Real Daughter

“Carys, can you relieve me?” I turned beet red as Bryan squirmed in distress, sweat soaking his face. Little did I know, there was more to the harmless-looking man I had always seen as a brother.

"Brother, please spare my life!" Sera cried out. She kneeled and bowed down to show sincerity but her brother's eyes did not show any emotion. "There is no mercy for traitors, Sera. That's the family motto, remember?" Xander's voice was stern and filled with contempt. "I didn't do it! I don't even know what the Duchess looked like!" She was desperate but none of her family members even tried to listen to her. "We shouldn't have accepted you. The prophecy was true when it said that you will only bring tragedy to this family!" Her father's voice was filled with rage. All her life, all she asked was to be acknowledged. All she wanted was to feel the warmth of a family. Was it too much to ask for? "I wish I was never born," she mumbled. "Prepare to die, Seraphina. This is the punishment for taking my mother's life." Xander lifted his sword and drops of blood splattered when the blade cut through Sera's head. "Sera!" Seraphina jolted when she heard her mother's voice. Her eyes grew wide when she saw the familiar small room and she immediately touched her neck to confirm that her head was not severed. What happened? Why am I back to my ten-year-old self?

After the tragic death of her mother and being abandoned by her father with her new born sister. Kaleah finds out she is about to get deported; her friend comes up with a plan to get her married so she can stay in the country. Her first date with her potential date ends up in a disaster, also earning her a stalker. She thinks it is hopeless after meeting her friend’s big brother and sparks fly, enough to earn herself a rich powerful husband. The catch, it is a fraud to get her to stay in the country. But it is not, she just hadn't realized it yet.

Back when we were still in love, I heard from someone else that Charlie Grant had been getting unusually close to his secretary. He never offered an explanation. He let me dig for the truth on my own. Over the past five years, I quietly collected countless photos of them together—having lunch, leaving late-night meetings, even traveling for business—but none of them offered conclusive proof of cheating. Until the day he proposed to me. There was a giant screen set up. It was supposed to play a romantic video Charlie had prepared just for the proposal, but the screen suddenly cut to something else. A video of Charlie at a hospital, standing beside his secretary as she underwent a pregnancy check-up. In the video, the doctor clearly referred to Charlie as her husband… and the father of her child. His secretary burst into tears on the spot and apologized to me repeatedly. She sobbed as though she were the victim. Charlie, however, stood there with a cold expression and said flatly, "She's an unwed mother. She was helpless. I was just accompanying her for the checkup. The doctor must've misunderstood." Everyone braced for a dramatic scene. However, I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I only reached up and slowly removed the delicate flower hairpiece from my head. I set the hairpiece down. Then I looked Charlie in the eyes and spoke calmly. "You're right. It is sad that she’s pregnant and all alone. "This marriage proposal was meant for her. Not me." I gave a faint smile. "May you enjoy a blissful life. And… congratulations on the baby."

At my 25th birthday party, my childhood sweetheart got down on one knee, holding a diamond ring. "Diane, will you marry me?" I nodded, my eyes misty with tears, but just as I reached out, he slipped the ring onto my best friend's finger instead. The room went silent for a beat before erupting in laughter. "Just kidding!" Livio Becker laughed. "You didn't take it seriously, did you?" I forced a smile and looked over his shoulder at someone. "I bet he would propose tonight, and I was right. You lost the bet, so tomorrow we're getting married for real."

I’d been Albert’s Luna for ten years. Everyone said we were the perfect fated pair. That day, he held me close and said softly, “Grace, I’ve planned a seven-day trip for you down south. You need to relax.” I found it strange. Albert was fiercely possessive; I’d never been away from him for more than three days. It wasn't until I overheard our pup, Leo, asking him, “Dad, are you and Auntie Maria going to be mates? What about Mom?” Maria. Albert’s childhood sweetheart. Albert just chuckled. “It’s just for show. Auntie Maria lost her mate. As her Alpha, I have a duty to look after her.” Then his voice dropped. “Be a good boy, Leo, and keep this a secret. Don’t tell your mom, and I’ll buy you that toy you wanted.” I heard everything, but I didn’t confront him. Instead, I called my former mentor, the Director of the Institute for Ancient Lycan Bloodlines. “About your earlier offer… I’m accepting it. I’ll be at the Southern Pack in three days.” Then, I sent a message to the pack’s Head Elder: “I'm formally rejecting our mate bond.”

Rosa had suffered emotionally and physically abused by her husband. She had endured it for five years just for the sake of her son. After she had been raped and abused by her drunken husband, she found out she had another child for him. She makes up her mind that she will run away with her baby from her husband. She left her son but take away her baby far far away. With hope, she can start a new life and found new happiness. With help from her half-sister, she living well with her baby. However, after she starts to rent a house and work, she found out that she again makes a bad decision. Her big boss is a lazy bum and always makes trouble, his temperament is worst than her baby! What is even worst??? Her big boss is her housemate! Now, she wonders is she work hard to support herself and her baby or for her big boss?

On the day my dad, the Don of the Capone family, comes to the orphanage to take me home, I show up in a tactical helmet and a bulletproof vest. "I'm not going home with you. You're definitely doing this to trick me into getting married to a perverted old geezer in a marriage alliance. I bet my adopted sister has made preparations to start fake-crying anytime by loading up on her eyedrops." My dad is amused, to say the least. "Why would any of that happen? Silvia is nothing but welcoming you to our home! Also, our family isn't a lowly organization that deals with human trafficking." But I refuse to believe my dad at all. On the way home, I keep typing something on my phone. My mom, the Donna, leans over curiously. "Are you writing a diary entry?" "Nope. I'm writing tips on 'How to Survive the Mafia.'" 1) My food will definitely be poisoned. 2) If I get close to a staircase, I'll definitely get pushed down the stairs. 3) I'll get framed for something that I've never done before. My parents swear to me that none of the things I've written will ever happen. They tell me that my adopted sister, Silvia Capone, has a great personality, and things are amicable in the family. However, everything changes when Silvia brings me a glass of juice before lunchtime and insists on watching me drink it. Instead, I dump the juice into a nearby vase of flowers. Just as my parents are about to scold me for wasting the juice, smoke begins drifting from the flowers inside the vase. Then, they start wilting rapidly. I calmly leave a bright red checkmark behind the "poison" tip. As my parents stare at the dead flowers, they can feel color draining from their faces. "You should send the juice to a chem lab for analysis."

"Everything was a lie; my name, my identity, my family, my life. Then what's the truth?" Follow Alisa Walker, an eighteen-year-old teenage girl, on her quest for discovering who she really is in a fictional world she never knew existed. As she proceeds, she realizes that nothing is what appears to be while struggling to make choices between love and life. Get on the wagon of ups and downs!

My family sold one of their properties to put me through school abroad. Nathan Kingsley and I had been together three years. Two of those were long-distance. Through those two years of me alone overseas, he never broke contact — airport pickups, long phone calls, every anniversary remembered. I'd never once doubted him. I thought distance hadn't beaten us. The day I flew home, he was waiting at Arrivals with a bouquet of flowers. He smiled and said, "Finally." We set the engagement date. We picked out the dress. We booked the reception. The day the wedding march began and I stood at the top of the aisle looking at him, I thought — these three years were worth every minute. Then the doors behind me opened. My sister walked into the chapel, in a white dress, and slid her arm through his. She smiled at me. "Sorry, sis. Those airport pickups? I'm the one who sent him. For the last three years, he's been mine the whole time."