Pitou Death

Dalawang buwan ng mamatay ako, napagtanto ng mga magulang ko na nakalimutan nila akong iuwi mula sa lakad nila. Naiinis na sumimangot at sumigaw ang ama ko. “Dapat siyang maglakad mag-isa mismo. Kailangan ba niya talaga itong palakihin?” Ang kapatid ko, na mayabang, ay binuksan ang chat namin at nagpadala ng emoji, kasama ng message. [Mamatay ka na dyan. Sa ganitong paraan. Kami ni Scarlet ang maghahati sa pamana ni Lola.] Wala siyang natanggap na sagot. Habang malamig ang ekspresyon, nagsalita ang nanay ko, “Sabihin mo sa kanya na kapag nagpakita siya sa kaarawan ng lola niya sa tamang oras, hahayaan ko na ang pagtulak niya kay Scarlet sa tubig.” Hindi sila naniniwala na hindi ako nakaalis ng gubat. Matapos maghukay ng malalim, nakita nila sawakas ang mga buto ko.

I knew that my father did not like me since I was young. When I wanted to commit suicide to end the pain caused by my illness, he was celebrating another child’s birthday. He hated my mother and me alongside her. So, when I told him that I was sick, he did not believe me. “Is this your new tactic to get money from me?” No one believed that the daughter of the Powell family could die because she was too poor to pay the hospital fees. My father did not believe it either. However, when he saw my dead body, the famous actor who hated his daughter actually went insane.

Five years after I died, Delia—my wife, a doctor—tried to dump her first love's new mess on me again. She stormed into my old place, waving some fake agreement with my name on it, but all she found was dust. Panicking, she ran downstairs and cornered the shop owner. "William?" he said. "He's been dead five years. Heard the family of that malpractice case found him. Stabbed him up bad." Delia laughed it off, like the guy was making it up. "So what if he got suspended? He's still sulking over that?" She rolled her eyes. "Tell him this—he's got three days. If he doesn't show, I'm cutting off his sister's cancer treatment." She muttered something ugly, slammed the door, and left. The shop owner just watched her go, shaking his head. "There's no sister left," he said quietly. "She died years ago... couldn't pay for treatment."

When the fire broke out, I called my husband, Hector. He didn't answer. Instead, he ran straight into the flames—to save my sister, Emma. They held each other, clinging to life, while I was trapped in the basement, watching my calls go ignored until all hope burned out. Afterward, Emma played innocent, twisting everything. She told him, "Hector, don't blame Sienna. She didn't leave me on purpose... she was just scared." Her lie made me the villain, and everyone bought it. Fueled by hatred, Hector spat, "She's so vicious—why didn't that fire just take her?" Three months later, the police found my body.

Today was supposed to be my marking ceremony. Instead, it became my funeral. Eliza had run me down with her car. She dragged my broken body into the storage room. "Stay here. When the ceremony is over, I'll let you out." She wanted to take my place, to be marked by Greyson, as his Luna. Greyson loved me. But his family could never allow their precious Alpha son to marry a lowborn Omega. "Millie," murmured, his voice thick with guilt. "I have to obey my family and give them an heir first -- with Eliza. You know... she's Alpha blood. "Once the pup turns one, I'll marry you." And I marked the days one by one, counting down to our forever. He claimed it was a mere duty, but but their feverish nights suggested she was his preferred addiction. A month later, Eliza was pregnant. Ten months after that, she bore the Alpha's heir. Another twelve agonizing months dragged by, and finally, it was the day he was supposed to claim me. But now, I was lying here on the floor, my body shattered. Greyson's voice cut through the phone, sharp and impatient. "Why aren't you here yet? Haven't you been desperate to marry me?" "I've let the pup's birthday incident slide -- are you still going to sulk about it?" "If you don't show up, I'll mark Eliza instead." I wasn’t coming, Greyson. I couldn’t -- I was already dead. But he believed I was simply having a tantrum.

All of Novatia knew that Sophie Rossi was the foster daughter Soren Lucas doted on the most. However, on her 18th birthday, he punished her according to the family's rules. It was because Soren discovered Sophie had stolen his most precious Browning pistol and inserted it into her body. Three years later, Sophie returned with her body covered in wounds. She no longer loved Soren. However, Soren's fiancée, Isabella Johansson, refused to let her off. "You slut! How dare you desire your own Don?!" Sophie tolerated the cursing and beatings, only to discover the horrible truth. She 'committed suicide' by jumping off the cruise ship during Soren's wedding. Soren went crazy as he hugged her corpse.

The night before my wedding, my mom got into a car accident—she needed a blood transfusion, fast. Her blood type was rare. Mine matched. I was pregnant, but I didn't think twice. I donated. While I was bleeding out, losing my baby, my fiancé, Joffrey Habsburg, and his brother—my so-called childhood friend—Mateo, were busy holding Nancy's hand during her cosmetic surgery. I begged Joffrey to save my mom. Only then did he bother to pick up a scalpel. When it was over, he said, "Surgery failed. She's gone." Two days later, I overheard Nancy purring through the door, wrapped around the Habsburg brothers. "Mateo really is a racer—he hit that old hag dead on. And Joffrey? You were amazing too, making sure she didn't survive the surgery. Thanks to you both, I got Lori's blood for my operation."

I leave my boyfriend without a word when he's at his lowest. He later makes a name for himself and forces me to marry him. Our relationship goes viral online and becomes the subject of everyone's envy. They all say he's desperately in love with me, but he later sleeps with other women in our bed. I fall from grace and become the city's biggest laughingstock. I don't cause a scene. Instead, I move into the guest bedroom and leave the master bedroom for them. He's furious as he grips my neck roughly. He bites my lips, drawing blood. "Why aren't you mad?" Because I'm sick. I don't have the time to wait for him to see the error of his ways anymore.

After a venomous snake bites me, my husband, Daniel Dawson, injects the only antivenom into my adopted sister, Grace Winton. Before I black out, I see my parents, Daniel, and my son, Ethan Dawson, all gathered around Grace, while I lie alone on the grass, completely ignored. When I come to, my colleague shakes his head and tells me the toxin has already spread. Within 48 hours, my body will begin to rot from the inside, and I'll die in unbearable pain. I give up the conservative plan and swallow a potent painkiller instead. Over the next two days, I transfer the hospital my grandfather gave me and every asset in my name to Grace. I divorce Daniel and place both his and Ethan's hands into Grace's. When I put Grace's name on the amyotrophic lateral sclerosis treatment protocol I've spent five years developing, they finally smile, hold my hand, and tell me we're finally a real family. I stay silent and only smile at them. I wonder what their faces will look like two days later when they see my body.

My mate, Alpha Logan, was at the Sanctuary preparing to mark me when he was called away. “The mating doesn’t have to be on a full moon,” he said. “Something urgent has come up.” He left me alone in the sacred Sanctuary on the night of the full moon, all because his human friend, Lila, had been injured by a rogue wolf while hiking. A moment later, his text came through: [Lila needs a special serum. I have to get her to Canada within 48 hours. Let's reschedule the mating ceremony.] I’d lost count of how many times Logan had chosen Lila over me. But this time, I wasn’t going to get jealous, throw a fit, and ultimately cave like I always did. Because Logan has no idea that if we don't complete our mating bond by tomorrow, I'm going to die.