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To "fix" Leonard Rinehart's oh-so-tragic depression, Naomi Gaffron—yeah, the same girl who once swore she'd only ever marry me—secretly tied the knot with him. So I gave in. Played along with the family's little matchmaking stunt. Married Aurelia Spencer—Brieton City's golden girl who'd been obsessed with me since forever. For seven years, she clung to me like I was oxygen. Every night, curled up like she'd break if I moved. I thought that was happiness. Then one night, I caught her whispering to her best friend: "Leonard's already got international awards. When are you dumping Leone?" "Whatever—I'm stuck with someone I don't love anyway. Doesn't matter who I married. Someone's gotta keep an eye on Leone so he doesn't screw up everything Leonard built." I checked her study. Found a hidden folder—over 100,000 photos of Leonard. A hundred unsent love letters. Even I couldn't fake it anymore. Bought a silicone dummy. Laid out the plan. The fire would be step one. Dead or alive—we're done.

Introduction A year ago, I had my eyes on the winning prize in the arena - a rare red gemstone, and wanted to win it back as the mating ring with my Alpha mate Damien. Just as I was about to claim victory and take the prize, Damien's secretary Celia stepped forward to challenge me. Damien laughed helplessly. "Young girls love these shiny things. As the Luna of our pack, you should be generous and let her have them, okay?" I refused outright and defeated her. That day, Celia ran off the platform crying. I proudly showed Damien my prize. He kissed my forehead helplessly. "My stubborn little wildcat." After our mating ceremony, he claimed me night after night for a whole year, in every way imaginable, never giving me a moment's rest. But one year later, I received an invitation to a private combat arena. Videos and photos of me beneath Damien, my eyes hazy with desire, were brazenly displayed as the victor's prize. Damien had his arm around Celia's waist. "Don't you love fighting? There are over a hundred people here. I'll have them challenge you one by one. Whoever wins gets a sex tape of you and me. A whole year's worth."

Everyone in Frostmoon Pack knew that Cassian loved me. He stayed by my side through every heat cycle. On storm-heavy nights, he would shift into wolf form and coax me to sleep. Before the council of elders, he once declared: “Lyra is my only Luna.” So I had never imagined he would betray me too. The day I found out I was pregnant, I received a set of photos from his former lover. In them, Cassian was bare-chested, with fresh bite marks still visible along his neck. She sent only two lines: He does love you. But last night, he didn’t refuse me. I didn’t cry. I didn’t confront him. I only called my best friend. “Help me arrange a false death.” She was silent, then asked in a low voice, “Have you thought this through? You’re carrying a pup.” I touched my stomach. “I have.” “And contact the witch for me. I want my mate bond with Cassian severed.” Five days later, there would be a fatal wreck on the mountain road beyond the pack borders. When Cassian arrived, all he would find was the burned frame of the car and a handful of ashes that were supposed to be Lyra’s.

When I turn 20, my grandfather's old friend—now the richest man in the country—lays out photos of his grandsons in front of me. He says, "Pick one to be your husband." Without hesitation, I choose Nathaniel Chapman. Everyone in the room is stunned. After all, it's no secret I've always been hopelessly in love with George Chapman. I used to swear I'd marry no one but him. In my previous life, I got what I wanted—I married George. And because of that marriage, he inherited the lion's share of his grandfather's wealth. But after the wedding, he started an affair with my sister. My parents were furious and sent her abroad to study. George thought I was the one who exposed them. From then on, he hated me to my very core. Women came and went at his side, each one resembling my sister more than the last. The betrayal crushed me. I fell into deep depression. Later, he secretly replaced my medication with slow-acting poison. I died with a child in my womb—alone, bitter, and betrayed. Now, I've been reborn. This time, I choose to let them have each other. But what I don't expect is that George has been reborn too.

His hands gently pressed on her waist, caging her and drawing her closer. He brushed her lips softly with his parted ones. She leaned into him, surprised at how natural it felt to be held against him, the man who made her want to flee for the hills and strip naked at the same time. "Even if you were the only woman left in this world, I would never accept you as my mate." Blaze's eyes grew darker under the lighting, making Lilith squirm under his intense gaze. Lilith Venerelli is the daughter of the head warriors of the Blood Moon pack. The perfect rank, and perfect wolf, Lilith has her whole life planned, and mating with her boyfriend during the mating season would be the cherry on top. The day she turns eighteen, her world crumbles when she learns that she is no longer a warrior but a sigma, deemed the lowest of the pack. Alpha Blaze Westbrook is the future alpha of the Blood Moon pack. He always dreams of having the strongest she-wolf as his mate. His hope shatters when he finds that his mate is none other than the pack's sigma. Torn between the pack's principles and the mate pull, he is forced to disregard his mate. Will he be able to fight against the mate pull, or will he fight against his pack's principles and accept the pack's sigma as his mate?

