The Fake

I was ditched by my father, Alpha of Northcrest Pack. Dumped in the borderlands for a whole decade. "Danae's still young. Once she hits eighteen, we'll bring you back. She's always been insecure 'cause she's adopted. When she's stronger, we'll come for you." Yeah, right. I didn't even look at that delusional she-wolf. Just kept watering my orchard. Even my so-called brother backed Danae. "Danae's the sister I grew up with. Disrespect her when you return, and we're done." Their voices? Just white noise. I shut it down cold. "Wrong wolf. I don't know you." They had the nerve to call themselves family. Joke's on them—I've had real parents for the last eight years.

The day she found out about the tumor, Noemi Rosales made one wild choice—she'd give her corneas to her blind husband, Daniel Gomez. Quietly. No spotlight, no drama. Too bad Daniel only cared about Ivanna Lopez. He ate up every lie she fed him and iced Noemi out like she was nothing. "I want you out of my life." Cool. Noemi could do that. "Ms. Rosales, are you certain you want Mr. Gomez listed as the cornea recipient?" "Yeah. Give them to him. Once I'm gone, the hospital can use the rest of me for science or whatever." She scrawled her signature. "Don't tell him."

Eight months pregnant, a contraction tore through me like a blade. But my husband, the Mafia boss Darren, refused to take me to the hospital. His sister-in-law, Angelina, his late brother's widow, was also due. To ensure she gave birth before me, she produced so-called proof of my infidelity, insisting the child I carried was no true Falcone. Because the heir to the Falcone family had to be the firstborn grandson. Darren believed her. He locked me in an abandoned wine cellar. “Don't think for a second I don't know what you've been up to.” “Let me tell you, you're not giving birth to that bastard until I've verified its bloodline myself.” “Angelina’s boy is of pure blood. I have to make sure her boy is the family's firstborn grandson.” I tried desperately to explain. “My water is about to break! Please, take me to the hospital! He’s your son, I swear on my life!” “I’ll never fight for the position of heir! I just want my baby to be safe!” Darren simply kicked me and shot me a glance. “Who knows if you’ll change your mind later? Don’t worry. I’ll come for you after Angelina gives birth. When the baby is born, I’ll see for myself whose it is.” Later, as he gazed at the crying infant in Angelina's arms, he finally thought of me. But one of his men informed him, his voice trembling: “Boss, the Madam… and the child… they're both dead.”

I was Alpha Kade's secret mate for four years. The night he marked me, in the throes of passion, he gazed into my eyes for a long, long time. "You know, Anya," he'd said, his voice husky, "what I love most about you are your beautiful eyes." To protect his claim to the Alpha title, I agreed to remain by his side, posing as a Beta warrior. That is, until I watched him publicly wrap his arm around my half-sister's waist, beaming with pride. It was only when the whispers grew louder, when everyone murmured that the beautiful she-wolf the Alpha brought home had my eyes, that the devastating truth finally hit me. It was never me he loved. I confronted Kade, demanding an explanation. His face was a mask of contempt. "An explanation?" "What did you think this was? It was a temporary mark, nothing more. I've only ever seen you as a sister." I didn't cry. I didn't make a scene. I simply opened a mind-link to my childhood friend. "I accept the invitation to become Head Warrior of the Silver Crest Pack." Later, when Kade discovered I had caught the eye of his greatest rival, he went absolutely insane.

I was eighteen when I donated one of my kidneys to Susie Grant, but she died to transplant rejection anyway, and I was chased out of the Grant family. Before long, the surgery incision festered, and I died of infection in the streets. When I opened my eyes again, I was five once more, and it was the day I was taken back to the Grant family's home. But this time, my brother Harry stepped in front of our parents, pointing at me as he said, "There's been a mistake. She's not actually my sister." Seeing the look of contempt in his eyes, I knew he had reincarnated too. As our parents left in disappointment, he shoved me a piece of candy and told me, "The Grant family just needs one daughter. There's no place for you among us if you can't save Susie."

