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I train so hard that even in my sleep, I recite medical formulas. At long last, victory is mine! I am the champion of the Healers' Competition. But just as they place the trophy in my hands, my twin sister, Sasha Flanders, strides onto the stage and snatches it away. With brazen conviction, she declares, "I'm the true champion! My sister swapped the competitor's information to steal this honor from me!" The audience gasps in an uproar. Before my stunned eyes, the judges revoke my title on the spot. I don't yet realize that this competition is no ordinary contest—it is the Alpha King Leonard Muller's secret trial, one that is meant to select his future Luna Queen. Rumor paints him as monstrous—hideous of face, bloodthirsty in nature, and treats women as nothing more than breeding machines. It is said this is why he has never taken a mate. His summons arrived this very night, commanding Sasha to attend the coronation ceremony as Luna Queen. My Beta fiance, Timothy Newsom, turns ashen with rage. The next day, Sasha comes to flaunt herself before me, her neck freshly marked, carrying Timothy's scent. "Oh, my poor sister. Your precious fiance marked me. What will you do now? You're turning 25 in three days. By our pack's law, if no one claims you, you'll be thrown to the impotent, deranged, and broken wolves no one else will have. You'll be worse than trash." Her shrill laughter cracks in my ears, squeezing the breath from my chest. But I will not let that break me. I went straight to my parents. "If Sasha dares not to be Luna Queen… then let me take her place."

My husband died unexpectedly, and my mother-in-law adopted a newborn boy. She said she wanted to keep this child by her side as a reminder of my husband. Therefore, I raised him as my own child. Later, when he grew up, I gave him the company with peace of mind. The first thing my son did after taking power was to have someone lock me up in the basement and torture me. He said, "If it weren't for you, I wouldn’t have been separated from my parents all these years." At the moment of my death, my husband, who had supposedly passed away for many years, appeared with his first love in his arms. "Sophia, how does it feel to be cheated for more than ten years? Fortunately, you raised a son for me so that we can live happily without you." Angered to death, I could only watch the three of them. When I opened my eyes again, I returned to the day when my husband died unexpectedly.

The first time I lived, my sister and I found two dragon eggs. The black one pulsed with raw, untamed power. My sister, Isabella, claimed it without a second thought. The white one was left for me. A cracked, forgotten thing. It held only a whisper of magic. I took it out of pity. Within a year, the black dragon shattered his shell and emerged a man so beautiful it was a curse. He became Isabella's devoted weapon, his power forging her path to godhood. Meanwhile, the white egg fed on me. I poured everything I had into my white egg. My magic, my money, my soul. For ten long years, it gave me nothing. Everyone said to abandon it. But I couldn’t. I was an orphan, ignored by my sister. I just wanted a companion. But as the dark plague swept the lands, the egg I'd nurtured for a decade hatched overnight—while I was dying, he soared past me to save Isabella. He could have hatched years ago. Could have been human all along. But he chose Isabella. He mistook her for his savior. Then I was back to the day it all began. This time, Isabella lunged for the white egg first, afraid I'd take it. I slung my worn satchel of herbs over my shoulder. Turned my back on them both. "You can have them both," I said calmly. "I choose myself." This life, I swore I would have nothing to do with Adrian. But now, he's the one filled with regret, willing to give his own life just to have me look at him one more time.

On the night of our anniversary, I had prepared a new set of lingerie for my Mafia husband Joey, but he had prepared divorce papers for me instead. A Cuban cigar was clamped between his teeth, a look of pure entitlement on his face. "Adriana, we need to divorce. Vivian's father is a capo. If I marry her, my future's set." "Look, sweetheart, you're just a broken family's leftover daughter. You should be grateful I kept you around this long." "Once I have the family ring, maybe I'll throw you a few scraps, let you be my little side piece." Everyone expected the daughter of a fallen family to step aside for his ambition, to be the loyal dog I'd been for the past seven years. But that night, I made a deal with the devil. I accepted a match arranged by my family and married the true king of New York's underworld. I vanished from Joey's world completely. Three years later, I returned to New York on my husband's arm. We were there on family business. Dante was called away for something urgent, leaving me to wait for him at his private club. I never expected to run into Joey, the man I hadn't seen in three years. "That's enough, Adriana. Stop with the childish tantrums." "Our son Angelo's almost six. He needs care. I'm being generous, offering you a position as his nanny." I laughed. What was this idiot talking about? He was calling the most feared and revered Donna in all of New York a nanny?

I've been caught in a relationship with a divorced man for eight years. We've broken up and reconciled too many times to count. In the end, I tallied ninety-four breakups and five divorces between us. One more would make it an even hundred, but I'm too exhausted to continue this cycle. The first breakup happened when I was giving him my virginity. Halfway through, his ex-wife called asking him to pick up some bread, and he simply left. The fifth breakup occurred when he abandoned me, newly pregnant, on the highway to comfort his ex-wife who was having complications with her own pregnancy. I ended up in a car accident and miscarried. He arrived at the hospital with his clothes disheveled. Despite all the pain he caused me, I could never bring myself to truly leave him. Our most recent divorce happened for an equally absurd reason. His ex-wife and their child were participating in a family reality TV show that required them to appear as a complete family unit. To protect his ex-wife's public image, he divorced me yet again. When filming wrapped, he called to discuss remarrying. This time I refused, because I'm going to marry someone else.

