Cracked Phone Screen Prank

Despite a decade of marriage, Simon never once shared my bed, claiming that he had pledged himself to ascetic practices and that it was beneath him. I thought that he suffered from some shameful ailment and guarded his secret like a devoted fool, until my birthday, when I came home to find him entangled with a brothel worker before the floor-length mirror. When I lunged forward in rage, he drove a shard of that broken mirror straight through my heart. When I awoke, I was gripping my phone, its screen illuminating a message Simon had just sent: [I’ll still give you a lavish wedding, but the marriage certificate? That belongs to her.]

It was finally here; the one day of the year that always filled me with excitement and anticipation: our third wedding anniversary with my beloved husband, Alpha Andrew Wright. The sharp, insistent beeping of my phone sliced through the quiet room, halting me in my tracks to find my husband. On the screen was a picture that struck me like a brutal kick. It was Andrew, lying naked and clinging to another woman whose face was blurred. My eyes widened as I stared at the screen, this was not what I wanted on my marriage anniversary. -------------------- Alicia has known her Alpha husband Andrew for years and they got married three years ago. She has tried hard to win her husband’s heart. But her husband cheated on his stepsister and dropped a bomb on their marriage. Cried and heartbroken, Alicia left her pack with her daughter and went to a new pack. She found a new secretary job here, and unexpectedly her new sexual Alpha boss Brian was her second chance mate. And soon Brian told her that they were going on a business trip to her ex-husband’s pack. The ex wanted her back but Alicia would never allow that.

I was lying in bed, scrolling on my phone with my pregnant belly heavy in front of me, when a local news alert popped up. 'Wife killed in suburban murder case. Husband stabbed her to death after she refused intimacy during pregnancy.' I clicked it open, only to realize the article was dated for tomorrow. And the killer's name? My husband's. At first, I thought it was some sick prank or a glitch on the site. But then I saw the photo attached to the piece: our wedding picture. My face had been completely blurred out. The moment my heart seized, the bedroom door creaked open. My husband stood there, licking his lips, his smile so chilling it made my blood run cold. "Honey, I want you tonight."

As the upcoming tour approached, the dance troupe suddenly revoked my position as the lead dancer. Anxious to get an explanation in person, I lost my footing due to my distracted state and tumbled down the stairs. While enduring the sharp pain and preparing to call for emergency services, a notification popped up on my phone screen: “Redwood Dance Troupe: Welcome our new lead dancer, Averil Wells, and our generous sponsor, Julian Ford." The accompanying photo featured two smiling faces—my husband of seven years, whom I had secretly married, and his pampered mistress. Julian had his arm wrapped around Averil's waist as he placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. Meanwhile, Averil clung to Julian's neck, her face radiating shyness and delight.

At three in the morning, I stare at the unknown transaction record on my phone screen, my fingertips turning cold. The record is for a payment of 2980 dollars, made for an executive suite at the Wisteria. The time of payment was 8:00 pm last night. My husband, Tristan Griffin, is a detective. He was on the night shift last night. I clutch my phone, my knuckles turning white as I text Tristan, "I just saw your credit card bill for a hotel stay last night. What's up with that?" His reply is instant. "Our team had to work overtime at the last minute, so they put us up at the hotel. I forgot to tell you about it." I scan the text and sputter. The Wisteria is located in the western region of the city, which is on the other end from where his squad is stationed. I don't press him for more details and click on the bank app on my phone. Having found the vendor's address through the payment record, I sent it to my best friend, Rowena Sheffield, who works as a private detective. She replies instantly with an "OK" emoji and follows up with, "Give me a second. I'll find out everything you want in a jiffy!"

