Flower Mound Escape Room

The night before my wedding, my best friend flew back from overseas to attend my bachelor party. We were just having a few drinks when his stomach started acting up, so I quickly reached into his bag for his medication. Instead of pills, I found a naughty remote control. I grinned mischievously and waved a hand toward him. “Didn’t know you were getting this wild overseas, man.” He smiled awkwardly and told me to just hand him the medicine and not to touch anything else. Alas, his reaction made me even more curious. So I purposely pressed on one of the buttons. The next second, my fiancee, who was sitting right next to us, shuddered.

At my engagement dinner with Greg Willis, the Rossi mafia family’s underboss, his assistant, Sydney Carlson, casually tossed a half-eaten cookie on his plate in front of everyone. Greg didn’t react. In full view of the guests, he calmly picked it up and ate it. That night, after we returned, I told him I wanted to call off the engagement. He rubbed his brow with his fingertips, his voice steady in that familiar, composed way of his, yet there was distance beneath it. “All this,” he said, “over a cookie?” “She already took a bite,” I corrected him. He fell silent for a moment before replying in a low voice, “Zoe, you’ve always been sensible. Why get hung up on something so small?” “I’m not hung up,” I said evenly. “I just don’t want to settle.” When he saw that I wouldn’t back down, something complicated flickered in his eyes. Then, his tone hardened, almost like a warning. “Think it through carefully. Don’t you regret it.” He was certain I couldn’t leave him. After all, he was a mafia underboss. There were countless people eager to take the position of Mrs. Willis, and I was nothing more than a minor employee at his company. What he didn’t know was that I had never coveted the title of his wife. All I ever had for him was love. But now, that love was gone, and once I turned away, I would never look back again.

Everyone in the pack envies how devoted Kingsley Laurent is to me. After getting appointed as Alpha, he turns down every she-wolf who throws herself at him and vows to wait until his position is fully secure before marking me. The mate bonding ceremony he promises is the most sacred of all, one that would place me beside him as Luna and establish our pup as his rightful heir. Kingsley openly despises my rebellious sister, Heather Johnson. His eyes harden whenever her name comes up. "Don't let your train wreck of a sister ruin our ceremony." Until one night, when I find a voice message on Heather's phone and hear his voice—hoarse, ragged with desire. "Will you shift for me tonight, baby? I want to see you in chains." While he claims he's on a business trip down south, he's actually spending the night with my sister at a couples' hotel. Over the phone, he swears his devotion to me. "If I ever betray you, may I be punished by losing you forever." At the same time, he grabs Heather by the chin and says coldly, "I will only ever have one Luna, and that's Eliza Johnson. You're just a plaything." Since he made that vow, I'll fulfill it for him. I fake my death, burn down our home, and vanish from his world with his pup growing inside me.

Before the start of the marking ceremony, my mate's childhood sweetheart, Gracie Green, almost drowns in the swimming pool. Simon Lloyd is bent on thinking that I was the one who pushed Gracie into the pool with the intent to murder her. So, he has me tied up in the bathtub as a punishment. "One year ago, you pushed Gracie down the stairs and cost her her pup! Now, you even intend to drown her! Why are you such a vile and selfish she-wolf? "Anyway, the marking ceremony shall only be held once you've finally acknowledged your mistakes!" When I'm in the middle of getting corroded by silver nitrate, Simon is busy celebrating Gracie's birthday with her. When Gracie pretends to be all gracious by suggesting to Simon that I should be released, he replies instantly, "Hmph! I'll only let Juliette out when she finally apologizes for her mistakes! This is what she gets for bullying you all the time, anyway!" After that, he gives my favorite moonstone necklace to Gracie as her birthday gift. One week later, Simon receives the prenatal vitamins that I've bought beforehand. He's finally willing to release me from the bathroom. The news of my pregnancy delights him so much that he keeps telling everyone he meets that he's about to become a father. But what he doesn't know is that the water running from the bathtub's tap has been changed to silver nitrate. My body has gotten corroded to the point that I'm now a pile of bones.

The golden boy of high society once stopped a plane for me. And I? I once ran away while pregnant, disappearing for three years. We got married. Nine years later, a younger, stunning woman appeared by his side. She was vibrant and fearless, joining him in all his wild adventures. Meanwhile, I had become a stay-at-home mom, spending my days making sure our daughter didn’t eat junk food. My husband said in disappointment, “Elaine, you’re not the woman you used to be.” Even our daughter complained. “Miss Snow is smart, gorgeous, and makes her own money. But you? You just rely on my dad.” The next morning, I grabbed my ID and filed for divorce. They must have forgotten that at twenty-two, I had the guts to jump off a cliff into the ocean just to break free, and at thirty-five, I would still have the strength to start over.

