Mikasa Ackerman From Attack On Titan

My twin sister, Ruby Stone, and I split up after our parents' divorce. She stays with Mom, while I went with Dad. Since the divorce, he's sunk into a deep depression, gambling away every penny we have. We move into a dark, damp apartment, and life becomes an endless struggle. Every day, I go to school and quietly work a part-time job to keep us afloat. Then, out of nowhere, Ruby—whom I haven't heard from in forever—sends me a link to a live stream. "Check this out, Aria. There's a surprise waiting for you." I click it, and my jaw drops. I'm the one topping the trending live streams. The screen splits in two. On one side, I sit in my dingy apartment, hunched over homework under the dim light. On the other side, Mom and Dad cuddle with Ruby on the fancy couch of their sprawling villa. The comments came pouring in. "Let's see what happens when twins are raised on opposite sides of fortune all the way to 18." "Aria still doesn't know, right? Her parents never divorced. They're loaded and perfectly happy. Ruby's life has been like a dream too." "Poor Aria. She's always starving and never has anything decent to wear. Isn't that basically abuse?" "She's the more sensible one, so her parents decided to raise her poorly."

Titan was supposed to be Kari's forever, until he rejected her on their wedding day for her own stepsister, Indira. Broken and betrayed, Kari flees the pack she gave everything for. But when a mysterious stranger saves her from the edge, she finds something she never thought she’d get again: a second chance. She discovers that this mysterious stranger used to be Titan's beta who was also wronged by him. When her own parents are callously killed by her stepsister, her thirst for revenge only increases. A rejected mate, a second bond and a burning need to make them all pay. Will Kari get the happily ever after she deserves?

After becoming pregnant, my mate Derek transformed from a notorious playboy into the perfect devoted partner. He dismissed all his lovers and stayed by my side constantly, attending to every detail of my care with meticulous attention. Everyone marveled at his dramatic change, claiming he had truly fallen in love and reformed because of me. Three days before I gave birth to our pup, I heard him on a phone call. "Derek, that orphaned omega your mate sponsored is looking for you again. The girl's devoted enough - still chasing after you after all these years." Derek scoffed coldly. "Don't mention her again. If it weren't for accumulating good karma for my unborn pup, I'd never spend another penny on any other she-wolf." But on the night before my delivery, after he received a message from that omega, he decisively abandoned me. "Sorry, Alpha Derek. My bone marrow compatibility test failed. Thank you for sponsoring me all these years. I'm sorry that I can't accompany you anymore." During the storm, he left me alone deep in the forest. I called him desperately through our mindlink, but he had blocked me completely - every attempt met with cold silence. The rogue wolves found me in my vulnerable state. Their attack was merciless, and my body, heavy with pregnancy, couldn't defend itself. The trauma was too much. When I woke up again in the healing center, my pup was gone. Derek gave me the mate bond severance agreement with red-rimmed eyes. "The girl is stubborn and gets upset whenever she hears your name. Once she can accept you, I'll mark you again." Finally heartbroken, I left him behind. Three years later, I was at an auction house with my sister-in-law, my belly round with pregnancy again, when violent sounds erupted behind us. Derek stared fixedly at my swollen belly, his whole body trembling. "Whose pup is in your belly?"

At nine months pregnant, I was in the final stretch of my term, and my body heavy with a baby due any day. But my husband, Vito Falcone, underboss of the family, had locked me away. He held me in a sterile underground medical room and injected me with a labor suppressant. As I screamed in agony, he coldly told me to endure it. Because his brother's widow, Scarlett, was expected to go into labor at the exact same time. A blood oath he'd made with his late brother declared that the firstborn son would inherit the family's lucrative West Coast territory. "That inheritance belongs to Scarlett's child," he said. "With Daemon gone, she is utterly alone and destitute. You have my love, Alessia. All of it. I just need her to deliver safely. Then it's your turn." The drug was a constant, agonizing torment. I begged him to take me to a hospital. He grabbed me by the throat, forcing me to meet his icy gaze. "Stop the act! I know you're fine. You’re just trying to steal the inheritance." "To get ahead of Scarlett, you'll stop at nothing." My face was ashen. My body convulsed as I managed a desperate whisper. "The baby's coming. I don't care about the inheritance. I just love you, and I want our child to be born safely!" He sneered. "If you were really that innocent, if you had an ounce of love for me, you wouldn't have forced Scarlett to sign that prenup, waiving her child's inheritance rights." "Don't worry, I'll be back for you after she's given birth. you're carrying my own flesh and blood, after all." He kept a vigil outside Scarlett's delivery room all night. It was only after seeing the newborn in her arms that he remembered me. He finally sent his second in command, Marco, to release me. But when Marco finally called, his voice was shaking. "Boss... the missus and the baby... they're gone." In that moment, Vito Falcone shattered.

