Never Be Alone

A unique video went viral overnight. In the video, on a snow-capped mountain peak, my boyfriend, Ted Moretti, knelt on one knee, his expression tender. Amidst applause, the ring on her finger sparkled; it was the ring of the Moretti family's future bride. Within hours, the video topped various trending charts. People hailed it as the most romantic proposal of the year. Anya Rossi later posted a message. "I've been looking forward to this wedding for so long, and now it's finally happening! Thank you!" The comment section was instantly flooded with excited exclamations. "A Mafia family heir and an ordinary woman? I love it!" "It's like something out of a novel." "So enviable." I went to my boyfriend to confirm. Before I could even speak, I heard him talking to a close friend in the study. “Do I have any other choice?” Ted said, a hint of annoyance in his voice. “If I don’t marry her, her gambler father will sell her off.” His friend hesitated. “But what about Carly? She’s been with you for so many years. Aren’t you worried she might lose her mind?” Ted chuckled, unconcerned. “So what if she’s angry? Carly and I have been together for six years. She won’t leave. She can’t leave.” At that moment, something deep inside me seemed to freeze completely. A month later On the same day Ted and Carly got married, I married another man. Our wedding processions met downtown. According to custom, we exchanged bouquets between the two passing wedding cars, and our windows rolled down simultaneously. That’s when Ted saw me. I was wearing a white wedding dress. Not behind him. But in another man’s arms. After knowing Ted Moretti for so many years, his consistently perfect composure crumbled for the first time.

Amy Lacey and I were sworn enemies—stuck in a marriage neither of us wanted. She blamed me for ruining her last chance with her childhood sweetheart, Bryan Gurley. I hated her for sliding a separation agreement across the table on our wedding night. Seven years together. We both wished the other dead. The day I finally decided to divorce her, our private plane started going down. She grabbed the only parachute and strapped it around my waist. "Isaac Irving, if you die, how are you supposed to pay me back for the years I wasted on you?" The parachute snapped open. Then the explosion hit—and her last words cut through it. "Next life, don't come bother me again." Later, the rescue team pulled her burned body from the wreckage. In her arms was the love token Bryan had given her. That night, divorce papers in hand, I stepped off a rooftop. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day Amy ran to the airport to win Bryan back. This time, I let her go without a second thought. In this life, I set her free. From here on out, we'd walk our own roads—owing each other nothing.

She felt like she was constantly walking on a tightrope, balancing life and death. The weight of the world was on her shoulders and she was suffocating, unable to escape the constant mistreatment and disrespect she faced every day. Death seemed like her only hope to escape the misery. But fate had different plans for her. When she stumbled upon the Alpha of the most notorious pack, her world flipped upside down. He was the epitome of power, with piercing eyes that seemed to look into her soul. She was caught in a dangerous game, forced to make a choice that could either save her life or seal her fate forever. Will she be able to escape the claws of the Alpha or will she succumb to his wrath?

I found the lie on a Tuesday. Five thousand dollars. Every month. Going to a woman with my husband's last name. When Flynn came home and saw me sitting on the office floor surrounded by bank statements, he didn't even try to deny it. He just stood there and told me he couldn't explain. Three years of marriage and all I got was “I can't”. So I left. Three months later I met Dominic. Flynn's biggest business rival. Charming, warm, patient in all the ways Flynn never was. He made me laugh for the first time in months. He made me feel like myself again. He felt like the right choice. Except he wasn't. Now I'm pregnant, furious, and standing in the middle of two men who both claim they love me. They're both asking me to trust them. But they both already broke that trust.

"Sasha, Mira's already engaged to Vincent. Stop messing with it. We booked your flight. You'll stay overseas until after the wedding." The whole 'this is for your own good' routine was back. That's when Sasha Clarke realized—she'd been given a second shot. Right to the day her parents forced her out of the country and made her give up Vincent Scythe.

