Novel & Cerita Invincible Family Tree

After my husband's death, I long for him so much that it becomes a mental condition. To put me out of my misery, my in-laws order a custom-made robot to be my companion. But I'm only more sorrowed when I see the robot's face—it's exactly like my late husband's. Everything changes when I accidentally unlock the robot's hidden functions. Late at night, 008 kneels before my bed and asks, "Do you need my third form of service, my mistress?"

The silver blade sliced across my throat, and I collapsed in a spreading pool of blood. I called Ethan ninety-nine times. My brother ignored every single call, but on the ninety-ninth try, he finally picked up. “What now?” Irritation dripped from every word. “Haven’t you caused enough trouble already? I’m in the middle of planning Lyra’s coming-of-age ceremony, and if you don’t show up, I’ll make you regret it.” “Ethan, please—help me—” My voice came out broken and ragged. He hung up. I tried reaching through our blood bond, desperate for him to feel something—anything at all—but he’d severed that connection two years ago. My phone battery was dying, and I watched the last bar flicker before the screen went black. I stopped struggling. The silver blade pierced my heart, and my wolf let out one final whimper before she died with me. Days later, the patrol found a body. The face was destroyed beyond recognition, torn apart and mangled. But Ethan still recognized the scar on the wrist—the one he’d sworn he would never forget.By then, it was too late.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

When Callum abandoned me, feverish and shivering on a mountain road, just to watch a meteor shower with the young woman he had raised, I decided to divorce him. His good friend, Emmet, advised him to try winning me back. "Look Cal, sisters are sisters, but a wife takes priority. You’d better not mix up what matters most." Callum, however, dismissed the idea with a confident smile. "She’s bluffing. Does she really think she’ll go through with the divorce?" "All these years, I’ve given her a place to belong. Without me, she wouldn’t even have a home. Leave me? She wouldn’t dare.  "Just wait. Before the cooling-off period ends, she’ll come back crying and begging me to take her in."  But thirty days passed, and I never looked back. While he scoured the world searching for me, I sipped tea in a misty mountain villa, utterly at peace. "James," I remarked to my step-brother, "your place truly feels like home."

My name is Wendy. I am thirty years old, married, and I used to believe my life with Mark was steady and safe.

He was so stubborn, adamant not to marry the girl he had never encountered with. She was left alone standing at the altar, humiliated. Her betrothed left her alone on their wedding day. Eight years later, they finally locked eyes. In the most stupid place and even more stupid condition. The worst part? He fell in love with her. Hard. He had to start from below zero, making up his mistakes for a girl from the past. Wouldn't stop until she accepts him anymore. But we know trouble always gets in the way. A big one. This may sound like a fight he could never win.

The day of my wedding photoshoot, my family's adoptive daughter tugs my veil off and asks loudly, "Aren't you our family's adoptive daughter? What are you doing here? Today's the day Ian and I are supposed to have our wedding photoshoot. Aren't you going to disgrace Ford Group by being here?" In the past, I would've run away in tears. Unfortunately for her, I'd been reborn. I slapped Aspen Miller and retorted, "What right do you have to speak to me? Who do you think you are, having a wedding photoshoot with Adrian? Are you worthy of being associated with Ford Group?"

The day my mom was beaten up for being a mistress, I slammed the family crest into my dad’s face. I had been studying abroad, and on my return flight, I came across a video. The title read, [Richest Family’s Heirs Defend Their Mom and Beat Up Mistress.] In the video, my mother was wearing coarse linen clothes while my brothers surrounded her. They were punching and kicking her. They even tore her clothes and cussed her out as a shameless mistress. Her eyes were teary as she desperately tried to explain. However, she was only met with mocking laughter. A stranger in haute couture stood shielded behind them, and she sweetly said, “Alright, I know you’re doing this for me, but we don’t need to waste our time on ungrateful people.” The surrounding guests showered her with birthday wishes and praised her for her graciousness. “This is the grace befitting Mrs. Roth! Do some people really not own a mirror at home?” “A mistress dares to call herself Mrs. Roth? Doesn’t she know the entire Roth family was built on her assets? Which part of her looks like a lady?” Hearing them call her “Mrs. Roth,” I clenched my phone, and the screen reflected my icy expression. I had only been away from home for three years. How did I not know that I had acquired such a despicable “mother”?

My younger sister and I were born twins, yet from the very beginning, our parents had zero fondness for me. My sister was the family's good-luck charm, while I was hailed as the harbinger of misfortune. I was blamed for every calamity, while she got all the credit for every blessing. Even after my death, I heard them say, "If we had abandoned her at birth, or even ended her life then, none of this would have happened." I had once tried desperately to win their approval, only to be met with cold indifference. When I finally secured a coveted civil service post, they celebrated me for the first time in my life. I naively believed that I had been acknowledged at last. But then, they said, "Give your job to your sister. She needs it more." At that moment, something inside me completely died. I tried so hard to cling to the hard-won proof that I was not the family's misfortune, yet even that slipped through my grasp. In the end, I lost everything, even the life they had never once cherished.

My adopted sister, Rebecca Lawson, steals the gift I painstakingly prepared for the Don and presents it at a family gathering. Everyone in the room is stunned. So, my parents turned what was supposed to be my engagement party into a celebration banquet for Rebecca. They sit together and raise their champagne glasses to toast her, while I collapse alone in the bathroom, hitting my head and bleeding out. After regaining some consciousness, I use all my strength to call them for help, but only the mafia's consigliere and my fiance—Yves Gilbert—answers my calls. "Tessa, why didn't you come to Rebecca's celebration? She felt hurt by your absence! I know you've always been jealous that she could easily gain everyone's affection, but it's what she deserves. "Quickly come over and apologize to Rebecca. Don't disappoint us any further." Yves hangs up the phone after saying that. I stare at the darkened phone screen with an unsightly smile. They don't know that the gift I have prepared for the Don is still a half-finished product and needs to be repaired. However, I don't have the time to tell them. Because I am about to die of illness.

The Lycan King's summons reached all fifty-six packs across the Northern Territories — he was choosing a Luna for his heir. The heir's reputation for brutality preceded him. So my mother swapped my sister Freya's name for mine. Her voice left no room for argument. "Elsa, your sister's wolf spirit hasn't fully awakened yet. She can't survive the journey. Go in her place — enter the Luna Trials for her." She gripped my hand, tears sliding down her cheeks at just the right moment. "When it's over, your brother will come for you. I swear it on the Moon Goddess." In my past life, I believed that oath. I traveled to the Lycan King's fortress, only to be singled out by the heir himself. I barely escaped his stronghold alive, fleeing through blizzards for seven days and nights before I finally lost my pursuers. After two years as a rogue, I made it back to the Frostfang Pack — just in time to witness Freya's Marking Ceremony with the Alpha. My mother stood at the center of the celebration and looked straight through me. "Rogue. There is no place for you here." Cast out a second time, I lost all hope. I died in a blizzard, alone. When consciousness returned, I found myself standing in the stone hall again. She wore the same expression, watching me with those calculating eyes. "Elsa, would you take Freya's place in the Luna Trials?"