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I knew my husband, Josh Perkins, had faked his death and taken on his younger twin brother's identity—but I never said a word. Instead, I went straight to the commander of the military district and filed an official report of my husband's death, requesting his name be permanently removed from the service rolls. In my last life, my brother-in-law died in an accident. Josh gave up his rank as regimental commander, abandoned his own name, and stepped into his brother's shoes—all to spare his fragile sister-in-law from becoming a widow. Back then, I recognized him immediately. I confronted him and demanded to know why he was pretending to be a dead man. But Josh just looked through me, cold as a winter morning. "Riley, I know you're grieving Josh. But I'm not him. Don't mistake me for my brother." He shielded that delicate sister-in-law of his behind him, then shoved me into the icy river and warned me not to harbor delusions. Later, our five-year-old daughter cried, asking why her daddy didn't want her anymore. For that, she was dragged to the cowshed for "reflection"—left there, starving, for three days and nights. My mother-in-law called me a curse, a jinx who'd killed her son, and threw my daughter and me out with nothing but the clothes on our backs. Josh made sure everyone knew I'd "gone mad"—that I was lusting after my brother-in-law before my husband was even cold in the ground. The whole town turned their backs on us. That last winter, I wandered the streets with my girl, dazed and numb, until the cold finally took us both. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back to the very day Josh buried his old life and stole his brother's.

I followed an account of a couple that was not very popular but was very sweet. The account recorded every detail of the account owner and her boyfriend. They would argue over a plate of pasta and then look at each other and smile, playfully calling the other person a child at heart. They would hug tightly under the starry sky on a mountain top and say that they wished time could stop at this moment. Although the account owner never showed her face, I was still touched by her captions. The account was updated again the day before I was getting married. [Ten years of love ends here. From now on, he's just her husband, and I'm just her best friend. This account will no longer be updated. I wish my best friend and her beloved man a happy ever after.] The photo showed my fiancé, Josh Clark, and me, taken from behind.

I leave my boyfriend without a word when he's at his lowest. He later makes a name for himself and forces me to marry him. Our relationship goes viral online and becomes the subject of everyone's envy. They all say he's desperately in love with me, but he later sleeps with other women in our bed. I fall from grace and become the city's biggest laughingstock. I don't cause a scene. Instead, I move into the guest bedroom and leave the master bedroom for them. He's furious as he grips my neck roughly. He bites my lips, drawing blood. "Why aren't you mad?" Because I'm sick. I don't have the time to wait for him to see the error of his ways anymore.

At the underground black market auction in New York, Lorenzo Moretti won a rare red diamond with a bid so high it made jaws drop. The entire Commission was waiting for the other shoe to drop—waiting to see me become a joke. Because in the Moretti family, every time Lorenzo gives away a diamond, it represents another one of his betrayals. White diamonds are hush money to cover up tabloid scandals. Blue diamonds mean he had a "slip-up" at some wild party. Pink diamonds mean I caught him in his private apartment, rolling in the sheets with another woman with my own eyes. But this time was different. It was a rare red diamond. Everyone guessed the Don was preparing to divorce me. Instead, Lorenzo publicly declared his love. He said this red diamond represented a "Blood Oath"—a symbol of his true heart and loyalty to me. He said that from now on, he would return to the family and pledge his allegiance only to me. Everyone congratulated me on finally taming the Sicilian Wolf. I, however, left the signed divorce papers in the safe, and all alone, I left him forever.

My mother-in-law brings a woman from the countryside. She looks like she's up to no good when she asks my husband and I to care for the woman. My husband is a mama's boy through and through. His gaze darts around, and he doesn't object to his mother's words. Is it a trend nowadays for people to serve mistresses on a silver platter? It looks like I'll have to do my best in "caring" for them, then…

At my mating ceremony, Alpha Derek's stepsister Victoria arrived wearing the $30 million Luna ceremonial gown he claimed our pack couldn't afford. Victoria pushed me into the ceremonial fire, and as the flames scorched my skin, Derek shouted at me for ruining the ceremony and embarrassing him in front of everyone. They left for our honeymoon together—the one I paid for with my own money. Wolves from the rival pack surrounded me. My wolf couldn't shift because of pregnancy. Through our mind link, I begged Derek for help. He blocked me while kissing Victoria on a Maldives beach. As the rival Alpha's claws tore into my womb, my unborn child died in pieces. Derek returned with tears, begging forgiveness. Like a fool, I gave it. What he doesn't know: I am the Alpha heiress of the Northern Territories' most powerful pack. Severing our mate bond isn't enough. I will take everything from him.

