Dungeon Mistress

My best friend and my husband, Lorenzo Bartoli, fought every time they met. Lorenzo was the Don of the family, while my best friend was his Consigliere. She always fiercely opposed his most ruthless, high-risk decisions. Tempers explode every single time. But there was one rule that they both agreed on without any hesitation. No one was allowed to touch me. Because of them, no one in the city dared to cross me. Until the fifth month of my pregnancy, when I went down to the basement vault to organize Lorenzo's guns for him. I opened the safe to see stacks of letters, hundreds of them, all unsent. I picked one up. The moment I opened the letter, cold dread overwhelmed me. The receiver of the letter wasn't me. [My dearest Sofia…] I quickly scanned downward to the final lines of the letter. [If I don't make it back alive, everything in the Swissie accounts goes to you. As for Vittoria, she's a good woman, but I have never loved her.] With trembling hands, I tore open the rest of the letters like a hysterical woman. Three hundred of them in total. Every single one was addressed to Sofia Finzi. Sofia was not a stranger. She was my best friend.

I've been dating my enemy, Sean Thompson, for four years. At first, I intended to lurk by his side and find an opportunity to get my revenge. But little do I know that a medical report with my cancer diagnosis is capable of shattering my life's plans in an instant. Since then, I've quit my job and broken up with Sean. Now that I no longer give a damn about everything, I lash out at everyone who dares approach me. Everyone is weirded out by my behavior. They all wonder what made my personality go through such a huge change to the point that I'm easily triggered by the slightest inconvenience. My family is already ruined to begin with. My parents are dead, my family has gone bankrupt, and now I'm on the verge of death. My only wish is that I can screw Sean over so that my older brother, Adrian Price, can get released from prison as soon as possible. But I can't do anything about my wish at all. At that moment, my childhood friend stands by my side, consequences be damned. He takes good care of me and cares for me as he always does. When Sean finds out that I have terminal cancer, he actually agrees to help fulfill my wish. Half a year later, Adrian is released from prison. Sean also returns the company to my family. My wish is fulfilled. Everyone wants me to keep fighting for my life and continue receiving treatment for my cancer. I know that I need to keep going for their sake, even if it means extending my life for a day or even a month longer.

Nicholas Hunt loves testing me a lot. When I just graduated from university, he tried to make me take on a five-million-dollar house mortgage. After I turned him down, Nicholas was quick to buy Yvonne Myers, the campus belle, a villa that was worth eight million dollars. It was even paid in full. As he held the property deed, he told me, "The truth is, I'm super rich. I've been pretending to be poor just so I can test your integrity. "It's a shame that you never passed my test. I'm very disappointed in you, Elizabeth. Let's break up." I just smiled at him casually. Then, I walked away without hesitation. What a coincidence. I'm the daughter of the richest man in the country. I, too, had been pretending to be poor. Four years later, we bump into each other at the Fortune List Summit. At that time, Nicholas has just squeezed into the top 50 rank. He walks into the venue with Yvonne clinging to his arm. It's then he notices me. I'm wearing plain-looking clothes without any jewelry adorning me, and I happen to be holding a child. Thinking that I'm a nanny, Nicholas begins mocking me. "Wow, you really went all out just to steal one more glance at me, huh? I can't believe you're able to follow me all the way here. "You should learn to accept reality, though. I'm on the Fortune List, while you're working as someone else's nanny. The gap between us is far too wide, so you should stop dreaming already!" I just ignore Nicholas in favor of resenting my dad for making me attend this stupid event. After all, I've just managed to block out one full day just to spend time with my son, and yet I have to waste my precious time on this dumb event.

The hospital suddenly called to inform me that the kidney I had been scheduled to receive had been transferred—by my husband—to his first love. I confronted him. He replied casually, "It's just one kidney. Are you really in such a hurry? Daphne needs it more, so let her have it first. You're not going to die anytime soon anyway!" I stood there holding the medical report proving he had uremia, and in that moment, my three-year marriage felt like a joke. Fine. He was right. I wasn't the one who was sick—so what was I rushing for?

