How Many Chapters Was Wano Novels & Stories

The biggest mistake I had ever made was falling in love with my Alpha stepbrother, Cayden Gates. I was 12 when my mom remarried, and he was the only one in the new pack who treated me kindly. I fell for him at first sight. When I was 16, I was attacked by rogue wolves, and he fought off ten of them alone to protect me. At 18, he was poisoned by silver. He nearly died. That was when my wolf told me he was my fated mate. Without hesitation, I donated my bone marrow to save him. That night, watching him asleep with a pale face, I couldn't help but kiss the corner of his lips. He opened his eyes at that exact moment, his face flushing red. "Tessa, we're siblings. You shouldn't cross that line." From then on, he started avoiding me, like I was a mistake he couldn't afford to make. His fiancée, Rosie Lloyd, had been diagnosed with a rare blood disease, and I was the only compatible donor. For the first time, he pleaded with me. "If you're willing to save her, I'll agree to anything." But I was already weak from the marrow transplant. Giving blood again might kill me. I said no, and Rosie died in the end. He didn't shed a single tear, like nothing had happened. But at her funeral, he smashed the portrait I'd painted of him in front of everyone and said coldly, "How filthy of you to dream of being with your own brother." Later, I became a disgrace, a walking joke. Humiliation and despair swallowed me whole, and in a haze, I fell into the lake and drowned. When I open my eyes again, I'm back at the moment he begs me for blood. I say yes calmly. I consider it the final debt I owe the Gates family. Cayden, from now on, we're done. There are no more ties between us.

Three years of marriage, and I'd become known in our social circle as the ultimate doormat. My husband staying out all night, his silent treatment, bringing his first love home to flaunt in my face—through it all, I'd smile and make him hangover soup, keeping the house spotless. Everyone thought I loved him to the point of madness. Even he believed it. Until the day of the divorce, when he begged me with tears in his eyes not to leave—and then watched "me" collapse rigid to the floor after a power outage, revealing a charging port on the back of my neck. He lost his mind. Meanwhile, the real me was lying on a beach in the Maldives, running my fingers through the hair of a gorgeous twenty-something with a six-pack, cheerfully pressing the "factory reset" button.

Arla-Rosa gave her heart to the wrong man and paid the ultimate price, her life, and the lives of her unborn children. Betrayed by her family, ruined by love, discarded like trash, she was left to die in the cold, her trust shattered and her spirit broken. But death was not her end. It was her rebirth. Waking six months before the night of her greatest betrayal, Arla is no longer the naive, trusting girl they destroyed. This time, she sees the daggers hidden behind smiles, the poison laced in sweet words. This time, she has no intention of forgiving. No plans to surrender. No mercy to spare. Armed with the knowledge of what’s to come and a heart forged in fire, Arla-Rosa is ready to play their games... only now, she is writing the rules. And when the final reckoning comes, they will learn one brutal truth: The phoenix does not forgive. It burns.

I had a unique profession. I was a breakup specialist. I did not need to go to court or write any contracts for that. That was a lawyer’s job. Everyone kept saying that love was priceless, but a couple who professed their love to each other for an entire night could be paying me tons to break their relationship up the following day. I was shaking my head upon those matters when I received a message from my husband, Matthew Grant, asking me to pick our wedding anniversary’s destination. A few seconds after that, a beautiful woman walked into my office. She appeared timid and had to take a lot of time to summon the courage to speak. “I’d like to hire your services for my boyfriend. He has decided to divorce his wife.” I made no comment as I picked up the documents she had handed me, only to see Matthew’s name on the paper. I froze, while the woman sitting in front of me ducked her head and continued, “My boyfriend says that his wife is a good person and that he doesn’t want to hurt her.” I smiled as I stared at the picture; it clearly was Matthew, but I had the strange feeling of seeing a foreign person too. My heart throbbed, and I could only lament. This was my third year as a breakup specialist, and I was actually hired to break up my own relationship.

