Quotes On Emotions

When my husband threatened me with divorce for the hundredth time, demanding I sacrifice myself for my sister, I did not cry or make a scene. I simply signed my name on the divorce papers and willingly handed over the man I had loved for ten years to my sister. A few days later, my sister spoke recklessly at a banquet and offended a powerful family. Once again, I stepped forward to take responsibility, bearing all the consequences in her place. When they later proposed that I become a test subject for my sister's drug research, I gladly accepted. Mom and Dad said I had finally grown into someone mature and responsible. Even my cold husband stood by my hospital bed and, for the first time in so long, gently stroked my cheek. He said tenderly, "Don't be afraid. The experiment won't be life-threatening. When you get out, I'll cook you a big meal." However, he did not know that regardless of whether the experiment was dangerous or not, he did not have to wait for me because I was already dying from a terminal illness.

It was Christmas Eve. Once again, my parents left me alone at home, chasing triple pay at work. However, after twenty years of the same lonely holiday, I couldn’t take it anymore. I didn’t want to sit in the quiet house by myself again, so I packed up some sandwiches and went to them. What I didn’t expect was to see them stepping out of a luxury car, arms linked with a boy who looked about my age, laughing like they didn’t have a care in the world, heading straight into a five-star hotel. “Mom, Dad, is it okay to leave Suzie all alone at home like that?” My mom waved it off and said, “It’s fine. She’s used to it.” My dad just brushed it off with a chuckle. “She’s nothing like you. You're our real treasure.” Upon hearing that, I turned and walked away. They'd been pretending to be broke all these years, lying to me about working overtime, about scraping by. Well, fine. If they don’t want me, I’m done wanting them, too.

I used to be the one and only girl spoiled by my family. But everything changed on my 18th birthday, when my father adopted a she-wolf orphan named Sophia from the Werewolf Charity House. My elder brother, Alex, started to love her more and began to look down on me. My mate, John, who had grown up with me, liked her and ignored me. Even my father said that Sophia, an orphan, was ten thousand times better than his own birth daughter. It was my graduation day from Werewolf University. But instead of celebrating with me, they broke their promise because of Sophia.The 101st time. I counted. And it hurt worse than all the hundred before. I couldn't help crying out, "Am I really part of this family?" My father looked at Sophia—whose eyes turned red because of my words—with pity. Then he slapped me across the face. "You're still fighting for affection? I wish I had never given birth to you," he shouted. Alex snapped at me too. "You make me sick. I'm ashamed to have a sister like you. Get out of this den!" I didn't say a word. I simply packed up my things and left in silence. After I left, the den fell into a strange quiet. They took Sophia to the South Pole to see penguins, as if nothing had happened. No one contacted me or showed concern, because they assumed I would eventually come back—just like before. They never planned to do anything for me. They never had. But this time, they didn't know I was leaving for real. I called my mother, who lived in another pack far away, and told her I'd finally agreed to go live with her. Because this time, the family… Was no longer a place I needed.

To teach me to behave, my parents forged a paternity test and declared I was not their biological son. My sister ignored my pleas and had me committed to a psychiatric hospital. "You troublemaker, why don't you just die?" they sneered. Even the fiancée I loved most watched with icy eyes and used her connections to make sure I suffered inside. After five years, I finally knew how to keep my head down. So why did they suddenly demand I return to the arrogant heir I once was?

I died on my birthday, but neither my parents nor my husband noticed. They were too busy pouring all their attention into planning my twin sister, Esme Shaw's, birthday party. While she was surrounded by people helping her pick out a gown, I was tied up and thrown into the basement. With what little strength I had left, I forced my broken fingers to press in the code—9395. It was a signal my husband, Edwin Grant, and I had once agreed on. It was a straightforward way to call for help in the event of danger. I never thought I would actually need it one day. But when I sent it, he didn't believe me. His reply was cold, "Claudia, just because I didn't take you shopping for a new dress, you've decided to put on a show? "You can still wear last year's gown. Stop making trouble. I'll see you at the party later." What he didn't know was that Esme had already shredded that gown into pieces. And what he couldn't imagine was that the moment after he hung up, I was already gone. So, when the celebration began, I never appeared. But when everyone saw the birthday gift I had prepared for Esme ahead of time, the entire room lost its mind.

