Novel & Cerita Dulce Report

After I, Wynn Jaffe, the Chief Forensic Pathologist, submitted my request to transfer into a clerical position, everyone in the department lit up with joy and approved it unanimously. Everyone except my boyfriend’s childhood friend, Yvette Hans, the rookie forensic doctor who called herself the ‘corpse whisperer,’ completely broke down. She burst into my office, grabbed onto my white coat with both hands with reddened eyes. “Senior, your skills may be outdated, but I truly hope you’ll stay and keep speaking up for the victims!” I coldly shrugged off her hand, packed my things, and walked away. In my previous life, she claimed herself as the ‘corpse whisperer,’ someone who could commune with the dead, hear their murmurs, and know what happened to them before they died. I worked tirelessly on every autopsy, dissecting, analyzing, and revising my reports. She only needed a single glance at the body to recite my entire report word-for-word. The victims’ families treated her like a saint, while they sneered at me, accusing me of disrespecting the dead. I could not accept it. I poured everything I had into every examination, but she always beat me to it, revealing the truth before I could. In the end, an extreme group of grieving family members, convinced I desecrated a corpse, kidnapped me, dismembered me, and dumped my remains in the wilderness. When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn back to the very day Yvette first claimed she was a corpse whisperer.

As my murderer's claws tear into my abdomen inch by inch, my father and brother are seated in our family's banquet hall. They're celebrating Carly's 18th birthday and coming-of-age. "You'll always be my little girl." "Happy birthday, Carly." They light 18 pink candles for her. On top of the exquisite red velvet cake is a wolf figurine that they carved for her, and there are well wishes and laughter all around. Meanwhile, I'm curled up in a sewer filled with liquid silver as I bleed to death. My phone has been crushed, and I can't get out. I can only cry for help. A few days later, my father and brother show up together at the autopsy room. My brother stands by the operating table with a scalpel. He slices open the body and sews it back up like it's nothing. My father just covers his nose as he shoots a disgusted glance at my body. He urges my brother to hurry up with the autopsy report. "The victim is a young female wolf presumed to be of pure lineage. Before her death, she was subjected to prolonged captivity and torture. Her throat is nearly severed, her cervical spine is dislocated, and her chest cavity has collapsed. She was also injected with liquid silver before death." Hearing the report, my father looks so calm that it's just like a case study of no consequence. Neither of them can recognize that the body belongs to me—their daughter and sister!

On the day Fiona Starr and Mark Zimmer tied the knot, his childhood friend jumped off the Starr family's thirty-story apartment and was reduced to pieces. The wedding wasn't called off, but in the ensuing three years, Mark's poker face became even more creepy, even though he would do everything Fiona asked. Then, when Fiona was three months pregnant, she was told that her father had gone missing. But instead of taking her to file a police report, Mark took her up the peak of the mountain, where Fiona saw her father. His whole body was swollen and bleeding everywhere, and he was barely alive as he lay on the ground. There were puddles of his blood everywhere, after someone tied him to a car trunk and dragged him up along the mountain road. That was when Mark gave Fiona the same treatment, even though she was pregnant with his child. As his car dragged her up and down the mountain, her legs were reduced to bloody stumps, but she didn't die there. So she locked her up in a basement in the company of rats that nibbled and devoured her legs. She despaired, her mind breaking until she eventually stopped breathing too… But she opened her eyes again and found herself returning to the day before she married Mark, whom everyone called the Starr family's live-in son-in-law. Smiling through her tears, she told herself that she wouldn't choose him again in this life.

