Novel & Cerita Found Family

When my parents got old, they needed someone to take care of them. Katerina—my younger sister—was off to Amiraka with her smug husband Chris. Meanwhile, I was crammed into a two-bedroom in Bellavaro with my husband Pavel, who drove a taxi. Mom had no retirement savings, so guess who she dumped herself on? Yep—me. Dad took the cash and ran straight to Katerina. Our place was tiny, but we still gave Mom the master bedroom. She hated it. Constant complaints, constant drama. According to her, life with me was pure misery. Every night, she'd hop on video call with Katerina, gushing about Amiraka like it was heaven, while throwing shade at me for not "taking care of her properly." Meanwhile, I was drowning—trying to hold it together for Mom, help my daughter prep for exams, support a husband with spine problems, and check in on aging in-laws. Mom didn't care. She wanted a plane ticket to Amiraka to party for Katerina's birthday. I snapped. We had a blowout fight, and she collapsed—brain hemorrhage. Even in her hospital bed, she stared me down, whining Katerina's name like a broken record. Then she spat out, "I should've never picked a useless daughter like you!" My chest cracked in half. I blacked out. When I woke up—I was ten years younger. Back to the day they decided who'd get stuck taking care of them. This time, Mom didn't wait. "I want Katerina to take care of me. It's my turn to enjoy life!"

The day my mom was beaten up for being a mistress, I slammed the family crest into my dad’s face. I had been studying abroad, and on my return flight, I came across a video. The title read, [Richest Family’s Heirs Defend Their Mom and Beat Up Mistress.] In the video, my mother was wearing coarse linen clothes while my brothers surrounded her. They were punching and kicking her. They even tore her clothes and cussed her out as a shameless mistress. Her eyes were teary as she desperately tried to explain. However, she was only met with mocking laughter. A stranger in haute couture stood shielded behind them, and she sweetly said, “Alright, I know you’re doing this for me, but we don’t need to waste our time on ungrateful people.” The surrounding guests showered her with birthday wishes and praised her for her graciousness. “This is the grace befitting Mrs. Roth! Do some people really not own a mirror at home?” “A mistress dares to call herself Mrs. Roth? Doesn’t she know the entire Roth family was built on her assets? Which part of her looks like a lady?” Hearing them call her “Mrs. Roth,” I clenched my phone, and the screen reflected my icy expression. I had only been away from home for three years. How did I not know that I had acquired such a despicable “mother”?

On the day of the mating ceremony, I'm supposed to be marked by William Ernst and become the Luna of the Shadow pack. However, Annie Denver, my younger twin sister, suddenly comes back from abroad. Dad, Mom, and William end up abandoning me, choosing to pick her up from the airport. While Annie posts a family photo on Facebook, flaunting how everyone in the family loves her, my family cuts me off whenever I try to contact them through mind-link. They end up closing the mind-link. After calling countless times, William finally accepts my call and asks me to stop rushing him. He tells me that today's mating ceremony is canceled and will be rescheduled on another date. My dearest parents, brother, and the man I love the most all turn me into the laughingstock of the entire pack—and the most ridiculous bride of all. Despite being laughed at, I didn't cry or make a scene. After taking care of everything, I write a number in my journal—the 99th time. This is the 99th time they have disappointed me. From this moment on, I won't beg for their love anymore. I fill out an application for Arcetic expedition, ready to leave them. They all think that my silence and constant compromises with Annie mean I've matured. They fail to realize that I'm disappointed to the core. I am leaving for good.

Five years ago, my Alpha parents rescued me from an orphanage and brought me home to the Blue Moon Pack. I thought my life was finally taking a turn for the better. I thought I was safe. But I was wrong. Yolanda McKinney—the fake heiress—conspired with rogue wolves to destroy me. They kidnapped me, ran over my legs with a car, breaking them, and left me battered and bleeding. When my parents and my childhood sweetheart, Joseph Delgado, found me lying in a pool of my own blood, their panic was unmistakable. They rushed me to the pack hospital, but the diagnosis was devastating: I might never walk again. Joseph proposed to me on the spot, vowing to stand by me through everything. My parents, furious at Yolanda's betrayal, promised swift justice. They assured me they had cut all ties with her, that she'd fled in guilt and drowned in a tragic accident. I believed them. I had to. For five years, I focused on recovery, trying to rebuild my shattered life. My marriage to Joseph was my anchor, the one thing I thought I could trust. Until the day I saw Yolanda McKinney alive. "You and Mom and Dad saved my life," she said smugly, her voice dripping with venom. "Without you, that pathetic cripple would’ve been the end of me." My blood ran cold as she continued. "But she never suspected, not even for a second, that you and I have a pup. Mom and Dad? They erased every trace, switched her meds for useless pills—hell, they even buried the evidence." Joseph's response shattered what little remained of my heart. "Don't make it sound so harsh," he murmured. "Marrying her was the only way I could keep sending those forgiveness letters. It was the only way to keep you and our son safe." Every word stabbed me like a blade. My marriage? A lie. My parents? Traitors who discarded me like trash. The justice they’d promised me? A farce. Fine. If I meant nothing to them, then they would mean nothing to me.

