Fake Scenarios

On my birthday, I proposed a family trip to the northern grasslands. My younger sister, Clara Harrington, who was studying in the southern territory, decided to drive through the forest to meet up with us. But unexpectedly, she was attacked by Rogue wolves in the woods, and her body was never found. My parents, Oscar Harrington and Margaret Vale, placed all the blame on me for her death and cast me out of the family. Overwhelmed with guilt and sorrow, I left the pack to atone for my sins. I took on odd jobs to earn money to send home, all while searching for any trace of Clara. Three years later, I found myself in the southern territory and began working as a delivery runner for a forest cafe. One day, while delivering an order to Werewolf Academy, I saw my parents and Clara standing at the school gate. She said, "Dad, Mom, Adeline has been wandering for three years. Shouldn't we let her come home?" But my mother replied calmly, "She is too selfish. It's only right that she suffers a little. We can bring her back once she realizes her mistakes." My father nodded in agreement. "Let her wander for another year. We'll bring her home next year." I clutched my stomach, my face pale as I forced out a bitter laugh. Three years of exhaustion had left me gravely ill. My wolf was gone, and I only had three days left to live. I could't wait until next year for my father to come and take me home.

Elena Ghen's life is suddenly overturned when Alpha Williams declares war against her pack and wins. Elena is forcefully taken away from her pack and joins The blue moon pack where Alpha Williams plans to make her his Luna. What happens when Elena meets her mate at the mating dinner organized for her and Alpha Williams? What happens when she finds out that her mate is non other than the Alpha in line, Jake, Alpha William's very own son. Elena and Jack have the same goal but can they put down their differences and make it work. The moon goddess doesn't make mistakes , or does she? ~~~~~~~ I smirked on seeing his red blazing eyes stare me down, his face hardened, his fake demeanor falling apart. I could feel his hard on pressed against my thighs. His hands gripping my hair tightly, holding my chin up. "Shut it." He snarled "Imagine me, pressed against the sheets with him, thighs apart. His hands gripping my thighs so hard they'd leave a bruise. My neck covered in love bites as I -" "Shut the fuck up before I show you exactly how mean I could be. I don't mind ruining in the sanctuary of this place. I will fuck you real, good. Your head and thoughts will be filled with my name, because you're mine, just mine." "Why don't you make me. Do it." I teased, challenging him. Watching his smirk deepened. He yanked my hair tighter, raising his eyebrows "Get on your knees and make that mouth useful."

On her first day at work, a new colleague uploaded a 500-million-dollar property purchase agreement to the company group chat. The message was accompanied by the caption: “Thanks for the gift for my first day at work, Dad!” She quickly deleted it, following up with, “Sorry, wrong chat!” I frowned, recognizing the contract immediately. It was the same property my father gifted me for my birthday a month ago. Some sharp-eyed colleagues noticed the contract number and chimed in. “I have a relative in real estate. I remember this property. Our chairman bought it recently!” “So, the heiress has joined us to experience life. Forgive your humble servant for not recognizing you!” The chat was soon filled with flattering remarks. Even my stingy and miserly husband joined in. I felt a coldness in my heart and couldn’t help but respond in the group chat, “I recall the president always opposing ostentatious displays of wealth and advocating humility. This heiress seems to veer away from his usual philosophy.” Instead of support, I faced attacks from my husband and others. “Look at you being so poor and petty. How could you ever compare to Grace? Why did I ever marry someone so shortsighted?” “As if you know the president that well! I think you’re just jealous that Grace was born with a silver spoon!” I sneered coldly and, without hesitation, dialed the president’s number right in front of everyone. “Dad, I heard we’re not that close, hmm?”

My brother, Theo Sorento, died in a plane crash on his way back home just to celebrate my birthday. They never found his body—only wreckage. Ever since, my parents forced me to kneel in front of his grave every year on my birthday, demanding that I repent for surviving when he didn’t. Then came my eighteenth birthday. I realized someone was following me. Panicked, I sent a few messages asking for help. Just then, Mom called, not to check on me but to lash out. “I know exactly what you're doing. You’re just making up excuses so you don’t have to kneel in front of your brother’s grave! You’re a liar. Why wasn’t it you who died instead of him? You’re a walking curse!” Before my phone was smashed under a boot, the last thing I heard was the cold click of her hanging up. Then, I was cut up into pieces, and what was left of me was tossed across the city. My father, the lead forensic pathologist on my case, didn’t even recognize me. Later, Theo returned alive with his wife, whom he had eloped with eight years ago. When they found out the pile of rotting flesh was me, they all went insane.

