Stern Expression

I return home from my business trip that night. The pharmacy I always go to calls to say that my membership card was used that afternoon, but the payment failed, and the account needs to be topped up. I look over at my wife, Catherine Francis, who's focused on making dinner. I ask her what she bought. She smiles and pulls out a box of supplements. "I've been staying up late working these past few days. My heart's been acting up a little, so I bought some heart supplements." Seeing my expression go flat, she lets out a helpless sigh and takes a card out of her bag. "I know you're particular about money. Since I accidentally used your membership card, I'll pay you back ten times. Okay?" However, I don't take the card like I used to. I just look at her calmly and say, "Let's get a divorce."

"They say I'm unworthy to be your Luna." Katherine's voice was quiet, but it echoed in the sudden silence of the pack hall. Alpha Charles didn't even look her. "They speak the truth. Know your place." Cast out and left with nothing but the secret heir in her womb, Katherine vanished. Three years later, she reemerged not as the scorned mate, but as "Sienna," a designer whose power and influence rivaled his own. When a rival pack threatens his pack, the arrogant Alpha King has nowhere left to turn. He found her. Now, he knelt before her, his pride shattered. "Katherine, please," he begged, his voice raw. "I was a fool. You are my true Luna. Our pack needs you. I need you." She looked down at the man who had shattered her heart, her expression unreadable. "The woman you need," she stated coldly, "died the night you threw her out. My name is Sienna. And you, Alpha, are just another client."

“This is Abraham Blackwood, heir to the Blackwood empire, one of the richest families in the country." The moment I stepped ahead, he turned slowly and my breath caught in my throat. The shock of seeing him again struck me like a bolt of lightning. No… It can’t be him. But it was. Sitting there, casually sipping tea, was him—the man from the bar. The same piercing blue eyes locked onto mine, his expression shifting from mild amusement to disbelief. His sharp blue eyes pierced through the room and locked onto mine with an intensity that made my breath freeze in my throat. I couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. The memories of the night in the bar flooded back—his arrogance, his rude comments, his piercing gaze that had felt so unsettling. I stared at Alexander, still in shock. The man sitting across from me wasn't just any stranger. He was a billionaire—an heir to a vast fortune. My brother had been friends with him for years, and their families had arranged this marriage as part of a business partnership.

My roommate won first prize in the national lottery, a full 100 million dollars. She quit her job on the spot, blocked her boss, and said to me, "Amanda, from now on, we'll live in Luxuria Heights, eating the best food and living it up." We went on shopping sprees at Hermès and treated Michelin restaurants like our daily canteen. On moving day, she told me to go ahead to the top-floor luxury apartment and wait for her. She said she needed to pick up a package. Excited, I entered the password she had given me. "Beep. Incorrect password." I was just about to try again. Then, the door opened. The person who came out was not my roommate but a stranger in a suit. He looked at me and frowned. "Who are you? Why do you have the password to my home?" I was stunned. "This is Lydia Zaydn's apartment. Who are you?" The man's expression turned strange. "Lydia Zaydn? I've lived here for five years. I've never heard of that name."

The new intern always claimed to have the company’s best interests at heart, but her actions told a different story. To cut costs, she secretly swapped the two-thousand-dollar gift basket I had prepared for a client with a knockoff version she bought online for just two dollars, shipping included. During a critical overtime session, she turned off the power to save on electricity. Then, she boldly suggested canceling the company’s annual holiday leave. With a self-righteous expression, she declared, “The company doesn’t support freeloaders. I believe the holiday season is the perfect time to boost sales. I propose everyone work unpaid overtime and dedicate themselves selflessly to the company!” While the employees grumbled in frustration, I stepped up to refute her absurd suggestion and spoke out on behalf of the team. But instead of backing down, she accused me of embezzlement in front of everyone and recommended to the boss that I be fired. The shocking part? The boss agreed. Fine. If that was how they wanted it, I couldn’t wait to see how the company would function without me.

