Purple Screen

Just after stepping out of the shower, I received a private message from my so-called uncle, Hank Shephard—a distant relative I barely ever spoke to. "Francis, that new car you posted looks impressive. Perfect for William's wedding!" I hadn't even figured out how to reply to that out-of-nowhere comment when another message popped up. "Your cousin William is getting married next month. Just treat your car as his wedding gift." The entitlement in his tone made my head hurt. I didn't bother arguing and closed the chat window. Apparently, he did not think there was anything wrong with what he had said. Messages kept coming. "Don't worry, your uncle won't let you suffer a loss. "When it's your turn to get married, I'll have William drive that car as your lead wedding car. It'll make you look good." I stared at the screen in silence. That was the moment I realized—Some people don't just feel entitled to your belongings. They believe your life exists to serve theirs.

At three in the morning, I stare at the unknown transaction record on my phone screen, my fingertips turning cold. The record is for a payment of 2980 dollars, made for an executive suite at the Wisteria. The time of payment was 8:00 pm last night. My husband, Tristan Griffin, is a detective. He was on the night shift last night. I clutch my phone, my knuckles turning white as I text Tristan, "I just saw your credit card bill for a hotel stay last night. What's up with that?" His reply is instant. "Our team had to work overtime at the last minute, so they put us up at the hotel. I forgot to tell you about it." I scan the text and sputter. The Wisteria is located in the western region of the city, which is on the other end from where his squad is stationed. I don't press him for more details and click on the bank app on my phone. Having found the vendor's address through the payment record, I sent it to my best friend, Rowena Sheffield, who works as a private detective. She replies instantly with an "OK" emoji and follows up with, "Give me a second. I'll find out everything you want in a jiffy!"

When I see someone asking for help in an assignment related to the entrepreneur course on the college forum, I join the group chat using a student account. I even help refine several financial models and market strategies because of my job's nature. Everyone in the group chat is excited, to say the least. Every day, they keep calling me a genius while urging me to improve the details of the whole assignment. Two months later, the assignment's quality is very close to perfection. But the group chat suddenly goes silent. I scroll through the chat history out of curiosity, only to find out that the students have already created another group chat. "That senior isn't an official teammate of ours. Let's not tell her about us using this assignment for an upcoming competition." "Precisely! Our names are the only ones on the list! She'd better not steal the credit during tomorrow's finals!" "With one less person involved, we each get an additional tens of thousands of dollars' worth of rewards!" As I look at the screen, I just let out a soft chuckle. It appears that this isn't an assignment at all. But unfortunately for these students, I happen to be one of the judges sitting at the judging station tomorrow.

When I went for my prenatal checkup, I filled in my mafia husband Enrico Salvatore's information in the spouse column. However, the doctor told me, "The system shows no record of you ever being married. You're unmarried." I froze, unable to believe it. "How is that possible? We got married five years ago. Please check again." The doctor pulled up the system records again, and only one line appeared on the screen: [Marriage Registration: None.] At first, I thought the hospital had made a mistake. Then, I overheard Enrico talking to one of his men. "Isabella's the only one in my heart. I'll give her everything else she wants. But Luisa gave me a daughter. For the sake of the family's bloodline, I have to register our marriage and give her that status. Isabella can never find out about the registration." At that moment, I finally understood. The small wedding five years ago was nothing but a cover. We never registered. There was no legal marriage. Even the child I was carrying had no legal standing. It was all an elaborate lie he had crafted. Since none of this ever truly belonged to me, I would just leave.

A kidnapper's gun was pressed to Lena's temple and mine, the whole scene streaming live online. "Nolan," the kidnapper said, "your wife, Donna, or your first love. Only one of them walks away alive. Choose." On the other side of the screen, my husband, Don Nolan Winston, head of the Winston family, did not hesitate for even a second. "Let Lena go. As for that woman, do whatever you want with her." I looked into the camera and laughed until tears ran down my face. For seven years, I had stood by him as he rose from the Winston family's illegitimate son to the first Don of the Italvia mafia. I had taken knives for him, drunk with him, even lost a child along the way. So in the end, in his eyes, I had been nothing more than a pawn he could discard at any moment. "Did you hear that?" the kidnapper sneered at me. I turned and ran toward the cliff. Facing the camera, I spoke my final words. "Nolan, I'm giving this life back to you. We're even now."