I've died on my wedding day. When I'm in the middle of getting cruelly tortured by the thugs, my parents, older brother, and my fiance are all comforting my younger adopted sister, Arianna Capuano, who's bawling her eyes out. Before I die, I've called them for help. But Diego Atzori, my fiance who's the next Don of the Atzori family, sounds extremely angry at me when he picks up the call. "Carlotta Capuano, Arianna's life is more important than our marriage! Stop putting on an act just to attract attention!" The call goes dead. My life is also entering its countdown. I can only lie in my own puddle of blood, my body broken and mutilated, until I stop breathing entirely. No one can find me at home. They think I'm just throwing a tantrum because the wedding has gotten canceled. Perhaps I've chosen to run away from the altar just so I can attract their attention. What they don't know is the fact that I've never left home. In fact, I've died in the basement of my own house. I died right beneath their feet.

After my sister stole my boyfriend 11 times, I decided to take action. I went out and found myself a fool to date, just to see if she'd still try to take him away. But I never expected that one day, my "foolish" boyfriend would stop being so dumb. In fact, he became a scoundrel.

I was born broken. My Alpha mother was the one who branded me. She said emotion was a sin. A weakness. Especially for a werewolf. Especially for an Alpha’s heir. The day we were born, she clamped emotion-suppressing collars around our necks. Mine and my twin sister's. The slightest flicker of emotion, and the collar flashed red. My mother would then push the button, injecting me with a diluted "silver solution" to suppress my feelings. But my sister Cassia's collar? Always a calm, steady blue. Even when she shattered Mom's precious moonstone, it just pulsed gently. And me? I’d just whisper, "Mom, the thunder scares me," and my collar would erupt in a violent red. Then came the sting of silver poison burning through my blood.. I used to argue. But Mom always said the same thing. "The data doesn't lie. Pain is a teacher. This is for your own good." After thousands of these injections, I started to believe it, too. That I was born out of control. The night of the alliance's Moon Goddess Festival, Mom was taking my sister to the rooftop party. Something scared me during the day. The collar flashed red, and my mother started the punishment. But this time, the collar malfunctioned. It shot a dose a thousand times stronger into my neck. I collapsed on the carpet, begging, "Mother, the collar... it hurts so much... help me." My collar was flashing a frantic red. My mother just looked down at me, drenched in a cold sweat, and pressed the button for the maximum dose. "You'd lose control like this just for attention? You're a lost cause." She turned, took my sister, and slammed the door. I couldn't help but think, Mom must be right. The collar is red. It doesn't really hurt. I'm just being dramatic, looking for pity again. I'm sorry, Mom. In my next life, I'll be the perfect daughter you always wanted.

My father was a senior HR executive. He used KPIs to define my life. "Rank top ten in your grade, and I'll give you a B, with a bonus of 250 dollars. "Place in a state-level competition, and you'll get an A, with a bonus of 500. "If your SAT score hits Ivy-level, I'll give you an S+ and a 5,000-dollar year-end bonus." I studied as if my life depended on it, and in the end, I got the acceptance letter. My father slapped a contract down in front of me instead. "Congratulations on onboarding into the next phase. Starting today, your allowance will be structured as base salary plus performance plus attendance bonus. "Base pay is 250 dollars a month, enough to keep you from starving. "To prepare you for a high-pressure work environment, I’ll conduct random inspections. Fail, and your pay gets docked." When I ran a 104°F fever, he cut my attendance bonus, saying my physical resilience didn't meet standards. When I forgot to submit a weekly report because I was buried in schoolwork, he froze all my money. To stay alive, I went behind his back and sold blood at the hospital. At the end of the semester, I held my transcript and scholarship certificate, thinking I had finally earned the highest rating. But my father looked at me without a trace of warmth. "Your S+ bonus has been reallocated. The company decided to invest it in your brother, Harry. He has more potential." I looked at the 100-dollar "consolation prize" he handed me and laughed. So in his company, I didn't even qualify as an "outstanding employee."

During a mission overseas, I shielded my younger brother from an explosion—only to wake up months later, my body broken, my mind trapped in the void of a coma. Grateful for my sacrifice, he repaid me by marrying my wife. When I finally clawed my way back to consciousness and rushed home, I found my son kneeling on the ground, sobbing as his college acceptance letter lay shredded in his fists. My nephew loomed over him, slamming a steel pipe into his back. "Lick my shoes clean," he sneered. "Who are you to think you deserve an education?" And there was my wife clapping in delight, dabbing the sweat from my nephew’s brow like a doting servant. "You’re just like your deadbeat father," My wife spat. "Born to be my stepping stone." My eyes bloodshot, I tightened my fists. Every last one of them would pay for this dearly.

After my older sister Rachelle came home from dialysis, the atmosphere at home was suffocating. She curled up on the couch, thin as a rail. She was nagging me hard and telling me not to tire myself out too much at work. Dad was by the door smoking. To get money to treat Rachelle’s condition, he had sold our old house and land. Dirty and muddied, my fiance, who had always viewed Rachelle as a sister of his own, brought home his week’s salary. They all lamented how unfair life was to already poor and suffering people who had to suffer even more. I looked at myself in the mirror with my bleeding nose and flushed away the report with my acute leukemia diagnosis. During dinner, Dad suddenly said, “Ryleigh, Rachelle needs a kidney. You’re healthy and young. You might be a match.” I looked at Rachelle’s pleading eyes and coldly put my cutlery down. “I won’t do it. I’ll be a cripple with one less kidney. How am I supposed to find someone to marry then?” Dad slapped me hard, even as my fiance called me ungrateful. I slammed the door shut as I left. I looked for the nearest room to the hospital to rent so that I could wait it out until I died. The room I found was only five blocks away from the organ donation center.