Mikaelson Family Tree

I've died on my wedding day. When I'm in the middle of getting cruelly tortured by the thugs, my parents, older brother, and my fiance are all comforting my younger adopted sister, Arianna Capuano, who's bawling her eyes out. Before I die, I've called them for help. But Diego Atzori, my fiance who's the next Don of the Atzori family, sounds extremely angry at me when he picks up the call. "Carlotta Capuano, Arianna's life is more important than our marriage! Stop putting on an act just to attract attention!" The call goes dead. My life is also entering its countdown. I can only lie in my own puddle of blood, my body broken and mutilated, until I stop breathing entirely. No one can find me at home. They think I'm just throwing a tantrum because the wedding has gotten canceled. Perhaps I've chosen to run away from the altar just so I can attract their attention. What they don't know is the fact that I've never left home. In fact, I've died in the basement of my own house. I died right beneath their feet.

The kindergarten was engulfed in flames. My four-year-old daughter was trapped inside. I pleaded desperately with my firefighter husband, "Nina is upstairs!" He snapped impatiently, "You're just trying to stop me from saving Dana's daughter. How could you be so cruel? Dana is fragile. If she loses her child, it will destroy her. She won't survive this." That night, he emerged from the fire carrying Dana's daughter, instantly becoming a hero. Even at midnight, when I wept by the side of our daughter's ashes, he was still with Dana. "Samuel Leif, you'll pay for this!"

My four-year-old son dies after someone crashes into him with a motorcycle. The culprit is a college freshman who's just been admitted. I'm devastated, but my husband generously forgives her. "We have to give her a chance since she's such an outstanding student. She's still young—we can't ruin her future." Ha. She has plenty of opportunities and a bright future ahead of her. What about my son? He was only four. Later, I rip his letter of forgiveness to pieces before his face. He wants me to forgive the young lady? No way in hell!

My almost 50-year-old mother-in-law has recently gotten a new boyfriend. He's young, handsome, and has washboard abs. Just as I think she's finally hit the jackpot and found her true love, he climbs into my bed in the middle of the night…

On the day Moon Spencer received the Medal of Honor, she made a public declaration of love on live television to her accompanying military medic, Xavier Quinn. “If it weren’t for Xavier, I’d have died in that storm at sea. He is the most important person in my life.” At the same time, her husband, Nathan Johnson, was lying on his deathbed at home. For years, he had taken care of Moon’s parents and raised their child alone. The strain destroyed his health, and he had little time left. He never expected that after twenty years of sacrifice, he would not even hear a word of thanks from her. What truly broke him was their daughter’s comment. “Dad, don’t you think Dr. Quinn and Mom are perfect together? You should leave sooner and make room for him.” Nathan collapsed in fury and regret. He died that night. When he opened his eyes again, he was back to the night before Moon left for her coastal deployment. This time, he refused to stay behind as the forgotten man who kept everything running. In this life, he would pursue his own dream.

When I was in the early stages of brain cancer, my parents begged me to give my sister one of my kidneys. They also told me to give them the money I had saved for my treatment. When my sister left the hospital, it was her birthday. My parents threw her a party while I lay in a hospital bed trying to get better. Later, when my mom found out I had late-stage brain cancer, she begged my sister to give me a kidney. My sister said no. So, on the day of my funeral, my mom buried both of her kidneys with me.

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!"

We were on our way to celebrate our son’s birthday when we got into a car crash. When I woke up, I looked at my family gathered around my hospital bed and cracked a joke: “Sorry, but who are you guys?” I held back a smile, curious to see how they'd humor their "amnesiac" patient. Would my mother grab my hand in a panic? Would my husband look at me with worry? Would my son rush over, crying and calling me Mom? What I didn't expect was for them to freeze for a moment—and then, almost in unison, let out sighs of relief. My mother was the first to speak, her tone unmistakably lighter, as if a huge weight had been lifted. "If you don’t remember, it’s probably for the best. This is Lindsay—your sister, she’s my daughter. You were adopted." My husband then pointed at me and said to our son, "You should call her Aunt Wendy." Before the shock could even sink in, I watched the child I'd fought so hard to protect turn and throw himself into the arms of Lindsay. "Mom! I played outside all day. I missed you so much!" So that was the truth. My amnesia was exactly what they'd been hoping for. In that case, I didn't need this made-up life anymore.

My childhood sweetheart and my older brother both fell in love with Rose, the Omega who had just sought refuge from the Northern Pack. The one who broke our engagement said, "Grace is the kind of Luna who was born to stand beside an Alpha. I’m just not worthy of her." The other had forgotten our mother’s dying words. "Rose has suffered so much. If I share half the love I gave you with her, that wouldn’t be too much, would it?" On the day of my birthday, my mate chose to throw a party for Rose instead. On the anniversary of our mother’s death, my brother was happily celebrating with Rose and her mother, helping deliver her kitten. They went with her to the Snowpine Pack to take part in the Royal Totem Insignia Design Contest and personally draped the cloak of honor over her shoulders. And me? I set fire to the house that held all our memories. I drank a potion bought from a witch, severed every mind-link I had, and faked my death in that fire, then left the Northern Pack without a word. When news of my death reached Snowpine, those two men, who had already cast me aside, went mad with grief. They rushed back to the Northern Pack overnight and collapsed in front of the burned-down house, crying like their hearts had been ripped out.

Around the seventh month of my pregnancy, I overheard a conversation between my mate, Zane Andrews, and Ciara Phillips, the she-wolf I had taken in out of compassion after her family was brutally slaughtered by rogues. In a sultry, flirtatious tone, Ciara purred, “Zane, my love, if your wife discovers that the fertilized egg I planted in her womb isn’t truly hers by blood, she’ll be devastated—perhaps to the point of despairing suicide, don’t you think?” Zane snorted, his voice dripping with disdain at the mention of me. “It’ll work for us if she simply dies from heartbreak. Damn it. I can’t shake the worry that she might sever our bond and leave me with nothing. Let’s keep this under wraps until our child inherits all her assets. Only then will we reveal the bombshell, plunging her into darkness.” Ciara giggled, praising Zane for his cunning. My claws itched to lash out, but I held back, knowing the time for confrontation wasn’t yet. My heart sank as their betrayal cut deep. Years ago, I had defied my pack elders’ warnings about Ciara being a potential threat, taking her in and grooming her into our pack's doctor, funding her education out of sheer empathy. Now, I regretted every moment of my kindness. To think that my mate, who had once begged for my protection for his fragile pack, had the audacity to betray me. If not for my support, his pathetic pack would have crumbled long ago, leaving him nursing his wounds in a dark corner, fretting over survival. After a long moment of contemplation, I made my decision. I would feign ignorance to their schemes and play along by giving birth to Ciara’s baby. Two decades passed. Ciara’s child grew up, bearing the name Simon Andrews. Aware of their treachery, I still transferred all my assets to him. Once the paperwork was completed, Ciara boldly approached me in front of the entire pack, a maternity DNA test in hand. With a smug smile, she declared, “Leia Holland, look at this! I am Simon’s biological mother. Leave h