Handled With Care

I'm the Whitefang Pack Alpha's daughter. Thanks to Samzor—Alpha of Nightfang and my so-called betrothed—I got shoved into a mate bond with a limp rogue. He sold out three generations of Nightfang war honors just to make it happen. Dad lost it. He went straight to Nightfang territory, demanding answers. Samzor? He laughed. "Alpha Connor, come on. Nyara's your heir. You'd never let her actually mate a cripple. "I've loved her for seven years. I'd never mistreat her. I just need her to compromise—let Catherine stay with me. "Don't stress. Catherine's obedient. Polite. She'll make a good servant for Nyara." Catherine. A fox-wolf halfblood he dragged in from a border patrol. Scared I'd kick her out the second our bond was sealed, he cooked up this garbage plan to trap me. Only problem? The Alpha King's decree doesn't do take-backs. Mom handled the dowry. I'd go through with the ceremony. Bond to that rogue. After that? Samzor was dead to me.

My father died of esophageal cancer. For the final two years of his life, he could barely swallow anything. By the time he passed, he was nothing but skin and bones. The first New Year after his death, he came to my mother in a dream. "I'm starving," he said. "I just want to taste the thick-cut steak you used to make." My mother believed it without question. That very day, she pan-seared a large platter of steak and carried it to his grave. The next morning, she suffered a sudden heart attack and died on the spot. Devastated, I handled my mother's funeral together with my husband. That same night, my husband dreamed of my father as well. "Chester," he said, "I haven't eaten in so long. I want your pâté, served with some strong liquor." When my husband woke up, he bought the finest liver pâté, opened a bottle of single-malt whiskey, and went straight to the grave. However, not long after returning home, he collapsed from acute liver failure. He was rushed to the ICU and died three days later. I was on the brink of collapse myself. I left my daughter in the care of a close friend while I tried to handle the endless wave of tragedy. That evening, my daughter never came home from school. I searched everywhere, and finally, on the road to the cemetery, I found her. She was clutching a bowl of spicy stew, several grilled sausages floating in the broth. "Mom," she said, "Grandpa and I used to eat this all the time. I dreamed he said he was hungry." I finally lost it. I knocked the bowl from her hands and carried her home. That night, my father appeared in my dream once more. "I suffered so much while alive," he said. "Have some pity on me. "New Year's is coming. I want to come home for a meal. Make sure you cook fish." I woke in terror. Holding my daughter, I sat before the three framed portraits for two full days without eating or drinking. On New Year's morning, I realized she was no longer breathing. Clutched tightly in her hand was a packet of spicy dried salmon. I could not believe it. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my mother, her eyes red with worry, said she was going out to buy steak.

"I’m just a 19-year-old, teenager and I already have a baby to take care of" her former mistress died due to child delivery, they entrusted an irresponsible, arrogant, and temperamental girl to take care of the child. Not until she realized that taking care of the child changed her " I should just get rid of this kid"

I’m the Blackthorn family’s top surgeon and their “cleaner.” I’ve handled countless messes for Evan Blackthorn. I was also his secret lover for five years. He was inside me more times than I can count, holding me tight as I came apart, kissing me with an obsession for my body he never bothered to hide. It all ended after sex one night, when he said with a casual laugh, “I should get a wife, Rachel.” “And maybe you should find a good man and get married, too.” I wasn’t angry. I just quietly said, “Okay.” In my last life, I insisted on staying by his side. It got me both my hands broken, my career as a surgeon shattered. In the end, during a raid by a rival family, he left me behind as bait, holding his brother’s widow, Sofia, tenderly in his arms. So this time, I learned my lesson. I stayed away from him. Found a new man, just like he wanted. But this time, the always cool and calculated Mafia Don lost his mind.

Michael Roy was an ordinary student, & was very poor. Because of his poverty, his so called girlfriend left him & insulted him. his classmates also humiliated & looked down on him. But who knows, after reaching home one day, he received a letter from Russia stating that it was from his dad after so many missing years would change his whole life? "my son. Your dad is the most powerful person of this country. I know you will have a lot of questions. you have suffered a lot. But now i will make sure that you won't find a single problem in your whole life. I am transferring 10 million dollars for a start as your daily livings. Just make me a call if you need more." Then the story of Michael started suddenly from an extremely poor guy to the richest kid of not only his city but of a whole country. He bought houses, few extreme high model cars, visited most reputed places & top most services. The most important thing, not only his girlfriend & classmates, he stunned many most reputed people of his city Arizona & other cities too. This story describes the journey of a young man's poor lifestyle & his lavish lifestyle. It also describes how he handled billions of money & became the greatest of all.

