Multiple Pov Twists

"Are you sure you want to do this? If you go through it, you’ll no longer be Luna and might become a rogue." "I'm sure." I removed our wedding ring, which he slipped into my fingers three years back on the desk as payment. "Alright, when your werewolf Valentine’s Day arrives, I’ll help you break the mate bond with Alpha Owen." The witch used a dagger to cut my palm and let the blood pour into a test tube. Ten days later, I endured the unbearable pain of severing the mate bond. I changed the surname I had followed for three years, obtained a new identity, and drove away from the Starry Pack in a second-hand car bought from the black market. Owen, you will never find me again. You should have known it would end like this from the day you betrayed me. One month later, a question exploded on social media, spiraling out of control. #Where did Luna Kya go?#

Inside the tattoo studio, Seth Jones let his fingertips trace the dip of Rita Searle's waist and move slowly up her spine. With a soft rustle, her dress slipped to her ankles. He stood over her, taking in the blood-red rose inked across her chest. They had been married for three years, and this was the anniversary gift he'd be giving her—999 roses tattooed into her skin. A broken sob scraped up Rita's throat. "Seth, it hurts… Please, stop…" Her tears splashed onto the back of his hand, but he only pressed the needle deeper, dragging it along until angry red welts marked her body. "Victor wanted those damn roses so he could give them to another woman, and that led to Tara falling off that cliff and ending up in a vegetative state. I'm just giving him what he wanted. You should be grateful." Lying on the cold tattoo table, Rita felt the chill spreading through her. Her eyes stung, weighed down by grief churning behind them. "Isn't it enough? You bought out Searle Group, you hung Victor over a cliff, and left him for the vultures. What else do you want from us?" Seth grabbed her by the throat and forced her chin up. "And isn't Tara innocent in all this? Rita, you and Victor destroyed her life. Don't you owe her for that?"

I had always confused my husband and his twin brother because they were identical twins. Once, I mistook my husband’s brother for him and made a terrible mistake, which I wish I could take back. But then my husband told me that his brother died three years ago. So who was the one I had seen last night?

When I got home, I received dozens of voice messages from a parent. They had been sent in the group chat with other parents of children in the same kindergarten class as my daughter, Lily. [Ms. Channing, didn't I tell you that my daughter is allergic to furry toys? Why did you allow that boy, Sparky, to give my daughter a hugging bear?] Ms. Channing quickly denied this. No child called Sparky had ever studied in the kindergarten. Another parent was also furious about this. [How can you claim that? My son said Sparky would always force him to play hide-and-seek. If he refuses, Sparky would grab his hair!] I quickly asked Lily what this was about. Lily took out a hugging bear from behind her back and told me about it. [Ms. Channing can't see Sparky. Only smart children can see him. Sparky is a little boy with red eyes. Every child who plays hide-and-seek with Sparky will get a hugging bear.]

Pitong taon na kaming kasal ni Zackary at sa wakas ay nagkaroon na kami ng unang anak. Ngunit nang makita ang resulta ng pagbubuntis, naghinala siyang hindi kanya ang bata. Dahil sa galit, nagpa-paternity test ako sa kanya. Noong araw na lumabas ang resulta, si Zackary, na dapat ay nasa ospital, ay nagpakita sa aking pintuan. May hawak siyang litrato. Makikita sa litrato na nasa bahay ng kaibigan niya ang underwear ko. Sinipa niya ako ng malakas kaya nawala ang baby ko. Sumigaw siya, "You bitch, ang lakas ng loob mo na lokohin ako. Hindi ako magpapalaki ng anak ng ibang lalaki, alam mo ‘yon. Go to hell!" Nang maglaon ay nalaman niya ang katotohanan at nakiusap sa aking patay na anak na bumalik.

To help cover our household expenses, I often sold second-hand items online. Late one night, a new listing suddenly appeared under my husband's account. [Private trainer for sale. Almost new. Obedient and resilient. No upkeep required. Cash only.] The attached photo showed a woman from behind, caught in the middle of a yoga pose. The red mole at her waist stood out clearly. It was me. The comments section erupted within seconds. Men with usernames like 'LocalHunter' started bidding aggressively. [Five hundred. Thirty minutes. Pickup only. No negotiations.] [Are you kidding? Two thousand. All night. I'll bring my own gear.] My husband immediately replied to the highest bidder: Adrian 'The Butcher' Kane. [Deal. She's in the bedroom. The door isn't locked. Go straight in.] In the next moment, the bedroom doorknob slowly began to turn from the other side.

