raymond as my brother—just as he wished. So why was he suddenly begging for my acknowledgement after casting me aside so eagerly?