Bts Attack On Bangtan

Back when we were still in love, I heard from someone else that Charlie Grant had been getting unusually close to his secretary. He never offered an explanation. He let me dig for the truth on my own. Over the past five years, I quietly collected countless photos of them together—having lunch, leaving late-night meetings, even traveling for business—but none of them offered conclusive proof of cheating. Until the day he proposed to me. There was a giant screen set up. It was supposed to play a romantic video Charlie had prepared just for the proposal, but the screen suddenly cut to something else. A video of Charlie at a hospital, standing beside his secretary as she underwent a pregnancy check-up. In the video, the doctor clearly referred to Charlie as her husband… and the father of her child. His secretary burst into tears on the spot and apologized to me repeatedly. She sobbed as though she were the victim. Charlie, however, stood there with a cold expression and said flatly, "She's an unwed mother. She was helpless. I was just accompanying her for the checkup. The doctor must've misunderstood." Everyone braced for a dramatic scene. However, I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I only reached up and slowly removed the delicate flower hairpiece from my head. I set the hairpiece down. Then I looked Charlie in the eyes and spoke calmly. "You're right. It is sad that she’s pregnant and all alone. "This marriage proposal was meant for her. Not me." I gave a faint smile. "May you enjoy a blissful life. And… congratulations on the baby."

The night Enzo was made boss of the Moretti family, I gave him my virginity. He was the heir I'd been promised to since before I could speak. We kissed against the floor-to-ceiling windows, tangled in the humid, twilight heat... His rough, urgent hands hurt me, but I didn't pull away. Even the pain felt sacred, a sacrifice I was willing to make for love. Lost in the heat of the moment, he promised me a pair of the most beautiful crystal shoes, so I could dance the opening waltz with him at his coronation ceremony the next day. The first dance is always reserved for the new boss and his future bride. I cried with joy, believing my years of secret pining and patient waiting would finally culminate in a fairytale ending. But I was wrong. So terribly wrong. The next morning, I dragged my aching body out to get his favorite espresso, only to overhear the guys joking as I returned: "So you finally popped the family cherry, huh? How was Vivian on your first night as boss?" Enzo's voice was lazy, mocking. "Face of an angel, body of a devil. She's a hot little viper in bed." The room erupted in sleazy whistles. "So, you really gonna marry her, young boss?" "Are you kidding me?" Enzo scoffed. "Vivian's just a warm-up. Once I get some practice in, I'll go tame the Falcone ice princess. When I get bored, I can always circle back and put a ring on her." I stood frozen in the doorway, my vision blurring, the coffee cup trembling in my hand. Before the world faded to black, I sent a coded message to the Don: "Uncle Romano, for the promotion in three days, get me a transfer. As far away from Enzo as possible."

During a battle with a rival pack, my Alpha mate, Damien, burst into my private healing sanctuary. He was carrying Lyra, a Beta warrior who had supposedly taken a poisoned blade for him. The next day, under the watchful eye of the Moon Goddess, Damien was forced by the pack elders to apologize. He explained that bringing an outsider into my sanctuary was a desperate act in a moment of crisis. After all, Lyra had saved his life. But that night, in the bed we once shared, Lyra stabbed herself with a dagger laced with wolfsbane and framed me for the attack. He chose to believe her. The rejection ceremony ripped my wolf from my soul. I was cast out—a powerless exile, left for dead in a storm, to be torn to shreds by rogues. But what Damien never knew was that the ancient curse afflicting him could only be healed by me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the beginning: the moment Damien carried that woman in, demanding I save her.

By year four of our marriage, Scott had picked up a college girl—Gigi. Bright, beautiful, full of life. She had him, a billionaire, eating street food and chasing after her favorite esports player. Scott called. "Not coming home. Watching Joel Arnoult's match." Beside him, Gigi scoffed. "That boring old woman—does she even know who Joel Arnoult is?" They had no clue. The second the call ended, Joel had me pinned in the back of a dimly lit car. His teeth grazed my neck—sharp, teasing, a little painful. "Leila, if I win, how are you gonna reward me?"

At sixty-five, I got served divorce papers. The same day, my husband Sebastian — decked out in his wedding suit, of all things — popped a handful of sleeping pills in a suicide attempt. For years, we were the perfect couple. The kind of pair neighbors whispered about with envy. I couldn't wrap my head around it. The divorce. The pills. None of it made sense. Not until I found the photo and letter in his pocket.

