I Forgot My Iphone Passcode

When my wife, Katherine Johnson, and her childhood sweetheart, Zack Wilson, were on an overseas vacation, they somehow went missing. All they left for me was a newborn baby born of their affair. 20 years later, I make a post about my son, Wade, passing the exam and joining the police force. Unexpectedly, Katherine and Zack return to the country and decide to sue me. At the prosecutor's stand, Zack sports a slicked-back hairstyle and can be seen wearing a smart-looking suit. The things he says, however, are very rude. "Many years ago, Katherine and I got married after she got a divorce. She then gave birth to a son for me. Harry, who was jealous of our happiness, stole Wade from us! "We've been looking for Wade over the past 20 years, and yet Harry refuses to return him to us! As Wade's biological parents, we have the right to demand him back!" Katherine glares at me angrily as well. "Harry, did you steal Wade simply because you're infertile?" The court hearing is streamed live on various platforms. The viewers are enraged, to say the least. They begin bashing me in the comment section. "To think that he actually stole someone else's kid just because he doesn't have any kids of his own!" "He's the reason that kid was separated from his actual family! What a disgusting, vile man! He must return the custody to the kid's biological parents!" But when Wade does get summoned to the court, everyone is left shell-shocked.

When I was discharged from the psychiatric hospital, my brother and sister-in-law dropped everything to personally pick me up. Even my nephew, who had just finished his college entrance exams, arrived with a box of carrot cake he had waited in line all day to buy. His warm smile was the picture of innocence. “Auntie, congratulations on your discharge. With me here, you’ll never feel lonely again.” To outsiders, we were the perfect family—envied by all and even awarded the title of a local model family. But behind the facade of family bliss lay a very different story. On the very day my brother transferred the last of the family properties to me, I went live on social media. In front of an audience that idolized my so-called perfect family, I boasted about my "accomplishments." I conned my nephew into paying for a spot at an elite school, duped my sister-in-law into stepping into a scandalous club, and tricked my brother into losing everything he had worked for. “My brother has treated me with nothing but kindness. And I can only repay his kindness with betrayal.”

On my twentieth birthday, my father asked me to draw from a box of straws. It was to pick a husband between William Smith and Austin Smith to inherit North Town. The short straw represented Austin, while the long straw represented William. No matter how hard I tried, I could not get the long straw. However, I was certain that I did not want to marry Austin. I drew straws for three years, but it was to no avail. I had no choice but to tamper with the straws to marry William as I wished. However, ten years into our marriage, he was no longer gentle and kind. He had turned into a really cold person. He neither returned home nor touched me. Even when I threatened him with a knife, he refused to talk to me. Despite feeling hurt, I was unwilling to let him go. That was until I watched him kick away the only medicine I had for my asthma while I was writhing on the floor. “I was the one who switched out the straws. There was no long straw, yet you forced me to marry you. Mandy died from a broken heart, so you should pay with your life.” When I opened my eyes again, I was holding a short straw. I calmly said, “Since it’s the short one, I choose Austin.”

Everyone in the pack knew that my mate Damien loved me fiercely. After our mating ceremony, Damien gave me three bonding gifts. The first was a protective amulet he'd prayed three days and three nights for at the Moon Goddess shrine. The second was a sculpture he spent months carving with his own hands. The third was a diamond ring — the symbol of the Luna — priceless, and with it came the authority to govern the pack. On my birthday, he went searching for a moonstone and was ambushed by rogue wolves. He fell off a cliff. When he woke, his memory was gone. A bar hostess had rescued him. They fell in love. But the day before their mating ceremony, his memories returned, and he came back to me without hesitation. Just when I thought he'd ended things with her, on the very day I found out I was pregnant, I received a video — an intimate recording of the two of them together. Vivian was already carrying his child, nestled against Damien like a helpless little bird. "You're carrying my child. I won't abandon you. As for Elena — a few sweet words and she'll do whatever I say." I turned off my phone and sent a mind-link to my father. "Dad. The arranged mating you set up for me — I accept."

