Female Solidarity

In my past life, I walked away from an invitation to the elite Academy just to take the fall for Luca. He held my hand, swearing he’d get me out. Swearing he’d keep me safe for the rest of my life. Instead, I rotted in a cell until I died. While I was bleeding out on the cold floor, Luca was marrying the Don’s daughter, living the high life. When I opened my eyes, I was back. Luca was sixteen again, face pale as a sheet, shoving a bloody gun into my hands. "Elena, you're a lifesaver." I slapped the piece away. "Dream on. I ain't taking the rap for you this time."

I give my grandmother a gift she'll never forget on her 60th birthday. My husband and I get into a fight on the highway back to my hometown. He pulls over in the emergency lane and chases me out of the car. He then drives off, leaving me stranded on the highway. He later gets into a major accident on the highway. His car is totaled, and he dies. It's actually not an accident—it's homicide. I'm the murderer.

My foster sister, Gloria Binder, and I married a pair of werewolf brothers. I married the older brother, the steady one who ran the Dixon household. She married the man who held power over the entire pack. We got pregnant in the same year. In a couple of months, they would be able to take a sample of our babies' cardiogen and use it as medicine to treat their fathers' illness. Two months before my due date, the gates of the outer villa were kicked open. The intruders beat me, fists and boots coming down hard, then forced a bowl of labor-inducing medicine down my throat. I screamed at the maid beside me to run and get my mate. But all I got back was his message. He was furious. "You said you wanted peace and quiet and insisted on staying at the secluded villa to rest. Now you're pulling something this low just to drag me over there? I don't have time to waste on you. Judy needs a few plants moved into her yard. She's delicate and can't do heavy work. I'm helping her." The medicine had already taken effect. I could feel the baby thrashing, as if it were about to tear its way out of me. I would have died from the pain if Gloria hadn't come back from gathering herbs and saved my life. She sent people to find my mate and demand justice for me. Yet, all she got was another message. "You're living just fine in the villa. Who would dare hurt you? I need to help my brother plant a few more shrubs for Judy. I don't have time for your petty drama!" Gloria was pregnant, too. After being beaten and kicked, she lost her baby. We lay in a pool of blood, holding each other. "Gloria," I whispered through tears, "I don't want to repay any debts anymore. I want to sever my bond with Lesley."

In this world, there are more ways to deal with a problem than the problem itself. That applies just as well to cheating men. Rich men, especially, will go to absurd lengths just to have more women in their lives. There's no trick too low, no scheme too shameless. Take my boss, for example. He handed over his stunning mistress to me. Honestly, I suspected he couldn't perform in bed, because she came into my bedroom night after night.

My mate, Alpha Julian, was born ruthless. He fell for a mute human girl, an innocent orphan whose scent could calm any wolf. He’d fought in pack wars his whole life. But with her, he discovered love. He only mated with me to secure his bloodline. His wolf never wanted me. I found out about their affair and confronted him at the full moon ceremony. I screamed. I raged. He didn't even look at me. "If you can't accept her," he said, "we can sever the bond. I'll give you your freedom and half my wealth." I refused. Again and again. But he was relentless. He wiped out my pack. He allied with witches and tortured my parents to death in silver cages. I knelt before him, broken and begging. I could only watch as dark magic devoured them. The pain shattered me. I passed out. And woke up on the day I first learned of his betrayal. This time, I didn't scream. I plotted. I contacted a powerful Alpha in the North, arranging sanctuary for my people. I planned my escape. But when I finally vanished, Julian was the one who went insane. He was the one who begged me to come back.

When I was ten, I accidentally overheard my mother on the phone. It seemed like she was talking about me being a switched-at-birth rich girl, and that my real last name was Gardner. The coldness and cruelty my mother had shown me all these years suddenly made sense. When I turned 11, I paid an adult to get a maternity test done for both my mother and me. The results confirmed that I was indeed her biological daughter. I kept the report to myself and pretended I was still in the dark.

Albert Roosevelt was the crush I was never meant to have. Like an idiot, I believed loving someone meant giving them everything, even if they didn't care about you. So, I trailed after him like a desperate puppy, bending over backward to meet his every whim. When he couldn't afford tuition, I begged Dad to fund him, sending him to the best schools. When his worn-out clothes made him a laughingstock, I pitied him and showered him with designer labels. And what did he do? He used what I gave him to chase after a gold-digging campus belle. To keep up appearances, he blew through money like it grew on trees. He even spread rumors that he was the real heir to the Roosevelts. To him, I was just an ATM. "Your family's loaded. It's not like you'll miss a few hundred grand. If you're gonna be stingy, maybe you should stop following me around," he said when his wallet ran dry. And like a fool, I believed that if I kept paying, someday, he'd love me back. After graduation, I funded his startup. The second it took off, he married the campus belle. He had the nerve to claim he earned everything through nothing but hard work. So, I crashed his wedding, and he buried a knife in my chest. "Only when you're dead, Eve Roosevelt. Only then will my pathetic past stay buried." When I opened my eyes again, I was face-to-face with a scowling Albert. "You can't scrape together a few hundred thousand dollars? It's Bianca's birthday. Are you trying to humiliate me?" I looked around the room and rolled my eyes. "Sure, I'll pay. But first? Kneel. You look pretty enough. Consider it charity, peasant."

My best friend and I grow up together, and we each have our childhood friends. When we're old enough, we marry our childhood friends. One is a doctor, and one is a firefighter. We even fall pregnant one after the other. During our pregnancies, we go out for a stroll. Suddenly, I'm rammed over, and I fall into the river. My best friend miscarries after trying to save me, and my child dies in my belly, too. I call my husband. However, he roars, "Cass is in danger; I have to save her first! Stop bothering me!" My best friend is also reprimanded by her husband. After giving birth to the dead fetuses, we both decide to get divorced. However, the two men weep and beg us not to leave.

Our daughter was diagnosed with a genetic illness. To save her, my husband founded a charity in her name. To raise the funds, he pushed himself to the brink—working three hundred days straight, surviving on three hours of sleep a night. His relentless drive moved countless people. The media hailed him as "Father of the Year." Everyone congratulated me on having such a devoted partner. Then came the day he rallied the entire nation, securing pledges for millions in donations to fund our daughter's cure. At the gala, with over ten million dollars moments from being transferred, I suddenly hit the pause button. "And now, we'll take a brief intermission for a signing," I announced. The room erupted. They shouted at me, called me selfish, a monster. My husband stared at me, utterly stunned. "Have you lost your mind? Children around the world are waiting on this money to survive! What in God's name are you talking about?" I lifted my gaze to meet his. "A divorce agreement."

I was diagnosed with cancer. After much deliberation, I called my husband. He fell silent for a long while. “Most of our mortgage is unpaid, and our children need money for school. You should go for conservative treatment.” I called my mother while weeping. “You’re so troublesome. None of my friends or family have cancer!” I stopped crying and started living for myself. God favored me and let me see reality early in my life. He even gave me a chance to start over.