Melodramatic

I find out I'm about two months pregnant before my wedding. Luke Logan drunkenly caresses my belly and half-jokes, "I'm not ready to be a father, Summer. Can we not keep the baby?" My heart is calm. I say softly, "Sure." In my past life, I insisted on keeping the child. Meanwhile, Riley Richards had an accidental miscarriage, making it difficult for her to conceive again. Luke held a grudge against me for that and treated me coldly after we married. As for the son that I put one foot in the coffin to bring into this world, he, too, cried and fussed. He wanted Riley to be his mother. Later, I got into an accident and suffered from significant blood loss. However, Luke and our son merely hurried past me to be with Riley as she went into labor. I slowly bled to death on the floor above, while Luke and our son celebrated the birth of Riley's child on the floor below. Now that I've been reborn, I won't lose sight of myself and take the wrong path again. I call Eric Nottingham. "I'll join the expedition team to Glacia."

In the five years of their marriage, Kimberly bore a son for Daniel, believing their life together would last. Then Siena returned to the country. Kimberly finally realized she was nothing but an outsider the whole time. Daniel repeatedly chose Siena over her, and even her son grew attached to Siena. Fortunately, their marriage was just a contract, and in seven days, she would be free to leave.

My son, Tim, was kidnapped by a group of rogues. My husband, Alpha Kieran, spared no effort, using every resource at his disposal to find him. Finally, he tracked him down to an pub training center nearby. But when Tim regained consciousness, he discovered that he was disabled. As the only son of Kieran, destined to inherit his father’s title, he couldn’t bear the reality of his condition. Despair consumed him, and in his grief, he attempted to take his own life by drowning himself in the lake within our territory. I arrived too late. By the time I pulled him from the water, my strength was nearly gone. Kieran rushed me to the pack hospital, holding me close as he whispered into my ear, "Please, Selene, stay with me. I cannot lose you too." But after my surgery, as I lay in bed, I overheard Kieran speaking to his Beta, Damon, in the hallway. "Alpha, sacrificing the rescue mission that could have saved Tim seemed… excessive. Finding another heart donor wouldn’t have been impossible. Using Tim’s—he was your only son with Luna Selene." "I allowed him to be born because I knew he could save my daughter. I’ve already raised him long enough. It’s only right that he gives me what I need now." "And the doctor said siblings have a better chance of surviving heart transplants. Ana is my most precious child—I won’t risk her suffering another heart attack." Kieran’s words shattered me. He was my fated mate, the love of my life. Yet he had sacrificed our son—our son—to save the bastard child he had with his mistress. The marriage I once cherished, the fated mate I once believed in, had now become my own personal hell.

My husband, the hospital director, stole my kidney to save his beloved first love, who suffered from uremia. While I was under anesthesia for heart surgery, he stormed into the operating room without permission and ordered the removal of one of my kidneys. I begged him to stop, explaining that my heart condition was critical and that I could not survive back-to-back major surgeries. He only sneered at me, his voice dripping with disdain. “I knew you’d be jealous of Cece and make pathetic excuses. That’s exactly why I chose this moment.” Ignoring my desperate pleas, he took my kidney and walked away. In the end, I suffered multiple post-surgery complications and died miserably on the operating table.

My fiancé dumped me the moment he found out about my rare blood type. "That condition of yours? Yeah, it'd just drain my wallet." I was spiraling when Vincent showed up—like some knight in shining armor, pulling me out of the wreckage. He didn't care about my blood type. We barely dated before he proposed, and for a while, married life felt perfect. Until a year later, when I overheard him talking to a doctor. "Vincent, you already took 400 milliliters of Sophia's blood last month, and now you want another 200? Are you insane? Even if you love Emma, you can't just drain an innocent woman dry for her!" "A little more won't kill her. Stop overreacting." My head spun. My whole body went cold. That's when it hit me—our perfect marriage had been a lie from the start.

My boyfriend Julian is a chess grandmaster, a genius. At sixteen, he became the youngest grandmaster in North American history. I gave him ten years of my life, but a ring was never on the table. But when he reached the pinnacle of his career and won the Grand Slam, he still refused to break the pact he'd made with his family about his career. "According to my plan, I'm not considering marriage or any other form of long-term commitment until all my goals are achieved." I didn't argue with him. I quietly packed his luggage for the World Championship and wished him the best. He had no idea that at the very moment he was lifting the championship trophy with the world watching, I was dragging my failing body to sign my own name on a euthanasia consent form.

I go ice fishing with my husband, and we encounter a snowstorm and hailstorm. The mountainside villa has no sustenance and power, and he takes my down jacket to keep his former superior warm. I'm three months pregnant, and my daughter is having a high fever. However, he pushes us out of the villa to look for wild vegetables. Why? Because his former superior wants to eat them. He probably has no idea that I've come to this villa countless times to prepare his anniversary gift. Later, my daughter ends up mentally disabled from the high fever. I finally get my hands on proof of his under-the-table dealings with his former superior. I destroy him before he's promoted!

While I was being brutally tortured, my mate was with his first love, a she-wolf named Lily who'd been poisoned with wolfsbane. The wolves who had a personal vendetta against Louis blinded me and stuffed my mouth with stones, violating me one by one, then tried to call him using my phone. The alpha only gave me a heartless command before hanging up, not listening to a word. "Unless you donate your bone marrow fluid to Lily, I'll continue ignoring you!" The enemy wolves stared at the blood trickling down my legs, and mocked, "Oh, were you pregnant? Well, seems like we got the wrong person, anyway! How could you and your baby not compare to a poisoned she-wolf?" When my corpse was discovered, Louis immediately reminded Lily to be careful. When another wolf reminded him that he should check in on me since I was pregnant, he scoffed. "Pregnant? Her? Is that the lie she's going with to justify not saving Lily? "I never want to see such someone so venomous again!" Little did he know that he already saw me. The corpse, decaying and rotting in front of him, was me, his Luna.

After six years with Joel, Lyra landed in the hospital—sick and drained. The day she got discharged, she caught something in the hallway she wasn't supposed to hear. "Joel Fenwick, are you out of your mind? You gave Lyra's bone marrow to Renee without telling her? You knew her health was trash and lied about it being a stomach issue just to make her do it?" Renee. Joel's childhood flame. The girl he never got over. Lyra didn't cry. Didn't freak out. She just picked up the phone, called her parents overseas, and said yes to an arranged marriage with the Windsors.

My marriage to Lucian Hawke was hailed as the most perfect union in the mafia world. As the daughter of the Sinclair family and him being the sole heir of the Hawke family, our marriage united the two most powerful mafia families in the Northeastern. I thought we were unbreakable. Then, I was diagnosed with terminal cancer. As if life couldn’t get any worse, my husband's first love returned—on the very same day. That night, the man I’d been married to for years didn’t come home. The next morning, his voice was cold, distant. Indifferent. “I’ve got the divorce papers ready. When can you come sign them?” I hesitated, struggling to steady my voice. “I’m still at the hospital.” He didn’t even pause. “I don’t care if you're on your deathbed, Elara. Come home and sign the goddamn papers.” My heart shattered, but I refused to let it show. “As you wish, Lucian.” What he didn’t know was that I was dying—literally. A week later, at my funeral, Lucian wearing a tuxedo, weeping at my grave, whispering regrets he should have voiced when I was still breathing. Ironically, my funeral day, was also his wedding day with his sweetheart. But it was too late, my love. This time, you’ll never see me again.