The day before we are supposed to go abroad to get our marriage registered, George Anderson slips a five-carat diamond ring onto my ring finger. "Geri, once you wear this, you'll be Mrs. Anderson for the rest of your life." Before I even have time to feel moved, his tone suddenly shifts. "But I've already canceled tomorrow's flight and asked for a refund. Let's put off the registration for now." He slowly turns the rosary beads on his wrist, speaking as if it's the most natural thing in the world. "Mia's depression has relapsed. She's threatening to jump off a building. The only thing that can calm her down is getting a marriage certificate with her. "I have to go register my marriage with her right now. If she finds out I married you abroad, she'll lose her mind." I freeze and stare at him in disbelief. However, he ruffles my hair with eyes full of indulgence and helplessness. "Be good. It's just a piece of paper. Once her condition is stable, we'll have our wedding. If you really want to go to Frosh Isle, just join a tour group yourself." I watch as his figure retreat in a hurry and touch my lower abdomen. Then, I tear the prenatal checkup report for the twins in my bag into pieces. Next, I make the call for my final confirmation of starting the overseas study program. I no longer intend to see the aurora in Frost Isle with George.

To Willa Fowler, I'm not her husband, but rather, a non-performing asset that awaits her handling. When I fall sick and ask her for help, she grows impatient with me. "This is a low-tier problem that you should be dealing with on your own. There's no need to report to me about it." When I burst into tears from an emotional breakdown, she berates me, "If you lose control of your emotions, you'll just show everyone else the vulnerability in our alliance. Next time, I'll have the PR team teach you how to manage your emotions." Even when I call her for help after getting into a car crash, she doesn't hesitate to hang up on me. "Everything concerning you isn't important enough for me to suspend the hundred-billion-dollar transaction I'm performing right now." I spend seven days in the ICU getting my life saved afterward. On the first day of getting home, I witness Willa bending down to gently coax another young man into taking his medication. She opens her mouth in an attempt to explain the situation to me. But I just chuckle bitterly before handing over the paperwork I've already prepared in advance to her. This time, I sound exactly like her. "Ms. Fowler, regarding our marriage project, after a comprehension evaluation, the return on the investment is deemed too low. Therefore, I'd like to officially propose a termination on this project. "This is the divorce agreement. Please leave your signature here."

When I was 18 years old, I stepped between Eric Ludlow and a silver arrow loosed by another contender so I could help him win the Alpha Trials. The silver sank deep into my wolf. Ever since then, I've lived as a broken werewolf without a mind-link and unable to conceive. Drowning in guilt, Eric decided to mark me. He pulled me close and vowed, "I'll love you for the rest of my life, Evelyn. I'll never see you as less." I really did believe him back then. At 25, he wins the pack war again and emerges as the strongest Alpha. But he turns our mate bond into a joke. At the celebration dinner, during a thoughtless game of Truth or Dare with his secretary, Mia Sadler, he speaks across the mind-link to everyone. "Evelyn, you're painfully dull. You're not the least bit appealing, your scent is thin, and you can't even bear a pup. You're just dead weight. I wish you'd never been saved back then. I wish you'd died." I clutch the medical report that says my wolf is about to be gone for good, staying silent. He assumes I can't hear anything since I don't have a mind-link. I beg the pack healer for a brutal, life-draining potion, just to know what a mate bond with him feels like. It's fine. I'll be dead soon, just the way Eric wants.

*My mate turns out to be the mafia king?!* “Stop flirting with my staff.” My head snaps toward the guy I’ve run into twice today. I thought he was just an average school playboy. “Your staff?” I ask stupidly. He smiles widely. “That’s right, sweetheart. This is my club.” * “W-what are you doing?” I whisper, but the look in his eyes says it all. “Do you feel that?” He asks. It takes a second, but then I feel tiny sparks racing along my skin as his hand slips under my jacket and over my skin. I gasp, and then his lips are on mine. *** A few years ago, a series of scientific research buildings were attacked. The chemicals from those research facilities had seeped into our water supply and slowly manipulated our DNA. Last year was the first report of someone showing a hint of supernatural abilities. Then another and another until suddenly, there were people with abilities popping up all over the place. People with abilities were either feared or envied. I have tried hiding my ability for as long as I can. My ability would have me locked up and used until there was nothing left of me. The ability to heal is a gift everyone would want to take advantage of, so I never use it…ever. Until... I meet him. Julian. My schoolmate. The boss of The Hell Club. The Mafia King. My...mate. What we didn't know at the time was that these so-called DNA alterations were all werewolf genes growing inside the human body. And he, Julian... is my mate.

