Dungeon Mistress

Adrian Quirrel, the heir to the Quirrel family, had been in poor health since childhood. Guided by the old superstition that marriage could restore his health, his family had taken in four young women, with only one to be chosen as his bride. On the selection day, they invited a renowned astrologer to read our birth charts. As soon as he said I carried a healing energy and could bear healthy heirs, the Quirrels decided on the spot that I would be Adrian's bride. Three months later, his health miraculously improved, and I soon found myself pregnant with twins—a boy and a girl. The family elders were ecstatic and even promised that my son would become the Quirrels' future heir. But on the night of the christening, Adrian locked me and the babies in the basement. I broke down and demanded an explanation. He sneered and replied, "If it weren't for your so-called 'healing energy,' Emily would've been my wife. "She wouldn't have jumped to her death at such a young age if she hadn't been pushed to that point. Tonight, I want you and your children to accompany her in death." He grabbed a nearby iron rod and savagely brought it down onto our babies. I threw myself over the babies, but Adrian kicked me aside. Blood splattered across the walls and floor, and my babies' breathing gradually weakened until it stopped. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back on the day Adrian chose his bride.

Eight years of loyalty—wiped out by three days of her batting her lashes. At the bonfire, I swore the Alpha would finally mark me. Instead, I watched him fasten a sparkly little pendant around her neck. When the fire broke out, he ditched me—flames snapping at my heels. Said I could "handle myself," then played hero carrying her out. She showed up at my herb shop all smug, called me a "mutt no one wants." Then he showed up—Alpha on his knees outside my door, begging for another shot. I nodded toward my shelves. "These heal every wolf in Stormborne... except the Alpha who couldn't see what was right in front of him."

Mom dies of rage when she discovers that the bride at my wedding has become Nelly Johnson, Harvey Fisher's business partner. My wedding turns into Mom's funeral the moment she breathes her last breath. Despite that, Harvey insists that the ceremony continue as planned. He even orders me to put the wedding ring on Nelly's finger. "Hurry up and put it on! I'll explain everything to you tonight!" he snarls. I ignore him and leave the hotel with Mom's body in my arms. The wedding ends with a banging success at 8:00 pm. Nelly updated her social media with a post that's liked by tens of thousands of people. "I've finally married the light of my life! I'd like to thank a certain homewrecker for leaving after remembering her place." Harvey updates his social media with a similar post. "Those who are unworthy don't deserve to be loved." I like both their posts in the ice-cold morgue. I comment, "I wish you two a lifetime of happiness." Then, I head home with Mom's ashes. When I enter the house, I see Harvey holding Nelly tightly while making out with her.

After a vicious family power struggle, I fled to a small border town in the south. I took on a new identity and found work in a flower shop. Everyone believed I was dead. Then one day, someone from the family came to the shop to order flowers for the birthday party for Roman Jackson, the head of the Jackson family. The person who arrived was my former Underboss. She stared at me in shock and demanded to know why I had not returned to the Jackson family if I was still alive. She told me that Roman had kept watch over my grave for two years and that he had attempted suicide three times in the cemetery, each time stopped by someone else. Roman was my ex-husband. He had an adopted sister, Liliana. Fifteen years ago, her parents were gunned down while covering Roman's father's escape from a rival family. After that, Liliana became Roman's most cherished sister. She tampered with my armored car. The brakes failed, and the vehicle plunged off a cliff. I broke three ribs. Roman mobilized every resource the family had and pulled me back from the brink of death. She bribed my bodyguard and laced my red wine with a neurotoxin. I lay unconscious in the villa for three days and nights. Roman sealed off the entire city, hunted down everyone involved, and made them pay in blood. She tried to kill me, and he saved me. This absurd cycle went on for three years. Until the last time. She detonated a bomb at an arms deal I was overseeing, burning seventy percent of my body. As I was lifted onto the ambulance stretcher, I clutched Roman's suit and, with the last of my strength, begged him. "Kill her, Roman. She sabotaged the deal. Those are the family rules." He crouched down, his fingers brushing my bloodstained face. His voice was calm, almost cruel. "Liliana didn't mean to. Let it go. For the sake of what her parents sacrificed for the family." In that moment, my heart to him died completely.