To help my sterile Alpha mate Marcus Blackwood conceive an heir, I had used many hormone injections. My belly was covered with purple bruise marks from all the needle punctures. But after our son Connor was born, he was very weak and even ran much slower than the other pups. Marcus looked at Conner coldly and snarled at me, "It's all your rotten bloodline! You've brought shame to the Blackwood pack!" Later, he held his mistress Scarlett's pup—a three-year-old pup who was strong enough to beat an eight-year-old pup—and publicly rewarded Scarlett with a new Porsche. But when my five-year-old Connor accidentally knocked over his milk, Marcus kicked him in the chest and called him worthless. He even locked my son, who was afraid of the dark, alone in the drafty woodshed at the countryside estate during winter. Every day, Connor got only one bowl of spoiled food, until he starved to death. When I found Connor, his small body was already ice-cold, still clutching the family portrait I had drawn for him in his little hands. After that, Marcus tortured me to death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at our engagement party. Marcus publicly took Scarlett's hand in front of everyone. "I’m breaking off my engagement with Hazel Whitmore! She is just a foolish she-wolf who can only birth idiots! Scarlett is the one I love!" I realized that he was also reborn. He wanted to humiliate me in front of everyone again. But he didn't know that without my exclusive genetic healing technology, he would remain childless for this entire lifetime.

Everyone thought Isabelle Monroe was just a washed-up actress clinging to a loveless marriage. Her husband cheated. Her own son called the other woman “Mommy.” Still, she smiled through it all, desperately trying to fix her perfect family. Until the day both her husband and son told her she was a nuisance and they didn’t want her anymore. Thrown out of her own home, humiliated and replaced, Isabelle walks away with nothing but her pride. But just when the world erased her name, he appeared. Riven Thorne, a powerful, enigmatic and far too familiar man offers her comfort, a contract, and a cold little girl who won’t speak to anyone but her. He gives Isabelle another chance. Not just at motherhood... but at revenge, fame, and love. Now she’s back on screen, headlines are begging for her name, and the same people who mocked her are clawing to be on her side. She tells herself it’s all pretend… The husband. The marriage. But then… Her new daughter clings to her hand. Her son cries and calls her “Mommy” again. And her fake husband starts feeling all too real. Isabelle starts to wonder— Is this fate’s way of rewriting her story?

I waited for Alex for over five years. I endured the whispers of the clan, the mocking gazes, the judgment from his family who never thought I was good enough. Still, I waited—because I loved him. I believed in him. I trusted that he would choose me in the end. But the truth shattered me. One evening, I saw his laptop left open. And on the screen—countless photos of Elsa. His childhood sweetheart. His first love. It felt like a knife twisting in my chest. While I was drowning in problems, silently begging for his support, he was smiling by her side. All those years I gave him... all that waiting… I got nothing. So I left. Broken. Exhausted. Done pretending I was okay. I traveled far from our pack, seeking solitude under the excuse of pack relocation. But the truth was, I was trying to stitch myself back together—one breath, one step, one bitter tear at a time.But now… he’s gone mad looking for me. Why, Alex? Why do you search for me now, after crushing me so completely? When I stood by you, you looked past me. Now that I’ve finally let go… Why do you care?

I died on the day I won the Global Medical Doctorate Award. Fresh from celebrating the sixteenth birthday of my younger sister, my parents, brother, and my fiancé finally returned home, but it was three hours after my death. My family photos were beaming with happiness on social media, while I laid in the suffocating basement drenched in blood. Before I died, I had struggled to slide my tongue across my phone screen in a desperate attempt to call for help. My parents and brother had blocked my number. Only my fiancé answered my call. The moment his voice came through, he snapped, "Winona, Winnie's sixteenth birthday is important. Stop trying to hijack attention with your pathetic excuses. Enough with the theatrics!" It murdered my last spark of survival. In that electronic death rattle, my heart flatlined. The 100th time they chose her. The 100th time they abandoned me for her. But it was also the last time. They thought I had ran way to get their attention again, and that if they taught me a harsh lesson, I would come crawling back pathetically. But not this time. Because I didn't leave home. I had been lying in the basement of my house.

Dahil sa bankruptcy ng kanyang ama, sapilitang ipinakasal si Avery Tate ng kanyang stepmother sa isnag bigshot. Ngunit may catch-ang bigshot na ito ay si Elliot Foster- na kasalukuyang commatose. Sa mata ng lahat, ilang araw nalang ang nalalabi at magiging balo na siya at palalayasin din ng pamilya. Pero parang nagbibiro ang tadhana nang isang araw bigla nalang nagising si Elliot.Galit na galit ito nang malaman ang tungkol sa arranged marriage at pinagbantaan siya nito na papatayin nito kung sakali mang magka anak sila. “Ako mismo ang papatay sa kanila!”Pagkalipas ng apat na taon, muling bumalik si Avery sakanilang lugar, kasama ang kanilang fraternal twins - isang babae at isang lalaki. Itinuro niya ang mukha ni Elliot sa TV screen at sinabi sa mga bata, “Wag na wag kayong lalapit sa lalaking yan. Sinabi niyang papatayin niya kayo.” Noong gabing ‘yun, nahack ang computer ni Elliot at may humamon sakanya - isa sa mga kambal- na patayin sila. “Hulihin mo ako kung kaya mo, *sshole!”