Multiple Pov Twists

During my father's funeral, my husband pants heavily while pulling my cousin's legs around his waist in the morgue. She holds him saucily and asks, "How did it feel? I left my first time for you." He pulls her close, looking sated. "It felt mindblowing." She asks coquettishly, "When will you marry me, then?" His expression turns serious. "I can give you as much money as you want, but your cousin is the only woman who can be my wife. The company we've established together is going public soon." I record all of this. On the day the company becomes publicly listed, a video of their intimacy in the office is played on a humongous screen. Then, I sell my shares and travel around the world. That's when my ex-husband weeps and begs me to return.

On the seventh Valentine's Day after our bond was formed, my Alpha, Ethan Carrillo, goes on a business trip with a female Beta. When he returns, he gives me a blue sapphire necklace worth millions of dollars as an apology. Everyone thinks he loves me to the core, but I discover the female Beta wearing something rarer—a full set of blue sapphire jewelry. She has a necklace, earrings, and a bracelet. I act like I don't know anything and continue playing my part as the perfect Luna. The two of them go wild in the study at home after I fall asleep, wanting to add some spice to their lives. The following day, Ethan gives me a rare blue fox-fur shawl. Only then do I realize that each blue gift he gives me is a sign of his diffidence. My wardrobe is full of the blue things he's given me over the years! I start preparing a gift for him, too. He'll never know that I'm getting ready to leave him. I'll never let him find me.

In my last life, my brother Leo—the heir to the Moretti crime family—stripped our estate bare of every last soldier, all for a Vegas jaunt. All because his new flame, Scarlett, had a jones for the high-roller tables. The Volkovs—our rivals, the very ones Leo had just pissed off—saw their opening and stormed our gates. My mother, Sofia, took a bullet meant for me. Died protecting me. I blew up Leo’s phone, my pleas turning to screams. He didn't answer. He waltzed back in after the shooting stopped, bringing our men home, but far too late for it to matter. Then, the news from Vegas. Scarlett was gone. A suicide note left behind. In it, she painted me as the monster. The one who’d leaked our weaknesses to the Volkovs. The one who'd orchestrated a fake kidnapping and torture plot, all to drive her to despair and lure Leo home. A perfect, tragic lie. Leo read the letter calmly. Then he burned the letter and told me, "Forget it. It's handled." Father tore into Leo for abandoning his post, for leaving his family to die. And me? I was named the new Consigliere. But after the celebration, Leo cornered me in the wine cellar. His face was a mask of cold fury as he pressed the barrel of his gun to my forehead. "This is for family traitors," he hissed, his voice pure venom. "The throne is my birthright, not some backstabbing bitch's prize!" When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Right in the middle of the fire and the blood. This time, I shoved my mother behind me, dragging her toward the panic room. And the bastards who were too blind to believe me? They’ll regret it.

On New Year's Eve, my husband, Max Davis, took me to a private dinner hosted by a big industry player. We had barely made our way around the room when a strange woman suddenly shoved me into the pool. When I insisted on checking the surveillance footage and calling the police, Max firmly held me back. He warned me to "remember my place" and not embarrass him in front of everyone. In the brief time I changed into another gown, I returned to find that same woman perched on my husband's lap, her red lipstick leaving traces on his collar. "Max, you're right! That nasty scar on her stomach really does look like a centipede. It's so hideous!" She giggled with mock innocence, adding, "It's been so fun messing with your wife. Next time, can I slap her when no one's looking?" Meanwhile, Max gazed at her like she was the only woman in the world, gently tracing his finger over her nose. "Of course, you can," he replied, eyes still locked on hers. "I'll even tie her hands behind her back for you."

My six-year-old son, Zac Quest, deliberately fed me almond cake, which I was allergic to, to make me miscarry. Standing in front of the hospital bed, he hid behind my husband, Sterling Quest, with a long face and refused to admit his mistakes, "Grandma said you won't ever divorce Dad once you give birth to my sister. I don't want you as my mom anymore. I prefer Ms. White!" Sterling said indifferently, "We'll have other children. Winona... is indeed more fit to raise Zac than you." Hearing those words, I gave up completely. The day I was discharged from the hospital, I went back home and cleared out all my belongings. All I left behind was a divorce agreement and a letter disowning Zac.

