Bias

On April Fool’s Day, my CEO husband cut out my heart to save his childhood sweetheart's son. After the surgery, he tossed me into a cold rental apartment, where I died in agony. Three days after my death, my five-year-old daughter played in the room as usual. Walking by the sofa, she wrinkled her little nose and mumbled, "Mommy, there's a weird smell in here." She touched my face and murmured, "Mommy, are you pretending to be Snow White? Why are you so pale?" She shook my arm harder and raised her voice, "Mommy, it's my birthday today—get up and blow out the candles!" Confused, she picked up the phone and called her father. “Daddy, did I make Mommy mad? I lit the candles, but no matter how much I call her, she won’t wake up.” On the other end of the call, Patrick Hart’s voice was cold and impatient. “What could possibly be wrong with her? She’s just pretending to be asleep for sympathy. It’s Johnny’s birthday, I’m busy. Don’t bother me! Tell your melodramatic mother to stop playing her little tricks. I don't have time to humor her." My daughter removed the candle from her bun, pinched off a piece of the bun, and fed it to me. "Mommy, I made a secret wish… I really wish you could hold me again, just like before."

My family is on the brink of bankruptcy, and I beg my fiancé to help us with emergency funding. He turns me down cold, then gets engaged to Nellie White without hesitation. Just when I'm out of options, my childhood friend shows up with an investment contract and a marriage proposal. I say yes without thinking twice. But even with his help, our company can't escape ruin. My father, unable to bear the blow, suffers a heart attack and dies. At the funeral, overwhelmed by grief, I faint. In my haze, I overhear a conversation between my childhood friend and his friend. "You've already crushed Talitha’s family. When are you going to take her uterus for Nellie?" "On the wedding day," he replies casually. "I'll stage an accident, then operate on her myself. Her uterus will be Nell's. I can't give Nell happiness in this life, so I'll give her a wedding gift. I hope it makes her happy." Turns out his so-called devotion was just so he could take my womb. Even his proposal to me was just a way to remove all obstacles for the woman he loved.

My fated mate, Alpha Baton, had once shackled his bloodlust for me. He’d built a corporate empire from the ashes of his bloody conquests, all to give me a civilized home. Even when my father was framed for murdering the brother of his first love, Seraphina, he held me gently. "Don't worry, Tricia. I'll face this with you." But on the day of the trial, my father was condemned as a murderer and exiled to the North. And Baton? He was celebrating, with his arm wrapped around Seraphina. I hunted down the witness, demanding answers, only to find him trembling as he stared at Baton, who stood right behind me. It was Baton. He had threatened the witness into lying. He was willing to destroy my father, just to make Seraphina happy. "Seraphina's brother is dead. Someone has to pay the price." The mate bond between us didn't just snap—it shattered. Agony ripped through my soul. If I meant nothing to him, our marking ceremony was a promise. And now, it was one I had to break.

After having a crush on someone for 10 years, out of love, my father drugged his friend and placed him on my bed. When he woke at dawn the next morning, his eyes were ice-cold. But he still accept our engagement. However, life after marriage wasn’t as good as I thought. Mike Ashton would frequently fly abroad and stay there for a long time. I gave birth to our daughter on my own as I waited for him to return home. After four years, when I heard that he was returning home, I postponed everything and went to the airport expectantly with our daughter in my arms. Our daughter reached out her little hand and was hoping for a hug from him. He just looked at me indifferently and said in a cold voice, “I’m sorry, but I’m a neat freak.” From then on, my daughter and I would wash our hands at least three times every day and the house would be spotless. However, he still rarely came home and never gave our daughter a warm hug. That was until when I accidentally saw a video with Mike in it. “Mike, what do you think is the happiest thing in the world?” He answered casually, “I think it’s when I tucked Oliver into bed and dragged Jennifer into the bathroom when I was abroad last week.” The people around him all laughed, but my heart felt ice-cold. Jennifer Bundred was Mike’s ex-girlfriend who he still had an entanglement with and Oliver was her son. It seemed that he had been living with them during the time that he was abroad for the past four years. This fact finally made me give up all illusions. I left a divorce agreement for him, gave up my and our daughter’s identities, and went abroad to start a new life.