After having a crush on someone for 10 years, out of love, my father drugged his friend and placed him on my bed. When he woke at dawn the next morning, his eyes were ice-cold. But he still accept our engagement. However, life after marriage wasn’t as good as I thought. Mike Ashton would frequently fly abroad and stay there for a long time. I gave birth to our daughter on my own as I waited for him to return home. After four years, when I heard that he was returning home, I postponed everything and went to the airport expectantly with our daughter in my arms. Our daughter reached out her little hand and was hoping for a hug from him. He just looked at me indifferently and said in a cold voice, “I’m sorry, but I’m a neat freak.” From then on, my daughter and I would wash our hands at least three times every day and the house would be spotless. However, he still rarely came home and never gave our daughter a warm hug. That was until when I accidentally saw a video with Mike in it. “Mike, what do you think is the happiest thing in the world?” He answered casually, “I think it’s when I tucked Oliver into bed and dragged Jennifer into the bathroom when I was abroad last week.” The people around him all laughed, but my heart felt ice-cold. Jennifer Bundred was Mike’s ex-girlfriend who he still had an entanglement with and Oliver was her son. It seemed that he had been living with them during the time that he was abroad for the past four years. This fact finally made me give up all illusions. I left a divorce agreement for him, gave up my and our daughter’s identities, and went abroad to start a new life.

Connor Greene, a golden boy in Brookhaven, is unwittingly drugged, and I end up being the cure for his "predicament". It's exactly a month later when I discover that I'm pregnant during a routine medical examination. Upon learning the news, Connor offers me 50 million dollars to carry the baby to term, and then another ten million dollars to take full custody of the child. It's then that Julie Sutton, my so-called righteous friend, persuades me to terminate the pregnancy, saying, "You ought to know that money isn't everything, Queenie. If you throw away your dignity for just 60 million dollars, then you're no better than those women who entertain men in clubs!" In my past life, I had an abortion at Julie's suggestion and pursued legal action against Connor, accusing him of assault. I later sought financial assistance and support from Julie after my parents fell gravely ill, but Julie slapped me hard across the face instead. "Your parents are seriously ill, and instead of figuring things out on your own, you come running to me, huh? You're truly shameless, Queenie!" Julie broke off our friendship right then, and I also lost the lawsuit against Connor. I couldn't afford the treatment, so my parents' lives were cut short by their illnesses. In the end, the grief of losing them was too much, so I decided to take my own life by jumping off a rooftop. When I open my eyes, I find myself returning to the day Julie tried to persuade me to get an abortion.

My sister, Bella, had a baby in a back-alley shithole. Then she disappeared. A midwife tracked me down using an address Bella left behind. She shoved the newborn at me like a sack of garbage. My parents fell to their knees. Crying. Begging me to take her bastard. Just like that, my future as a promising artist was gone. The neighbors, the priest, my landlord… they all called me a whore. A sinner who had disgraced God. They ran me out of the neighborhood . My life was over. Eighteen years later, Bella waltzed back into my life. A cheap thug with a fake Rolex dangled from her arm. She held my son, crocodile tears streaming down her face. She called me jealous. Accused me of stealing her flesh and blood. Of keeping a mother from her child. And my son? The one I bled myself dry for? The son I poured every last cent into, turning him into a brilliant painter? The son I starved for, so much that I ended up in a hospital bed? The moment he saw his "real" mother, he cast me aside without a second thought. "You pathetic, broke bitch!" he spat. "You stole everything from us! All the happiness that was supposed to be ours!" My parents threw me out like a dog. Bella's thug husband had his men corner me in the red-light district. They pinned me against a wall, their threats vile and clear: Never come back. I had no way out. I threw myself off the Brooklyn Bridge. Then, I opened my eyes. I was back. Eighteen years in the past. Then came the knock. Hell had found my door. I wasn’t going to be the fool who gave everything and got nothing. This time, I took control.

On my birthday, Jake handed me two bucks and took me to a gas station to buy a lottery ticket. Then he dashed off, claiming he had an urgent work meeting. As I sat alone in the restaurant celebrating my birthday, I spotted my boyfriend, who claimed he had no time for me, having dinner with another woman. Without a second thought, I sent him a breakup text right then and there. Two days later, that lying jerk had the nerve to demand I return the lottery ticket. That's when I discovered it was worth $5 million. I cashed in the ticket and told him to get lost.

My husband's true love and I are trapped when a fire breaks out. He's a firefighter—when he arrives on scene, he chooses to save her without hesitation. I barely make it out alive. Once I do, I demand a divorce. He doesn't understand why. He asks, "Why do you want to divorce me? Because I didn't save you first?" I angrily throw the divorce agreement in his face. "Yes, that's exactly why! Because you chose to save your old flame when she was further from you!"

I get picked up by the cops in the middle of the night for street vending. While questioning me, they pull up my file. One officer eyes me suspiciously through my mask and asks, "What's a Clairefield University graduate like you doing selling stuff on the street at midnight?" I freeze and lean over to look at the file. The ID number matches mine, but the photo has been replaced with one of Madison Bass. That's when it hits me—20 years ago, I was the one who got accepted to Clairefield University! Dazed and numb, I stumble home only to hear my husband, Joseph Gunther, speaking on the phone. "Madison, don't worry. I won't let Lucy interfere with your life. Just go abroad in peace." It's him! Joseph helped Madison steal my identity and my future. My stomach twists. I turn to confront him, to expose the truth. But before I can, he strangles me to death with a belt. "I'm sorry, Lucy. You can't ruin Madison's future…" When I open my eyes again, I'm back in the classroom. Our homeroom teacher is handing out university application forms. This time, I'm taking my life back.