I Ready Characters

While on a business trip, I stumbled into my brother-in-law, Julian Zeller, mid-act with a male colleague in a hotel parking lot. Furious, I blew the lid off his fake marriage and helped my sister, Yvonne Sutton, escape that scumbag. But after the divorce, she lost his financial support. She spiraled, blaming me for destroying her perfect marriage. She even killed me for trying to stop her from going back to him. Then, everything resets. I wake up, and there he is—slipping into the car while hugging the same man. I pocket my phone. This time, I won't ruin Yvonne's happy ending.

While they slice me apart, I desperately call my brother, Nathan Slade. He finally picks up as my consciousness starts to slip and answers in an annoyed voice, "What now?" "Nathan, help—" I don't get to finish before he cuts me off. "Can't you ever go a day without drama? Gemma's graduation is at the end of the month. Miss it, and I swear I'll kill you!" Then, he hangs up without a second thought. The agonizing pain swallows me whole, and my eyes close for good, tears still trailing down my cheeks. Well, good news, Nathan… You won't have to kill me because I'm already dead.

The night of my first shift at eighteen, my two older brothers brought home a twelve-year-old orphaned Omega. My alpha brother seized the rare healing herb I'd spent all my savings on—herbs meant to ease my first transformation—and gave them to her instead. "You're strong enough," he growled. "You don't need such precious herbs." My beta brother snarled with fury, pointing toward the door. "Get out! Don't come back!" I said nothing more, just grabbed my packed bag and left. They assumed I was merely throwing a tantrum, that I'd return in a few days. My brothers, finally free of my presence, took the orphan girl on an international vacation to the Caribbean islands I'd always dreamed of visiting. Many days later, when they returned to the pack, they were shocked to discover I'd accepted an offer from the neighboring pack's Head Healer. The position required fifteen years of isolated herbal research. I could never return home. That night, they fell apart.

“What the f*ck…?” That was all I could say when I found myself falling for the very same man who was pulling me into the dark.

I was anonymously reported for fraudulent credit card use and arrested. The victim turned out to be my own husband. I pulled out my phone to show them our marriage certificate to prove my innocence, but the police officer frowned as he looked at me. "Ma'am, the Lucas Richardson on this certificate is not your husband. You're still unmarried." I could not believe it and asked the officer to check again immediately. He looked at me with sympathy, but quickly spoke again, "Our records show that Lucas Richardson's spouse is Vivian Clarke and that they have a three-year-old child together. Ma'am, if you cannot prove your relationship with him, you will face criminal detention." I felt like I had been struck by lightning. Six years ago, Lucas had a secretary named Vivian who was obsessively in love with him. On the day Lucas and I got married, she caused a scene and threatened suicide. In the end, he had to personally handle the situation for three days before coming home. It turned out that his solution was to marry Vivian instead.

"He was everything I swore never to get close to. He was toxic, possessive, selfish. Without me even realising it. He was older than me. It was wrong. He was wrapped in darkness and mystery. He was sinisterly hot and rich to an extent I couldn't imagine. He made sure to become everything I have. He was anything but the one for me, yet he made me his. He made me fall for him. He got under my skin, penetrated my soul, shattered my heart. And I naively obeyed his will. He made me his but he never was mine. He was the devil himself and I'll burn in hell for ever loving him."

The day I got out of prison, my girlfriend—who I hadn't seen in five years—pulled up in a Maserati to pick me up. In the passenger seat sat a guy in his early twenties, athletic build. His face looked a little too much like mine did when I was younger. Selene told me not to make a scene. Not to want things that were never mine. She said with her status now, she could have as many pretty boys as she wanted. Right now, she only had one. Apparently, he was my replacement. So I shouldn't be so narrow-minded. After all, a guy like me—fresh out of prison with a record—wasn't even in her league anymore. I stared at Selene, a little dazed. She wasn't wrong. But she seemed to have forgotten why I went to prison in the first place.

On my mother’s seventieth birthday party, I ran around handling various matters, paying out of pocket and putting in all the work. I did not even have the time to sit down and drink a sip of water. When I finally found the time to surprise her, I prepared eighty-eight grams of gold jewelry as her gift. Just as I was about to give it to her, I heard her talking to the other relatives. “See that? My daughter is truly my sweetheart. She woke up so early this morning to bake me this cake. I wouldn’t trade this cake for gold.” Our relatives immediately began praising my younger sister, Jessie Radley, for being so devoted. Only a couple of them pushed back. “Why aren’t you praising your eldest daughter, Mary? I heard she handled the entire birthday party.” “Tch. She only knows how to muddle through things. None of it had been done to my liking. Jessie is the good one. She got up at seven in the morning just to bake me this cake.” I turned around and walked away from the doorway. Since she loved Jessie so much, she could pay for this birthday party, worth eighty thousand dollars.

My boyfriend found my menstruation disgusting and forced me to undergo subdermal implantation. From then on, I no longer had periods and couldn’t conceive. One day, I had a fever reaching 40°C and couldn’t contact him. I went to the hospital alone, only to stumble upon him attending a prenatal checkup with his secretary. He told her: “Baby, don’t worry about Claire. She only listens to me here, doesn’t she?” “We can postpone the wedding for another five years. She’s loyal to me like a dog anyway.” “In the meantime, keep fulfilling your end of the arrangement I’ve promised you.” “Of course, I’ll continue loving you... until I’m tired of you.” My heart shattered. I’d proposed to him 43 times in seven years, only to fail every single time. It turned out he just hadn’t gotten bored of me yet? This time, I decided not to wait any longer. I turned my back on him and agreed to the marriage my mother arranged in the countryside. On the day my ex was supposed to accompany me to try on wedding dresses, he found an empty room and a wedding invitation I left for him to celebrate my marriage to someone else. Panic consumed him as his world fell apart...

Every April Fools' Day, my boyfriend joined his childhood friend in the same cruel prank, pretending to propose to me. Last year, I slipped the ring onto my finger, my heart full of hope. Suddenly, the mechanism snapped tight. Pain shot through my hand, and I cried out. He apologized afterward and promised that, this year, the proposal would be real. As such, I arrived carefully dressed, believing him. Instead, I was met with a face full of cake. He reached out gently, wiping the cream from my face as if it were nothing more than a harmless joke. However, this time, I took a step back. After six disappointments, I chose to walk away. So why was it that, in the end, he was the one consumed by regret?