Before my wedding, my vision which I lost after saving Bruce unexpectedly returned. Overjoyed, I hurried to share the wonderful news with him, but as I stepped into the living room, I froze. Bruce and my cousin, Kerry, were in a passionate embrace. "Bruce, the baby is perfectly healthy now. The doctor said we can sleep together again! Why don't we do it right here in the living room? Also, isn't it thrilling to do it here while Nancy is asleep in her room?" "Shut up! Don't joke about my wife like that!" Bruce snapped at her, but his reprimand was accompanied by a kiss. I stood there, watching in shock as their movements grew more intense and their breathing became heavier. Only then did I piece it all together. Their sudden shared enthusiasm for indoor workouts six months ago wasn't about fitness at all. Covering my mouth to stifle a sob, I turned back to my room and shut the door. I decided then and there: Bruce didn't need to know I had recovered. Reaching for my phone, I dialed my mother. "Mom, I'm not marrying Bruce anymore. I'll marry the comatose heir of the Blakes instead. I don't need Bruce in my life."

At the party for our first wedding anniversary, I hit the floor—face-first on a red carpet, gasping like a fish out of water. Carlo Pipino, my husband, had his arm draped around Gianna Verde, his childhood flame, sipping champagne and laughing. Gianna knew I was allergic to nuts. So, obviously, she bathed everything in hazelnut dressing. One bite and boom—my throat locked, my lungs lit up, and hives popped like confetti. I reached for my allergy meds—came up with a fistful of melted M&Ms instead. Gianna laughed when she saw my face. "Surprise! Carlo swapped your meds. Seriously, Siena, one nut? Dramatic much?" I slid off my chair, wheezing, while the crowd placed bets on how long my "performance" would last. "Carlo... my meds..." I croaked. "Please. I'm gonna die." He sighed, annoyed. "God, you're so dramatic. Why do women always play dead for attention? You know I love you. Just stop this show already." Right then, my heart shattered faster than my lungs could. I stopped begging. Hit the distress signal. Called my real family.

I was born blessed by the god of fortune. No matter where I work, I can close major deals while lying down asleep. The underboss of the Castellano mafia family discovers this secret. He shows up at my door personally and invites me to join as a consigliere in name only. He offers me a six-figure annual salary and chauffeur service. He even installs a special ten-foot-wide massage bed in my office just for sleeping. After I join the Castellano family, arms deals finalize one after another. Several stalled collaborations come back to life. The Castellano family's reputation climbs steadily. Until the boss' girlfriend shows up to inspect for the first time. She grabs a pair of scissors and, in front of everyone, shreds my mattress to pieces. "Useless! We don't pay you all this money to sleep! "Starting tomorrow, you're working as a bar hostess. And you'll be paid like one too." I rub my sleepy eyes and stare at her in confusion. Last night, to help the Castellano family finalize that casino operation rights contract, I didn't sleep a wink. I barely fall asleep, so how am I useless? The soldato beside her breaks into a sweat. "Signora, she's…" "Shut up!" she cuts him off arrogantly. "From now on, I'm the one in charge of the Castellano family!" Fine. Since there's no place for me here, I'll find somewhere else to sleep. I hear the rival family's boss is willing to give me an entire luxury estate.

My husband Bruno's goomah was pregnant with their second child. At the family dinner, he caressed his lover Ava's rounded belly. "This one will be a boy, the future heir to the Marino family. As my wife, it is your duty to raise him." This was the second time he had openly acknowledged one of his bastards. I didn't make a scene like I had before. I just calmly lifted my head and looked Bruno straight in the eye. Raucous laughter erupted from the family members around the table. "Remember last time, when she acted like a madwoman? Looks like she's finally learned her place." "The Rossi family's businesses have all been carved up. What can she do besides be an infertile trophy wife? She'll be kicked to the curb sooner or later." Bruno's face was expressionless, allowing them to hurl their insults at me. I fought back the tears burning my eyes and even managed a small smile. "Bruno, let's get a divorce." Bruno looked as if he'd heard the funniest joke in the world, his lips curling into a dismissive smirk. "Liliana, if you can come up with the hundred million dollars you owe this family, I'll sign the papers right now. Otherwise, stop making a scene." I didn't argue, and just dialed an encrypted number. "I accept the terms we discussed." A lazy laugh echoed from the other end of the line. "A hundred million? Merely the cost of a port. I can have it for you anytime, my princess."

Noah Lloyd has long since gotten sick of me—we dated for three years and have been married for another three. He uses divorce to threaten me. He wants me to give up the racing championship title I risked my life to win to please his new lover. He's caught off guard when I sign the divorce papers without hesitation and kick him to the curb. Later, he comes to me with a bouquet and the ring I've discarded. He also rents massive billboards to beg me to remarry him. Asher Princeton has someone turn off all the billboards. Then, he wraps an arm around my waist and whisks me away. "Haven't you asked around about me? How dare you propose to my wife?"