The Good Shepherd

My brother convinced my father to give me to the principal of an elite high school. When the principal was treating me like a dog, they showed off to the world with the money and the spot in the high school they had exchanged me for. I knew nothing about this and waited for them to rescue me. It was not until the principal showed me a video of how they were living a proud and happy life that I broke down in desperation and helplessness. On my third failed attempt at escape, the principal whipped me with a leather belt until I was almost dying. After that, he let his precious son, a German shepherd, torture me to death. When I next opened my eyes, I had returned to a time when none of this had happened yet. Well, my dear father and brother, do you think things would work out the way you want this time?

She went looking for a future and she found one, with teeth. Leela leaves a loveless, abusive home, from parents that couldn't or wouldn't love her. Finding her future in a self made fog.

"Hello, I want a divorce." In the third year of her marriage, Roxanne Levine decided to file for divorce. But she did so without telling her husband. Across the desk, the lawyer, Nathaniel Shepherd, responded in a formulaic tone after hearing her intent. "If you wish to proceed with a divorce, both parties need to sign the divorce agreement. After that, there will be a one-month cooling-off period before the divorce is finalized. Did your husband not come with you today?" Roxanne paused for a few seconds. "I'll make sure he signs it." "Very well. I'll draft a divorce agreement for you."

The day Yancy Shepherd died, Benedict Page poisoned our dinner. His eyes were wild, and bloodshot, as he watched me writhe in agony. There was a madness in his gaze, but worse was the hatred, a disgust so deep it twisted his face into something unrecognizable. "If it weren't for you forcing your way into our lives, Yancy wouldn’t have died from heartbreak. You ruined us! It’s all your fault!" A photo slipped from his trembling hand and landed at my feet—Yancy at twenty, looking radiant, her smile as bright as a blooming flower. I collapsed to the ground, my strength fading fast like a rose withering in the final grasp of winter. Helpless, I waited for the darkness to claim me, consumed by despair and bitter regret. Why hadn’t I listened to the system and killed him when I had the chance? But when I opened my eyes again, everything was different. I stood watching Benedict flee our engagement ceremony. My brother moved to chase after him, but I quietly raised a hand, stopping him. This time, things would be different.

The emergency center I worked in went haywire as the typhoon closed in on our town. That night, my husband’s first love made seven emergency calls in a row to me. However, she did not say anything when I picked up. By the eighth call, I thought it was a prank caller, so I gave them a piece of my mind. Then, I heard my husband’s angry voice. “Melinda! This is the eighth time Sadie's called you for help! Haven’t you made her suffer enough?!” After that fiasco, he decided to avenge Sadie by taping my mouth, tying my wrists and legs up, and throwing me into our basement for three whole days, despite it being flooded with seawater, I begged for mercy, but it was to no avail. “You knew Sadie couldn’t talk because she hurt her throat, yet you still hung up on her! I'm going to make sure you feel the same hopelessness she felt!" Those three days left me with a collection of severe infections. I ended up having to remove my kidney. Even after all that, that man still had the gall to kneel by my bed and beg me to give him another chance.

When I died with a smile on my face, right before my brother's eyes, he looked as if the anguish might tear him apart. Yet, for twenty-one years, he hadn't stopped wishing I would meet this exact end. It all traced back to my fifth birthday—the day I had innocently hoped our parents would come home from their business trip to celebrate with me. They rushed back that night but never made it. A car accident took both their lives. From that moment on, my brother resented me, despised me. He didn't just stand idly by as our cousin snatched up my work as her own; he encouraged it. And when my landlord threw me out, it wasn't a random cruelty—it was my brother pulling the strings. All he had ever wanted, from the very beginning, was to see me die a miserable death. But when he finally got his wish… why did he cry, pleading for me to come back, begging me to call him 'brother' one last time?

In the second year of my marriage to Jeffery Sadler, he brought a young woman home. When his eyes met mine, Jeffery smiled carelessly and said, "Naomi, perhaps you should try it too." He added, "After all, young and energetic people are truly different." I knew he was only testing me; he had always enjoyed tormenting and toying with me. But what he didn't know was that this time, I was genuinely tempted. Later, as he stared at the fresh scratch marks on the "young person's" waist and abdomen, his eyes blazed red with anger. "Naomi Sloan," he growled, “Who gave you the audacity to actually take this seriously?”

Three years into our marriage, Chris Davis doted on me deeply. But I accidentally discovered that he had been cheating on me for two years. In front of that woman, everything he said showed his disdain towards me. "Who would marry a cripple?" "She's like a dead fish in bed." "She's just a deaf person who makes me want to throw up now." Later, I took the initiative to file for divorce. But he went crazy. Kneeling in front of me, every word was filled with regret...

At a dinner party, my genius painter of a husband, Henry Shepherd, used his hands, hands insured for millions, to shell crabs for his young assistant, Tamara Lee. This was all to coax her into eating a few bites when she claimed she had no appetite. Meanwhile, I drank myself into a bloody mess, trying to secure investments for him. When I asked him to hand me some antacids, he refused without even looking up. “These hands are for painting. Use your own.” For ten years, he couldn’t even be bothered to change the way he treated me. That night, as I sobered up in the cold wind, I asked my lawyer to draft a divorce agreement. "Henry, in this vast, chaotic world, our paths end here," I said inwardly

All Victoria ever wanted was to bear a male heir for her heartless husband, Alpha Victor, even if it meant having three children in a space of three years and having an emergency CS section. Her whole world crumbled when she had her third daughter and her husband kicked her out and married her young step mother. Betrayed and kicked in the stomach with her daughters locked in a cage, Victoria almost lost her life after her stitches were torn and was almost dead but luckily, she met a savior, Bill, who takes her in because her daughter, Candy looks exactly like his late daughter. Determined to rebuild her life, Victoria starts her life afresh and builds a powerful modelling agency only for her world to collide with her ex husband. Things get complicated when Alpha Victor’s pack is cursed and he needs the healing of the very daughters he kicked out of his pack. Drama intertwines with faith as a new son resurfaces, putting a question on everyone’s lips but can it be answered? Will Victoria let her life be intertwined with the very pack that hurt her and tore her world apart?