Right after I am done with a meeting, I scroll through social media and come across a warning post with my company's location tagged. The title reads, "Avoid this place! Anyone who comes here is a sucker. The company is so stingy that it can't even provide decent snacks." The photos show the Starbucks drinks and five-star desserts I just asked my assistant to distribute to everyone. I frown and tag everyone in the group chat, asking for suggestions about the teatime snacks. A Gen Z intern, Alice Grimes, immediately sends a voice message, "No offense, Ms. Knox, but these mass-produced desserts are full of trans fats. Even dogs wouldn't eat them. A good company would hire Kitchelin chefs to cook on-site. Now that's called having true respect for employees." I laugh in disbelief. My company spends 50 dollars per person on daily tea time, which is considered top-tier in the industry. So, I reply, "Since it's hard to please everyone, we'll cancel teatime from now on and convert it into a cash allowance for everyone." Less than five minutes later, there is a new update in the social media post. "Guys, you won't believe this. I made a reasonable suggestion, and the petty boss just cut our teatime perk! This is how a typical capitalist behaves. They can't handle any honest feedback."

My five-year-old daughter loved telling lies. I had taken her out to a simple school supplies run, but she yelled on the street that I was a human trafficker. Consequently, I nearly got arrested and taken to the police station. When we went home, she cried and threw herself in my husband’s arms to complain about me before I could say anything. “Dad, Mom wouldn’t buy me stationeries. She even hit me on the street!” I offered my husband an explanation. He heard me out, but I did not expect him to angrily slap me when I was finished. “Our daughter is only five. She can’t lie. Can’t you just put up with it?!” When I drove my daughter to school, she got down on her knees in front of me while the other parents were around. “Mom, please let me go to school. I don’t want to take naked photos for those guys.” When the teacher checked my phone, it was full of my daughter’s explicit photos. A mob of angry parents pushed me into the traffic, killing me. I could not figure out why my biological daughter would behave that way, even as I lay dying. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day when I was about to buy stationery for my daughter.

The year I was at rock bottom, I took on three "conquest" missions. Number One was a tech prodigy. Number Two was a genius doctor. Number Three was a top dog in the legal world. Judging by how busy they all were, I thought that with some careful time management, handling all three would be a piece of cake. However, I forgot one thing. Three CEOs meant dealing with three difficult girlfriends. That morning, Number One CEO Eric's childhood sweetheart accused me of stealing her charm bracelet. Eric beat me, yelled at me, and made me stand all day. That afternoon, Number Two's Ron's girlfriend tore into me, figuratively ripping my kidney out. Ron warned me that he had only let me get close so I could serve as a stand-in for her. By evening, Number Three's Lance had his girlfriend taking secret photos of me and spreading rumors, and he told me to be gracious, saying she was "just joking." I could not take this nonstop 24-hour torture anymore, so I told the system, I quit. I want to go home. The system replied, "Quitting is simple. Just die in this world." I listened. However, after I executed my death escape, why did all three CEOs completely lose their composure?

My mate, Charalambos, was the heir to the Nightshade Pack. To take over as Alpha, he was sent to Noctis City, the capital city, for special training. When he left, my stepsister, Francesca, insisted on going with him. He refused at first, but she forced his hand, threatening a hunger strike until he gave in. Eventually, he allowed her to accompany him as his assistant. This went on for three years. Throughout those three years, our mate bond stayed strong. I never felt the slightest hint of betrayal. He constantly reassured me through our mind-link. "You're the only one for me." At some point, I started receiving photos anonymously. Francesca kissed him in the face, but he never refused. Once, Charalambos and I were on a video call in the dark, and I could hear Francesca’s breathless voice clearly while she whispered his name in the heat of it. Three years later, the day he returned to the pack, I saw her walking behind him. She had been with pup for five months, and there was a smug, victorious smile on her face. He looked at me apologetically. Guilt was written all over his face. "I'm sorry. I’ve only ever loved you. Once the pup comes, you can raise it." I was done. I had waited for three years. I made up my mind to reject him.

After their biological son returned, my parents sent me away to Exile Island. Once one set foot on that island, one would become prey for the wealthy. Yet, they ignored my pleas, allowing those rich men who arrived on the island to take turns tormenting me. In just a few days, photos of what I had suffered on the island were sent straight to my fiancée, the heiress of an elite family from the capital. She didn’t speak up for me. Instead, she turned around and publicly announced her engagement to the true heir. During an interview, someone asked her about me. Her whole body trembled with anger as she snapped, “Him? I never expected he’d turn out like that, running wild overseas, sleeping around like some kind of degenerate. It’s disgusting.” My parents put on a show of heartbreak. “We sent him abroad to study out of kindness. Who knew he’d behave so disgracefully? From now on, the Yule family has no such son.” After I was tortured to death on that island by those so-called rich people, my fiancée and the true heir held a wedding worth tens of millions. It was broadcast live across the internet, drawing unprecedented attention. However, even more spectacular than their wedding was the wedding gift I had sent them.