During the holiday season, a flood hits. The company's warehouse is submerged up to the third floor. Due to the emergency, I have my assistant tell everyone to come back a day early to help. I promise that the company will provide stipends and extra time off to make up for this. But on that day, a Gen Z employee goes live across the internet to report me. "Oh, my God. It's 2025, yet there are still companies forcing employees to adjust their time off and work overtime! Is this heartless boss so broke that she needs to exploit us like this? Will she die if she doesn't squeeze us out of every drop of usefulness? Company notices override the law. Impressive stuff, this is!" Soon, the company ends up on the trending list due to criticism from the online community. Even the regulators come knocking to hold us accountable. In the end, the company is forced to cancel the notice. A lot of equipment isn't salvaged in time, resulting in significant losses. The employee even posts a victory lap. "Give the boss a tiny lesson—see if she dares to force overtime again!" I'm so angry that I laugh out loud. I tell my assistant to cancel the annual benefit we give all employees—an entire month of paid time off for Christmas and the New Year holidays. If we have to stick strictly to the law, then fine. Have it your way!

Ang mga magulang ko, ang pinakamayaman na magkasintahan sa bansa, ay sikat na mga pilantropo. Kailangan ko hingin ang permiso nila kung kailangan ko gumastos ng higit pa sa limang dolyar. Sa araw na nadiagnose ako ng terminal cancer, humingi ako ng 100 dolyar, pero sa halip na tulungan ako, sinigawan nila ako ng tatlong oras. “Anong klaseng sakit ang makukuha mo sa edad mo? Kung hihingi ka lang ng pera, galingan mo naman sa palusot mo.” “Alam mo ba na ang 100 dolyar ay kayang suportahan ang mga bata sa naghihirap na mga lugar ng matagal na panahon? Mas may sense pa kausap ang kapatid mo kaysa sa iyo.” Kinaladkad ko ang katawan ko na may sakit pabalik sa maliit na basement. Pero noong dumaan ako sa mall, nakita ko ang mga magulang ko, live sa malaking screen, gumagastos ng malaking yaman para lang rentahan ang Disneyland para sa kapatid ko. Ang isang daang dolyar ay hindi sapat para sa isang round ng chemotherapy. Gusto ko lang bumili ng bagong damit at lisanin ang mundo ng may dignidad.

Dalawang taon na ang nakakaraan, pinilit ako ng nanay ko na makipaghiwalay sa boyfriend ko para palitan ang kapatid niya at pakasalan ang kanyang bulag na fiance. Dalawang taon ang nakalipas, bumalik ang paningin ng asawa kong bulag. Pagkatapos, hiniling ng nanay ko na ibalik ko siya sa kapatid ko. Tiningnan ako ng masama ng tatay ko. “Huwag mong kalimutan na fiance ni Rosie si Ethan! Sa tingin mo ba karapatdapat kang maging asawa niya?” Mamamatay na din naman ako. Kay Rosalie na ang posisyon ng pagiging Mrs. Sadler kung gusto niya! Hihintayin ko na karamahin sila kapag patay na ako!

Three days after my death, Dominic Sharp receives a phone call asking him to identify my body. He has an arm wrapped around a woman's waist as he says indifferently, "I couldn't care less if she's dead. Call me once she's been cremated." My body is sent to the crematorium. After putting the ashes into an urn, an employee calls Dominic again. He clucks his tongue impatiently. "Alright, alright. I'll be there soon."

I was with Don Massimo for five years. The whole time, he never hid his favorite: Cara. His driver’s daughter. The man who took a bullet for him. He called it paying a debt. Like a fool, I bought it. He gave her jewels. Fast cars. He even bought her a goddamn island. Three days before the wedding, I found out he'd moved the venue. Not to my family's estate in Sicily. But to the island. Her island. His excuse? Cara was claustrophobic. Couldn't handle a big indoor wedding. I was done. Three days later, the wedding happened on that island. But the bride was a no-show. Massimo was publicly humiliated. He tore the city apart looking for me. That’s when he found out. He thought he was marrying me. Instead, I married his greatest enemy. Nikolai Volkov. The Godfather of the Russian Bratva. He ditched Cara. He ran to my family's estate and waited. Seven days and nights. With flowers, a ring, and a whole lot of begging.