The Mistress Of Auschwitz

The day before our engagement, Stellan Graves came shopping with me, but his mind was clearly elsewhere. I bought a chili dog from a street stall and held it up to his mouth only for him to swat it out of my hand, sending it flying to the ground. Fury flashed across his face as he snapped, "Ivy Stein, the Graves family needs a woman who can actually show her face in public. Stop buying cheap trash like this. You're embarrassing me. How do you expect my parents to accept you like this?" I picked up the food in humiliation, threw it into the trash, and nodded meekly for the sake of our four years together in college. "As you wish." … However, the very next day, he switched his fiancee to Amelia Lane. "Ivy, Amelia tried to kill herself just to marry me. She's in the hospital now. Once she's stable again, I'll come back and marry you." Four years later, he showed up at my tiny apartment with a diamond ring in hand. "Ivy, Amelia has already agreed to divorce me. We can finally be together. I told you before—once Amelia lets go of her obsession with me and stops hurting herself, I'll come and marry you." I frowned at Stellan's so-called heartfelt expression. I must have had terrible luck that day. Who'd have thought I'd run into this wacko when I'd come back to my place on a whim?! "Move," I demanded, shoving him out the door. "You're blocking the way. I need to pick up my kid from school."

Just one week before my marking ceremony with Lucien, I discovered his heart already belonged to someone else. His secretary, Anika, walked out of his office with a smirk that was a little too knowing. Her blouse was askew, her usually neat hair a tangled mess, and only the faintest trace of her crimson lipstick remained. My heart seized in my chest, and my fingers went cold on the doorknob. Two years ago, she had been a timid girl fresh from the countryside. All that pretense of innocence had vanished, replaced by a brazen ambition written across her face. Her relentless eagerness around Lucien had always grated on my nerves, and I had asked him more than once. "Lucien, can't you replace her?" His smile would always fade. "Anika saved my life," he'd say. "I can't be so heartless." Now, that single triumphant smirk was all it took for me to understand. What others once envied in me had already been trampled beneath her heels. My phone vibrated. It was a new proposal from the event planner. [The marking ceremony plan is nearly perfect. Can we finalize it?] I refused to be consumed by sorrow. I wiped a tear from my cheek and made one last adjustment to the document.——Replaced the bride's name withAnika I didn't want a false love, or a fake Alpha Lucien. Let them have the marking ceremony. Let Anika stand at his side as his Luna, his chosen mate. In seven days, I would be gone with my pup.

To save Hugh, I took the hit—literally. The kidnappers beat me so bad I ended up with a brain hemorrhage. My mind? Stuck at thirteen. Hugh, all guilt and promises, said, "Wenna, I'll protect you forever." And he did. He watched over me. When the house caught fire, he threw himself over me, took the burns, didn't flinch. Then came his oh-so-perfect foster sister. "Mia's not into... slow people. Maybe you should live next door," he said. And my son? The one I nearly died bringing into the world? "Stupid woman! You embarrass me and Dad. You're nothing like Aunt Mia—she's smart and pretty. If it weren't for you, she could've been my mom. You should just die!" To play hero for Mia, my son shoved me into the street. A truck did the rest. When I opened my eyes, I was back on the day Hugh proposed. This time? I wasn't here for his pity. And I sure as hell wasn't marrying him.

After I suffer from a miscarriage, Jude Dixon, my psychiatrist husband, hypnotizes me and seals my memories so that he can take his depressed patient, Maddie Pittman, on a vacation. For the next three months, Jude and our son, Oliver Dixon, keep Maddie company as they travel around together. Once they are finally done with the vacation, Jude decides to unseal my memories. Once again, I become a mother and a wife. But now, I no longer deal with the household affairs, nor do I nag their ears off. At first, Jude and Oliver think that I'm just trying to attract their attention out of spite by playing hard to get. They don't really care about my change in behavior at all. That is, until they see my post on a forum. "Help! What should I do when my memories are back, but my feelings aren't? Heck, I can't even relate to the past me! Right now, I feel super nervous and awkward whenever I'm in the same room as my husband and son! What should I do? Please help me!"

For seven years, I've kept my identity hidden while secretly helping my girlfriend, Natasha Doyle, become one of the top designers in the world. A major design awards ceremony is being held tonight. My plan is to reveal my real identity and propose to her after she receives the award. But then, I see her walking up on stage, hand-in-hand with Connor Gibson, her partner in the design studio. "All of Natasha's accomplishments are the result of my hard work and effort," Connor proudly declares. Natasha smiles and nods in agreement. "Without him, I wouldn't be the person I am now." Thunderous applause rings from the crowd. The camera flashes keep going off. I stand in the corner, my heart in despair. As I walk out of the venue, I make a call. "Cut off all the funding and investments into Natasha's studio. Don't help her with the patent infringement lawsuit either. Let her deal with the legal consequences herself."

