Quotes Bittersweet

When I went to reissue my mate certificate, the Werewolf Affairs Division told me, "Your mate certificate is a forgery. We have no record of your registration." I stared at the clerk, unable to believe what I was hearing. "But Sam and I registered five years ago. That's impossible. Could you please check again?" The clerk gave me a look before double-checking the files. "We found Alpha Sam's record. But the registered mate… isn't you." My voice trembled. "Then who is Sam's legal mate?" The clerk didn't hesitate. "Lily." I gripped the back of the chair, white-knuckled, just to keep myself upright. Until the clerk had spoken that name, I'd still held on to hope. Maybe it was a clerical error. A mix-up. But of all people, it had to be Lily, Sam's childhood friend. And suddenly, everything started to make sense. In five years of being Sam's mate, he had never marked me. We'd only held a mating ceremony—no certificate, no legal bond. I had given up everything for that ceremony, poured all my hope and love into it, believing I was his, only to find the certificate was fake. The five years I'd thought were mine—our happiness—had all been a lie, crafted and upheld by appearances. If none of it was truly mine, then there's only one thing left for me to do. Leave.

At the banquet hall, I refuse to let my adopted twin pups eat the walnut cake. Ivana Lamont—the childhood sweetheart of my mate, Luther Hardwick—chokes up dramatically. She cries accusingly, "Yara, they may not be yours biologically, but you can't abuse them! Why won't you even let them have a slice of cake?" I'm just about to explain that the twins are allergic to nuts, but they point at me and complain in aggrieved voices. "Mommy often doesn't give us food. We never have enough to eat!" With that, I'm unceremoniously driven out of the banquet hall by the host. When I go to look for my mate to talk about it, I accidentally overhear his conversation with a friend. "Alpha Luther, it's been eight years. Are you still not going to mark Yara?" "There's no rush. I'll wait until the kids are a little older. We love each other very much, so it's fine even if I don't mark her." His friend responds disapprovingly, "You've been hiding from her that the twins are actually your and Ivana's pups. Aren't you afraid she may leave in anger if she finds out?" Luther shakes his head and replies with certainty, "She won't. Yara is an orphan, so she has no family. If she leaves me, where else can she go?" The ugly truth causes me to freeze on the spot. It turns out the pups I've loved for eight years were born to my mate and another she-wolf. What I thought was a happy life is nothing but a cold, heartless deception! I touch my belly, thinking of the pup I just conceived. My tears fall like a relentless downpour. In the shadows, I say inaudibly, "You're wrong, Luther. In fact, I found my birth parents three days ago. I just haven't had the chance to tell you. But it doesn't matter now because you don't need to know about that anymore." I have Luther sign the mate bond dissolution agreement before finalizing my withdrawal from the Sharp Teeth pack. Two days later, I give both my mate and the pups to Ivana. With the pup that Luther has never known or laid his eyes on, I disappear from his world forever.

The two childhood sweethearts swear that they'll marry no one but me, but they stand by as my dog of ten years gets killed in a car accident. I cradle the dog's mangled body, but no tears fall. Dante Battaglia stares at me in disgust and asks, "Why did you bring it home? Don't you know Anna's allergic to it?" Dario Battaglia immediately rushes over to snatch away the body in my arms. "This is a damned jinx. Get rid of it!" The Battaglia siblings and I are childhood friends. Dante became the Don, and Dario the Consigliere. I'm the precious princess in the two brothers' eyes, but everything changes with Anna's arrival. After burying the dog myself, I reply to the email inviting me to join an international classified project. The email reads, "Ms. Julia Costanza, we'd like to know if you're willing to participate in this institute's ten-year-long classified project. Upon joining, your personal information will be sealed for a decade, and you will be prohibited from contacting the outside world." I replied, "Yes, I agree."

When Eric Sutton—my charming CEO husband—found out I handed a million-dollar project to his assistant Vivien Cheney, he figured his three months of radio silence had finally broken me. Suddenly, he's all, "Let's go to Iceland for our honeymoon!" Vivien heard and threw a fit. Threatened to quit. Classic. Eric, who treated her like royalty, freaked out. After three days of begging, he bailed on the trip—said it was for "work"—then handed her my ticket. Later, he shrugged it off. "Romance's petty. Work comes first. You're my wife. You get it, right?" Right. I just stared at Vivien's new post: a couples selfie—cheek to cheek, hands shaped like a heart. I didn't say a word. Just nodded. Eric thought I was finally playing the role: calm, supportive, mature. Promised an even better honeymoon when he got back. Too bad I'd already quit. Too bad he'd already signed the divorce papers. We were done.

