Blank Autopsy Report

Just one second before Alpha Daniel’s fated mark burned into my skin, a sharp voice pierced the air at the bonding ceremony. “Stop!” Jessica, Daniel’s first love, stumbled forward, her belly swollen. “Are you all really going to let this vicious woman become your Luna?” she cried, pointing at me with trembling hands. “She’s been torturing me for months! She poisoned my tea, left knives at my door, and tried to force me to abort Alpha’s pup!” My mind went blank at her sudden, fabricated accusations. “What? I didn’t—” Before I could finish, Jessica lunged toward me. Acting on instinct, I raised my arm to block her, but she collapsed heavily to the floor. “My pup!” she shrieked. “Daniel, look! She’s trying to hurt us again! Call the enforcers to arrest her!” In the next heartbeat, Daniel rushed forward, shielding Jessica in his arms without hesitation. He looked at me, his gaze cold and disappointed. “Rosie, why couldn’t you just behave? This pup is our pack’s heir!” Around us, the elders exchanged dark, knowing glances, silently condemning me. With no way to prove my innocence, I was sentenced to three years in the nightmare Silver Prison. Whips, hunger, endless violence… Eventually, I learned what Daniel really meant by “behave”. But why was he the one who regretted it?

"I want her." he said coldly sipping onto his wine staring at the grey eyed enchantress standing in front of him taking in her curves and flawless smooth skin. "She's his mate." his beta proclaimed widening his eyes at the reckless demand of his alpha. "So?" his alpha asked him coldly like it didn't affected him a bit. "But she is forbidden and---" his beta tried to make him understand but a one cold look from his alpha made his mouth clipped shut. He moved his blank gaze towards the girl tempting him without even trying and sternly said "I want her." And that was it, the end of the discussion because what he wants he gets it by hook or by crook. Daxon Valor, the alpha of the blood moon night pack is what people and all of the packs fear of. He is powerful and a rude, arrogant alpha who fears nothing. But he was not like this from the birth the death of his mate made him like this so cruel and ruthless because he loved his mate more than his own life. Hazel Suarez, the wife of alpha Alexander Suarez of nightingale pack is the beauty everyone wants to take a look at. But to even look at her is forbidden for everyone. But Alpha Daxon Valor has his eyes on her now. He wants her at any cost for himself.

Before the flight takes off, my fiance, the pilot, boards the plane with a suitcase. He says it's a gift from his childhood sweetheart and warns me not to touch it. I can't shake the uneasy feeling creeping into my heart, so I sneak inside. To my shock, I find high-risk contraband hidden in the luggage. I report it immediately and use my commendation to cover for Edward's mistake and save his career. However, his precious childhood sweetheart is arrested, detained, and sentenced. He doesn't say a word after the incident. However, during another flight, he cuts the cord to my parachute. "Jade, I know you're jealous of Cindy! You sabotaged her during her flight attendant training and framed her afterward! Do you think this will make me love you? Dream on! I would never marry a petty woman like you!" I plunge from ten thousand meters above the ground, leaving nothing but blood and broken bones behind. When I open my eyes again, I see Cindy sending Edward off, and he's carrying the same suitcase. I quietly step back and decide I won't save him this time.

My mate, Raelor Thorne, is the Alpha of the Silvermoon Pack. He once swore that in this lifetime, he would mark only me. Yet one month before our marking ceremony, he insisted that he must first mark with Seraphine Morcant, his late brother's mate. He claimed it was to comfort her and preserve his brother's bloodline. He said he would help her conceive an heir, so the line would not die. I refused. He brought it up every day after that, pressing harder each time, leaving me no room to breathe. Then, half a month before the ceremony, I received a report from the Pack Healing Sanctum. It stated clearly that Seraphine had already been marked and was nearly one month pregnant. In that moment, I finally understood. Raelor had never intended to ask for my consent. So I canceled the marking ceremony. I burned every token that tied us together. On the day we were meant to bind our lives, I left Silvermoon Territory alone. I traveled to the Obsidian Pack to further my mastery of healing arts and formally accepted the position of Chief Healer within their Order. From that day forward, there would be nothing left between Raelor and me. No bond. No mercy. No return.

After three years of pretending to be dead on livestreams, I finally earned enough money to treat my daughter. I was about to go home and tell my wife and daughter when I overheard a call between the platform administrator and my wife. The administrator said humbly, “Chairman Morgan, Mr. Wells’s livestreams have generated tens of millions in revenue over these years. “The company withheld ninety-five percent of it. Should we keep withholding more?” Stacy fell silent for a moment before answering, “No need. Three years of testing him is enough. He barely moves year-round. He even developed muscle atrophy and didn’t tell me.” John’s voice came through the phone next. He said, “Stacy, Sam can even pretend to be dead, so what if this is an act too? “Besides, Emma’s already used to Sam being gone, so she probably won’t accept having a dad again anytime soon.” After some hesitation, my wife said indifferently, “If that’s the case, then withhold it for another six months.” I smiled and tossed the diagnosis report confirming amyotrophic lateral sclerosis into the trash. There was no need for them to test me anymore. I no longer needed to pretend.