My mother was the Chosen Luna—the one who once conquered three powerful Alphas. When her mission was done, she vanished from this world, leaving behind only me, and the three Alphas who had once loved her with everything they had. My first father, Alpha Jeff Tanners, ruled the Silver Moon Pack—rich enough to buy half the continent. My second father, Alpha Kael Grey, commanded all the warriors of the Northern Alliance. My third father, Alpha Bran Theron, held every medical resource wolves and humans depended on. For eighteen years, I was their cherished little princess. Whatever I wanted, they gave—no questions, no hesitation. Until they brought home that girl—a fragile orphan named Arie Ryker. From that day on, everything changed. She told them I called her a filthy stray, unworthy of our pack. She said I led the young wolves at school to bully her. She said I tampered with her performance costume, that I caused her allergy, that I made her faint on stage. And they believed her. They stopped believing me. The ninety-ninth time they chose her over me, when they shouted, "Don't come back again!", I didn't argue. I just picked up my luggage and left. They thought I'd come running home like before—that my disappearance was just another way to make them see me. But when they found out I had left the pack for good, that my identity had been erased, that I could no longer be found, the three mighty Alphas finally broke.

I spent five years taking the blame for a truth that could have destroyed my Alpha. In Blackthorn Pack, everyone mocked me as the wolfless Omega who couldn’t bear an heir. They said I was unfit to be Luna. They said Adrian Hale should cast me aside for a stronger woman. What none of them knew was that Adrian was the infertile one. I burned the report myself and let the whole pack shame me for his weakness. I gave up my studies, my pride, and everything I loved to protect him. Then his mistress got pregnant. And I heard the truth with my own ears. “She has no wolf, no pack, no one to stand up for her. Even if she makes a scene, the Elders’ Council won’t take her side.” That was the moment I understood. For power, for bloodline, for status, Adrian had already chosen Lydia Ashcroft, the Alpha’s daughter carrying a child he couldn’t possibly have fathered. So I severed our mate bond. I took nothing from him except the look on his face when he opened the medical report I left behind. Patient: Adrian Hale. Diagnosis: congenital azoospermia. Infertile. What Adrian never knew was that I was never wolfless. I was the lost daughter of a Lycan King. And in my bloodline, a wolf does not awaken until her family calls her home. The one who could never have children was never me. It was the man who begged the world to believe otherwise.

After I fell while pregnant, my six-year-old son, Nico Bertelli, did not come to help me. When I woke up, the baby in my belly was gone. At my hospital bedside, Nico hid behind my husband, Roberto Bertelli, and mumbled, "Mommy, I thought you fainted on purpose to get my attention. You've pretended to pass out a few times before just to stop me from going out with Ms. Pelosi." Roberto chimed in coldly, "You're always pulling tricks to get attention. Nico doesn't even trust you anymore. You need to take a hard look at yourself and figure out why he prefers being around Martina Pelosi over you." I was completely heartbroken. The day after I was discharged, I went home, packed up everything that belonged to me, and left behind only two documents: a divorce agreement and a letter terminating my parental rights.

"Mom, please stop searching for a lover. I don't want Fathe r's condition to deteriorate further due to your behavior. Ot herwise, I will destroy any relationship you have with any m an!" Chelsea admonished, giving a warning. She had lost c ount of how many warnings she had given, given the nume rous men her mother had approached for money, despite h er father's serious illness. "It's up to you, do whatever you want. I don't care anymore because I can't bear to live in poverty," the mother replied c almly, indifferent to Chelsea's feelings. "Fine, if that's what you want. I swear I will marry one of yo ur most meaningful lovers!" Chelsea promised her mother when the pain had taken over her.

The day I win the cheerleading championship, the entire arena erupts with cheers for my team. But from the stands, my brother, Nelson Locke, hurls a water bottle straight at me. "You injured Felicia's leg before the performance just so you could win first place? She has leukemia, Victoria! Her dying wish is to become a champion. Yet you tripped her before the competition, all for a trophy! You're selfish. I don't have a sister like you!" My fiance, who also happens to be the sponsor of the competition, steps onto the stage with a cold expression and announces, "You tested positive for illegal substances. You don't deserve this title. You're disqualified." All the fans turn against me. They boycott me entirely—some even go so far as to create a fake memorial portrait of me, print it, and send it to my doorstep. I quietly keep the photo. I'll probably need it soon anyway. It's been three years since I was diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor. Knowing I don't have much time left, I choose to become the type of person they always wanted me to be—the perfect sister who loves without question, the well-mannered woman who knows when to keep quiet, and the kind of person who never, ever lies.