Netero Final Attack

I married a guy thirty-two years older than I am. Reason? Money. We got divorced, I got all his money and became the city's richest person. Just when my luck was starting to turn, I was hit with devastating news. My ex died. Drowned, they said. The cops think I'm the killer.

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?"

In my previous life, I was born at the stroke of a cold, pitch-black midnight on New Year's Day, an omen the old town whispered about. They called me a Deathbringer's child, destined to guide the souls of the stillborn to rest. From the age of six, I carried small coffins alone to the graveyard by the church, burying them in silence. Each time, when I reached into the velvet shroud that wrapped the tiny casket, I would find a golden coin resting inside. My mother sold those coins for money, buying my brother a grand mansion, while leaving me behind in the crumbling family house to keep doing the work. No one expected the world of Haunts to descend. However, those coins turned out to be tokens of command, keys that bound the Haunts of the apocalypse to my will. With them, I became the Empress of the End, feared by all, ruling with every resource at my command.

When my adopted sister, Alayna Ewing, hears that I'm with pup, she specifically gives me the body oil she's made. I accept it with a smile on my face. But later on, I smear the oil all over the belly of the old lady next door, who's diagnosed with a uterine tumor. After all, I have gotten reborn on this very day. In my past life, Alayna had formed a mate bond with Misael Finch, the Alpha of the Darkspire pack. She desperately needed to bear an heir for Alpha Misael in order to strengthen her position as the Luna. Unfortunately, her being an Omega meant that it'd be very difficult for her to conceive. So, she hatched a scheme against me, a newly pregnant she-wolf. Alayna bribed a dark sorcerer to cast a surrogate pregnancy curse on me. As long as I smelled something that she made, the pup in my womb would be transferred into her womb instantly. I spent entire pregnancies caring for my pup meticulously. I even endured the pain of countless shots in order to keep my pup safe. But whenever I was about to give birth, my pup would still end up disappearing. Alayna, on the other hand, gave birth to three heirs who inherited powerful bloodlines from their father. Thanks to that, her position as the Luna was greatly strengthened, and she got to live a lavish and comfortable life. In the end, Alayna had slandered me by claiming that I was overcome by lust during my pregnancy, so I ended up having passionate moments with Rogues. That was how I lost my pup every single time. With my reputation in tatters, I was exiled from the pack and forced to live the remainder of my days as a Rogue. In the end, I froze to death in winter. Now that I'm reborn, I shall grant Alayna her wish, seeing as she really wants an heir of her own. The healers have mentioned that it's their first time seeing such a huge uterine tumor, after all. Oh, I can't imagine what sort of expression Alayna will wear when she finds out that she's given birth to such a big tumor!

I spent five years weaving this pack's wards. But my mate, Alpha Jayden, tore that power from my hands. He gave it to her. To Chloe, the new Beta. The girl can't even conjure a simple shield. How could she ever hold the pack’s wards? I confronted Jayden, furious. He fed me a line about wanting Chloe to learn. To ease my burden. He claimed it hurt him to see me so drained, so overworked for our pack. And like a fool, I fell for it. I actually believed he cared. But on our tenth mating anniversary… On our tenth anniversary, Jayden skipped the one ceremony that mattered. The full moon ritual to forge our eternal bond. He was with Chloe. He claimed it was pack business, but I felt it. He gave her a temporary mark. A mark reserved only for a true mate. Our bond fractured. The pain was a constant, searing agony. The final straw? Jayden gave Chloe the Luna’s sacred heirloom. Right in front of me. That's when I gave up. I left. And I took my power back. The wards collapsed. When the enemy pack attacked, Jayden’s wolf nearly shattered. Only then did he cast that useless Chloe aside. He crawled back to me, fell to his knees, and begged me to return and protect him.

I was setting up a weekend shopping list on the tablet my husband had just replaced for our home system. A notification popped up. He had forgotten to log out of a shared, encrypted family calendar— one I didn’t recognize. There was only one unfamiliar profile photo. I tapped it. A list titled “My Little Princess – Personal Notes” filled the screen. My Little Princess doesn’t drink alcohol—only mineral water or herbal tea. No late nights. She needs absolute quiet to sleep. She gets anxious easily—keep fresh white lilies in the house and her favorite vanilla chocolates on hand. I scrolled slowly, my expression unreadable. The final entry was bolded. Highlighted. “Next Wednesday: take my Little Princess to choose her wedding crown.” I closed the screen. Then I picked up my phone and called my husband. “Love,” I said gently. “Does your Little Princess prefer a classic European bridal crown… or something more traditional? I thought I could help you choose.”

My husband, Gavin Chapman, is giving his secretary, Natasha Gardner, exactly what she wants. He's making her his wife. To pull it off, he fakes a lab accident, pretends to have amnesia, and brings her home. In his office, Gavin wraps his arms around Natasha and murmurs indulgently, "Not just Mrs. Chapman. Even if you want to pretend to be the vice president for a week, I'll let you." My eyes dim, but I let the lie go on. The next day, at a press conference, Gavin holds Natasha's hand and tells the world she's his real wife. He even threatens to kick me out of the company and take over all my research data. Dozens of cameras swivel toward me, waiting for my outburst. But I stay silent and simply sign the termination papers. Gavin doesn't know that the pharmaceutical project he believes will be done in seven days isn't quite finished. There's still one final step, and I'm the only one who knows how to do it.

I was nine months along and ready to give birth, but my husband, Sean Conner, had me locked in the basement storage room and told me to hold the baby in. He said it was because his late brother’s wife, Quinn Faber, was also due today. Years ago, Sean and his brother had agreed that the first child born to the Conners would be raised as the heir and inherit the family inheritance. “Quinn’s baby must come first,” Sean said as if it were nothing. “She lost her husband and has nothing. You already have my love. It’s only right that the inheritance goes to her child.” The pain from the contractions folded me over, and I cried, begging him to take me to the hospital. He wiped my tears with a dangerously calm voice. “Stop the act,” he snapped. “I always knew you didn’t love me. All you care about is money and status. You forced labor to happen early so you could steal my nephew’s place… How can you be so cruel?” White-faced and shaking, I managed to whisper, “I can’t control when a baby comes. It’s a coincidence. I swear I don’t care about the inheritance. I love you!” He let out a cold laugh. “If you loved me, you wouldn’t have pushed Quinn to sign that contract relinquishing her child’s inheritance. Fine. Once she has her baby, I’ll come back for you. After all, the child in your belly is my blood.” Sean stayed outside Quinn’s delivery room. Only after the newborn arrived did he remember me. He ordered his secretary to take me to the hospital, but the secretary’s voice trembled as he said. “Madam… and the baby… They’re both gone…” At that moment, Sean lost his mind.

Blaire Presley goes to the Carter residence, battered and bruised after being tormented by the three Carter brothers for three days. "Mr. and Mrs. Carter Senior, I've decided to marry Matthew Carter." Olivia Barrymore is surprised. "Are you sure you have the right guy, Blaire? Matt is those three brats' uncle!" Blaire isn't sure, but she has no other choice.

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.