The night my sister died during a failed emergency procedure, a gang of thugs stopped the car that was taking me to the funeral home. They desecrated her body right in front of me, then beat me until every bone in my body felt shattered and the tendons in my hands were severed. The next day, the news that my hands were ruined and I would never be able to operate again made the headlines. Because of that, my fiancée of eight years, Sandra Walker, broke off our engagement. The very next day, she left for an overseas medical conference with the man she had always loved. When I was on the verge of collapse, Sandra's aunt, Magnolia Walker, set off fireworks for me and announced our wedding to the entire city. "Kayden Foster, I've loved you for so long. Now, I can finally stand by your side. In this life, you're the only man I want to marry!" In that endless despair, I clung to her as my only lifeline. On our wedding day, after I came back from paying my respects to my sister, I accidentally overheard Magnolia talking to her assistant, Robin Myers. "Dr. Walker, for your niece Sandy to be able to marry Quinton Kerr, I arranged for an intern to operate on Kayden's sister, hired people to cripple him, and had his sister's body violated. The police are still investigating, and I'm starting to get a little nervous. Isn't this too cruel?" After a brief silence, Magnolia spoke in a tired voice. "What choice did I have? Kayden was too proud. If I hadn't removed the sister he depended on and ruined both his hands, how could I make him fall apart? How else could I have made him break things off with Sandy without anyone suspecting a thing? "Quin and I were never meant to be in this life. As long as he's happy, that's enough..."

My husband's first love posted a video on her social media. In the video, the two of them were passing a playing card with their lips. When the card fell, their lips met in a kiss. They didn't stop—lost in the moment, they kissed passionately for an entire minute. Her caption read: [Still the same clumsy piggy! PS: Steve's skills are as good as ever!] I quietly liked the post and left a comment: [Congrats.] The next second, my husband called, yelling at me furiously, "No other woman is as dramatic as you! I was just playing a game with Lanie. Why are you acting crazy again?" It was then that I realized seven years of love meant nothing. It was time for me to leave.

I waited for my boyfriend for three hours at his birthday party. Sean Ziegler was supposed to show up dressed as the star of night. However, his secret lover, Josie Sullivan, called him to the hospital. She had pretended to sprain her ankle. There, she recorded a video of her and Sean kissing. In the heat of the moment, Sean stood up and pushed her against the door. But he was supposed to be paralyzed. “Sean, why haven’t you told Wendy that your legs are fine now?” “If she knows, she’ll pressure me to marry her. Seriously, who does she think she is? Wendy’s just a free maid. She’s not good enough to be my wife,” Sean said in a muffled voice. After that, he continued to kiss Josie intensely. Wearing the wedding dress I had designed, Josie looked provocatively into the camera. The video then ended with the sounds of them kissing. It turned out that Sean had been lying to me all along. I threw the cake that I made for him into the trash. Then, I texted my mom. [Mom, I’ll go on that blind date.]

My husband, Jonathan Rivers, was a notorious playboy in Polesburg's elite circles. Beautiful women surrounded him constantly, yet he claimed to have fallen for me at first sight, saying it was a love that would last forever. He dismissed all the other women around him for my sake. Everyone said I was his destined soulmate. Seven years into our marriage, I had seven abortions for him, simply because he said he did not like children. Then on Father's Day, I saw him on his secretary's social media feed. The same man who claimed to be away on business was there with a child beside him, calling him "Daddy" loudly. It turned out that when he said he did not like children, he meant that he did not like children with me. I dialed his number through tears. "Do you want another wife?"