Happiness Is Only Real When Shared

Back then, Alice was framed by her stepsister and had a one-night stand with a strange man. When they met again three years later, she was a single mother and a urologist, and he was David, a billionaire with sexual dysfunction who couldn’t get an erection. She said, “Go lie on the treatment bed and take off your pants, including your underwear.” He stood up, unbuttoned his Tom Ford suit, and casually threw it on a chair. Then, he walked to the bedside with those long legs that would go on a runway, and slowly undid his belt, each movement carrying a kind of silent threat. “If you can‘t cure me, be prepared to be completely blackballed in the American medical circle. Don‘t even think about holding a scalpel in California for the rest of your life.” When she examined him, the change under him was astonishingly fast, like a sudden Flash fire, burning away the wasteland he had maintained for three years. His breathing instantly became heavy, and the bottom of his eyes was stained with a scarlet mixture of shock and madness. “Who the hell are you?” His voice was incredibly hoarse.

Adeline has been in love with Blake Rhodes for as long as she could remember-twelve years of silent yearning turned into three loveless years of marriage. She has always wanted him to return her love. However, Blake's heart is clouded by manipulation and misunderstandings, with the shadows cast by Adeline's half-sister Rebecca. Unknown to Blake, it is not Rebecca who is dying but Adeline. Adeline has stage four cancer, a secret she holds tightly, even as Blake is forcing her to give her blood-and a kidney-to save Rebecca. So, while Rebecca is faking being ill for Blake, Adeline keeps the pain to herself and silently suffers by sacrificing all her possessions for the man who doesn't perceive her value.

The day Ken Bowen and I finalized the divorce, I walked out wearing only the outfit I had worn on our wedding day. I let Ken keep the house, the cars, the money, and the kids. He looked genuinely surprised, then let out a mocking laugh. "Are you sure about this? You raised the girls yourself, and you're just giving them up? If you really don't want anything, then you won't need to pay child support either. That's fair, right?" I signed the papers without hesitation and said calmly, "Yeah. That's fair." Ken paused, then slowly signed his name. "If you regret this later, you…" I lifted a hand and cut him off. I didn't look back as I walked out. Ken used to say I married him for money and status, that I used our three daughters to tie him down. Whatever. The day he saw my dead body, he would finally understand.

He had once sworn I was his fated Luna, the Omega he cherished above all. However, just a month shy of our bonding, he decided to repay a life-saving grace by fathering a child with his old flame. To add insult to injury, he swiped the herbal research I was on the cusp of unveiling. He claimed he was trapped, obligated to both sides. I, however, was done with him. I cut ties, called off our Bonding Ceremony, and set off for the Northwood tundra to lose myself in my research. Two years on, he pleaded for my return, professing I was his one true love. However, by then, I was renowned far and wide, and he was nothing to me.

The contractions were ripping me in two. My vision was going dark. My husband, Don Vittorio, the man who ruled Chicago, squeezed my hand. His dark eyes burned with love. "Just a little longer, mia cara. You'll meet our baby soon." Sweat poured down my face. I still found the strength to smile for him. Then a nurse walked in. She held a syringe. I thought it was to stop the pain. But Vittorio’s hand fell away. He took a single step back. The needle sank into my arm. I heard Vittorio’s voice. It was cold steel. "Dose her carefully. She holds on until midnight. Not a minute sooner. Not until after Ornella delivers." And then I knew. He thought I married him for the money. He was stopping my labor. All for a sick Falcone family rule: the first son born is the next heir. Pain tore through me. I reached for him. Tears streamed down my face. I begged him to stop. He bit his lip. His voice was pure ice. "My brother is dead. Ornella carries his only heir. You will do as you are told. You and your child will not steal his birthright." The drug hit my veins. The violent squeeze in my belly, like some invisible hand, just… stopped.

In the second year of my marriage to Jeffery Sadler, he brought a young woman home. When his eyes met mine, Jeffery smiled carelessly and said, "Naomi, perhaps you should try it too." He added, "After all, young and energetic people are truly different." I knew he was only testing me; he had always enjoyed tormenting and toying with me. But what he didn't know was that this time, I was genuinely tempted. Later, as he stared at the fresh scratch marks on the "young person's" waist and abdomen, his eyes blazed red with anger. "Naomi Sloan," he growled, “Who gave you the audacity to actually take this seriously?”

I died on the day I was supposed to receive the Pack’s Distinguished Service Award. Three hours after I died, my parents, my brother, and my mate were just wrapping up the graduation party they’d thrown for my sister. While my sister, Ella, was posting a cozy family photo on Instagram, I was locked in our basement, using my tongue to swipe on my phone and call for help. The only person who answered was my mate, Ryan. All he said was, "Sophie, cut the drama. Ella's graduation party is important. Enough with the tantrums!" This was the ninety-ninth time they had let me down. And the last. I lay in a pool of my own blood, my lungs still. They thought I was just throwing a fit, hiding somewhere. That if they taught me a lesson, I’d come crawling back. But they didn't know. I was home the whole time. I was already dead.

“Ms. Arnold, you really should sign this divorce agreement. Otherwise, I won’t be able to answer to Mr. Fisher.” Jeremy Fisher’s personal lawyer, Cole Stewart, stood in front of Hailey Arnold with an anxious expression. In his hands were a freshly printed divorce agreement, the pages still crisp. This was the thirty-third time Jeremy had asked to divorce her. The first time, Hailey climbed onto the rooftop and jumped. She survived but broke one of her legs. The second time, she slashed her wrist with a small knife, and blood flooded half the bathroom. The third time, she swallowed an entire bottle of sleeping pills and spent three days in the hospital having her stomach pumped. … Every single time, she had used death to force Jeremy to compromise, but this time, she was tired of it.

"At a time when I needed you most, you ended our relationship. You claimed that I wasn't the one you loved, called me a whore, and said that I wasn't your type from the start. So what do you expect me to do?" "Beg!" Michael responded immediately. "I anticipate that you will plead for mercy." "You don't deserve my plea, Michael. You're not worth my tears..." She was about to say more when Michael forcefully kissed her, making it difficult for her to breathe. "Is that why you sold yourself to Kelvin?" He inquired after releasing her lips. Nora wiped her lips with her knotted hands. She looked at him fearlessly and replied, "Who I sell myself to is none of your concern. As the whore you called me, you shouldn't be keeping track of how many men I sleep with." Her response enraged Michael, and he pushed her and raped her, only to discover that she was still a virgin. If he begs for a second chance, will Nora ever forgive him?

Mae Cooper accuses me of forcing wolfsbane down her throat, claiming that she can't breathe and that her wolf is gravely injured, barely clinging to life. My mate, Alpha Cole Grimaldi, and our two pups decide to teach me a lesson by locking my Omega sister up in a massive silver cage and threatening to douse her with wolfsbane. I thrash violently and beg them to let her go, but nothing I do changes their minds. Alas, my sister dies, and with her, the love I once felt for them dies too.