Santa Clara Remote Appearances

Alpha Kieran personally invited me to serve as Beta of Silvercrest Pack. But on my second day in the territory, my neighbor Gloria dragged her disheveled daughter Daisy to the center of the training grounds and dropped to her knees, accusing my son Koda of sexually assaulting her barely-eighteen-year-old daughter. Daisy stripped off her clothes in front of everyone, revealing horrifying bruises and claw marks. Gloria had even paid top dollar for a witch to perform a memory trace spell. Daisy sobbed until she nearly passed out. "Koda said if I didn't do as I was told, he'd bite me to death..." The entire pack was in an uproar. Everyone was screaming for blood. "Alpha, why should someone like her be our Beta?" "Vera can't even control her own son — how is she supposed to lead this pack?" They even demanded that Alpha have Koda seized and executed on the spot. I wasn't the least bit worried. Because when they finally brought Koda to the training grounds and everyone got a good look at him — Every single person there, including Gloria's family, froze. I nearly burst out laughing. …

The day my parents severed their mate bond, my sister and I had to choose. One of us would go with our father—the Alpha who'd gambled away every inch of pack territory in underground wolf fights. The other would go with our mother, who was marrying Alaric, the most powerful Alpha in the werewolf world. In my past life, my sister fought to go with our mother. I stayed behind with our father in silence. Later, our father rebuilt himself. His territory grew tenfold. He became one of the strongest Alphas, and I was his most beloved daughter. But my sister provoked the tyrant Alpha Alaric, was banished from his territory, and was torn apart by rogues. After rebirth, my sister didn't hesitate. She dropped her packed bags and clung to our father, sobbing: "Daddy, I can't leave you. Let my sister go live the good life with Mom. I'll stay with you." Our father's eyes softened with emotion. He looked at me quietly packing my things, and his voice turned cold: "Get out. You're just like your mother—a gold-digging bitch." I didn't argue. I left in silence. In my past life, I fought thousands of battles in underground wolf pits for him. My wolf nearly died countless times. My body was covered in scars. I won back his territory piece by piece. Only then did he wake up, pull himself together, and become a powerful Alpha again. But my wolf had been shattered beyond repair. On the verge of death, my wolf burned the last spark of her life to reverse time. But she couldn't reverse her own decay. This time around, all I wanted was to find a place with no fighting and sit in the sun for a while.

I was Callum's secret mate for twelve years. I managed his internal affairs, placated the elders, guarded the borders, fought off rogues, and handled every mess he didn't want to deal with. But he never looked me in the eye in public. Even when I was pregnant and attacked by rogue wolves, he was having sex with the daughter of an Alpha from the neighboring wolf pack. I didn't hesitate to sever my mate bond and leave. Five years later, I met him again at a Multi-Pack Council banquet. He looked at my logo-free clothes, his eyes filled with arrogant disdain: "Sera, I'm marrying Vivienne next month. She's an Alpha's daughter; only she deserves to be Luna. But I can send you back to the wolf pack to be my mistress." I scoffed: "Save it." The next second, my daughter called: "Mommy! Mommy, when are you coming home? Maisie misses you!" Hearing my daughter's voice, Callum regained his arrogant confidence: "Sera. That's my pup, isn't it? You still love me. Even after you left, you kept our baby." I stared at him for a second. Then I slapped him across the face. He didn't know that our child had been miscarried during the rogue wolf attack, and Maisie was my and Alpha King's pup.

I spent five years helping my boyfriend Marco rise to the position of Don. I nearly died countless times, but I didn't care; I loved him. He used to look at me tenderly and promised to propose to me publicly at his Don succession ceremony. But on that very day, he held the hand of another Mafia Principessa Sophia Romano and announced their engagement. To completely get rid of me, Sophia pulled a stack of photos from her bag and slammed them into my face. "See for yourself! She's been sleeping around to get intel!" In the picture, I was leaning into a man's arms. I tried to explain, but Marco interrupted me. "I always knew you were lowborn, but I didn't realize you were this cheap." "Get out!" Marco pointed at the door. "Elena, you are exiled from the family. Never let me see you again." I finally saw this man for who he truly was. He was completely subservient to me when he needed my help to seize territory, but after becoming the Godfather, he needed a more distinguished Donna, and therefore no longer needed me. I sneered; they had no idea that the man in the picture was my brother, the Don of the most powerful Corleone family. Sophia’s family was nothing compared to the Corleone family. I stopped arguing and simply turned and left. But when my true identity was finally exposed, he crawled back to me, weeping and begging for my forgiveness.

Before the day of my husband's succession as the Don, my stepsister personally tattooed the "Inverted Angel's Eye"—the mark of a traitor—onto my back. My husband didn't just turn a blind eye; when the family vendetta broke out, he withdrew all the elite guards to protect my "pregnant" stepsister, leaving me alone in a defenseless city to face the slaughter.  "Elena, you are strong enough to protect yourself. But Sophia is fragile, and she is carrying my firstborn. She needs the protection more than you." Facing a siege of heavy firepower, I survived by the skin of my teeth. He thought I would swallow the insult for the sake of the family's reputation. He didn't expect that I would kick open the doors of his coronation ceremony wearing mourning weeds, flanked by the FBI and the Commission, and personally strip him of his title. "Goodbye, Lorenzo. This time, I choose to be the Don."