Waking up hungover next to my arch-nemesis – the city's most notorious fuckboy? Worst. Morning. Ever. I handled the walk of shame with icy dignity, but fate had a bigger curveball: one month later, two pink lines. My baby. My rules. His involvement? Zero. My flawless plan hit a snag when morning sickness ambushed me in the office restroom. He walked in. His eyes locked onto my still-flat stomach, darkening with something dangerous. Before I could blink, he had me pinned against the cold tile wall. "Who's the father?" he growled. I met his glare with a frosty smirk. "Wouldn't you like to know? Definitely not you." Then it happened: a hot tear hit my neck. His voice cracked, raw and desperate. "Don't... don't leave me. Please." Me: ...Dude. Seriously? THIS IS YOURS!

On the day Raina Whitmore makes the Helios Rich List, she smiles for the cameras and declares, "I wouldn't be here without my secretary, Kieran Vale. He's the most important person in my life." While she confesses her love in the interview, I lie in a hospital bed, worn out and fading. I'm her husband, the one who's held her company together all these years. But I don't get a single word of thanks. My daughter, Talia Hart, even looks at me with pure disdain. "Dad, you've held Mom and Uncle Kieran back long enough. It's time you let go and let them be together." Rage surges through me. My chest tightens, and everything goes black. When I open my eyes, I'm back 30 years earlier, standing in the Whitmore residence to choose my fiancee. This time, I don't hesitate. I skip right over Raina and choose her aunt, Elara Whitmore.

"I always thought I had found the perf 'Once she gives birth, I’ll divorce her.' 'When I have sex with her, I cover her head with a pillow because the other side of the pillow has your picture It turns out, I was just surrogate tool, and all his affection was fake. So, I When I started a new life, Gu Songqian came knocking on my door: 'Actually, I love both of you equally. From now on, you’ll live on the west side, and she’ll live on the east side, and you won’t disturb each other.'"

After another one of Winifred Clayton's dramatic suicide threats, Edgar Snider secretly starts a relationship with her behind my back under one condition—I can never find out about it. He says, "I can be with you, but Wanda is everything to me. Whatever happens between us, she can never know." Winifred pretends to agree. Then, she sends me a video of her and Edgar living together, my son included. "No matter what happens, Edgar will never leave me. So stop deluding yourself—you were never a match for me." What she doesn't know is that I never plan to compete. In just one month, I'll be on a flight to Avernia, gone from Edgar's life for good.

"Take off your clothes. Spread your legs." "...What? Why?" The voice cut through the silence, and my heart seized. I instinctively covered my stomach. It was the first anniversary of my marriage to Alessandro, the Don of the Santoro family. I was pregnant and had wanted to surprise him. But his secretary, Liliana, had blindfolded me and brought me to this unfamiliar place. "Donna, stop playing the victim. Seducing men is your specialty, isn't it?" "Tonight, in this underground auction house, you are the final item on the block." A chill shot down my spine, and my voice trembled. "Are you insane? I'm the Donna of the Santoro family! I'm carrying his heir! Alessandro will kill you..." Liliana scoffed and ripped off my blindfold. Blinding lights bore down on me. I squinted, and gradually, a man sitting in the VIP section came into view... It was Alessandro! I stared in disbelief as he slowly extinguished the cigar in his hand. "Pregnant? Whose bastard are you carrying?" "It's yours!" I cried out. "Liar!" He raised his hand, and a report was tossed at my feet. The bold letters "PROBABILITY OF PATERNITY: 0%" burned my eyes. He came closer and gripped my chin. "Liliana was right. Women like you are rotten to the core." "My love was never enough to satisfy your greed." "And I, Alessandro, will never raise another man's bastard." Later, he finally learned the child was his. For the first time, the man who was always so composed, arrogant, and in control knelt before me, his voice trembling. "Celeste, I'm begging you... even if you can't forgive me, please, let me make it up to you." But I felt nothing for him anymore.

I was the true-born Luna heir, mistakenly switched at birth, while another had been raised in my place. When I was thirteen, my birth pack found me, bringing me home after a lifetime of being misplaced. But instead of the happiness I deserved, I was met with nothing but betrayal. My birth parents favored their adopted daughter over me. My destined Alpha was stolen by my so-called sister. The Beta mate who saved me from despair turned out to be part of a carefully laid scheme. Unloved by my own parents. Provoked by my sister. Abandoned by my Alpha. Deceived by my Beta. Happiness was never meant for me—so why should any of you have it? Since I can't have it, I choose to leave;