My adopted sister, Rebecca Lawson, steals the gift I painstakingly prepared for the Don and presents it at a family gathering. Everyone in the room is stunned. So, my parents turned what was supposed to be my engagement party into a celebration banquet for Rebecca. They sit together and raise their champagne glasses to toast her, while I collapse alone in the bathroom, hitting my head and bleeding out. After regaining some consciousness, I use all my strength to call them for help, but only the mafia's consigliere and my fiance—Yves Gilbert—answers my calls. "Tessa, why didn't you come to Rebecca's celebration? She felt hurt by your absence! I know you've always been jealous that she could easily gain everyone's affection, but it's what she deserves. "Quickly come over and apologize to Rebecca. Don't disappoint us any further." Yves hangs up the phone after saying that. I stare at the darkened phone screen with an unsightly smile. They don't know that the gift I have prepared for the Don is still a half-finished product and needs to be repaired. However, I don't have the time to tell them. Because I am about to die of illness.

Penelope Rivera's little boy toy, Theodore Schneider, is throwing another tantrum. She slides the divorce papers across the table toward me. "Just sign them for show. It's to keep Teddy happy." I clench the cuff of my suit and nod in silence. I sign my name in one swift stroke. As I'm walking out, I hear one of her girlfriends teasing, "Samuel's way too easygoing. Does he actually do everything you say?" Penelope takes a graceful sip of red wine and smirks. "Wanna bet?" They bet that I will quietly go through with the divorce at the courthouse, even if my eyes are red with tears. Listening their laughter, I rub my thumb over my phone screen and reply to the message I've just received. "Will you marry me?" it says. "I will."

Samantha Granger's daughter, Celine Hamley, was critically ill and urgently needed a bone marrow transplant from her biological father, Calvin Hamley. But the man Celine called Dad was busy building a castle for his first love's daughter and lighting up the entire city with fireworks for her birthday. Samantha made call after call, but when Calvin finally picked up, he said, "I'm busy." Then the phone went dead. In the end, Celine's hand went cold, and she died. Calvin didn't even see her one last time. Samantha walked out of the funeral home with an urn. Every LED screen downtown was playing a birthday celebration video. The three people who had trampled over Celine's life were smiling, singing the birthday song, and dreaming aloud of a beautiful future. Samantha had once loved Calvin with everything she had. Now, she hated him just as much.

"Ms. Rowe, are you certain you want to delete all identity records? Once they're erased, you'll be completely removed from the system. No one will be able to find you again." Eva Rowe pauses for a moment before nodding with quiet resolve. "Yes. I want to disappear from this world. I want to make sure no one can ever find me." Two seconds of silence follow on the other end, as if they're giving her one last chance to reconsider. "Understood, Ms. Rowe. The wipeout protocol will be completed within 14 days. By then, you'll be officially 'dead' in all databases. Please make the necessary arrangements." With that, the call ends. Eva books a one-way ticket to Felnor, scheduled for 14 days later. Then, she turns off her phone, watching as the screen goes dark. She stands by the floor-to-ceiling window, staring out at the endless city lights, and lets out a soft, cold laugh. She is no longer anyone's Eva.

Introduction At my mating ceremony with Blake Morrison, the Alpha heir I'd loved for eight years, his childhood sweetheart texted him a pregnancy test photo. He didn't hesitate for a second. He canceled our mating ceremony and rushed off to take care of his childhood sweetheart. After he left the ceremony hall, his childhood sweetheart posted photos on the big screen behind me. Photos of the two of them tangled together in my bedroom. Then Blake sent me a message: "I was drunk that night. Ivy is carrying my child, and I need to be there for her." "She wanted to hide the pregnancy and raise the pup alone, but she's an Omega. It's too hard for an Omega to raise a child by herself, especially when she's competing to be the Pack's Head Healer... I can't ruin her future, and I can't abandon an innocent life." "You're an Alpha wolf. High-ranking wolves don't get pregnant easily, and you've always wanted children quickly, right? After she gives birth, I'll arrange for her to study advanced healing at the Alliance. You can raise the child, and they'll only know you as their mother." When I didn't reply, he added another message: "The official marking and re-scheduling our mating ceremony will have to wait until after Ivy gives birth." I stared at my phone screen, laughing until my eyes burned with tears. I was the only Alpha heiress of the Stormfang Pack, the strongest pack in Southern territories. Did he really think that I had no choice but to pick him as my mate? I dialed the Alpha King Kane Blackwood's number directly: "Are you still willing to be my mate?"