Spy Family Chapter

The Lycan King's summons reached all fifty-six packs across the Northern Territories — he was choosing a Luna for his heir. The heir's reputation for brutality preceded him. So my mother swapped my sister Freya's name for mine. Her voice left no room for argument. "Elsa, your sister's wolf spirit hasn't fully awakened yet. She can't survive the journey. Go in her place — enter the Luna Trials for her." She gripped my hand, tears sliding down her cheeks at just the right moment. "When it's over, your brother will come for you. I swear it on the Moon Goddess." In my past life, I believed that oath. I traveled to the Lycan King's fortress, only to be singled out by the heir himself. I barely escaped his stronghold alive, fleeing through blizzards for seven days and nights before I finally lost my pursuers. After two years as a rogue, I made it back to the Frostfang Pack — just in time to witness Freya's Marking Ceremony with the Alpha. My mother stood at the center of the celebration and looked straight through me. "Rogue. There is no place for you here." Cast out a second time, I lost all hope. I died in a blizzard, alone. When consciousness returned, I found myself standing in the stone hall again. She wore the same expression, watching me with those calculating eyes. "Elsa, would you take Freya's place in the Luna Trials?"

When my stepsister, Kate Lawrence, is poisoned at the full moon ceremony, my father, Jack Blackwood, condemns me at once, convinced that I am the one behind it. He clamps silver chains around me and drags me into the manor's dark underground cell. His eyes burn hatefully as he snarls, "You wretch! How could I have a daughter like you? Rot in here!" I drop to my knees on the cold floor and try to explain, but the sentence he throws over his shoulder as he turns away snuffs out the last of my hope. "Even if she dies in there, no one shall go in! Whoever lets her out will die with her!" The cell severs the mind-link completely, so no one hears me screaming. Seven days later, he finally remembers me, not knowing that I'd already died on the fourth day when the silver burned through to the bone.

On Children's Day, the most popular social media post is about me. The caption is: "Mr. Shane Norton spends his birthday with his son David Norton and his first love, Ruth Feynman. Has he finally decided to divorce Ayla Sanderson?" I quietly press the "like" button. When my phone rings, I'm in the midst of taking down the balloons I put up for our wedding anniversary. "Honey." My husband sounds anxious as he tries to explain himself. "David suddenly insisted that we go to a theme park, so I—" In the background, I hear David laughing. "Dad, Ruthie says that I can sleep with her tonight!" I look at the mess in the house. The balloons are drooping, and the cream on the cake is congealed. "You don't have to explain," I hear myself say. "I understand." It's just that this time, I don't want you or David any longer, Shane.

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?

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.

My adopted sister, Rebecca Lawson, steals the gift I painstakingly prepared for the Don and presents it at a family gathering. Everyone in the room is stunned. So, my parents turned what was supposed to be my engagement party into a celebration banquet for Rebecca. They sit together and raise their champagne glasses to toast her, while I collapse alone in the bathroom, hitting my head and bleeding out. After regaining some consciousness, I use all my strength to call them for help, but only the mafia's consigliere and my fiance—Yves Gilbert—answers my calls. "Tessa, why didn't you come to Rebecca's celebration? She felt hurt by your absence! I know you've always been jealous that she could easily gain everyone's affection, but it's what she deserves. "Quickly come over and apologize to Rebecca. Don't disappoint us any further." Yves hangs up the phone after saying that. I stare at the darkened phone screen with an unsightly smile. They don't know that the gift I have prepared for the Don is still a half-finished product and needs to be repaired. However, I don't have the time to tell them. Because I am about to die of illness.

My cafe's sales have doubled recently. On the day before the celebration party, my younger brother, Ian Kingston, comes looking for me. "Vivian, I'm going to marry Louisa soon. We should dissolve our business partnership." He adds, "Louisa mentioned that she and I work better together as husband and wife. She intends to open a cafe with me so that we can spend the rest of our lives together. "Vivian, you'll marry into another family someday. This cafe is a business under the Kingston family, so you should withdraw from the partnership right away." Louisa Nott has yet to become Ian's wife, but she is already thinking of taking over the Kingstons' assets? I post an announcement on my family group chat right away. "My own brother decides to dissolve our business partnership because of his girlfriend, so I shall be opening a branch of my own. When the time comes, everyone here is welcome to my cafe to sample my food. It'll be completely free of charge!"

My father-in-law, George Lane, suffered from a brain aneurysm and fell onto the ground. The floor was covered in his blood. I calmly picked up a mop and wiped the floor clean. As his daughter-in-law, I gave up on saving him within the most critical time. In my last life, I was the first person who found out that George was injured. I immediately got an ambulance and sent him to the hospital. Before the surgery, the hospital required his immediate family member to sign off the consent form. However, when I asked my husband, Brian Lane to come to the hospital to sign that document, he thought that I was acting out of jealousy because he was spending time with his first-love. He thought I was making an excuse to get him home, so he refused to go to the hospital. In the end, George passed away as he did not receive the treatment on time. Brian did not manage to see George for the last time, and he blamed it all on me. He then hacked me to death. “It’s your fault! My dad was so old, and you didn’t take good care of him as a daughter-in-law! Since you’re not doing your part when he’s alive, then you should continue your duties as a daughter-in-law in hell!” When I opened my eyes, I found myself on the day when George died again.

Ten years ago, I ditched a high-paying job for my family. A decade later, they asked for my kidney—supposedly for my daughter, Talia. Turns out, the real patient was Hudson's first love's son. They didn't even fake remorse. Hudson sneered, convinced I couldn't survive without him. Talia called me old and fat, acting like I should be grateful to help Bianca's kid. A whole decade of sacrifice, and what did I get? No love. No thanks. Just entitlement. To them, I was nothing but a free, disposable maid. So I walked. No regrets. I rebuilt my life, found a job, and never looked back. Then reality smacked them. Hudson and Talia finally realized everything I'd done. They begged me to come back—but my heart was already stone-cold. In the end, I left the country, threw myself into work, and finally learned what it meant to live.

On the day I was supposed to donate my bone marrow, my mother called me. “You’re pretending to be sick again? We’re just asking you to donate some bone marrow. Why are you acting like we want you to die?” My brother agreed. “How could you be so horrible? You owe her this one! Even if she’s asking you to die, it’s because you deserve it!” Even my boyfriend could not hide his anger. “It’s just a bone marrow donation. We’re not asking you to die. How could you be so selfish?” They did not know that I would indeed die if I donated my bone marrow. Since they wanted me to die so much, so be it.