Stared

"… Are you planning on making me someone else?" I asked, my bottom lip trembling slightly as I began to realize what I had gotten myself into. "Too many questions." He stared straight at me, and then his lips spread in a sly smirk, "You are right, anyways. You are no longer who you used to be. What is your name?" "Persephone Walters." I told him with a hidden plea in my voice. Please don't make me disappear… "From now on, that person is dead. You will now be my girlfriend, and wife-to-be, the elegant Kassandra Aaron." ______________________ She’s a mechanic. He’s one of the richest CEOs in the state. She is also his girlfriend's doppelgänger, and he only needs her as his substitute mistress until his real girlfriend returns, to save his father's business. Falling for each other seems impossible, mostly because Aiden sees another woman through her. However, when his real girlfriend returns, the contract meets its end and they find out that things are not on the original track. How does CEO—Isaac Bates remind himself that the mechanic—Persephone Walters is way out of his league? How do they defeat the numerous obstacles that stand against their love?

"The bride is here" someone shouted and he calmed down a bit, he just want to get this over with. He turned to stare at his bride and was shocked to see another face, dressed as his bride walking towards the altar. The lady has blond hair and baby blue eyes, a straight nose and a rosebud mouth that was twitching nervously He stared at his friend who was standing beside him, his gaze demanding for an explanation but he only shrugged, his gaze portrayed that he doesn't have a clue about what's going on. She smiled nervously when she got to where he was standing "Hello, you must be the groom, my name is Isabella. Joana's cousin and I am your bride" Daniel arched a brow at her before turning back to the priest, "let's begin"........ ******************************************* [One Year Later] "Boss, you have to see this video, it is a video of your wife with another man and the worst is that it is uploaded on an adult site" Daniel flung the phone angrily across the wall, "find me that bastard who would dare do such, find him before 24hours elapses" he yelled....... Find out what will become of Daniel and Isabella's marriage after this shocking revelation. Will their love be able to withstand every little secret being dished out?

When I was eight months pregnant, my Beta mate Derek's mistress offended the Alpha and was sentenced to three months in silver prison. Derek wanted me to serve her time. I stared at him in disbelief. "I'm carrying our child. How can I go to prison? What if something happens to the baby—" He roughly cut me off. "It's just three months, isn't it? Your wolf is so strong, but Sophia is just an Omega. Could you really bear to watch her die?" He forcibly threw me into prison to take punishment for his precious Sophia, where I was whipped with silver chains. Through this ordeal, my wolf nearly died. That day, I had a lot of bleeding during childbirth and almost went into shock. Meanwhile, the photos of him in bed with his mistress spread all over the pack. When Derek’s brother Ethan, who had a crush on me for many years, rushed to the hospital, my voice was eerily calm. "You are right. Derek is not worthy of being my mate. You promised me that once I gave birth to the child, you would help me leave. I want to break my mate bond with Derek."

The day my mother brought her childhood sweetheart back to the villa, my father—who had already quit smoking—stood on the balcony and smoked through the entire night. Back then, his colleagues at the research institute all envied him for having a wife who was a CEO. They said he should have stayed home and enjoyed life—why work so hard outside when all he needed to do was keep a firm grip on the household finances? But my father never agreed. "Those things are all external," he would say. "As long as the feelings are still there, we'll be fine whether we're rich or poor. And if one day she no longer loves me, I'll leave with nothing and walk away alone." He never expected his words to become prophecy. My mother truly did stop loving him. Later, when she appeared before the media, arm in arm with that man, my father didn't look back. He boarded a flight overseas and disappeared from our lives. And as I stared at the photo in my social feed—my fiancée's hand entwined with someone else's—I knew it was time for me to leave too, just like my father had.

I fought with my husband, Alessio, the Don of the Moretti family, over the mistress who'd given him twin sons. The next day, he stormed into my bedroom and put a gun to my head. "Did you take my sons?! You vicious bitch!" While I was still in shock, he ordered his men to lock my eight-year-old daughter, Lucia, in the icehouse for three whole days of "training." He gave me an ultimatum: Lucia would stay there until I brought him his sons. Lucia froze to death in that icehouse. I returned with her death certificate in my hand, my heart a hollow stone in my chest, only to find him moving his mistress and their sons into the home we once shared. He was cheerful, dismissing the whole thing as a misunderstanding. He even had the audacity to tell me to go get Lucia to meet her "new little brothers." I just stared, tears tracking paths down my face, the life inside me extinguished. It wasn't until that thin piece of paper—the death certificate—fluttered to the floor that the color drained from Alessio's face. He finally realized Lucia was gone. Killed by his own blind, cruel pride.

