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At the Thorn Pack banquet, Jacob Mason carefully cut the steak on my plate. His gentlemanly demeanor and meticulous attention to detail drew envious glances from those around us. "Our Alpha is so good to our Luna," a voice murmured from across the table. "You won’t find a more devoted mate in all of Southspire." I glanced at Jacob, a sweet warmth unfurled in my chest. I silently tightened my grip around the Moonstone Ring—a ring my father had left me, the symbol of power in the Lotus Pack. I had planned to give it to Jacob when the banquet ended, when we were alone. But as the evening wore on, the noise and the clinking of glasses became too much to bear. I feigned a slight dizziness, excusing myself to return to our castle ahead of him. In truth, I needed the time to prepare a surprise—something special to commemorate this night. When everything was set, I silently slipped back into the banquet hall, ready to take Jacob by the hand and whisk him away. But as I arrived, I stopped dead in my tracks. There he was, holding Hazel Rhea tightly in his arms. "Chloe is so rigid," he said. "Always clinging to the dignity of being the Lotus Pack Alpha's daughter. How could she ever compare to Hazel's passion?" "Don't worry," he added, his tone light with mock reassurance. "Hazel and I are just friends. Chloe won't feel betrayed." He laughed softly. "But don't tell her, alright? She's so old-fashioned—if she found out, she'd leave me for sure. Honestly, the thought of spending the rest of my life with such a dull partner… It's exhausting." Just friends? Is that what he called the way his hand slid beneath her dress—being "just friends"? I didn't interrupt them. There was no need to disturb their lively conversation. Instead, I slid the Moonstone Ring onto my finger. Without a word, I turned and left. In the quiet of the night, Xavier Grey—who had been following me all along—waited. Together, we set off on the journey I should have taken long ago.

I'd been with Alpha Adrian Grant for eight years, but he never once allowed me to go public with our relationship. On the eve of my birthday, I learned he'd bid on a priceless moonstone ring at auction. I could barely contain my excitement—I thought he was finally going to claim me openly. But on my birthday, I saw the photos on the news. Adrian, kissing another she-wolf. And on Vivian's hand—the one wrapped around his neck—was the very moonstone ring I'd been dreaming about. It hit me like a bolt of lightning. I drove toward Moonlight Forest, but halfway there, a pack of rogues ambushed me. Desperate, I reached through the mate bond, trying to connect with Adrian. Every single time, he shut me out. Just when I'd given up hope, a passerby drove the rogues off and rushed me to the hospital. My pup was gone—lost in the attack. I called Adrian through my tears, over and over. On the twenty-fifth try, the call finally connected. But the voice I heard wasn't his. "Ugh, so annoying. You promised you'd spend today with me—just me. Why are you taking calls from other she-wolves?" Adrian immediately set me aside, his tone turning honey-sweet as he soothed the woman in his arms. "I know, I know. I'll ignore her. She's just some orphan with no family—how could she possibly compare to you?" Their smug laughter pierced through the phone like a knife to the chest. But what they didn't know was this: I was the true daughter of the Oceanridge Pack Alpha—his only heir. Vivian Blake was nothing more than a girl my family had taken in out of pity. I opened the mind-link to my father. "Dad, I'm coming home. And that arranged mating you mentioned—I agree. But I have two conditions. First, remove Vivian from the pack. Second, cut all ties with Crescent Moon Pack and pull every cent of funding we've ever given them."

After three years of relentless pursuit, I finally won over Logan—a guy who had never shown the slightest interest in women—and he cherished me like I was his entire world. On the eve of our wedding, I accidentally overheard one of his friends teasing him, "Logan, are you really ready to step into the grave of marriage for Bella? And what about Joann? She's chased you for so many years. Don't you feel anything for her?" Logan's voice was cold. "If we hadn't grown up together, I wouldn't even want to see Joann's face. She could never compare to Bella, ever." So, I held onto dreams for our future, and I married him. Two years later, at our daughter's hundred-day celebration, Joann came to me in tears, claiming her baby had leukemia—and that only my daughter could save her baby. Logan's eyes reddened instantly, and without hesitation, he sent our daughter into the operating room to have her blood drawn. I struggled in the bodyguards' grip desperately, crying and pleading, "Logan, Lily is still so little. She can't take this. She'll die! Please, use the cord blood I stored for her. I'm begging you, let her go." He kicked me aside. "It's just a bit of blood. Joann's baby is dying, and you're still this selfish? Get out!" When the surgery was over, he tossed a divorce agreement at me. "Joann's child is mine. I have to give them both a name, and I'm taking her abroad for treatment." I stared at my silent, motionless daughter in the operating room, my heart turning to ash. "Fine." Six years later, Logan saw me in a baby store, holding the hand of my five-year-old son. Logan reached out with a pained look, trying to pick him up. "Why did you cut Lily's hair so short? She looks like a boy. What were you thinking?"