I create a fake account, add Lucas Bennett's lover, and then help her with advice and strategy. "A little drama keeps the spark alive. If you don't stir things up now and then, how else will he remember to pay attention to you?" So on my birthday, he spends an hour in the bathroom coaxing her to eat. On our fifth anniversary, Lucas sneaks off to a hotel and spends an hour tangled up with her. Lucas spends less time with me, but their relationship grows stronger. On the night of the company banquet, when Lucas is entertaining important clients, I tell her, "Lucas' girlfriend will be there too. If you don't ruin this contract, they'll be tied together forever." That evening, she picks up a glass of red wine and dumps it over my head. Lucas, who's been fawning over my dad, completely lost his composure.

When Alexander Smith stands in front of me and says he's going to marry someone else, that's when I realize he's been reborn too. I remember our 20 years of love in our past life. A plane crash. And then, rebirth. "This is to save Sophia," he says. "In our past life, she was sold to a Vostmark oligarch after her father's political scandal. Not long after, she took her own life due to abuse. I can't let that tragedy happen again, so I need to get engaged to her." As he speaks, he hands me an orange prescription bottle. "If you take this, you'll forget me for a little while. You won't feel the pain. It's just seven days. Once her father's scandal blows over, you'll stop the medication and your memory will return. Then I'll end the engagement and officially propose to you." I stare at the bottle, knowing it's a lie. Not the part about Sophia's suicide. The lie is about the drug. He thinks it only causes temporary memory loss. But I know better. The suppressant causes permanent damage to emotional memory. The seven-day countdown isn't the time it takes for my memories to return. It's the time it takes for my love for him to die.

My husband and his employees went on a camping trip, and his assistant posted on social media. [We drew lots for the tents, and guess who ended up with the handsome CEO!] The post showed a selfie she took. Behind her, my husband was taking his shirt off. Someone left a comment. [A man and a woman alone together? Sounds juicy.] The assistant quickly replied with a smirking emoji. [I like a little excitement!] After I liked the post, it was deleted right away. Soon, my husband called me on video. In front of his crying assistant and several employees, he scolded, “Why did you like the post?! It was just a game! Don’t be so close-minded!” As I watched him hold the assistant in arms and comforted her, I quietly hung up. After ten years of loving Caelan Sullivan, I decided then and there to let go.

I lapse into unconsciousness for a few days after a high fever. When I wake up, I see my boyfriend and his best friend standing by my bed. I want to enliven the atmosphere, so I joke, "Who are you?" Eric Cobb, my boyfriend, is taken aback. I almost laugh at the look on his face. Then, he points at his friend, Jonah Mullen. "Don't you remember? Your boyfriend's been panicking over you. As his best friend, I have to be here with him." This time, I'm the one who's taken aback. Unexpectedly, Jonah steps forward and says, "That's right. I'm your boyfriend, Jonah Mullen."

During a classmates' reunion party, the villa unexpectedly collapses, trapping both Priscilla Hobbs, my husband's true love, and me beneath the fallen ceiling. My husband is a member of the rescue team. To keep Priscilla alive, he chooses to lift the ceiling from her side. He says, "Pris is an actress. She can't be crippled." The ceiling crushes my legs as it's lifted from the other end. My husband seems to have forgotten that I have a congenital blood clotting disorder. Without my legs, I'll die…

When the earthquake hit, I found myself buried under the rubble, barely clinging to life. My wife, Meghan Hudson, charges into the collapsing office building without hesitation. However, the person she rescues is Gerald Parker, the new technical specialist at my company. Even as she hurries away with the rescue team, she doesn't spare me a single glance. Severely crushed and bleeding heavily, I'm rushed to the hospital for emergency surgery. Yet, Meghan pours all her care and attention into Gerald, who barely has a scratch on him. In the end, I'm completely disheartened and pull out the divorce papers. Meghan goes berserk and tears them to shreds, thinking I'll give in like I always did. What she doesn't know is that this time, I'm truly exhausted.