I came into this world like a queen ascending her throne, flanked by three fierce guardians sworn to defend my reign. My husband is the best lawyer in Ardenfield. Though he's unbeatable in court, he doesn't dare stand up to me when I scold him at home. My childhood sweetheart leads the criminal investigation team and is a genius at solving cases. He even vows to eliminate any threat that surrounds me. Meanwhile, my adoptive brother is a rising star in the business world. Having inherited the Joplin family's business empire at an early age, he spends money on me without hesitation. Today marks both my seventh wedding anniversary and my birthday. I spend the entire day waiting for them at a rooftop restaurant, clutching a pregnancy test report in my hands. But instead of basking in celebration, I receive the heartbreaking news that my five-year-old daughter has drowned. To make matters worse, my husband decides to defend the culprit in court. When I cry out in agony, my childhood sweetheart puts me in handcuffs. My adoptive brother even goes to the extreme of reclaiming everything he has ever given me. "Louise, it was just an unfortunate accident between two children. Will you let Violet's son go now?"

My mom often makes an example out of someone when it comes to parenting. Unfortunately, I'm that someone, while my little brother, Raymond Nelson, benefits from it. Ever since I was four years old, my mom had been using this method. If Raymond breaks a bowl, I'm the one kneeling on the floor to pick up the pieces. If Raymond destroys something belonging to someone else, I'm the one writing the reflection report on his behalf. Mom tells me, "You're the older sister here. Since you can't keep your brother in line, you're the one at fault." But Raymond can never get rid of his bad habit of stealing and lying. When Franklin Harris, the owner of a grocery store, comes knocking on our door, Raymond points at me once again. "She was the one who stole your money!" In order to help Raymond get rid of this problematic habit of his, Mom decides to hand me over to the owner. "Sorry, Franklin. It's my fault for not raising my child well. I'll give my daughter to you. You can do whatever you want to her, be it scolding her or beating her up." Little does she know that I will never go home after Mr. Harris takes me away.

On the day the SAT results are revealed, the fake heiress, Layla Sanders, colluded with our homeroom teacher, Richard Hoffman, to report me for cheating during the exam. When I stared at both copies of the exam papers that showed the same steps and formulas, I couldn't defend myself at all. In order to preserve Layla's pride, my own parents actually forced me to admit to stealing the exam questions in advance. Then, they had me forcibly admitted into a mental asylum. The Sanders family claimed that I had gone crazy just so they could keep this particular skeleton sealed in the closet. They abandoned me, letting me be tormented endlessly in the asylum. When I finally escaped from the asylum, I died in a car crash that was meticulously staged by Layla. Only on the verge of my death did I finally realize that the so-called "blood is thicker than water" mentality was nothing compared to a tear shed by Layla. The moment I open my eyes again, I've gotten reborn in the exam hall. This time, I choose to submit my exam paper without anything scribbled on it. I'd like to see just how someone with a total of zero points can possibly copy off the so-called top scorer of SAT.

In my previous life, my sister thought that since my husband and I had high-paying jobs, she could swap her son with my child without anyone noticing. But twenty-five years later, the tables turned. My son had grown into a street thug, while her son—raised under my care—rose smoothly through life. Young as he was, he had already become a CEO. He was dutiful, bought me a villa, and even sent me traveling around the world. My sister barged into his company, waving a DNA test report, kicking up a scene, only to be thrown out by security. "Mr. Kieran said that even if you are his biological mother, you never gave him a single day of care," they told her. "So he refuses to acknowledge you." Breaking down completely, she drove her car into me and ended my life. When I opened my eyes again, we had returned to the very day she switched our babies. This time, my sister clutched her own child tightly, a wild, triumphant grin on her face. "From now on, you can be the mother of a street thug," she sneered. "The villa and all those riches—they're mine!"

My name is Elvira Rossi, daughter of Don Rossi, head of the Itavelle mafia family. Three months ago, my father was killed. Our operations were stripped bare, nothing left. The accounts were draining fast, and the family still had mouths to feed. Then a DNA report surfaced out of nowhere. According to it, I was the LaRosa family's long‑lost true heiress, missing for eighteen years. Money, at last, had found its way to me. For the sake of my people, I was willing to set aside my pride and play the part of a sheltered heiress. The car sent to escort me back to the estate broke down halfway up the mountain? I steadied it with one hand and carried it the rest of the way to the hilltop manor. The fake heiress dissolved into tears, accusing me of pushing her? I answered by striking the century-old tree in the courtyard, splitting it clean through. She went silent immediately. My fiancé sent bodyguards to "teach me self‑defense"? My two friends politely introduced them to the concept of being permanently embedded in a wall. As my so‑called "family" shook in fear, my knuckles cracked softly. After all, before inheriting the mafia, I inherited my father's favorite rule: "If violence can solve it, don't waste words."