Forcibly Thesaurus

On the night of the full moon, my fated mate, Alpha Chase Howler of the Redstone Pack, rejects me right in front of everyone. He has one arm slung around my best friend, Bella Hooks. "Daisy, you're too much of a traditionalist, not to mention you're very domineering. Bella, on the other hand, is very understanding and docile. She's the one who's meant to be my Luna." I try to explain to Chase that this is the Moon Goddess' arrangement for us. Yet, Bella clutches her chest before collapsing into Chase's arms, her eyes already reddened. "Daisy, I'm not a powerful healer like you. I know that I'm far too useless. If my death allows you to be with Chase, then I shall die right now." Chase is heartbroken, to say the least. He forcibly rejects our bond, completely disregarding the fact that we've been together for years. When I spit out some blood and collapse to the ground, Chase doesn't even bother glancing at me. Instead, he busies himself in comforting Bella, who has suffered from shock. As my punishment for making Bella sad, Chase decides to make me kneel before the altar until I'm willing to admit my mistakes. "You can only get up to your feet when you decide to apologize to Bella." I end up kneeling before the altar for three days and three nights before finally collapsing into a dead faint. When I stir awake once again, two mating marks have occupied my neck. I see the Alpha twins, Kyle and Ryan Grayback, standing in front of me. Legend has it that they are the violent and bloodthirsty rulers of the Snowlight Pack in the north. Later on, Chase begins regretting his decision to reject me like mad. He relentlessly pleads with me to give him another chance. But my mates are quick to refute, "How dare you ogle our Luna, you filthy mongrel!"

When I'm seven years old, my dad turns me in to the Court Judgment of the Born Wicked because of my tendency to vomit. If I'm found guilty, my blood ties with my dad will be forcibly severed. Then, I'll be sent to prison. Everyone claims that Dad is just making a fuss over nothing. "Your daughter is still so young, so it's natural for her to fall ill. As a father, you should be more considerate toward her." But when the evidence is shown, everyone clamps up immediately. There was once when Dad drank so much to the point he suffered from gastric bleeding. The business contract that he managed to convince his client to sign was all soiled because I vomited on him as soon as he got home. Thanks to me, the contract was voided. Dad got fired on the spot. During Bryce Fuller, my older brother's birthday, I vomited onto his birthday cake in front of his classmates. Because of that, Bryce was isolated by all of his classmates. He became so depressed that he tried to slit his wrist in an attempt to take his own life. I'll keep vomiting everywhere, be it at the dining table or on my bed. Dad and Bryce have to clean me up more than 30 times every day. They suffer greatly because of me. What angers everyone the most is that after I'm done vomiting, I'll laugh at everyone in a provocative manner. The judge gives his verdict instantly, claiming that I'm wicked by nature. Bryce's eyes redden immediately. As he cries, he tells me that he can't bear to see me leaving him. I never shed any tears, nor do I throw a tantrum. Instead, I accept the judge's verdict calmly, but with a prerequisite condition that the judge finishes watching my memories. The judge is shocked, to say the least. "We'll have to crack your skull open in order to extract your memories. You'll be in a world of pain. Are you sure about that?" I nod in determination. But Bryce, on the other hand, looks alarmed. "I won't agree to that!"

When I was 18 years old, Luigi Conti, the craziest heir of the Conti family, pulled out a gun at an auction and executed the Don of the Serra family. That man happened to be my foster father, also the one who had me auctioned away as though I were a slave. When he was being dragged toward the armored car by the military police, he kept laughing like mad despite having blood streaking down his face. "Why must I atone for my sins? Since God refuses to save you, let me be your savior! From now on, no one in Sandalay has the guts to clip your wings anymore, my darling Isabella!" Seven years later, Luigi gets released from prison. He looks at me as I wash dishes for a living in the slums before snuffing out the cigar trapped between his fingers. That night, Luigi returns to his family and steals the position of the Don. After we get married, I'm the only person who has the highest access over the vaults under the Conti family. Luigi even forcibly expands the ring that signifies ultimate authority—which has been passed down from generation to generation for a century—and slides it onto my ring finger. He buys half of Sandalay's estates just so he can fill the vineyards with the white grapes I've mentioned in passing. He tells me that his turf is called Isabella. But everything changes when I discover a photo album stashed in a hidden compartment in Luigi's study. All 2,000 photos feature a young woman in a white dress who is reading in the library. That is the female assassin he's planning on training. The woman looks very pure and innocent. She's most suited to conquer certain bigwigs' hearts. But now, it seems that Luigi's the one being conquered by her. When Luigi finds out about my discovery, he throws the photo album into the fireplace and watches it burn in the fire with a stony expression. "I'm just repackaging her so that she can aid me in money laundering. Just pretend you never saw the photo album." I push the signed divorce agreement over to Luigi. "I said, sign the agreement." Frustrated, Luigi pins the divorce agreement on the table with a knife, his expression insanely dark. "Isabella Serra, have you forgotten about the Conti family's rules? There's no such thing as divorce. We can only be widowed."