My best friend is bound to a trade system—she can force a swap with me three times. At 13, she takes my heart. At 18, she takes my SAT scores. And now, for the final swap, she wants my entire identity. I hide under the covers, unable to hold back a laugh. My villa is rented, and my family background is totally fake. Go ahead, bestie. Swap away! This time, I really hope you don't hold back.

On her first day at work, a new colleague uploaded a 500-million-dollar property purchase agreement to the company group chat. The message was accompanied by the caption: “Thanks for the gift for my first day at work, Dad!” She quickly deleted it, following up with, “Sorry, wrong chat!” I frowned, recognizing the contract immediately. It was the same property my father gifted me for my birthday a month ago. Some sharp-eyed colleagues noticed the contract number and chimed in. “I have a relative in real estate. I remember this property. Our chairman bought it recently!” “So, the heiress has joined us to experience life. Forgive your humble servant for not recognizing you!” The chat was soon filled with flattering remarks. Even my stingy and miserly husband joined in. I felt a coldness in my heart and couldn’t help but respond in the group chat, “I recall the president always opposing ostentatious displays of wealth and advocating humility. This heiress seems to veer away from his usual philosophy.” Instead of support, I faced attacks from my husband and others. “Look at you being so poor and petty. How could you ever compare to Grace? Why did I ever marry someone so shortsighted?” “As if you know the president that well! I think you’re just jealous that Grace was born with a silver spoon!” I sneered coldly and, without hesitation, dialed the president’s number right in front of everyone. “Dad, I heard we’re not that close, hmm?”

After I married Riccardo, the Don of the Moretti family, he paraded a string of mistresses in front of me. He never gave me a second glance. But on our tenth anniversary—right after my father’s death—he suddenly promised me half of his empire. The catch? In return, he planned to seize control of all my family’s arms-dealing routes. That pissed off his favorite mistress. She cornered him on his yacht, demanding he take his words back. Then she fell overboard and died. An “accident.” After she died, Riccardo went insane. He took it all out on me. He tied me to the back of his yacht. He dragged me through the sea, a human anchor, until the rocks shattered my legs, crippling me for life. I became the family’s shame. Then, as I lay helpless, he finished the job with poison. Then I opened my eyes. I was back on the day Angelo Marino—the head of our rival family—proposed to me. In my last life, my family forced me to say no. He came for me, a one-man army. He killed Riccardo, but died in the process. This time, I looked at his kind face and nodded. Yes. But as we embraced, Riccardo appeared. He ripped me from Angelo's arms and claimed me as his own. That’s when I realized the cruelest joke of all. My monster was back, too.

I slaved away for my husband and son. But what did I get in return? Cold shoulders, cutting words, and distance. Then one day, my husband suggested a “fake divorce” so my stepsister could adopt a child. Fine. Fake divorce it is. Except… if it’s just fake, why are the two of them heating up the sheets behind my back? Then, Fake divorce just turned real. My ex-husband thought I’d beg to come back. My stepsister thought I’d envy her for stealing my husband and son. They both thought I’d shatter. Wrong. I’ve got my career, my revenge, and oh—did I mention? I’m dating a drop-dead gorgeous man who actually knows my worth. And suddenly, life tasted sweeter than I ever imagined.

My husband was praised by my friends as the perfect husband in the world. Everyone said he loved me to death and practically put me on a pedestal. Then came my prenatal checkup. My older cousin, Catherina Bow, called him with a farewell message before attempting suicide. Without hesitation, he abandoned me and rushed off in panic. I was six months pregnant at that time. My mother expected me to be the bigger person and “lend” my husband to Catherina, who was depressed. My brother snapped at me, "The only reason you’re still in this house is because Catherina spoke up for you. Whatever she wants, you should give it to her!" I found it absurd. I was supposed to be their family. She was nothing but a cuckoo in my nest. When I finally decided to walk away from all of them, they regretted their actions.