Female Midoriya

My son, Scott Gould, suddenly tells me that he has leukemia. Then, he goes on to say that his biggest wish is to see Ivanna Newman in a wedding dress. My husband, Theodore Gould, agrees with Scott. "I'll hold a wedding with Ivanna. Once Scott is done with his treatment, we'll get remarried." I gladly agree to the request and divorce Theodore. Not long after, I learn from Scott's social media that he's attending the wedding of Theodore and his childhood sweetheart, Ivanna. The caption he writes says, "I'm so happy for Dad. I can't help but shed tears for true love." I smile and turn off my phone. Holding the hand of the person next to me, I board a plane to Wismuth.

Vincenzo Moretti was Stonehaven’s youngest financial titan— a tech mogul commanding a multibillion-dollar empire, gracing the covers of business magazines as a modern legend. But only a select few knew the truth: he was also the ruthless Don controlling the East Coast mafia. To him, wealth and power were mere chips in a game. And I? I was just another pawn used to stabilize a fragile family alliance. In our ten-year marriage, he slept with my friends, my coworkers… every single person I once trusted. Then one morning, as I took our one-month-old baby for a routine checkup, Sienna Newton, his latest mistress, ran me down with her car. The baby screamed endlessly. I begged her to take us to the hospital, and when Vincenzo arrived, he looked at me with cold disdain. “Isabella,” he sneered, “when did you learn to stage accidents? “Even if you died here, I wouldn’t bat an eye.” Then he took Sienna’s hand and walked away without a backward glance. By the time I was rushed to the hospital, the child in my arms had suffocated. Upon hearing the news, my mother suffered a heart attack. She didn’t survive. I slipped into a coma for two days. When I finally woke up, I found out that Vincenzo never visited. Instead, his father, Renato Moretti, the true king of the Moretti empire, stood by my bedside. I looked at him calmly and said, “Let me go. Whatever I owed your family, I’ve repaid in full with two lives.” Later, that same Don who had once looked down on me knelt before me, begging me to come home. But I was no longer the woman who waited, silent and broken, for his change of heart. I was the Don’s wife who turned away and never looked back.

There's this unspoken rule in werewolf high society: no matter how tight the mate bond is, business banquets mean booking a hostess. Six years into our bond, my Alpha mate—Brian Stormclaw—met one. Louise. A scrappy Omega with too much pride and not enough sense. When he offered her his black card, she pushed it back and said, "I'm not some Alpha's pampered pet." Brian? Instantly hooked. Like the Moon Goddess herself had dropped her in his lap. He chased her like he wanted her mark on every pack crest. But he forgot something—I was the Luna he wrote ninety-nine love letters to before I said yes. I didn't beg. Didn't snap. Every time he chose her over me, I lit another letter. First one burned on our anniversary—he bailed to wait outside Louise's flower shop, just to walk her home. Letter thirty-four? He left me stranded in a dangerous hunting ground to keep her company. Said she was scared of the dark. Fifty-two? Torched the second he replaced our wedding photo with some sketch she made on. ... And when the ninety-ninth turned to ash, so did whatever was left of us. I walked away. For good.

My mother-in-law’s final wish was simple—she wanted one last trip to Hawaii, to bask in the warmth of the sun before her time ran out. But her son, Vincent, didn’t see it that way. He thought I was manipulating her, using her as an excuse to drag him on a vacation he didn’t want. So, out of spite, he refused to grant her dying wish. I begged him. Pleaded. Swallowed my pride and all the hurt his accusations brought. After relentless persuasion, he finally relented. I thought, at last, I could give Lucy the happiness she deserved. But on the day we were set to leave, Vincent was nowhere to be found. And that same day, Lucy suffered a heart attack. She passed away with only me by her side—never getting to feel the warmth of the sun on her skin one last time. And then I saw it. A picture. Vincent, tagged at a luxury resort with his ex. The caption from her read: Thank you for abandoning your job to take me on this trip. You’re the best. I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I didn’t even confront him. I just packed my bags and left. And this time? Vincent found out about the truth and begged me to stay.