My mother-in-law has gotten kidnapped, and yet my husband, Josiah Broadway, decides to celebrate the success of his childhood sweetheart, Vivian Spencer's performance with her. The kidnapper has requested a ten-million-dollar ransom. If he doesn't receive the money in his bank account in an hour, he'll kill the hostage immediately. But my calls to Josiah's phone never go through. When there's only one minute left on the timer, Josiah calls me back calmly. "Since that hag is already that old, she might as well die. I'm not wasting my money on her." Just like that, my mother-in-law is thrown into the sea by the furious kidnapper. The search-and-rescue team has to resort to using long hooks in order to fish her corpse out of the sea. As soon as the body is delivered to the crematorium, Josiah sends me a voice message excitedly. "Have your mom's corpse sent to the studio! Vivian's performance needs a corpse anyway! Using a real corpse will make the whole performance seem more realistic!" I'm pissed off, to say the least. So, that bastard thinks that my mom is the one who died, huh? After that, I have my mother-in-law's corpse, which is completely disfigured from all the fishing and hooking, sent to the studio without any hesitation.

Joseph Larkin, my husband, who has been missing for seven years, suddenly comes back. Not only does he bring another woman back, but he is also asking me for a divorce. Joseph says, "Mabel risked her life to save me. That's why I have to marry her to repay her. If you know what's good for you, you'll tell everyone we're already divorced." Looking at his haughty expression, I calmly say, "But I've already married someone else." Joseph laughs disdainfully. "Who are you trying to fool? Everyone knows you only have eyes for me."

Ever since I was a child, my heart and mind have been filled with feelings for him - Magnus Zumatra, son of my father's billionaire friend. On his birthday, we were happily playing when he suddenly fell down the stairs and broke his left leg, leaving him unable to walk. The one he thought saved him and called for help to get him rescued was my sister Delara Funtasierra - my half-sister who has held a grudge against me for a long time. She became the one who seemed kind and Magnus' "savior" in everyone's eyes, while me? They pointed to me as the one who pushed the man. But no one knows that it was actually me - Terafina Funtasierra - who truly saved his life. Throughout his life, he loved Delara - that's why I left and kept my distance from them. But being hurt and slandered in front of everyone is something I cannot bear.

I was the top engineer at the National Deep-Sea Research Center, and the only person in the world with experience in deep-sea rescue. When my sister’s submarine malfunctioned and was stranded ten thousand meters below the surface, I hung up on her distress call. Then I calmly walked into a police station and turned myself in for leaking classified research. A few minutes later, my father called. His voice was frantic and furious. “Your sister is missing. Where the hell are you? I’m ordering you to get to the site immediately and save her, or you won’t see a cent of the family inheritance!” I calmly pulled the blanket over my head and said into the phone, “I don’t have time, and you’re interrupting my sleep.”

I had been married to Derek for six years, and we had a three-year-old son. He was poor, earning only $2,000 a month, but I had no complaints; I took care of everything at home for him. After getting dinner on the table for the whole family, I finally had a minute to check my phone. A video popped up on my feed: a twenty-two-year-old girl from a rural area whose hands, roughened by years of hard labor, looked like they belonged to a sixty-two-year-old woman. I looked down at my own hands, just as worn and scarred, and stared at them blankly before tapping into the comments. I expected people to feel bad for her. However, to my surprise, the comments section was flooded with a single sentiment: "Why would anyone marry a penniless loser?" One of the top-liked comments came from a couple; in their photo, they were pictured holding hands—fingers tightly intertwined—with the girl sporting a massive diamond ring. The accompanying caption read: "A man who truly loves you would never bear to let you suffer." I felt a pang of envy. Given the choice, who wouldn't want a glamorous life? As I was about to close the app, I accidentally tapped on the couple's photo, enlarging it. In the background, previously too blurry to make out, was a face I recognized. It looked exactly like my husband, Derek Sterling. I froze, and almost against my will, I tapped into the account's profile. Post after post of lavish photos of them together flooded my screen. And then I saw him clearly. The scar above his brow, the one he got when a shelf fell on him while protecting me, was still plainly visible. It was my husband. It was Derek.

They called her barren. Her husband believed it. His mother engineered it. And for four years, Bella Cole lived inside that lie — shrinking herself, surrendering her career, swallowing her grief in a marriage that was slowly erasing her. Then came the dinner party. The added chair. The pregnant maid with her hand on her stomach and victory in her eyes. And something in Bella went very, very quiet — and very, very awake. Because the math didn't add up. The diagnosis didn't make sense. And the man who couldn't keep his hands off the help? He couldn't have fathered that child if he tried. Literally. Now Bella isn't grieving. She's building. Piece by piece, witness by witness, document by document — she is assembling the truth that was stolen from her. And when it finally comes apart, it won't just cost Ethan Cole his heir. It will cost them everything. She was never the problem. She was always the answer. And she is only just beginning.