When I'm seven months pregnant, my mate, Kayden Booker, brings me to a celebratory party hosted in the Darkwind pack. Vera Walker, a Beta warrior, purposefully splashes red wine onto my gown. She also accuses me of smelling like a Rogue. I shove her away, only for her to collapse to the floor. Kayden immediately picks Vera up before slapping me in the face. "You're just a plaything to warm my bed, and yet you have the gall to touch what's mine?" That night, the video of me doing a lap dance while heavily pregnant is projected to the pack's public monitor, all thanks to Vera. The comment section is filled with the wolves' lewd chuckles and mocking comments. As I hide outside the door, I listen to Kayden and his subordinates' conversation. "She's just a human being who's meant to carry my pup. I'm going to abandon her when I get sick of her." "Only the Moon Goddess knows if that pup inside her womb is a bastard pup or what." "Vera is right. Women like her should be groomed." The wolves laugh among themselves. "Alpha Kayden, that woman sure is hot! Will you give her to us and let us have a taste?" Kayden replies icily, "Once she gives birth to that wretched pup, you can do whatever you want to her." Laughter fills the conference hall once again. I pull out the silver dagger that I've been tucking under my pillow. Then, I scratch out the countdown timer on my calendar.

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.

Chase Grimm's aide-de-camp sent me a screenshot of an Instagram Live status. Guess who it came from. His new secretary. She was showing off a meticulously prepared lunch from a lunchbox. My handiwork, no less. I made it for him. The caption read: [He's a dark, cold CEO… and a shiny knight who saved a hungry princess with a gastric problem from eating mac 'n' cheese again!] Chase almost never posted on Instagram. Yet there he was, sharing a photo of a cup of ridiculously spicy mac 'n' cheese, captioned: [I have missed this.] The nerve of this prick. Then my mother-in-law sent an entirely unsolicited text: [What the heck were you doing?! You're supposed to make him a proper lunch! He can't stand spicy food!] After all that, I decided to call a supermarket. "Hi! I'd like to order 100 cups of instant super-spicy mac 'n' cheese and have them delivered to Grimm Co. Please and thank you." "Ain't I generous?"

Three years after our breakup, I ran into my ex-girlfriend, and she had her new boyfriend by her side. "Hey, isn't that Henry the expert?" Diego Stanley taunted with a smirk. "Three years post-breakup, and you're slumming it here playing with clay?" I furrowed my brow, ignored them, and carefully moved the Victorian-era porcelain musician figurine onto its preset base in the display case. When I wasn't biting, he reached out to grab the figurine from my arms. "What's this junk you're treating like gold? Let me take a look." Cynthia Wyatt frowned, her voice laced with that familiar arrogance. "Henry, I've given you three years to shape up, and you're still the same loser? Come on, hand over that clay doll to Diego. Don't kill the vibe. If you play nice, I might even reconsider our old engagement." As Diego's hand neared the figurine, I dodged quickly and barked, "Hands off! It's a historical artifact!" Diego got pissed off and shoved me hard. "Some flea market find, and you're acting all high and mighty?" In the ensuing scuffle, I lost my balance, and the figurine slipped from my grasp, crashing to the floor. That sealed their fate. This entitled pair was about to go bankrupt trying to fix it.

While I try on various wedding rings, my fiance, Don Demetrio Farese, who has tagged along, suddenly snatches the ring from my fingertip. "You already lost a finger, Lucia. The ring will look ugly on you. Carlotta, on the other hand, looks beautiful with a ring on her finger." Then, Demetrio fishes out a photo featuring him sinking down on one knee while sliding a ring onto Carlotta Rini's finger. My chest tightens. "What are you trying to say?" "Let Carlotta wear the wedding ring. You've already lost a finger anyway—you don’t need it." Pain slowly spreads from my chest to the rest of my body. For a moment, I almost lose my balance. The truth is, Demetrio's mortal enemy is the one who severed my finger by shooting at it. Back then, I only got shot because I had shielded Demetrio from the bullet.

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.