Everyone in Moonveil Pack knew our Alpha, Eric, worshiped his Mate. When he loved, he went feral. To keep me—an infertile she-wolf—on the Luna throne, he once painted the Elder Council in blood. Stood in front of the whole pack and swore he hated pups. Said he'd end his own bloodline before he let me hurt. Yeah. That was his version of forever. Until my body changed. Then one day he walked into our territory holding a young she-wolf's hand—Velda—and built her a little love nest right next to our home. I asked for an explanation. "My pack needs an heir. You can't give me one." Velda smiled all sweet. The second he looked away, she flipped me off. "Zara, you're fat as a pig. What makes you think you can compete with me?" I looked at her young, perfect face and finally got it. Those vows? Not love. Just lust in a crown. I didn't cry. Didn't cause a scene. I called the witch through mind link. "Do it. Forcefully sever my mate bond with him." If he hated this body so much, then the thousandfold pain I'd held back for five years? Yeah. It was time to give it back.

My best friend and I were in relationships with the brothers from the Wilson Family, and we both got pregnant at the same time. She flaunted her relationship publicly, making everyone in Junopia know that Rick had left the monastery for her. On the other hand, I kept silent about my relationship with the heir of the Wilson Family. Thus, everyone mistakenly thought I was single. That was until my best friend saw my pregnancy report. In a fit of rage, she rallied a group of friends, stormed into my dorm, and vandalized my room with food waste. "I thought you were my best friend, and here you are, trying to steal my man," she accused. Not only did she live-stream this accusation, trying to paint me as the other woman, but she also spiked my chicken soup, hoping to get rid of my unborn child. In defiance, I poured the contaminated soup over her head. "Just so you know, Rick isn't the only Wilson brother," I retorted. Later, Rayden, the man who controlled Junopia, wrapped his arm around me and declared icily, "I've heard troubling rumors about my wife being called a mistress. We need to talk."

I went to visit the set where my chaste fiancee, the award-winning actress Whitney Lockwood, was shooting her new movie. When I heard she was shooting a bed scene, I frowned but still agreed. However, her scene partner, a young actor named Yarden Stein, could not get into character. Whitney grew impatient. She said they should do it for real. I stopped her and said they could use a body double instead. She slapped me across the face and glared at me with teary eyes. “Yale, this movie is very important to me! I have to make sure it’s perfect! Or do you think my first time matters more than the career I love most?” In the next second, she tore off all her garments and climbed onto the young actor without hesitation. She turned to look at me. Her eyes were full of sorrow. “I’ll imagine Yarden is you. Then, it will be no different from being with you.” I watched them slowly prepare for the scene. I heard the clapboard snap as filming began. My face stayed blank as I made a phone call. “Blacklist Whitney and Yarden. Anyone who still hires them will be making an enemy of the Foster family.”

The whole city’s paparazzi knows that Cade Finley would rather sleep with a nightclub escort than with me. The question they ask daily is: When will Mrs. Finley finally give away her precious "first time"? In front of the media cameras, Cade calmly turned towards me. "We can each have our own fun. If you don't like what I'm doing, you can go look for a man too." With that, he casually shoved his hands into his pockets and walked away. That night, he was photographed with his new fling in bed, and it made the trending news once again. While everyone thought I would just sit and wait until dawn, I contacted the paparazzi and bought a trending topic spot. Then, I tore up my lace nightgown, messed up the sheets, and took a bedroom photo from a third-person perspective. I then sent an anonymous message to Cade: "Bro, your wife is amazing. Let me know when you're getting a divorce."

In the seventh year of marrying Don Sebastian Quinn, I finally stopped loving him. After finishing the family business in the afternoon, I found an excuse to go out for coffee; He wanted to take me to attend the family core meeting, but I politely declined by saying I had to fly to Paris to watch a show; When he finally refused his social engagement and tried to get intimate with me, I lied about feeling unwell and slept in a separate room. Even when his lover was wearing my silk nightgown and commanding the housekeepers in the living room, I calmly complimented her good figure. My indifference finally hurt this man. He forcefully grabbed my chin in the middle of the night, his eyes red. "Why aren't you mad seeing another woman sleeping in my bed? Nicola Scott, I'm your husband. Don't you care at all?" I looked at his out-of-control state and only smiled faintly, thinking, 'Sebastian, you've probably forgotten that I loved you the most during the years you punished me by making me kneel and reflect on my actions.'