Three months after my baby was born, I found out my husband, Joe, was cheating. The other woman? Hailey. Pregnant and smug. Joe actually got on his knees, begging for a divorce. I said yes. Until I could find a place, Joe's mom, Claudia, let me stay at the house. "Hailey," Claudia said, "you'll handle all the household responsibilities now." Hailey, all fake enthusiasm, chirped, "I'll take good care of this family!" Claudia replied, "Great. You'll start your day at five making breakfast. When Luca's hungry, you'll feed him and change his diapers. Once he's down for a nap, clean the house, grocery shop, and prep lunch. Laundry in the afternoon, tea service mid-day, then bathe Luca and cook dinner. After that, you'll put him to bed." Hailey's face? Priceless.

I was the sole front desk clerk at a haunted hotel. Welcoming players, checking in on the bosses’ quarters, and slacking off a bit were all part of the job. At least, that was what I thought. It turned out my days were far from ordinary. A blood-drenched little girl in a tattered red dress kept ringing the service bell. Her eerie voice echoed, “Miss, why didn’t you come play with me?” A creepy black cat with glowing eyes wouldn’t stop meowing and rubbing against my legs. And then there was the old woman with claws like knives, cheerfully knitting me a sweater… out of players’ skin. One day, I took a day off to care for my sick mother. That was my biggest mistake. The entire game instance erupted in chaos. Bosses interrogated players, demanding to know where their precious front desk clerk had gone. “Did she abandon us? Is she never coming back?” I ran. They chased. But no matter how fast I fled, their grip on me only tightened. In the end, escape wasn’t an option.

I was three months pregnant when my fiancé left me to marry his first love, Isabella Thompson. Soon after, I was in a car accident. I survived, but our baby didn't. My childhood friend, Daniel Smith, found out and insisted on marrying me despite his family's objections. He spent a fortune on the best doctors to ensure I recovered fully. Later, he arranged a grand proposal, confessing he had loved me for years. I was touched and agreed to marry him. But three years later, I overheard his conversation with his friend, Mike Perez. "Remember years ago when Isabella stole Jessica's fiancé? To avoid any future trouble for Isabella, you married Jessica and even caused that car accident, which killed the baby she was carrying. Now, can she even get pregnant anymore?" Mike asked. "No, I love Isabella," Daniel replied. "I just didn't want to have any babies with Jessica, so I put birth control in her water." I trembled, unable to believe what I had heard. It turned out Isabella was also Daniel's first love. I figured it was time for me to leave.

As the daughter of a billionaire, I grew up in a world full of luxury. But when I turned 18, I gave everything I had to my brother's best friend, Nathan Gildon. He was the one my brother trusted most, the one he personally brought up. Nathan was smart and ambitious, and when he smiled, it felt as if he was handing you the whole world. I had had a crush on him for years. Last night, I thought he finally loved me back. I thought I wasn't just the girl who snuck glances at him across crowded parties anymore. I thought I was the woman he'd bring into his future. But the next morning, I heard him on the balcony, laughing with an investor friend. "Mavis is just practice. I need some experience before I pursue Claire. Besides, her family can open a lot of doors for me." I didn't cry, question him, or explain myself. I just packed my bags and changed my college applications. One week later, I was on a plane to Eltoria. And the man who betrayed me that night? He went crazy trying to win me back.

I am Charles Grant’s crush, and everyone said that he was really loyal to me. But on our third wedding anniversary, I found out that he had gotten a replacement for me. They even had a three-year-old child. I caressed my belly and tore apart the pregnancy report that I had brought to give him as a surprise.

At eight months pregnant, I was hit by a car and gave birth early. But unexpectedly, I regained my hearing. Outside the operating room, my husband was talking to the doctor. “Mr. Griffin, the baby is fully developed and stable. A normal delivery should be possible—” Albert Griffin cut him off immediately, “No, induce the labor now! I promised Summer that I would let our child rightfully join the Griffin family. Paulina is almost a month old. If she gets any older, people will figure out the truth. “If this baby doesn’t make it, that’s fine. She can always have another one. But this is the only way she will truly believe that Paulina is her own child.” I closed my eyes tightly and forced myself to stay calm. He thought his lies were perfect, but he was wrong. I heard everything. And if he could lie and pretend, so could I.