Since We Fell

Not long after human Iris found out about her pregnancy, she realized her Alpha fated mate Arthur had engaged with another woman ever since he was 15 years old. As Arthur prepared to run for the Alpha President position, it became clear that he needed a luna from the Alpha class, just like his fiancée. Realizing her place as nothing more than a human mistress, Iris left, with her child. Five years later, Iris came back as a successful artist, while Arthur already became the Alpha President. Arthur genuinely believed Iris couldn’t thrive without him, but when they met again, his world was turned upside down. A little boy ran to Iris, holding his arms out toward Iris. “Mommy, we missed you so much, so we came with Daddy,” he said. Arthur stared at the child, then looked back at Iris angrily to growl, “Mommy and Daddy?” Before Iris could respond, a handsome Alpha appeared, holding a little girl in his arms. “Iris, sorry to keep you waiting.”

At our wedding, my wife's assistant "accidentally" uploaded the wrong photo. The big screen was supposed to display our wedding portraits. Instead, it was a picture of my wife and him in full wedding attire. Their fingers were laced together, their eyes locked in a soft, intimate gaze, looking every bit like a blissfully happy couple. The entire venue erupted in shocked whispers. The assistant froze in shock, acting like he had no idea why he was in the photo. He started panicking, asking if we should just postpone the ceremony. My wife, however, stayed surprisingly calm. She whispered her solution, “Everyone’s here. Postponing now would be humiliating and, honestly, a bad omen. Beside, most people here don’t even know what the groom looks like. Why don’t we just let him stand in for you?” Our friends were dumbfounded. They all thought I’d explode in anger and jealousy after hearing something so outrageous. Instead, I nodded, saying it was actually a great idea. Seeing how composed I remained, my wife looked pleased with herself. She told me that since we were legally married anyway, she’d make it up to me later with another ceremony. However, she seemed to have forgotten one thing: she had just signed the divorce papers.

I didn't kill my asshole ex-boyfriend. I knew I might've said I would countless times in the text I sent before we broke up, and I wasn't the calmest person. But I really didn't kill him. I, however, am the number one and only suspect of his murder since to everyone else he was a sAiNt. But hey, let's not talk ill of the dead. The point is, I was stuck at the station being questioned about something I didn't do. And I thought it was the worst thing that could've possibly happened to me. That is, until I set eyes on the detective of the case. I may just play along for a while. See where this thing goes....

My husband, Oliver Dawson, "forgot" everything in a car crash—and somehow fell for me all over again. After getting out of the hospital, he said he wanted to date me from scratch. Moved out, made it all romantic. People thought we were couple goals. I figured he just wanted that first-date spark back. Then I overheard him with his best friend. "The amnesia was a lie. I only moved out to take care of Katy. She's pregnant. Cecelia's never wanted kids. I'm not going childless." I glanced down at my barely-there bump and booked a hospital appointment. Then I found the memory-erasing pill Mom left me—and took it. Oliver had no clue I'd forget him in seven days. Completely.

I am the woman of a mafia boss, Arthur Borne. Ever since we got married, he doted on me endlessly, professing his love for me publicly. The entire time, I believed he loved me deeply and simply could not help but flaunt his love for me to the world. Until one night, I overheard a conversation he had with his men. "I have dealings in both business and the underworld. Enemies are lurking everywhere. The only way to protect Ely is to make Juniper appear as my weakness so she can be Ely’s shield." This entire time, all the pain I suffered for him was nothing but a sick joke… Fine, two can play at this game!

I was a slum kid who fell for Damon Vitale, New York’s most feared Godfather. For five years, I was his. I took nine bullets for him. He’d kiss my scars as I bled out for him. Hold me close. Clasp the queen’s necklace around my throat. Then, once I healed, he’d fuck me senseless, with a passion that felt like forever. I thought we’d spend our lives together. I thought he would marry me. But on our 999th night together, he told me he was engaged. To Bianca, a mafia princess from a rival family. I swallowed my tears. He just grabbed my chin, blew smoke in my face, and laughed. "You didn't really think you could marry me, did you, Nora? Let's be clear. We fuck. That's it. You're not a partner. You're a piece of art I collect. A pet I own." A pet. That’s all he ever wanted for me. Instead, I picked up a burner phone. [I'm taking your offer. Three days. Get me the hell out of New York.]

I'm bound to a rebound system by nature. Everyone who has come up with rumors about me will receive backlash in return. When I was in high school, a male classmate had spread rumors about me being a prostitute who had intimate relations with a few old men. That very same day, he was taken away by a dozen or so old men and was modified into a gigolo himself. When I was in college, my boyfriend's childhood friend spread rumors about me being the female lead in porno videos. That night, all of the available porno videos on the Internet featured her as the female lead. Since then, no one dares to gossip about me. That is, until I'm reunited with the wealthy Hartley family, which happens to be my biological family. The fake heiress, Claire Hartley, takes my hand while adopting a friendly expression. "Hey Amanda, I heard that you got pregnant out of wedlock and gave birth to a murderer's child. Now that you're back, why didn't you bring the baby home with you? "We're a family, after all. We won't look down on you."

On the same day we were registering our marriage, my boyfriend, Levi Salfolk, had someone throw me out of the clerk's office while he led his childhood sweetheart inside. He looked at me nonchalantly. "Rosalie's child can't be illegitimate. I'll marry you once we get divorced." Everyone thought that the lovestruck me would wait for him for another month. After all, I had already waited for him for seven years. However, I went overseas that night, accepting the arranged marriage my family had set up for me and disappearing from his world. Three years later, I accompanied my husband back home to pay our respects to his ancestors. Something came up, and my husband sent someone from the local branch office to pick me up. Unexpectedly, I met Levi, whom I had not seen since I left. "Enough with the fooling around. Come back. Rosalie's child is starting preschool soon. You're in charge of picking up and dropping off the child."

My husband of five years, Eric Vale, came home drunk again. As I laid him in our bed, he murmured, “Don’t worry, my love… I’ll take care of you and our baby.” My heart stopped. Baby? We’d been on birth control since the day we married. There was no baby. I shook him lightly. “What are you talking about, Eric?” He blinked at me, confused, then smiled like nothing had happened. “Hey, babe… did I say something?” The next morning, I checked our joint account. Every month, ten thousand dollars had been wired to a woman named Bella Evers. Yesterday, he sent two hundred thousand more—with a note: I can’t wait for our baby to be born. Bella was Eric’s mistress and was now six months pregnant. So I made one call. “Papa,” I told the most feared Don in the South, “I’m getting a divorce.” I glanced at my sleeping husband. “I want him gone. And I want him broke.”

My husband, an anesthesiologist, deliberately increases the sedative dosage on an accident victim so he can get a new heart for his first love, Selena Quigley. After her operation, he cares for her and celebrates her rebirth. He only remembers to contact me after she's recovered. "It's been three months since we saw each other, honey. You shouldn't be mad anymore, right? Why don't you book a flight for tomorrow so you can come home? I'll pick you up at the airport." I won't be going home anymore, though. Not now, not forever. I've already died on his operating table.