I was known all throughout high society as the perfect, obedient daughter. Suitors lined up at my door in droves, yet I insisted on marrying Grayson Thatcher, whose family fortune had crumbled, all because of a promise we made when we were young. I thought we would be partners building a life together, but he fell deeply in love with his childhood sweetheart, a girl who spent her days running wild. The night before our wedding, he went street racing with her and they both got arrested, causing him to miss the ceremony entirely. The scandal made it everywhere. On New Year's Eve, he left me to organize the family banquet alone while he ran off with his childhood sweetheart to some crowded plaza. To see a different display of fireworks, they set fire to balloons people had released into the sky and triggered a massive blaze. Once again, I exhausted every connection I had to get him out of the mess. I cleaned up 999 of his reckless mistakes and kept the Thatcher family's business afloat, making sure he could live without a care in the world. I thought that eventually, he would at least remember some small part of what we meant to each other. Yet when I fell critically ill and needed a heart transplant, he took the only available donor heart and gave it to his childhood sweetheart instead. That was the first time I broke down and demanded answers. He stared at me, cold and unmoved. "You have the nerve to ask me that? If you hadn't forced yourself on me, I would've gotten together with Maeve years ago. You're as stiff as an old lady. How could you ever compare to someone like her? She's full of life. "I've let you play Mrs. Thatcher for over a decade. I was more than generous. Maeve is going to be my wife now. When she dies, we'll be buried together. You won't even get that much." I died consumed by bitterness and rage. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the matchmaking event. I picked up the marriage proposal the Thatchers had sent and tore it to pieces. Then, I reached for the one from the wealthiest family in the room and smiled. "Dad, if I have to get married anyway, I might as well marry the man with the most money and power."

My girlfriend is the true heiress of a wealthy family, yet she suffers from severe paranoia. She's convinced that everyone is out to exploit her. She never believed in my love. In her eyes, I stayed with her only for status and money. To prove my sincerity, during our seven years together, I never spent a single cent of hers. I handed over every paycheck I earned. As for myself, I couldn't even afford a few dollars for a taxi. Every day, I walked five kilometers to work. Then one day, my mother was in a sudden car accident. The doctor called and told me to come see her for the last time. The hospital was thirty kilometers away. There was no way I could make it on foot in time. Left with no choice, I asked my girlfriend to transfer me thirty dollars for a taxi. She flew into a rage. "Simon, thirty dollars is your entire monthly living expense. How dare you ask me for that much all at once? I almost believed your feelings were genuine. But now I see—you're no different from those gold-diggers!" In the end, I never made it to see my mother one last time. When I returned home in a daze, I found my girlfriend throwing a birthday party for her childhood sweetheart. He was wearing the latest luxury watch, his face full of smug pride. "This is the one you bought at an overseas auction, right? Worth thirty million," he said. "You wouldn't even give Simon thirty dollars for a taxi. You're really generous with me." My girlfriend smiled indulgently. "It's only thirty million. It's not like I can't afford it. "Besides, how could Simon ever compare to you? Today, he dares to ask me for thirty. Tomorrow, he'll dare to ask me for thirty thousand. "I've always known it. He's been with me just to take my money." I stood there, frozen, my heart sinking into the abyss. 'It's fine. I don't want her money anymore. And I don't want her, either.'

My mom, Gina Lowry, uses the six million dollars from selling our family hotel to buy my cousin, Harry Sullivan, a villa. The next day, my fiancé of five years, Charles Gomez, dumps me. "Vivian, this is the end for us," Charles says, sitting in the café of a five-star hotel. His tone is so matter-of-fact that it sounds as if he's merely discussing a business deal. The engagement ring in my hand suddenly feels burning hot. I ask, "Why? Our wedding is next month." He stirs his coffee casually and replies, "Your family is known for favoring sons above all else. I looked into it. Your parents sold off the family business and gave all the assets to your cousin, Harry." A chill runs through my whole body as I argue, "That was my parents' decision. It has nothing to do with me!" "Does it really have nothing to do with you?" Charles looks up, his gaze sharp. "You're a daughter of the Sullivan family. In the future, you'll have to keep supporting your useless cousin endlessly. My family won't have any part in such an unreasonable practice. It's simply too embarrassing." In a trembling voice, I plead, "Charles, we've been together for five years. Is what we have less than these worldly considerations?" He lets out a light scoff. "What we have? Vivian, you're 28. How are you still this naive? In our circle, marriage is never just about two people." He stands up and adjusts the cuff of his custom suit. "I hope you find someone more suitable for you." I watch his resolute back as he walks away. Biting my lip hard, I refuse to let the tears fall. My phone chimes as a message from my mom comes in. In the photo, Harry is standing in front of a luxury villa with his arm around the influencer girlfriend he's been dating for three months. He is smiling smugly, like he's at the top of the world. Mom sounds overjoyed in her voice message. "Vivian, look how grand Harry's new home is! Now, he won't have to worry about his marital home when he gets married!" I stare at the photo and laugh through my tears. The moment I leave the family group chat and block all my relatives, my fingertips feel ice-cold. I sneer inwardly, "Since a daughter can never compare to a son in your hearts, then from now on, that precious nephew of yours will be your only family. When he drives you out of the villa bought with your entire savings, I wonder if you'll remember the daughter you abandoned today."