Mercadejas Family Tree

My mom and dad died heroically in a fire rescue, trying to protect an orphan. Afterward, my brother brought the orphan, Audrey, home. To make her smile, he'd throw away photos of me and our parents. He even kicked me out in front of everyone. For Audrey's coming-of-age celebration, he took her to Cranburn—the place I'd always dreamed of going. In his eyes, I had nowhere else to go. He believed that once I realized I was wrong, I'd come back on my own. But what he didn't know was—I had joined an overseas rescue team. This might be the last time we ever see each other.

My twin sister, Stella, was an Omega. She discovered she was a dead ringer for the beloved Luna from the neighboring pack. She was sick of being a nobody. A ridiculous idea emerged in her mind. She would kill the Luna, take her place, and mate with Alpha Andrew. I couldn't let it happen.I saved the Luna, but it cost me everything. "Are you jealous that my face is more beautiful than yours and want to lose my precious chance? You bitch!" " I think my sister has gone crazy. Stella locked me in the cellar. She tortured me with silver poison for seventeen days until I died. I woke up again. Back at the Hunting Ritual. The exact moment she set a feral wolf on the Luna. But I was still too late. I watched as Stella rushed forward. She forced a lethal dose of black silver powder down the wounded Luna's throat. When the news of the Luna’s death came, my Omega parents celebrated with Stella. "Our Stella is going to be the next Luna! We're finally going to have it all! No one will ever look down on us again!" But they had no idea. Alpha Andrew had been pulling the strings all along.

My neighbors across the hall had a nasty habit of stealing. This included my food deliveries, my shoes from the cabinet, and even my clothes drying on the rooftop. Nothing was safe from them. I had enough. One day, I placed a pair of shoes borrowed from my friend, who was battling an extreme case of athlete’s foot, outside my door. Not long after they stole them, they came banging on my door in the middle of the night, furious about the outbreak on their feet. They even filed a complaint at the hospital where I work. I was so furious that I invited a few homeless patients to move in. A muscular man with HIV, an elderly woman with syphilis, and a young man with severe mental health issues became their new neighbors. The thieves could not handle it and begged the landlord to evict them. However, the joke was on them. My family owned the entire building. If anyone was leaving, it certainly was not me.

My best friend and I go to a music festival together. There, my brother's girlfriend locks me in the toilet. "Young women these days are so shameless—I can't believe you had the nerve to seduce my CEO boyfriend! I'm going to teach you a lesson today since your parents obviously didn't raise you right!" She refuses to listen to my explanation. She pours dirty water all over me before slapping me in public and stripping me. Then, she brands me with an insult. By the time my brother arrives, I'm tormented beyond recognition. "I can explain, Spencer! I thought you were lying when you said she was your sister!"

I'm one of the entertainment industry's most popular celebrities. One day, the Holmes family, the richest family in Hemmingville, comes to me and tells me I'm one of them. The day I return home, the city's paparazzi follow me to capture every second of my return. When I arrive at the Holmes residence, my adoptive sister stops me from entering. "We've looked into you and found out that you shot to fame after starring in an adult film. "The Holmes family has its rules—you have to change your clothes in public before you can step foot in here. Dad said that I'm the one who calls the shots when he and Jason aren't at home, so I hope you can understand me." In my past life, I would've acted cautiously and adopted a lowly stance for the sake of my image. But I've been reborn. I kick aside the things in my way and shove Nancy Holmes aside. "How ridiculous! You'd better stop and think whether you're worthy of telling me what to do. How dare you ask me to strip in public? "I'm insured from head to toe—you can't afford to pay me back if you even touch a hair on my head! And you call yourself the heiress of the family, huh? I'd like to see you grovel at my feet and beg me later!"