My Alpha mate, Dominic, rules the entire Stormfang Pack, but in our ten years together, he has never once given me a gift. Even our bonding tokens—a pair of rare healing crystals that cost me an entire year's savings—were taken by him without hesitation. He claimed that as Alpha he needed to appear frugal and understated, which is why he marked me in secret without hosting a proper mating ceremony. Because of this, most pack members don't even know I'm his mate. Yet when Sylvia, his childhood sweetheart, returned to Stormfang territory, he publicly announced their mating plans. He even dipped into the pack's long-term savings to throw her an extravagant celebration. When my mother was attacked by rogue wolves and left critically wounded, I begged Dominic to return my healing crystals—the only things that could save her life. Instead of helping, he denied knowing me in front of the entire pack and ordered his guards to drive me away with burning torches. Later, my mother died during the Blood Moon Festival. I lost my only family during what should have been our most sacred celebration. I renounced my Stormfang membership that same night and accepted the Northern Shadow Pack's Chief Healer position. While packing my belongings, Dominic returned from his honeymoon with Sylvia. He found me and assumed I was merely sulking. For the first time ever, he made a generous offer: "Come on, what could possibly happen to your mother? At worst, I'll give you that fancy mating ceremony you've always wanted. That should satisfy her desire to be an Alpha's mother-in-law." What he didn't realize was that from the moment my mother died, I had already sworn to the Moon Goddess that our mate bond would be broken forever.

At the full moon party before our marking ceremony, my mate Lucas got wasted. I went to pick him up, just like we agreed. Only to walk in on him burying his face in his first love’s neck, marking her with his scent. "Don't ever leave me again, Willow. My wolf only wants you." His first love shot me a triumphant smirk and shoved him into my arms. "Your mate is here. You should go." But Lucas, hiding behind his drunkenness, just looked at me with disgust. "You're the only one for me, Willow! She's just some lowly half-blood Omega. She's just my ride home, don't worry about her." I swallowed my humiliation and took him home, only to find out he wasn't drunk at all. He claimed he only said those things to appease Willow, for the sake of her pack's power. I just turned away. So on the day we were supposed to be bound for life, I ran. If Lucas was still hung up on his first love, then I would grant him his wish and disappear. But I never expected that after I left, he would lose his mind, crying and begging for me to come back.

As the daughter of the Shadow Pack’s Beta, I was born with power, grace, and devotion. Justin, the future Alpha of the pack, was hailed as my fated mate from the moment our paths crossed. I once believed that we were meant to be. With the Moon Goddess bringing us together through a mate bond, even death could not tear us apart. Yet, the illusion was shattered three years ago. Justin pushed me away time and again in the name of repaying an obligation to Marissa, a rogue, for saving his life. Everything that should have been ours, he gave to her, be it our home, title, and our life plans together—all because she said she wasn’t happy. By the ninety-ninth time, the debt of gratitude was finally repaid. I stood at the mating ceremony venue in my gown, filled with anticipation that he would mark me. Alas, all my waiting ended with the news that he had given Marissa a top-tier moonstone, symbolizing eternal love. In that moment, all the pain I had held back came crashing down. My wolf howled in my mind with a voice so primal and sad. For once, I didn’t silence her. I believed it was time to make room for Justin and his lifesaver.

My son has a high fever, so I call my husband. However, he thinks I'm using our child to get his attention. Then, he takes his true love's son to the hospital when he's only scratched his finger. I look at my son, whose face is pale. I ask, "Do you want another father?" He nods. "Yeah. Dad doesn't like me, so I don't want to like him anymore." Later, I find him another father. That's when my husband objects.

In the third year of my engagement to Jack, he found himself a pureblooded, sharp-fanged huntress up in the Northern Territory. The night before my birthday, he brought her to me—just to call off the bond. He looked at me, cold and distant. “Bethel and I both live for the thrill of the night hunt. You're just a greenhouse wolf—soft and sheltered. You’ll never get what makes it all so addictive.” I asked, holding back the hurt, “Did it really have to be today?” He chuckled, “Did breaking a bond require a date on the calendar?” I nodded without arguing. But the next month, we ended up in the same Blood Moon Trial up north. What he didn’t know was—I tasted the rush of the hunt, the heat of blood, and got the champion long before he even came of age. Later, on his birthday, I sealed a life bond with another powerful wolf. He looked at me, red-eyed and hoarse, voice barely his, “Did it have to be today?” I smiled back, “Life bonds need good omens. The moon’s just right tonight.”