I Kissed My Tutor

At the age when I should have been attending university, I was framed by my biological parents and sent to prison. My sister had been cruelly killed by her kidnappers when she tried to save me, and they blamed me for her death. On the day of my release, I was kidnapped and had one of my ears cut off. When I found the opportunity, I immediately called my father, asking him to save me. Instead, he snapped, saying, “You’re no longer my son! Don’t contact me!” I was then burned alive. After I died, my sister returned. However, when my parents found out that the charred corpse was mine, the family crumbled.

After three years of pretending to be dead on livestreams, I finally earned enough money to treat my daughter. I was about to go home and tell my wife and daughter when I overheard a call between the platform administrator and my wife. The administrator said humbly, “Chairman Morgan, Mr. Wells’s livestreams have generated tens of millions in revenue over these years. “The company withheld ninety-five percent of it. Should we keep withholding more?” Stacy fell silent for a moment before answering, “No need. Three years of testing him is enough. He barely moves year-round. He even developed muscle atrophy and didn’t tell me.” John’s voice came through the phone next. He said, “Stacy, Sam can even pretend to be dead, so what if this is an act too? “Besides, Emma’s already used to Sam being gone, so she probably won’t accept having a dad again anytime soon.” After some hesitation, my wife said indifferently, “If that’s the case, then withhold it for another six months.” I smiled and tossed the diagnosis report confirming amyotrophic lateral sclerosis into the trash. There was no need for them to test me anymore. I no longer needed to pretend.

My world shattered when I discovered my husband Ryan's infidelity with my best friend. The pain and betrayal I felt were suffocating. Our five-year marriage, once a fairy tale, had been a facade. Behind closed doors, Ryan's charming smile hid a web of deceit and infidelity. I was blindsided, left to pick up the pieces of my broken heart. That's when Ethan, Ryan's billionaire brother, entered my life. His piercing eyes and charming smile made me feel safe, like I could trust him with my deepest secrets. Ethan was everything Ryan wasn't - honest, loyal, and true.

When my best friend and I went for prenatal checkups, we both found out we were carrying babies with the super-male gene. The doctor advised us to terminate the pregnancies. I immediately went through with it, but my best friend was hesitant. I kindly advised her, "This child will ruin your life someday." She reluctantly agreed. Later, her husband cheated on her and tried to justify it. "If you can't give me a son, why shouldn't someone else?" Her husband's mistress chimed in, "What's the point of a woman who can't bear sons?" As a result, she blamed everything on me. When I wasn't paying attention, she poisoned my water and watched me die. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of our prenatal checkup.

At 22, as the Santoro heiress, I'm choosing a husband out of the three Guerra brothers to honor the marriage pact between our families. I pass on Aurelio Guerra and choose the eldest brother, Cesare Guerra, the one with the burn scar on his face, leaving everyone in the Mafia reeling. Everyone knows I put aside my pride as a perfumer for Aurelio and shrank myself until I barely exist. For him, I even leaned on the Santoros' muscle to build his power base. In my last life, I married him, just like I'd always wanted. With the Santoros behind him, he became the youngest Don in the Mafia. After he was established, he hooked up with my stepsister, Maeve Santoro. Together, they stole the new perfume I created, "Reverie", locked me in the lab, and set the place ablaze, reducing me to ash. Now that I've been reborn, I decide to drag those two cheaters to hell myself. But then Aurelio comes back too, carrying the memories of our last life.

Ever since I was little, I knew my future mate would be one of two Alpha candidates: Mitchell or Jax. Even with all their Alpha pride, I never once doubted that set future. The pack elders always said it was natural for Alpha candidates to focus on getting stronger and controlling the pack. My mother, Lyra, even told me that every brutal fight they got into was so the winner could give me, their Luna, the ultimate honor. That is, until I and Elara – this Omega stray they'd taken in – got ambushed and captured by our old enemies, the Nightshade pack. Mitchell and Jax only had enough of the life-saving Moonpetal herb for one of us. And they both chose to give it to Elara. To save myself in that fire, I forced a shift. The power surge was too much. The heat twisted my cheekbone, and just like that, I was disfigured. After they dragged me out – like an afterthought – I watched those two future Alphas crying over Elara, who didn't have a scratch on her. "Thank the Moon Goddess, Elara, you're alive." "Once we sort out who's the new Alpha of Blackwood, whoever it is will give you the most honored spot right under the Luna, Elara. Don't you worry. We'll give you the best of everything our pack has, make sure you never suffer again." "Elara, you're the real Luna in our hearts." When I came to, I cut off that ridiculous mate bond for good. Empty promises and a trampled destiny? I was done with it. But after I left, they stayed by my cave every day, begging me to come back.

Three days before our wedding, my fiancé, Raphael Russo, was killed in a gang shootout. They didn't even find a body. As I was drowning in grief, comments suddenly flashed before my eyes: 【Wake up, girl! the coffin's empty! He faked his death! The scumbag ran off to be with that scheming bitch chloe, the one pretending to be sick!】 【While you're crying your eyes out at the funeral, Raphael is fucking Chloe’s brains out in a hotel bed.】 【When he comes back, he'll claim he has amnesia. You won't know a thing and you'll forgive him. You poor thing…】 A month later, news of my marriage to Mafia Don Marcello Falcone spread through New York. Raphael’s right-hand man cornered me, furious. “How could you betray the Boss?” I tightened my grip on Marcello’s arm and smiled. “A girl can’t mourn forever, can she? I’m sure Raphael, in spirit, would be happy for me.”

Evelyn — They said the mate bond was sacred. That he'd protect me. Cherish me. Stay. But while I was screaming in a hospital bed, bringing his child into the world— he was in hers. Now I carry more than his baby. I carry the truth no one wants to say out loud. And I’m done pretending I wasn’t the one left bleeding.

One week after my death, my husband, Christopher Ford, was making love on our bed with his one true love. His face showed pure satisfaction. "Finally, I don’t have to deal with that bar hostess anymore." Later, he held my belongings, weeping with regret. "Phoebe, why haven’t you come back?" It seemed he had forgotten that he had already pushed me to my death that night. I was forced to donate my bone marrow to his one true love, and I died, along with our unborn child.

On the day the real heiress was welcomed home, my fiancé was already sleeping with her. Staring at the blue pills and torn lingerie scattered on the floor, I told them to get the hell out of my wedding house. But a second later, my father stormed in and slapped me hard across the face. "Who are you to tell her to leave? Bella is our real daughter!" "Elena, you’re just an outsider we took in by mistake. You’re the one who needs to get out." Marco wrapped his arm around Bella, his tone impatient: "Elena, I’m the heir to the Moretti family. I can’t marry a mongrel with impure blood like you. If you don't want to bring shame to the family, be smart and go tell the Don the wedding is off tomorrow." Bella gave a coy smile and tossed a stack of cash at my feet like she was giving alms: "Sister, I know Marco and I hurt you, but we’re true love." "Take this as your severance package. Take the money and get lost." I suppressed my rage and stepped forward to throw these disgusting people out, but Marco shoved me violently. "I told you, I’m not marrying you! Keep pestering us, and don't blame me for getting rough!" My stomach slammed against the table. I laughed out of pure anger. Who said I wanted to marry him? The one I’m going to marry is his father—the Don of the Moretti family, Lorenzo.