I was prepping the ceremonial cloak for our seventh mating anniversary. The front door suddenly banged open. My son rushed inside, tears streaming down his face. "The teacher yelled at me," he sobbed. He shoved the wrinkled drawing into my hands before burying his face in my shirt. I smoothed out the paper to see what the drama was about. It was a sketch of a faceless woman titled: The Substitute Mom. My heart stopped as I read the scribbles underneath. "Daddy said she is the backup." "She does the chores but gets no wages." "The Real Mom is responsible for being beautiful and guarding the treasury." My fingertips turned ice-cold against the paper. My mate, Ethan, had just returned from a patrol. He kissed my forehead. "What did our pup draw?" The next second, his smile froze when he saw the content. His voice tightened, and he reached out to snatch the book. "He watches too many cartoons! He's writing nonsense!" I stared at the man I had shared a den with for seven years. He looked like a stranger now. If I was the substitute. Who was this beautiful real mother? And where had my true son been all these years?

My boyfriend's childhood sweetheart bound herself to a transfer system: everything she ate would be redirected straight into my stomach. She opened a streaming account and broadcast herself eating for twelve hours straight. She earned a fortune. Meanwhile, I collapsed with acute pancreatitis and was rushed to the hospital. When I explained the situation to my boyfriend, he only stared at me like I was insane. "How could something that absurd exist? If food could really be transferred, no one in the world would ever starve. You're just jealous that she's making money from streaming." After that, every time his childhood sweetheart went live, I ended up hospitalized again. I kept hovering between life and death. I sought medical help, but the doctors couldn't explain my condition. Some even wanted to commit me to a psychiatric ward. Then, one day, in order to outdo her rivals in a PK match, she devoured ten pounds of rice in a single sitting. At that very moment, my spleen and stomach ruptured, and I bled to death on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day of her very first livestream. This time, I was prepared. I rushed out and bought twenty takeout meals. "This time," I said, "I'll eat first."

The beach was crowded as it was summer and many families tend to camp and have fun during this period. A young tanned skinned girl of about eight years, sat on the sand a little bit far from her family. She had a darkblue hoodie on and a headphone over her head. Her beautiful grey eyes seem to shimmer as she stared with keen interest at the water, while humming a song softly and enjoying the quiet. However, her little peace and privacy was shortlived as a lad of about ten years old, endowed with curly jet-black hair, ran along. He stopped however, on seeing her. She turned to see the one invading her quiet only to see the boy staring at her. She looked at him without saying a word, holding his gaze. Time seemed to fly by as they both continued their staring match which was eventually interrupted, when another lad of same age as the boy came by. "Jordan! There you are. Come, Mom calls for you." The blonde haired lad said, looking at the girl briefly before dragging the other along who continued to stare at the girl from his shoulders until she was out of eyesight. "Hey Elle!" A little girl of same age as the grey eyed, called as she ran towards her. "Come see the sand castle that Rosalie and I built." "Jordan," the grey-eyed girl whispered.

When my younger sister gave me a blessed pendant, I immediately hung it around the neck of a pregnant sow. In my past life, my sister and I got pregnant at the same time, and she bought an expensive blessed pendant from Tenezia to ensure my baby and I would be safe and sound. I was touched, and I wore the pendant every day. Months later, my sister and I went into labor at the same time. I gave birth to a deformed, dead fetus, while my sister gave birth to a healthy, chubby baby boy. My in-laws thought I had cursed my son to death and would also end up bringing misfortune to their family, so they drugged me and sold me to Tenezia. I was turned into a freak show and placed inside a vase to become a public spectacle for all who came to see me. It was only after my death that I found out it had all been my sister's doing. She had known from the start that there was something wrong with her baby, which was why she got me the blessed pendant to exchange the fates of our babies. When I opened my eyes again, I smiled as I stared at the round belly of the sow…

I had been married for eight years when I inherited a fortune worth hundreds of millions that my grandfather left to me and my mafia boss husband. However, just as the lawyer was finalizing the transfer, we discovered my marriage certificate was fake. That meant the entire inheritance could only go to me. “Ms. Rivers, according to the system, you were divorced a year ago. Your husband, Zayn Levine, is legally married to… Whitney Sanders. According to the papers, you're single. In other words, Mr. Levine has no right to claim the inheritance.” Whitney, the woman Zayn had once loved before she went abroad, the one he never forgot. I stared at the lawyer’s message, unable to accept it. All of Zayn’s affection and tenderness over the years had been nothing but a lie. I had planned to tell him on our anniversary that after eight long years of marriage, I was pregnant. It was the miracle we had both been waiting for. Yet it seemed like he had never really been looking forward to it at all. As I gently rested my hand on my belly, I told myself that even if my twins grew up without a father, they would be just fine. In this place built on nothing but lies, the only thing left for me to do was run away.