Selena Quintanilla Chris Perez

I was the person Henry Johnson, the head of the San Nello mafia, loved more than anyone else. He loved me with absolute devotion. During our three years of marriage, he spoiled me endlessly and treated me like a princess. Yet this same man, who claimed to love me so deeply, divorced me three times, each time for the sake of his childhood sweetheart. The first time, intimate photos of them at the airport went viral. That very night, he placed the divorce papers in front of me. "Selena," he said, "Melanie's father once saved my life. I can't allow her to be condemned as a homewrecker. Let's divorce for now. Once this storm passes, we'll remarry." With my heart in pieces, I signed the papers and prepared to leave. However, at the airport, Henry stopped me. He broke down in front of me and begged, "I've already taken care of the media. Melanie has gone abroad again. I've repaid everything I owed her family. Please don't leave. Let's get married again." His tearful pleas softened my resolve. That was the first time I forgave him. The second time, he came to me looking utterly worn out. "Melanie was implicated by her boyfriend and ended up in prison," he said. "I need to bail her out as her spouse. Once she's free, we'll remarry right away." I believed him. That time, he kept his promise. He returned and remarried me. The third time, he lowered his head and hesitated, unable to look me in the eye. "Melanie is about to give birth," he said. "An unwed pregnancy would destroy her modeling career. I have to help her. This will be the last time. Once the child is settled, we'll remarry. I promise this will never happen again." I looked at him for a long time. In the end, I answered softly, "Okay." However, on the day we were meant to register our marriage again, I never appeared. Any love I still had was worn away bit by bit. In the end, I left for good, taking with me not only a broken heart, but also the unborn heir he would never know.

When I was surrounded by the rogue pack far from our territory, I mind-linked my mate, Alpha Luke, begging for help. He refused me fifteen times—and finally, he blocked the link entirely. In the end, I collapsed from exhaustion and lost consciousness, my wolf howling in despair. When I woke up in the infirmary, Alex, the commander of the Werewolf Tribe, was sitting quietly beside me. He was the one who had received my desperate mind-link. He led his warriors, crushed the rogues, and saved me from the jaws of death. Looking into his worried eyes, I no longer hesitated. I took a deep breath and said with unwavering resolve: “Alex, I’ve made up my mind. I’ll go to the Northern Territory for training. I leave in 2 days.” Ten minutes later, Luke barged into the room with Kristy—his so-called adoptive sister—and our twin pups trailing behind. Before anyone could speak, he kicked the door open and pointed at me, shouting with cold fury: “You staged this stunt just to outshine Kristy? Do you realize how much warrior strength you wasted just to feed your vanity? You are not worthy to be a Luna!” My elder son, Chris, gave me a sharp glance and scoffed: “Where’s the wound, Mom? You look perfectly fine. Did you fake this just to get attention?” My younger son, Collin, stared at me, eyes filled with disappointment. He shook his head slowly and whispered: “Mom, did you lie to us again… just because we care about Kristy more?” Kristy gripped Luke’s hand, her voice trembling with fake innocence and tears falling down her cheeks: “I’m sorry, Christina… I won’t celebrate my birthday again. Please… stop causing trouble for Luke and the twins.” I clenched my fists, restraining my furious wolf, and stopped Alex from standing up for me. I watched the four of them turn and leave without a second glance. Then, I turned to Alex and said, with icy clarity: “This time, I have no hesitation, no regret. I’m leaving. I’ll go with you to the Northern Territory. And I won’t eat my words.”