I'd been "married" to Zachary for two years—until I tried applying for a loan and the bank's system flagged someone else as his legal wife. Our wedding? Just a private show. The real marriage license had his name next to hers. So yeah. I wasn't the wife. I was the other woman. Crushed, I went home—only to hear Zachary talking to his friend, Ethan, by the door. "Man, watching you stress is exhausting," Ethan said. "You clearly love Sierra. So why marry Cathryn?" Zachary looked torn. "At first, she was just a stand-in. But when she left, I couldn't stop thinking about her. So I brought her back—as my assistant." He paused, then muttered, "I can't live without Sierra. But I can't let go of Cathryn either. So I gave Sierra my love in public and kept Cathryn hidden with the title. That's fair, right?" I stood frozen, heart splitting open. He loved us both. Me—his childhood sweetheart. Her—the hidden wife. I thought I was the one. Turns out, I was just the game. He didn't break my heart. He shattered my whole world. But I didn't cry. I didn't scream. I walked away. And started planning two things.

They buried her with lies... They mourned her with guilt... But Alira was never truly gone. When Alira discovers the affair between her sister and her husband,the man she once built her entire world around..confrontation turns to tragedy. Her life is stolen in a single, cruel moment but fate gives her what death denied: a second chance. Reborn in the past, before she ever said yes to his proposal, before she gave him her loyalty, her love... her power, Alira is no longer the devoted wife... She's the architect of vengeance. With every calculated step, she weaves a web of betrayal, seduction, and secrets. This time, she'll wear the dress not of a bride, but of a widow-to-be. And when the final match is lit, no one will be safe from the fire she’s come to unleash. In the ashes of the life they stole, she will build a funeral of flames.

"You were never her, Aria. You were just... there." Jason's words echo in my head as I stand in the back of the church, watching him mourn another woman on her sister's wedding day. Isabelle. The perfect dead girlfriend. The ghost I've been competing with for three years. I thought I could be enough. I thought love could grow where grief once lived. But when I find the evidence, when I see the hotel receipts, the text messages, the photos of Jason with Isabelle's sister Violet, I realize the truth. I was never the love story. I was the intermission. What I don't know yet is that nothing about my marriage was real. Not Jason's cruelty. Not Violet's affair. Not the stranger's rescue. They've all been playing a game, and I'm the prize they're willing to destroy each other for. When the truth comes out, when I discover why Isabelle really died and who's been pulling the strings, I'll have to decide: Do I let them destroy me, or do I burn their whole world down?

I loved Adriano Ferraro—yeah, that Don—for five freaking years. He wasn't just my fiancé; he was my anchor in a world where loyalty got tested, and weakness got you killed. We had it all mapped out—dreams, plans, a future we actually thought we owned. Until I lost our baby. I reached for him, shaking, desperate for anything. But comfort never came. Instead, it was her. His stepsister, propped up. "Don't buy her act. She's just fishing for attention—again." That snake smiled like she just won a prize for emotional torture, dripping venom while fanning the flames. And Adriano? He bought it. He turned away. In that moment, it hit me—I wasn't just grieving. I was completely alone. The kid I carried, the future I built in my head? Gone. And so was I. I walked out. On him. On the Ferraro Family I was stupid enough to think I could belong to. All I left behind was silence. Empty space where we used to be. Now Adriano's drowning in regret, but it's too damn late. The life we should've had, the love we should've built? Dust. And her? The stepsister who ruined it all? She's paying for every lie.

Stanley Hamilton and I were basically Southport's favorite hate-watch couple. For Elodie—my oh-so-perfect adopted sister—he wrecked my company and had my parents thrown in prison. I, in turn, drove Elodie to her death, making him watch as she jumped off a rooftop. Our forced marriage? Just a slow ride from mutual disgust straight into mutual destruction. Then came the car explosion. Stanley, who'd hated me forever, still used his last breath to shove me out of the blast. "Vivienne Weston, one lifetime tangled with you is enough. If there's a next one, let's never meet." He touched the tattoo of Elodie's name on his neck, smiling faintly as the flames took him. After he died, I wandered through life half-dead myself until illness finished the job. When I woke up in the past, staring at two betrothal contracts, I didn't hesitate—I picked the guy everyone swore was insane. Stanley and my dad? I handed them right back to Elodie. This time, I wanted no meetings, no memories, no strings. Ever again.