Jake Paul Died

It's been five years since I started trying to win over Zachary Pierce. I even went so far as to have a child through IVF, hoping it would finally make him care. But no matter what I do, I can never reach 100 percent affection from him. It always stays at 99 percent. Sometimes it even drops lower. One day, exhausted and aching, I go looking for him. As I reach his room, I hear laughter coming from inside. "She still hasn't figured out the egg wasn't even hers. The moment the baby was born, Zach's affection score for her dropped to zero." "So what if she finds out? She should be grateful that her face looks so much like Yvonne's. Honestly, I'm done entertaining her. It's exhausting." At that moment, everything clicks. All the hope I've held onto, every sacrifice I've made, they were all just a joke. I turn away and say to the system, "End this for me. Send me to another world."

When I was four months pregnant, my fiance, who was a doctor, left me hanging when we were supposed to get married. This was not the first time; this was the sixteenth time. The first time, his nurse fainted at the sight of blood during an operation, and I waited for him for an entire day at the city hall. The second time, his nurse called, and he left me behind on a viaduct to buy daily necessities for her. Whenever we were about to get married, his nurse would call him for all sorts of problems. The final time was when he told me he was sick. Despite the rain, I rushed to the hospital, only to find that it was his nurse who was sick. He stayed by her side to care for her while he lied to me without batting an eye. At that moment, I began to hate him. I aborted our baby and left. But he chased after me and even traveled out of the country just to apologize.

When my husband accompanies his childhood sweetheart to the vet to treat her pet fish, my son accidentally spills his drink on her. My husband watches as his childhood sweetheart's eyes redden. Then, he slaps my son hard and throws a stack of cash at him. "This is your chance to make up for your mistakes. Buy Wendy a dress—make sure it's white!" My son dries his tears while holding onto the money. He roams the streets, searching for a white dress in the middle of the night. When he finally finds one, he ends up getting beaten to death by some drunk hooligans. Even in death, he clutches the bloodied skirt tightly. I burst into tears of despair as I hold onto his body and call my husband over a dozen times. However, he's too busy with his childhood sweetheart's fish. He blocks my number. When he finally calls me back, he sounds icy and angry. "Wendy is still waiting for that dress! Where has the little brat gone to? Can't he even handle such a simple task?"

The daughter of my father's first love suffered from heatstroke because she was left in the car, so he tied me up in a fit of anger and locked me in the car boot. He looked at me with utter disgust and said, "I don't have a vicious daughter like you. Stay here and reflect on yourself." I begged him, apologized to him, and pleaded for him to let me out, but all I got in return was his ruthless order. "Unless she dies, no one is allowed to let her out." The car was parked in the garage. No one could hear me no matter how much I screamed for help. Seven days later, he finally remembered me and decided to let me out. However, he had no idea that I had already died in that trunk and could never wake up again.

“I never wanted you or our daughter.” For five years, I pretended to be in a happy marriage with Andrew Morgan. I left my career to be with this billionaire bachelor to raise a family with him. A family that he never wanted. Of course, I should have known that his heart is still with Eleanor Walsh. Why else would he come chasing after her after she abandoned him for years? I was blind with love, and now my daughter and I are paying the price. “I need you here with me now,” I said. “Our daughter is in danger.” “Eleanor and Lottie need me more!” Andrew snapped. I begged. I cried. None of that mattered to Andrew. Even then, I had hope. I had love. But all of that changed when I found myself alone, with my dead daughter in my arms. “You can spend all your time with Eleanor and Lottie,” I spat at him. “We’re going to be divorced soon!” Andrew caught me by the wrist and stopped me. “You’re not going anywhere. Who said I agreed to the divorce?”

A week before my death, my Alpha mate's childhood sweetheart Sarah returned to our pack. That night, he didn't come home. The next day, I received his mind-link. "I've purchased a mate-bond severing potion from the pack witch. Come home now so we can break our bond." In our pack, the Moon Goddess was very serious about mate bonds. Once two wolves chose to form a mate, the mate bond could not be severed, unless the witch's potion was used. This potion was very expensive, costing up to $500,000 per bottle. I smiled bitterly. He was very generous to sever the bond with me. I coughed twice before answering, "I'm in the healing center." His voice turned ice cold. "I don't care where you are. Even if you're about to die, you need to come back." I calmly replied, "Fine." He didn't know that I really was dying. Three years ago, during a rogue wolf attack, I blocked the silver dagger for him to protect him while he was unconscious. I was poisoned by silver and became weaker and weaker over the past three years. I only had one week left to live. On the day of my funeral, my mate was busy holding his marking ceremony with Sarah. Later, he knelt before my grave in pristine white ceremonial clothes, clutching my headstone and whispering through tears. "If there's another life after this one, I still want to marry you." That day was his marking ceremony with his childhood sweetheart. It was also my funeral.

Five years after my death, my daughter, Emma, dialed Xander Green’s number. She cautiously asked, "Do you like my mom?" She was trying to get an answer to the question I once wrote in my diary. "Xander, do you like me?" Unexpectedly, the voice on the other end sneered, "Did your mom put you up to this? Using her own daughter like a pawn? What an unfaithful woman! She’s already with your dad, yet still trying to rekindle things with me?"

Because I was a cheapskate, I rented a cheap apartment. The catch? Someone had died in it. The soundproofing of the house was bad, and I could hear my neighbor’s wife moaning every night. But my other neighbor told me that there was no one living in the apartment next to mine.

It had been ten years, and Ethan—my mate—and I still didn’t have a pup. One day, he suggested we adopt one from the Werewolf Orphan Charity Agency. “My mate,” he said gently, “pregnancy is too hard for you. You’d have to go through so many checkups and herbs. Your wolf shouldn’t have to suffer like that.” When others heard this, they all said Ethan loved me deeply—that he couldn’t bear to see me in pain. But I saw the truth with my own eyes. He took an infant pup from another she-wolf. “Luckily, Mia isn’t pregnant,” he said. “That way, the excuse of adopting an infant works—and the pup can have a legitimate status in my clan.” I knew that she-wolf well. The same one Ethan used to call a “stupid omega.” Swallowing the bitterness in my heart, I called my mentor at the Werewolf Research Academy. “I want to devote myself to herb research,” I said calmly. Three days from now, during the pup’s first New Moon blessing, I’ll fake my death in a fire. No one will be able to stop me.

My husband's first love jumped to her death due to depression and landed right on me as I was passing by. I was rendered unconscious on the spot and subsequently rushed to the ICU. However, my orthopedic surgeon husband stayed by his first love's side to comfort her over her minor scratches. He even refused to sign my Critical Care Notification. "Whoever joined her charade can get lost along with her! Come to me when she's really dead!" he said. It wasn't until he received a death certificate that he realized in horror—the deceased's information was identical to mine.