After my engagement to Simon Page, he secretly planned a trip abroad with Yara Watson, the woman he had loved for years. The day before their departure, he was chatting with his friends and Yara in the lounge of a golf club. "Simon, you just got engaged, and you're already taking Yara on a trip. Aren't you afraid Rosalyn will find out?" Simon scoffed. "I hired a guy to pose as her suitor. He’ll keep her so occupied that she won’t have time to bother me. "If something really happens between them, even better. I can use it as an excuse to officially end the engagement and be with Yara openly." Standing outside the door, I trembled as his words sank in. Tears streamed down my face as I looked at the handsome man behind me, his expression filled with guilt. "Then let’s grant him his wish and get married." But just as I was preparing for the wedding, Simon suddenly knelt before me in agony. "Rosalyn, I was wrong. Please, don’t marry him!"

My fiance, Luca Rossi, cuts off my finger with a cigar cutter to seize Ossuary Signet, my famiglia heirloom. Afterward, he parades it like a trophy and slips the ring onto the finger of Sofia Constanzo, the heiress of the Constanzo famiglia. He mocks me openly. "An orphan like you has no right to wear the ring meant for the future Donna of the Rossi famiglia." Sofia lifts her hand to flaunt the ring, feigning concern as she says, "Alessia, don't be angry. At worst, I will have Luca compensate you with a golden finger later." Everyone present watches me as a joke, yet I laugh out loud. I wipe away my tears and start to applaud. "Congratulations, Luca. You traded one of my fingers for the Rossi famiglia's one and only lifeline." I look at his stunned expression and smile cruelly. "Do you think it's just a ring? No. It is the sole key to unlock the billions in assets under my name. The moment it leaves my hand, the Rossi famiglia begins its countdown to bankruptcy and liquidation."

Outside the private room, Charlotte Riley overheard Zac Gibson say, “Charlotte is gorgeous, no doubt. But the reason I pursued her? She reminded me of Wendy Cooper. For years, I was just searching for traces of Wendy in her.” That night, she finally made the call she had been avoiding for years. “Dad, I’m ready. I’ll come home and go through with the engagement.” Later, when Zac saw Charlotte at a high-society gala—elegant, untouchable, and more dazzling than ever—only then did he realize the truth. And he completely lost it. * The night Charlotte walked away from her family’s arranged marriage, Sean stood by the window, swirling his wine, his expression unreadable. “Lottie, one day, you’ll come back to me willingly.” Rumor had it that Jersey City's most powerful heir, Sean Jasper, was cold, reserved, and indifferent to women. Charlotte believed it. Until she realized just how intense and unwavering his devotion truly was beneath that composed, self-restrained facade.

I was setting up a weekend shopping list on the tablet my husband had just replaced for our home system. A notification popped up. He had forgotten to log out of a shared, encrypted family calendar— one I didn’t recognize. There was only one unfamiliar profile photo. I tapped it. A list titled “My Little Princess – Personal Notes” filled the screen. My Little Princess doesn’t drink alcohol—only mineral water or herbal tea. No late nights. She needs absolute quiet to sleep. She gets anxious easily—keep fresh white lilies in the house and her favorite vanilla chocolates on hand. I scrolled slowly, my expression unreadable. The final entry was bolded. Highlighted. “Next Wednesday: take my Little Princess to choose her wedding crown.” I closed the screen. Then I picked up my phone and called my husband. “Love,” I said gently. “Does your Little Princess prefer a classic European bridal crown… or something more traditional? I thought I could help you choose.”

At the Mercer family's annual dinner, I accidentally wore a couture gown that belonged to Lucian's late wife. The eight-year-old boy I had raised myself, in front of every key member of the Family, threw a glass of expensive red wine all over my pure white dress. He just stood there, his cold, condescending expression a mirror of his father's. "Don't think you can become the mistress of this house just by dressing like my Mamma." "I swear, when I'm old enough to take over the family business, I'll make you disappear for good!" The cold liquid soaked through the fabric, clinging to my skin. But I felt nothing. My heart had frozen solid the moment I signed my life away eight years ago. I looked at the child I had raised as my own for eight years. There was no anger. The faintest smile touched my lips. I leaned down and whispered in his ear, "You won't have to wait that long, my little lion. I'm leaving, and it will be very soon."