My brother and I get into a car accident. My heart is ruptured—I need emergency surgery. But my mother, the hospital director, calls every available doctor… to my brother's room. He only has a few scrapes, yet she orders a full-body scan for him while I lie there bleeding out. I beg her to help me, but she snaps, visibly annoyed, "Can't you stop fighting for attention for once? Your brother almost injured a bone!" In the end, I die on the operating table. But after the news of my death breaks, my mother, who has always hated me, completely loses her mind.

By year's end, I'd closed a huge deal and snagged a $2.5 million bonus. The company even sent me on early maternity leave—nice perk for being eight months pregnant. Pauline found me lounging on the couch. "Why aren't you at work?" I cracked a joke. "Got fired. Guess I'll be stuck here playing housewife." Her response? A slap across my back. "Then get off and do the laundry! You're having a girl, not a son, and you think you can sit around like some princess?" My husband, Logan, walked in right then. He just pulled her into the nursery. Feeling hurt, I switched on the hidden cameras I'd secretly installed. I thought maybe he'd defend me. Yeah, no. What I uncovered? It was so much worse. Twisted secret after twisted secret.

He whispered her name nine hundred and ninety-nine times in his sleep. Never mine. For five years, I gave everything to Vincent Bonanno—the heir to one of the most powerful mafia dynasties in Europe. I turned his house into a home, remembered every careless detail he let slip, even abandoned my dream of becoming an artist—believing that one day, he would finally choose me. But whenever Alessia appeared, his loyalty bent toward her. The night boiling fondue scarred my arms, he rushed to shield her from a scratch that barely reddened her skin. In public, his gaze never stayed with me—it drifted to her. I was the wife on paper, but never in truth. So I walked away. With nothing but a suitcase, divorce papers he signed without noticing, and a secret I never planned to share—three months pregnant. He discovered too late. The divorce was real. The clinic file was real. And by the time he realized, I had vanished. Now the man who once ruled cities with cold power is tearing the world apart to find us. He has soldiers, money, and a thousand apologies he never gave when I was still his wife. But I’m no longer the woman who begged for affection. I’m a mother. An artist. A survivor. The question isn’t whether Vincent can reach me. It’s whether, when he does, I’ll ever let him back into the life he destroyed.

To get rid of our pup and date with his assistant on Valentine's Day, my mate Marcus forced our injured pup to go rock climbing and poisoned him. When I rushed my dying pup to the hospital, I unexpectedly saw my mate accompanying his assistant for a prenatal checkup. Our terrified pup lay convulsing from the poison, but Marcus didn’t even care about him. "He's just an Omega. If he was a proper wolf, he'd heal instantly!" I clutched the $100 million Moonlight Blessing herb in my pocket. I accidentally found it in the forest this morning. I was planning to tell him the good news today. But now? It was time to break this five-year mate bond.

In my past life, my sister's secret lover says he wants to see a meteor shower. So, she takes all the family bodyguards and drives out to the countryside to create a romantic night under the stars for him. But she doesn't realize that an old enemy she once ruined sees the opening. They break into our home, seeking revenge and planning to wipe out the entire family. My mother throws herself over me to protect me, taking the brunt of the attack. She's critically injured and is barely hanging on. I call my sister again and again, begging her to come home. She eventually returns with the bodyguards, but it's too late. The enemies are caught, but then news comes in from the outskirts—her lover has disappeared, leaving behind a suicide note. In it, he blames me, accusing me of deliberately luring my sister away so that he would suffer at the hands of her enemies. Ultimately, he takes his own life. My sister burns the letter without a flicker of emotion. She says, "Don’t overthink it." Later, the blame falls on her. Our father promises to hand the family business over to me. But after the celebration banquet, my sister murders me in the bedroom. She stares at me with a blank face and snarls, "Someone as cruel as you should've died long ago. It should've been you who died, and the family inheritance should've been mine!" I die with a heart full of rage and disbelief. When I open my eyes again, I hear our enemies breaking down the villa doors.