My childhood sweetheart, Samuel Burton, once promises that he will marry me the moment we graduate from college. But on our wedding day, he shows up late. When we finally find him, he's tangled in bed with my stepsister, Vivian Holcomb, in a hotel room. In front of everyone, Ethan Fuller, the heir to the wealthiest family, steps forward and boldly declares that I am the one he has secretly loved for years. Five years into our marriage, he remembers every little thing I say, and I truly believe I am the person he cares about most. Until one day, when I'm doing housework and accidentally find a confidential folder hidden deep in his desk drawer. The very first page is Vivian's resume. On it is his own handwriting. He has written, "Priority. Above everything else." Behind it is a hospital operations report I have never seen before. The date matches the night of my car accident. I was rushed to a hospital owned by Fuller Group, yet no surgeon ever came. By the time I woke up, the baby I'm carrying was gone because I had lost too much blood. I cried in Ethan's arms until my voice broke, but I never told him the full truth. I didn't want him to worry even more. But now I finally know. Vivian was also injured that night, and the order Ethan sent to the hospital was— "Pull every specialist available. Treat Vivian first." My tears soak into the page, blurring the ink. "If I'm not your top priority, I'll disappear from your life then."

My father was a senior HR executive. He used KPIs to define my life. "Rank top ten in your grade, and I'll give you a B, with a bonus of 250 dollars. "Place in a state-level competition, and you'll get an A, with a bonus of 500. "If your SAT score hits Ivy-level, I'll give you an S+ and a 5,000-dollar year-end bonus." I studied as if my life depended on it, and in the end, I got the acceptance letter. My father slapped a contract down in front of me instead. "Congratulations on onboarding into the next phase. Starting today, your allowance will be structured as base salary plus performance plus attendance bonus. "Base pay is 250 dollars a month, enough to keep you from starving. "To prepare you for a high-pressure work environment, I’ll conduct random inspections. Fail, and your pay gets docked." When I ran a 104°F fever, he cut my attendance bonus, saying my physical resilience didn't meet standards. When I forgot to submit a weekly report because I was buried in schoolwork, he froze all my money. To stay alive, I went behind his back and sold blood at the hospital. At the end of the semester, I held my transcript and scholarship certificate, thinking I had finally earned the highest rating. But my father looked at me without a trace of warmth. "Your S+ bonus has been reallocated. The company decided to invest it in your brother, Harry. He has more potential." I looked at the 100-dollar "consolation prize" he handed me and laughed. So in his company, I didn't even qualify as an "outstanding employee."

After 99 bloodline fusion rituals, I finally conceived Alpha Garrick Whitefang's pup. As a mixed-blood Omega without a wolf, I understood the cost of that miracle better than anyone. The rituals burned away my lifespan. I brought this child with my blood. When I returned with the pregnancy report, ready to share the news, Garrick was waiting for me. A 4-year-old girl stood at his side, her small hand clasped in his. "Rowena, this is my surprise for you. Our pup," he said gently. Then he added, as if it meant nothing, "You will not have to endure bloodline fusion anymore. Her mother, Lyralei North, is pregnant with a male pup. Once she gives birth, I will bring him back for you to raise." His mother smiled with open relief. "No labor, no pain, and you gain two pups for free. How wonderful. The Snowclaw Pack finally has heirs." Unstoppable tears spilled down my face. For seven years as Garrick's Luna, bloodline rejection had made natural conception impossible. For five of those years, I had begged the pack elders to perform bloodline fusion rituals on me. I traded away my lifespan 99 times in total for the chance to carry his child. Only then did I understand. Garrick never wanted my pup. As long as heirs existed, it did not matter who gave birth to them. I returned to my room without a word and made one call. "Steven, does your research project still need people? I want to rejoin the team," I said quietly. "And I am leaving the Snowclaw Pack."