Echo Dress

I was the princess of the Blood Moon pack, the little sister my Alpha brothers cherished. But that all changed when they brought home Lily, the human girl they adopted. They threw me in the dungeons for three days to “reflect.” My crime? Taking Lily into the forest and “accidentally” letting a rogue wolf attack her. I tried to explain, to tell them I was innocent. But my three brothers just looked at me with disgust and disappointment. “Aren't you just jealous that Lily’s getting our attention? Freya, when did you become so vicious?” Then, without a second thought, they severed our sibling mind link, cutting off my pleas for mercy. What they didn’t know was that the weakening wolfsbane in my cell had been swapped for lethal wolf's venom. Three days later, my oldest brother, Ethan, asked the butler, “Has Freya learned her lesson?” By then, I was already dead. My body was already starting to rot.

Me desangraba en una esquina tras un ataque de una familia rival. Mi esposo, Dante —el subjefe de la familia Torrino— estaba en su auto, sosteniendo a la hermanita de su mejor amigo. Me lanzó una mirada fría y dijo: —Déjala. No es nadie. Más tarde, cuando otro me salvó, caminé a casa empapada en mi propia sangre. Encontré a Dante meciendo a Serafina, preocupadísimo por ella. Ella solo tenía una rodilla raspada. ¿Y la sangre que cubría mi ropa? Ni siquiera la vio. Solo observé. No dije nada. Luego saqué mi teléfono y llamé a mi madre: —Mamá, necesito volver a casa.

Cinq ans après mon mariage avec Dante Moretti, le Don de la mafia de Paris, tout le monde savait qu'il m'aimait plus que sa propre vie. Il s'était fait tatouer un violon pour moi, juste à côté de son blason familial, un symbole de loyauté qui ne pouvait jamais être effacé. Jusqu'au jour où j'ai reçu la photo envoyée par sa maîtresse. Une serveuse de bar, nue, vautrée dans ses bras, la peau marquée de sombres ecchymoses laissées par un sexe brutal. Elle avait griffonné son prénom juste à côté du tatouage violon. Et mon mari l'avait laissée faire. « Dante dit que seul le fait d'être en moi lui permet encore de se sentir un homme. Tu n'arrives même plus à le faire bander, pas vrai, chère Alessia ? Peut-être qu'il est temps de t'effacer. » Je n'ai pas répondu. J'ai simplement passé un seul appel. « J'ai besoin d'une nouvelle identité et d'un billet d'avion pour partir. »

Three days before our wedding, my fiancé, Raphael Russo, was killed in a gang shootout. They didn't even find a body. As I was drowning in grief, comments suddenly flashed before my eyes: 【Wake up, girl! the coffin's empty! He faked his death! The scumbag ran off to be with that scheming bitch chloe, the one pretending to be sick!】 【While you're crying your eyes out at the funeral, Raphael is fucking Chloe’s brains out in a hotel bed.】 【When he comes back, he'll claim he has amnesia. You won't know a thing and you'll forgive him. You poor thing…】 A month later, news of my marriage to Mafia Don Marcello Falcone spread through New York. Raphael’s right-hand man cornered me, furious. “How could you betray the Boss?” I tightened my grip on Marcello’s arm and smiled. “A girl can’t mourn forever, can she? I’m sure Raphael, in spirit, would be happy for me.”

For the past two months, I’ve been getting photos. Photos of my fated mate, Andrew, fucking his mistress, Crystal—a sultry omega. 【Dear Luna, Andrew left so many marks on me last night. He said I'm the only one who's ever made him feel a real orgasm.】 【Oh, and that famous soothing ability you're so proud of? I have it too. He says I can replace you completely now.】 【Don't worry, I'll take good care of your mate for you.】 In the photos, a smudge of Crystal's lipstick was a glaring stain on Andrew’s mate mark. Looking at those messages, disbelief curdled into despair, and finally, into a cold, hard numbness. Until tonight, when the Moon Goddess finally answered my desperate prayers. I could sacrifice half of my soothing gift for one chance to sever our mate bond on my own. In seven days, I will finally leave Andrew for good.

Tres años después de mi matrimonio arreglado con el heredero de la familia Valachi, el que se escapó regresó. Me dejó por Julia ocho veces. La novena vez, me dejó sangrando al costado de la carretera con una herida de bala para ir corriendo hacia Julia, quien lo había llamado porque se sentía un poco mareada. —Ella me necesita. Lo entiendes, ¿verdad, Leona? Esta vez, no luché por él. Él no sabía de la apuesta que hice con Julia. La novena vez que me abandonara, sería yo quien se marcharía para siempre. Así que, el día de su cumpleaños, dejé un juego de papeles de divorcio firmados en su escritorio y me subí a un avión.

My Alpha was gravely wounded in a battle with a rival pack. But I wasn’t worried. I wasn’t even flustered. I let him go, three thousand kilometers away, to be healed. Because in my past life, Damien got himself injured on purpose, all to give his healer mistress, Isla, a shot at glory. Worried sick about him, I forced our pack’s healers to treat him instead. But Isla lost her one shot at fame. Without it, she couldn't secure her place in any pack and eventually killed herself. Damien's life was saved, but he blamed me for her death. He poisoned me, leaving me to die in agony. When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Right before Damien got hurt.

Everyone in New York knew I was the Godfather’s heart. Gavin Whitestone’s heart. He loved me for ten years. He’d fly into a rage if I so much as got a paper cut. But he’s the one who gave me these three scars. The first time, he pulled every doctor to treat Sofia, the girl who took a bullet for him, and ignored the shrapnel tearing into my side. The second time, he was drugged and fucking Sofia in his bed. When I walked in on them, he shoved me aside, desperately carrying her to the hospital. The third time, he took my father's last gift to me—a revolver—and gave it to a pregnant Sofia, just to make her smile. He told me, “It’s all for the baby. Once the baby is born, we’ll go back to how we were.” But this time, I didn't forgive him. I threw away every gift he ever gave me and vanished without a trace. And that’s when the untouchable Godfather finally broke.

My marriage to Dante, the Moretti heir, was meant to be a union of power, an alliance of empires. But for me, it was also the real deal. Then his adopted sister, Clara, showed up at a party. She was wearing his custom leather jacket, straddling his prized Ducati, and she looked right at me with a smirk. "Dante says," she purred, "that I suit these precious things better than you do." My smile froze. Dante had her on a plane overseas so fast it was like she'd never existed. Five years later, the night before our wedding. I found him staring at the design for our wedding rings. He'd changed the engraving. The "Amor Aeternus"—Eternal Love—was gone. In its place: "Mea culpa, mea maxima culpa." My sin, my greatest sin. I took off my veil right then and there. "The wedding," I said, my voice like ice, "is off."

Aku sekarat di sudut gang setelah diserang keluarga rival. Suamiku, Dante, wakil pimpinan Keluarga Tanto ... berada di dalam mobilnya, malah memeluk adik perempuan sahabatnya. Dia menatapku dengan dingin, lalu berkata, "Biarkan saja dia. Dia bukan siapa-siapa." Setelah orang lain menyelamatkanku, aku berjalan pulang sendiri dengan tubuh berlumuran darah. Aku mendapati Dante sedang menggendong Sera, menenangkannya dengan cemas padahal yang dia alami hanya lutut tergores. Sedangkan darah yang menutupi seluruh pakaianku? Dia bahkan tidak mau melihatnya. Aku hanya berdiri menatap mereka. Tidak mengatakan apa-apa. Kemudian, aku pun mengeluarkan ponselku dan mengirim pesan pada ibuku. [ Ibu, aku mau pulang. ]