On our third wedding anniversary, I brought a gift to my husband’s office. Walking past the secretary's suite, I stopped dead. A king-size bed had been set up inside. A young woman in a designer dress was sprawled across it, a handheld game console in her hands, surrounded by imported snacks of every variety. "Kevin, the lunch you ordered yesterday was pre-packaged meals. Marcus and I both felt sick after eating it. Today, make sure it's from The Palace Hotel." Kevin -- my husband's personal assistant -- bowed and scraped before her, his face a mask of obsequious flattery. "Mrs. Thorne, please don't worry. Mr. Thorne made it very clear -- everything should be tailored to your preferences and the baby's. He knows you love the chef at The Palace Hotel, so he set up a standing VIP account for you. Anything you want, anytime." She was Mrs. Thorne? Then what exactly was I? My brow furrowed. I glanced down at the wedding ring I'd worn for years. The girl beamed, radiant. "For the baby's arrival, my husband is throwing a lavish yacht party. Every important person in New York is getting an invitation. I want the whole world to know that I'm the love of his life, and that our son will be blessed by the most powerful people before he's even born. The champagne and flowers must be the finest available -- no budget limit. Our child is going to have the best of everything from day one." I stared at the gentle swell of her belly and called my father. "Dad, that divorce agreement you drew up three years ago -- you can have the lawyers send it over now."

Para devolverle a mi amor platónico el derecho de heredar su familia mafiosa, le di una de mis córneas. Sin embargo, cuando él recuperó la vista, mi familia prefirió que se casara con mi hermana mayor en lugar de conmigo. En mi vida pasada, intenté encontrarlo y explicarle todo, pero me rechazó. Por si fuera poco, mi familia me exilió y morí la noche de su boda con mi hermana. Y entonces, renací antes de mi exilio. Esta vez, decidí abandonar mi grupo mafioso y a mi amor platónico por voluntad propia... Pero, ¿aquel jefe mafioso despiadado? Él se derrumbó por completo.

I died five years ago. Now my husband, the Don of our Mafia family, wants me to take the fall for his sister again—this time for accidentally killing a British noble's heir during an arms deal. He's holding a fake confession letter with my forged signature, storming into my old apartment in the rust district, only to find it empty. Frustrated, he grabs the corner store owner downstairs, demanding to know where I am. The owner pauses, wiping his hands on his apron, calmly tells him: "Serafine? She died five years ago." "Heard it was retaliation from a rival family during the gang war. They ambushed her in an alley... shot her over a dozen times. She died immediately." My husband, Lucien, refuses to believe it. Convinced the owner is on my payroll, hiding me to help me escape his reach. He scoffs, his eyes filled with scorn: "Oh, so what? Because I called her out for messing up that last job, now she's throwing a tantrum?" "You tell her, if she doesn't come back and take the fall in three days, I'll revoke her grandmother's 'special family protection'! Let the old woman rot!" With that, he storms out, his rage still simmering. The owner watches him leave and sighs, shaking his head. "There's no grandmother left to protect... That woman passed away not long after Serafine did... couldn't survive the winter without our family's medical supplies and protection..."

I've been married to my Mafia Boss husband for 15 years. When we first got married, he couldn't even afford a ring, but I didn't care; I loved him. I hid my identity. I secretly used my family's influence to help him build his empire from scratch, and I even bore him two children. His adopted sister always mocked me, calling me an old-fashioned housewife and saying I wasn't good enough for him. To avoid embarrassing him, I always endured it. Until our 15th anniversary, because both me and his adopted sister wore red dresses, he told me to stay in the kitchen: "Sofia's right. That red doesn't suit you. Don't come out until the banquet actually ends. Stay in the kitchen. I don't need the Dons from New York seeing you and getting the wrong impression." I was completely heartbroken and didn't argue anymore. I dialed a number I hadn't made in 15 years: "Principessa?" "It's me," I said, my voice steady. "Tell those old fossils on the Council... Isabella Corleone is coming home."

Untuk mengembalikan hak waris pria yang kucintai dari keluarga mafianya, aku memberikan salah satu korneaku padanya. Namun, saat dia mendapatkan kembali penglihatannya, alih-alih menikahkanku dengannya, keluargaku malah memilih kakak perempuanku untuk menjadi pasangan hidupnya. Di kehidupanku yang lalu, aku berusaha mencarinya dan menjelaskan segalanya, tetapi dia menolakku. Keluargaku sendiri mengasingkanku dan aku mati pada malam pernikahan antara dia dan kakakku. Kemudian, aku terlahir kembali, kembali ke masa sebelum aku diasingkan. Kali ini, aku memilih meninggalkan kelompok mafiaku dan meninggalkan pria yang dulu begitu kucintai. Namun pria itu? Bos mafia yang dingin dan tak berhati itu? Dia benar-benar hancur.