Found Family

My brother Mitchell sided with his dream girl when she accused me of bullying her. Despite being the only family member I had left, he exploded in anger and sent me away to a boarding school for so-called reformation to learn how to become a meek and obedient little sister. In time, I became exactly what he wanted—a docile sibling who never fought back, never argued. But everything changed the day he saw my medical report. He lost his mind. "Nora, I'm begging you—forgive me and let me be your brother again!"

The night before returning to the Cantrell residence, I had a dream where I was the despised antagonist in a book. In the story, my father had adopted a girl who bore an uncanny resemblance to my late mother. On the day he came to pick me up, he got into a devastating car accident. After that, my second brother, Shawn Cantrell, lashed out, calling me a curse, while my eldest brother, Seth Cantrell, treated me with cold indifference. In the end, I was abandoned by everyone, meeting a tragic and lonely end.

When the earthquake struck on what should have been our fourth wedding anniversary, my supposedly devoted and family-oriented husband, Lionel Brooks, abandoned me and our children, who were trapped under the rubble. Despite our children's pleas for help, Lionel left without a second thought, carrying his former flame, Fiona Smith, and her daughter to safety. While Fiona and her daughter escaped with minor injuries, my precious children had their chests pierced by steel beams, leaving this world forever. It was such a twisted fate. What was meant to be a day of celebration turned into an annual day of mourning for my beautiful children. A week later, during my children's funeral, Lionel had the audacity to call and ask which hospital the kids were in. It was laughable—after ensuring Fiona and her child were comfortable and safe, he finally found time to check on his flesh and blood. I could only say, "You finally remembered your children after a whole week? Lionel, I hope you rot in hell."

The day I dissolved the mate bond, I called my childhood friend to pick me up. I had a bank card with barely any balance left, my phone, and the same clothes I had worn the day I moved into this house. That was everything I owned after all those years living in the pack. My mate, Derek Anderson, called to say I had left a few things behind. "Forget it. Just throw them away." He seemed reluctant to give up. "Your son keeps saying he wants to see you." I dragged my suitcase behind me and walked away without looking back. "Tell him he'll have a new mom soon. The one he's always wanted." Like father, like son. They even fell for the same woman. In the past, I would have asked myself, 'Why won't they even look at me? I've given them so much.' Now, I felt nothing. If they didn't love me, then so be it. I would let them go and let myself go in the process too. My childhood best friend, Eric Keaton, helped me with my luggage and opened the door of his Maybach. I said one last thing to my mate. "I won't ever disturb you and your son again." After a long time, he found me. He grabbed my arm like a madman and stared at me in despair. "Leah Sullivan, why don't you care about us anymore?"

I always thought if I just held on a little longer, I could still keep this family together. But my mate Ethan and my brother William poured all their favoritism onto Ava and her mother, and left me nothing but coldness and humiliation. They could even look me in the eye and say, “She’s your sister too,” like that was enough to make me bless them. That night, I did something so insane it bordered on self-destruction: I dragged my suitcase out the door and let the house that held all my memories get swallowed by flames. The news exploded, our villa became ruins. The security footage showed “no one leaves,” and the police made a preliminary judgment that the person inside was “highly likely deceased.” Ethan didn’t believe it. Not until he and William were handed that bag of belongings at the police station, a diamond, a Blood Moonstone, the things I treasured most, did they finally understand: I wasn’t throwing a tantrum. I was really, truly done with them. Too bad. It was already too late.

In my past life, I worked at a secret research lab abroad. From there, I learned the pyro-calypse was approaching, so I quit my job, intending to gather my family to stockpile necessities and hide out in the mountains. However, my evil mother, her lover, and my brother killed me. When I next open my eyes, I find myself reborn on the day I return home. This time, I keep the news to myself and stockpile necessities in our mountain villa. At the same time, I get revenge on my evil family and make them get the punishment they deserve.

I stopped fighting. The moment I came back, I stepped out of the family spotlight on purpose— no arguments, no expectations, no awkward “let’s bond” moments. And somehow… that’s when my parents lost their minds. They made my little sister the heir? I congratulated them and filed my transfer to the Vegas branch the same afternoon. They threw her a massive coming-of-age gala? I smiled, booked a flight, and left before the invitations were printed. They bought her a limited-edition luxury car? I claimed my “old wrist injury” made driving impossible and insisted she take it. I thought they’d be relieved. I thought they’d finally get their perfect family without me messing up the picture. But instead—my cold, distant parents started calling nonstop. Showing up at my door. Pleading with me to come home. Asking what they did wrong. Why now? Why only when I stopped trying? Because in my last life, I spent decades clawing for their love— only to die bitter, resented, and humiliated. Even my grown son told me I was embarrassing. This time, I came back different. I refused to fight for a place in their world again. I refused to compete with my sister. I refused to beg. But the moment I stepped away… the entire family empire began to crack. And now they’re terrified. Not because I left— but because they finally realized what they lost.

My fiancé fell in love with a mute woman who saved his life and wanted to break off our engagement. I kindly advised her, “The Harlow family isn’t easy to be part of. You might want to reconsider.” The mute woman, feeling insulted, took poison and ended her life. Ten years later, Victor Harlow, after taking full control of the family conglomerate, did one thing: destroyed the Grant family and came for my life. “This is the debt you owe Yvonne.” When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to my 23rd birthday banquet. The patriarch, William Harlow, asked me what I wished for. “Since Victor and Yvonne are deeply in love, please let this 'perfect couple' be together.”

My father's adopted daughter was only locked in the cramped storage closet for around fifteen minutes, yet he punished me by tying me up and throwing me inside. He even sealed off the ventilation with towels. "As Wendy's older sister, if you can't take care of her, then you should also experience how scared she was," he declared coldly. He knew I was claustrophobic, but my desperate pleas for mercy, my terror, were met with nothing but heartless reprimands. "Let this be a lesson on how to be a good sister." As the last sliver of light disappeared, swallowed by the oppressive darkness, I struggled helplessly. A week passed before my father finally remembered my existence and decided it was time to end my punishment. "Let's hope this week served as a good lesson for you, Jennifer. If this happens again, you will no longer be allowed in this house." He would never know that I had already taken my last breath in that suffocating room. My body had begun to rot in the darkness.

The moment I was born, I took her life. They called me a murderer. Marcus used to burn me with cigarette butts, and Dad would say it was my fate. “You’re a curse. If you had any conscience, you’d have gone to join Mom a long time ago to repay what you owe.” When Marcus was diagnosed with kidney failure, that same cold, distant father knelt in front of me. “Please… save him…” I put my hand on Dad’s shoulder. “Dad, I’ll do the surgery. But can you promise me one thing?” Dad performed the surgery himself. It was a success. He saved the son he loved most and took the life of the daughter he hated. But after I died, Dad turned himself in to the police, and Marcus lost his mind.