I’m Isabella Russo, the mafia princess everyone loves to hate. Adrian Moretti—ice-cold underboss in a tailored suit—was sent to “discipline” me. I torched his villa, wrecked his meetings, even tried to make him lose control. At night, he did. Against glass, leather, marble—he taught me surrender and I hated how much I craved it. Then I learned the truth: Adrian was only a mask. His real name is Leon Moretti—heir to the empire and the fiancé promised to me since birth. It should have been a fairytale. Except my parents crowned a miracle sister who wasn’t a miracle at all. Elena slipped into my room, my heirloom, my future—and into his arms. When I was framed, caged in a walk-in freezer, whipped for a lie, he chose her. So I sold the engagement for $200M, left a single recording as proof, and vanished. By the time Leon becomes Don, he finally listens—to the tape that proves Elena’s an impostor… and to the echo of my footsteps leaving him for good. Now the most dangerous man in New York is done being careful. He’s hunting the woman he broke.

I'm undressed and bound to a testing table when my family comes to pick me up. A thick, sharp needle pierces into my neck. A drug is administered into my blood, and the pain almost makes me lose consciousness. Behind me, I can feel a man's cold hands stroking my skin amorously. Before me, several people are staring at me. They point at me and treat me like an educational instrument. I tremble in fear and curl up on the testing table in pain. Three years ago, my brother sent me to Mykorra's war zone to stand up for Yvette Sanders. Those were the three most insulting and torturous years of my life. They burned away my hope for kinship but not my desire for survival. As the hands roam lower on my body, I bite my lip so hard that I almost draw blood. As the hands start to go overboard, someone knocks on the door. "Wendy Sanders, your brother is here for you."

The ninety-ninth time my Alpha mate blocked our mind-link, I was in the final stages of Wolf Spirit Decay. I dragged my broken body into the Council Hall. The cold marble steps grated against the soles of my feet, and with every step, a tearing pain ripped through my chest. "I am here to petition to leave the pack." The council official studied my pale, thin form with a pitying gaze and asked softly, "Are you certain, Miss? You would be giving up the pack's protection." Since childhood, my wolf has been unstable, making me frail. Ever since my father brought home my adopted sister, Lydia, when I was ten, my parents have treated me like a disgrace to the family. Despite being his marked mate for years, Caleb never promised me a Luna ceremony. He rarely even took me to pack gatherings. As a result, hardly anyone in the pack knew who I was. "It doesn't matter," I said, my voice calm despite the effort. "I will be dead in three days."

I slaved away for my husband and son. But what did I get in return? Cold shoulders, cutting words, and distance. Then one day, my husband suggested a “fake divorce” so my stepsister could adopt a child. Fine. Fake divorce it is. Except… if it’s just fake, why are the two of them heating up the sheets behind my back? Then, Fake divorce just turned real. My ex-husband thought I’d beg to come back. My stepsister thought I’d envy her for stealing my husband and son. They both thought I’d shatter. Wrong. I’ve got my career, my revenge, and oh—did I mention? I’m dating a drop-dead gorgeous man who actually knows my worth. And suddenly, life tasted sweeter than I ever imagined.

Michelle, a believer in fabled tales, enters into a fake relationship with enigmatic billionaire Shawn Mendes. What starts as a charade soon becomes a genuine romance as Shawn treats her like a princess. But their world takes an unexpected turn when Michelle becomes pregnant with Shawn's werewolf child. As the truth unfolds, she realizes their connection runs deeper. However, Shawn's fear of fatherhood and denial of their bond create a haunting nightmare for Michelle. Old flames, misunderstandings, and doubts complicate their fragile relationship. Can their love endure? Will Shawn embrace his destiny as a father? Time will test their moonlit bonds.

That year, during the Sicilian arms trafficking conflict, my lover of three years, Silvio, deliberately betrayed my transport routes at a critical moment in a deal with the rival "DiMarco" family, causing me to lose all my territory. He immediately defected to the DiMarco family's leader Marina, becoming her lover. As he left, he didn't even bother to disguise his betrayal, coldly tossing out, "What we had was just business, nothing personal." While I was burdened with my family's blood debts and pushed to the edge of a cliff, Lorenzo, who had secretly harbored feelings for me since childhood, found me and offered his family's entire fortune. "Isabella, don't be afraid. In my eyes, you'll always be Sicily's most formidable Queen of the Arms Trade," he said. He took the Colt pistol from my hand, and his voice was gentle yet resolute. Five years later, my power resurged. I was about to completely crush Marina's smuggling network and reclaim everything I had lost. My caporegimes, the captains of my organization, were ready and waiting for my command. But on the night before the operation, my weapons warehouse suddenly exploded, turning priceless arms into worthless scrap metal. I barely escaped through the thick smoke, my body covered in burns. In a secluded monastery, I overheard Lorenzo and Silvio whispering outside my door. "You really had the guts to blow up the arsenal. Weren't you afraid of blasting her to pieces too?" Silvio's voice carried a mocking tone. "If she died, just died. I've always loved Marina. If it weren't for that unlucky family marriage lottery five years ago, I wouldn't have had to endure this ugly bitch for all this time." Lorenzo's voice was ice-cold and unfamiliar. I closed my eyes, feeling like a dagger had pierced my chest. Explosion. Arranged marriage. Ugly bitch. So those five years of shared hardship were just his unwilling choice after losing a high-stakes gamble. "I married her to keep watch. If it weren't for me paving