Novel & Cerita Sugar We're Goin Down Swinging Lyrics

On the day my marriage ended, the entire Vale family was celebrating my husband’s mistress for carrying the “heir” I had failed to give them. For five years, they called me barren. For five years, I protected Damian Vale’s pride while his mother humiliated me piece by piece. For five years, I played the perfect Luna while they prepared to replace me. So I smiled, opened the family group chat, and sent the one document that shattered everything. Damian Vale. Male. Congenital azoospermia. Permanent infertility. The room went silent. Then I looked at the people who had fed on my humiliation and said, “I was never the one who failed this family.”

We felt abandoned and betrayed by the girl we grew up protecting alongside her twin brother, but he is gone. It's been almost four years and she has returned with a fire she did not possess before. She is back and she is ours. The best way to protect her from our enemies is to being her into C.H.A.O.S.

I thought I was the Conti family's "legitimate wife." Until the day I saw it with my own eyes, my husband, Christian, resting his hand on my stepsister Emma's bump belly, gentle like he was cradling the future. Everyone told me to be "big-heated": when the baby was born, they'd put it under my name, make him call me Mom, because the family needed an "heir." Even the private doctor they hired announced it in front of everyone—steady heartbeat, and from the ultrasound, it looked like a boy. I didn't cry and didn't make a scene. I just picked up the phone and told my lawyer to initiate the divestment. Twenty-four hours later, Christian's cards were frozen, his projects got their loans yanked, and assets started getting seized— That's when he finally understood: he hadn't betrayed a wife. He'd betrayed the lifeline of the entire family. But what I really wanted to know was— When he dropped to his knees and begged me to come back, would I tell him— I had already picked out his grave?

I always thought if I just held on a little longer, I could still keep this family together. But my mate Ethan and my brother William poured all their favoritism onto Ava and her mother, and left me nothing but coldness and humiliation. They could even look me in the eye and say, “She’s your sister too,” like that was enough to make me bless them. That night, I did something so insane it bordered on self-destruction: I dragged my suitcase out the door and let the house that held all my memories get swallowed by flames. The news exploded, our villa became ruins. The security footage showed “no one leaves,” and the police made a preliminary judgment that the person inside was “highly likely deceased.” Ethan didn’t believe it. Not until he and William were handed that bag of belongings at the police station, a diamond, a Blood Moonstone, the things I treasured most, did they finally understand: I wasn’t throwing a tantrum. I was really, truly done with them. Too bad. It was already too late.

My girlfriend had one of those guy friends she insisted was basically family. On a group hike, he knew I had diabetes and couldn't eat anything high in sugar, but he still coaxed me into eating a high-sugar energy bar, and my blood sugar spiked almost instantly. When I pulled out my insulin to inject, panic shot through me. My medication had been switched out for saline. I collapsed to the ground, shaking and retching. The fake nice-guy just looked down at me with a smug twist of his mouth. "Seriously, man? You're being dramatic. It's just a little sugar. Good thing I told Selene to swap your meds, or we'd never know how far you'd go to fake it. With a body this weak, how are you supposed to protect Selene?" I turned to my girlfriend, my breathing already turning shallow. "Selene, give me my insulin. If I don't inject it right now, I'm going to die." She frowned as if I were the one being unreasonable. "You're overacting. I've never heard of someone dying from a bit of sugar. Adrian's right. You're always looking for attention. Everyone finally got together today, and you're here ruining it." I felt everything inside me go cold. I didn't even bother arguing anymore. I grabbed my phone with shaking hands and rasped, "Mom, your son's about to get bullied to death. Are you going to step in or not?"

#While returning home from a late-night shift, I was knocked down by a delivery rider. The girl riding it was deaf and mute, looking no older than a teenager. I couldn’t bring myself to make things difficult for her, so I paid for the medical expenses at the hospital on my own. Limping back home, I saw a familiar delivery helmet lying at the doorway. From inside, laughter echoed through the walls. “She’s such a fool. I was just pretending but she believed it anyway.”

My husband was sterile. Necrospermia, they said. His brother was in a coma and had no partner. Their mother wanted me to sleep with both of them and get knocked up with the family's heir. I refused and applied for a divorce. Ninety-nine times. Ninety-nine failures. Then, I put in the hundredth application. When that failed, I agreed to my mother-in-law's request, holding a pregnancy test result. My husband disagreed. That night, he stopped me before I could sleep with his brother. Harshly, he said, "My mother was just testing you. I can't believe you'd get pregnant with the illegitimate child." I was amused and annoyed. "You're the one who said yes, as long as I could get pregnant with your family's heir."

I was Randy Johnson's contract wife. For five years, I tried every possible way to make him fall in love with me. But aside from showing me concern in bed, he ignored me the rest of the time. When a piece of equipment at the amusement park fell and struck me, the first thing he did was rush to his beloved first love. She was startled but unscathed. Yet, he rushed her straight to the hospital. When a towering cake display collapsed on me, leaving blood streaming down my arm, he still chose to comfort his first love, who merely had a stomachache. Since he loved her so deeply, there was no reason for me, his contract wife, to stay. So I let him go and freed myself in the process. I chose to study abroad, vowing never to see him again for the rest of my life. I never expected… this time, he would be the one to regret it.

I'm not who I thought I was. But what does it mean? Aurelia Drow has been a sickly omega her entire life, spending most of her time with the pack doctor and receiving "life-saving" treatments for her deadly illness. But by her seventeenth birthday, she loses her only friend and goes through the agony of her first shift, only for her wolf to be nowhere in sight. She felt the change, but her wolf was silent. Soon, the truth is revealed: Aurelia Drow is Aurelia Snow, the true daughter of Alpha and Luna Snow, leaders of Snow Pointe pack. Not only that, but she is destined to marry the Lycan king's second son, Killian Lucaris, the temperamental and volatile playboy prince. The truth of her illness, her treatments, and the tangled web of fate leave her with only one question: How will she survive?

My mother was a traitor. To my pack, I am no better. I'm used to being overlooked. I've been unwanted from the time I was born, and my pack, River Crest, made it abundantly clear every chance they could that I was not welcome. No one and nowhere was safe. I've spent my entire life alone, with no family, no friends, and now, no mate. At 24 years old, unmated and unwanted, I've accepted that I must be one of the mateless. Wretched, forsaken wolves who are cursed to live out their lives alone. Or worse. The legends and histories claim that being a mateless wolf is worse than death. They suggest choosing a mate and forming a bond before madness sets in or the pack rejects me. But I've been rejected. I'm used to the feeling. I thrive in it. Because the more they push me away, the less pain and humiliation I have to face. If I can make it another year unmated, I could face banishment, and I'll finally be free. That's my goal. And I'll be damned if I let anyone get in my way. Even my mate.