No Exit

Namaku Olin. Aku suka mengunjungi cafe seminggu sekali. Di suatu sore terjadilah pertemuan tanpa sengaja dengan laki-laki yang membawaku dalam jurang kehidupan selanjutnya. Dan aku harus sesegera mungkin menyelamatkan diri sebelum aku semakin terperosok lebih dalam.

By month four of my IVF treatments, my husband's childhood sweetheart posted a picture of herself cradling her baby bump. The caption? [Having a happy ending with my first love. A family of three.] And there he was—his hand in the shot, making a cutesy heart with hers. Oh, and the cherry on top? He was still wearing his wedding ring.

The night before the annual gala, my wife promised me a big surprise. But the very next day, she publicly quintupled the marketing manager's bonus. To me, she just gave a curt nod and a half-hearted "keep up the good work". When I questioned her decision, she brushed it off casually. "You've racked up some impressive wins in court. I'll give you that, but let's be real. Without Kevin hyping you up, you'd never have hit top-tier status. Plus, what's mine is yours. Why nitpick over a bonus?" The room buzzed with anticipation of my explosion. But I held my tongue till the gala ended. The next morning, I marched into her office and slapped my resignation letter down on her desk. "Might as well tack my salary onto Kevin's. Consider it my wedding present to you." She erupted, branding me as narrow-minded and dooming me to the unemployment line. She conveniently overlooked my track record as a powerhouse attorney. For that alone, elite firms were lining up to recruit me.

After my family went bankrupt, I begged my fiancé Ryan to pump cash into our business. He didn't just refuse. He turned around and got engaged to someone else. When I was at the end of my rope, Ethan Brooks stepped up, tossing all his savings into my family's mess. Sadly, we missed our shot, and our company crashed. My parents couldn't handle it. They jumped off a building. Even so, I was thankful to Ethan and married him to pay him back. Three years later, at Lily Carter's birthday party, I overheard her talking to him. "You tanked the Harper family so I could win that bid. Won't Kelly blame you?" "For you, I'd give up everything. I'll just make it up to her." My blood ran cold as I realized our marriage was all a lie. The one he loved was Lily all along. I turned and left. If he was that hooked, I'd set him free.

My husband, Liam, got his terminally ill ex-girlfriend, Chloe, pregnant. He said it was to grant her dying wish of becoming a mother. On the day she gave birth, Liam's sister, Isabella, hired a security firm to guard the hospital, claiming it was to prevent me from causing a scene. Isabella stood by Chloe's bedside. "Don't worry, I have people posted at the entrance. If Ava dares to show up and make trouble, we'll have her thrown out immediately." Liam, seeing I hadn't come, breathed a sigh of relief. "Chloe, just focus on delivering our baby safely. Don't worry about anything else." He truly believed that since he was only fulfilling his dying ex's last wish, I would never be so unreasonable as to make a fuss. Looking at the tiny, rosy infant in his arms, he sent me a text: "Darling, I did this for you. I had her carry a child for us, so you could finally be a mother." He thought that as long as I accepted it all, this child was my ultimate reward. But what he didn't know was that I had just surrendered my residency. In one week, I would be in Kenya, working as a volunteer on a project of biomedical research. It was meant to be a final goodbye—a world away from Liam, forever. But he was searching for me like a madman, pleading for me to return.

I chase my six-year-old daughter out of the house on a cold winter day. I cut her new clothes to pieces and dirty her dainty little face with mud. Then, I give her all my savings. She looks at me tearfully and reaches out for me, wanting me to hold her. However, I harden my heart and push her away, saying, "Leave! Go to Bowen Group and look for their CEO, Logan Bowen. Show him my death certificate and your DNA test—he'll take you in." She sobs while looking at me. "Don't you want me anymore, Mommy? Let's go look for Daddy together." After a brief silence, I say, "I can't go with you. I lied to him back then to have you." Yes, I'm a liar. I orchestrated everything from meeting Logan, dating him, to ultimately leaving him with his child in my womb. Even the death certificate I've given my daughter is fake. From beginning to end, I've lied to him about everything except our daughter.

Despite a decade of marriage, Simon never once shared my bed, claiming that he had pledged himself to ascetic practices and that it was beneath him. I thought that he suffered from some shameful ailment and guarded his secret like a devoted fool, until my birthday, when I came home to find him entangled with a brothel worker before the floor-length mirror. When I lunged forward in rage, he drove a shard of that broken mirror straight through my heart. When I awoke, I was gripping my phone, its screen illuminating a message Simon had just sent: [I’ll still give you a lavish wedding, but the marriage certificate? That belongs to her.]

Fedora Smith was done with love. Finished. Buried. Betrayal had ripped out her heart and torched it—her boyfriend of four years and her best friend of twenty-five caught pants down on the very anniversary sheets she gifted him. And their excuses? “You’re not attractive anymore.” “You took too long to marry him.” Fine. If love was a game, she was rewriting the rules. Now, she runs The Bridal Fix, an elite agency providing fake marriages for a steep price—rent-a-bride services for men needing to fool their families, secure an inheritance, or stage the perfect breakup. Fifteen weddings, fifteen divorces—no strings, no mess. Just business. Until Judah Carlstone. He hires her like the rest—one contract, one wedding, one payday. But Judah asks too many questions. Looks at her too long. And when he smirks and says— "Tell me, Fedora… how does it feel to say ‘I do’ and not mean it?" For the first time in years, she has no answer. Because this was never supposed to feel real.

Two years after we marry, my husband moves his sister and her family into our marital home. The four of them settle down and refuse to leave. So, I quit both my jobs. I laze around at home all day and splurge on various things. I have so many parcels delivered that they pile up by the door. Occasionally, I ask my husband and his sister for allowance. When the management office sends someone to chase for our maintenance fee, my husband breaks down so loudly that everyone in the building can hear him. He asks me whether I've lost my mind—who will support the family if I don't work? How will we survive without money? Am I going to allow our family to starve? So, it turns out he does know that we'll starve without anyone generating income. Why does he and his sister stay at home and plot to take away all my money, then?

Cold and proud to all, Beamon Slade, Northarch's strongest Alpha, reserves his gentleness solely for me. Everyone knows that I'm his Luna. But today, his first love is infected with deadly wolfsbane and on the brink of death. He hands me a herbal pill that can seal memories and temporarily remove the mate mark. "Eiro won't last another three days, Swan. "Could you give me three days to fulfill her dream of becoming a Luna through a symbolic marking ceremony? I won't hurt you. This pill temporarily severs the bond and makes you forget me. "When the ceremony ends three days later, take the antidote and you'll remember everything. We'll get back together." Looking at his calm, gentle expression, I silently swallow the pill without hesitation. He has no idea, but I crafted the pill with my own hands. There's no such thing as an antidote. Three days from now, I'll completely forget him. All our embraces, vows, marks, and his past gentleness will vanish with the wind.