The richest man in the country, Sebastian Vance, has a ring custom-made to my exact measurements, worth billions of dollars, for the woman who will be his bride. In the first life, my stepsister, Mia Lowe, slips on the ring and marries him. Sebastian claws her face, shouting, "She's not the one!" In the second life, my other stepsister, Lorraine Lowe, loses 30 pounds before marrying him. He shoves her down the stairs anyway and says, "She's not the one either." In the third life, my stepmother, Vivian Cole, grits her teeth and slices off a piece of her own flesh just to force the ring onto her finger. Sebastian sneers and pushes her under the bathwater, holding her down until her body goes limp. By the fourth life, out of options and terrified, they finally send me. I slide the ring on, and it fits perfectly. My entire family lets out a sigh of relief. But the second Sebastian lays his eyes on me, he draws a knife and stabs me to death. "Why is it still not her? Where is she?" In the last life, he has his assistant, Owen Hayes, deliver a ring to us. All four of us insist that it won't fit. Owen shoots us a strange look. "Mr. Vance said the rightful owner of this ring is among you."

A video proving that Zachary Groff, the fake scion, has set me up is exposed. Following that, my parents and fiancee, Leta Quinlan, stand firmly by me, offering me love and support. I hand the evidence to them, giving them full trust and authority to handle the matter. They tell me that Zachary died in a car accident after being chased out of the house, and I choose to believe them. But then, in the fifth year of my marriage, I have an unexpected encounter with Zachary, who should have already been dead. He is carrying a young girl in his arms while holding tightly onto Leta's hand. He says, "Leta, if not for you and my parents, I probably would have been locked up by Harvey Groff, that heartless man. "Thankfully, Mom and Dad destroyed the evidence and even opened a jewelry design studio for me. You even sacrificed your own marriage so that he doesn't suspect a thing. "Thank you for everything you've done these five years!" "Let's just say that I am making amends to Harvey on your behalf. I'm just glad that you and our daughter are happy and well." It turns out that the happy family, which I thought I had, is just a massive web of lies spun by my parents and Leta. My parents, my wife, and Zachary are the ones actually living happily as a family, while I am just a fool who spent the last five years being deceived. I no longer want to have love—whether familial or romantic—that is not solely mine.

“One day earlier or later—what’s the difference?” Henry asked calmly. It was my thirtieth birthday. The deadline of the promise he made beside my dying mother’s bed. But that day, he needed to take his pregnant sister-in-law to her prenatal appointment. “She’s carrying my late brother’s only child,” he said. “Why are you fighting her for this?” I wasn’t fighting for a date. I was fighting for the last shred of dignity in a fifteen-year love. The girl who once meant everything to him Had slowly become the unreasonable one. The sister-in-law who used to disgust him Had somehow become the one he needed to protect. So I smiled and said, “Fine.” And I left. Three days later, I turned thirty without him. That was the day Henry Jones began to regret it. Because soon he would learn— The baby wasn’t his brother’s. The betrayal didn’t start with me. And the woman he chose to hurt… was the only one who ever stood by him. But by then—I was already gone. And this time,He would be the one begging.

A flash flood swept down from the mountains, causing me to become caught in a car crash. As five steel bars pierced through me, I could feel my blood pouring out in torrents as my life hung by a thread. My husband rushed to the scene. Instead of coming to me, he cradled his true love from the passenger seat and walked away. He didn't even glance in my direction. I was in and out of the ICU three times, clinging to life. Not once did he visit me. His attention was wholly fixed on the girl, who only had a mild concussion. After nearly ten years of deceiving myself, I couldn't keep playing the fool any longer. The day I was discharged, I asked my husband, Dominic Davis, for a divorce. I had survived by sheer luck, and I wasn't about to waste any more time with a husband who didn't love me.