As the youngest daughter of the Costellos, I had always lived in my sister’s shadow. That was until five years ago, when she betrayed the family and ran off with a street thug. I took her place and completed the wedding with Elio Ross. Over the years, he loved and indulged me, but we never got a marriage license. He always said family matters kept him busy, and that, with or without it, I was his wife in his and the family’s eyes. I believed him. Until today… I watched as Elio walked out of the church with my sister Alyssa, who had been missing for five years, both of them wearing the family rings that symbolized their union. At the church entrance, three black SUVs opened their doors simultaneously, and my three brothers stepped out in tailored suits. “The ceremony’s done? We’ve already booked Antonio’s to celebrate Alyssa’s return.” They climbed into the cars, expressing their joy, while no one noticed my pale, shattered face across the street. Later that night, under the guise of apology, my sister let a venomous spider bite me. “A substitute is always a substitute. Now that I’m back, it’s time for you to die.” I screamed for help. However, my husband and my three brothers only rushed to hold my sister, who had pretended she had fallen, without a glance at me, writhing from the poison. They called in every specialist from the hospital, only to tend to my sister’s scraped knee. That was the moment my heart truly broke. After being dragged back from death’s door by the doctors, I made my decision. I picked up the phone and called the International Private Island Exchange. “That isolated, uninhabited island… I’ll take it.”

I died on the day I was supposed to receive the Pack’s Distinguished Service Award. Three hours after I died, my parents, my brother, and my mate were just wrapping up the graduation party they’d thrown for my sister. While my sister, Ella, was posting a cozy family photo on Instagram, I was locked in our basement, using my tongue to swipe on my phone and call for help. The only person who answered was my mate, Ryan. All he said was, "Sophie, cut the drama. Ella's graduation party is important. Enough with the tantrums!" This was the ninety-ninth time they had let me down. And the last. I lay in a pool of my own blood, my lungs still. They thought I was just throwing a fit, hiding somewhere. That if they taught me a lesson, I’d come crawling back. But they didn't know. I was home the whole time. I was already dead.

The day my mother-in-law discovered she had uterine cancer, she packed up and moved in to our home. “I don’t have much time left. I’m all out of hope!” she choked out. “You’d be cruel to kick me out. Show me some mercy!” I looked at my speechless husband, then at my beloved son I had raised with so much love and care. I asked them, "What do you guys think?" My husband silently made a grim expression and grabbed my arm. “How long are you going to hold on to that little incident that happened after Everett was born? Mom's already so sick." My son echoed his sentiment, “Grandma doesn't have much time left. Of course we have to take good care of her!" I smiled at them and said, “Alright. You guys can take care of her if you love her so much."

In order to protect my father, I was tortured for ten hours, but my father was busy celebrating his adopted daughter’s eighteenth birthday. With my dying breath, I called my father and said, “Dad, it’s my birthday today. Could you wish me a happy birthday?” “You crazy monster! You got your mother killed in order to celebrate your birthday! How could you still ask me to celebrate your birthday? You should just die!” With that said, he hung up. The next day, my corpse was placed in different flower pots and put in front of a police station. My father was in charge of inspecting my corpse, and he could immediately tell that the murderer did this for revenge. What they did to me was cruel and made a mockery of the police’s authority. But he did not manage to tell that the deceased was the daughter he hated.

Just because my sister, Yvonne Lindell, claims I swapped Grandma's medicine with sugar pellets and caused her death, Mom locks me inside the cremator. I kneel and beg, but Mom spits at me in disgust. "You wretched girl, stay still! You killed your grandma by secretly switching her medicine. Now go repent to her properly!" Dad hesitates, unable to bear it. "Maybe we should let her out. What if—" "What are you afraid of? Don't forget that she killed your mother! If we don't teach her a lesson this time, who knows who she'll kill next!" The voices outside the door gradually fade, and my heart sinks to the bottom. The flames slowly begin to lick at my body. In despair, I clutch Grandma's cold hand beside me. "Grandma, I'm sorry. I should've taken better care of your medicine. But I swear, I didn't replace it with sugar pellets. Maybe only in death, can I truly atone for this sin…"