Even After Death Olivia Fordham

After the great war between humans, vampires, werewolves, and elves, an agreement was made that hybrid offspring would rule the world. Every century, alliances through marriage between humans and those three clans would decide the next ruler. Whoever bore the first hybrid child would claim power for their line. In my previous life, I chose to marry Jax, the eldest son of the werewolf pack, known for his fierce loyalty. I gave birth to our hybrid son, a white-furred pup we named Zeal. Our child became the next world ruler, and Jax gained immense power. My sister had lusted after the elves' beauty and married into their clan. But the elf prince slept with every female in the forest. In the end, my sister caught a disease that left her barren. Jealous and bitter, she set a fire that burned me and my young pup alive. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of the racial alliances. My sister had already slept with Jax first. I knew she had been reborn too. But she didn't know that Jax was brutally savage with his mates, having torn countless she-wolves apart in his bed during his ruts.

On the day of my divorce, my ex-mother-in-law updates her social media with a photo. It's my husband's mistress' ultrasound—she's pregnant. Their friends and family congratulate her. Meanwhile, I share a premarital medical report. It belongs to her son, Owen Wade. It also clearly indicates he has congenital necrospermia. There's no way I'll want a man who can't have kids!

I was his one weakness. Don Alex, the king of New York. And I was his queen. But days before our child was due, I was thrown into the Dockside Deathmatch—a cruel game broadcast for the underground world’s entertainment. The bullets flew, hidden traps lay in wait, and my every terrified, pathetic attempt to survive was broadcast live on giant screens. Then, I heard his second-in-command on the loudspeaker. "Boss, your wife's about to pop. You sure you wanna be here?" I froze. Alex was here? A moment later, a woman’s sugary voice dripped through the speakers. "Forget that bitch. Alex told me the only thing that mattered today was being here with me. Right, honey?" It was Scarlett. The Chicago Outfit's princess. Alex's childhood sweetheart from Chicago, a woman he had always pampered and shown a distinct bias towards. He had turned down her advances for years, but he never refused her whims. Today, she was in a bad mood and insisted on watching the deathmatch, so he was here to keep her company. I screamed for Alex, begged him for help, but he was convinced I was an assassin in disguise. Because Scarlett laughed and said the game needed to be more exciting. So he pressed the button. Vicious patrol dogs hunted me. My water broke, mixing with blood on the ground. I was in agony. The game hit its climax as more dogs and gunmen closed in from all sides. Everyone was betting on who would be the next to die. Alex smiled, his voice a low, careless drawl, "I’ll bet on that filthy pregnant woman to die." He didn't know the truth until I bled out on an operating table, our child dead with me. They say the ruthless Godfather shattered. Broke completely.

My birthday present this year is a written contract titled 'Behavioral Reform Contract'. My fiance, who was the mafia head Matteo Giovanni, and my parents have already signed their names at the bottom. Together, they had me sent to the Behavioral Correction Center. … The windows are always shut, and the sunlight is filtered through the metal window bars. They drug, reprimand, and ostracize me to make me shove my feelings of aggrievement down. Even while I am being humiliated and punished, they teach me to force a smile and maintain a steady breath. It was all done in the name of "treating" me. A year passes, and I go from being a so-called "troublemaker" to their ideal version of me—quiet, elegant, and utterly perfect. Matteo beams at me and says, "You've finally become my perfect wife. We can finally marry." I match his smile, a gesture that they think means obedience from my part. However, it is not true. It is just me bidding my farewell before I leave for good. There's something I don't understand, however. They constantly found me lacking, so now that I am gone from their lives, why are they falling apart?

My dad collapsed from a sudden heart attack and died. The shock hit my mom like a freight train, and she blacked out cold. By the time I raced home from college, his body had already been reduced to ashes in the crematorium. Grief barely had a chance to sink in before the debt collectors pounded on our door. That was when the ugly truth emerged. My dad had secretly racked up billions in loans, saddling my mom and me. A year later, the relentless harassment from those goons drove my mom to despair. She ended her life, and I was forced to drop out of school, scavenging dumpsters just to scrape by. But fate had a cruel twist in store. I spotted my "dead" dad, alive and thriving, hosting an extravagant birthday bash for his secret son. I stormed in, desperate for answers, only to be hurled out by security. My head cracked against the pavement, and everything went black. When my eyes fluttered open again, I was inexplicably back on that fateful day of my dad's heart attack.

“Marry me, Katleah. Be my wife.” Words that suddenly changed the course of her world. She was being proposed to by Marco De la Vega, the most handsome man who owned numerous hotels and airlines across the Philippines. But the marriage he offered came with a contract that they were forbidden to love each other. It was hard for her to accept such an offer. What if she failed? What if she ended up falling for him? Yet, despite her doubts, she still accepted. For three years, their life as husband and wife was never easy. In secret, she endured the humiliation from his family because she had already learned to love him. But how long could she bear it? What if, in their marriage, she was the only one in love? Would she insist on sacrificing what was left of her dignity, just for the sake of her love? She thought he had also come to love her after the many joyful nights they shared. But she was wrong because Marco wanted to end their marriage. And though her heart was breaking into pieces, she had to accept that they were never meant to be. After signing the divorce papers, she flew to America with her real family. Seven years later, aboard a private plane, she returned as a top surgeon, a billionaire’s heiress, and a loving mother to two beautiful six-year-old twins. Be ready for her final retribution...

His rule was simple: I was his substitute and would be his contract wife for two years with no strings attached. He would give me the respect and everything I want except his heart, for it belonged to his fiancée abroad. But I want more; I want his heart. So I confessed my love to him. He divorced me for breaking the rules. Now a turn of events after our divorce lands me in his bed. I thought I was safe since he didn't see me the next day before I left. But a month later… I learned I carried a part of him inside me. Now I’m torn... Do I keep the secret? Or face the man who swore he could never love me… again?

“Olivia, are you sure you want to give up everything in the Red River Pack and come back home?” “Yes, I am sure.” My voice was shaky but I was determined. I wipe the tears that should not fall and gently touch the little life in my belly. I will do everything I can to save my baby. “I will pick you up in thirty days, after I come back from the border. You’re the Alpha Princess of the whole country: nobody can hurt you without my permission. “Thank you, brother.” I try to keep my voice steady. When the thirty-day countdown reaches zero, I will forever leave my mate and return home.

Heartbroken by humiliation and betrayal, Elea is desperate to find a man and make him her contract boyfriend. The hot and passionate relationship unknowingly brings out an unusual feeling in their hearts. They fell in love with each other. Realizing the relationship was wrong, Elea decided to separate. Unfortunately, Elea did not know that the man who became her contract boyfriend was a billionaire from a very influential family. The incident one year ago made Greg Dale Hubert, willing to fake an identity from a billionaire to become a model in order to pursue his love. The opportunity that comes makes Greg a possessive, arrogant, and loving boyfriend. The ship set sail, complete with a sea full of waves.

My son is dead. He dies in a cramped toilet cubicle after having his skull smashed in. My husband, the school principal, arrives on the scene. The first thing he does is carry his true love's son, the one who killed my son, into an ambulance. They hurriedly leave. Before his death, my son tells me, "Don't cry, Mom. I'm not sad that Dad doesn't believe me. It's enough that you do…" I call Joshua Tucker during my son's funeral. He roars angrily, "Kenny had to get two stitches on his arm because of your son! If you keep pestering me like this, I'll beat him up when I get home!" My son? I look at the gaping hole in my son's head, the one that won't ever bleed anymore. I shut my eyes. Yes, he's my son. My son is dead, Joshua. From now on, there's nothing between us.