Bittersweet

My mate, Carter, sent me to a werewolf prison for four years. On the day I was released, he arrived holding the hand of his pregnant mistress. “This is what your parents owe me.” “From today on, you’ll take care of Amelia.” I nodded obediently. She made me pick roses with my bare hands. Made me plant a hundred pots under the scorching sun. Made me scrub my allergic, ulcerated skin with alcohol. And I did everything she asked. Until the day they brought me back to my old home. The house was gone. In its place stretched an endless rose garden. And my only sister— had become nothing but a box of ashes. That was the moment I understood. I survived not to atone. I survived to take revenge.

In my fourth year of becoming the wife to Matteo Costa, the Don of the Costa family, as know as La Rosa Nera, I no longer insist on making our relationship public. He has once told me that he will publicly announce my identity as Donna on our wedding anniversary this year. But ever since Vera Barbieri returns to the country, Matteo never brings this up again. He puts all his attention on Vera and always places all her needs first. He even abandons me on the highway because of a single phone call from Vera while my mother is on her deathbed. My mother never gets to see me one last time before she dies. At this moment, I finally give up on him. I prepare the divorce agreement and book a ticket to leave Nevoli. The day after tomorrow, I will leave this place and leave Matteo to his childhood sweetheart.

The day I found out I was pregnant with twins, Vincent Castellano celebrated like a man who had been handed heaven. Fireworks over Brooklyn. Vows whispered against my stomach. Promises that his empire, his loyalty, and his life were mine. That same day, I found out the hospital built in my name had been sheltering his affair. While I was throwing up and fighting to keep our babies safe, he was holding another woman in the next room. So I made my choice. I would keep the twins. But Vincent Castellano would lose all three of us.

The two childhood sweethearts swear that they'll marry no one but me, but they stand by as my dog of ten years gets killed in a car accident. I cradle the dog's mangled body, but no tears fall. Dante Battaglia stares at me in disgust and asks, "Why did you bring it home? Don't you know Anna's allergic to it?" Dario Battaglia immediately rushes over to snatch away the body in my arms. "This is a damned jinx. Get rid of it!" The Battaglia siblings and I are childhood friends. Dante became the Don, and Dario the Consigliere. I'm the precious princess in the two brothers' eyes, but everything changes with Anna's arrival. After burying the dog myself, I reply to the email inviting me to join an international classified project. The email reads, "Ms. Julia Costanza, we'd like to know if you're willing to participate in this institute's ten-year-long classified project. Upon joining, your personal information will be sealed for a decade, and you will be prohibited from contacting the outside world." I replied, "Yes, I agree."

When Eric Sutton—my charming CEO husband—found out I handed a million-dollar project to his assistant Vivien Cheney, he figured his three months of radio silence had finally broken me. Suddenly, he's all, "Let's go to Iceland for our honeymoon!" Vivien heard and threw a fit. Threatened to quit. Classic. Eric, who treated her like royalty, freaked out. After three days of begging, he bailed on the trip—said it was for "work"—then handed her my ticket. Later, he shrugged it off. "Romance's petty. Work comes first. You're my wife. You get it, right?" Right. I just stared at Vivien's new post: a couples selfie—cheek to cheek, hands shaped like a heart. I didn't say a word. Just nodded. Eric thought I was finally playing the role: calm, supportive, mature. Promised an even better honeymoon when he got back. Too bad I'd already quit. Too bad he'd already signed the divorce papers. We were done.

Waking up hungover next to my arch-nemesis – the city's most notorious fuckboy? Worst. Morning. Ever. I handled the walk of shame with icy dignity, but fate had a bigger curveball: one month later, two pink lines. My baby. My rules. His involvement? Zero. My flawless plan hit a snag when morning sickness ambushed me in the office restroom. He walked in. His eyes locked onto my still-flat stomach, darkening with something dangerous. Before I could blink, he had me pinned against the cold tile wall. "Who's the father?" he growled. I met his glare with a frosty smirk. "Wouldn't you like to know? Definitely not you." Then it happened: a hot tear hit my neck. His voice cracked, raw and desperate. "Don't... don't leave me. Please." Me: ...Dude. Seriously? THIS IS YOURS!

On the day Raina Whitmore makes the Helios Rich List, she smiles for the cameras and declares, "I wouldn't be here without my secretary, Kieran Vale. He's the most important person in my life." While she confesses her love in the interview, I lie in a hospital bed, worn out and fading. I'm her husband, the one who's held her company together all these years. But I don't get a single word of thanks. My daughter, Talia Hart, even looks at me with pure disdain. "Dad, you've held Mom and Uncle Kieran back long enough. It's time you let go and let them be together." Rage surges through me. My chest tightens, and everything goes black. When I open my eyes, I'm back 30 years earlier, standing in the Whitmore residence to choose my fiancee. This time, I don't hesitate. I skip right over Raina and choose her aunt, Elara Whitmore.

"Take off your clothes. Spread your legs." "...What? Why?" The voice cut through the silence, and my heart seized. I instinctively covered my stomach. It was the first anniversary of my marriage to Alessandro, the Don of the Santoro family. I was pregnant and had wanted to surprise him. But his secretary, Liliana, had blindfolded me and brought me to this unfamiliar place. "Donna, stop playing the victim. Seducing men is your specialty, isn't it?" "Tonight, in this underground auction house, you are the final item on the block." A chill shot down my spine, and my voice trembled. "Are you insane? I'm the Donna of the Santoro family! I'm carrying his heir! Alessandro will kill you..." Liliana scoffed and ripped off my blindfold. Blinding lights bore down on me. I squinted, and gradually, a man sitting in the VIP section came into view... It was Alessandro! I stared in disbelief as he slowly extinguished the cigar in his hand. "Pregnant? Whose bastard are you carrying?" "It's yours!" I cried out. "Liar!" He raised his hand, and a report was tossed at my feet. The bold letters "PROBABILITY OF PATERNITY: 0%" burned my eyes. He came closer and gripped my chin. "Liliana was right. Women like you are rotten to the core." "My love was never enough to satisfy your greed." "And I, Alessandro, will never raise another man's bastard." Later, he finally learned the child was his. For the first time, the man who was always so composed, arrogant, and in control knelt before me, his voice trembling. "Celeste, I'm begging you... even if you can't forgive me, please, let me make it up to you." But I felt nothing for him anymore.

"I always thought I had found the perf 'Once she gives birth, I’ll divorce her.' 'When I have sex with her, I cover her head with a pillow because the other side of the pillow has your picture It turns out, I was just surrogate tool, and all his affection was fake. So, I When I started a new life, Gu Songqian came knocking on my door: 'Actually, I love both of you equally. From now on, you’ll live on the west side, and she’ll live on the east side, and you won’t disturb each other.'"

I married Emory, my fated mate. But he never loved me. His first love, Ophelia, was stricken with the Lunar Blight. Her dying wish, she said, was to have a mating ceremony with Emory, to become his Luna. I refused. From that day on, to Emory and our son Leo, I was nothing but a selfish, cruel woman. Leo would intentionally feed me things I was allergic to. He’d pretend to get lost during the winter hunt, leaving me to search for him in a blizzard for a day and a night until I nearly died… It was all to keep me from disturbing Emory and Ophelia. So when he started crying and throwing a tantrum, demanding I go catch him a Silver-Frost Rabbit from the dangerous depths of the forest at night, I finally said no. “You don’t have to keep making me sick anymore,” I told him. “I won’t bother your father and Ophelia again.” Because I’m terminally ill. My wolf is fading. I’m going to die soon.