WARNING: 18+ readers only. RAE: Alpha Jason Kane is my mate but he doesn’t love me. His nonchalance pushed me into the arms of another man, and then I realized he was his estranged son. But that’s not all. At work, I signed a contract to document the life of a star hockey player, whom I have to live with and work closely with for the next six months. I just had no idea my mate’s estranged son was the same person again. It seems I can’t avoid Malachar Kane no matter what I do. We’re tied together by fate and bound by something forbidden. MALACHAR: I was cursed by the moon goddess to remain on earth to guard her moon power and destroy anyone who tries to steal it. So when I moved to LA two years ago, the plan was simple. Blend in as a hockey prodigy. Discover the newest thief. Annihilate the threat. Now Rachel Rosier was never supposed to be in the picture. I had thought she would be a random fuck on a cold Christmas night, but she wasn’t. She ruined me. I can’t stop thinking about her. I can’t even breathe without flashbacks from that night. And just when I’m about to complete my mission in this city, I find out she’s married to the Alpha I must kill. The man I call father. Rachel is not just my step mom now. She’s bound to my enemy, and so, I must take her life, too. But I want her like crazy. I shouldn’t. It’s a sin. She’s forbidden on so many grounds, but if I can’t have her, no one will.

I was diagnosed with cancer. After much deliberation, I called my husband. He fell silent for a long while. “Most of our mortgage is unpaid, and our children need money for school. You should go for conservative treatment.” I called my mother while weeping. “You’re so troublesome. None of my friends or family have cancer!” I stopped crying and started living for myself. God favored me and let me see reality early in my life. He even gave me a chance to start over.

When I was fourteen, my brother—the Don—brought home an orphan girl to settle a debt of gratitude. From then on, my life within the Corleone family always took a backseat to hers. The girl framed me, claiming I was trying to poison her. My brother slapped me across the face and locked me in the attic. To make it up to her, he even gave her the position that was meant for me. This time, I didn't say a word. I just packed my bags and left. It took a few days for him to realize I hadn't returned to the family estate. Only then did he find out that I’d joined an international medical aid organization—and that I was never coming back to New York. After that, he completely broke down.

The tenth time one of my paintings appeared under my sister Rose's name, I handed Adrian the divorce papers. He raised an eyebrow and tossed the agreement aside without a second glance. "Don't be dramatic. Your hand is ruined -- where would you even go without me?" I said nothing. He smiled, his tone dripping with casual indifference. "You should be grateful. Rose was the one I was supposed to marry. A few paintings is a small price to pay. A little gratitude wouldn't kill you." He blew a ring of cigarette smoke directly into my face. I choked, and the sting brought tears to my eyes. Through the blur, I was transported back to the moment my tendons were severed for his sake -- a pain that had drilled straight to the bone. He thought I had no choice but to take it. What he didn't know was that I'd already accepted an offer from the Royal Academy of Arts in London. Soon, I would be free of him for good.

During a battle with a rival pack, my Alpha mate, Damien, burst into my private healing sanctuary. He was carrying Lyra, a Beta warrior who had supposedly taken a poisoned blade for him. The next day, under the watchful eye of the Moon Goddess, Damien was forced by the pack elders to apologize. He explained that bringing an outsider into my sanctuary was a desperate act in a moment of crisis. After all, Lyra had saved his life. But that night, in the bed we once shared, Lyra stabbed herself with a dagger laced with wolfsbane and framed me for the attack. He chose to believe her. The rejection ceremony ripped my wolf from my soul. I was cast out—a powerless exile, left for dead in a storm, to be torn to shreds by rogues. But what Damien never knew was that the ancient curse afflicting him could only be healed by me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the beginning: the moment Damien carried that woman in, demanding I save her.

Rogues suddenly attacked the werewolf hospital. My husband, the captain of the rescue team, rushed over. Everyone thought he had come to protect me. But he rushed straight to his teammate Ayla, completely oblivious to the rogue behind him raising a dagger. Without thinking, I lunged forward and pushed him out of the way. But to my surprise, he grabbed me and held me in front of his childhood friend. The dagger pierced my abdomen, killing our pup. When my colleagues tried to save me, my mate, Paolo Greco, pulled them away. “Save Ayla first! If anything happens to her, I’ll sue your hospital in the werewolf court!” My colleagues looked at him in shock. “But your mate is bleeding heavily! She can’t even stand up now! Ayla only has a cut on her arm; her condition isn’t critical.” I clutched my bleeding abdomen. Heartbroken, I told my colleagues to save her first. “Forget it. Save her first.” Paolo, you saved my life once. I am returning the favor. From that moment, we owe each other nothing. We should never meet again.