During the ten years since I was found and brought to my biological family, Sonia Baxter, the girl who took my place, and I have been as close as real sisters. Even Mom says that Sonia cares more about me than a real sister would. I once swore I'd give my life to protect our special family of four. When Sonia is rushed into emergency surgery with a ruptured cerebral aneurysm, I am in my office, calmly practicing a basic suturing technique on a surgical simulator. On the screen, the robotic arm threads the needle with such precision that it looks like a work of art. A few minutes later, my boyfriend, Oliver Lyons, slams open the office door and shouts at me, "Amelia Baxter! Sonia's in critical condition. Only your micro-dissection skills can save her! Every expert in the hospital is waiting for you! We've got less than an hour before the window closes!" He looks at me with hopeful eyes. I'm the only person in the country capable of performing a surgery this complex. My hands are even known as the "Hands of God". However, I simply reply with a hum and continue fiddling with the model. Suddenly, my parents rush in. Mom grabs my arm and cries out, "Amelia! That's your sister in there! How could you just stand by and watch her die?" I gently pull away from her and hold my right hand out in front of them. This hand, which had once created countless medical miracles, is now trembling slightly. "Unfortunately, since yesterday, I've been showing symptoms of essential tremor. Dad, Mom… this hand is ruined."

On my birthday, my fiancé used his supermarket points to get me a pair of dishwashing gloves. But at an auction, he bought a five-million-dollar gem for his first love. I was mad, confronting him, but he called me a gold digger. "I've been giving you money to spend. Isn't it only right that you take care of me? This was supposed to be my final test for you. If you passed, we'd get married. You've let me down big time." I broke up with him. He turned around and proposed to his first love. Five years later, we ran into each other on a private vacation island. Alex Thompson saw me in the workers' uniform picking up trash on the beach. He mocked me on the spot. "You turned your nose up at the gloves I got you, and here you are, scavenging garbage. Now, even if you begged me, I wouldn't give you a second glance." I ignored him. My son's social studies project was to clean up the backyard with a parent. His dad had expanded the yard all the way to the beach. Cleaning it up was exhausting.

Just for brushing against the hem of Eva Lawson, the heiress’s custom couture gown, Lucy Quinn's mother had her limbs broken, then thrown into the sea to die. The day Lucy dragged the arrogant heiress to court she thought that justice might finally be served. Eva was declared not guilty. Why? Because the defense attorney representing her was none other than Wyatt Grant, founder of the most untouchable law firm in River City, and Lucy Quinn’s husband. When the trial ended, the elegant and aloof man stepped down from the defense table and placed an apology letter in front of Lucy. "Lulu, sign it. You don’t want to be sued for defamation and end up in prison, do you?" His tone was calm and coaxing, but behind the lenses of his gold-rimmed glasses, his gaze was cold as ice. Lucy, tears stubbornly clinging to her eyes, looked up at him and said with a trembling voice, "Why, Wyatt, Why?"

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.”

I kept it hidden from the entire Moonshadow Pack — the private mate contract I signed with Darren, the current Alpha. Every time he rushed off to spend the heat season with his Omega childhood sweetheart, the wolf inside me howled in agony, tearing itself apart. Every time, he would whisper his empty promises, "Once she's stable, we'll hold the Luna crowning ceremony." For three years, he made that promise ninety-nine times — and skipped the ceremony ninety-nine times. The first time, her wolf died unexpectedly, and he claimed the Moon Goddess had forbidden the ceremony. The second time, her heat struck suddenly, and he abandoned me, throwing himself into her bed. After that, every time there was supposed to be a ceremony, something happened to her — and somehow, he was always right there by her side. Every time, I broke down, screaming, drowning in heartbreak. However, he always looked down on me, his voice calm, detached: "She's just a temporary mate for physical needs. You should understand." After the ninety-ninth broken promise, the wolf inside me finally went silent. I placed a "Mate Contract Termination Application" on his desk. "From now on, in the eyes of the Moon Goddess, I'm no longer yours in any way."

My Alpha mate Kieran ordered our eight-year-old son to burn my mother alive because his Omega assistant accused me of killing her pet dog out of spite. Kieran's eyes were filled with impatience and disgust. "You're supposed to be our pack's respected Luna. Why would you target an innocent Omega? Whatever harm her pet suffered, your mother will endure the same. Your mother is paying the price for your jealousy!" I fell to my knees, begging Kieran to spare my mother. But he commanded our seven-year-old son Owen to light the fire himself. My son didn't hesitate for a second as he threw the torch into the pile of wood. "That's what you get for always going against Aunt Sera!" I screamed and cried, desperately begging them to help me put out the flames. "Please, I'm begging you, take my mother to the healing center..." "Enough, Aria. Your mother is still lying in the hospital bed. That's just a training dummy. Stop putting on this pathetic act." After saying that, father and son walked away without looking back. They didn't know that it really was my mother burning in those flames. But when I finally gave up on them and left, why did they both come crawling back, begging me to return?