It's my husband, Niall Luther's birthday. I take my son to the hospital to visit Niall since he's working late; I want to surprise him. However, we get into an accident on the way there. When I rush to the hospital with my bloodied son in my arms, I see Niall holding his first love's daughter. He coos at her and says, "This might be a small wound, but there's a risk of infection if it isn't handled well!" His first love, Chelsea Blanc, gives him a chiding look. "You treat Lulu so well that I'm getting jealous." Niall wraps an arm around her. "It's only because I love you. You're the one I love the most." I pull out my phone and call him. He keeps his arm around Lulu White and rejects my call. So, I text him, telling him our son is injured and has been taken to the hospital where he works. I tell him he needs to attend to our son. However, he berates me for lying. I have no choice but to take my son elsewhere for treatment. Before leaving, I see Niall kiss Chelsea tenderly and tell her he wants to take her to an amusement park. That's when I know he and I are over.

Hannah Snow: the poor secretary They met for the first time when she accidentally caught him having passionate sex with a hot woman. Since then, their fates have been sealed! After graduating from college, her soft heart led her to be deceived into working like a slave in his company. She had never seen someone so shamelessly promiscuous, changing girlfriends more frequently than clothes—he was basically a playboy! As his indispensable secretary, she not only handled daily tasks but also endured being slapped by his occasional flings. On top of that, she had to memorize all the birthdays and preferences of the ladies in his dating roster! She even had to prepare hotels for him and clean up all the messes he left behind. Late at night, she would receive his calls and rush to hotels without a single complaint, handling his rendezvous affairs. Look around the entire secretary world, and you won't find anyone as versatile as her! Enough was enough!!!! This time, she was determined to say goodbye to him. Charles Smith- the CEO He was the CEO of Universal Pictures, a playboy who never rejected any beautiful woman. No matter what type of woman, they all fell for him easily, surrendering to his charm. However, there are exceptions to his charm, and this cold-faced secretary was simply born to be his undoing. A bet gave him a reason to pursue her! This woman he had been eyeing for so long, he had finally taken her for himself!

My mother fell critically ill and was rushed to the hospital. Desperate, I knelt before my fiancé—the department's chief surgeon—and begged him to take charge of her operation. But outside the ICU, he was carefully tending to a scraped knee. Lucy Wendell's scraped knee, to be exact. Just as I was drowning in hopelessness, Cameron Mitchell—the hospital director and my childhood friend—pushed open the operating room doors and handed me a marriage proposal. "Marry me, and I'll personally perform your mother's surgery." With trembling hands, I signed my name, clinging to the last shred of hope that she could be saved. But she never made it through that stormy night. Cameron handled all the funeral arrangements himself, and our wedding proceeded as scheduled. Seven years later, in the hushed silence of the hospital archives, I overheard Cameron speaking with the deputy director. "Cameron, why did you transfer your mother-in-law's organ to Lucy's mother during that surgery? Weren't you afraid of getting caught?" "I owed Lucy," he replied. "If I hadn't hesitated back then, Lucy never would've chosen medical aid work in Africa… and her mother wouldn't have fallen ill from the grief."

My mother had been hospitalized. My boyfriend worked as a doctor at the same hospital. You would think he would have visited her often, but he never did. Not once. On the first day of her stay, he did not come because he had taken a day off. His childhood friend was moving, and she needed his help. On the second day, that same childhood friend appeared at the hospital as an intern. He followed her everywhere and showed her the ropes. He handled anything she asked for, no matter how small. It went on like that, day after day. My mother's ward was on the thirteenth floor. His office was on the seventeenth. All it would have taken was a ten-second elevator ride or a two-minute walk down the stairs. Even so, Sebastian did not visit her for more than twenty days. My mother recovered. I picked her up by myself and took her to the train station. While I was on the way, he texted me. Sebastian: [Suzy's pet dog is getting vaccinated today. I need to drive her there first.] This time, I replied. [Got it. Drive safely. By the way, we're over.]

Seven years ago, I signed a mate contract as Luna. For my mother’s dying wish and for the Pack’s stability, I personally pushed a man with nothing to his name onto the Alpha throne. I held the Pack together for him, expanded our businesses, and handled the filthy negotiations and the deals no one wanted to see in the light. Everyone said— I was calm, I was formidable, I was qualified. Just… not much like a “gentle mate.” Until that day. I stood in the bedroom and watched my Alpha husband lay his hand over my paralyzed stepsister’s slightly rounded belly. They told me it was for the greater good of the Pack. That child would be registered under my name. He would call me Mother. I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. I just waited for the seven-year term to hit its end and activated the trust clause my mother left behind. Accounts frozen. Capital withdrawn. The wolf empire I built with my own hands collapsed overnight. By the time he knelt in the ruins and finally understood what he’d lost— I had already taken back my mother’s last name, dissolved the mate bond, and stepped onto a new territory.